#i want the full text of this printed on a blanket

[noknowshame]

author's asleep posting The Persons of the Tale by Robert Louis Stevenson

(from Stevenson's short story collection Fables, published in 1896)

............... .............. .................

THE PERSONS OF THE TALE.

AFTER the 32nd chapter of Treasure Island, two of the puppets strolled out to have a pipe before business should begin again, and met in an open place not far from the story.

"Good morning, Cap'n," said the first, with a man-o'-war salute and a beaming countenance.

"Ah, Silver!" grunted the other. "You're in a bad way, Silver."

"Now, Cap'n Smollett," remonstrated Silver, "dooty is dooty, as I knows, and none better; but we're off dooty now; and I can't see no call to keep up the morality business."

"You're a damned rogue, my man," said the Captain.

"Come, come, Cap'n, be just," returned the other. "There's no call to be angry with me in earnest. I'm on'y a chara'ter in a sea story. I don't really exist."

"Well, I don't really exist either," says the Captain, "which seems to meet that."

"I wouldn't set no limits to what a virtuous chara'ter might consider argument," responded Silver. "But I'm the villain of this tale, I am; and speaking as one seafaring man to another, what I want to know is, what's the odds?"

"Were you never taught your catechism?" said the Captain. "Don't you know there's such a thing as an Author?"

"Such a thing as a Author?" returned John, derisively. "And who better'n me? And the p'int is, if the Author made you, he made Long John, and he made Hands, and Pew, and George Merry—not that George is up to much, for he's little more'n a name; and he made Flint, what there is of him; and he made this here mutiny, you keep such a work about; and he had Tom Redruth shot; and—well, if that's a Author, give me Pew!"

"Don't you believe in a future state?" said Smollett. "Do you think there's nothing but the present story-paper?"

"I don't rightly know for that," said Silver; "and I don't see what it's got to do with it, anyway. What I know is this: if there is sich a thing as a Author, I'm his favourite chara'ter. He does me fathoms better'n he does you—fathoms, he does. And he likes doing me. He keeps me on deck mostly all the time, crutch and all; and he leaves you measling in the hold, where nobody can't see you, nor wants to, and you may lay to that! If there is a Author, by thunder, but he's on my side, and you may lay to it!"

"I see he's giving you a long rope," said the Captain. "But that can't change a man's convictions. I know the author respects me; I feel it in my bones; when you and I had that talk at the blockhouse door, who do you think he was for, my man?"

"And don't he respect me?" cried Silver. "Ah, you should 'a' heard me putting down my mutiny, George Merry and Morgan and that lot, no longer ago'n last chapter; you'd 'a' heard something then! You'd 'a' seen what the Author thinks o' me! But come now, do you consider yourself a virtuous chara'ter clean through?"

"God forbid!" said Captain Smollett solemnly. "I am a man that tries to do his duty, and makes a mess of it as often as not. I'm not a very popular man at home, Silver, I'm afraid," and the Captain sighed.

"Ah," says Silver. "Then how about this sequel of yours? Are you to be Cap'n Smollett just the same as ever, and not very popular at home, says you! And if so, why it's Treasure Island over again, by thunder; and I'll be Long John, and Pew'll be Pew; and we'll have another mutiny, as like as not. Or are you to be somebody else? And if so, why, what the better are you? and what the worse am I?"

"Why, look here, my man," returned the Captain, "I can't understand how this story comes about at all, can I? I can't see how you and I, who don't exist, should get to speaking here, and smoke our pipes, for all the world like reality? Very well, then, who am I to pipe up with my opinions? I know the Author's on the side of good; he tells me so, it runs out of his pen as he writes. Well, that's all I need to know; I'll take my chance upon the rest."

"It's a fact he seemed to be against George Merry," Silver admitted musingly. "But George is little more'n a name at the best of it," he added brightening. "And to get into soundings for once. What is this good? I made a mutiny, and I been a gentleman o' fortune; well, but by all stories, you ain't no such saint. I'm a man that keeps company very easy; even by your own account, you ain't, and to my certain knowledge, you're a devil to haze. Which is which? Which is good, and which bad? Ah, you tell me that! Here we are in stays, and you may lay to it!"

"We're none of us perfect," replied the Captain. "That's a fact of religion, my man. All I can say is, I try to do my duty; and if you try to do yours, I can't compliment you on your success."

"And so you was the judge, was you?" said Silver, derisively.

"I would be both judge and hangman for you, my man, and never turn a hair," returned the Captain. "But I get beyond that: it mayn't be sound theology, but it's common sense, that what is good is useful too—or there and thereabout, for I don't set up to be a thinker. Now, where would a story go to, if there were no virtuous characters?"

"If you go to that," replied Silver, "where would a story begin, if there wasn't no villains?"

"Well, that's pretty much my thought," said Captain Smollett. "The author has to get a story; that's what he wants; and to get a story, and to have a man like the doctor (say) given a proper chance, he has to put in men like you and Hands. But he's on the right side; and you mind your eye! You're not through this story yet; there's trouble coming for you."

"What'll you bet?" asked John.

"Much I care if there ain't," returned the Captain. "I'm glad enough to be Alexander Smollett, bad as he is; and I thank my stars upon my knees that I'm not Silver. But there's the ink-bottle opening. To quarters!"

And indeed the author was just then beginning to write the words:

CHAPTER XXXIII.

[st4rbwrry]

STICKY ☆ eren yeager.

☆. warnings ~ 2.8k. fem!reader, black coded, self pleasure, eren gives us a massage w oil, blowjob, dj on the clit, unedited, kissing, praise, pet names dnt feel like listing, vulgar language, teasing, mention of cycle, dry humping, titty sucking, neck kisses, minors do not interact! reblogs & comments are appreciated.

because this just happened to me and i had no choice but to write it. but imagine eren giving you a full body rub down massage with some shea butter scented baby oil while the two of you watch crime documentaries on netflix. it’s playing soundlessly in the background while the two of you lay comfortably on the black velvet sectional sofa in your cozy studio apartment. it’s raining outside, nighttime nearing. your home smells like salted lemon meringue pie; a candle eren bought for you because he said it reminded him of you.

warm, soft, and sweet. the two of you are cuddling together on the long part of the couch, eren completely pressed up against your left side slowly rubbing your ass in circles under your fuzzy pink blanket. you’re so into your show, sipping on a can of mango arizona, only dressed in an oversized anime tshirt and a pair of pink lace panties printed with hearts that matched the bralette underneath your shirt. he can’t stop touching you. leaning his head on your shoulder, his legs spread out in his gray sweats before his hands sink lower under your blanket to knead into the soft flesh of your hips. delicately working his way up your spine with the points of his thumbs to rub out any tense muscles. you can’t help but giggle at his move, smiling into your hair and biting your lip the higher his hands rise.

massaging your back, hands slipping underneath your bralette as he chews on his pouty lips and scrunch his eyebrows in a focused manner. intent on making you feel good. he knows you’ve been working hard so your body’s been a bit heavy. and you’re dreading heading to work tomorrow morning. so he wanted to ease that stress, as well as the hard-on he’d gotten in his sweats just from the faint moans falling past your pretty lips.

“take this off,” his voice his deep, sultry in its tone and he can’t help it. it drips off his tongue like honey. touching you has his body on fire.

dropping your phone you had picked up to check a text from your best friend, you do as he says, lifting your shirt so you’re left only in your cute lingerie set. eren stands to his full height and clears his throat as he fixes his dick in his sweats. he had to mentally remind himself that you’re ending your cycle and you aren’t really in the mood to have sex. but fuck you’re making it hard looking and sounding like that. you stare with a mischievous grin, following him as he walks towards your bathroom to find your body oil. he comes back, pushing your coffee table back so he can crouch on the floor before you.

“c’mon, lay on your stomach.”

and you’re doing just that. snuggling a neon pink easter bunny plushie close to your face for leverage. eren hums to himself, eyeing your backside as he squirts oil into his big palm and massages them together before rubbing your body down gently. he’s targeting every curve, muscle, tense area. heavy hands gliding across your brown skin with ease. he even uses his forearms and elbows to get those spots like a real masseuse. you’re moaning from how good it feels, shifting in your spot.

eren notices a inconvenience and says. “i need this off too, babe.”

he’s referring to your bralette. you laugh lightly, making a comment about how he’s trying to be nasty when you told him no. he says he promises it isn’t like that. both of you knowing damn well that it’s like that. throughout your princess treatment that you were grateful for, needing it so bad, eren begins to get bold. rubbing his palms over your ass and thick thighs, and then in between. this is torture for you considering your period was a big cockblock. she’s ending but you’re in that spotting phase that goes on and off. and you didn’t have time to check before his little teaser. your hormones were everywhere. being away from him for a full week, no dick, no head, eren’s consistent fucking with you knowing you can’t do anything . . . it’s all pent up. you needed a release so bad. and he’s playing games right now. slyly pulling your underwear down, eren saying ‘relax’ when you get too antsy before rolling and kneading your ass cheeks.

“erenn, stop,” his name comes out airy. your face is planted flat into the couch as your eyes loses their focus and your lower halve begins to ache.

“you don’t sound like you want me to stop.”

and he’s fucking right, you really don’t. you whine, twisting your ass side to side. eren chuckles and slips your panties back up, finishing with the back of your thighs giving you time to breathe with relief. until he’s back again, spreading your legs a little more so he can get into between to touch your pussy. long fingers rushing over your clothes clit, fabric becoming damper from your uncontrolled arousal. how could he make something so intimate instantly nasty? the man can’t focus on one task. his brain switches like a fuse. hissing to himself, he rubs your hardened clit in circles, taking his time, not wanting to get you too riled up. he couldn’t fuck you after all.

your face curls up in pleasure, breathing his name again, your hair covering your view of his face. hips grinding against his hand and gripping your plushie tighter. he smacks your ass a few times, loves to watch it bounce even in the dark living room you currently reside in. eren drags his right hand up your entire backside before placing it on the back of your neck to choke you, not too hard, just enough to hold you still. he’s leaning down, bringing his face mouth to your ear and breathing like a feral animal. spanking you over and over to hear you whimper and whine. squirming in your spot with annoyance when he removes his hand from your cunt, hot and needing more attention immediately.

“okay i’m done,” he announces, rubbing the remaining oil into his own skin and smiling like a cocky bastard. you groan with irritation, shoving your face into your plushie as he stands and laughs like an asshole.

“fuck you, bro.”

“you can’t, remember.”

he’s really testing you. now is not the time to test you. he takes a seat beside you after you advert your attention back onto your show, resting your chin in your palm and purposely ignoring him. titties all out and everything. eren spreads his longs legs as wide as they go, your eyes catching the tint in his crotch. he’s got his arm thrown on the headrest of the couch, looking down at you without your knowledge just to see what you would do. he wants his dick in your mouth so bad. if your willing to do it is the question that remains. it’s not really about him right now, is what your thinking. you gave him the sloppiest head literally yesterday before he had to leave for work, cum and salvia covering your face as you gagged and sucked him off like he’d run away. attempted? definitely. he couldn’t stop moaning and squirming away. especially when you overstimulated him after he nutted, cum shooting in your left eye mind you, risking a damn pink eye for his satisfaction. and he can’t grant you this one thing? you didn’t even want him to fuck you. you just wanted him to touch you.

so you know what you do? you turn your body clockwise to face him, looking up at him as he avoids eye contact and keeps them at the projector on your wall.

“i hate you,” you start with, shifting your hips so he can watch your ass move. you touch his stomach over his hoodie, the man still dressed from earlier when the two of you ran out to get food and came back to get lazy and watch horror movies. not really horror. it was it follows, side note, horrible film.

“why?”

“because you know i can’t fuck you right now, so you’re teasing me.”

“mhm,” he tongues his inner cheek, jade eyes catching your swiftly before redirecting them back to the show. “be a good girl.”

“don’t wanna,” you pout, lifting your upper body to press your face into his neck, kissing and sucking and eren immediately succumbs to you. it’s the most sensitive area on his entire body, other than his hips. he hissed and tosses his head back.

“stop,” he grumbles, but you don’t listen. rolling your neck to catch every inch of his neck with your lips. “stop.”

when he says it that time it’s stern, eren locking your neck in his grasp as he clenches his jaw, dick hard as fuck. he knocks his knees in and out, staring your pretty face down, a smile all over it. unable to contain it, he kisses you. sloppy and with tongue. your hands smoothing down to his crotch to palm the outline of his dick. eren inhales deeply, reaching between your heated thighs to rub your clit again through your panties. gasping, you lift your left leg to give him better access. grinding against his hand as he watches your face churn with contentment.

“gonna be a good girl now?” he taunts, you nod your head that now lays in the crook of his neck, moaning and kissing him still. he’s loosing his self control at this point. your tits are pressed together as you grip the back pillow of the couch and ride his hand, squealing and whimpering. your sounds take over him and he’s soon pulling his sweats to sit at his knees, heavy cock slapping at his abdomen, a clear pearl of pre sitting at the tip.

his hand swerves to the back of your neck to turn your head and push your face to his lap where his dick sat, hard and needy. honestly, your not in the mood to suck dick, your jaw going sore yesterday . . . but for your man, you’ll do anything.

“don’t care what you say,” he shifts up a little so you have better access. “suck on it.”

only your mouth encases his cock, hands clutching his hoodie, cheeks hollowing as you take him deeper and suck hard just like he loves. focusing mostly on the tip because it makes him twitch and you love that reaction more than anything. love when he’s moaning ‘fuck’ or ‘fuck me, baby’ cause it makes you feel good inside. while your head bobs he continues to fuck you with his fingers, reaching inside your panties this time to toy with your clit better. eren comes to his senses and realizes if this proceeds he’s going to fuck you real bad. he swears to god he’s ready to lay a towel down and say fuck it forreal. but he knows it’s not something you’re comfortable with.

“c’mere, princess,” he speaks to you in that low, listen to me tone. you let his dick go with a sloppy pop, swallowing the remainder of spit in your mouth before leveling your face with his, batting your lashes and pushing your matted hair out the way. “do me a favor and cum for me, okay?”

“ ‘kay,” nodding your head mindlessly, eren gets lost in pleasing you again, wrapping his hand around his dick to stroke it while he finger fucks you. nothing compares to when you do it, though. you’ve ruined him, honestly. but he wants to keep it hard for you ‘cause he knows you want it after.

he notices your breath hitching, placing your hand over his when he loses his position and tries to sink his fingers in but you really want him to stay on your clit. you’re about to cum, he also knows because your burying your face in his neck and nodding frequently after he asks, “you cummin’ , princess?”’

“y-yess, m’cummin!” squeaks and mewls stream out of you and he swears it’s the prettiest thing every time you do it. eren latches his mouth back onto yours, groaning as he stops stroking his dick and shoves his tongue in your mouth. your hands have a death grip on his wrist as your thighs enclose his forearm to stop him, already sore.

“there we go, that’s my girl,” he kisses your forehead after, letting you take a moment to calm down before he’s coming up with another attack. doesn’t even give your five full minutes before he’s telling you to get up. and you sulk, whining because you don’t want to move.

“noooo,” you pout at him but he’s not hearing it, grabbing your arms and picking you up to place you on the edge of the sectional. he’s on his knees again before you, dragging you closer so your ass nearly hangs off and intertwines perfectly with his hips. “trying so hard not to fuck you.”

stretching your arms above you, you giggle like your drunk, playfully telling him to get off of you but of course he doesn’t listen. eren’s hovering his big figure above yours, bringing his head down to dart his thick tongue out and drag it slowly over your left nipple, soon latching his cotton candy lips around the bud and sucking. pulling it along as he rotates his head and moans with his eyes shut. you let him do as he pleases, always intrigued when he gets into his moments. as he’s sucking on your chest that’s when he starts grinding his hips forward to fuck against you. the bulge in his sweats rut on your clit waking it up for round two.

“fuck this,” eren makes a pained noise as he tugs his sweats down to reveal his cock again, scooting closer and sitting higher to position it right on your soaked clit he slaps with the tip a few times, dark eyes eyeing you as you bite your lip and moan like a slut from that little play.

eren’s placing your legs over his shoulders, like he loves to do, arching over you so your knees are close to your shoulders. he makes sure your thighs stay closed so the pressure on his dick feels better for friction. he begins to lick up your chest, trailing up to your neck where he laps his tongue and follows with kisses, fucking with you just like you did with him. you’re just as sensitive there. tossing your head back and moaning, gripping onto his shirt since he removed his hoodie, rolling your eyes back. and it gets worse when he starts ramming his dick like he’s actually fucking you. he’s following the bounce of your tits while he rolls his hips and fucks his dick on your sluice folds drinking in the fabric of your panties. your thighs making this feel so much fucking better. it feels good for you too.

“fuck, ma,” eren smacks the outside of your thigh, grunting and hastening his pace, skin slapping and it’s all making your mind hazy. “got me feelin’ like this without bein’ deep in your pussy.”

“erennn, you look so good,” it slips from your mouth without your own permission. you made a mental comment about how good he looks fucking you right now. long hair messy around his face, silver rings on his digits along with spiky or cuban link bracelets on his wrist. ink tatted on various parts of his body. his perfect white teeth sinking into his bottom lip. he’s too fucking handsome. and he’s all yours.

“i look good, huh baby?” he chuckles between a strangled moan, brows creasing.

“unh huh,” you huff out, reaching up to caress his face in your dainty hands.

“you look fuckin’ better,” his eyes turn white as your body rolls somewhat to your right side, eren able to hit it from the side, this position constricting his dick tighter, pounding harder. “fuck, n’ it’s gonna make me nut jus’ lookin’ at you.”

“keep looking,” you bite your lip and keep your face to his, the two of you breathing in each others air. “stare at me when you cum. wanna watch your face.”

“fuck,” it’s crazy what you do to him. because not even a few seconds later he’s shooting cum right on your tummy and it’s a lot, keeps going as he shudders and keeps his eyes on yours like you wanted. he’ll bite his lip off at some point with how much force he’s applying. might even get a headache from his eyes turning white. it’s all worth it though.

you smile like you’ve made the biggest achievement, curling your hands up into a ball and planting your cheek on it, falling back with a dreamy sigh. he’s the prettiest, and he’s all yours.

“i hate you,” eren runs his hands through his hair with a deep laugh, his dick still unable to stop leaking cum. he smacks your thigh again. “fuckin’ hate you.”

“you started it.”

© 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖊. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[joelmillerisapunk]

candy hearts

Joel Miller x Reader

masterlist

↳ wordcount: 3k

↳ summary: In the post-apocalyptic world, you and Joel find solace in each other's arms. As you explore an abandoned building, a stray acoustic guitar becomes the catalyst for a passionate night of music and intimacy.

~or~

You find the perfect Valentine's gift for Joel

↳ warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, this is during the outbreak

↳ notes: Happy Valentine's. Will you be mine? 🥹 tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

As you and Joel make your way through another abandoned building, you can't help but feel a sense of relief. It's Valentine's Day, and you're grateful to have Joel's company and a roof currently over your head in the midst of the chaos and uncertainty of the outbreak.

“See If you can find a good spot to set up for the night, I'll make sure the rest of the house is clear.” As Joel starts rummaging through cupboards and drawers, he comes across a stash of old candy hearts tucked away in a corner. "Hey, look at this," he says, picking up the candy and showing it to you. "It's those dumb candy hearts. Must be from before the outbreak."

You walk up to Joel and take a candy, reading the red printed message on it: "U R CUTE." You can't help but smile and chuckle at the simple, heartfelt sentiment.

Joel picks out a candy heart with a message that catches his eye: "Be Mine." He holds it out to you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, will ya?," he says, his voice flirty.

You take the candy heart and look at the hard to read text, "Be Mine, huh?" you say, trying to sound coy. "Well, I don't know, Miller. What's in it for me?"

Joel grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "What do you want?" he asks, his voice low and playful.

You give Joel a flirtatious smile and say, "Well, for starters, how about you try to find some blankets for our bed? Wouldn't want to catch a cold on Valentine's Day."

Joel's grin widens, and he nods. "I think I can manage that," he says, his voice full of promise.

As you head upstairs, you continue to playfully banter. "And maybe, just maybe, if you're lucky, I'll let you share my body heat," you say, winking over your shoulder.

Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'll do my best to earn that privilege," he replies, a playful glint in his eyes.

As you reach the top floor, you start scouting for a good spot to set up camp for the night. You come across a large, open room with a few pieces of furniture scattered around, and you immediately feel drawn to it.

"This looks perfect," you say, setting down your bag and starting to unpack your things. As you're setting up your makeshift bed, you notice something in the corner of the room that catches your eye.

It's an old, worn acoustic guitar.

Your heart skips a beat as you make your way towards it, feeling like you've struck gold. You run your fingers gently over the strings, plucking them softly to test their sound. To your surprise, they don't sound bad, but they could sound better. You quickly remember the spare strings you salvaged a few months back from a broken guitar body and pulled them from your bag, excited to replace the strings and surprise Joel.

But just as you start removing the strings, the job proves harder than usual. Taking the strings off is easy, but you aren't paying attention to where they come out from on the guitar as you pull the original ones out. As you continue, you hear Joel's footsteps on the stairs. You turn around just in time to see him enter the room, a stack of blankets in his arms.

"That doesn't look like a bed," he says, his eyes scanning the room.

You grin, feeling a rush of excitement. "No, it's not," you say, pulling out the new strings that you've been saving for months. "But I found something even better."

Joel's eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he takes in the strings in his calloused hands. "Where did you find these?" he asks, his voice full of curiosity.

"I found them a few months ago," you say, holding up one of the strings. "I was just waiting for the perfect guitar to come along."

Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "And you think that there is the perfect guitar?" he asks, looking at the old acoustic guitar with a skeptical eye.

You nod, feeling a sense of determination. "I do," you say, starting to replace the strings.

He starts watching you with amusement as you try to figure out the first string. “Need help darlin’?”

You look up at him pausing, “No, you already ruined the whole surprise part. I'm not letting you ruin this for me too."

Joel grins, shaking his head in amazement and chukles. "You're kinda sneaky, huh?"

You giggle. "Maybe a little," you wink at him.

As you work, Joel sits down next to you, watching with interest and amusement. “You sure you don't need help? Can I just show you how to do one at least?”

You roll your eyes, trying to act like you've got it all under control, but you can't help but feel a little embarrassed. "Fine, fine," you say, handing the guitar over to Joel.

Joel takes the guitar from you, a smug look on his face. "Alright, let's see what we've got here," he says, examining the guitar closely.

Before you know it he's swapped out more than a couple, “Hey, you said you were gonna show me one not fix the entire thing.”

Joel smiles and then begins showing you how to properly replace a string. You watch carefully, trying to commit his movements to memory.

"Alright, last one you try," he says, handing the guitar back to you.

You take the guitar, feeling a sense of determination. You carefully thread the string through then wrap it around the peg, pulling it tight. You turn the peg, watching as the string tightens and the pitch rises.

Joel's eyes twinkle with excitement as he watches you replace the last string. "Not bad at all," he says, impressed with your progress. "You might just have a talent for this."

You smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Well, I've been saving these strings for the perfect guitar," you say, running your fingers gently over the now-tightened strings.

Joel's eyes linger on your hands, a hint of desire in their depths. "I think you've found the perfect one, alright, darlin"

"I hope so," you say, giving him a playful smile.

Joel grins back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, let's see if we can get a tune out of it, shall we?" he says, grabbing the guitar and testing the strings.

You pick up the blanket and pillows from your bag, laying them out on the makeshift bed. "You make yourself comfortable while I finish setting up this bed," you say, glancing back at Joel as he tunes the guitar.

Inspecting the guitar, Joel's fingers find the right chords, and the room fills with the sweet sound of a well-played tune. "Well, I'll be damned. It sounds almost new, whatcha think darlin’ how does that sound?" he calls out to you, his voice rich with the melody.

You can't help but be mesmerized. "Sounds amazing," you say, your voice filled with wonder.

Joel smiles, a sense of satisfaction in his eyes. "I've sure missed playin this thing," he says, strumming the guitar once more.

"Would you teach me how to play that?" you ask.

Joel's eyes light up, and he nods enthusiastically. "Of course, darlin'," he says, setting the guitar down and offering it to you.

You take the guitar, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect of learning something new. Joel sits you down on his lap, guiding your hands as you place them on the strings.

"Now, first things first," he says, adjusting your fingers on the frets. "You've got to get the grip just right."

You nod, focusing intently on Joels hands, mostly how good they feel on top of yours, so large, so rough. "Got it," you say, feeling the strings beneath your fingertips.

Joel's eyes linger on your hands, a hint of desire in their depths. "That's it baby, just like that," he says, his voice low and seductive. "Now, let's try a chord."

You follow his instructions, strumming the strings as he showed you. "Wow, that's actually not as hard as I thought," you say, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

Joel grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "See, you're a natural," he says, winking at you. As you continue to practice playing the guitar, Joel's hands rest on your hips, his breath warm against your neck as he watches you play. The room is filled with the sweet sound of music, and you can't help but feel a sense of contentment.

Finally, Joel sets the guitar aside and looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes. "I think that's enough practice for now," he says. “Come on to bed now, baby.”

The two of you settle into the makeshift bed, pulling the blankets up around you as you snuggle close to one another. "Hey, darlin'," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I'm feeling a little cold. Mind if I snuggle up to you?”

"I'm cold too," you say, your voice low and seductive. "Maybe we can help each other warm up.”

Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think that can be arranged," he says, pulling you closer to him.

As you snuggle up to one another, your bodies pressed close together, you can feel the heat radiating off of him, warming your skin and making you feel safe and protected in his arms. You take a moment to breathe in his scent, a mix of sweat, dirt, and something uniquely Joel, that you've come to associate with him and the comfort he brings. Your hands begin to wander over his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt. You can feel the rough texture of his calluses, evidence of the physical work he's done to survive in this new world, and it only adds to his appeal.

You trace your fingers over the lines of his abs, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. You move your hands up to his shoulders, feeling the strength in his arms, the way they encircle you, holding you close. Your fingers graze over the rough stubble on his jaw, feeling the way it scrapes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling the way they part slightly, welcoming you in. Your hands continue to explore his body, feeling the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the way his heartbeat quickens beneath your touch.

Joel responds to your kiss, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you closer to him. You can feel the hard length of his erection pressed against you, and it only serves to heighten your desire for him. Joel's hands wander your body, cupping your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. He teases your nipples, causing you to gasp with pleasure.

You break the kiss, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Joel," you moan, your voice full of need.

Joel's lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. "Yes, darlin'?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.

"I want you," you say, your voice low and seductive.

Joel's eyes darken with desire. "I want you too, darlin'," he says, his voice thick with need.

He lifts your shirt and bra over your head, tossing it aside as his lips find yours once more. He teases your nipples with his tongue, causing you to moan with pleasure.

You run your hands over his chest again, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. You tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Joel's hands wander down your body, cupping your ass and pulling you closer to him. You can feel the hard length of his erection pressing against you, causing you to moan with need. He trails his lips down your body, kissing and licking at your skin as he goes. He reaches your pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them down your legs. You help kick your pants aside, your body now bare before him. Joel's eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of you.

He stands up, removing his pants and boxers in one swift motion. You take in the sight of him, his body muscular, his erection long, thick, and hard. Joel crawls back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. He looks into your eyes, his own full of desire.

"You sure, darlin'?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

You nod, your eyes locked on his. "I want you, Joel. I need you."

Joel's eyes darken with desire as he looks into your eyes. "You've got me, darlin'," he says, his voice thick with need. Joel's eyes darken with desire as he positions himself at your entrance. He teases you with the tip of his erection, causing you to moan with need. Finally, he thrusts inside of you, filling you completely. You cry out with pleasure, your body adjusting to the massive intrusion.

Joel sets a slow, steady pace, his hips moving in a slow, circular motion. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of you, taking exactly what you need. You feel the tension building between you, the pleasure mounting higher and higher like a rollercoaster about to reach the very top of the track. Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his hips moving faster and faster.

As the tension continues to build, you can feel yourself getting closer to coming apart. Each thrust of his hips sends a wave of pleasure crashing through your body, leaving you breathless and trembling. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest as his hands roam your body, exploring every inch of your soft, supple skin.

"Oh god, Joel," you moan, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close. Please don't stop."

Joel's response is a low growl, his body tensing as he drives deeper into you. His thrusts become more erratic, his movements more urgent as he races towards his own climax. You can feel his cock swelling inside you, the veins standing out as he pumps his hips faster and faster.

"Fuck, m'gonna come," he gasps, his breath hot against your ear. "You ready for me, baby?"

You nod, your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear. "Please Joel, need your come deep inside me."

With a final, powerful thrust, Joel reaches his climax, his cock twitching as he empties himself deep inside you. You can feel the warmth of his seed spreading through your body, triggering your own release as you cry out his name. Your orgasm rolls through you in waves, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath. Joel collapses on top of you, his body slick with sweat.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as your bodies come down from the high. Joel reaches over into the pile of candy hearts and pulls out a new one. He looks at it for a moment, a smug smile spreading across his face.

"Think this one sums up tonight perfectly," he says, holding it out for you to read.

You take the candy from him and read the message aloud, "Heavenly Match."

Your heart flutters, and you can't help but smile. "Couldn't agree more cowboy," you say, leaning in to press a kiss to Joel's lips.

Joel grins, his eyes shining with affection and love. "Forever yours, darlin'," he says, his voice low and husky.

You smile back at him, feeling a sense of warmth and happiness that you've never felt before. "Forever yours," you say, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you bask in the afterglow of your love. As you lie there in each other's arms, basking in the warmth of your love, you realize that amidst the chaos of the world around you, you've found a sanctuary in each other. The abandoned building may be filled with shadows and uncertainty, but in this moment, there's nothing but the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the windows, casting a gentle light on your intertwined bodies.

With a contented sigh, you snuggle closer to Joel, feeling his steady heartbeat against your chest. In his embrace, you find solace, strength, and a sense of belonging that you never thought possible in this harsh new world.

As you drift off to sleep, the sweet melody of the guitar still echoing in your mind, you know that no matter what tomorrow may bring, you'll face it together, hand in hand, hearts intertwined, forever bound by the unbreakable bond of love.

[rosekasa]

(slumber) partycrasher

He’s finishing up on Rue de la République when he sees Ladybug on Alya’s balcony. His footsteps slow to a halt on the roof tile. It’s Sunday today, isn't it? Ladybug doesn't patrol on Sundays. Did something happen at Alya’s? He stops, reroutes, and heads over.

He gets closer, the lights bringing them further into focus. The two girls stand close together, huddled over Alya’s phone, murmuring quietly.

“Good evening, ladies,” he says as he lands.

The shriek that exits Ladybug echoes through the street.

He stands there, rigid, all the punny greetings he had planned effectively smacked out of his mouth. He has never heard Ladybug make that sound before. He didn't even know Ladybug was capable of making that sound. Even Alya seems taken aback, staring at her wide-eyed.

After five heavy seconds of silence, Ladybug comes back to life. “Um—!” she says. “Wow! Chat Noir! Hi! I wasn't expecting you to crash our slumber party!”

He blinks, still reeling from the scream. “...Slumber party?”

This time, it's Alya’s stupor that lifts. “Um— yep! Ladybug comes over every Sunday and we have a sleepover. Y’know, Ladyblogger-Ladybug bonding time.”

Huh. So that’s why she doesn't patrol on Sundays? He thought it was a civilian thing.

…She could've told him.

“Oh. Well.” He hopes his voice doesn't sound strained. “Don’t let me intrude.” He gives them both a smile, then leaps back onto the rooftops.

Neither of them say goodbye.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

He doesn't want to be petty, but why would Ladybug not tell him about the sleepovers? They’d agreed to keep superhero things completely transparent between each other. So is this not a superhero thing, then? Is Ladybug hanging out in costume with Alya Césaire more personal than hanging out with Chat Noir?

He huffs, eyes snapping over to the light on Alya’s balcony. He has a right to bring this up, surely. He's her partner.

Ladybug is alone, this time, but the glass door is open. She has a blanket over her shoulders, a fox-printed mug in her hand, the light of Alya’s phone illuminating her face, eyes glued to the screen.

Remembering her reaction from the last time, he steps onto the balcony a little gentler from behind her. “Hey—”

“They're making out on a fire escape.”

He chokes on his spit, grappling for purchase at the balcony door. “I— I’m sorry?”

Ladybug whips around, the blanket flying onto the floor. At least she doesn't scream again. But the look in her eye is somehow even more concerning.

Behind him, a toilet flushes, and padded footsteps draw near. “Did you get to the part where he books a hotel—” She cuts herself off with a gasp. “...Chat Noir. Hi.”

The three of them stand together silently, in their awkward vertical line, for what feels like a full minute.

This was such a stupid idea. What’s wrong with him, accosting his partner on her days off? It’s not his business how she spends that, nor who she spends it with. Unlike him, she’s not wasting all her time thinking about their partnership. Maybe he just needs to get a life.

“Sorry for crashing— again,” he quickly says. He takes a couple of steps back to the railing, turning to face both of them. “I— uh, thought there was an akuma down the road and wanted to tell you but, uh, looks like it's just a tree.” He laughs nervously, grabbing around for his baton. “I’ll be off, then.”

“Wait— are you sure—” Ladybug starts.

There’s sympathy in her eyes. His breath hitches.

“Yes!” he says. As he steps away from her again, his baton slips from his hand. “Sorry, I’ll just text next time.”

Alya pipes up from behind him. “Chat, you’re always welcome to stay—”

“No, seriously, I, like, am allergic to sleepovers. I break out into hives.”

Ladybug furrows her brow. “I don't think that's true.”

“My medical history is very complicated.” Finally retrieving his baton, he opens it and turns to the skyline. “Well, bye!”

Ladybug makes a small, aborted sound of protest. But then as she reaches to stop him, her grip on Alya’s phone slips.

She screams. Alya screams. Chat Noir wonders whether this is what they're practicing together every Sunday.

Still balanced on his baton, he grabs the phone midair, holding it up over the safety of the balcony.

Automatically, his eyes fall on the screen.

Ladybug moans as Chat Noir kisses down her neck. He lifts her onto the fire escape, pulling her legs around him, lifting his head to press a hot, wet, kiss to her���

Alya snatches the phone from his hand. “Thanks.”

Ladybug’s face is crimson, hands tight around her mug.

Chat Noir looks from Ladybug, to Alya, to the phone. Her screen is still on. He looks away before he catches any more words.

He clears his throat. “W-Well, I should, uh, get off, then. I mean—!” He holds up his hands. “Be off! This balcony! And back home! Um— you should read— I mean, um, use your phone indoors just in case. Bye!”

He never does get around to asking about their slumber parties.

[eoieopda]

the one with yoongi, netflix, and zero chill

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader Type: Drabble; Suggestive Fluff Word Count: 1.1k Content: fuck buddy!au; birthday boi Yoongs A/N: Nobody asked for this — I just wanted it, lmao. HAPPY (belated) YOONGI DAY ‼️

Of all the texts you might’ve expected to receive from Min Yoongi — of all people —this hadn’t been one of them. A far cry from the anticipated “cum over?” and follow-up “that was intentionally cringe but seriously, get here,” it was one word:

Hey.

Simple, unassuming, shockingly innocuous. A text like this from any other person wouldn’t have set off the shop-lifting alarm in your brain, but this one did. 

Until now, all of your other exchanges had been borderline — if not entirely — pornographic. Yoongi had received enough photos of you in compromising positions to fill a dossier; or the national archives, if your tits were properly classified as subjects of great cultural significance. He wasn’t the type to chat for the sake of it, certainly not without an ulterior motive bulging uncomfortably in too-tight jeans. 

What the fuck?

Unable to square this flagrantly conversational message with its sender, you’d replied to ask if he meant to send it to someone else. He hadn’t, he clarified. Then, doubling down on whatever fast-one he was pulling, he’d asked if you wanted to hang out. No suggestive emojis, no “*bang out, my bad” — just an invitation, sans subtext. 

It was too intriguing to ignore.

You parked in your usual spot on a side street and followed the same path you always did towards his apartment building. By now, there should’ve been shoe prints worn into the concrete from how frequently you’d passed overtop, but there weren’t. You were able to confirm as much because you were finally perceiving that sidewalk in sunlight. Even his building looked different when it wasn’t shrouded in darkness and questionable judgment.

After a quick trip up the stairs, you found yourself on familiar territory: a doormat that said “fuck off.” You snorted, staring down at it, and wondered if it knew how often you’d done the opposite.

You knocked and Yoongi answered; his usual smirk wasn’t present with him to greet you. Instead, he offered you what looked like a genuine smile and nodded his head for you to come inside. If your ears hadn’t deceived you, you might have heard him ask about your day, but they were too busy ringing as if a bomb had gone off nearby. Still shocked, your brain was left to stagger through the aftermath while you trailed off after him. 

At this point, on any other occasion, he would be charting a map of your body by now — before you could even cross the threshold. There’d be a mouth nipping at the underside of your jaw, too. In lieu of small talk, his tongue would be lavishing warmth upon the curve of your neck. This time, though, Yoongi kept his hands to himself — and when he led you further into his apartment, he didn’t make a beeline for his bedroom.

Once more, with feeling: what the fuck?

You’d never seen his living room before, not even in your fucked-out wobble towards the door when your nights with him were over. It was cozy, confusingly soft in comparison to the roughness you knew right down the hall. Plush couch, plusher throw blankets, and multiple bookshelves — all seemingly hand-crafted. To your surprise, they were all full of personal trinkets, and curated works of fiction and nonfiction alike.

It never crossed your mind that he had personal possessions, let alone hobbies. You were shocked to learn that your recurring dick appointment involved a full-fledged person with interests. You coughed, “You read?”

It wasn’t meant as an insult, but it sure as hell sounded like one. Immediately, you winced at your lack of tact.

Just add friendly conversation to the short list of things that mouth doesn’t do. 

When Yoongi blinked slowly back at you, all you could do was anticipate. What quip would he hit you with? What sarcastic remark would fly out of his mouth and how wet would it make you despite your embarrassment?

He chuckled, shrugged, and said, “Guess I do.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Yoongi’s face didn’t change at all, remaining as airy and unbothered as it was when you walked through the door. He unknowingly left you buffering where you stood, walked around the back of his couch, and dropped down onto the cushions.

You might’ve stood there all night, wondering what sort of wormhole you’d fallen into, but he glanced back over his shoulder at you. It wasn’t expectant, the way he eyed you. In fact, he seemed just as confused as you were.

“You good?” Yoongi asked, eyebrow slightly raised.

You opened your mouth to respond; nothing came out. Am I? Does anybody else smell burning toast? You closed it again without saying a word.

Resigned to this frighteningly domestic fever dream, you padded over to where he was — apparently — waiting and sunk down into the cushion next to him. Though you couldn’t explain why, you left a few centimeters of space in between your thigh and his. Grinding yourself down onto his naked lap was one thing, but this all felt so blatantly out-of-bounds.

Once you were settled into your spot, you watched with suspicious eyes as he turned on the television. He’d begun to scroll through Netflix’s newest additions before you’d bothered to blink.

Yoongi was in the middle of asking you what sort of movies you typically watched when you blurted out: 

“I don’t understand what’s happening here.”

He hit play on whatever choice he’d made and set the remote back down onto his coffee table. “What’s happening is Tazza because you said you’ve never seen it.” He responded easily, like none of this was wildly out of the ordinary. Then, he turned to smile at you again. “It’s a great movie. Probably my favorite, honestly.”

There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your brain, just the sound of sirens and flashing red lights. Is this what he meant when he asked you to hang out? Sitting on his couch, fully-clothed, watching a movie? His favorite movie? The one he knows you haven’t seen?

Maybe that was how normal friendships worked, but this friendship blew your back out on a bi-weekly basis. This friend routinely rearranged your guts, whispered depravity in your ear — and throughout all of that, he noted the distinctly non-sexual shit you mentioned in passing.

Things you didn’t even remember saying.

Using some sort of app on his phone, he dimmed the lights. As the opening scene blared from the screen ahead, he nestled himself down into the couch looking downright huggable. It wasn’t a word you’d ever have attributed to Min Yoongi until now, but there was no other way to process the weird urge you felt to nestle into him.

You didn’t, though. You stayed firmly planted within the bounds of your designated cushion, straight upright with perfect posture you’d never previously exhibited. Still, you were staring and you couldn’t quite help it.

Yoongi could sense it, it seemed. He pulled his gaze off the screen and set his sights on you. And he kept them there, inhaling quietly then exhaling a soft sigh. “It’s my birthday.”

If that was meant to be an explanation for summoning you, it only made matters more confusing. Stupefied, you peeped, “Oh? Happy — um — h-happy birthday?”

He looked shy, which was yet another word you’d never expected to associate with him. Even in the dark, you could see the way his cheeks flushed pink.

Yoongi swallowed, nudging your nearby thigh softly with his knuckles. “I didn’t want to spend it alone.”

[jaxteller87]

Sex Genie

After a long day at work, I lay in bed, watching Jax as he went through his nightly routine. He was taking a little longer than usual, which only delayed the surprise I had waiting for him beneath the sheets. I felt like a kid waiting to surprise one of their parents on their birthday, but they went into hiding a few minutes too early— and now it’s more like an anxiety-inducing waiting game. Finally, I heard gurgle his mouthwash and spit it into the sink. The door opened, and he turned off the bathroom light behind him. With a deep yawn, he walked to his side of the bed in his white cotton boxers; his usual swagger brought a smile to my face. I was practically glowing with excitement. My surprise was nothing immaculate, but I enjoyed catching him off guard and raising his eyebrows. For a man who drove a 2-wheeled deathtrap at 100 miles an hour every day of the year or a man who shoots at rival clubs while getting shot at by rival clubs— I’ll take any chance I have and use every tool at my disposal for stealing his breath on occasion. Oh, how I love my badass biker. When he pulled back the blanket and saw me naked, a grin reminiscent of what you’d see on a kid’s face when they got exactly what they wanted for their birthday.

“So, you see,” I started with a chuckle, “there’s something in the sex genie handbook, way in the back, in really tiny print. You know what, it’s quite possible that you missed this part— I mean, I almost did myself.”

“Is that right?” he smirked. “Care to elaborate on what it is that you read in that fine print, way in the back?”

“But of course,” I responded in my best British accent, which was mediocre at best— but he got the point. “The rule says that if the genie discovers the wishmaster naked in bed, they’re not permitted to enter unless they, too, are naked.”

“Is that right?” He playfully rolled his eyes, slipping off his boxers and climbing into bed with me.

“See,” I affirmed. “What did I tell ya— we’re both naked.” I made an invisible rainbow motion over my head and whispered, “It’s magic!”

“And right before my very eyes, too, and I still can’t explain how it happened.”

“Oh, but wait—” I teased, “There’s more.”

“There’s more?” Jax grunted, “I guess I need to reread the handbook. They’ve made so many changes since I’ve last read it.”

“Yep,” I chuckled as we got comfortable. “It says that if the lady wants, she can grant the genie a wish, too. There was a tiny bit of text that says, while rare, it is acceptable for the genie to get something that he wants. And I thought, after a hard day, the genie might want to consider taking advantage of that fine print and partake in some naked cuddles with his lady.”

“Well, and this is theoretical, of course,” he began.

“Of course, totally—”

“What if the genie was up for more than just naked cuddles? Maybe a little naked rodeo where— and I’m just brainstorming here— you sit on the bull and see if you can stay on for the full eight seconds.” 

I looked at him, trying not to laugh at his attempt at dirty talk. It was no use, I blurted a chuckle out of my mouth, and he was quick to follow. “You were doing good until the whole eight-second bit.” I was starting to laugh so hard by this point I was losing my breath.

“As soon as I said it, I was like, damn, Teller,” he tried to regain his composure.

“You’re lucky that I rode this bull before,” I said, getting on top of him. I felt him slide inside me, and I gently slipped down his pole like a firefighter. “I know this bull and this rider can go a hell of a lot longer than eight seconds.”

We started gyrating together, and it felt amazing. At first, our motions didn’t match, but it still felt so good. Then he slowed down, and our techniques started to align. 

“Do you like that baby?”

“Yeah, just like that,” he smiled as we started to move in rhythm. It wasn’t long before we were completely moving in sync.

“More, Papa,” I breathed heavily. I hunched down, biting his neck as hard as I could without inflicting any serious pain.

“Fuck yeah,” he moaned, tilting his head back and starting to push deeper and harder. He grabbed both my ass cheeks with his big strong hands and dominated me right there on the bed. “Do you want it hard or soft, baby?”

“Both,” I panted.

“There’s my naughty little angel,” he bit his lip as he looked up at me. How in the world did I end up so lucky, I thought as he pulled me down to kiss him.

Jax’s POV

I came out of the bathroom a little while later. This genie thing had started as an honest joke to make Amber laugh, but it really helped spice things up in the bedroom. If I was being perfectly honest, I was kind of into the whole thing. It was kinky, and I liked that side of Amber. My mind raced with ideas of what type of foreplay we could get into. Maybe I’d try something completely random and take her right now. As I walked back to the bed, I heard her whimper in her sleep like she was in pain. Then I noticed her foot twitching.

“Seizures... great,” I muttered. I hurried to the bathroom to grab her meds from the cabinet. She usually keeps them by the bedside table, but she has been doing good lately, and maybe she moved them. I dumped the proper dosage into my palm and nudged her awake. She slowly took them from my hand, and I gave her a glass of water.

“Thank you,” she said, still half-asleep, downing the meds.

“Babe, if we got too rough earlier, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”

“You didn’t cause this,” she said. I must have looked like a ghost or something because she had that look of pity in her eye. “You wish you did, though,” she quickly added, gently punching my forearm. Her strength was still pretty weak, but she was trying to make light of the situation.

“I would never wish to bring this upon you, darlin’. How could you ever say something like that?” At the moment, I didn’t get the joke and just thought she was being morbid. I’m the one who actually kills people in this relationship, but her sense of humor can get awfully dark sometimes.

“Nah, I mean you wish you fucked me so good that it sent me into a seizure,” she tapped on my forearm with her fist again, smiling through slowly ceasing the seizure. “Get it? It’s a seizure joke.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Amber,” he scoffed. “And a bad one, I might add. You would be the one to say some dark shit like that.”

“Yup. That’s why you love me,” she quipped back.

I bent down and kissed her lips. There’s always a part of me that thinks turning her into a human pretzel causes her legs and feet to hurt, which I did after she rode me. I pretty much fucked her into the mattress.

“Are you sure you’re okay, darlin’?”

“I think so. I don’t know what’s going on; I don’t have a fever, do I?” she asked.  

I put my hand on her forehead, and after a second or two, I shook my head no. “You feel fine to me, babe.”

“Will you lay with me?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said, getting back in bed. Once the meds fully kicked in, she snuggled right up to me, and I knew everything was fine.

“Better?” I asked, looking down at her.

She nodded. “Good as new. You don’t have to worry,” she said, kissing my chest. “If I thought having sex would cause my legs and feet to hurt, I would say no, we need just to cuddle tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Let me guess, it’s in the handbook,” I smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup,” she laughed, kissing my cheek.

“Oh, you said not to be nervous about telling you what I like in bed.”

I nodded. “That’s right. I did say something in that regard.”

“Remember when you joked the other day and said you’d find me a badass biker, but you’d fill his shoes until he showed up?” Amber teased.

“Yeah,” I nodded again. “I was thinking maybe Tig— or Bobby Elvis.”

“What!?” she shrieked. “Tig or Bobby?”

“Hap? I know Piney has some extra space up at the cabin— seeing as how you love nature and all.”

“Oh, ha-ha, you are funny,” Amber scoffed.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Besides, I was thinking maybe, I don’t know…Clay?”

That was the last name I expected to come out of her mouth. “Clay?”

“Fuck. I can’t even joke about that shit, Jax— that’s just wrong,” she slapped my chest and mocked gagging sounds.

“Would that make you like my step-step mom, or—” I started to joke.

“Shut the fuck up, Teller,” she pinched my lips shut with her fingers. “Anyway, like I was saying. You can stop looking for my badass biker. I think I’m just going to keep you.”

“Is that right?”

“That is right, Buster,” Amber shook her head and poked my chest. “That’s why I said it.”

“Oh, what am I going to do with you?” I laughed, kissing her face all over until she giggled like a schoolgirl.

“Oh, and for future reference— being called your naughty little angel does it for me, and so does naughty beauty too,” she blushed.

“I love you, my naughty little angel. So glad I get to call you mine.”

[jerzwriter]

A chat with Sienna...

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Characters: Tobias Carrick x Casey - eventually 😊, Sienna Trinh Rating: Teen Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, panic attacks, nightmares Words: 2,300 Series Summary: Can be found here. Chapter Summary: Tobias is there for his friend Casey when she's struggling months after the chemical attack. During a visit, he has the chance to talk to Casey's best friend. (This text fic is a lead into this chapter.) A/N: I decided to mesh the "With Warning" fics into the existing fics from the start of Tobias & Casey's relationship. The Fine Print would take place shortly after this fic, and the next installment of "With Warning" will be a conversation with Aurora after the events of The Fine Print.

With Warning Masterlist Tobias x Casey Masterlist || My Full Masterlist

There was nothing delicate about the knock on her bedroom door. Bold and a little too loud, some would say it wasn’t unlike the man knocking. Pushing her weighted blanket off with vexation, Casey left the comfort of her bed with a sigh. It was nice of him to stop by, but... She looked down at her ratty, old t-shirt that hadn’t been changed in two, maybe three days, and her pink flannel Snoopy pajama bottoms had been on just as long. Despite her sour mood, she almost smiled; she was about to make one hell of an impression.

Shuffling to the door in stockinged feet, she considered rescinding her invitation. But the aroma of shrimp Pad Thai was too seductive. He noticed she thought, she never told him her favorite Thai dish, but he must have been paying attention.

Tobias was about to knock again when he heard a gentle thud when Casey leaned against the door before opening.

“This is your last chance; you can make a run for it.”

Amused, he lifted the bags as if she could see them.

“But I’ve got food?”

“You could leave it at the door, I’d even Venmo you a tip... pretend you’re the delivery guy.”

“You know,” he snickered. “I have seen movies that start off like that...”

That did it. It might have been a tiny laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless, and Casey had been devoid of laughter for some time.

“I’ll bet you have,” she said, mindlessly running her fingers over the slide lock.

“All right, this is your last chance, kid! If you open the door, you get me and food; if not, I walk... but the food comes with me. What’s it gonna be?”

Casey cracked the door open and peered at her guest. “Don’t say you haven’t been warned," she kicked the door open, and Tobias eagerly entered.

While she had one of the biggest bedrooms in the tiny garden apartment, it was still rather small, and Tobias couldn’t figure out where to put the food.  

“You sure you don’t want to eat in the kitchen? I mean, there’s a table there,” he grinned.

Casey shot him a look as she pulled a flat sheet from her closet and spread it over a tiny spot on her bedroom floor.

“You’ve never had a picnic, Carrick?”

He sank to the floor and spread the food out like a smorgasbord and Casey sat sullenly before him. “It was nice of you to come,” she said, grabbing a steamed dumpling.

“It’s my pleasure,” he stated, his eyes catching hers. “Of course, I know you’re just using me for the food.”

Normally, that would have earned a sarcastic reply or at least a little chuckle, but today, she flatly retorted, “You’re on to me.”

They ate in relative silence, Tobias leaning his back against the wall and Casey cross-legged as they scooped down ku chai, tod mun pla, and som thum tua. She began to wonder if he had known her favorite dish after all; perhaps he just ordered the entire menu. Either way, she was content, and when they were both sufficiently stuffed, Tobias began to clean up, stopping Casey when she tried to help him.

“Clean-up duty is on me today, princess. You just relax. Do you want your ice cream now?"

"So, saving the ice cream for later," he chuckled.

After placing the leftovers in the fridge, he returned to Casey's room and found her sitting on the edge of her bed, picking at a ragged cuticle as she stared blankly ahead.

 “Would you like to talk?” He asked as he sat in an easy chair in the corner of the room.

“Not now,” she muttered.

“I brought my laptop; we could watch a movie if you like.”

She turned to him with a forced half-smile. “Maybe later.”

“All right,” he replied, pulling a book from his bag. “I told you, you don't have to say a word at all. But I'm here if you need me."

He flipped through the pages, and Casey, who hadn’t been showing interest in much, she suddenly wanted to know what Tobias was reading. He could feel the weight of her stare but pretended he didn't. She'd talk when she was ready, and when curiosity got the better of her, she asked. “What are you reading?”

Tobias held the book up for her to see. “Homeland Elegies.”

“Is it any good?”

“Not sure,” he shrugged. “I just started it. But it was on my buddy Barrack’s best books of 2020 list, so I’m confident I’ll like it.”

“Hmmm. You and Obama are on a first name basis now.”

“Well, duh,” he snorted.

“Maybe I can borrow when you’re done.”

“Do you want to read along with me now?” he asked.

“No,” she said, still no inflection in her voice. “Not now.”

Closing the book, he looked at her thoughtfully. “How much did you sleep last night?

“Sleep,” she chortled. “What’s that?”

He tilted his head, awaiting an answer.

“Three, four hours tops... it’s just hard... it’s... the nightmares.”

Tobias leaned forward, and Casey couldn’t miss the concern etched on his face. “The nightmares have started up again?”

“Just this week," she nodded. "Ever since I had another panic attack. Some of them make sense, like I’m back in that hospital room, alone, and the plastic sheeting starts to smother me... others are more abstract... like I’m in a dark room, and I hear these terrifying screams, but no matter what I do, I can’t find a light... I can’t find the person screaming, and I can’t make it stop. I wake up in sweat, and there’s no going back to sleep.”

“Have you told your therapist?”

She shook her head. “They started after our last session, but I’ll be sure to tell her this week.”

“Good,” he replied. “She’ll be able to help.”

“Tobias,” she said, her voice so soft and broken that it sounded more like a frightened little girl than the confident young woman she had become. “I just feel like... like I’m failing.”

“Failing?” He asked, brow furrowed. “How?”

“The attack was two months ago now; everyone's moving on, the world’s moving on... and I was doing better... you know I was... and look at me now. I'm a fucking mess. I feel like I’m right back where I started.”

“Casey. You experienced an extremely traumatic event, and two months is nothing. You’re doing great.”

“I thought I was. I was progressing, but the world is so damn dark again, and I feel like a failure.”

“Hey,” he moved closer and placed a hand on her knee. “Look at me. You are not a failure. Do you understand? Casey, progress isn’t a straight line, and setbacks are a normal part of recovery. Be gentle with yourself. I promise you, the sun will come out again; you won’t be in the darkness forever.”

“I want to believe that," she sniffled. "But right now... I can’t.”

“You don’t focus that far ahead. You just keep doing the work and get through the moment. I’ll believe for you until you can do it on your own because there is no doubt in my mind that you’ll get there.”

Casey took a deep breath and closed her eyes; when she opened them, she had the faintest of smiles on her lips.

“If I take a nap, would you stay?” She asked.

“Of course.”

“I’d like to shower first, though.”

“Yeah,” he chortled. “That might be a good idea.”

“Wow. Really?” she chided.

“Hey, tell me...” he teased. “When’s the last time you did?”

“Shut up,” she smirked, grabbing clean pajamas from her drawer. She stopped and ran her hands over the soft fleece, appearing to be deep in thought. “I really appreciate all you do for me, even when I can't show it. I hope you know that.”

“I do,” he smiled. “I'm happy to be here for you, Casey. Now go take that shower.”

“All right,” she grinned, and for the first time since he arrived, it was a genuine smile.

Once she was gone, he brought the leftovers to the kitchen. He could hear Casey and Sienna’s muttered voices at the end of the hall and picked up his pace to give them privacy, but as he returned to Casey’s room, Sienna turned away from the bathroom door, her cautious optimism morphing into absolute glee. Grabbing Tobias's arm, she pulled him toward Casey's room.

"You did it!" She beamed the moment the door closed behind them. "We've been trying to get her in the shower for days, and she wouldn’t budge. But you’re here less than an hour, and ... viola! I’m amazed!"

"Thanks,” he shrugged. "But I didn't do anything special. I just..."

A wave of the tiny but mighty woman's hand brought him to silence. "I know you're not the humble type, Tobias. So do me a favor and spare me the false modesty. Casey will be in there in ten minutes, tops, and I need your help here.”  

"Here?" He raised a brow. "In her bedroom?"

"Yes. I haven’t been able to get her to shower or change her bedding all week. You can help me with the bedding.”

“You sure that’s smart? I mean, you’re her best friend. I’m not sure she'd want me poking around her bed, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Sienna snickered. "I am her best friend, so I know where the toy drawer is. You don't have to worry about finding any under her bed."

"That's NOT what I meant!" he blurted, and Sienna took delight in his astonishment.

“I know,” she threw a comforter his way. “I'm teasing you.”

Tobias decided to focus on the task at hand, and they quickly changed the sheets and blankets. When Sienna fluffed Casey’s pillows, she stopped to watch Tobias tucking the bedding in so it was just right, and she felt her heart warming. 

“Tobias, can I be honest with you?"

"Of course."

"I was jealous of you right after the attack.”

“Of me? Why?”

“Because I’m Casey’s best friend, and she was rebuffing me and latching on to you.”

“But that wasn't anything against you. Casey was just dealing with... a lot, and it was easier to be around someone who was kind of an outsider like me. She was too afraid to let you down - it was nothing personal."

“I know that. That’s why I took a step back. Casey's well-being was all that mattered. She needed someone, and she had you. I want to thank you for everything you've done for her.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I’m happy to help. If anything, I want to thank you.”

“Me?” Sienna asked. “Why?”

Tobias returned to the chair, pausing momentarily to choose his words.

“When Casey and I became friends again, after the attack... most of her friends all but threatened me. Actually, some did threaten me. And I understand why... given our history, there was reason to question my motives. I’m not stupid. But not you... you always made me feel welcome, and I appreciate it.”

“I just try to focus on the bright side,” she shrugged. “I saw you the night of the attack; no one can fake that level of worry and concern. It was clear how much you cared for her. I chose to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I have been watching you... I’ve watched you like a freaking hawk... and if I had seen the slightest reason to doubt you, I would have swooped in like you were an injured squirrel I planned to devour for lunch!”

“You know... you’re starting to scare me.”

“Good!” Sienna smiled. “But you never gave me a reason to worry. You’ve been nothing but helpful and kind, and it means so much to me.”

“Well, thank you for saying that. I promise you, Sienna, I’d never take advantage of her. I’d never hurt again. You have my word.”

Sienna grabbed a pillow from Casey’s bed and held it close against her chest. “I believe you,” she smiled. “Do you love her, Tobias?”

The tender moment changed in an instant when Tobias jerked into an upright position, his eyes as wide as if that hawk was swooping down for him after all.

“What?” he gasped. “Love? No! No... it’s not like that... we’re friends! I told you I want to help her. I’m not trying to get her into bed or anything! You have to....”

“Relax,” Sienna interrupted. “I’m not accusing you of anything sordid. I’m asking you if you love her.”

Tobias shifted uncomfortably, and Sienna was devastated that she wouldn't be able to share these delightful details with Casey later. The great Dr. Carrick sputtering like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar... no, she'd save this story for her wedding toast instead.

“I care about Casey.. very much, but no, no... it’s not love...it’s not....”

“OK,” Sienna said matter-of-factly; her words attempted to put him out of his misery, but she couldn't wipe away that smirk.

“What?” he asked defensively.

“Oh, nothing,” she sang. “But you seem to forget what I told you... I have been watching Tobias. And I see everything.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded, but Sienna was already heading toward the door.

“Nothing. You’re free to join me in the living room until Casey’s done.”

Giving up on the conversation, Tobias picked up his book and got comfortable in the chair. “I’m good here... Varma’s inside, and... she scares me a little.”

“She scares everyone a little,” Sienna concurred. “You read, but I’m right down the hall if you need anything.”

“I appreciate it,” he nodded. “Oh, and Sienna, there is a ton of leftover Thai in the fridge. Feel free to have some.”

“That sounds great! I think I will.”  

“Oh, just one thing... don't eat the shrimp Pad Thai. That's Casey's favorite. I'd like her to have it when she's ready for a midnight snack."

"It is her favorite," Sienna said, her smile stretching ear to ear. "I wouldn't dream of touching it. And Tobias..." she said, slowly closing the door as she left.

"Yes?"

"Remember... I see everything."

If you're new to their story and want to read the next part as I fill in the gaps, you can read The Fine Print. Thanks so much for reading!

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[flyingwargle]

bokuto hasn't been home in a month because of a series of away games, but he finally gets the chance when the team's last match is in tokyo before a four-day break. he waves goodbye to his teammates as they board the bus that'll bring them back to osaka and turns to walk toward the nearest train station.

"keiji! i'm home!" bokuto shouts as he enters the apartment. a flurry of footsteps follows, and his boyfriend appears in the hallway.

"welcome back, kou." akaashi's still in his pajamas, bedhead unruly, tired eyes bright with love as he approaches to embrace him, lithe arms wrapping around his waist. "i thought you weren't going to be back until tonight?"

"we managed to finish the team meeting last night, so the others left this morning. you're still in your pjs!"

"not for long. i have to leave for a meeting soon."

bokuto pulls back to frown at him. "it's a weekend! are you overworking again?"

"i know, but my seniors want me to meet a mangaka that's visiting. he lives in ibaraki and doesn't come to tokyo often." akaashi gives him a reassuring smile. "it won't be for long, i promise."

they enter the bedroom - bokuto to put his bag down and change into sweats, akaashi to change from pajamas to business casual. they head into the living room, where bokuto immediately sees changes from the last time he was home. "i forgot you redecorated!"

the changes are subtle - akaashi's desk is closer to the window, the couch pushed further away from the brand new tv. another new addition are the low shelves along the wall, countless framed photos adorning the surface, manga volumes crowding the rows. all are udai's works.

bokuto kneels and pulls out the first volume of mateo attack, the protagonist drawn in his full splendor on the cover. "did you buy these?"

"no, the printing press gave them to me. these are the first editions, so there may be printing errors that make them unsuitable to sell. i offered to take them instead of recycling them." akaashi sips his coffee. "you haven't read mateo attack yet, have you?"

"i didn't have time," bokuto says sheepishly. he's been saying he would, ever since it began serialization. "but now i do! it's better than just sitting around while you're gone."

he places the first five volumes on the coffee table and settles on the couch with the first one, pulling the blanket over his lap, arranging the pillows behind him. when was the last time he read like this? contrary to popular belief, bokuto does read by listening to audiobooks, morning runs and long commutes accompanied by tales of fantastical worlds and thrilling plots. the team has a bi-monthly book club (since that's how long it takes for them to finish a book), where they alternate between fiction and nonfiction. only one manga series has been recommended so far, a tragic yaoi oneshot that ended in unrequited love. everyone called their significant others afterwards, bokuto included. atsumu just laughed at them, and then cried. hinata comforted him.

"should we cook tonight?" akaashi asks from the kitchen. "or should we go out?"

"let's go on a date! wasn't there this sushi restaurant nearby you wanted to try?"

"i'd like that. i can call later to put in a reservation. the quality is above standard, so we'll need to dress appropriately."

it sounds like a pointed comment, but bokuto brushes it off. he has all day to style his hair and put on something that isn't polyester. "what time will you be done?"

"no later than three. we can eat at six?"

"okay! i'll just read, maybe go for a walk and find lunch later. mya-saam opened his shop nearby, right?"

"two stops away, just outside of the station. i can text you directions."

"i know how to use google, keiji!"

his boyfriend chuckles. "he's usually here on the weekends. i'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

as he turns to finish cleaning, bokuto settles down and opens the first volume. in his youth, he followed quite a few manga series but never finished them. maybe this will be the one that he'll see through all the way.

the art is pretty cool. the story is also about an underdog player who strives to win nationals in volleyball, which makes it better. he flips through, following the panels, making sure to appreciate the details before he moves to the next page.

it isn't long before his eyes grow heavy, and he loses focus. he blames the strenuous routine that he had for the last month catching up to him. lowering the book over his face, he lowers his arms across his chest, closing his eyes.

silence washes over him. slippers slide over the hardwood floor. a presence approaches, quiet and affectionate. the blanket slides over his upper body. the barest chuckle tickles the air around him. "i'm heading out now."

there's a kiss on the book over his face. then, in a whisper, "i love you. see you soon."

his footsteps retreat. a few minutes later, the front door opens and closes. that's when bokuto lets his blush overwhelm him, pressing the book against his face, kicking the couch like an overexcited high school boy.

that's who he is, though. keiji isn't the most affectionate person in the world, limiting his touches and love declarations. instead, he shows it through his tone, how he gently scolds bokuto for skimping on nutrition or going too hard on weights. he shows it by diligently picking up his call, no matter the time of day, and asking if he's eaten. he shows it by watching his games, wearing his jersey, proudly telling everyone that he's bokuto koutarou's boyfriend.

and bokuto is damn lucky to have him. he closes the book to press his lips where keiji did, smiling to himself. he's looking forward to tonight.

--

inspiration: this fanart of bokuto reading meteo attack!

[the-blossica-fan]

Greetings!

Actors Au - the sliver haired trio, Vertin, Mercuria, Vert pulling pranks on other cast members. Who else would prank everyone else?

I can see Vertin and Vert coming up with funny shit and Mercuria just gets roped in.

Usually victims? - Windsong, Sonetto and Matilda. The only ones not a victims of at least one is TF, Kakania and Isolde (maybe the Hoffmans as well?) (Marcus as sell gets added because she baby and they feel bad attempting to prank her.

Them collectively giving Schnieder the pineapple pizza with the most deadpan stare until she starts counting and they start running.

Windsong is a common victim to their pranks on set but so knock it off when Vila tells them too.

Matilda receiving giant duck and baguette plushies in front of her trailer (she does love them regardless)

Druvis getting hit with the Onceler song and on one occassion Vertin and Vert rocking up to her in Lorax costumes.

Up to you any other pranks they may do!

Hello comrade!!

Oh Lord, the little pranksters...

Mercuria is one of the big ones who makes the Matilda pranks, she might even do them by herself. But on everyone else, she gets dragged along.

Vert plays a bunch of jokes on Lilya since she's allowed to drink alcohol in set. She grabs her bottle of vodka and pours in Vinegar before putting it back, recording every moment of it.

"ДЕРЬМО, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!" You can hear the pain in her voice as she spits out the whole gulp she just took, coughing and gagging while Vert laughs maniacally in the background.

Zima also gets them pranks, sadly. He finds one of the pages of his story to be just printings of the same word all over again, "GET STICK BUGGED IDIOT" and a drawing of a stick bug. He has found them in pages of the works he's about to put together multiple times, he's slowly becoming paranoid.

Is there truly a stick bug around?

The prank on Marcus could have been simple, they made the classic prank about the water bucket on the door, they were laughing until they saw soaked Marcus' pitiful eyes about to sob and they felt so bad they just stopped laughing and helped her dry.

Poor girl was so pathetic they had to stop and get her some blankets and candy. Due to that, they also stopped playing pranks on Greta.

Greta's pranks would be switching the sugar in her coffee for salt and watching her spit it out and feel so weirded out of confusing salt and sugar.

Adler's not escaping the pranks I'm sorry. They're simple but effective. He has incredible muscle memory so by just moving his cup of coffee two centimeters to the left while he's working had him bumping against it and the panic on his face as he freezes is majestic.

Jessica used to get the short end of the stick with the pranks as she's very innocent, they would switch her lettuce for leaves and she would be pretty confused eating that, or they would tell her something completely wrong and watch her spread it around.

They stopped once Blonney started chasing them with a chainsaw, she swears it's a prop but my Lord when you see a girl chasing after you at full speed with a chainsaw, you get traumas.

Madam Z also gets some pranks here and there. They keep stealing her candies and watch her walk around looking for them for 30 minutes before placing them back in their place. Or doodle a 🖕 on the bottom of her cup so everytime she takes a sip she flips off someone and has to watch their offended reaction.

Kaalaa Baunaa's telescope keeps getting obstructed by paper and she's one second away from committing hate crimes against humanity. She just wants to watch the stars and she sees a "Ma laif w/ot u" white text on a black paper. She's mad.

Diggers pranks consist of them grabbing his cigarettes, wetting them and putting them back, he doesn't understand why they no longer work.

I got this idea for Matilda that they just placed a fake fish covered in chocolate outside of her door, knocked on said door and then when she opened it and looked at the fish there's an audio that does "Le fishe au Chocolat"

Mesmer Jr prank, replace coffee with Monster and watch the disaster.

Arcana's prank consists of the entire crew having to ask for pink clothes, switch her entire wardrobe to hello kitty and pink clothes and watch her angrily make her way towards them while dressed in a Hello Kitty shirt and pink shorts.

Then there's Theophil whose pranks are made by Trista, the epic addition to the prankster trio, who makes mustaches on his every painting until he notices.

The reason why they don't make pranks on Isolde (and by addition, Klara) is because they once did, they grabbed isolde's Kakania plushie, placed it on top of the door so when Isolde walked in it would drop into a bucket of colored water (it wouldn't damage and if it did they would buy her a new one) but instead of panicking or being worried, Isolde stood there motionlessly for an hour before sobbing

She spent the entire day like this → 😞

The girls were not only weirded out but strangely guilty.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Stand there like a ghost Shaking come the rain She'll open up the door And say, "Are you insane?"

Say it's been a long six months And you were too afraid to tell her what you want

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl

And then you say "I want you for worse or for better I would wait for ever and ever Broke your heart, I'll put it back together I would wait for ever and ever"

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl And that's how it works That's how you get the girl

Remind her how it used to be With pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks Tell her how you must've lost your mind When you left her all alone and never told her why

And that's how it works That's how you lost the girl

And now you say "I want you for worse or for better I would wait for ever and ever Broke your heart, I'll put it back together I would wait for ever and ever"

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl And that's how it works That's how you get the girl

And you know That I don't want you to go

Remind me how it used to be Pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks And say you want me

And then you say "I want you for worse or for better I would wait for ever and ever Broke your heart, I'll put it back together I would wait for ever and ever

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl That's how it works

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl That's how it works!

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl Get the girl! That's how it works

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl And that's how it works That's how you get the girl

That's how it works That's how you got the girl

***

Imagine an AU where Yasmine doesn't dance around the point for 5 seasons and actually fucking TELLS Moon she's In Lesbians with her after Moon breaks up with Piper. Imagine Yasmine not being so cripplingly terrified of her own sexuality that she jumps into the world's most shallow mutual beard relationship to try and hide her feelings. Imagine Yasmine standing in the pouring February rain outside Moon's door, hands full of strawberry heart candy boxes, and bouquets bursting with hyacinth, flax, hydrangea and white rose, and even a whole fucking organic raspberry smoothie, however the hell she managed to fit that in there.

Imagine Yasmine spilling her heart out, saying she only ever lashed out at Moon at the Canyon party because she was gutted at the thought her best friend--the girl she allowed her to know her in ways most could never dream of--would pick some stupid-haired stranger over her. Imagine her eyes growing damp, and her thanking the powers that be that she was already dripping all over Moon's porch too much for her friend to notice a little extra moisture. Imagine Moon chastising her, gently but firmly. Telling her she's going to get sick if she stands out in the soaking wet cold for much longer.

And then Moon ushers her inside, dries her off with a fluffy paisley-print towel. Wraps her in blankets and sits her on the couch. Gets them blunts to numb out the pain of two broken hearts.

When Moon flicks her lighter, Yasmine's phone screen lights up too. A concerned text from her mom, fretting over her driving in the storm. Understandable--Yasmine doesn't have the best driving record on the clearest of days.

Moon notices Yasmine's lockscreen is a picture they took ages ago. Freshman year, a few weeks after they started getting adventurous in the back of the Range Rover. Squeezed together in a mall photo booth, Yasmine's lips squashed against Moon's cheek. Yasmine's eyes shut in sleepy happiness, her beam so big that her one visible dimple was widened into a little crater.

That kind of simple joy seemed so distant now. Something from a past life, long since torn apart by Yasmine's ego and cruelty and ruthless drive to make it to the top. Her terror of irreparably falling from grace if people knew who she really was. Who she truly loved.

But maybe she and Moon can have it back if Yasmine puts on her big girl panties and sucks it up. Grows some balls. (Or...lady balls. Whatever.) Admits she acted like a conceited bitch, and took the one person for granted who was prepared to follow her almost to the ends of the earth. Tell Moon that half a year without her interwoven into Yasmine's life as tightly as a French braid was the hardest half a year Yasmine's ever had.

Because that summer had chipped away at Yasmine like a blunted carving knife. It sliced off little pieces of her every time she wondered if Moon was happy she was gone, or what Stupid Blue Mohawk could give that Yasmine couldn't.

Because that fall had eaten at Yasmine with a dull, persistent ache. Moon held her at arm's length, insisting on "just friends" while she swapped kisses with Piper in the hallway. A distance that felt like thousands of miles when Yasmine had once been so close that she could feel soft, aloe-apricot-lotioned skin against hers and smell lilac, lily of the valley, and hazelwood musk wreathing around her.

And Yasmine is done missing out on the beautiful things in life because she's too busy living in fear of what others think.

"I want you," she says. "For better, for worse, whatever. Whatever the future brings, I want to face it with you. And if that means--if that means you need me to wait for you, I will. If you need a while before you can be with someone like that again, then I'll be there when you're ready. Because I love you, and I'm tired of worrying about people not accepting it. Because I don't fucking care anymore."

And maybe it's the blunt talking--or the sugar from all the candy their munchies made short work of--but it feels like the next second, Moon is kissing her a thousand times harder than she used to.

"And I don't give a fuck about my dad's wedding," Yasmine finds a way to squeeze out, long after their limbs (and mouths) are entangled on Moon's bed. "All that asshole ever does is give me shit about how I don't have a boyfriend, so he can suck it. I'm taking you to junior prom."

Moon brightens. "Really?"

"Uh, yeah. And I'm gonna rent us the best limo. And take you to the fanciest dinner. And get you a corsage that makes everyone else's look like they dug them out of the garbage."

Then Moon laughs and leans into her, and god, she missed this. "Well, then I look forward to it."

And just like that, Yasmine's future is a vast, majestic, and insurmountable thing, as bright and gleaming as the ocean on a sunny day. And as it washes over her, one salt-spray day at a time, it seems to bring one nice surprise after another.

There are dances to be had, pressed into each other in shimmering gowns and screaming when their favorite songs come on. There are quiet spots to be found, up on secluded hills with their arms circling one another's shoulders as they look over that ethereal blend of rolling city lights and faint stars. There are beaches to be walked, manicured hand in manicured hand.

And sure, maybe Yasmine will get a little bit disinherited along the way. Old-fashioned parents had a way of not understanding these kinds of things.

But it'll all be worth it if it ends with her getting the girl.

***

HIIIII YASMOON WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK FOR REAL THIS TIME

With...BRAND NEW CONTENT!!!

I realized I've been making these girls A Thing for the last 2 Valentine's, and I ain't about to break my streak now!!! Besides, I haven't posted YasMoon moodboards in like 5 million years. I was getting funky little lesbian collage withdrawal </3

Hilariously, I actually made this moodboard sometime like. Last spring??? And I remember being like "wow!!! This would be a really cute February/Valentine's Day post!!! Too bad I'm probably going to want to put it on the tumblr it way before then in an impulsive, YasMoon-moodboard-posting frenzy :(" BUT THEN!!! Miracle of miracles, I guess, and my life dissolved into such utter pandemonium in the next several months after I made this that I simply did not manage to post this bad boy before next Valentine's Day rolled around. So...all according to plan??? Mission accomplished???

And then. AND THEN. I STILL didn't manage to post it before midnight on the National Love Day itself ^^; Ahhhh uhhhhh just ignore that ^^;

Utterly unashamed of how pink and cutesy and fluffy this ended up being. That's just what hyperfemme lesbians are like on Valentine's, what can I say!!! Although looking at this thing always makes me hungry. God, I want those candy hearts and those smoothies so bad ;_____; I also would like a cute girlfriend to sit on a hill with and overlook the city lights and a cute girlfriend whose manicured hand I can hold on the beach, but that is neither here nor there. Also a much less immediate and important desire than those candy hearts. I'm going to hit up them discount candy deals anD FIND THOSE LITTLE CANDY HEARTS DAMMIT I NEED THEM

YASMOON TAG LIST MY BELOVEDS @multifandom-lesbian09 @karatecaulfield @themasterusersblog @ficusin @gemini-sensei @elisiassideb1tch ask and ye shall receive, welcome to the taglist and also a club of the coolest and sexiest people on planet earth 💗🧡🤍 YASMOON NATION RISE UPPP

As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request! If you're curious, the Yasmine and Moon pic I used here comes from some behind-the-scenes pictures of Hannah and Annalisa from Season 5 :3

[holmesillustrations]

Blog Info 🔎

Current Bracket: Just Dogs 🐶 (Starting soon) Just the illustrations with dogs in! Bracket - All Polls - R1 - R2 - R3 - Semifinal - Final

Misc. Polls

Illustration // Fanart (not polls, just sharing cool art)

Closed/Past events: Full 700 Illustration bracket - Info Post

General Info:

Image Catalogue: I'll mostly be running brackets using selections from the 700 illustrations included with first publications of each story or novel, this means the initial magazine printing in the uk and us (usually the Strand and Colliers, though other magazines get involved too especially in the later stories) plus the first novel edition if i could find it. I currently do not include reprints or translations, but it might be fun for a later bracket if people want them!

Poll Format: This will vary slightly depending on the bracket theme, but i'll typically have a partial caption next to the artist name and story abbreviation (STUD, SIGN, SCAN &c.) in the poll options, and in the text, i'll include the full captions, and a list of the characters or subjects present left to right. Image descriptions will be in the alt-text.

You can see the list of story abbreviations here if you're not familiar with them, and that site also has a lot of publication info/history if you're curious about that kind of thing!

Offensive Imagery and Language: For the smaller and more curated brackets coming up, these are less likely to show up at all, but I wanted to keep the blanket warning for this blog: These are drawings by white men in the 1890s-1920s, the vast majority are fine, but there is a handful that portray racist and classist imagery in line with what is present in the stories themselves. I can't consistently warn for these individually out of a list of 700 pieces, but i also dont want to pretend they arent part of this history or set myself up as an authority on which cross a line or not, so ive decided not to automatically exclude illustrations that might be offensive. Likewise, im not censoring any of the captions that are part of images, but will do my best to remove offensive terms where i'm typing out the captions.

[thesightstoshowyou]

Innate

- A Sight’s Original -

Warnings: Mentions of foot trauma, blood, hypnosis, mentions of violence. GN reader

(~ AN: I had a dream and now I may or may not have a new Slasher OC. Depends on if there’s any interest, I suppose! Thank you for reading ~)

~~

The muscles of your arm ache, the crook of your elbow overburdened by this semester’s required texts. You shift them slightly, winching when the corner of Human Anatomy, 7th Edition jabs the mystery bruise on your inner arm. Should have grabbed a basket.

Something nags at you, some detail pulling at the back of your mind, bordering on urgent (where did that bruise come from)—

You blink and check the print-out clutched in your palm. One last text: The Principles of Human Physiology. You scan the shelves, your mind strangely fuzzy. It’s difficult to focus; you stare at the correct book for a full minute before you realize what you’re doing.

You grunt when the heavy tome comes to rest atop the rest. Awkwardly, you lug the stack to the checkout, sighing in relief when you dump them onto the counter. You massage your aching arm.

The girl behind the counter pops her gum, the rapid beep, beep of the barcode scanner increasing the green price displayed on the screen. You grimace. This is robbery—

“Are you okay?” You startle, realizing the girl is speaking to you. Confused, you frown in response. She raises a hand, points to your face. Mirroring her, your fingertips press to your cheek and come away wet.

You’re crying.

“Oh…. I’m—I’m sorry…I dunno why….” Hastily, you wipe the tears away. She looks concerned, wary. Your face burns in embarrassment. What the hell is wrong with you?

“These prices, right?” the girl jokes in an effort to ease the tension and you force out a humorless laugh, nodding absently. You pay, hurriedly retrieve your bag, and depart without a backward glance.

Outside the university bookstore, the hallway buzzes with activity as students prepare for the upcoming semester. Nervous freshman trail behind parents hurrying to the next task. Student rush to and fro to sign up for classes, meet with advisors, purchase parking passes, retrieve student IDs. Coffee machines hiss at the nearby cafe, their rich scents blanketing the hallway and overpowering the antiseptic smell of freshly mopped floors.

You skirt the line awaiting caffeination, intent on the exit. One more little obstacle awaits: A group of people mingling outside a classroom. You’ll just ease yourself through the throng—

Green eyes meet yours. Fear—bone-numbing, abject horror—crashes over you like you’ve been plunged into an icy lake. Impending doom, imminent death, unbridled panic call to you from those eyes. The scariest part is not knowing why.

It…he…. It’s just some guy, someone you’ve never seen before. He’s tall, mostly generic looking despite the shock of red hair. Young-ish, maybe mid twenties. The face doesn’t ring a bell; you’ve never seen him…. Never?

Something twinges, the barest hint of a memory. It’s…it’s right there, if you could just access it….

Instinct tells you to flee. Your muscles stiffen, body poised to retreat. Then, he shakes his head.

Your breath seizes in your lungs. The action built up in your sinew ceases and you still, rooted to the spot. You can’t move!

He breaks from the crowd and slowly makes his way toward you. With every leisurely step he takes, trepidation grows. More tears well up in your eyes. Each breath is only a little gasp despite the heaving of your chest.

His hand closes around your upper arm and he spins you as he walks, half dragging you along with him. Your right foot lags behind, like it doesn’t want to cooperate. You would have crashed to the floor if not for his vise-like grip on your flesh.

You want to scream for help, to reach for the nearest person, but your muscles refuse to cooperate, like you can’t control them. You can only move your legs to keep up with his stride. He tows you to an empty classroom, guides you inside, and closes the door. The cacophony from the hallway immediately quiets, voices and activity now a muted memory.

You’re alone with him.

Tears spill freely down your face now. The bag of books falls to the floor with a heavy thud. You stagger away, your foot throbbing. Why does it hurt? And more importantly, why are you so afraid of this man?

He crosses to you, cages you in against the wall. ‘Get away, get out, get away!’ your mind screams and pleads with you to act, but you’re stuck as though your shoes are glued to the freshly mopped floors.

He raises a hand. You flinch, expecting a blow, but instead he snaps his fingers three times in quick succession.

The world fades away.

**

Your expression goes slack, your eyes glazing over. Your body calms, relaxes. You’re still, an empty doll awaiting instruction.

A triumphant smile spreads across his face. He could not have asked for better results. Not only did you spend all morning walking around on a broken foot without noticing, you also hadn’t recognized him.

Well, not fully anyway. Innate fear, it seems, cannot be removed from the psyche. However, the memories of why the fear had developed in the first place…. Those can be shaped and buried as much as his heart desires.

With two fingers, he pats your damp cheek. No response, not even a twitch. A glance down at your feet finds the toe of your shoe stained with red. As he watches, the spot spreads, scarlet seeping into the fabric of your footwear. You’re bleeding into your shoe.

It’s not surprising. The foot had been such a mangled mess when he’d forced it back into a shoe early this morning. He’d taken such great care to break every single bone, after all.

Best get you back to the workshop before you bleed all over the tile.

He leans back over you, bringing his face inches from yours. Quietly, he says your name. Your glassy eyes meet his, intent on his next words.

“You are not in pain. Nothing hurts. Isn’t that wonderful?” You nod, a little half smile tugging at your slack mouth. He continues, “It’s time to go. You will walk 10 paces behind me, carrying all your school books. When you get into my car, you will go to sleep. You will come back to semi-consciousness in three, two, one….”

You blink, eyes focusing. Standing up straight, your hands come up and wipe away the tears wetting your cheeks. With purpose, you retrieve the heavy bag of books and stand at attention, waiting. You don’t look at him.

It’s like you can’t even see him right next to you.

Suppressing his grin, he makes it way out of the classroom and toward the exit. Diligently, you follow ten steps behind.

Outside, a cool breeze ruffles his copper hair. Fresh air fills his lungs as he inhales deeply, contentment washing over him in gentle waves.

Curiously, he wonders how many holes he can put in your chest before your body reacts.

It’s going to be such a busy afternoon.

[blankticket]

Happy holidays!

For Vash, a set of new bedsheets and blankets. They're soft, high-quality, and come with a thick, heavy comforter in a deep shade of red. With that also comes a soft, handmade woolen sweater, also in red, that may be a little baggy—but Wolfwood wanted to be safe with the measurements. A long, dark blue scarf is tucked in with it.

A note comes with it:

I feel like you could be more comfortable. You deserve to be comfortable. It's getting cold. Stay warm. Wolfwood (the big one)

"Wuh. Whoa…"

Jeez, Vash hadn't been that nice this year, had he?

Even with his full strength, it's going to take Vash at least a couple of trips back and forth to get all this where it needs to be. Sticking his head out from the heavy wad of the duvet in his arms, he's already wondering just how he'll be able to pay Wolfwood back for this.

An old wave of nostalgia hits Vash when he finds the red sweater's sleeves bigger and baggier than expected. It makes him pause.

Busied with movement all the while, he hadn't properly absorbed the words printed on the note, or the sentiment; now, they're what makes him feel warm the most. He feels comfortable, cared for, loved. It puts the thin blanket in that cold room to shame.

-

[text]: Thank you, Big Wolfwood!

[lolly-in-a-strange-land]

Angel Cake

Please enjoy this one shot I did. If people like it, then I might make a part two. Normally, I don't write one shots, but an anon asked if I could do some head cannons for Dave Mustaine and unfortunately I'm bad at those, but please enjoy this. Also this is modern 80s Metallica so phones and texting are a thing.

It was raining as we stood under an awning. Rhia huffed out a stream of cigarette smoke. I wrapped my arms around myself, in a bid to make myself smaller and to avoid the sudden chill that night. Rhia had begged me to come out with her tonight, a girl’s night out she called it. She noticed me fiddling with the cuffs of my cardigan and stepped closer, bringing the scent of tobacco and Marc Jacobs closer to me. 

“What’s wrong, angel cake?” Rhia grinned

She was always full of silly nicknames and had been since we were children. She leaned her head on top of mine and smiled, giddily. 

“Oh, you know, crippling nerves.” I laughed. 

“I get it,” She said, and I knew she did. “I owe you so much for coming with me tonight.”

“I don’t mind, honestly.” I insisted. 

Normally my Saturdays consisted of curling up under the safety of my blanket, reading a romance novel and maybe watching a show. Rhia took another drag of her cigarette and blew out the smoke. She was still leaning on me, quite comfortable. We used to be the same height until she had a growth spurt at 15. 

She ground the cigarette out and took my hand, walking me across the street to the bar she liked to frequent. A line of people were already waiting and we joined the queue. This bar, Hideout, was known for slightly heavier music than I was used to. 

“How many bands are we seeing tonight?” I asked. 

Rhia was leaning, surveying the crowd for cute guys. She stood up straight and smiled. Her black hair was still slightly damp from the rain, moisture clinging to the strands. 

“3, I think,” She said. “One’s called CoffinFucker, something like that."

“Wow, what a name.” I giggled. 

“I know, right,” She said, laughing too. “The third I’ve never heard of and the main one is Metallica.”

Rhia loved underground bands. She liked seeing them before they blew up, although she still enjoyed going to the Taylor Swift concert with me. I wriggled nervously. 

“D-do I look ok?” I asked her, and she smiled gently at me. 

“You always look cute.” She replied. 

“I feel like I should have dressed a little differently tonight.” I said. 

“Nah, you look cute.” She said. 

I glanced at the line of people in front of us. They were all wearing dark colors and I glanced at my blue dress. The cheerful cherry print felt a little out of place. The line moved forward and Rhia grasped my hand, giggling with joy. I followed her, trying to ignore my anxiety, hoping it would disappear. 

I got carded as we entered and this made Rhia laugh. We made our way into the cramped bar. Posters hung on the walls, advertising various bands. The carpet felt sticky under my sneakers. A guy nearly fell into me and Rhia pulled me along. I kept a tight hold on her arm. 

It felt like the walls were closing in. It was so busy and I felt the breath squeezing in my chest. We got to the bar and I glanced at the stage opposite us. People were setting up and I watched, slightly interested. Rhia tapped me, bringing me back to the present. 

“What did you want to drink?” She asked. 

“Oh, I’ll have a Pepsi, if they have it.” I replied. 

Rhia turned and gave our order to the bar staff. She passed me my Pepsi and we moved a little further from the bar. 

“Ugh, Brianna’s over there.” Rhia hissed. 

I followed her gaze to see the other girl across the way. Brianna was dressed to the nines. I stood a little closer to Rhia, trying to make sure my ex-best friend didn’t see me. It was difficult to avoid her when we went to the same college and had attended the same high school.I risked a peek and noticed that Brianna had seen me. She was whispering something to her friend, pointing at me and giggling. 

I turned back and tried to ignore the prickle of nerves on my skin. I wrapped my cardigan around myself even more and looked at the scuffed carpet. I was suddenly very aware of my own skin and how I looked in my dress. Whereas Rhia had grown to a statuesque 5’9, I’d stopped growing once I hit 5’0. I was curvy, but absolutely hated it. I felt like I was chubby and still carrying puppy fat from my youth. 

“Hey, look at me.” Rhia said, and I raised my head. 

“You look amazing. Don’t let anyone take that from you.” She insisted. 

I toyed with a strand of my mousey hair. I tried to smile and not show that I was panicking. I pressed my thighs together but it made me feel even rounder. We didn’t have to wait long for the first band to arrive on stage. 

CoffinFucker were loud and abrasive. I watched from next to Rhia as their lead singer screeched, or as Rhia called it, death growls. I glanced around nervously. Should I be enjoying this? I clapped when their songs ended whilst Rhia whooped and cheered. 

The next band appeared after them and Rhia declared them as boring, leading me outside for a smoke. We walked past Brianna and I heard her laugh.

“Did you see what the whale is wearing?” She giggled.

I ignored her, focusing on Rhia’s hand in mine as we went outside. I floated next to Rhia, staring around me. I was still nursing my Pepsi, wanting to go home and curl into a ball. We went back in for the remainder of the second band’s set. 

Once they were done, we waited for the final band. Rhia started walking towards the crowd near the stage. She stopped and looked at me. Her gaze was determined. I knew she wanted to get closer to the band. 

“Go, have fun.” I smiled. 

“You should come too. It’ll be fun.” She pouted. 

“I dunno.” I murmured. 

“Please, just a smidge closer.” She said.

“Sure, ok.” I relented. 

I followed her into the crowd of people. We were shoulder to shoulder, like sardines. Rhia moved me so I was in front of her. The sea of people around me, chatted and laughed. A guy appeared on the stage, tapping the microphone a few times. His presence prompted a slight hush in conversation. 

“You fuckers ready to get wild? He screamed into the mic. 

The crowd closed in, roaring with delight. Rhia joined in too and I managed a nervous smile. 

“Get even fuckin’ louder for Metallica.” The guy yelled, and the crowd got even louder. 

The stage lights dropped and I could see movement on the stage. The lights came up and I could finally see. The guy in front of the mic now was tall. His hair was a very fair blond, long. He started playing and the loudness of it made me tremble a little. 

I looked to the left of the stage and noticed another guy, long brown hair, slight mustache, kind of lanky. His guitar looked a little different, must be a bass guitar. I couldn’t see the drummer very well. He was hidden by his kit, but his hair was brown. 

My eyes flicked to the other side of the stage and I noticed the other guitarist. My eyes widened a little. He was tall too, flame red hair grazing his shoulders. I focused on him, watching him. He was shirtless, eyes focused on the guitar. I glanced back at Rhia as she danced along to the music. 

It was loud and aggressive. Metallica were definitely not something I was used to. I attempted to sway along to the abrasive music. My eyes went back to the stage, following the band as they moved across the stage. My eyes kept going back to the red haired guitarist. His eyes shot up suddenly to look at the crowd. 

I watched as he kept playing the guitar, eyes flitting across the crowd, smirking. His gaze passed over Rhia and I thought he might continue looking across the crowd, but his eyes landed on me. I blinked a few times, unable to believe I was making eye contact with such an attractive man. His smirk grew when he noticed me. 

He moved his hand along the neck of the guitar and I realized that he was mimicking something very rude. My entire face went red and I could feel the heat as it went to my ears. His expression was coy. I took a shaky breath, glancing behind me, looking for the girl he was looking at because it couldn’t be me. 

I could see Rhia behind me, but to the right of where I was. Behind her were a bunch of scary looking men, wearing all black, headbanging along to the music. I turned back to the stage and found he was still watching me, gaze smug. He still couldn’t be looking at me, no way. 

Their first song ended and I decided to test to see if he was watching me. He was still watching me, smirk still in place. They started a second song and I pointed to myself. His gaze became amused and he nodded. No way, this couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be looking at me. I tore my eyes away from him, feeling self-conscious. 

The crowd grew louder and people started pushing each other. Rhia had called it moshing. I moved back as much as I could to avoid someone falling onto me. I glanced around, looking for Rhia. She was further back than I would have liked. My attention was on her and I stumbled when a guy came barrelling into me. A cry left my lips, absorbed by the noise. 

I went to the ground and fear lanced through me. It all happened so quickly. The music stopped and I could hear someone asking for people to clear some space. Hands helped me up and I realized it was one of the staff. My cheeks were red and I didn’t dare look at the stage. Rhia appeared,helping me to a bar stool. 

“My God, I’m so sorry,” She said, quickly. “Are you ok, angel cake?”

“Y-yeah, just a bit scared.” I replied. 

I glanced back at the stage and watched from there as Metallica continued their set. Rhia stayed near me, protecting me. Humiliation lanced through me. The guy on stage must have seen that and he must have realized I was a loser. Their set ended and Rhia excused herself to go for a cigarette. I stayed on the bar stool, still feeling bruised and ashamed. 

One of the staff announced that a DJ would be on soon to play songs till the early hours. I glanced around the bar and sighed. I hoped Rhia would be back soon. I noticed some of the bands were still hanging around. Someone cleared their throat and I glanced round. 

He was here. The guy from Metallica. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. Had he come to laugh at how I’d fallen over?

“Hope yer ok after yer fall.” He said, voice deep, but melodic. 

“I…um…yeah. S-sorry I interrupted your set.” I said, and he smirked. 

“So, has yer friend left you alone again?” He asked. 

“She went for a cigarette,” I replied, toying with my sleeves. “She must have got talking to someone.”

Knowing Rhia, she’d found a guy to speak to. I glanced back to the guitarist. He was sitting next to me, leaning on his hand, observing me. Up close, I could see his eyes were a striking honey color. His jawline was angular and my eyes went to his lips, full and still wearing a playful smirk. Was he making fun of me?

“So, you don’t look like the sort of girl that goes to dive bars.” He said. 

“I don’t. Not very often, only when Rhia asks me to.” I replied. 

“Do you live around here?” He asked. 

“I live a couple of blocks away, or rather that’s where my dorm is.” I smiled. 

“A college girl. Very classy.” He said, leaning a little closer, making my face burn. 

“Y-yeah, I guess. D-do you go to college?” I asked, and he looked amused. 

“Do I look like the sorta guy that goes to college?” He chuckled. 

“I….um…”I said, and he noticed the panic hedging into my voice. 

“Kiddin’ babe, no I didn’t go to college. I was just teasin’ you.” He said. 

“O-oh ok,” I let slip a giggle and he quirked a brow, clearly liking my laugh, which was a first for me. “Y-you played really good.”

“Glad the cutest girl in the room liked seein’ me play,” He said, and I felt the heat rush to my cheeks again. No, he couldn’t be flirting with me. “Even if she did fall over half way through.”

“Cutest? I dunno about that. There’s a lot of other girls here.” I insisted, he frowned. 

“Yeah, I guess, but none of them look like you.” He said, and I smiled, toying with my sleeves again. 

“I guess. I don’t really fit in here. Are you making fun of me?” I asked, and he frowned again.

I watched as his expression shifted back to that arrogant playfulness that suited him so well. Would he admit it?

“Not makin’ fun of you, college girl.” He said. 

“Well, you can’t be flirting with me.” I insisted.

“Can’t I? Wow, you really are smarter than me.” He said, easy smirk reappearing. 

“O-oh.” I blurted out, clearly feeling very articulate. 

“Now that I’ve sufficiently shocked you, can I buy you a drink?” He asked.

“I don’t wanna be a bother.” I said, softly. 

“Nah, come on college girl, tell me what yer drinkin.’” He smiled. 

“Pepsi.” I murmured. 

I watched him flag down the bar staff and order a Pepsi for me and a beer for himself. He paid and I watched his hands. His fingers were long and slender. He passed me the Pepsi and I covertly watched him drink his beer. I liked the way his head went back a little, revealing his adam’s apple. He lowered the beer, eyes zeroing in on me again. He’d very clearly caught me watching him and I blushed. 

“Yer friend’s takin’ a while.” He said. 

“I might have to go home if she doesn’t come back,” I replied, sadly. “She sometimes does this.”

“Ditches ya for a guy.” He said. 

“Yeah, but I don’t mind.” I insisted, and he took another swig of his beer. 

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got me for company.” He replied. 

“T-thank you for sitting with me,” I said, taking a sip of my Pepsi. “I feel really rude, but what’s your name?”

“I was tryin’ to stay mysterious,” He said, and I giggled again. “Name’s Dave.”

I told him my name and he held out his hand. We shook hands and I could feel the calluses on his hand. His hand enveloped mine, dwarfing it. I could feel the sweat building on my hand and I held on for a fraction of a second too long. He noticed and I pulled back, panicking a little. 

I was about to say something when one of his band mates walked over. It was the guy with long, blond hair. 

“Found ya at last, dude,” He said. “Tryin’ to get laid tonight?”

“Fuck off, Hetfield. Yer crampin’ my style.” Dave said. 

Blond guy laughed and disappeared into the crowd. I watched him go. Was that it? Did Dave just want to sleep with me? I glanced at my hands, feeling disappointed. 

“Hey, college girl, don’t look so sad,” Dave said, and he leaned closer, nudging me with his elbow. “I’m not just talkin’ with you in an attempt to get my dick wet.”

“I-it’s ok if you are, but I’m not really that sort of girl. Maybe you should find a prettier girl.” I said, picking a hangnail on my thumb. 

“I feel like I’m talkin’ to the cutest girl here,” He grinned when I looked at him. “Anything else would be a pale imitation.”

“You’re so silly.” I giggled again. 

A loud group of guys moved next to us. Dave glanced at them, annoyance flickered through his amber eyes for a nanosecond, then he looked back at me. 

“We could go somewhere quieter.” He suggested. 

“Y-yeah ok.” I said. 

I watched him stand up. He made getting off a bar stool look easy. I shifted forward, shimmying off the stool, careful not to stumble again. He noticed and he held my hand, helping me down. Once we were both standing, I glanced up at him. He was tall, definitely just over 6’0 and I averted my eyes when he smirked again. 

I followed him through the bar to an area with couches. The couches looked beat up and worn, like they’d been here for decades and had all manner of stuff split on them. I sat down first and Dave sat next to me. He was closer now, arm going over the back of the couch so his hand could graze my shoulder. 

“S-sorry if I was a bit mean earlier,” I said, remembering how I accused him of making fun of me. “I have autism so sometimes I can’t tell if people are being sincere.”

“Hey, it’s ok.” His hand moved closer and he teased his thumb over my shoulder. 

The touch seared me through my cardigan and I grasped the edge of my dress, pulling it down over my knees. I lifted my head to find he was watching me, honey eyes staring into my soul. I wondered how it would feel to kiss him. He seemed to sense what I was thinking and his gaze went to my lips, then flicked back to my face. 

My phone beeped and I dug it out of my bag. Rhia had texted me. She’d found a guy and was going home with him. She apologized profusely. I felt a little disappointed. 

“She ditch ya?” Dave asked, and I glanced round to see he was reading the text over my shoulder. 

“Yeah, guess I should uber home.” I said. 

“Or I could walk ya home,” He replied, and I looked at him, smiling a little. “Lots of creeps out there, college girl.”

“You mean like you.” I giggled. 

“Now that was mean.” He said, and laughed. 

I was happy I hadn’t upset him with my attempt at humor. We left and walked side by side down the street. All the while, I was aware I was bringing a guy back to my dorm. When I unlocked the door, my roommates were still up and having a party. 

“Look who’s back.” Shannon screeched. 

“And she brought a guy home.” Kelly giggled. 

I hastily went to my room with Dave still following me. Once we were inside, I shut the door and sighed. 

“Sorry about them.” I said. 

“It’s fine.” He said, sitting on my bed. 

I glanced around my very girly room, suddenly feeling warm. Dave looked at me and seemed to notice I was keeping my distance.

“I don’t have cooties, ya know.” He said, and I looked at the carpet. 

“I-i know.” I replied. 

“So, come give me some sugar, Sugar.” He grinned, and I giggled at that. 

“You’re so corny.” I said. 

I laid down next to him on the bed and felt my heart rate pick up when he wrapped his arm around me. His other hand came to rest on my hip and I felt my skin prickle with warmth. 

“S-sorry if bringing you back here was misleading,” I said, and he made me jump when he leaned his forehead against mine. “Y-you can go if you want.”

“Still think I’m just here to fuck you.” He said, gently. 

“Rude,” I giggled, and he smirked. “I just didn’t want to waste your time.”

“This isn’t a waste of my time.” He said. 

“O-ok, just dealing with some crippling anxiety,” I said, then giggled when he tickled my side. “Hey Dave, what do you do, like outside of music?”

“Teach guitar mostly.” He replied. 

“That’s really cute. C-could you teach me?” I asked. 

“I could, but it would cost ya.” He replied. 

“Well, obviously I’ll pay.” I said, smiling. 

“Not with money,” He said, looking at me again, then his gaze went to my lips. “I’d only accept payment from you in the form of a kiss.”

I blanched at that and he watched me, gaze gentle as I pondered this. I looked at him to find he was observing me again, eyes honey dark and coy. He really wanted to kiss me? I swallowed and nodded, gently. 

He leaned a little, pressing his lips to mine. The hand on my hip lifted to my face, cradling me. His thumb brushed my cheek, creating little shivers along my cheek. His lips parted and I copied him. I jumped back a little when his tongue slid into my mouth. He pulled back a little, watching me again. 

“S-sorry, I freaked out.” I said, frightened he’d leave. 

“It’s ok, babe. Relax, I’ll be gentle with you.” He murmured. 

I nodded again and he moved back in, reconnecting our lips. My lips parted and his tongue found mine. I tentatively responded to the kiss. Once he felt me respond, he deepened the kiss and my head spun. I lifted my hand, not sure where to put it. 

Dave pulled back, grasping my hand, draping it over his shoulder, then returning to kissing me again. I whimpered into the kiss when he nibbled my lower lip. I pulled back first, needing to breathe. 

“T-that felt nice.” I said. 

“Maybe once I’ve taken you on a date, we could spend more time practisin.’” He said. 

“I-i think I’d like that.” I said. 

I nestled closer to him and closed my eyes. Being this close, I could smell the musk of his cologne and the scent of sweat on his skin. I must have slipped off to sleep at some point. I woke up and looked around to find the bed empty. He’d left and I felt a well of disappointment build up in me. Obviously he’d find someone better than me. 

I picked up my phone and checked the time. It was half ten. I’d slept for ages. I set my phone on my bedside table and my finger brushed something on the table. I glanced down and saw a piece of paper. I picked it up and opened it. My anxiety was replaced by warmth and joy. 

‘Morning babe. Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. Had to go to my sisters to babysit. My number’s at the bottom of the note. Text me so we can sort out that date. Fucking sucked to leave you this morning, Dave’

I entered his number into my phone and typed out a text. He probably wouldn’t respond straight away, if at all, but a few minutes later my phone beeped and I checked it. I smiled at the fact he’d responded.  Last night was made all the better for meeting him. 

[anechomirrored]

So this is a snippet I wrote for my Undertale Apartment AU about 2 years ago.

It is not my best but I thought I'd share it since it does take place on Christmas.

Hope you are all having a good day!

Christmas mornings always felt special. No matter how late the night's activities lasted, Y/N always found themself wide awake well before anyone else. They spent the first hour of the morning texting everyone back home a Merry Christmas. This was their first year away from home but it didn't stop Y/N from celebrating with their family in some way.

Maybe later they could have a vidoe call.

As they lay curled up in their nest of blankets, Y/N sleepily basked in the gentle glow of the colourful holiday lights. They had put these up with Blue on the day he had asked about sharing Gyftmas with them.

The idea had grown quite a bit since then. Now half the 7th floor was involved. Y/N decided they should probably make their rounds in a few hours. Let Sans and the other die hard sleep-til-nooners have a bit more rest before popping in with gifts.

An excited knock on the door brought Y/N out of their musings.

Padding over to the door they quietly squeeked it open to find a starry eyed Blue on the other side.

"Merry Gyftmas, Blue!" They said quietly sleep making their voice pitchy.

"MERRY- Merry Gyftmas, Y/N!" He answered, struggling to keep his voice quiet.

Y/n leaned forward to wrap him up in a hug, nuzzling into the shoulder of his new Gyftmas pajamas. The fabric was very soft and had a few familiar comicbook heroes printed on it.

"Mmm, even your hugs are more super when you wear these!" Y/N pulled away in time to see the light blue dusting of a blush.

"Yours Look Really Nice Too ." He chirped.

Y/N checked the time. It was only 7:00am.

"You wanna come in and have a hot chocolate while we wait for the others to get up?" With a nod Blue entered the apartment the lights were still off so that only the decorations lit the living room and kitchen in gentle Blues, greens,reds and yellows that reflected off the silver and gold of the tensil on the tree and around the windows.

Y/N turned on the kettle and pulled two mugs from the cupboards.

"Marshmallows?"

"OF COURSE!" His voice made Y/N jump before letting out a small chuckle.

They could always count on Blue's enthusiasm to keep a holiday feeling special.

The energetic skeleton was currently kneeling by the tree sifting through all the presents underneath.

"YOU BOUGHT THINGS FOR RED AND EDGE?" Blue asked holding up a black glittery present with red and gold ribbons.

His voice was back to full volume but with the door shut is wasn't something to worry about.

"Well, yeah." Y/N finished stirring the hot drinks and came to join him. "I thought I'd bring those down to them later today. I know they didn't want to come to the party but I still wanted to get them something." They watched Blue consider the presents before returning Red's gift to the pile and joining his favorite human on the couch.

He accepted his hot chocolate with thanks and the two of them sat together for a long while sipping their drinks. Blue leaned back into the couch, his skull eventually coming to rest against Y/N's shoulder.

"I'm Glad You Are Here, Y/N." He toyed with the sleeve of his pajama shirt thoughtfully.

Putting their free arm around his shoulders Y/N held him a bit closer.

"Me too, Blue."

Another enthusiastic knock sounded at the door.

"That's probably Papyrus." Y/N said looking at the time. "He's probably here to start breakfast." Sitting down their mug they made to stand only to have Blue pull them back down into the cushions. Curious, Y/N turned to look, just in time for Blue to lean forward and press his teeth to their lips.

They froze, before melting into his affections. They were still getting used to all this.

The kiss was chaste and surprisingly soft. Y/N's hands came up to rest on Blue's shoulders before trailing down his arms.

When pulled away his eyelight were soft , almost fuzzy. Y/N offered a shy but happy smile, their face warmed with a crimson blush. Y/N cupped the side of his face and ran a thumb gently over his own deepening blush. They whispered his name and Blue's soul stuttered.

Another knock sounded at the door breaking the spell.

With shy smile, Y/N tried to cover up their flustered expression and stood up.

They needed to answer that.

Before making for the door, Y/N leaned forward and kissed the top of his skull.

" Merry Gyftmas, Blue."

[knayv]

𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕 𝖕𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖉. independent arlecchino of genshin impact. headcanon-dependent until canon proves otherwise. minors dni. #𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐘𝐕.

BLOGROLL: @baishouqijia ✦ @capitaneus ✦ @kohlapsar

I. no homophobia, transphobia, racism, sexism, harassment etc. i do not reblog callouts unless the individual is genuinely harmful (i.e. behaviour related to those listed), rather than being called out for personal grievances. you are welcome to block the tag 'callout /' for this purpose.

II. i do not interact with minors. if you are a minor, i ask that you do not interact with me or this blog. i cannot guarantee that this blog will remain sfw, therefore this is a blanket rule.

III. arlecchino is a villain, and i don't intend to shy away/soften her up, so dark topics may be present. that said, i do not write incest, nsfw involving minors or sexual violence - i'm okay with these topics being included in a character's backstory but will not be writing these explicitly.

i do write nsfw headcanons/nsfw themes in my threads. this may include sexual content and explicit gore / violence, with my rp partner's consent.

as an aside, i appreciate that a lot of people enjoy the villain/victim dynamic but please don't reach out to write with me if you're only focused on tragedy/victim plot for your muse. it's very one-sided for development, and i get very little enjoyment from writing it. i want to explore arlecchino as her own person, and not as a plot device.

IV. please specify muse before interacting with me if you are a multi-muse. i'm very original character friendly, so long as there's a viable way for arle to interact with your muse.

V. please check out headcanon tags before interacting! arlecchino has little canon information so will be reliant on these. some are supported by canon lore, some of these will just be based on pure vibes alone.

my arlecchino uses she / he / they pronouns and i use them interchangeably.

VI. this blog will be low activity. i work full time in a demanding job, so please don't interact with me if you need fast replies to maintain a muse. i am quite responsive ooc, but when it comes to writing, you will just have to take my word for it that i am worth the wait ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ

VII. shipping is very cool and i am open to it! i ship with both genshin and non-genshin muses, and occasionally ocs. i prefer headcanoning more than actual writing due to my writing speed, but i am still interested! i prefer shipping with chemistry rather than what's considered canon, and i'm generally singleship but this is not a hard rule. i’m also poly friendly.

ship bias: tsaritsa, columbina, sandrone, signora, beidou, rosaria, childe, capitano

all others are welcome to explore, no hard feelings if it doesn't work out c:

VIII. i'd appreciate it if you didn't use heavy metaphors / poetry in our threads. absolutely no hate or anything, i just find it very difficult to understand what the characters are actually doing in this writing style. i also ask that you don't use real life face claims in our threads; i write characters who do not have irl images so it feels very space jam.

IX. i write muses without knowing most of their lore from in-game text because i am lazy. i play genshin daily, but most of it the lore supplied by youtube/wiki because i genuinely cba going through all of the texts in game to get pantalone crumbs. if i write something incorrect to canon, like hideously wrong, feel free to let me know. chances are i just didn't read the small print.

X. i go by dima or vodka! i'm 27 and use they/them. i'm a hobbyist artist and i love fantasy, liches in particular. i will draw our muses whether u like it or not. my dms are open, feel free to ask for my discord, or genshin uid if you play on EU!