#coded messages are a good way to fill space

[westaysilly]

nakedmare (again) (i like to draw his weird bones ok)

click for better quality lalala

closeups under the cut

[goldsbitch]

That one night stranded

There is good sex...and then there is good sex. And when you know and love someone, it's very easy to tell when they fall into an anxiety trap and try to fuck it out.

Lando is determined to have good sex only for the rest of his life.

Or - Lando and Y/N get stranded in between flights. accidental 7k epilogue p.2 to That one Christmas flight, but can be read as a stand-alone

warning: angst, shit family, smut, p in v, oral, minors DNI, typos, couple therapists - please leave, i'm not ready for your judgement

//

There were two very different text message chains happening in the hotel lobby, where the young couple stood, waiting for the receptionist who was coding they key card.

Lando's phone was bursting up with family photos, taken the day before. Lots of smiley faces, tables overflowing with food and pictures blurred up, because the person taking the photo was most likely laughing too hard to stay still. And even better - most of the messages were words of praise his family had for his no-so-new girlfriend. He knew well enough his family was proud of him nevertheless. Somehow, bringing home someone who fit in right easily, laughed at the same jokes and earned a sincere approval, filled up a hole he had no idea was present in his heart.

This one night they'd "earned" by the delayed flight felt like a reward. They'd done great together. Alone time was a rare luxury, especially when it was unexpected and not planned out for weeks. He glanced over to her, glued to her phone in a similar way that he was. Only difference being the furrowed brows.

The other text chain was Y/N and her mother. Right when the reality sank in - the fact that no plane would be able to fly to Japan with these weather conditions - her heart did too. She'd somehow hoped it would be different. That her mother would save the snarky comments. Yet she found a way to make this all seem like Y/N's fault.

You should have taken an earlier flight.

She knew it was irrational. But yes, if they had opted for the earlier flight, they'd be in the air by now. Funny, how only parents know the exact formula to make one’s brain switch off the rational part. It was the hidden undertone in the text messages. Her mom would usually save those for phone calls. The last thing Y/N wanted to do at the moment. You're too reckless. Not organized enough. Being late is your fault. Bad planning. Do you even care about seeing me? I took a day off from work to spend time with you. Are you sure about bringing the racer boy over here?

Guilt filled up her stomach and her eyes were glued to the phone, hoping for more letters to appear. Something along the lines like "have a safe flight". Or "I'm looking forward to finally meeting Lando". Words she knew would never appear. She felt her boyfriend's arm embrace her as he exchanged few final words with the receptionist. The specific info got lost on her, but the tone spoke on it's own. Even a stranger could pick up on his unmasked joy and comfort. He didn't mind they were stranded for few hours. She wished for that kind of peace of mind. His family had been incredibly lovely to her. Accepted her the way she was and gave her enough space to express herself. She was ready for "double checking" or some sort of acceptance tests. Expected to have to prove herself to them more. None of that came. Part of her was secretly infuriated by that. There was no way in hell Lando would get the same treatment. Y/N wished she could provide that comfort for him too. It resembled the same feeling she had when he came to her apartment for the first time and she forgot to put away all the mugs overflowing the nightstand. Like something that was her responsibility to fix, clean up before he even knew this was a thing.

"Look at me, honey," he said in the elevator, his finger pulling her chin up. His eyes scanned her with a look she grew to love. Pure, unfiltered adoration. "Feels like we got gifted a night only for ourselves. I can't think of anything better to receive." She smiled as best as she could, trying to get on his level of ease. But one thought sat in her brain, unwilling to make space for anything else. Today's bliss for tomorrow's misery.

"You're right, as always," she replied, trying to convince herself maybe more than him. The kiss she gave him afterwards was to divert his attention from looking at her, because she knew from experience, he'd soon see right through her.

"Have you texted your mom that we'll be late?" he asked, unaware of her bubbling anxiety.

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled, trying to dismiss the situation.

//

Who cares that mom thinks he's just a reckless celebrity. Would an immature asshole who "can't possibly care about me in the longterm" be say things like that? It was pure fire running through her veins. Maybe it really was a gift, these few hours they got extra. The reality was that even if they'd arrived on time, fresh and dressed up as a cookie cutter loved up couple, her mom would still find something wrong to drill about later. Screw that. Last few moments of solitude.

She was standing in a hotel room bathroom, looking into the mirror, trying to calm herself down.

This worked perfectly into Lando's favor, him still being completely high on the good Christmas vibes. The minute she excused herself, he got on the phone with the hotel concierge and offered to throw any amount of money at them if they'd manage to follow up on his impromptu request. By some miracle, the trail with cold champagne, strawberries and few roses arrived before she returned from the bathroom. When his lovely girlfriend entered the room again, he greeted her with a dramatic spin, rose in one, a tall glass in the other hand. His interpretation of an angelic smile plastered on his face. The plan of catching her off guard worked. She stood there for a moment, taking the scenery in.

"Lando..." she said, speechless enough to muster anything more.

He winked at her and stepped closer. "It is technically our anniversary..." he said, like an open invitation.

Y/N stared at the loved up guy standing in front of her. Mother's voice still ringing in her head. All composure she managed to gain by staring at herself in the mirror gone in a second. How can anyone, ever and anywhere think that Lando, her Lando, is anything but a perfect boyfriend. How can her mother feed her with words like reckless, immature, wild and careless...without ever even meeting him in person. Her phone dinged with the sound a text message and she just knew it was her mom again. She didn't even bother looking at the notification.

"You're perfect, you know that?" she blurbed slowly. Once again, as if more to herself than to him.

His smile grew wider. "I try my best," he noted with a tone that could only be described as playful.

"Many people forget anniversaries..."

"To be fair, it is easier if it's pinned to annoyingly recognized holiday..." he joked and handed her the glass. "Do not ask me when we actually got together, because I don't think there is enough champagne around here for me to apologize for not knowing that date."

She smirked and accepted the glass.

"You did kind of just admit that yourself, you know..."

"I know, but, you didn't ask, so it doesn't count."

He knew her well enough to know that she was about to ask exactly that just to tease him, so interrupted her before she had a chance to even breathe in.

"Toast! To us! To the best outcome a desperate secret meeting at Honda could ever have!"

Giving up on teasing him, she clinked her glass with his. "To the Christmas champagne tradition."

He leaned in and kissed her before tasting the champagne. If it weren't for the symbolic gesture, he'd order anything else. Champagne had a weird undertone of podiums and that was something he hated to get reminded of during off season. But that was not something he needed to tell her.

She gulped the whole glass, happy have something to take the edge off.

"How bizarre, we managed to make it here," she remarked, courage building up.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, honey."

That's it. He was being the ultimate boyfriend, while she was there, barely participating. No more of that. She grabbed the glass from his hands and downed the liquid he barely touched anyway. Surprised Lando only raised his eyebrows and watched her put both of their glasses away.

"Bed. Now," she ordered him, changing the tone of the conversation.

Fascination overruled Lando's facial expression and he obeyed, without a single word. Usually, he was the more dominant one in their sex life. He couldn't help himself, forever horny teenager. But, sometimes, out of nowhere, she whipped up her bossy side. He often fantasized about that when he was alone, racing around the world.

She waited for him to absentmindedly kick his shoes to the corner only to sit at the edge of the bed. Shook her head and nodded toward the pillow. He obeyed and pushed himself further to the back. His eyes were literally inviting her, encouraging her to continue.

With full determination, she took her shirt off, following by swiftly removing her bra. Then she climbed over to him, never breaking eye contact.

Lando wanted to say something, anything, but he was worried that would somehow break the spell. He followed her every move, tuning in. They had spent few days in the family circus and they were about to enter another one. It's been the longest they'd gotten without sex while being in the same timezone. Even though he was not demanding or expecting anything, he was craving it like a starved man.

She wanted to feel hot. Determined to prove that she is a good girlfriend. Swung her leg over his, practically sitting on him. Their lips crashed together in a messy kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. Lando sighed when she parted them. But she was on a mission now. Knowing well enough Lando was a boobs man, she pulled his face towards her nipple and he didn't think twice about what to do next. She watched him suck and pure physical relief washed over her. All will be well soon.

She grabbed him over his jeans, pleased to find that he was already getting hard. Abandoning the kiss, she moved over to gain access to his crotch. Locked eyes with him while opening his zipper, almost violently.

"Take this off," she ordered and boy, did he do as he was told.

The air was heavy with anticipation on both parties.

With thick determination, she knelt over and took him into her mouth. He grew in her instantly, reaching full erection almost immediately.

Wasting no time, she started to move, up and down and suck him off. One hand called over to help at the bottom of his shaft, the other used as a support for her to lean on. She quickly got lost in the rhythm and continued, almost like someone dead set on completing a task. She had to prove herself. He was a great boyfriend and she needed to be the best girl he had. Because tomorrow, only ugly judgemental looks from her mother would await. No warm family welcome, this bliss they lived in for the past few days would be long gone. She could almost see it already happening, Lando desperately trying to impress her mother and her just dismissing him, because she had already made up her mind about him.

But he was perfect and Y/N was head-over-heels in love. With her eyes closed, she kept on moving, barely reaching for breath, ignoring the growing pain in her back, because the pit of despair growing in her stomach was louder anyway. It was all worth it for making her lover happy. Because who knows how it will all look tomorrow. If she could back down from the trip, she would. Her mom does not deserve to criticize someone so perfect like Lando.

Out of nowhere, felt his hand reaching over to her shoulder, somewhat bringing her back to Earth.

"Y/N," he moaned, with an unusual undertone. She took it as a sign to speed up her movements.

"Stop," he continued instantly. She froze, not quite sure what had happened.

"Ok, ugh," he pulled away unwillingly. "I can't believe I'm about to interrupt...Whatever amazing thing is happening right now."

She swallowed her own saliva. Got up a bit, slightly mortified. Why did he stop her. What has she done wrong? He never complained before? That's it - this connected with the treatment her mother had prepared instead of Christmas dinner would be the final straw ending their lovey-dovey period. Her thoughts were tripping one over another, making up an incoherent mess.

Once again, he pulled up his finger and arched her chin up.

"Is everything alright?"

Silence followed. He gave her a questioning, puzzled look.

"I thought you liked my blow jobs," she said with a stern look stripped of any emotion.

"Believe me, I do," he said with a heavy sigh. He couldn't believe himself, never expected himself to pause a perfect blow. "But something feels off about you."

She failed. She failed at going with Lando's flow and ruined what was suppose to be a nice romantic holiday evening. Giving up, she threw herself on her back, lying 90 degrees next to him, eyes glued to the ceiling. If they hadn't been so comfortable with each other, she'd feel very small, lying there like that, him with his dick out and her topless.

Lando had hoped his intuition was wrong. But sadly, he recognized the signs correctly. Without knowing this emotion had pained her ever since the plane got delayed, he felt his own anxiety pile up. Only years of mental preparation for his overly demanding job had helped him to avoid jumping into conclusions too quickly. Even though, deep down, he was terrified that her sudden mood change was due to the fact she didn't love him anymore. It was always the first thing he thought about, no matter how much he tried to work on it. But - years of mental training - he was going to cash that in.

He watched her, hoping she'd look back at him. When she didn't, he reached his fingertips towards hers. Her own hand responded instantly and their fingers tangled together.

"What happened...Did I do something wrong?" he opened with, reaching for any clues.

She kept her stare up the ceiling and chuckled. How cute it was, finding him so unaware.

"No. Lando, you're amazing. Annoyingly so, lately."

He took that as an invitation and shifted his body over so that they shared the same angle and joined her at the "staring at the ceiling" activity.

"I hope that is not the problem - I have hard time not being like that," he joked, hoping it would diffuse the tension a bit. The Lando she met a year ago would probably run away in a situation like this. Or maybe even ignored the obvious distress of his sex partner and let he blow him to his release. But not the Lando of today.

Her lips curled into a small smile.

"Oh, if only all of us were like you," she couldn't help but comment sarcastically.

"You know that you're more than perfect to me, right?" There was no lightness to be detected in his tone. She shifted, a wave of uncomfortableness washing her over.

I may be, but not my family.

"Yes, but I need you to know...I need you to understand, that I truly love you and I am totally mesmerized by you. To me, you are perfect. Even when you irritate me to heavens," she admited, making sure to highlight the words of praise. Scared that if she didn't build enough foundation today, there will be nothing to stand on once the challenge comes tomorrow. She'd tried to warm him about the meeting, but it always seemed to go through his ears.

It was like she was speaking in riddles. "Why do you need me to understand that now?" he asked, eyes now fully glued at his girlfriend, searching for some clues.

She felt his eyes on her and out of nowhere felt very naked. "Because...." ...Words were hard.

"Go on, I'm not backing away from this," Lando insisted, trying to get them both on the same page.

A loud sigh. "We had such a great time with your family..."

It was like she was speaking in a language he was not yet fluent in. "Don't divert the conversation," he hissed, eyes on her like she was some sort of target.

"I'm not!" she gasped, almost offended.

Lando was still not following. "My family is basically in love with you, I have messages if you need proof."

"Yeah. And that's the problem," Y/N smirked bitterly.

He leaned closer to her. "I think we should look up a definition of the word problem..." he joked.

She was still burning holes in the ceiling with her look. "We missed the flight. It's another bullet to my mother’s gun." Stupid, stupid mistake.

"Who is she planning on shooting?" Lando asked softly.

"Us, I'm afraid." She finally met his look and the only emotion he was able to read in her eyes was concern.

If this relationship had taught Lando anything, it was that the hard way is sometimes the only way. So, he finally allowed himself to ask the one thing that had been on his mind for a while now. "Does she not like me?"

Deep down he was suspecting this might be one of the reasons why his girlfriend is acting sketchy. He just hoped it was something more trivial. "She's never met you," she whispered, as if she was defending him for something he hadn't yet committed. So far, there had been only one moment when her mom Facetimed her when he was right next to her. One greeting, awkward wave and a smile that was not reciprocated. He made up some excuse to leave them alone promptly after that, feeling like he was intruding on a private conversation.

"I wondered when you were going to tell me that," he remarked, ready to go full on. He was just now allowing the thought that his lover's parent might have been feeding her bitter doubts for some time now enter his brain.

The obvious change of Lando's expression made her stomach turn, kind of like drinking milk that's gone off does. But, they'd vowed to be fully honest with each other after their first big fight. Deep breath. "She um...It's not like you can say she is exactly on board with all of this,“ she gestured between them. 

And there it was. The confirmation he feared. He did his best to remain as calm as possible. "Don't worry, I figured, you sort of hinted at that few times before. And I'm planning on charming the hell out of her. After all, you do share genes. Some of my tricks gotta work on her." It was more of a plea, lacking his general playful confidence. When she studied his look, it reminded her of the times when he was hiding his real emotions in front of hungry reporters.

He told her once he wanted her to be blunt, rather than deceptive in difficult times. The words started to leave her mouth without much of a filter. "But, what if it does not work. She has this habit of making her mind up before I have any chance to affect it."

Somehow, the fact she voiced it, made it easier for him to react. "Honey, don't take this the wrong way. But, I only care about your opinion. It would be great to have your mom on our side...However, I'd like to believe it's not the base of our relationship."

"No, it's not," she said quickly, silently hoping it was going to be enough for them to survive this challenge.

"So, tell me. What does she think about me?" he asked, suddenly craving to know it all.

She bit her lip. "Lando, don't make me say things like that."

Wow. That bad. "I'm used to getting hate from thousands of people who don't know me. I can cope. The more specifics I know, the better I can prepare...Come on, spill it," he countered, trying to convince her that he can handle it. However, it wasn't like he himself was completely sure of that. Her face was expressionless and he nodded to confirm it nonverbally.

"She thinks you're reckless," she spoke slowly, skipping few heartbeats. She was used to being on the other side, praising Lando when he doubted himself. This place, where she found herself at, was not one she liked.

He analysed it for a moment. "Well, I do get into a car every week to purposefully drive it as fast as possible, so I can she from which angle she might be coming from. Nothing new."

"You're a party boy," she shot back faster than she could think.

And he shot right back at her. "You're a party girl, but I assume your mom has no idea, huh."

"No...," she admitted. For some reason, this calmed her down a bit. She finally took another breath.

"What else," Lando's stared at her, following his internal feeling they hadn't arrived to the end yet.

No point in holding back now, she figured. There was a weird ball of tension in her chest, almost asking daring her to push him to the limit. "She googled you. A lot. And she made sure to tell me names of all your model exes. Then proceeded to tell me I look nothing like that," Y/N deadpanned.

Lando knew this was probably the one thing that stung her the most. But, the thought of someone she held so dearly voicing it her was making him extremely angry. "That's just fucked up-"

She continued, before he had any chance to react more.

"And, she thinks you'll affect my school. That the lifestyle around you is shallow and only attracts bonehead people."

Now, this was finally getting to Lando. Of course, he could not let Y/N know that, not in this moment.

"Do you think that too?" he asked, because he craved to know the truth. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when the world around felt silent and his mind had time to roam freely, he found himself thinking about this. He never really studied and was never going to. His life was based on different approach. He loved it. But that didn't stop him from feeling a bit inferior from time to time.

He expected anything, but a laugh. For a moment he figured she was mocking him. Only once she reached to touch his face he realized just how still and stiff he became throuout out their conversation.

"I think it's shallow and bonehead to assume that. I've met some amazing people in your team, smart people who have dedicated their lives into the sport I'd grown to love while watching get so passionate about it."

There was an unspoken question hanging in the air. Lando dared not to say it outloud.

"And, no. I don't think you deserve to be called any of those words. Only when you're looking in the mirror, because that smug face deserves to be punched one day."

He chuckled. It would take him few moment to truly let her words sink in. "You didn't seem to think that one time in Abu Dhabi." That time when he fucked over a bathroom sink and made sure that she watched them the whole time. Lando watched with joy as her face started getting some color again. He couldn't fight his urge to get closer to his partner, break the tension even further. So, he rolled over to bury his nose in her neck. It was almost automatic at this point. None of his previous girlfriends were this understanding of his overly touchy needs. Words were important, but they grew more on meaning when he could feel her skin, explore her light shiver, watch how her body reacted. When he felt her pushing towards his touch, he swung his arm over her, with the notion of providing some heat to her naked chest.

A more comfortable silence fell upon the hotel room. Both of them lost in their own thoughts. Lando was taking in all of the newly found information. It was a heavy burden, not because of the substance, but because it was coming from someone Y/N held dearly. It was hard not to feel a little injustice of it all. But more than that, he was grateful that she was able to avoid internalizing all of that what was fed to her from her mom. He approached all of this as he would any strategy meeting before a difficult race. Find the strengths, capitalize on them and try to minimize the advantage "the opponent" might have. But truth be told, he'd rather not have to have this sort of competition.

"Thank you," he whispered into the crease of her neck. "Thank you for not giving into it all." He hoped, prayed, that was he as saying was true. It was not just about her mom. It was the press, some of the overbearing fans and anyone who dared to challenge them without having any real insight in their relationship. "I know it must be really hard and not exactly what you might have signed up for."

What did I sign up for? 

She reached over to embrace him, mindlessly drawing circles on his back. The pit inside her stomach was growing smaller. Without really intending to, signed up for a partnership, exciting love affair that got out of hand. Anyone who came before him was redundant. He outshined everyone. 

"I’m pretty sure I must have bribed faith in my past life to have you thrown in my life." 

"Aren’t you my little smart poetic girl," he murmured approvingly and started to cover her skin with kisses. Few moments flew by. "We could order some food, put on the show you like and drift away. How does that sound?" 

She understood his intention. It had been a long day and another one was coming. Her emotions were clashing from one end to another and as much as she tried to hide it all, Lando was proving to be hard to fool. And no - she did not want to chill in. Burning all of it out sounded more fun. To be held for a moment, stuck in the timelessness only lightheaded orgasm created. 

He was still trailing her neck with small pecks, arm locking her in. The untamed curls almost tickling like small feathers. Everything was heightened, as if his skin was loudly calling her in. His words of initiating a calm wind down not matching his action. 

"Please, no more of this PG fun. It’s been days."

He stopped all of his movements. "Well then, pray tell, what do you have on mind?"

The next words flew out of her mouth before she could filter them. "Are you in the mood to fuck me?"

"Am I in the mood to fuck you," he repeated, in his signature sarcasm dripping style. He was having trouble processing how his sexual partner could ever arrive to this question. Unsure whether to address her clumsy dirty talk first instead of the absurdity of the question, he arrived at a simple "Charming…".  Of course he was in the mood. Always, anytime and quite literally anywhere.

"Well it's just, it's been quite a tense talk..." she hinted back carefully. To her surprise, his face went into smirk mode. 

"I will ask you the same thing next time you're hyperventilating about school and you come in begging for stress release," he jested, once again making her eyebrows shooting up. 

"I am never begging," she defended, unwilling to give into his narrative. 

And then he shot back, with his signature you-don’t-have-any-chance-to-resist look. "I said what I said."

Blood ran boiling in her veins. If oil had been in such abundance as his audacity, the world would be able to run cars freely for centuries. "Tell me one example of me begging for sex with you."

Lando turned his head slowly. Oh. Oh, it was on.

Very quickly she realized her own mistake. She ran into that one like a fool. "No, Lando, don't-"

"You know, it has been indeed quite a long day, I think I'm gonna hop in the shower and get a healthy dose of beauty sleep," he declared dramatically, sat up and removed his t-shirt. She rolled her eyes as high as humanly possible. No way would follow through with this premise. "Fine, Lando. I’ll be here, munching on strawberries, naked and horny, all by myself," she tried to tease and leaned over to grab one of the bright red fruits from the trail. Eyes locked in with him as she shamelessly sucked on it. There was a glitch and a twinkle in his look. Almost got her thinking she had this one in the bag. He stepped closer, noses almost touching as he whispered: "Have fun, honey," gave her a little peck on the cheeks while having the nerve to grab her exposed breast. His tone was teasing, daring her to dare a little more. It was annoying in a typical Lando fashion.

"Lando, you gotta be kidding me right now," she sighed, impatience getting the better of her. 

"Few magic words and you get exactly what you want from your reckless racer fuck boy,“ he mocked everyone who ever doubted them. "Oh, sorry, forgot to add, very good at taking your edge off. Am I right?"

His presence was more intoxicating than usual. As if he radiated some hormones making her feral. All the complicated emotions leaving the conversation one by one. Nothing but the two of them left in the room. His hot breath on her cheek, fingers circling over her nipple and his body heat reminding her of each time she wrapped her arms around him as he pushed into her. 

"Yes, that you are," she responded mindlessly and searched for his lips with her own. He allowed her a small peck, like a chef would at a tasting menu. Enough to hook, but not enough to fill up. And with that thought in mind he broke their kiss. "Come on, say it. I want to hear it."

Few moments of silence, her breathing heavy and his almost undetectable. Two ego’s fighting a battle so pointless it was almost amusing. She couldn’t just give in like that, no matter how dizzy her head was getting. 

"Fine by me, honey. Your choice," he danced away, letting her hanging. There was something infuriating about how nonchalantly and elegantly he smiled, knowing well enough her was winning this battle. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as to prevent herself from watching his tone back. 

This. This was her Lando. Always pushing her into a direction she had no idea she wanted or needed to go. Never the same thing twice, somehow, he always dug up something new. 

She sat on the bed, dumbfounded, playful anger replacing all the anxiety she had felt just moments ago. Was this his plan all along, or did he just have a natural talent at steering her mood into a place where she’d happily go and give into anything he’d suggest her to do?

He was grinning all the way coming to the shower. It was a statement, a game and something to ease the tension. Once the water started, he’d allowed himself do a light check-in with his own feelings. It wasn’t easy to hear all those things. In fact, some of them hit a little close to home. Lando made sure to separate what he had heard from Y/N as a person. She wasn’t the author of these thoughts. Someone else was. A person who he had not yet even met. There wasn’t a single cell in him that would doubt that everything she stared had been said by her mother at some point. 

He closed his eyes and aimed his face directly under the shower head. Images of him and Y/N all coupled up at his family house started to come in, like a set of developed photos. So natural, calming and most of all - honest. Comfort memories he knew he’d be reaching for once the new season and it’s challenges catch up, when the distance and loneliness hit. But at that moment, there she was, right next door and probably still a bit fired up by his uncharacteristic postponing of sex. His hand slid over to his crotch, squeezing himself casually and switching up the mental images to less family-friendly moments. He was sort of expecting her to come and join him in the shower. But no, of course not. Not when he set her up like that. They were all too similar for their own good.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, towel purposefully hanging dangerously low, he couldn’t stop himself from simpering. Once he got a look at her, sitting under the covers, phone in her hand and too stingy to pass him more than two looks. But, she did come for the second one and that betrayed her, aiming directly to where his tower barely covered his waist. 

To prove his point, he shuffled his wet hair, sudden movement making her glance once again. It felt really addictive to know he was the centre of her attention, despite how much she tried to hide it. 

Smugness and water dripping from him, he landed shamelessly on the bed, towel giving up on trying to participate. Her reaction was to frown, making her pet peeve of people getting into the bed wet known, once again. Something Lando became aware very early on. He used this information only when the situation required it. No words were said, as he leaned over her, making sure to leave some remaining water drops on her, and grabbed a moisturizer. 

Then he proceeded to slowly plump it and rub it on his body. The unreasonably loud sounds of him doing that were cutting the silence of the room like a knife. 

His partner sitting next to him hummed quietly. "Whatever this is, it’s not working."

He replied, elegant as ever. "I don’t know what you’re insinuating." He pretended to be as focused on his activity, the same way as he did when doing PR bullshit. "Ah, honey. Would you be so kind and help me reach to my back?" Lando asked overly nicely. Y/N watched him, almost admiring just how bad his acting skills were and how he proceeded with his act without any remorse. He was reaching over to his back, unable to do so, and making it look like the biggest tragedy human kind has ever experienced. And with puppy eyes, he decided to go for a low blow. 

"Please, baby," he said in a tone so insincere it wouldn’t fool a child. This was yet another provocation. 

"You know it irks me when you’re wet in the bed."

He let out a chuckle. She was so bad at keeping herself in check. It was adorable. She just sat there, pretending to be scrolling Instagram, little lines around her eyes forming from how tense her eyebrows frowned. "I do. And we seriously have to get your accidental innuendos under control. Can’t have you walking in public saying these things." He wiggled the moisturizer in front of her face. 

Finally, she snapped. "You are the most annoying and immature guy I’ve ever met. You’re impossible." Lando looked at her, like one would at an angry puppy that’s trying to jump a little too high. 

"One would almost say a miracle, huh."

Once again, he shook his bottle of moisturizer. Having had enough, she snatched it from his hands and put it back on the nightstand.  "It’s a miracle I haven’t killed you yet."

Without missing a beat, he shot back. "And how will we celebrate?"

She let out a sigh so loud the people in the next room must have heard it. Sitting there, not knowing what do with her hands anymore. He wished they were pulling his hair. 

"Are you seriously gonna make me say it."

He simply nodded, arching himself up. If her mind had been clouded before, it was now full on can't-see-further-than-my-nose type of situation.

He leaned over even closer, getting up all over in her personal space. As if that was even a thing anymore. 

Somehow, for some reason he would have yet unpack, his heart was beating like crazy. Say it. 

Accepting that he won what ever this was, she gulped and finally whispered. "Please."

He gave her a questioning look, as if he didn’t hear her. "Hm? Sorry?"

Still debating whether she should smack him or not, she repeated herself. "Please."

"What, do you want me to put the cream on you too? Hydration is important for the skin,“ he teased, enjoying himself immensely. 

"Lando."

"Y/N."

If he were to be completely honest, he was extremely proud of himself to withholding this long. Also, not sure how longer he could go on, given the fact his erection has entered the chat. 

To make it more complicated, she sat up and put her mouth almost onto his. He could smell her aroused energy. Almost taste her on his mouth. And that as even before she licked his lips lightly with her tongue.

"Say it," he mumbled, unable to make it not sound like a plea. 

It was different than what they’d usually do. Many couples dabbled in talking during sex, they never really did. Then something hit her. Like a secret wavelength he was sending her way. Maybe he needed her to talk today. So, finally, she broke in. 

"Lando, please, fuck me.“ 

All those times, he waited for the five red lights to go out only for him to smash the pedal, paid off. Like opening windows in a stale room, he let the fresh air in. Ripped the duvet covering her off, he grabbed her legs to pull her into a laying down position, not even giving her time to gasp. His moves were quick and oh-so-sure of himself. 

"Tell me what you need, love,“ he ordered, while he traced the line of her neck with his tongue. 

He wasn’t certain if she was finding the idea of talking as hot as he did. But he sure as hell hoped. It wasn’t like he needed any guidance at that point. Had every inch of her body mapped out already. But he longed to hear it from her mouth. Towering over her, he nibbled on her neck, one hand running through her hair and the other squeezing her hips, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. 

He noticed she stopped her breathing and locked him with her arms, holding on for dear life. 

"You, I need you, Lando,“ she let out, suddenly all uncertain and shy. It was the vulnerability in her tone that got him. He moved his lips a little lower, so that he could leave a mark on her collarbone, without fearing she’d regret it tomorrow. 

His body was moving on its own. Brushing on her upper thigh, opening her legs up and positioning himself between her. All the blood left his brain. 

"I want you to touch me. I want to walk with marks made from you in public, a secret only you will know.“ 

He was only now realizing how good of a fuel this was for him. Lightheaded, he folded her legs and pushed them to her stomach, making as small as possible. So that she would be completely in his control. 

To grand her wished, he left one mark just below he collarbone and moved to leave a second one on her breast. She let out a heavy breath. 

"Lando, please. I need you inside.“ 

He was almost getting too dizzy not to comply immediately. His erection throbbing into her leg. 

Then, out of nowhere, he flipped them both. 

"Get over me, baby,“ he hummed and positioned himself on his back. She gave him a questioning look and knelt above his dick. 

But he shook his head and grabbed her hips once again. "Up here.“ 

His hungry look must have encouraged her, so she moved until he stopped her, ending up directly above his mouth. "Sit down.“ 

His statement was followed by his strong hands literally pushing her down on his mouth. 

Eyes finally locked again, he smirked for the last time, before he buried his mouth in her. 

Lando wished he knew what he looked like from her perspective. Squished between her, licking and sucking, letting her move in the exact way how she wished. He felt her legs tense up with each move his tongue made. This all got even more intense when he squeezed her nipple between his fingers. 

He twirled his tongue through her folds, circled around the clit, which had her melt. 

"More,“ she demanded and positioned herself so that he could only access. 

Saliva and her juices were mixing in his mouth, the smell of her arousal hitting his nose and making him high. 

He upped his pace and went for the moves he already knew from the past would work. Watching her crumble, barely being able to keep herself up, to the point where she had to balance herself against the wall, was probably becoming his definition of heaven. His tongue moved in a fixed rhythm, exploring every possible place she had to offer. 

"Lando..." she moaned, completely lost due to the moves his tongue was making. 

He felt the urge to stop and take a breath, because judging by the slight movements of her thighs, she was getting close. 

And only moments later, her first release came. Wetter than ever, she held on dearly and with one high pitched sigh, she collapsed almost completely. He had to stop her from crushing his face. 

"Sorry," she let out mindlessly, unable to give him more reaction. 

Amused, he helped her back down and rolled her over on her back. 

Wasting no time, Lando pushed two fingers in her immediately, not giving her any time to calm down or rest. 

Wondering in which dimension he managed to send her off to, he watched, as she squeezed her eyes shut with every little twist her made. As her moans target to get intense again, he shut her off with a kiss. His tongue matching the movements of his fingers. He waited patiently, before he felt like she was getting lost in the same haze as bare minutes ago, only to remove his fingers and stop kissing her out of a sudden. 

Confusion and mild anger washed over her. 

"What-"

"I can’t hear you, baby," he teased and hovered his wet fingers above her mouth. "What was it that you wanted from me? Must have slipped my mind."

The look of pure desperation she gave him was the hottest shit he’d ever seen. 

"Lando…"

"Let’s made a deal, sunshine," he proclaimed and slowly shoved his wet fingers into her mouth. Like the good girl she was, she sucked on them without hesitation. „I’ll stop anything we’re doing, the moment you shut up. Ok?“

They were so close to each other with every possible body part. But it was not enough. It would never be enough. She nodded and he pulled his fingers out, slowly. 

"Deal, Norris."

A lightning shot through his body and nearly split him in half. She never used his last name before, ever. Why was that, out of all the things, doing it for him. She must have picked up on his momentary relapse and gained more confidence with that. "Stop fucking around, I want you inside. Now.“ 

He was already almost touching her entrance with his dick. Eye locked, he reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. 

"Please,“ she said, loud and proud, making it sound like a demand.

When he finally pushed into her, it was like anything else stopped existing. He belonged there and nothing else mattered. 

"Oh my God, yes,“ she whined, keeping up at her promise. "This is the best shit ever.“ 

Lando’s autopilot kicked in as the last braincell was truly gone. He started to move in a steady beat, finding it incredibly hard to keep himself from literally pounding into her immediately. 

„Faster,“ she encouraged as she held his shoulder with her other hand, to help her find balance. 

Lando was lost, in the best way possible. In her body, in his mind, in the fact that having sex was something completely different when you absolutely adored the person you’d be lying on top of. The built up energy finally finding its release, after days of dancing around. With each thrust, he lost touch with reality more. Only pure pleasure and reminiscence of her voice finding their way in. 

"Oh, God, baby." "Yes." "I need you." "It’s only you." "Shit, you’re so good."

Lando figured a long time ago that, for the lack of better comparison, their bodies must have been made for each other. Different shapes fitting perfectly into each other. They shared their sense of rhythm. It was never too short or too long. She scratched the itch before he got the chance to mention he had one. Lando felt almost sad for anyone who did not get to experience that. 

Somehow, their sex got better every time. 

He missed when she came for the second time, as he was too lost in his own release. His thrusts got more uneven, his body completely arched and then finally - like the slap in the face, pure bliss washed over him. He felt it in what seemed like every muscle, every strain of hair and in every inch of his lower stomach, spreading like nice hot drink in the middle of winter. All was good. There were no problems, only good things. She was perfect. 

He had a hard time recalling what were the exact words they’d share right after he came. The haze started to clear few moments after, when he found himself next to her, puddle of his cum in the middle of her stomach, noses touching each other and light kisses being left like little presents. 

As the heavy breaths grew lighter, he returned back to Earth.

"All good, baby?“ he asked, the sweetness in his tone coming naturally. Searched for any sign of discomfort in her face. He had hoped that she got exactly the kind of release she deserved. 

And many signs pointed towards that. The smile of her disbelief, red flushed face, sensitive skin that reacted to each light touch as if it was a strong grip. 

"I, um. Yes. More than good. Thank you.“ Most people would barely understand with they way she mumbled.

He chuckled. "You don’t have to thank me, ever.“ 

"I was taught that after every please comes a thank you, so pick you battle. All or nothing," she shot back, teasing as ever.

He didn't have to think much before replying. "Well, all of that then.“ 

She nudged him with her nose. "You seemed to enjoy me begging. Though begging might be a strong word. I would never do that." 

Even though she said it in a light tone, he knew it was intended seriously. "Maybe I just really needed to hear it today. That you want me. Need me.“ 

"What I love about this all is that we need each other. Both for different reasons, but that just makes it work even more.“ 

There was comfort in her answer. A realization, an answer to a question they never asked before. 

"I’ll be there for you tomorrow. We’ll crush it, as a team.“

[thehanalia]

The Subtle Art of Becoming "That Girl" in 2024 🌸✨

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Hello beautiful souls! It's me, Hana. If you are new reader then

Hi! I’m Hanalia and I want to empower women to prioritize their well-being while pursuing their dreams🌟

Today, I woke up feeling extra inspired by the #thatgirl aesthetic. You know her – she's the girl who embodies self-love, radiates positivity, and just seems to have her life beautifully organized. Personally, I believe, she's not just a trend; she's a movement towards becoming the best version of ourselves. And guess what? Becoming "that girl" isn't about perfection; it's about progress. It's about embracing the journey of self-improvement, self-care, and love. So, let's dive into a few ways you can bring a little bit of "that girl" magic into your everyday life:

1. Morning Rituals ✨

Start your day with purpose. Whether it's a morning skincare routine, meditation, or writing down your thoughts in a daily planner, find what centers you. If you have been following me for a while then you know how important this is. Remember, it's these small rituals that set the tone for a productive, positive day.

2. Self-Care Sundays 🛁

Dedicate time each week to pamper yourself. This could be a long bath, a skincare routine, or even a cozy evening with a book. It's all about showing yourself some love and appreciation.

I remember back in my childhood my older sister used to always have pamper sundays and I would always try and follow her footsteps however, back then your girl was as lazy as one can be...so zero exceptions. Be better than me girls and make the future you be proud.

3. Clean Girl Aesthetic 🌿

Embrace the clean girl aesthetic with a minimalist wardrobe, clean makeup looks, and a tidy space. A clutter-free environment not only looks good but also brings a sense of calm and order to your mind. Clean home = clean mind + remember clean body

4. Find Your Fitness Love 💕

Whether it's pink pilates, yoga, or a brisk walk in the park, find a physical activity that you love. It's not just about the physical benefits but the mental clarity and energy boost it brings.

5. Nourish to Flourish 🍓

Eating well is a form of self-respect. Fill your plate with colors, textures, and nutrients. It's not just about looking good, but feeling good from the inside out.

6. Learn and Grow 🌱

Embrace new hobbies, read more books, and challenge yourself to learn something new often. Growth is a huge part of becoming "that girl".

7. Stay Organized 📒

Invest in a good daily planner to keep track of your goals, appointments, and to-dos. There's something incredibly satisfying about ticking off tasks and staying on top of your game.

And here's a little secret for you: part of my "that girl" journey includes creating pieces that speak to my soul. I stumbled upon this adorable shop aka my Shop [GlowInGrow] that just screams self-care and love. My THAT GIRL planner is something that I did with love and my own hands. For me, it's not just a planner, it's my way of helping others because that's what being her is. Being her means she shares her secrets to help the rest of the girlies. MESSAGE ME FOR THE PROMO CODE *hint*

Also this planner has got you covered from setting your intentions and tracking your habits to planning your meals and self-care routines perfect for anyone looking to add that extra touch of mindfulness and beauty to their daily routine. It's subtle, but oh, so beautiful. 🌟

AND REMEMBER;

Becoming "that girl" isn't an overnight transformation. It's about making small, meaningful changes that align with who you are and who you aspire to be. Let's embrace this journey together, one step at a time. 💕

Last but not least, at the end of your journey of becoming that girl awaits the future who is The Girl!

Stay safe and stay hot...

With Love, Hanalia

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[nehi-soda]

Bedroom Ceremonials - Joel Miller x Female Reader No Outbreak AU

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

“You walk a fine line between god and animal

You’re just a feral dog I worship in bedroom ceremonials”

- Dog Days, Ethel Cain.

Summary: His warm eyes were now stormy with frustration and concern, raindrops clinging to his dark hair, and his chaahart jacket soaked through from the rain. He doesn't waste a moment before unleashing his pent-up emotions, his breathing ragged as he towers in the doorway.

"Where the hell were you?"

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: P in V sex, ANGST, rough sex, smut, jealous!joel, established relationship, mention of violence (not directed at reader), alcohol, praise kink, dirty talk, size kink, makeup sex, oral sex (female receiving), au!joel, no outbreak!joel. Legal age gap (reader is mid 20's Joel is late 40's). No use of Y/N.

A/N: This is my first time writing any kind of smut or fan fiction. I just had to get some ideas out of my system. Joel is just so Ethel Cain coded.

As you step inside, the weight of the day's stress seems to cling to you like a heavy coat. It's been a rough day, and the unfamiliarity of your new job and home is only adding to your apprehension.

You can't help but feel a pang of longing for your dad's company, and you miss the comfort of having Joel just across the street.

You walk through the door, feeling like a soggy mess after getting caught in the rain on your way home.

Although you've been living there for four weeks now, the space still feels new. You do love it. You enjoy having your own space, being surrounded by your belongings, and having total control over the decor. Joel has personally assembled nearly all the furniture. No longer are you limited to just decorating your childhood bedroom.

However, you're still finding your feet in this new chapter of your life.

After dumping your bag in the hallway, you sigh deeply and release some of the tension that has built up in your neck. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror - your mascara is smudged, and your hair is plastered to your face.

You quickly change out of your wet clothes and head to the bathroom to run the shower. As the steam begins to fill the room, you can feel yourself starting to relax.

You're already wrapped in your towel, pacing around your bedroom, when you grab your phone. It's been a busy day, and you haven't had a chance to check your messages. You see that Joel has sent you a few texts that you haven't had a chance to respond to.

Joel: hey baby, hope you have a good day at work x

Joel: hey, me again. Everything ok?

Joel: I figured you’re probably caught up in work stuff. Call me when you’re home.

As you toss your phone onto the bed, your face pulls into a guilty frown. You make a mental note to call Joel as soon as you're out of the shower, but right now, all you want to do is snuggle up in bed. Even though you crave to hear his southern drawl pour out of your phone's speaker like honey, exhaustion had taken over.

You head into the bathroom and swiftly lock the door behind you. You let out a sigh of relief as the hot water from the shower caresses your neck and chest. As you lather up your hair and body, you feel the day's stress slowly melting away.

Emerging from the shower, your hair still damp and clinging to your back, you tiptoe to your dresser and fish out a pair of checkered sleep shorts and an off-the-shoulder grey sweater, which you've cherished for years, proudly displaying "Texas" in bold across the front. You decide to complete the outfit with a pair of comfy cream knee socks for added warmth. They hug your thighs as you towel off your hair.

As you sink into the plush comfort of your bed and listen to the rain beating down on your windows, your thoughts drift to the soothing sound of Joel's voice.

You imagine the reassuring thump of his heart beneath your ear, the scratch of his unshaven jaw grazing the top of your head, and the comforting sensation of his work-worn fingers tracing hypnotic circles on your shoulders.

You yearn for more time with Joel, but it's hard to make it happen with busy schedules. He's been spoilt having you for nearly the entire summer break after graduating from college and now you both are feeling the strain.

Fortunately, he's devised a thoughtful solution - offering to pick you up after work to drop you home to squeeze in some extra quality time. Only this inevitably ends up with him just taking you to his house so he can tangle his fingers in your hair and fuck you senseless all night. Smart plan.

You wake up in his sheets, smelling like him. You always wake up first. You start to get ready for work, stealing glances at him sleeping in the sheets. Vulnerable and quiet. Such a contrast to his demeanour the night before when he gripped your hips so deliciously hard he left bruises, and pulled the fibres of pink tissue from your lips into shreds with his teeth.

You savour a warm cup of his coffee as marmalade sunlight seeps through the curtains, casting golden rays across his head like a halo. A glint of silver is growing up the side of his hairline. He thinks it makes him look distinguished, and you can’t help but agree. He loves to be so much older than you. He thinks it makes him wise.

You recall your fingers tapping against his bare chest like a spider's legs as you undo his flannel buttons one by one, revealing a glimpse of his toned torso from his physically demanding job. He listens intently as you ramble on about your day, content to let you have the floor. He's not much of a talker, but you don't mind. You love the way he watches you. His eyes glitter like a lake catching the glare of the moonlight, and he smirks when you get flustered. He knows the power he holds over you, and he lets it all go to his head.

He's a man of simple pleasures- clean socks and messy hair. He writes his name in the fog on the mirror from where he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pressed your face against the glass. The memory still makes you feel dizzy.

You believe he walks a fine line between god and animal, like a feral dog you worship in bedroom ceremonials.

Just as your saccharine memories of Joel have lulled you to sleep, you hear a loud hammering at the door. You jolt awake, panicked and disorientated, feeling like you’ve been ripped away from paradise.

Groggily, you fumble around the sheets for your phone, finding it still in the same spot where you tossed it earlier. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep; they peer at the illuminated screen displaying 11:11.

You see a barrage of missed calls from Joel. Your heart races as you wonder what could be so urgent. Then it hits you like a ton of bricks - you’d forgotten to call him….

You take in your surroundings- the deep blue hue of your room and the persistent pounding at your front door. You scramble out of bed and rush through the hallway.

You fumble with the lock and swing the door open to find Joel standing there, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity you've never seen before. His warm eyes were now stormy with frustration and concern, raindrops clinging to his dark hair, and his chaahart jacket soaked through from the rain. He doesn't waste a moment before unleashing his pent-up emotions, his breathing ragged as he towers in the doorway.

"Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice sharp and accusatory with a southern edge. “I've been callin' and textin' all day, and you couldn't even bother to respond?” He barges past you. The sound of heavy footsteps resonates through the living room as Joel paces back and forth. The tension in the air is palpable, hanging thick like the storm clouds outside. You watch him, tugging on your sleeves and shuffling your socks against the wood floor.

“Joel, I'm sorry. It was just a hectic day, and I lost track of time. I didn't mean to ignore you." You answer, still caught off guard by his unexpected visit.

His expression tightens, and he steps closer, invading your personal space. “Lost track of time? Or were you with someone else, huh? Is that what's goin' on?"

Your heart feels heavy with hurt. "Joel, no! I would never—" He cuts you off, his frustration escalating.

"Don't give me that. You've been distant lately, and now this? I'm not stupid. If you're messin’ around, just be honest about it.” The faint scent of alcohol lingers on his breath. Whiskey you guess. Tears well up in your eyes as you try to make him understand.

"Joel, I'm not cheating on you. It's just been a tough transition with the new job and all. I've been overwhelmed." Your heart pounding now.

He carries on prowling around your living room.

“What, you think I’ve been fucking one of my co-workers on the side?” you continue, struggling to focus on his face as your vision blurs from the tears.

His face is shrouded in the darkness of your living room. He casts a long shadow on your walls. “Overwhelmed or not, you should have found a moment to let me know. Ignorin' me ain't fair.” His words come out with a coldness that makes a lump develop in your throat. You nod, a tear escaping and trailing down your cheek. "You're right. I should have communicated better. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He sighs, running a hand through his wet hair. "Damn it, I care about you. I can't stand feelin’ like I don't even know where you are."

"Joel, please," you plead, trying to sound calm, but your voice comes out strained. You can’t help but feel pathetic. "Let's talk about this. I don't want things to be like this."

He halts his pacing, shooting you a glare that cuts through the air like lightning. "Talk? We've been needin' to talk for a while now. You've been avoidin' it”.

You take a deep breath; your lips tremble now. "I know. I've been caught up in everything; I don’t want to think about anything when I'm with you. That’s why I don’t bring it up.”

Joel's gaze narrows, his lips forming a tight line. The room feels charged with his lingering anger. He releases a sigh and his eyes soften slightly.

"I get it. Life can throw a whole mess of things at us; sometimes it feels like we're drownin'. But keepin' things bottled up and shuttin’ me out ain't the answer baby girl," he says, his Southern drawl carrying a touch of sweetness. You nod again the tears are now streaming down your face.

“I just… I don't want to burden you with my problems. I want our time together to be a safe space from all the chaos."

He lets out a heavy sigh. "Look, I ain't sayin' it's gonna be easy, but we can't keep playin' these games. I ain’t one of your lil’ college boyfriends, okay. If you got a problem, we face it together. That's what bein' in a grown-up relationship is about." His tone bites.

You nod again, a heavy weight settling in your chest. "You're right. I messed up. I want to fix it, Joel." The desperation in your voice echoes, and you feel like a rabbit pleading into the blinding headlights of an oncoming car.

He steps closer, his hand warm on your cheek as you lean into his touch. "I appreciate that, darlin', but we're in this together.” His words are unexpectedly soft.

"You're right. I shouldn't have shut you out,” you mumble.

His darkened eyes threaten to swallow you up as they gaze into yours. He makes you feel… nervous. His mere presence has this effect, leaving you feeling exposed as your emotions betray you, slipping from your eyes and staining your cheeks. In this vulnerable moment, you're reminded of how much he loves it when you’re so needy. The contrast between your sleep clothes and his work attire makes you feel small. You wonder why he hadn’t changed out of them before coming over?

Joel had been back from work hours before he arrived at your apartment. He paced anxiously in his living room with a glass of whiskey in his hand, work-worn jeans, and boots still on. He pours himself another whiskey and slams it down on the coffee table as his mind swims with thoughts of you with another man. Joel knew he was jumping to conclusions but how else could he explain your distance lately? He knew you were too good for him. He just knew how everyone turned to look at you when you entered the room. You were too damn pretty for your own good. His jaw clenched at the thought of another man’s hands roaming over your perfect body. His grip tightened on his whiskey glass before smashing it against the wall in frustration.

He storms outside into the rain to his truck.

On his way to your apartment his eyes are wild on the road, knuckles turning white on the wheel.

“God, you drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he hisses between his teeth. Joel's hands, calloused and strong, cradle your face delicately.

“We'll figure it out, darlin'. Together. No more keepin' things from each other. Deal?" His voice warm and husky.

You smile as he buries your face into his still-wet chest. "Deal." You sigh.

He withdraws from you and firmly holds your chin, trailing kisses over your wet cheeks. He finds your lips and presses his mouth against yours. He dips his tongue into your mouth and you let out a soft moan. He tastes like whiskey.

Joel switches his grip from your chin to the back of your thighs as he lifts you in his strong arms. You feel his muscles flexing, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he carries you towards your bedroom. When you’re in his arms you’re convinced that nothing in the world could harm you.

Your heart races against your chest as he navigates the familiar terrain of your room. He places you gently on the bed, and the mattress yields to the shape of your body. Joel hovers above you, his eyes locked onto yours, dancing a shade of midnight. The soft illumination of moonlight casts shadows on his face, emphasizing the strong contours of his nose and face.

You can hear the muted sounds of rain outside, the creaking of the bed beneath you, and the rhythmic cadence of your breathing.

Joel's hands, now free from supporting your weight, shed his soaked jacket. You peer up at him as you work on your own sweater and discard it over your head. Your skin erupts in goosebumps with the exposure of your breasts. Your chest rising and falling steadily, nipples puckered like rosebuds. His eyes skate over your body with glint of hunger. You snake your hands underneath his shirt. He gets the idea and pulls his shirt off too.

You pull him closer into you with your legs as you writhe around underneath him, heels digging into his lower back. He leans over you, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck. Profanities escape his breath as he ruts his hips into yours. The undeniable hardness beneath his jeans becoming more prominent.

His kisses are now nips, blooming blue and violet markings along your throat and collar bone. You grip at the roots of his hair, and extend your neck further to give him some extra room.

“Joel, please,” you wimper as you throw your head back into the bed.

He hums against your throat, and it sends tingles down your body.

“I want you,” you continue to whine.

You feel him grin and pull back. He shuffles himself off the bed and kneels on the floor. You take a hard swallow as he works at the waistband of your shorts and pulls them off along with your panties in one swift motion. He runs his hands along your knee socks playfully.

“These can stay,” he declares with a deep voice that reverberates across the room.

His head is low and in line with your bare throbbing pussy. You chew your lip as he settles down between your thighs.

His hot breath ghosts across your needy clit as he holds your thighs in place.

He starts sucking on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Little breaths escape your mouth.

“Fuck Joel.” You let out, gripping at the bed sheets.

He continues working at your clit. His beard on his chin pressed firmly against your entrance. The scratch is almost sore but mixed with the waves of pleasure emitting from his lips, you don’t care.

“Jo- Joel,…I-,” you can no longer string a sentence together.

“Use your words baby,” he mumbles against you.

"I-I don't even… want you to e-eat my pussy. I just… want your c-cock in my pussy," you whine, eyes pressed shut. Head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Huh? Well, what do we say when we want somethin’?" Joel teases, glancing over you, observing your growing distress.

“P-please,” your lips quiver.

“Good girl.” He coos, shifting to stand over you like a phantom in the dark.

You hear the clink of metal as he undoes his belt and unzips his jeans to step out of them. He returns to the space between your legs reaching into his boxers to free his cock. The head looks angry and is leaking precum. He leans over you, and lines up to your entrance and pauses.

“Are you going to be good and answer your phone when I call?” He spits. A sheen of sweat forms on his skin, making his hair cling to his forehead.

“Huh…yeah…. I’ll be g-good I promise.” You moan, desperate for the stretch of his cock.

He slides into you, and you can't help but gasp. You're always so surprised by his sheer size. You wince as you try to adjust to accommodate him inside you.

“Ah…fuck.” He grunts, slowly building momentum in his thrusts. “Always, so tight for me baby.”

Your mouth falls open as the familiar swirl of your release is already growing in the pit of your stomach. Your nails carve small crescents into his sides as you clutch onto him.

Fuck, you needed this. You needed the stress to be fucked out of you.

More mumbles and moans slip from your mouth as you’re rocked into the bed, becoming more and more cock drunk.

“Such a good girl takin’ all of me.” Joel grits. His southern twang stronger when he's all riled up. His thrusts hit deeper, hitting a spot inside you so delicious it threatens to push you over the edge.

You pull your legs up higher around him, your hands cradle your toes just to give you something to cling onto. He felt like he was splitting you open. Filling you to the hilt.

The filthy sound of the bed creaking and the slapping of skin filled the room.

His hand moves to clasp around your throat, and you blink up at him, pupils blown out wide.

"Tell me you're my lil’ slut.” he spits.

"I-I'm your lil' slu-slut,” you cry out, your words catching in your throat.

“um…yes, you are darlin’, and don’t you forget it,” Joel whispers darkly in your ear.

“Now cum for me.” He grunts.

“Cum-for-me-prin-cess.” Each syllable punctuated with a hard thrust. His hips meeting yours. You were definitely going to feel it in the morning.

You feel your climax edging to the forefront and his words are enough to send you spiralling.

“Joel-fuck!” You pant as your muscles pull taught in your stomach, and your legs shake.

“That’s my baby.” He encourages you past the point of no return and you sink into your orgasm. You grip his cock tight like a vice and it’s too much for him. His orgasm spirts out hot. His cock pulsating inside you as he collapses his head into your neck.

“Oh fuck, baby, so good!” He exclaims- emptying his balls into you. You feel his spent spilling inside.

He peels himself off you and pulls out with a wince. You feel so painfully empty without him buried deep inside you, occupying every one of your senses.

He pulls you into the duvet and holds you close. You feel his warmth seeping into your bones. You both lie there with ragged breaths and oxytocin coursing through your veins. With a gentle touch, he swipes some stray hairs from your face as you nestle into his chest panting.

You lie there for a while watching the raindrops race each other on the windowpane, each tiny droplet leaving a fleeting mark on the glass. You can hear the steady beat of Joel’s heart under you. You were wiped out, eyes beginning to flutter closed.

In the quiet of your little cocoon, the minutes stretch like molasses until Joel breaks the comfortable silence.

With his arms wrapped around you, he whispers, “We'll face whatever comes together, darlin’," and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. You feel his warmth and love, and you know that you're not alone.

divider credit to @saradika

[redwinterroses]

There’s a cherry tree in the middle of the redwood forest.

False isn’t sure what to make of that. She shifts her grip on the staff in her hand, its pale glow reflecting faintly off the fresh snow. She’s come out here for resources—the vault altar is demanding logs, and these giant trees are an easy source—but the incongruous sight of an enormous, blossoming cherry tree sending pink petals wafting on the frozen wind…

She wonders if this is what fish feel like, when they see a lure.

“Hello?” she calls, her voice echoing off the trees. The world stands in permanent semi-twilight here, and the deeper shadows hide the mobs that will venture out come nightfall. A sneak of creepers is bedded down in a sweetberry bramble just on the other side of the clearing, and False tenses when the lead boar lifts his head, but he apparently doesn’t deem her worth stalking so early in the day. 

There is no other reaction to her call.

False is of half a mind just to head back home and farm her own dang trees. It’s not like the vaultar is picky about the kinds of logs—she could just as easily grow up a bunch of birch and throw those in there. But that will take so much longer… not to mention she’s not sure if there are even enough saplings in her storage.

She unhooks her enchantment-glittered axe from her belt and pauses to mentally poke at her mana reserves. Plenty high. Whatever’s lingering near this tree, it can hardly be worse than what she deals with on the daily in the vaults. Overworld dangers are barely a challenge anymore.

The logic of that doesn’t change the uneasy feeling that buzzes over her skin though. 

Venturing further into the clearing. False’s gaze traces up the trunk of the cherry tree, following its branches to where they terminate in lush bursts of pink and white blooms. A sweet smell drifts on the wind. She wrinkles her nose, reminded of compost piles and fermented spiders’ eyes. 

The tree’s branches stretch long and low—a canopy of their own, heavy with flowers and dark, glossy leaves. The space underneath is filled with falling flowers and a fog of pollen, the air moisture-thick like a lush cave.

Lifting one hand, False catches a falling petal on her fingertip.

It sizzles as it touches her skin, stinging and buzzing like live redstone.

She hisses through her teeth, shaking her hand and letting the petal fall to the forest floor. “What the heck?”

Another petal tumbles past her face, and she watches it with narrowed eyes—right until it fizzles out of existence a few pixels above the forest floor.

“Glitch,” she mutters. “That’s… not good.”

It could be a bug from one of the new updates, or it could be something deeper in the code, but either way: this glitched tree is a problem. She’s probably lucky it just stung her.

She reaches for her communicator, raising it to take a pic of the cherry tree.

“Oh, hi there, False!”

False yelps, spinning around with her axe ready to swing.

Gem is standing behind her, a wreath of cherry blossoms tangled in her hair and antlers, leaning casually on a tall staff of blooming cherry wood. Her smile is wide, and sap flows over her fingers, pale golden, dripping down her arms to leave dark spots on the faded denim of her overalls.

“Gem!” False lowers her axe. “Oh my gosh, you scared me. I didn’t know you were doing Vault Hunters.”

“Hm?” Gem raises one eyebrow, and for a moment her eyes flicker to red and then purple before settling back on green. “Oh—I’m not doing Vault Hunters, False.” Her voice is amused, almost chiding.

“Oh.” False feels unexpectedly small—which is impressive, considering she’s nearly half a block taller than Gem. 

More of the glitched petals fall, resting on Gem’s hair and slowly melting into it like snowflakes. The brief moment of relief when False had seen Gem’s familiar grin is fading into something like the sensation of freefall. 

“What’cha up to?” Gem asks, and her face blinks from one expression to the next like a bad video message. Her clothes are blue—no, green—no, bloodstained and grey—no, blue. They’ve always been blue.

False takes a step back.

“Uh, not much…” she glances up at the redwoods. “Just doing some… resource gathering. You know.”

“Cool!” Gem giggles, and stands up straight. False tenses, but Gem only spins around her staff and waves a hand at the glitched tree. “I didn’t realize this was an occupied server—are there many people here?”

There’s a buzzing in False’s skull, and she blinks rapidly. A muscle twitches under her eye. 

“Um…”

“I guess it doesn’t really matter.” Gem lifts one hand and grabs one of the lowest branches of the cherry tree. She really should not have been able to reach that.

Swinging herself up with the lithe, effortless strength of a cat, she perches on the limb and stares down at False. The grin is gone from her face now, and she looks down at False with bright eyes.

“Etho’s not here, is he?”

False opens her mouth to answer, the words yes, of course he is, I can take you to him heavy on her lips… And with effort, she swallows them back. 

They taste of sweet rot.

“Why... why doesn’t what matter?” she asks instead.

Gem stares at her for a long moment, expressionless. The flowers woven through her antlers are growing of their own accord, twining up to caress their brethren in the branches overhead. 

Then she smiles broadly, flashing teeth that nearly glow white in the dappled shadows. “Oh!” she exclaims. “No reason! I’m only passing through, is all.”

“You’re not… you’re not sticking around?” False tries—and mostly fails—to sound disappointed.

“Naaaaah…” Gem stands and walks along the branch, as secure and balanced as if it were a stone floor. The flowers in her hair flow along behind her, sliding from the branches and falling like a cape down her back. “Worldhopping is easy. Staying in one spot is way harder.” 

False watches the flowers move and swirl, their smooth, strange motion ensnaring her attention. The buzzing is back, too. Like bees, drunk on honey and sleepy in their hive.

“World hopping…?” she manages. “With admin commands?”

Gem’s laugh is as brilliant as a knife and as sharp as a spark. “False!” she crows. “You say the funniest things.”

False laughs. It seems appropriate. She isn’t sure why.

“Anyway,” Gem continues, fading into one patch of blossoms and reappearing on the other side of it. Her eyes are sprays of cherry flowers now. Her antlers are branches. “Anyway, cherry trees are all the same. They make it easy to get around.”

“That…” doesn’t make sense, False wants to say. But her lips are heavy, and coated in sticky sap. Maybe it doesn’t really matter.

“Oops! Behind you, False!” 

Gem’s chirped warning is flaked in glee, and False turns around, as slow as if her feet are buried in soul sand.

The creepers she had seen—the entire sneak—are standing behind her, pink flowers blooming from their eyes. 

“Oh no.”

The boar’s blinded head snaps toward her voice, hissing. He starts to aggro, bioluminescent streaks flashing from his snout to flanks in increasingly-swift pulses of light.

“See ya in season ten, False!” Gem cries out cheerfully.

The axe drops from False’s nerveless fingers, trailing strings of sap. She smells the inescapable stench of burning gunpowder, overlaid with rot.

“...Dangit.”

[FalseSymmetry was blown up by a creeper]

~*~

Jerking upright in her own bed, False swipes wildly at her face, trying to smear away tree sap that isn’t there. 

“What the heck, Gem?” she exclaims at her empty base. Her voice falls flat, swallowed up by the sky that surrounds her builds. The clock above her head ticks impatiently, and she huffs in frustration, pushing up out of her bed. All her tools, gone—her levels, gone... and after all that she still needs those logs for the vault. 

Grumbling, she starts pulling backup gear from various chests, trying to cobble together something that can get her back to the redwood grove before her items despawn—assuming they hadn’t all been obliterated by a second or third creeper explosion. She glances at the vaulter, and freezes.

It’s been completed. The crystal floats gently atop the stone pedestal, gleaming with an inner light. 

And, tumbled at the base of the vaulter—abandoned, more than was needed to fill the crystal’s requirements:

Half a stack of cherry logs.

[lime-bloods]

I decided to take the plunge and look for responses to this update on Twitter, and was disappointed to find a lot of people expressing that they thought this episode was pointless trauma for trauma's sake, when I thought it communicated its point very effectively.

One of its main points of course is the truism that "recovery isn't linear". Vriska's echeladder at the end of the chapter symbolises this; not only does it include "regression roast" among its rungs, but it's the first echeladder thus far that Vriska has actually failed to complete by the end of the episode; Scratch expresses this point literally by shrinking Vriska down, reversing the literal growth Vriska has experienced over the course of page 666. Consequentially, the Doc Scratch chapter lacks any kind of catharsis at its conclusion, and as a result it does feel really awful to read, but the deliberate choice behind this is clear to see.

While cliches about the intricacies of recovery from trauma do not, in and of themselves, make for a particularly profound message, this chapter also more importantly gave us a clear vision of what Vriska needs to work on next in order to move on from this obstacle: her compulsion to constantly be acting, always moving forward, is in fact part of what holds her back.

This manifests itself most glaringly in Doc Scratch, who positions himself as an impulse that Vriska cannot ignore - echoing Hussie's commentary that "He's always there at the right moment to nudge people in the direction of doing the nasty thing [...] they already know they want to do." - with English removed from the picture, the threat Scratch poses is now simply the fleas he's left in Vriska's mind. No matter what she tries to "do over" within the Plot Point, the decisions she made in the past are still part of her life, and there's always the possibility that she will make decisions like those again. (there is nothing new in Paradox Space.) But from the beginning, Vriska's brash decisionmaking is also exactly what leads her into Scratch's parlor in the first place: she has an eternity in front of her to just spend time with the friends she's made amends with, if she wants to; but even when the challenge facing her is literally just growing and maturing as a person she tries to blaze ahead and take the quickest path through it. And Aradia foreshadows this in the first chapter when she warns that Vriska's attitude is defined by "direct acti0ns"; so long as she obsesses over cause and effect, the repeating patterns that shape her world and her life will always be in her blind spot. (Perhaps that's why she wears an infinity loop on her missing eye?)

This chapter also shakes things up in an important way by turning our understanding of Vriska's echeladder candle on its head. We've had the vague sense that it's been "burning down" to something since the first chapter, but with Gcatavros advising Vriska this week that she needs to slow down "sO YOU DON'T BURN OUT," it suddenly seems like the candle burning down isn't necessarily all a good thing. Her interaction with Scratch is filled with allusions to this; there's a "convenient timer" keeping track of Vriska's life in the Plot Point that she's not paying attention to because she's too busy looking forward, and he sees her off with a coded warning that her "Light" may soon run out just as it did when she was a child. Ultimately what this latest chapter has brought to the table is stakes; by demonstrating that it's still possible for Vriska to face losses on her journey through the inferno, we can no longer be so confident that the "Hell Tiers" have to be a straightforward "upgrade".

[writeariot]

Babygirl || VanderxSilco NSFW

Words: 2.2k Tags: Forced fem, lingerie, dirty talk, fingering, anal, cream pies, begging, size difference, afab terms for amab anatomy, anal plug, prostate massage, sex and emotions, this got more emotional than I intended.

These rendezvous aren’t uncommon. Though Silco and Vander might be adversaries on the surface, the history between them runs deep, and the need runs deeper. They’ve been playing these games for longer than some have been alive, and they’ll continue playing them until one or both are dead. 

It all starts with a message. Just a simple time and nothing more, but they both know what it means. This time, however, the message came with a gift, a small package left on Silco’s desk and a tag that read “11pm” in Vanders sloppy scrawl. They’d sent each other things this way before, but Silco had never seen anything like the contents of the box outside of the brothels. He’d almost called off their meeting when he saw the pink satin in the box, but its softness on his fingers made his cock twitch, and for a moment he wondered how it would feel against the rest of his body. 

God damn it. 

The day moved at a snail's pace, but it always did when they had plans. The agony of waiting made time seem to slow to a crawl. The Last Drop filled with miners, and emptied again, the world going on as usual. But when the last miner filters out into the dark, Vander isn’t far behind. The night air is brisk on the long walk to the small studio apartment they rent for these little trysts, but the chill helps to keep his mind clear. 

By the time he makes it to the run down building, excitement makes his heart race and his cock twitch. Each step up to the top floor floods his mind with images, but nothing prepares him for what waits on the other side of the door. He knocks twice, pauses, and then knocks twice more, the code they’ve created to identify themselves, and then presses his key into the lock and lets himself in.  

Silco stands in the middle of the room stripped of his dignity, wrapped in lace and frill. His bravado slipping away with every twitch of his cock.

"God damn,” Vander groans as he closes the distance between them,”Look at you…” 

“Fuck you, this is humiliating.” Silco sneers, his nostril’s flaring. He watches as Vander circles him, trying to ignore the way it ignites something new and sharp inside him

“You're so pretty like this," Vander croons, pushing one big hand through Silco's hair, "such a good girl."

The praise makes Silco squirm, a pitiful whine slipping from his lips. His cock throbs, precum staining the pale satin that traps it against his belly. "So needy.. ask nicely princess." Vander hums, the sound radiating from deep in his chest. "You bastard..." Silco groans.

"That's not very nice..." Vander's eyebrow quirks, "try again"

"Fuck— Please.." The words come grit between.

"Please what?" Vander teases, pressing close enough to brush his lips over the shell of Silco's ear. "Please daddy."

A soft laugh slips from Vanders lips, the sound morphing into a gruff moan, "That's my girl… How are we doing?” 

“Green.”

Vander growls at the answer, pulling Silco into a kiss that bites and bruises, and when their lips part there is no more restraint, “On the bed, now.”

Silco doesn’t argue, more than happy to settle across the old bed and the plush bedding they’ve dressed it in. The combination of satin on his cock and the crushed velvet comforter against his back raise goosebumps on his flesh. Vander pushes his legs wide, settling on his knees between them, thick fingers tracing the lace hem of the panties that cling to Silco’s thin hips, over the ridge of his cock, and up his chest to settle at his throat. 

“Such a pretty baby girl,” He croons, delighting in the way Silco’s hips buck, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, open wide.”

Silco makes a soft sound in the back of his throat as his mouth drops open, giving Vander the space to press three fingers against his tongue. His lips close and he sucks them deep, twirling this tongue over each rough digit. That seems to snap the last shadows of control Vander clings to. He flips Silco easily, pushing his face against the bed, to pull his hips high into the air. The satin panties rip with an almost sickening sound under Vanders fingers, the air chilling Silco’s skin in the absence of body warmed fabric. 

Vander curses under his breath at the sight of the plug nestled between Silco’s cheeks, “So god damn needy… Just couldn’t wait for me to fill your pussy hm?” 

“D-don’t call it that…” Silco groans as Vander’s fingers trace the base of the plug, nudging it aside as he wedges his fingers beneath it. “I’ll call it whatever I want,” Vander laughs softly as he tugs the thick metal plug free of Silco’s body, delighting in the way his hole flutters at the loss. 

Silco buries his face in the pillow, muffling the ragged moan that spills from him when two of Vander’s fingers replace the plug, pressing deep. One rough finger brushes against his prostate and pleasure shoots like a rocket up his spine. 

“Is that the spot baby? Is that the spot that makes you cum your fucking brains out?” Vander hums as he presses his fingers more insistently against the smooth little knot. 

Silco answers with a whimper, his hips rocking back into the friction desperately. His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, precum leaking from its tip in a steady stream. A third finger presses in, stretching him wide, filling him up almost as perfectly as Vander’s cock would, and he’s almost desperate enough to beg for it, but the breath is stolen from him by another rough press against his prostate. This time, Vander leaves no room for words or sounds before he presses again. His fingers work hard and fast, wringing pleasure from Silco like water from a sponge. Orgasm builds like fire in Silco’s gut, a small spark spreading rapidly through him, burning in his nerve endings as it rages through him, leaving him shaking and sobbing as he makes a mess of the bed beneath himself. 

“That's my girl,” Vander coos gently as he works Silco through his orgasm, letting him take the pleasure he needs from his fingers, “look at how that pussy takes me.. I know you need more, don’t you sweet girl?” Silco nods, he doesn’t need to say a word, Vander knows his body better than anyone else, he knows just one orgasm is never enough. He makes a soft noise of contentment when Vander’s weight settles over him as he stretches out over him covering Silco’s body with his own. It’s a tender moment, Vander’s lips pressing gentle kisses to the space between his shoulder blades, and up the column of his neck. It’s the perfect reassurance, the praise he desperately needs without the admissions of love or pride that he knows mean nothing.

The sound of Vander’s zipper is loud in the quiet space between their breaths, and the anticipation has Silco pressing back instinctively. 

“Quit fuckin movin,” Vander grips his hip with one hand, keeping him still as he slots his cock into place, before pressing in with one smoothe motion. 

The stretch of Vander’s cock steals Silco’s breath and any sound he hopes to make along with it. His hands claw at the bedding, desperate for something to hold onto as Vander presses deep. Their hips meet and for a moment it is nothing but bliss and matching breaths, both of them taking a moment to acclimate to the pleasure that floods their brains, but it doesn’t last. The moment passes and the bubble bursts into flames. Vander’s hands tighten, one on his hip, the other in his hair, holding him strung between pleasure and pain, before he pulls nearly completely out only to slam home again. The pace that Vander sets is punishing, pulling Silco back into each demanding thrust. The sound of their hips colliding drowns out the sound of their breaths and each helpless whimper that drips from Silco’s lips. 

“Look at you,” Vander grunts through clenched teeth as he watches his cock disappear into Silco again and again, “Such a greedy little cunt. You take me like you were made for my cock.”

Maybe he was, Silco had taken other lovers, but none of them knew his body the way Vander does. He’d tried to find someone, anyone, that could make him feel even a fraction of what Vander does, but all he’d ever felt was alone at the end of it all. Even knowing that when this night is over, and the orgasms have sunk into their bones, they will part their ways, enemies once more, he never feels the same hollow nothing he does with others when he and Vander are through. He’d never really believed in love, after all, no world where Vander existed to oppose him so firmly is a world where love can exist the way it does in stories, but he had to believe that if it could, Vander was it for him, and that what kept him crawling back to this room and this bed time and time again. But those were thoughts for another time, when the pleasure had worn off and the loneliness crept back in, now all he wanted was to feel, and god did Vander make him feel. 

“Y-yours,” he stutters out between thrusts, “All yours V-van..”

“Mine,” Vander groans, heat coiling around his spine. Nothing gets him like those little promises between them, even if they don’t last until morning, “My perfect girl, my perfect pussy.” 

“Give it to me, please Van” Silco begs, the words punched from him with each thrust of Vander’s cock. It fills up all his empty spaces, pressing against his walls, hammering his prostate, replacing all the hate that’s carved him out with pleasure, white hot and all consuming, and he needs more even as the orgasm building inside him threatens to suffocate him. 

“Take it babygirl, it’s all yours.” Vander’s voice breaks on his words, and neither of them can stand to think about what that means. They shove the thoughts away and chase the pleasure, the light at the end of the tunnel just out of reach. 

“I’m- Van-” Silco hiccups. 

“Yeah baby, it’s okay.” Vander soothes, the hand in Silco’s short hair loosening, petting gently down his back. Silco’s orgasm slams through him like a tidal wave, pulling him under, keeping him trapped beneath the surface. He shudders hard, his cock erupting, spilling rope after rope of sticky white onto the sheets. It’s blinding, stealing his senses and his strength, and Vander isn’t far behind. 

An animal sound like a roar reverberates in Vander’s chest, the rhythmic pulse of Silco’s walls pulling him into orgasm. His hips stutter in their rhythm and press deep as he spills into the tight heat of his body. The world blurs and it takes all his strength to keep himself upright instead of collapsing over Silco’s body. He sucks in greedy breaths, holding Silco close as he turns, laying on his side, keeping their bodies connected as the afterglow settles over them. 

For a long moment the only sound beyond the ringing in their ears is their heavy breaths, jagged and synchronized. Vanders hands splay over Silco’s stomach, warm and soothing in the way they hold him close, and it almost makes the moment seem more real than it is, and it makes Silco’s stomach twist beneath the touch. “Vander,” He hums trying to break the moment, to make it go back to the way it was. But something is different, something he can’t name, and for the first time in a long time he can’t help but feel like things won't be okay, “Vander,” He says again, firmer this time. 

“Sorry,” Vander’s voice comes harsh as he eases his grip and pulls away just enough to free his softening cock. 

Silco sits up quickly, his back to Vander. He peels away the scraps of satin that cling to him soaked in sweat and cum. “Ridiculous,” he mutters to himself as he tosses the ruined fabric aside. 

“Silco,” Vander hums, and Silco knows the sound of it, the things hidden beneath the tone. The things that shouldn’t be said, and yet he answers. “What?” He glances over his shoulder, eyes searching Vander’s. 

“I lo-” Vander starts but Silco cuts him off. “Shut up. Go home.” He stands on shaking legs, and steps into the bathroom closing the door behind him. He sits alone, hating himself as he listens through the door as Vander sighs and fixes his clothes, the hesitation in his steps as he makes his way to the door, the creak of the hinges, the uncertainty in Vander’s movements, and the soft click of the door closing. 

He’s alone again, and this time not even the endorphins can’t keep the cold out his bones, but he’ll have the ghosts of Vander’s touch to keep him company until the next time this apartment and their need calls both their names.

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ vii. reader

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⭑๋࣭ summary page

please refresh your memory of the content warnings that's mentioned on the summary page. this chapter will include vi0lence.

 For some reason the takeout I ordered is taking longer than usual, which is strange for a Tuesday night. I was told a forty-five minute delivery time, but they’re fifteen minutes over. 

 Now that I think about it, they did sound pretty busy over the phone, so I guess a couple of minutes won’t be too bad. Hopefully they hurry because I am dozing off a bit, and I’d like to take advantage of my weariness since Toji isn’t here to comfort me before bed. 

 Just being without Toji for three days puts me on edge, however, he reassures me that Naoya is on standby if I need anything or if I feel unsafe. Not like I can while being in our home. Living in a penthouse has its perks. Great security. Code required entry. I think I should be fine. And after the party a few weeks ago, I don’t think I’ll ever see Suguru again. 

 I curse myself everyday for succumbing to the temporary pleasure he provided me those two times we had sex. Honestly, I feel embarrassed. I knew Suguru was a bit clingy but I didn’t think about it at the time because I wanted attention. The desire. The chemistry. The mind blowing sex and how he practically worshiped my body. All of it felt good. Now, I feel disgusted.

 It’s been almost two months since I met Suguru, and a month since I told Toji about my infidelity. He has admitted how much it hurt him that I stepped out on our marriage, but decided to work on forgiving me and move past it. I can’t say our marriage is perfect. We still have our small arguments, especially about me cheating, and I give him the space to express how he feels. I mean, there’s nothing I can say. I cheated. 

 Quite frankly, I’m surprised Toji and I are still together. Maybe something in me thought when I told him I cheated that he was going to use that as a way to finally divorce me. Because again, I thought he didn’t love me anymore. However, Toji made it clear that our love for each other should never be questioned.

 I know that now.

 A yawn escapes my mouth and I begin to wonder where the delivery driver is. I grabbed my phone to call the restaurant but before I was able to, a message from an unknown number came through:

Hi. This is your delivery driver. What is the access code?

  Finally .

Hi, it’s 02315.

I go to the bedroom to grab some cash from our safe and hear the doorbell ring. I just know as soon as I eat a good amount of food, I’m going straight to bed. Tomorrow I have to meet with Teresa to do some nursery shopping (maybe clothes and shoes, too) and I need all the energy for our early morning. 

 Although I know it’s the delivery driver at the door, paranoia causes me to look through the peephole and I see the delivery guy from the restaurant, in uniform, waiting for me. But the moment I open the door, my heart nearly sinks to my stomach seeing the delivery guy coughing up blood and behind him is Suguru, pulling a knife out of his lower back. 

 He falls forward, food spilling everywhere along with broken glass from the pop that I ordered. He’s… he’s dead. 

 Suguru killed him. 

 I gasp, and numbness finds its way to my knees that feels like they’re giving up on me but manages to give me enough strength to put distance between us. How he slowly locks the door behind him while giving me a sardonic smile fills nausea in my stomach. 

 Suguru’s purple irises darken to the color of midnight as he looks over my body. I feel violated. Disgusted. I’m trying to control my mind to prevent me from thinking about throwing up, but the more he ogles me, repulsion flares in my gut. 

 A man, that I had sex with, that doesn’t know what no means, is now standing in the middle of my home with a bloody knife and an intent of I don’t know what. I turn on my heels to run toward my phone, however, he breaks the distance in three long strides to grab me by my coils and pull me to him, causing me to yelp from the sharp pain I felt. 

 My breaths softly burst in and out, and salty tears trickle down my cheeks just thinking about what’s going to happen to me. 

 Will Suguru kidnap me? Kill me? The possibilities are endless as they spiral in my mind, but really all I can think about is Toji. 

 “Shh, don’t cry, sweetheart,” he whispers, kissing the shell of my ear that causes the slightest hint of vomit to rise up my throat. “I won’t hurt you. I would never do that.”

 “You’re hurting me now.”

 Suguru lets out a breathy chuckle, almost as if he’s mocking me. “Funny. I don’t remember you having an issue with me pulling your hair when my cock was inside of you.” 

  What was I thinking? 

 “What do you want?” I ask, trembling. 

 “I just want to talk, baby.”

 There’s one of two things. I can play along and listen to what Suguru has to say to give me time to think of what I could do. Or, find a way to get to my bedroom to get the gun out of the safe. 

 The former is my best bet for now.

 “Okay,” I answered. “We can talk. Just let go of me.”

 “Will you run if I do?” I shook my head, and although Suguru hesitated, he released my hair.  “I miss you, Y/N.”

 “You have a weird way of showing it.” I move to the other end of the couch to create a greater distance than before. Suguru attempts to come closer, but I put my hand up to reassure him. “Give me space.”

 He nods. “Anything for my pretty girl.”

 There was a time when hearing him call me his pretty girl made my stomach flutter.

 I loathe it now. 

 “How the fuck do you know where I live?”

 “Hm, coincidence. But be more careful giving out your code, angel. It’s dangerous.”

 “Are you sick in the head?” The question was rhetorical, but Suguru felt the need to answer. 

 “Love can make you do crazy things, Y/N.”

 I scoff. “ Love? Do you… think that I love you? That you love me?”

 “I do love, angel-”

 “We fucked, Suguru!” I yell at him, anger ripping through my throat and breaking past my tears. “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me.”

 He shakes his head, eyes softening. “That’s where you’re wrong, Y/N. I do know you.” He slowly walked toward me and I began stepping backwards. “I know your favorite bakery. I know that makeup store that you love going to every Saturday. I know how much you love reading. How much you love ordering from this takeout place. Oh, and don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll order you some more.”

 “Why? So you can fucking kill the next delivery driver?” I retorted. 

 “In my defense, he wouldn’t cooperate with giving me your order. I told him I was your boyfriend and the fucker didn’t believe me.” Suguru laughs menacingly while pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the blood off his blade. “Says he knows your husband. Your fucking husband that’s a pain in my ass.” 

 Clingy wasn’t the word to describe Suguru. Crazy. A complete psychopath. He’s fucking delusional. For all this time I’ve known him for, the very little that I know, he’s been building this illusion in his mind that we’re meant to be. That we’re in love. 

 Where did he get this from after sex and a few conversations about sex? 

 On the outside, it seems like I calmed down, but inside? Fear gnaws me. If Suguru claims he’s not going to hurt me, why is still holding the blade in his hand after he wiped it clean? 

 I need to find a way to get past him. Think, Y/N. Think. 

 “There’s other ways to show me that you love me, Suguru.” Reassuring him to make it seem like I’m interested in building a relationship is worth a try. “You don’t have to kill to prove that you love me. I feel it. I know you do. I’m sorry for doubting you before.”

 His brows raise in relief. “You do?”

 “I do, Suguru. I do,” I say softly. “You were there to make me feel special when Toji wasn’t.”

 “Don’t say his name, angel. He doesn’t deserve your breath.” Suguru comes closer to me and reaches for my hand. To keep the act that I’m on his side, I allow him to touch me. If I make it out alive, I remind myself to scrub my body hard next time I shower. 

 A slight shiver races through my spine as he caresses my face and sniffs the scent of my hair. Behind me there’s a bottle of wine I planned on drinking with my meal, and while Suguru takes his time embracing me, I grab the bottle and smash it against his head. 

 I don’t wait to see his reaction. My legs move on their own to where my phone is and I rush upstairs to my bedroom, but before I could make it to the fourth step, Suguru pulls me by my leg. And you would think he would be furious, boiling because of my betrayal, his anger is masked with a sadistic smile. 

 “You lied to me, princess. Why. Did. You. Lie. To. Me?” He asks me through gritted teeth. 

 I kick at him, hitting his chest and face to let me go, but he doesn’t budge. “Let go of me you fucking psycho!” 

 Suguru slices the back of my leg with the knife, deep enough to inflict damage, to which I scream in pain. But I know the pain is temporary. 

 While I continue to kick him, I throw my phone up the stairs and yell out to the digital assistant installed in my phone to call Naoya. I’m not near to know if it worked, but after hearing calling Naoya out loud, it’s dialing. 

 I managed to stand up on one leg despite Suguru still having my other in his grip, kicking him in his eye socket where it’s still bruised from Toji’s beating. Every bit of my power is used to jab my heel into his eye until he winces in pain and eventually releases me. 

 My steps are wide when running up the stairs, two at a time, to reach for my phone and rush into my bedroom. Naoya is still on the phone and I want to let out a breath of relief, but I can’t. Not with this fear rushing through me. 

 “Naoya? Naoya?” I call for him frantically, tears returning to my eyes. 

 “ Y/N, what the hell is going on? ”

 “Please come. He’s here, he’s-” I yelp and my body flinches from the abrupt banging on my door. 

 “Angel, come outside. Don’t make this harder for us. You know I don’t like scaring you.”

 “ I’m on my way now, Y/N. Go get the gun ,” Naoya orders.

  The gun. Right.  

 I ignore the excessive banging on the door and head to the walk-in closet, going deep back to where the safe is. My hands tremble when putting in the code, but I was able to get it open. I hate using the gun, let alone holding it, but it’s the only chance that I have at defense until Naoya comes. 

 “ Y/N, talk to me. What’s going on? ” I almost forgot that he was on the phone. 

 “I have it.”

 “ Okay, I’m fifteen minutes away, I’ll try to get there in five ,” he tells me. “ Just stay in the room. ”

 When I’m back in the middle of my bedroom, it’s quiet. I no longer hear the excessive force on the door nor him yelling. Something doesn’t feel right. Nothing in my mind will lead me to believe that Suguru just gave up, but what is he doing? 

 Is he thinking that the silence will bait me? That he left? He returned downstairs? No. The quietness is making me uneasy.  It’s too loud. Loud enough for me to hear how shallow my breaths are, and the thumping of my heart. 

 “Naoya…” I cautioned. 

 “ What happen- ”

  The balcony.  

 We live on the highest floor alone, so there was never any reason to lock the doors. My head whips to the window to find Suguru with a sinister smile on his face, waving at me with the hand that carries his knife, like everything is peaches and cream between us. 

 I drop my phone and hear Naoya repeatedly calling my name, however, I tune him out. Shooting through the window is useless when they’re bulletproof, so I cock back the gun and wait until Suguru steps inside. 

 “Stay right fucking there,” I demanded. 

 “Don’t you think this is some pretty intense foreplay, angel face?” 

 “What I think is that you’re a disgusting piece of shit that deserves to die.”

 He sighs, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s a nice thing to say. We shouldn’t be hurting each other, princess.”

 “Stop fucking calling me that!” He steps closer but halts his steps from seeing me apply pressure to the trigger. “I swear on my life I will put a bullet through your head if you keep fucking with me.” 

 “You don’t mean that,” he says, solemnly. 

 “Want to try me?”

 He looks up in thought and I feel mocked for him actually considering taking a chance to step toward me. I can no longer be surprised by the extent Suguru will go just to prove he’s worthy to me, even if it potentially costs his life. 

 My reaction wasn’t quick enough to shoot him in the head when he charged at me, but I managed to get a shot in his right shoulder, causing him to drop the blade. It’s like Suguru is a beast and I am his prey, ignoring the pain that I inflicted on him to smack the gun out of my hand and pin me to the ground. 

 I try to fight him off of me, but my strength against him is no use. 

 “You’re being a bad girl, Y/N,” he rasps. “A very fucking bad girl. Why do you have to act this way, huh?”

 “Get off of me, Suguru!”

 “No! Why can’t you understand that I love you? I’m better than he is, sweetheart.” He lowers his face against my neck and breathes my scent in, whispering,  “Ask me. Do you need me to kill him? Is he in the way? Just tell me, angel. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

 At this moment, I fear for my life. I think of all the stupid decisions I’ve made throughout my life and hooking up with Suguru at the bar two months ago is my biggest mistake. As I cry out hysterically, I call for Toji like if I continue to do so, he’ll appear. 

 And for the minute I am hallucinating, thinking it’s Toji that’s calling back to me, it’s Naoya still on the line. I didn’t get a chance to respond to him before Suguru grabbed my phone. 

 “I’m sorry. Y/N isn’t available to speak right now,” he says, throwing my phone against the wall, which breaks. He then returns his attention to me. “Anyway, princess. Where were we?”

 Hell. . . That’s exactly where I’m at. 

previous chapter | next chapter

[s-4pphics]

dial. teaser (e.w)

wc;cw: idk almost 1k not quite doe, fratadjacent!ellie back in this hoe, all ocs r black coded big purr <3, dubcon, parties, ellie being sexy, SMUT MDNI, not really yet but later y’all know the deal🤨, descriptions of sex and brief mentions of psychedelics?, omg am i finally gonna have pwp :3

dash sleep lol 

TWO STORIES @ THA SAME TIME????3!3&3 

im not a texter lol 

You gnawed at your nails as you looked down at the burning screen of your phone, waiting for your friend’s friend’s reply while pacing around you and your roommates’ small room. 

Your heart pounded against your chest with anxiety as you hastily waited for her reply. Please don’t make this awkward! Please!

You nearly jumped from the rugged floor to the ceiling when your device dinged again. And again. And one more time for good measure! 

You sighed with relief, your fingers tapping on your screen with vigor. 

You bit the skin on your lip and decided to test her.

You saw the small bubble pop up on your gray screen before it disappeared. Your nerves almost picked up before you received another message from her. 

Oh, shit. You fucked up. Maybe being an asshole isn't the way—

Your cheeks burned instantly; you should’ve never taken your Hennessy-filled yard cup to a fucking frat house! 

You woke up to a slew of text messages from… everyone? How many people did you approach last night?! You had texts from random contacts that you saved, firl wit fake nut on her face? haha in particular, asking if you made it home safe or could send titty pics🥺, and it made you want to crawl into a dirt hole and die. 

When Dina sent you a bunch of rushed texts asking if you smashed her best friend, you nearly fainted. Not only was your first rule of conduct broken — never fuck your friends or their friends! — but now you had to deal with your friends' side-eyeing you for fucking the one person they told you not to! You almost wanted to say that you didn’t fuck her, and it was all a prank, but by the large, dark spots and bite marks on your neck, nobody would believe you. 

You’ve never met Ellie before last night. Her and Dina are super close, according to your friend, and she apparently sells shrooms to other students after finals week? You saw her in passing on occasion, and she acknowledged you sometimes, but you knew nothing about her, despite Dina telling you to leave her the hell alone, bitch. You don’t need those problems. 

So how the fuck did you end up laid out across her roommate’s bed with her… fat dick in your throat?! And why is fucking her all that you remember from last night! 

You, by the grace of god, recall all the events: her tugging at your waist to pull you closer, the whispers and sucks on your ear, the slaps and scratches on your ass when she dug your guts out! 

You wanted to cry.

You felt tears jerk in your eyes at her aloofness. You were about to FaceTime her before another text appeared and soothed you. 

Before your fingers could type out another sloppy apology, a text from said psycho popped up on your screen. And you tapped it on accident; You need to turn off your read receipts!

… Your tummy swirled. Only a little. You shook your head like she was there with you.

For what, bitch! You didn’t do anything! You could hear your sock-covered feet padding across the floor as you nervously stomped around the small space. 

You typed and sent your reply, your thumbnail in between your teeth and stomach in knots. You hated how your pussy prayed for her to undo them soon. 

You remember her so well, it frightened you.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before another message from her popped up. The knots in your gut tightened against your will. 

You forgot to breathe when you replied to her in approval, anticipation of seeing the red-haired, big-dicked girl beaming through your heart. 

1, 2, 3, four, five

[whisperingthorns]

(Yandere Ticci Toby x Reader)

Charmed by Shadows

Chapter 3: Closer Than You Think

Tags: NSFW (I did mark it so you can skip it)

Find chapter two here:

Toby believed it was punishment. The vision of his love, rotting in his arms. A punishment from you that was letting him know, subconsciously, that he wasn’t doing a good enough job.

‘Oh Angel, I’m so sorry. I’ll be better from now on, promise’

These were his thoughts as he stood just outside her house, cloaked in the shadows of the trees, watching the warm light from her window flicker as she moved about inside. His breath was shallow, his heartbeat erratic, but not from fear—no, it was excitement. The thrill of getting closer to her, to something more personal.

She was so close, yet so far.

Waiting for the perfect moment, he stayed still as the minutes dragged on, hidden in the quiet night. Eventually, the light in her window clicked off, and he heard the unmistakable sound of her balcony door that led to her room closing softly. His pulse quickened. She was asleep. Toby stayed around for another hour.

Quietly, Toby crept towards the house, eyes scanning for any signs of movement. He knew her routine well by now—how long it took for her to fall into that deep sleep, the exact hours when the house was most vulnerable.

He had studied everything.

He carefully went to her front door. He examined the space for a minute, lifting the mat and looking for a key. No dice. At least his darling was a bit smarter than most people he knew. He was picking up rocks and looking in plant pots but no key…that was when he noticed a box attached to the wall by the door. He narrowed his eyes and switched over tiny level. There was a click and the box opened to a safe code. Oh. This must be where her extra key is.

Toby clicked his tongue. What could the code be though? Thankfully it wasn’t electric. Toby hated stuff like that, most of the time he only had so many guesses before it alerted someone. Either sending a message to their phone, an alarm sounding, or something Toby just didn’t wanna deal with. Hmm…

Oh gosh. Toby just couldn’t think of what it could be. He’s already tried her birthday, the year she was born, and anything else he could think of. Alright. Time to do this the old-fashioned way.

Click.  Click. Click. Click.

1111…1112…1113…1114…

⦻

‘You’ve got to be shitting me’ Toby didn’t know whether to be pissed at you, or himself. Pissed because one, the code was too easy to guess and that was dangerous. Two, he’s mad he didn’t think to guess it in the first place. Three he’s wasted all this time on this stupid lock box! The box unlocked and clicked open when he tried the code ‘4444’ Really?! Angel numbers…hm. Either way, the key was his! Yay! He could’ve just picked the lock but his angel would grow scared, and probably be able to tell it was messed with. Plus he wanted the key so he could check on her whenever he felt like it. He’ll make a copy tomorrow and return when she goes to work! Much easier than picking the lock…

Once inside, the faint scent of her perfume filled the air, and it was almost enough to make him stop in his tracks. But not yet. Not until he had a piece of her for himself.

Toby started to take a little look around, going from her entrance and into the living room. It was very sweet and cozy with plush furniture and a big TV. He noticed a game station near the bottom. She did seem to have a love for three things: Video games, Cooking, and music. All of which were Toby’s favorite things too! Ever since he met you it was anyway.

He passed the living room and entered a very large kitchen. It was beautiful and updated lots of times it seems. He opened the fridge and his face lit up at the plate of brownies sitting in the fridge. He took one, stuffing it in his mouth greedily. Almost melting. He’d been watching over her, sure. He knew she loved to cook but god why didn’t anyone tell him it was so damn good! This was the best brownie he’s ever had! He quickly started to look for other dishes in the fridge. He found a leftover container and grabbed it, popping it open to see another homemade dish and a slice of pie. “Shiiit. That’s mine now.” He said grinning. He can’t take the brownies. It looked fresh and she was gonna notice a whole plate of brownies missing. That she just baked. But Toby had watched her make this dish and pie 3 days ago. She won’t notice. Surely. She’ll just gaslight herself into thinking she ate it.

On down the hall, he found a boring guest room and a very clean bathroom. She didn’t use this one. He turned around and went up the stairs, freezing when he heard one creak loudly.

‘Stupid old house’

He continued forward. Finding another hallway, he tried the door closest to the stairs first. He raised his brow when he found what seemed to be her hobby room. A piano and other various things sat in this room, he stepped inside, noting the various sheets of music and artwork on the walls and scattered across things. Her creative space. Toby picked a page off the floor, smiling at the notes written down. Something about the stars and such. He noticed a map of the planets and stars across various papers. He appreciated the peek into her head…

He left that room, closing the door and creeping down the hall. Finally. The door was barely open and soft music was playing from her tablet. He knew she had issues sleeping without music. Though he knew she didn’t like white noise. Only music…and occasionally…theta…is that how you say it? Theta waves? Focus!

He entered the room silently, barely brushing by the door, but his foot tapped it slightly and it creaked. You groaned and rolled over.

Toby’s heart stopped beating.

He let out a small breath when he saw you remain asleep though. He went to your bed and stood over you for a moment, the moonlight from your double doors that led to the balcony shone on your sleeping form. Toby’s breath caught in his throat. You were just so beautiful. He noticed you were half out of the blanket, his gaze shifted to a folded one near the foot of your bed. He unwrapped it and shook it out, draping it over you, he stepped over to a fan you had blowing and turned it up a bit. There we go. Can’t have sweet Angel losing sleep.

He started to take a look around, not too sure what he came for, but when his eyes landed on your vanity next to your dresser, he knew exactly what he wanted. The bottle of perfume sitting there in plain sight. That was it. That’s what he came for. He needed her scent—something he could take with him, something that would keep him close to her even when he wasn’t watching.

Slowly, he picked up the bottle, inhaling deeply as the scent of vanilla and strawberries washed over him. It was intoxicating. She was intoxicating.

He pocketed the perfume, a twisted sense of satisfaction filling him. This was just the beginning. He was no longer content with watching her from afar. Now, he was inside her world. Closer than anyone else. Closer than Kai.

Maybe she would notice, but Toby didn’t care. You were his so he had a sort of…right by extension to your things.

…

Speaking of things. His gaze shifted to her dresser. He carefully opened the top drawer and was delighted to see it as your panty drawer. His face went a bit pink, his eyes widening. He took his time shifting through it when suddenly he noticed his hand was red. What? He lifted it out to see he had somehow sliced it open. Fuck. He covered it with his sleep trying to get it to stop bleeding….it looked kinda bad. He would deal with it when he got home but how did this happen? He looked in the drawer and saw something shiny reflecting in the moonlight.

He reached in and carefully picked it up. A knife with a pretty handle. Awe. How cute! Knife in the pantie drawer. He loves learning new things about his angel. He supposed she kept this for self-defense, but Toby knew from experience that if he wanted to kill her, he could get to her before she got to the knife. I mean, just look at his poor Angel. He was in the room going through her things while she slept on, oblivious. Poor baby. Toby finished his little look but didn’t close the drawer without claiming a second prize. He shoved the white laced panties in his pocket along with the perfume.

He was about to leave, when he spotted her trashcan by the door, taking a glance at her he grabbed it and took it to the hallway where it would be safer to rummage through. He looked through the discarded body sprays, cosmetics, tissue wrappers, and- hey.

A scarf. Torn at the edges, frayed like it had been well-loved, then tossed aside. Toby narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly.

As a proxy, you get what you can get. You didn’t get new clothes or new things. They were allowed to steal from victims' wallets though. They mostly used it for food and necessities. If there was an ATM nearby and you could figure out the pin, you can take what’s in their account too. That was rare. The proxies called those kills ‘Paydays’. Nobody used cash anymore. Masky always seemed to have stacks of it, but Toby didn’t. Which is why he’s still wearing the same gear he wore when he was seventeen. He was done growing then anyway. He learned how to sew just so he could keep patching it up. Held up well. Of course, he had other clothes but he rather not risk the newer stuff.

So running across a perfectly good scarf? What a privilege. That’s when he remembered: This was (Y/n)s scarf. Not just any scarf. Slowly, he knelt, fingers trembling with excitement as they curled around the fabric. The texture was soft under his touch, and he lifted it to his face, inhaling deeply. Faint traces of her scent still clung to it. A smile spread across his lips as he pressed the scarf against his cheek. This was hers. It didn’t matter that she thought it was worthless now—he could still feel her in it.

He dug deeper into the bin, his heart racing with every crumpled receipt and broken hair tie he found. All of it mattered. Even the smallest, most insignificant item held a piece of her.

His fingers brushed against something hard at the bottom—a small, broken bracelet. A delicate charm hung from it, shaped like a star. He picked it up, examining the crack in the chain. She must have worn it often, and when it finally snapped, she tossed it without a second thought. Toby, however, saw this as fate—a sign that he was meant to have it now, to cherish it like she never could.

‘You don’t throw away something like this, Angel…’ he thought, turning the bracelet over in his hands, his mind spinning with the twisted logic that somehow, in collecting her trash, he was becoming closer to her. More intimate.

"S-she doesn't re-realize the value these things still- still have… maybe she nev-never will. But that's oh-okay—I'll take care of them for h-her.” He mumbled to himself.

Looking down at the items he realized he couldn’t take them all, so he opted for the scarf and bracelet, hoping that would be less noticeable. He thought about how sad the objects must feel. They might wanna stay with her a little longer. But it’s okay. He’s just gonna rescue them for a while. After all, he’ll love them dearly knowing who they belong to.

With that he took a last look at her, returned her can, and kissed her forehead, turning up the music on her tablet and heading out, taking care to skip the step that creaked and grabbing the leftovers off the counter before heading out the door, making sure it was locked up tight.

⦻

TW:NSFW (continue after second line)

___________________________________________

Morning light shone through Toby’s boarded window. The old shack, one of the proxy's outposts was pretty worn down. It was a rickety old place, that was pretty much rotting, but it was a place to sleep, the doors locked and there was power, shown from the single hanging light bulb in the tiny kitchen. Toby’s ‘room’ door was off its hinges, but it still closed and he didn’t live with anyone so who cares?

As light flooded onto the bare mattress, a thin blanket was thrown to the side as he arched slightly. The room was filled with your perfume. Toby’s cock was wrapped in your panties, him jacking off furiously…already had come twice he was going again. “Hah! Haaah- (Y/n)!”

He could practically imagine you riding him, fully undressed, tits bouncing, as you took all his cock like a good girl. Having it be such a perfect fit. “T-Toby!” You were so innocent, cheeks dark and flushed, big (e/c) eyes watering as you look at him, before rolling up. “Haaah!”

“Feel good princess?”

“Mhm!” He watched as you lost momentum, trying hard to keep going but no longer having the strength. Whispering to him. Hoping your knight could fix it for you. Which he would. Gripping your hips and helping you ride him with ease. Moaning and gasping his name all the way. “T-TOBY!” You gasp almost ready to finish. “Harder…” Toby was almost there, he heard his phone go off but he ignored it, focusing on his daydream. “AH~” You shuddered against him, releasing juices down his cock. Toby buried his nose in your scarf as he came, imagining it was your neck, inhaling the sweet perfume.

_________________________________________

Gradually post nut clarity came, and he rolled over to answer the phone expecting to see his job for the day, instead received a pleasant surprise. Last night he had finally worked up the courage to text you. Claiming he had been busy and asking what you were up to. You have finally replied.

Nothing much. Making my friends go to a shitty horror movie lol. I am actually around that place we met. I’m going there to read but I wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out for a bit. It’s okay if you’re busy tho, no pressure! :)

I’m not busy. I’ll be right over hold on give me a minute to get there. It’s a bit of a walk.

Yay! 😁 see you there.

Without hesitation Toby was cleaning himself up, discarding your now sticky panties onto the bed, and stumbling to the bathroom to clean himself up.

⦻

You nervously check your phone for any updates. You knew it was a walk but he was taking a bit of time. She finally heard footsteps and she perked up. “Hey! Glad you could make it!”

"Y-yeah, n-no problem," Toby replied, his voice slightly uneven, though he forced a smile. Being this close to her always made him jittery, like he was a bundle of exposed nerves. But in a way, that thrill was what kept him going.

“So what have you been up to lately, neighbor? You haven’t been rescuing other girls from falling trees have you?” She joked.

"Uh... no. Just- just some st-stuff to ta-take care of," Toby mumbled, glancing at her hands, watching how she absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to show her that he was there, but he stopped himself. Instead, he fidgeted with the zipper on his hoodie.

“Ooo Mr. Mysterious. Okay. I see how it is. One day I’ll get it out of you. It’s good you’re not rescuing other girls. That’s our thing, yes?”

Toby smiled sheepishly. When did he get so nervous? For god's sake, he chopped people up for a living! Toby’s heart skipped a beat. He wished he could tell her everything—the watching, the protecting, how he’d gone through her trash last night just to feel closer to her. But she wasn’t ready for that yet. He had to be patient.

"M-maybe," he said with a crooked grin, trying to play it cool. "I guess I'm just... not great at sh-sharing.”

(Y/n) smirked, leaning back against the bench. "I’ll get it out of you.” It seemed more like a statement than a suggestion. Toby liked that.

Toby couldn’t help but stare at her—she was so close, so comfortable around him. It was like she didn’t realize the effect she had on him. Or maybe she didn’t care. The way she laughed, how the wind tousled her hair, how she didn’t shy away from him. She was perfect, and she didn’t even know it.

It was quiet for a minute, (Y/n) seemed content with it though, unlike Toby where every passing second felt like an eternity. Especially with him trying not to think of the way he pictures her this morning. His eyes shifted to her body. Her curves. Her lips. Thankfully her eyes were closed and she was relaxing so she couldn’t tell he was bluntly eye fucking her.

“Hey.” She said suddenly opening an eye. Toby’s eyes looked at a random tree, pretending he hadn’t been staring at her…personality. Yeah.

“Do you ever just sit here and listen? Like…for the life? The wind in the trees and such. I don’t know, I feel like as humans we are always so busy. Nobody wants to stop and smell the roses anymore. I’m sorry I’m being like- so cringe right now I know-“

“No!” Toby said suddenly cutting her off. She blinked in surprise. “S-sorry I meant…no…I do sit and listen sometimes. I agree.”

He was lying. Toby’s head was never quiet, sometimes he hated noise but even when he was alone his mind was too preoccupied to be listening to the forest speak. He didn’t care what it had to say. It had ruined everything for him when he turned 17.

The only thing he wanted to listen to was her—her voice, her breathing, every little sound she made. The woods didn’t matter to him, but if it mattered to her, then he’d pretend it did.

“It’s nice out here. Safe. The joggers stay on the path so nobody comes to sit by the bench. None of my friends know too much about it either. It’s my safe space you know? It’s peaceful. Nobody demands anything from you…I could sit and do nothing, and the trees wouldn’t even mind. They don’t care who I am, what I’ve done, what I’ve accomplished, and what I’ve failed.”

Toby nodded, his eyes glued to her face, the way her eyes shifted, the way her lips pronounced the words. “Y-yeah…it’s quiet. S-safe.”

(Y/n) smiled at that. “Exactly. Safe.”

For a second, Toby’s throat tightened. If only she knew. She was safe because he was always watching, always making sure nothing happened to her. But she didn’t need to know that—yet.

“You seem much more calm than the last time I saw you. I guess since there are no falling trees to save me from huh?”

Toby shifted in his seat, clasping his hands together and squishing them between his knees in hopes of calming his nerves. His leg bounced nervously. "Y-yeah, I guess... it's 'cause you're here. You... make things easier.”

(Y/n)’s eyes softened. “That’s sweet, Toby. I’m glad we can hang out like this.”

His heart raced. Sweet? She thought he was��sweet? He wanted to tell her that she was the reason for everything. That she made his world spin. But instead, he just swallowed it all down and smiled, nodding like it was no big deal.

Why? Why did you have to flash those pretty eyes at him? Why now of all times? After he’s killed and given himself to the slender? Now you show up? He watched you ramble on about whatever you wanted. Where were you his whole life? When his father was beating him and his sister was dying. While he was setting fires and carving into the skin with Masky and Hoodie where were you? Were you having trouble too? Were you struggling? He honestly never thought about your past, or how you came to be the person you are today. What did you do? What did you have to do to become so wonderful that even the gates of heaven were probably put to shame? Maybe she was in heaven. Maybe his angel was just a slice of the pie he would never get.

(Y/n) stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "Well, I should get going. Thanks for meeting up with me."

Toby’s pulse quickened. She was leaving already? But it was okay. They had this moment, and she had chosen him. He stood up too, not wanting the moment to end.

"S-sure. Anytime. Seriously. Just... text me." He hoped he didn’t sound too eager.

She gave him a soft smile, reaching out to lightly pat his arm. "I will, don’t worry. Take care, Toby."

The brief contact sent a jolt through him, and before he could say anything more, she turned and began walking down the trail.

He stood there for a long moment, watching her disappear into the trees. His hands were clenched into fists, trying to hold onto the feeling of her touch, the sound of her voice echoing in his mind.

Just as he was about to leave he noticed something flutter from her bag. A small piece of paper, partially hidden in the grass. Toby went over to grab it.

It was crumpled and worn as if it had been folded and unfolded many times. His pulse quickened when he recognized her handwriting. A list. A simple, mundane list—grocery items, a few reminders, and a note at the bottom that read, *"Don't forget to pick up extra flour for the cookies."*

It was a small piece of her head. Just like those star maps she liked to draw. He pressed the paper to his chest, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. He smiled. She didn’t even realize how close they were together. To her, he was a stranger.

To him, she was everything.

"Th-thank you, Angel," he whispered to the space around him. "F-for trusting me with this. I'll take care of it... just like I take care of you."

He pocketed the paper, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. This wasn’t just some meaningless scrap—it was a symbol. Proof that he was part of her world, even if she didn’t realize it yet. Also, she wasn’t just a hallucination. Toby was terrified that this was a wonderful dream, like the ones he used to have with his princess (well he guessed it was you actually,) or a lovely episode. If it was just all in his head, if he finally lost it (as if he hadn’t so long ago) then he’s okay with that. As long as he gets to keep you.

Toby walked away from the bench, the paper clutched tightly in his hand. He didn’t need her to say anything more. She had already given him everything he needed.

⦻

Toby was watching you from across the table, rambling on and on about work. The cozy cafe was warmer than the outside right now. Autumn was coming. Toby liked Autumn. What he didn’t like was his birthday was coming up. He tried his best to focus on you during this time. That and his work. What wondered what the others back home would be doing? Ben was pretty upset to learn Toby wouldn’t be around for the year. Masky celebrated. At least not in front of him but he was pretty sure he was in a better mood in the the days leading up to Toby’s departure. Hoodie couldn’t seem to care either way.

You had invited him out once again. It seemed you were determined to get closer to him. Toby wasn’t about to complain. He sipped his overly sweet-beverage. It tastes fine to him. He had gotten his coffee the same way you got yours. At least now know you like a bucket full of creamer in yours. Black like my soul? Not you. The beverage was practically milk. Toby sipped it more. Having a sweet tooth himself he didn’t mind.

“Anyway, the guy is over here asking for more frosting and I’m trying to tell his sorry ass that it’s not his cake, and if he could please back away that would be great. So he proceeds to just grab the donut display and toss it to the floor. Ugh. Entitlement. I can’t stand it.”

“Wh-where do you work…again?” Toby questioned. “My parent's bakery. I know. I know. Getting a job from my parents is lame. But I’m gonna inherit it one day and the people of Ravenwood love the place. It’s like…really popular. Tourist location.”

“A-are you e-ever…dissatisfied?” He questioned. She raised a brow. “No…why would I be…dissatisfied?” “Well you mentioned you love music so I assumed that it’s something you wanted to do.”

“Oh! Well yeah, I love music, but let’s be realistic here: I’m being handed a thriving business in my lap. The bakery never goes out of style either. It’s not like frozen yogurt shops or Boba or I dunno. Everyone wants a treat now and then. It’s a guaranteed job. With this economy, I’m just grateful to have a stable job and income.”

“Have you ever wanted…more though?” Toby’s voice for once was steady.

“Oh? I mean…yeah.” She seemed a little embarrassed. “This town…it gets a little boring. I love it! I do! In a small town though, there’s only so much you can do. My friends make it pretty fun though.”

“Your f-friends?” Toby pretended to be clueless.

“Yeah…Brook, Jaga, Moon, Kai, April. I wouldn’t give them up for anything.”

Tobias didn’t like that.

“I see.”

“When you find friends like those you don’t wanna give them up for anything….everyone always seems to…leave though.” She grips her cup and shifts uncomfortably.

“L-leave?”

(Y/n) nodded. “I’m sorry I’m being…sad. Haha!”

Toby shook his head and sipped. “T-tell me more.” As Toby twitched he noticed the stares. This is why he hated being out in public.

“I dunno. I just. Whenever I make friends they tend to leave. It’s just life you know, but I just hold on. I hold on so tight and I know it’s over but I’ll still hold on to them as tight as I can. As if that would solve the rift between our growing personalities. It’s natural you know? But I can’t stand it. I know it’s over and I still cling to them like a lifeline…Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to make human connection at all. If they’re just gonna leave me in the dust. It’s not their fault though. They just… outgrow my love you know?”

Oh, Angel…

She lets out a breath. “Sorry for making it sad. What have you been up to since you moved here? Settling in okay?” (Y/n) takes a final sip of her coffee and pats her lips with a napkin, leaving faint traces of lipstick on it. She doesn’t notice the way Toby’s eyes zero in on the napkin, his breath catching slightly.

“Uh- just…unpacking.” ‘And jacking off relentlessly into your panties while I think of the wildest fantasies of what I could do to you.’

Her phone went off and she took a look, her face falling. “Shit.”

“What is it?”

“Brooks's boyfriend just broke up with her. I never really liked the guy so I might have to go beat his ass I dunno.” She laughed making it clear it was a joke. “I’m gonna get her a coffee and head out. It’s nice to just talk, you know? Maybe next time you could come over to my place instead?" She looks up at him, smiling hopefully.

His heart races. Her place. She was inviting him into her space, into her world. "S-sure. I’d like th-that." Was it a date? Was she asking him on a date? No…surely he had not progressed that quickly with her. Maybe….

As (Y/n) stands, she casually leaves the napkin on the table, not thinking twice about it."Text me when you’re free, and we’ll plan something! Maybe we can do a movie night at my place." She throws her bag over her shoulder, still smiling. "Thanks for hanging out, Toby. I’m really glad we’re becoming friends.”

"F-friends. Yeah... me too." His words barely make it past his lips, but she hears him. She waves as she heads out the door, leaving Toby alone with the napkin. As soon as she’s out of sight, Toby’s hand darts toward the napkin, his fingers trembling as they brush against the soft fabric. He lifts it slowly, staring at the faint smudge of lipstick.

Her lips were here. She left this…for me. She had to right? She was flirting right??? Leaving her lipstick stains for me, inviting me to her place.

A movie….maybe Toby could…catch her off guard. Unveil her feelings for him? Perhaps if he played his cards right he could even get her upstairs…in the bedroom. Toby was practically drooling.

⦻

Later, back in his room, Toby lies on his bed, clutching the napkin. He presses it against his lips again and again, as though each touch connects him to her in ways she could never understand.

"You don’t even know, do you, Angel? How much do I need you? How much I want you..." His voice is barely audible, swallowed by the darkness of his room.

One day Angel, it won’t be just the things I’ll take. It’ll be you.

All of you.

[sundasystems]

5. Saying Yes

I don't really know why I said yes to Glen when he'd asked me on a date. I don't really know why he asked. I was obviously a tourist and not a particularly striking one. Maybe he liked the transience; knowing that I'd be leaving with no attachments. Maybe I was just feeling good after a couple leads in the investigation.

On the way home, I'd tried to use the code I'd found in the car's radio and I'd gotten a surprising message.

I tried twice and got the same error each time, so I switched to normal radio for the drive back into town. I checked into my motel room and opened my laptop for the first time since falling asleep on the plane.

I had a new email.

Thank you for your recent visit to Sunda Systems Eden Springs Campus! Please consider filling out our visitor satisfaction survey!

I hadn't remembered giving them my email address. But the more I thought about it, my memory was a bit muddy. I had filled out a sign-up sheet for the tour. Had email been on there?

I clicked the link underneath and was taken to a short form.

1. How was your visit to SSESC? 🟢 Excellent 🔘 Good 🔘 Fair 🔘 Disappointing

2. Did you see everything you wanted to see? 🟢 Yes 🔘 No

3. Was your tour guide friendly and welcoming? 🟢 Yes 🔘 No

I laughed a bit at that one.

4. What demonstration will you remember most? 🔘 Laser Show 🟢 Sapphire 🔘 Audio Bath 🔘 Sound & Screen

I didn't recognize that last one. It must have been what the group did while I was sneaking around.

5. How long did the sapphire hold your attention? 🔘 It didn't 🔘 A moment 🔘 A while 🟢 Unsure

6. Can you picture it now? 🟢 Yes 🔘 No

7. Do you want to see it again? 🟢 Yes 🔘 No

I must have spaced out around here. When I came to, there was just a screen thanking me for my "Submission". Something about that word tickled something in the back of my mind, and I smiled. I took a little time off of research to... relax myself.

But when I dove back in, I knew what my first step would be. I opened up Re:Mx's library of codes and searched Error Code 174G-00F2.

This station is not available in vehicles without self-driving capabilities.

What?

That made absolutely no sense. Determined to get to the bottom of this, I opened up Re:Mx on my laptop and entered the code. Immediately, my headphones began to play music. It didn't seem overly distracting. I didn't see any reason why a car wouldn't be allowed to play it. In fact it was nice.

Relaxing, almost.

I decided to leave it one while I did some other research.

I searched "Sunda Systems Mirrorball" and got no results. However, the company directory listed Office LOR 4-19 as belonging to a Christian Powell. A search for him revealed a journal article from nearly 15 years ago titled "The Effects of Diffracted Light on Neural Pathways". Sunda appears to have hired him barely a week after that publication. Since then, he's published nothing.

I groaned. I could feel myself getting sleepy just thinking about reading a scholarly article. I'd done it many times before for my work but I never enjoyed it. They were all dull and boring. I was yawning already.

Still. On the third page there was some text I found interesting, highlighted here:

Something sinister was going on here. I was surer of it with each uncovered piece of information. I yawned again and closed my document. I needed a nap before my hot date tonight. I'd make sure I squeezed him for all he could give me. Emily was counting on me.

I unplugged my headphones and let the relaxing music play over the speaker as I drifted off.

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here~

Tales the Songs Weave

Ch.5<< >>Ch.7

Notes: Miguel is enjoying your presence with each passing day. Realizations is slowly creeping through.

Chapter 6: Tell Me that You Love Me...

Word count: 2.1K

Three weeks passed when you first officially hung out.

Six weeks when Miguel's “tabs” turned into genuine daily conversations ranging from text messages to phone calls that he never imposed on missing.

Nine weeks when things began to take a turn.

Over the course, you two have gotten closer. Miguel would sneak from his workstation over to your humble abode at any chance that was available. 

It eventually became a routine, a regime. Wednesday nights were the ceremonial ‘hangout days,’ as you had every Thursday off.

And every Wednesday, Miguel had justifications on precisely why he should not be troubled on that particular day.

“I need to double check if the code for stabilizing dimensions is up to date.” Liar.

“I'm performing augmented machinery work for the portal watches. They've been malfunctioning for me.” Bullshit.

“I'm tired.” That was sort of true, but it never slowed him down before.

Whenever someone even attempts to debate or raise any doubts, he flares, defensively striking more so than usual. It became a phrase around the coven of Spider-people.

“Be careful; it's ‘Snappy Wednesdays’ for Miguel.” Would be telephoned throughout.

It vexed him to no end. If he wanted to remain unbothered, he should just be permitted to do so with no hassle. But no, it's never that easy for him. It was never easy until he crossed that threshold. 

When he steps through your door, the stress and the unease lingers yet vanish. A strange balance.

“Are they still giving you hell about leaving?”

You poured the boiled noodles into a cauldron as Miguel was sprawled out on your couch, his sheathed claws harshly massaging his temples.

“Yes, and today was no better. I swear if I hear one more, ‘but are you sure you want to leave? It's a scary world out there,’ I'm going to lose it ¿Por qué tengo que ser uno para ponerlos todos? ¿Por qué me estoy plagando de estos idiotas?”

You peer up at the grouchy man and smile. 

“I just don't understand why they're not used to it by now. I mean, maybe the first or second time it'll be weird, but the fifth or sixth? It's just a routine at that point. Or maybe that's just me. I can't speak for everyone.” You giggle, dumping the spaghetti in the meat sauce, and begin to stir.

“No, you're right. I just wish they would get used to it. Having to endure this shit is mind-numbing.”

You hobbled over to him with a giant bowl of pasta for him and a decent portion for you.

“Well, I hope there's some solace here. Even if it's just a smidgen.” You wormed your way right next to him before handing him his portion, crossing your legs on the sofa.

“Trust me when I say there's peace within these walls.” Miguel twirled the fork around.

“As peaceful as an apartment building can get, so a good forty-five percent.”

“Why so low?”

“Have you ever heard neighbors going at it in the middle of the night? I mean, they're certainly finding solace in each other! There's other factors, of course, but that's the biggest.”

A shared laugh broke out as you sighed in unison.

A comforting quietude rested; the only sounds being made were the clanking and clattering of the forks against the bowls.

“I've been meaning to ask, what's the name of the store you work for?” He filled in a little bit of space between you two.

“Huh, I never told you? I swore I did.”

Miguel shook his head.

“Guess I've gotten so comfortable around you, my brain assumes I did tell you.”

That rocked Miguel. You felt comfort in his presence? Was it an obligation or authentic? He disrupted that train of thought and briskly attuned his focus back to you.

“Alright, are you ready for the name?” You perched your dish on the table, relaxing your palms on your full belly.

“Sí, tan listo como siempre lo estaré. Go for it.”

“Adequate Antique Antics.”

Miguel's eyes flickered as his brain made an effort to process what you said.

“Adequate anti- what now?”

“Adequate Antique Antics. Bit of a tongue twisting mouthful, isn't it?”

He nodded in agreement, setting his bowl next to yours.

“Eso estuvo delicioso. So why did she name the store that?”

Your face heated at the compliment he gave you. He was just expressing that he enjoyed the spaghetti. Yet it made you giddier than how you normally would react.

“I'm glad you enjoyed it. And she didn't pick it–a family-owned business. You know how that goes.” Settling more onto the couch, minding the glass bowls, you prop your feet and free a displeasing sigh.

“She's been in a fight with her parents to change the name ever since I can remember. And oh my gosh, I'm still hearing about it until this day!”

Miguel blinked as he waited for you to continue. A week or so ago, he picked up on your facial expressions when you were done speaking. 

And you clearly weren't.

“For nearly three and a half years I've been working there, she somehow manages to bring up the argument for the name every day without fail. And here I'm thinking I'm persistent, but my goodness.”

Miguel snickered at your heated explanation. “Ronnie sounds very vehement.”

“I prefer hard-headed. But that works too.”

You grin at each other as you pretend to readjust yourself, scooting closer to him.

“I'm weirdly tempted to meet this Ronnie and see what she's like in person.”

You blew a raspberry before flinging a hand over your mouth. You possibly got too comfortable around him. 

Miguel lifted a brow at that reaction from you. He's never seen you do that before.

“Ah! I'm sorry. An atypical response I get sometimes. Just a slip of the tongue.” You cringed at the unintentional pun.

“I think it's adorable.” Now it was Miguel's turn to wince. The difference was that he hid it well.

You squirmed in your seat before mentally scolding yourself.

“Oh, thank you. That's very sweet of…”

You trailed off, gazing into his hypnotizing, vermillion eyes. Miguel returned the stare, taking in every part of your face. 

Every inch, from your eyes, your nose, your lips, and more. How your skin gleamed–even if the lights were dimmed in your apartment, it still managed to make you shine ever so brightly.

Dazing back simultaneously, you both spun your heads towards the front. Your heart pounded so hard that even your stomach felt it. Miguel controlled his breathing, his cheeks heating up. 

He couldn't. He shouldn't.

“Um, but yes, if you want to. Ronnie can be a bit of an intense menace, but she means well. Well, as well as one can mean.”

“That's how I feel about Peter.” Miguel grumbled. Even speaking his name causes him to instinctively grouch about it.

“From the stories you told about him, putting those two together under one roof?” You shuddered just at the thought of it.

“She can't be as bad as Peter.”

You gave Miguel a tentative look.

“It's that bad?”

You heavily nodded your head. “Minus the baby.”

“Funny how we both have someone who causes some sense of hassle.”

You gave a crooked smile. “It's a curse but also a blessing. Because at the end of the day, we know they just want the best.”

“For themselves?”

“Yes, but also in general. Though I don't fully agree with the methods she uses, Ronnie will always have my back. For example, if ever I need a day off for an emergency, I know I will receive it. Or when she told me I get every Thursday off. I was skeptical at first, but no, she kept her word. I only had to come in one Thursday because it was so heavily swamped, but I did not mind whatsoever. She goes out of her way to help me, and if she ever needs something, I'm willing to sacrifice to help her out. And I'm sure if you ever required anything, Peter would be there for you, and in return, you would do the same for him.”

Miguel could only gape.

“Heck, that even goes for us. Remember the first time you slept over? I told you I wouldn't let you suffer because you also helped me.” You laid your head back and stared at the ceiling.

“I personally like to think it's a give and give, with an occasional receive. Self-sacrifice? Maybe that's what I'm thinking of. I don't mind giving, but I'm also human, so if one is glad to lend more, then I'm going to return that favor, if not extra.”

“Some may see it as a beneficiary sort of deal. I helped this person out, so I should get something in return. Even though we humans are very reliant on one another in certain ways, some can use it for selfish needs.” You began to leisurely drum on your stomach.

Jutting up from your laid-back posture, you rotated your body toward him.

“I'm so sorry for the rambling. I hope anything I said made even a lick of sense.”

Your voice was slightly panicked before Miguel placed his hand on your arm, making sure to retract his claws.

“No, you're fine. I understood what you were alluding to.”

Your eyes landed on his fingers. They were calloused against your skin. He was always gentle around you.

“You aren't necessarily afraid to give and get nothing in return. But you're willing to go beyond and above for those who also have your best interests in mind.”

“Yeah! Wow, you summed up my spiel so easily. It might be that super duper smart spider brain.”

You giggled as his shoulders shook with a breathless laugh.

“Si. My spider brain is too highly advanced for many common people.”

You stared at him. He meant for it to come off as a joke. The problem was that his delivery was stern and dry. It almost sounded as if he suggested it as more of a statement.

He began to tighten until your face creased buoyantly. “It undoubtedly is for me. I'm going to assume jokes don't come easy for you?”

He slumped, and his jaw slackened. “I've been told I'm not funny.”

“You give me more sarcasm vibes than jokey ones. And I do enjoy a good sarcastic reply.”

You nudge him mischievously, garnering a joking eye roll. 

You two carried on your conversation until, at one point, Miguel self-reflected while you went to the shower.

Miguel bit his bottom lip as his mind raced to the earlier conversation. He sacrifices, but does he self-sacrifice? He gives up so much for the others, but do they even acknowledge his efforts? He’s aware they won't do the same, but would it be different if it were someone closer? 

It never crossed his mind how much he exactly does. The trillions that he's keeping safe. He's willing to let a few things go for them.

The one he truly wanted to keep safe is gone. He would be ready to give up everything just for her.

Miguel got startled as your voice sprang from the corner.

“You know what I was thinking–you should visit the antique shop! It would be fun to show you all the vintage items scattered!”

Sensing that there was something off, you sped over to him.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

Miguel bowed his head. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just lost in thought.”

“Well, if you ever wanna talk about it, just let me know, okay?” You rubbed his shoulder, kneading it some to relieve a bit of pressure. “Know I'm here for you.”

That smile. That tranquil, patient smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat. Those considerate sparkling eyes that have him believe things are okay, even if it's just for a split second.

Would he give everything up for you as well?

A string breaks loose.

He decided to not dwell on it anymore.

“What were you saying before you came in?” He smoothly switched the conversation.

“Oh! You should visit the shop. If you want to or have time, of course. We're open from nine until seven.”

“I'll try, but I don't know if I really can during the day.”

You swallowed your disappointment and waved your hand. “Remember, just an offer! I'll probably still be working there for the next few years anyway, so I'm sure we'll still get time in the future.”

He was shocked. You would still want to be around him? He doesn't believe he's particularly special.

And there are just too many wrongs within him that would turn anyone away.

“Yeah, I will see.”

You flopped yourself on the sofa as you proceeded to converse until Miguel had to leave.

“We will see.” He murmured, staring up at your apartment complex, and trudged away.

[xiii-e]

...<ENCRYPTING MESSAGE>

...

...<ENCRYPTION COMPLETE>

...

Hello? Um... Wow. Verily, this is strange. Um... I am Lord Raymond Hurst VI of the House of Remembrance. That is... probably quite strange for thee as well... Rest assured, this is not a matter of animosity between Karrakins and those of the Armory, and I mean thee no harm, I- well I suppose I should simply explain.

I do contact thee on behalf of mine dearest sister in inquiry of this "echo.exe" thou doth use. We know not its exact nature, but it seems to be a powerful method of encryption. We... would do well to invest in an upgrade to what we do use at present.

I assure thee, I assure thee! This is not a Karrakin plot of any nature that might bring the ire of the Armory. This is a... well I do suppose it is a humanitarian crisis of sorts. Mine sister doth believe that the both of the clones which do run this account would be... sympathetic.

So I pray thee will explain more of this "echo.exe" and whether thou believest it may help us as it doth help thee.

Mine deepest thanks!

Sincerely,

Raymond

[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

◂▸ T-E passed me back the datapad for this one, said it was some of that "coding witchcraft" that's more my speed. They can be so dramatic sometimes :P

◂▸ Please don't stress yourself too much about our respective allegiances your Lordship; it's a bit strange aye, I won't deny you that but I understand completely. The reason I cobbled ECHO together in the first place was... well, not dissimilar to the reason I think you're asking about it.

◂▸ First off- I know it's probably not my place to say this, but I'm proud you're reaching out despite the fear. Trust me when I say I know how difficult that is. I promise you, if anyone you don't want hearing about this asks me? I've never heard of you o7 I've seen some of what's been happening, from a distance. It's not fair what's happening to your sister, and it's not fair how much weight's been put on her shoulders. Hoping your mother's too busy with that upcoming duel to blame her for the sudden hostility toward your house. Take care of yourselves alright?

◂▸ Now, onto your actual question: I'm happy to tell you more about ECHO, might even be able to talk you through how to tailor the code to what you need it for. What exactly ECHO does is disguise any messages we send out from this account, cloaking the code to any IP addresses originating from Purview space. I've got it keyed in to cloak us from the devices of any tech guys I know personally too, wouldn't be much of a tool if all it took was a VPN to get around it. Since it's embedded into the posts themselves, you can't get around it by sending the link through from non-Purview space. I've got it coded to block any screengrabs too, so it's about as good as I was able to manage. There's a standard encryption there too, for good measure :]

◂▸ Essentially? With a bit of tweaking, nobody you don't want to see your messages would get to, and nobody monitering your mail would see anything amiss since it cloaks itself in outgoing data. Unless everyone on the planet stopped posting altogether, you should be safe. I made it with secrecy in mind, on top of security- sometimes... sometimes higher powers knowing you're keeping secrets is as dangerous as them knowing what those secrets are. I feel like we might be in the same boat there.

◂▸ I'm attaching the skeleton file here, with some blanks where the specific locations should be: if you need me to walk you through what needs filling out where and how to do that? I'm keeping a channel open for you o7 FILE: [echo_draft04.exe]

◂▸ ...hm? Oh, T-E wants to say something too, here-

XIII▸ Thank you Helios. Lord Raymond, correct? Please tell Lady Rosceline from me, that- ...that whatever her mother says, the collective punishment is no fault of hers. There wasn't a way for her to save them. She had no choice in any of this. It was just... cruelty. It was done because Lady Violet could, because she holds power and wanted to remind her of it. That was the only lesson involved.

XIII▸ Keep your heads down until you think you're clear. It's safer to blend in than shout defiance. Whispering it gets you further, anyway.

//

[bestworstcase]

https://www.tumblr.com/bestworstcase/740971489166311424/httpswwwtumblrcombestworstcase74032567622112

it's the resistance to imagining any ending that does not simply replicate a system that is catastrophically failing right before our eyes and also would not have any reason to exist

I can't speak for everyone, but I think there's a strong aversion to discomfort present in this kind of mentality. There's a lot of lipservice to the notion of change and evolution and revolution, but a lot of fandom and people in general are VERY averse to anything, even storytelling, that doesn't ultimately result in something that they feel is comforting to their points of view or desires.

It's why people keep throwing fits about certain characters not doing things a certain way or according to certain archetypes. It's why certain plot points make people froth in the mouth or outright get it completely wrong.

They don't really seem to care all that much about story as a narrative or as a means to convey complex themes and messages that might be genuinely thought-provoking and uncomfortable, so much as they view stories as an extension of their own comfort zone, even at the expense of the story itself.

i mean. maybe. online culture is very inclined to treat discomfort as a Bad Thing that should be shunned (& in extremes, something people should be protected from feeling at any cost, which is part of what drives the pearl-clutching hays code 2! types).

but i think it's a lot more that:

fandom, being oriented around transformative engagement, is invested in the text primarily as a sandbox; the pervasive cultural attitude toward the text is that things you don't like can be discarded and the rest raided for spare parts. any space whose ethos is "fuck canon!" is going to disincentivize serious analysis of the text in favor of the creation of fanon—which is always homogenized and reduced to tropes because it's an accumulation of popular ideas, i.e. the organic crowdsourced cousin of corporate sanitization for mass appeal.

many fans do not differentiate clearly between canon and fanon to the point that there exists confusion between analysis (interpretation of the text) and headcanon (things held to be true irrespective of the text), which are in fact diametrically opposed and don't meaningfully overlap; consequently fanon is widely conflated with canon in addition to being prioritized.

fanon is shaped by cultural biases within the fandom which generally means "riddled with prejudice and stereotypes" and in rwby's case in particular means "sexist"—the story BEGINS with a fairly overt condemnation of the huntsmen system ("so you may prepare your guardians, build your monuments to a so-called 'free' world, but take heed: there will be no victory in strength"), and at the end of the first act a character gives a speech laying out it in even clearer terms. i do not think it's coincidental that the fandom that twists itself into pretzels to interpret salem and cinder in the harshest possible light is also the fandom that absolutely refuses to consider the possibility that these two characters Have A Point about the huntsmen system, actually.

most stories do not radically alter the narrative status quo. (this is true even of revolutionary narratives—the unjust system present at the beginning of the story will be overturned, yes, but more often than not the characters recognize the injustice from the beginning and at most learn that it's worse than they thought.) most stories do not slowly and inexorably build up to "the heroes are good, but the villain is right, and everyone needs to pull together to fix what is broken" as the climactic resolution. i cannot emphasize enough how unusual rwby is in what it's doing with salem, and the build up has been gradual enough—stretched over literally a decade!—that for longtime fans in particular, it's easy to overlook. fanon fills in the gaps with tropes, the complete monster who cannot comprehend good, the tarnished mentor nevertheless trying his best to do the right thing, the plucky heroes who fulfill his ideals in earnest, and later developments are interpreted through the lens of fanon.

to an extent it's a feature, not a bug: tropes over text is just what fandom is. it's just a lot more noticeable with rwby because a) rwby is an unusual story that does not lend itself easily to fanonification, and b) "the huntsmen system is broken and will fail" is an idea introduced into the narrative by two female villains who have been wronged by that system and the man who built it, so naturally the fandom dismisses it out of hand.

[jcmarchi]

How to Create Multi-Step Forms With Vanilla JavaScript and CSS

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/how-to-create-multi-step-forms-with-vanilla-javascript-and-css/

How to Create Multi-Step Forms With Vanilla JavaScript and CSS

Multi-step forms are a good choice when your form is large and has many controls. No one wants to scroll through a super-long form on a mobile device. By grouping controls on a screen-by-screen basis, we can improve the experience of filling out long, complex forms.

But when was the last time you developed a multi-step form? Does that even sound fun to you? There’s so much to think about and so many moving pieces that need to be managed that I wouldn’t blame you for resorting to a form library or even some type of form widget that handles it all for you.

But doing it by hand can be a good exercise and a great way to polish the basics. I’ll show you how I built my first multi-step form, and I hope you’ll not only see how approachable it can be but maybe even spot areas to make my work even better.

We’ll walk through the structure together. We’ll build a job application, which I think many of us can relate to these recent days. I’ll scaffold the baseline HTML, CSS, and JavaScript first, and then we’ll look at considerations for accessibility and validation.

I’ve created a GitHub repo for the final code if you want to refer to it along the way.

The structure of a multi-step form

Our job application form has four sections, the last of which is a summary view, where we show the user all their answers before they submit them. To achieve this, we divide the HTML into four sections, each identified with an ID, and add navigation at the bottom of the page. I’ll give you that baseline HTML in the next section.

Navigating the user to move through sections means we’ll also include a visual indicator for what step they are at and how many steps are left. This indicator can be a simple dynamic text that updates according to the active step or a fancier progress bar type of indicator. We’ll do the former to keep things simple and focused on the multi-step nature of the form.,

The structure and basic styles

We’ll focus more on the logic, but I will provide the code snippets and a link to the complete code at the end.

Let’s start by creating a folder to hold our pages. Then, create an index.html file and paste the following into it:

Open HTML

<form id="myForm"> <section class="group-one" id="one"> <div class="form-group"> <div class="form-control"> <label for="name">Name <span style="color: red;">*</span></label> <input type="text" id="name" name="name" placeholder="Enter your name"> </div> <div class="form-control"> <label for="idNum">ID number <span style="color: red;">*</span></label> <input type="number" id="idNum" name="idNum" placeholder="Enter your ID number"> </div> </div> <div class="form-group"> <div class="form-control"> <label for="email">Email <span style="color: red;">*</span></label> <input type="email" id="email" name="email" placeholder="Enter your email"> </div> <div class="form-control"> <label for="birthdate">Date of Birth <span style="color: red;">*</span></label> <input type="date" id="birthdate" name="birthdate" max="2006-10-01" min="1924-01-01"> </div> </div> </section> <section class="group-two" id="two"> <div class="form-control"> <label for="document">Upload CV <span style="color: red;">*</span></label> <input type="file" name="document" id="document"> </div> <div class="form-control"> <label for="department">Department <span style="color: red;">*</span></label> <select id="department" name="department"> <option value="">Select a department</option> <option value="hr">Human Resources</option> <option value="it">Information Technology</option> <option value="finance">Finance</option> </select> </div> </section> <section class="group-three" id="three"> <div class="form-control"> <label for="skills">Skills (Optional)</label> <textarea id="skills" name="skills" rows="4" placeholder="Enter your skills"></textarea> </div> <div class="form-control"> <input type="checkbox" name="terms" id="terms"> <label for="terms">I agree to the terms and conditions <span style="color: red;">*</span></label> </div> <button id="btn" type="submit">Confirm and Submit</button> </section> <div class="arrows"> <button type="button" id="navLeft">Previous</button> <span id="stepInfo"></span> <button type="button" id="navRight">Next</button> </div> </form> <script src="script.js"></script>

Looking at the code, you can see three sections and the navigation group. The sections contain form inputs and no native form validation. This is to give us better control of displaying the error messages because native form validation is only triggered when you click the submit button.

Next, create a styles.css file and paste this into it:

Open base styles

:root --primary-color: #8c852a; --secondary-color: #858034; body font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0 auto; padding: 20px; background-color: #f4f4f4; max-width: 600px; h1 text-align: center; form background: #fff; padding: 40px; border-radius: 5px; box-shadow: 0 0 10px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1); display: flex; flex-direction: column; .form-group display: flex; gap: 7%; .form-group > div width: 100%; input:not([type="checkbox"]), select, textarea width: 100%; padding: 8px; border: 1px solid #ddd; border-radius: 4px; .form-control margin-bottom: 15px; button display: block; width: 100%; padding: 10px; color: white; background-color: var(--primary-color); border: none; border-radius: 4px; cursor: pointer; font-size: 16px; button:hover background-color: var(--secondary-color); .group-two, .group-three display: none; .arrows display: flex; justify-content: space-between align-items: center; margin-top: 10px; #navLeft, #navRight width: fit-content; @media screen and (max-width: 600px) .form-group flex-direction: column;

Open up the HTML file in the browser, and you should get something like the two-column layout in the following screenshot, complete with the current page indicator and navigation.

Adding functionality with vanilla JavaScript

Now, create a script.js file in the same directory as the HTML and CSS files and paste the following JavaScript into it:

Open base scripts

const stepInfo = document.getElementById("stepInfo"); const navLeft = document.getElementById("navLeft"); const navRight = document.getElementById("navRight"); const form = document.getElementById("myForm"); const formSteps = ["one", "two", "three"]; let currentStep = 0; function updateStepVisibility() formSteps.forEach((step) => document.getElementById(step).style.display = "none"; ); document.getElementById(formSteps[currentStep]).style.display = "block"; stepInfo.textContent = `Step $currentStep + 1 of $formSteps.length`; navLeft.style.display = currentStep === 0 ? "none" : "block"; navRight.style.display = currentStep === formSteps.length - 1 ? "none" : "block"; document.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded", () => navLeft.style.display = "none"; updateStepVisibility(); navRight.addEventListener("click", () => if (currentStep < formSteps.length - 1) currentStep++; updateStepVisibility(); ); navLeft.addEventListener("click", () => if (currentStep > 0) currentStep--; updateStepVisibility(); ); );

This script defines a method that shows and hides the section depending on the formStep values that correspond to the IDs of the form sections. It updates stepInfo with the current active section of the form. This dynamic text acts as a progress indicator to the user.

It then adds logic that waits for the page to load and click events to the navigation buttons to enable cycling through the different form sections. If you refresh your page, you will see that the multi-step form works as expected.

Multi-step form navigation

Let’s dive deeper into what the Javascript code above is doing. In the updateStepVisibility() function, we first hide all the sections to have a clean slate:

formSteps.forEach((step) => document.getElementById(step).style.display = "none"; );

Then, we show the currently active section:

document.getElementById(formSteps[currentStep]).style.display = "block";`

Next, we update the text that indicators progress through the form:

stepInfo.textContent = `Step $currentStep + 1 of $formSteps.length`;

Finally, we hide the Previous button if we are at the first step and hide the Next button if we are at the last section:

navLeft.style.display = currentStep === 0 ? "none" : "block"; navRight.style.display = currentStep === formSteps.length - 1 ? "none" : "block";

Let’s look at what happens when the page loads. We first hide the Previous button as the form loads on the first section:

document.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded", () => navLeft.style.display = "none"; updateStepVisibility();

Then we grab the Next button and add a click event that conditionally increments the current step count and then calls the updateStepVisibility() function, which then updates the new section to be displayed:

navRight.addEventListener("click", () => if (currentStep < formSteps.length - 1) currentStep++; updateStepVisibility(); );

Finally, we grab the Previous button and do the same thing but in reverse. Here, we are conditionally decrementing the step count and calling the updateStepVisibility():

navLeft.addEventListener("click", () => if (currentStep > 0) currentStep--; updateStepVisibility(); );

Handling errors

Have you ever spent a good 10+ minutes filling out a form only to submit it and get vague errors telling you to correct this and that? I prefer it when a form tells me right away that something’s amiss so that I can correct it before I ever get to the Submit button. That’s what we’ll do in our form.

Our principle is to clearly indicate which controls have errors and give meaningful error messages. Clear errors as the user takes necessary actions. Let’s add some validation to our form. First, let’s grab the necessary input elements and add this to the existing ones:

const nameInput = document.getElementById("name"); const idNumInput = document.getElementById("idNum"); const emailInput = document.getElementById("email"); const birthdateInput = document.getElementById("birthdate") const documentInput = document.getElementById("document"); const departmentInput = document.getElementById("department"); const termsCheckbox = document.getElementById("terms"); const skillsInput = document.getElementById("skills");

Then, add a function to validate the steps:

Open validation script

function validateStep(step)

Here, we check if each required input has some value and if the email input has a valid input. Then, we set the isValid boolean accordingly. We also call a showError() function, which we haven’t defined yet.

Paste this code above the validateStep() function:

function showError(input, message) const formControl = input.parentElement; const errorSpan = formControl.querySelector(".error-message"); input.classList.add("error"); errorSpan.textContent = message;

Now, add the following styles to the stylesheet:

Open validation styles

input:focus, select:focus, textarea:focus outline: .5px solid var(--primary-color); input.error, select.error, textarea.error outline: .5px solid red; .error-message font-size: x-small; color: red; display: block; margin-top: 2px; .arrows color: var(--primary-color); font-size: 18px; font-weight: 900; #navLeft, #navRight display: flex; align-items: center; gap: 10px; #stepInfo color: var(--primary-color);

If you refresh the form, you will see that the buttons do not take you to the next section till the inputs are considered valid:

Finally, we want to add real-time error handling so that the errors go away when the user starts inputting the correct information. Add this function below the validateStep() function:

Open real-time validation script

function setupRealtimeValidation() nameInput.addEventListener("input", () => if (nameInput.value.trim() !== "") clearError(nameInput); ); idNumInput.addEventListener("input", () => if (idNumInput.value.trim() !== "") clearError(idNumInput); ); emailInput.addEventListener("input", () => if (emailInput.validity.valid) clearError(emailInput); ); birthdateInput.addEventListener("change", () => if (birthdateInput.value !== "") clearError(birthdateInput); ); documentInput.addEventListener("change", () => if (documentInput.files[0]) clearError(documentInput); ); departmentInput.addEventListener("change", () => if (departmentInput.value !== "") clearError(departmentInput); ); termsCheckbox.addEventListener("change", () => if (termsCheckbox.checked) clearError(termsCheckbox); );

This function clears the errors if the input is no longer invalid by listening to input and change events then calling a function to clear the errors. Paste the clearError() function below the showError() one:

function clearError(input) const formControl = input.parentElement; const errorSpan = formControl.querySelector(".error-message"); input.classList.remove("error"); errorSpan.textContent = "";

And now the errors clear when the user types in the correct value:

The multi-step form now handles errors gracefully. If you do decide to keep the errors till the end of the form, then at the very least, jump the user back to the erroring form control and show some indication of how many errors they need to fix.

Handling form submission

In a multi-step form, it is valuable to show the user a summary of all their answers at the end before they submit and to offer them an option to edit their answers if necessary. The person can’t see the previous steps without navigating backward, so showing a summary at the last step gives assurance and a chance to correct any mistakes.

Let’s add a fourth section to the markup to hold this summary view and move the submit button within it. Paste this just below the third section in index.html:

Open HTML

<section class="group-four" id="four"> <div class="summary-section"> <p>Name: </p> <p id="name-val"></p> <button type="button" class="edit-btn" id="name-edit"> <span>✎</span> <span>Edit</span> </button> </div> <div class="summary-section"> <p>ID Number: </p> <p id="id-val"></p> <button type="button" class="edit-btn" id="id-edit"> <span>✎</span> <span>Edit</span> </button> </div> <div class="summary-section"> <p>Email: </p> <p id="email-val"></p> <button type="button" class="edit-btn" id="email-edit"> <span>✎</span> <span>Edit</span> </button> </div> <div class="summary-section"> <p>Date of Birth: </p> <p id="bd-val"></p> <button type="button" class="edit-btn" id="bd-edit"> <span>✎</span> <span>Edit</span> </button> </div> <div class="summary-section"> <p>CV/Resume: </p> <p id="cv-val"></p> <button type="button" class="edit-btn" id="cv-edit"> <span>✎</span> <span>Edit</span> </button> </div> <div class="summary-section"> <p>Department: </p> <p id="dept-val"></p> <button type="button" class="edit-btn" id="dept-edit"> <span>✎</span> <span>Edit</span> </button> </div> <div class="summary-section"> <p>Skills: </p> <p id="skills-val"></p> <button type="button" class="edit-btn" id="skills-edit"> <span>✎</span> <span>Edit</span> </button> </div> <button id="btn" type="submit">Confirm and Submit</button> </section>

Then update the formStep in your Javascript to read:

const formSteps = ["one", "two", "three", "four"];

Finally, add the following classes to styles.css:

.summary-section display: flex; align-items: center; gap: 10px; .summary-section p:first-child width: 30%; flex-shrink: 0; border-right: 1px solid var(--secondary-color); .summary-section p:nth-child(2) width: 45%; flex-shrink: 0; padding-left: 10px; .edit-btn width: 25%; margin-left: auto; background-color: transparent; color: var(--primary-color); border: .7px solid var(--primary-color); border-radius: 5px; padding: 5px; .edit-btn:hover border: 2px solid var(--primary-color); font-weight: bolder; background-color: transparent;

Now, add the following to the top of the script.js file where the other consts are:

const nameVal = document.getElementById("name-val"); const idVal = document.getElementById("id-val"); const emailVal = document.getElementById("email-val"); const bdVal = document.getElementById("bd-val") const cvVal = document.getElementById("cv-val"); const deptVal = document.getElementById("dept-val"); const skillsVal = document.getElementById("skills-val"); const editButtons = "name-edit": 0, "id-edit": 0, "email-edit": 0, "bd-edit": 0, "cv-edit": 1, "dept-edit": 1, "skills-edit": 2 ;

Then add this function in scripts.js:

function updateSummaryValues() nameVal.textContent = nameInput.value; idVal.textContent = idNumInput.value; emailVal.textContent = emailInput.value; bdVal.textContent = birthdateInput.value; const fileName = documentInput.files[0]?.name; if (fileName) const extension = fileName.split(".").pop(); const baseName = fileName.split(".")[0]; const truncatedName = baseName.length > 10 ? baseName.substring(0, 10) + "..." : baseName; cvVal.textContent = `$truncatedName.$extension`; else cvVal.textContent = "No file selected"; deptVal.textContent = departmentInput.value; skillsVal.textContent = skillsInput.value || "No skills submitted"; }

This dynamically inserts the input values into the summary section of the form, truncates the file names, and offers a fallback text for the input that was not required.

Then update the updateStepVisibility() function to call the new function:

function updateStepVisibility() formSteps.forEach((step) => document.getElementById(step).style.display = "none"; ); document.getElementById(formSteps[currentStep]).style.display = "block"; stepInfo.textContent = `Step $currentStep + 1 of $formSteps.length`; if (currentStep === 3) updateSummaryValues(); navLeft.style.display = currentStep === 0 ? "none" : "block"; navRight.style.display = currentStep === formSteps.length - 1 ? "none" : "block";

Finally, add this to the DOMContentLoaded event listener:

Object.keys(editButtons).forEach((buttonId) => const button = document.getElementById(buttonId); button.addEventListener("click", (e) => currentStep = editButtons[buttonId]; updateStepVisibility(); ); );

Running the form, you should see that the summary section shows all the inputted values and allows the user to edit any before submitting the information:

And now, we can submit our form:

form.addEventListener("submit", (e) => e.preventDefault(); if (validateStep(2)) alert("Form submitted successfully!"); form.reset(); currentFormStep = 0; updateStepVisibility(); );

Our multi-step form now allows the user to edit and see all the information they provide before submitting it.

Accessibility tips

Making multi-step forms accessible starts with the basics: using semantic HTML. This is half the battle. It is closely followed by using appropriate form labels.

Other ways to make forms more accessible include giving enough room to elements that must be clicked on small screens and giving meaningful descriptions to the form navigation and progress indicators.

Offering feedback to the user is an important part of it; it’s not great to auto-dismiss user feedback after a certain amount of time but to allow the user to dismiss it themselves. Paying attention to contrast and font choice is important, too, as they both affect how readable your form is.

Let’s make the following adjustments to the markup for more technical accessibility:

Add aria-required="true" to all inputs except the skills one. This lets screen readers know the fields are required without relying on native validation.

Add role="alert" to the error spans. This helps screen readers know to give it importance when the input is in an error state.

Add role="status" aria-live="polite" to the .stepInfo. This will help screen readers understand that the step info keeps tabs on a state, and the aria-live being set to polite indicates that should the value change, it does not need to immediately announce it.

In the script file, replace the showError() and clearError() functions with the following:

function showError(input, message) const formControl = input.parentElement; const errorSpan = formControl.querySelector(".error-message"); input.classList.add("error"); input.setAttribute("aria-invalid", "true"); input.setAttribute("aria-describedby", errorSpan.id); errorSpan.textContent = message; function clearError(input) const formControl = input.parentElement; const errorSpan = formControl.querySelector(".error-message"); input.classList.remove("error"); input.removeAttribute("aria-invalid"); input.removeAttribute("aria-describedby"); errorSpan.textContent = "";

Here, we programmatically add and remove attributes that explicitly tie the input with its error span and show that it is in an invalid state.

Finally, let’s add focus on the first input of every section; add the following code to the end of the updateStepVisibility() function:

const currentStepElement = document.getElementById(formSteps[currentStep]); const firstInput = currentStepElement.querySelector( "input, select, textarea" ); if (firstInput) firstInput.focus();

And with that, the multi-step form is much more accessible.

Conclusion

There we go, a four-part multi-step form for a job application! As I said at the top of this article, there’s a lot to juggle — so much so that I wouldn’t fault you for looking for an out-of-the-box solution.

But if you have to hand-roll a multi-step form, hopefully now you see it’s not a death sentence. There’s a happy path that gets you there, complete with navigation and validation, without turning away from good, accessible practices.

And this is just how I approached it! Again, I took this on as a personal challenge to see how far I could get, and I’m pretty happy with it. But I’d love to know if you see additional opportunities to make this even more mindful of the user experience and considerate of accessibility.

References

Here are some relevant links I referred to when writing this article:

How to Structure a Web Form (MDN)

Multi-page Forms (W3C.org)

Create accessible forms (A11y Project)

[kaitlynwgst]

Blog Post #6 (10/10)

How does technology contribute to violence against women?

Women are subjected to gender-based violence in the real world and then on the internet they are often met with only more violence (Hernandez). Women are subjected to everything from unwanted images being sent to them to harassment on social media. Some of the online violence can even leak into the real world with people being stalked by those who found them online or being doxed. With the recent development of AI, the issue has only gotten worse with fake, often explicit, images of women being made and shared without their consent or even knowledge. The story of Ingrid Escamilla is a n example of how the internet can further the harm done to women, when the police leaked the images of her mutilated body the images were shared over and over again on the internet (Hernandez). Even after death she could not escape the violence brought against women in the internet.

How can social media be used to help advocate for women?

Technology can contribute greatly to the violence women are subjected to but it can also provide a space for women to advocate for themselves in a way that has not previously been possible. Activist groups and social movements often use social media to share their stories and spread their message. One way that this is done is through Hashtags on posts which make it easy for women to share their own stories and add their own words to a larger movement. Another way that social media is often used is for safety, when activists are protesting and advocating for change their presence on social media can give them a layer of protection through their visibility and the fact that the world is watching them. Again, the story of Ingrid Escamilla can show the good that social media can used for. When the images of her body where being shared and going viral a movement was started asking artists to create images of a living version of her to drown the images of her body on social media and the movement worked making it so when her name was searched the images the artists created came up first (Hernandez).

Why can the internet never truly be neutral?

The internet was originally funded by the US military and was furthered by universities both of these institutions have been traditionally filled with and created by white men. Then as the internet has developed many of the coders in Silicon Valley are again white men (Noble). With the internet created by and for white men it cannot truly be neutral or equally inclusive to everyone as it was created by biased individuals who’s bias has affected what is created.

How can saying the internet is neutral be harmful?

The internet which has often been claimed to be neutral but when its creators are predominately white men it is not only incorrect but can be harmful to claim it to be such. When these coders claim that gender and race are not an issue and that the internet is neutral, they are ignoring the issue and ignoring the privilege that they have in being able to say that gender and race are non-issues. This leads to then seeing themselves and people like them as the default and the codes they create catering to individuals like them, white men (Noble). When gender and race and the historical and societal impacts of them are ignored, it leads to default discrimination (Benjamin).

Benjamin, R. (2020). Race after technology abolitionist tools for the new Jim code. Polity. 

Hunsinger, J., & Senft, T. M. (2015). The Social Media Handbook. Routledge. 

Hernández, Dr. Miriam. Digital Defenders: Using Social Media to Challenge Violence Against Women. 9 October. 2024. Presentation