#sorry for my upload schedule will be fixing it

[meurchive]

ho ho ho merry yaoimas guys🎁🫶

[messenger-of-babel]

Bruce Wayne Who...

Summary: Thoughts about your relationship with Bruce Wayne.

Word Count: 1.6K

Notes: So Sorry for the longgg absence. I won't explain it too much but I've had serious health complications that require me to go to the doctor weekly and I've been struggling with that a lot. Half of the Christmas event unpublished stories are done- but I don't want to upload them half baked. I will be uploading them around my original schedule of normal fics, so I'm so sorry this all happened while I was doing that Christmas Countdown. So if you see unseasonal content- that is why. I will ask to refer to the notes section of some of the fics before this. I will be trying to deliver more- please be patient and thank you for reading! (I'm working on my requests next so you'll seen them soon <333)

Love RiRi <3

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Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

had sworn off dating. Being a vigilante was enough work on his plate, and he had already involved too many innocent people. He had already made too many people join him in on his night life, like he was a black hole that sucked in anything around it and slowly suffocated its prey. The playboy image also helped him keep his cover up. After all, who could dare point a finger at Bruce Wayne and claim him to be the Bat, when he was spending the night at the Iceberg Lounge? How could he be the one tracking down criminals from Arkham when he had a supermodel on his arm at the mayor’s winter gala?

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

Has to throw that all out of the window the moment that he catches sight of you. When he meets your eyes for only a moment across the sea of people at the Gotham Museums grand reopening, to which he had donated personal items of his family's. His heart lurches in his chest and adrenaline courses through his veins like he's in a fight. You look away after a moment, but he stays fixed on your form as you disappear to talk to some of the curators. Bruce takes a deep sip of his champagne; mind muddled suddenly and distracted the rest of the evening as Alfred drives him home.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Still doesn't think that it's love that has him. He's a stoic man deep down, with the facade of a charming smile and a friendly arm around the shoulders. He doesn't consider it love when he goes out as Bruce Wayne more often, taking impromptu visits to the museum once he discovered that you were an employee there. He doesn't even call it infatuation when Alfred points it out to him. It was merely him making sure that the billionaire image remained intact, and that he was in the public eye.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

Eventually caves and admits his feelings to himself, head in his hands one night. His skin is a storyboard of scars that criss cross lines across his chest and arms. He had tried to brush it off originally as just his playboy persona finding a good alibi for future reference, but late-night thoughts on rooftops had cleared his head. This was the true him that liked you, the scarred black hole that was undoubtedly going to try to drag you in and suck you of what light you had. He spends the night with an anguished heart, trying so hard to contain the ache that had begun to settle there every time he thought about not approaching you.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Practically fawns when he catches you at work, stumbling over his words as he catches you at the end of your shift. He regains his composure and manages to ask you out quietly, giving you an out if you said no. He felt like some teenager, red faced and anxious. He had fought the Joker countless times, stared down Bane and left with his ribs beaten blue. Yet this somehow made his hands shake, hiding in his pockets. The anxiety all but evaporates when you give him a chance, letting him know your address and to pick you up at six that evening. His head felt light, like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. His breath heaves out in a sigh, and he nods, agreeing and promising to send a car around at six. He left the museum that day grinning ear to ear, and this time it wasn't his persona doing the smiling for him.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

Spoils you as much as he can when you give him the green light. After you've tested the waters and have been dating for a few months, he's enamoured. He bought your apartment for you outright and changed the deed to be in your name, so you never had to worry about rent. Bruce doesn’t want anything in return, he just wants you to be safe and happy. Not that he's really been a man of words, the written mess of symbols and letters clog up his throat when he tries to speak. No, he'd rather explain his affection for you in deep stares and gentle hands on your shoulder of back. He loves that you aren’t deceived by the callouses or the rough texture of his palm. He loves that despite the nicks and scars and occasional bruises on his knuckles that you don’t shy away from the coarseness that emanates from him, your body leans in and relaxes instead. He loves that you make him feel softer than he is.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Can't bring himself to tell you that he's Batman but wishes to do so desperately when he sees you lying next to him in bed. You're still fast asleep wrapped in the sheets, arm tucked under the pillow as he gazes down at you. He wonders what you'd do if he shook you awake gently, if your nose would scrunch up as you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. If you would be more irritated or concerned at being roused from sleep. He wants to show you all of him. After all, you're the person that's come closest to seeing the real Bruce he thought he lost years ago. Yet when he thinks too hard on it, he feels sick, like he's leading you on. He can't tell you who he is on nights you aren't tucked in next to him, when he's out on the street. He can't tell you that everyone in this family is in on one big secret, and that there are shared glances and knowing looks traded behind your back. He feels like a liar.

He is one.

He wants to not lie anymore, to involve you into his fold. He had come close once, before Dick pulled him aside and told him it was probably for the best that he didn't. But Dick wasn't here now, was he? He could just reach out and-

His hand hovers as he reaches for you. No, Dick was right. This was for the best.

So, he lies down next to you again and drapes an arm over your middle, convincing himself to sleep it off.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Considers keeping you in his life forever once the tabloids start running marriage speculations about you both. You've been dating for a while and recently have been out of the public eye. Of course, you were just sick, but a few weeks off were enough to substantiate rumours of eloping and a honeymoon. He can’t deny that he thought of it when he made public appearances, or when he was out in the shopping district and his eyes lingered on the engagement rings just a tad too long. Yet he is the same Bruce who shoves that feeling down deep inside him so it can't surface again or bother him at the board meeting he has in thirty minutes.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Leaves said meeting early to find you at work, taking your lunch break. Who pulls you outside and tells you he has something incredibly important to tell you with a slightly wild look in his eye. You can't help but be taken aback, wondering what's gotten the ineffable billionaire agitated. You think of a million scenarios. He needs to go into witness protection? He got involved with gangs? threats on his life again? he's being blackmailed? Blood money? He leaves as soon as he came, driving himself back once telling you to meet him at the manor that night after work. Immediately after work. He drives back to the manor with his pulse thrumming against the skin of his neck and fingers tapping anxiously on the steering wheel. he was going to tell you. He was going to risk everything on a gamble, and he couldn’t help but feel the pit beneath his feet trying to swallow him whole at the implications of it.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Jumps up from the sitting room the moment you step in the door, hands jittery despite the glass of scotch he had been sipping. Whose nerves get the better of him in that one moment despite spending years training away that fear. He was fear now, he was the Batman. But in this moment, he felt more man that he had felt in a long, long time.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Feels like he could collapse as you listen to his admission. He's placed all the cards in your hands, enough to extort him forever, expose him and his identity. Make the world crumble around his ears in such a dramatic fashion that the Justice Leage wouldn't even be able to save him from it. He wasn't just gambling with his identity, he played with the lives and identities of everyone he was connected to, every Robin he had raised and trained. So, when you hold those cards he gave you and fold them to your chest, swearing to never tell a soul, the breath leaving his lungs makes him feel boneless.

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who...

Thinks for the first time, that there was a way to unite the Bat with Bruce Wayne. That when he goes to hug you, he knows that he risked it all on that gamble, but it paid off in ways that he couldn’t have imagined.

and that was enough for him.

[azullumi]

LAST NIGHT I DREAMT OF THE STARS AND YOU, PT. 1

premise — because that’s just how they are; alternatively, “the type to” trend with hsr characters. characters — ruan mei, veritas ratio, aventurine, and robin content tags — gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, slight angst, not proofread, word vomit in some parts, 1.6k words ; headcanons

note from me — seasickness took me out and the fact that i have a 9 hr road trip tomorrow is already making me dizzy. i hope i’m asleep for the 3/4 of it,, also this has a pt. 2 which i’ll upload later on !! anyways i wrote this in between my vacation and trip and in between the long-ass separate fics with sunday and aven so sorry if it seems rusty or out of my style 🙏

RUAN MEI, (lies in between the line of a good lover and a bad lover) the type to be unable to express her affections for you through words and settles with small and simple gestures that she has observed and seen from everyone around her; having never understood “love” and never knowing how to correspond with such, she’s left silent and confused like a lost child in the wake of it. She’ll find herself staring you quietly, memorizing the lines of your face and how it creases and contorts into different expressions, studying each crevices and edges of the parts that makes up your being to bury you in her memory, and there’s a smile that tugs on her lips every time her gaze falls on you. Oh, she wishes she understood what it all meant (she simply and devastatingly adores you).

RUAN MEI, the type to subconsciously write your name on paper whenever she’s distracted. it’s a small habit she does, one that makes her smile whenever she notices the letters spelling out your name. She has ruined, tainted several of her papers, even important ones, with just a single word, a set of letters that composes of what makes warmth seep into her chest when her mind drifts into the thought of someone—you.

RUAN MEI, the type not understand the underlying reason behind her actions—why she spends the time and makes the effort in between her busy schedule and pile of papers to make sweets for you, why she lets you do her hair despite how messy it often turns out when you braid it and how she can never find the strength in herself to “fix” or disturb the state of your work, why she always seek for the warmth of your hands whenever she’s feeling uneasy or stressed, why she always lean to your shoulder or to your touch when you caress her cheek, and everything. It’s a puzzle board of missing and scattered pieces, unable to comprehend the full image of the mystery—and yet, she still delves into the enigma of her feelings that is intertwined with your existence. Maybe one day she’ll come to know it all and maybe it will be the time when she can finally be honest to herself.

VERITAS RATIO, the type to want to know every single thing you and remember all of it. Perhaps it’s the bare minimum, perhaps it’s something that he just does. “They don’t like that,” He would say when an arrogant fool would even try to give you (or do) something, and he’s there, witnessing it all, knowing the things that you prefer and like. He knows what flowers that you like, knows your favorite color, knows the way you prefer to sleep, knows the small habits that you do when you’re nervous or scared or happy, knows every little detail that paints the whole of your existence. Isn’t it simply just lovely when someone desires to know you from the inside and out? Even if it’s just a little bit, he feels more closer to you in this way.

VERITAS RATIO, the type to be sweet and reassuring towards you (through words and actions), even though he may come off as mean, blunt, or rude towards others. Sure, he may call you an idiot sometimes but he’ll never go past that nor reach the line of degrading and distasteful remarks because he never wishes to hurt your feelings; if ever he did, he’ll apologize and tell you it’s not his intention. “Fool,” But the affection that edges into the tone of his voice cuts the thread of disdain that sews into the word. Oftentimes when texting and it’s easy to misunderstand the tone of one’s message, especially his tone, he’ll reassure you that he didn’t send it in a way that he’s angry or scornful: “The ‘Ok’ that I sent is not a mad ‘Ok’, I am in a rush and could only type that out. I’m not angry.”

VERITAS RATIO, the type to entertain your questions no matter how stupid it can be; he’d give you the answers every single time. He doesn’t mind being treated like a walking encyclopedia or dictionary if it’s you—he’d hate it if you were going to ask someone else instead of him (although he probably never told you that discomfort). I mean, you have a well-known member of the Intelligentsia Guild, someone who parallels a genius, just right at the tip of your fingertips, why bother asking someone else?

AVENTURINE, the type to like listening to the sound of your breathing, the sound of your heartbeat (to listen to the sound of you blinking, to listen to your hands soothe). It’s comforting, in an odd way, and he never tells you but it helps him fall asleep—watching the rising and falling of your chest, seeing your calm face wrinkle ever so often while you sleep. He keeps the sound of your heartbeat close to the pocket on his chest, weaving the rhythm of it to his pulse, and before he knew it, the dawn will come in quiet solitude.

AVENTURINE, the type to be always on fight-or-flight mode. Perhaps it’s the way that he grew up, perhaps it was the harsh and cruel environment that he’s in, but he’s always on guard, seemingly on defensive mode as if danger lurks at every dark corner. His shoulders are always tense, his hand either hidden or playing with the ring on his finger, it’s like he never can’t seem to relax himself even when he’s in the comfort of your arms. It follows him everywhere, trailing behind his feet, and forces him awake at night—he doesn’t even know where the fear, the anxiety, is coming from, he just knows it’s there. One wrong step and his thoughts will come crashing down like cold downpour, one wrong move and you’ll come to leave him. Sometimes a little reassurance comes a long way and it’s all he needs when his mind is being tormented. (He will learn to live with it, even if he can never seem to understand or know it. He will come to know peace as if it’s all he had in his hands when the sun first held him).

AVENTURINE, the type to immediately smile after a kiss. It’s utterly affectionate; parting, staring deeply into one’s eyes with his cheeks dusted with a certain color and he’s grinning—warmth beams from his expression and there’s a certain feeling that intertwines into his gaze and he knows it’s love because it’s all he feels whenever he looks at you. He’s the type to laugh into a kiss, feeling ticklish all over his bones as if your hands are ghosting the sensitive parts of his skin, and you’ll ask him, “What?” but he’ll only answer with, “Nothing.” He’s not drunk, the ache of wanting simply swells up in his chest and all he can think of is how much he adores you.

ROBIN, the type to try and make time for you. Her schedule is always packed, filled with all kinds of events and tasks that she needs to do. It’s overwhelming, everything feels overwhelming for her and it’s hard to know which one she should prioritize first not when she has a lot of things on her hands. Sometimes she feels lost, feels the weight too heavy on her shoulders, feels like her feet are tied to the ragged earth, feels the cage closing on her. She tries so hard to be the perfect lover for you, to become someone that will reach beyond your expectations; she cradles that perfect image, broken in all of its edges, that were constructed for herself close to her chest even if it feels like a knife to her heart. But really, all you need is for her to be herself (not the star that everyone admires and wishes to reach) and sometimes, that’s all she needs to hear from you—that she doesn’t have to hold on to the shattered chains when the coldness of the metal reminds her of what she has to carry.

ROBIN, the type to go on all kinds of dates with you, silly or not, and even matches clothes with you. She’s usually the one to make the invite to match, thinking that it’s cute and the both of you rarely ever has time like this so why not make the most out of it; who are you to even say no when she’s beaming at you so warmly? She has all of her options laid on the bed, displayed on clothing hangers, asking you what you’re going to wear or what color do you want. It’s lovely, sweet, seeing her like this and you could only pray to whoever aeon is listening that nobody comes to ruin the day the both of you rarely have for each other.

ROBIN, the type to bring you all kinds of souvenirs and gifts from her (universal) tours, sometimes having bought too much that you don’t know what to with some of them; the type to send you letters every time she’s away so that you won’t worry for he, especially knowing what happened last time, the type to always try to keep in touch and keep you close no matter the stars between you and her. She’ll ask for one thing that you own that she can carry with her person, making a promise that she’ll come back and return it—the item a testament to her vow—, but for the meantime, she’ll keep it so she has a little piece of you everywhere she goes and she can say that you’re always there by her side.

DRUM ROLLS PLS *dundundundundun* special mention to the one and only beloved feli @dr-felitas !! i think i owe you a lot of end notes so here i am :3 also i’m sorry if i publish this and i still haven’t responded to your messages (if you have sent me cause im on dnd to avoid my dumbass from checking and looking at the phone during car rides knowing that i get motion sick) ANYWAYS i would like to begin this with i love you mwamwa, you’re one of the sweetest and most wonderful souls i have ever met and anyone who tells u otherwise will get a boulder thrown to their head 🫵 im glad to have met you, that my anti-social ass went ahead and messaged you despite the fact that we only talked once or twice AND IT WAS OVER ASKS OR COMMENTS BUT YEAH !! idk what or where i’ll be if i hadn’t done that; maybe not replying to my friends idk (again im sorry if i take business days to answer i sometimes get busy or i sometimes dont have the energy :3 i hope u still love me hahahaha… *slides down the wall*) again, i really appreciate and adore you for everything. you are a brave and kind person and i only hope for the good things for you. don’t be too mean or harsh to yourself 🫂 know that i’m always here to listen to you no matter what you’re saying. you’re never a burden to me and i hope you’ll come to see just how you shine and radiate with so much warmth and kindness, it’s like love itself is found in you. ily lottss mwaa <33

sunday, himeko, welt, gallagher, and jing yuan next !!

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter One

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6k

A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos

Master List

Chapter One

“Remind me why I hired you?”

His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.

Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”

“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.

It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.

“What was that?” He asked.

It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.

“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”

“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.

“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.

As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.  

There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.

“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”

“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”

He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.

You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.

The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake. 

The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.

You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk. 

The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations. 

At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.

If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.

You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.

But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.

And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.

By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.

The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor. 

New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.

You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks  to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.

Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.

You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.

The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.

Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.

The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club. 

“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.

You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you.  He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.

“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.

He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.

After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer. 

“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.

And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.

Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.

“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.

You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.

As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.

After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame. 

He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.

“What can I get you?” You asked.

“Another scotch would be great.”

“Sure thing.”

You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you  grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.

“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.

“I’d remember seeing you.”

He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he  wasn’t checking you out.

“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.

He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.

“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.

“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.

His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.

“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”

You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.

Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.

“Oh, a thigh man as well?” 

“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.

His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.

“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.

His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.

“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”

Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.

You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.

“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.

“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”

“You have no idea...”

It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do. 

“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.

“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”

“Another?” 

You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.

“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.

“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.

Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”

“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”

He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.

“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”

Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.

“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.

“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.

“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.

He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”

“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”

He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again. 

They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.

“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.

When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.

“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.

It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.

“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.

“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.

“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.

“Should I ask?”

Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.

“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.

Oh.

Shit.

You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”

“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”

“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.

“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.

“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”

“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”

It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”

Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.

“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”

“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”

That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.

“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?” 

“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.

You took a second to consider your answer.

“Jellyfish.”

“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?” 

“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”

“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.

There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.

“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.

Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.

“What do you hate most about New York?” 

“Hate?” He repeated.

“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.

You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.

“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”

You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.

“When was the last time you used the subway?”

“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.

“Fine. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”

The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.

“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.

“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”

“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Normally I don’t need lines.”

“No?”

“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.

You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.

“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.

“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.

“Emphasis on the filthy part.”

He smirked at that.

The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.

“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.

“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”

There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.

“You like baseball?”

“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”

Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.

“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.

“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.

And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.

“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.

“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.

“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.

There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe. 

“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.

“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”

Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.

“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”

He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.

“I thought it was my turn.”

“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”

“We could be friends.”

“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”

“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”

The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.

He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.

Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).

And he watched you, too.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.

So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.

Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.

One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.

You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him. 

“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.

“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”

It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.

Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.

“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.

Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.

“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”

“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”

Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.

“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.

He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again. 

It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.

Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.

You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.

No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.

I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.

A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.

Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.

He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...

Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.

Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt. 

He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.

As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.

A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx

[stargazedwinchester]

Stanford ♡ Sam

Summary: You meet your new roommate, Sam Winchester.

Word Count: 1,320

Pairing: Student!Sam, Student!FemReader

My new upload schedule has changed! There will be a new post every Wednesday and Saturday 12:30 GMT (Excluding this one). Part 2 to this will be up Christmas Day meaning there won't be another imagine until the 1st of January. I'm posting this one today because part 2 will be Christmas themed and I don't want to post it late as it'll lose the feel of the story if that makes sense? Anyway, enjoy!

The intricate designs on the walls of Stanford University were unreal. The building’s age exceeds a century; its continued beauty is astonishing. You make your way through the vast arches, looking down at the map of the University provided by senior students standing by the front gate.

‘Dorm 143,’ you hum to yourself, the signs on the walls guiding you in the right direction. You guide your way up the stairs and take a right turn, walking down a lively corridor. You find your room and unlock it with your key, then you’re greeted with a stuffy odour and a plain dorm. Observing the empty space, you plant your bags on the left side of the room. The walls are a boring white and the curtains are bland. There’s no character to this place and you can’t wait to waste your student loan on decorating, so it feels like home.

You open up a window to allow fresh air to flow through, when the door bursts open and the bustle from outside echoes throughout the dorm. A 6 foot something guy balances 2 boxes on top of each other, tossing them on the floor. He doesn’t even notice you before looking up.

“Oh, hey! Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he exclaims, fixing his fringe, smiling at you cordially. He’s wearing a light, muted blue Nike sweatshirt and a suede jacket on top with dark denim jeans and Nike trainers. He’s a very cute guy and you’re unsure whether he’s got the right room.

“Sorry, I’m Sam. Winchester.” He pauses, holding out a hand for you to shake. You take it. You smile back at him. “I’m Y/N. Are you sure you have the right room?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” He asks and you shrug. “I dunno. You don’t seem the type to study law.” He snickers at your comment, furrowing his eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just don’t look the type, that’s all.” You look down at the floor, somewhat embarrassed at what you’ve just said to him. Sam chortles. “Right… Okay.” He says, he turns around and places the boxes he brought in on the right side of the room. You feel very awkward at this point, so you take yourself toward the door to go outside and pick up the rest of your stuff. “Where’re you going?” Sam asks curiously, and you glance at him quickly. “I need to go pick up the rest of my stuff from my car,” you say, “it’s okay. I can get it myself.” You insist and Sam walks toward you. “Let me help you.” He towers over you as he holds the door open. You feel bad if you reject his offer, so you allow him to follow you down to your car, anyway. It could help having an extra pair of hands to bring your things up.

You lead Sam to the pickup truck that you borrowed from your parents, multiple boxes filling the passenger side and even more in the back. Unlocking your car, Sam immediately jumps in and picks up two boxes at a time. You attempt to take two as well, but fail miserably. He chuckles at you. “Here, give it to me,” Sam says, and you carefully place a box on top of the ones he’s already holding.

“So… What’re you doing for the rest of the day?” He asks, trying to break the silence.

“Well, it’s probably gonna take me a while to unpack my things,” you pause in thought, oblivious to what he’s attempting to ask you. “How come?” You question and he shakes his head lightly. “No reason.” He smiles at you. You reach your door and you let yourselves in. Sam places your boxes on the floor carefully, then leaving the room once more. He tells you he’s going to pick up the remaining boxes and for you to stay there. You turn around and look at Sam’s side. There’s a noticeable difference between yours and Sam’s boxes. He had only brought two whilst you have five overstuffed boxes sitting along your bed frame. You almost feel guilty for him. The minimal amount of stuff he’s brought makes you ponder what his life was like before this, before Stanford became reality.

You pick up his coat that was sprawled out on his bed, his wallet barely hanging out from his pocket. A small, frayed polaroid photo peeks out from inside the wallet, a photo of Sam and another guy with short, brown hair and a dark brown leather jacket. He’s wearing an amulet, it’s a brushed bronze colour on a black chord. They seem happy. You notice some lights in the dim background and a quaint Christmas tree; you assume the photo was taken last year. A gentle smile graces your face at the thought of him sharing Christmas with someone. Disregarding the amount of things he’s brought with him, at least he has family to lean back on and that’s where the best memories are kept.

Sam suddenly strolls in, his eye’s taking a second glance at his polaroid quickly being thrown on the bed. He sets the boxes down and places his hands on his hips. “Were you going through my things?” He scoffs, his eyebrow flicks up in disbelief. “I was tidying your things and a polaroid fell out…” You tell a white lie, nothing that would hurt him. Sam laughs lightly, his deep dimples complimenting his face. “It’s okay. It’s my brother and I,” he starts, picking up the picture and examining it himself. “He’s called Dean. Before last Christmas I hadn’t seen him for 2 years. Our father travels a lot and we never get a chance to get together as a family.” Sam looks at you, some regret lingering in his eyes. Your gaze drops to the floor. You just know that there’s something more going on that he’s not telling you, for obvious reasons. Sam notices the change in topic. “Dean’s an asshole, but he’s my brother. He’s a good guy.” Sam places the polaroid in his wallet and hangs his coat up on the rack at the end of his bed.

A few hours had gone by, and at this point you have given up on putting things away and tidying up. Sam sits on his bed, scribbling something on a notepad. He has been quiet since your interaction earlier. Sam had helped you put your things away, but then gave up when it came to your clothes. You relax on your bed, letting out a deep sigh.

“God, I need to get out.” You complain, Sam not moving an inch. He doesn’t even look at you. You sit up on the bed, looking directly at Sam. “I want to go out.” You repeat, and a smile creeps up on his face. “Then go out,” he starts, “no one’s stopping you.” He then goes back to whatever he was writing on his notepad.

“Come out with me.” You suggest, and he huffs.

“Now, why would I want to do that?”

“Because we’re roommates, Sam. We have to get to know each other.” You explain, hoping that he will give in. He sets his notebook down and stands up. He walks over to grab his coat and passes you yours. “Fine. On one condition.” Sam has a cheeky look on his face that proves he’s about to test the waters.

“Go on,”

“You agree that this will be our first date?” He asks, and your cheeks flush red. “I can’t pass up an opportunity to take a pretty girl out.” He adds, making your heart skip a beat. “Sure, it’s a date. But on one condition,” you copy and he lets out a chuckle. “Yeah?” He moves closer to you, his height clearly showing the difference between you both. “Only if you drive.” You prod at his chest, causing him to recoil playfully.

[tkaulitzlvr]

hii can u pls do c0ckwarming with tom omg

STAY STILL - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom can’t wait any longer, but knows that you are too tired to fix his problem the way he wants you to. but you can’t deny the need slowly becoming mutual so, you decide to meet him halfway, and he doesn’t complain.

content: smut (not full sex, just what the req says lol)

a/n: thanku for the req!! SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING, hopefully this makes up for it! literally screaming and giggling whilst writing this (help), also the way he moves his tongue in this vid HELLO (need it inside me) ++there won’t be a part two (don’t hate me!) my upload schedule is just too irregular, i have a ton of requests and just don’t think i’d be able to write one, in the future if i’m less busy i may come back to this!!

“please baby, i’ll do all the work, i promise.” tom pleads for probably the tenth time, digging his head into the crook of my neck and placing open-mouthed kisses onto the skin, whining lowly against it. any other time, i would’ve given in the second his lips made contact with my neck, and he knows this, deciding to try his luck once again. however right now, the circumstances don’t work in tom’s favour, much to his annoyance. i am too tired to even properly decline his request, sighing loudly and shaking my head as my eyes flutter closed. this isn’t enough for tom, my lack of response not a concrete ‘no’, this all he needs to press himself against me once more, hoping that it would be just enough to push me toward that three letter word he has been longing for me to say. whilst our proximity doesn’t do that just yet, the frequent motion of tom’s hips rocking against my waist reminds me just how desperate he is, the hardness evident through his boxers - not that the cotton left much to be imagined anyway.

“baby i’m tired, tomorrow, okay?” i sigh out, half-heartedly pushing tom away as a frustrated groan leaves his lips. though he fails to see the mischievous grin that spreads across my face with the small push that i place to his chest when he flops beside me, clearly not understanding what i am doing. honestly, i wouldn’t have minded lazy sex - tom never complains when he does all the work and, if i give in, it will make him shut up, his whining already getting on my nerves, whether he is trying to irritate me or not. but, watching the way his face furrows in utter frustration, wincing every so often at the pain that begs for a release from underneath his boxers, gives me the motivation to tease him just a little more - but in the end, i am more than willing to give him what he wants, or at least, meet in the middle.

“fuck.” he mutters under his breath, wincing a little at my response, eyes squeezing shut as his chest heaves up and down, loud and shaky breaths escaping his lips, making it hard to close my eyes and finally fall asleep. i know that he won’t give up yet, so, i lay silently, wondering how long it will take for him to continue pleading me to let go and give him what he wants. and, as expected, not even two minutes pass before his hand snakes around my waist from behind? his body pressing itself firmly against my back.

“this isn’t gonna go away baby, shit- i’m sorry, just, please…let me do something.” he sighs out, a low whine following his plea, hand firmly squeezing my waist whilst his head buries itself into my neck, teeth digging into the skin softly. “fuck- need you so bad, please.”

a small laugh leaves my lips, stifled quickly once i purse them shut, thinking out loud as my amusement towards his desperation quickly becomes evident. tom stops his slow kisses against my neck, whipping his head upward in confusion, failing to see how i could possibly be laughing right now. “what’s so funny? seriously schatz, this fucking hurts. please, just let me take care of it. i won’t be long, just need to feel you.”

his voice reduces to a mumble, eyebrows knitting together once again, though a wave of relief visibly washes over his expression when i roll my eyes, sighing in -totally forged- annoyance, though he doesn’t recognise that. all he realises is that he is getting something, not even completely sure what, but in this moment, anything at all would be enough for him to release - he is far too desperate to be picky. soon enough, he hauls himself up, hurriedly undoing the button of his oversized jeans and tugging them from his frame, carelessly throwing them onto the floor. and god, if i had thought his problem looked bad through the denim, then i am quickly proven wrong, the firm print of his dick through his boxers almost painfully prominent. his hand brushes against it, the cotton of his underwear now creating more friction, his head falling backward as a low groan sounds from the back of his throat, showing just how sensitive he really is, and now i know that it won’t take a lot to give him what he craves.

he quickly moves to climb on top of me, not getting far as my hand rests flat against his bare chest, halting his movement. his eyebrows furrow in confusion, mouth opening to protest my resistance, though i interject, deciding that if he wants me that badly, then he shouldn’t complain about how he gets me.

“mmm, no. sit back baby, i want to try something.” i whisper, teeth grazing the skin just below his ear, tongue running over it afterward as his eyes flutter open and closed, mouth hanging open with a small smirk on his face. he nods his head quickly, sliding backward until his upper half rests against the headboard, head tilted upward and legs sprawled onto the bed. his hands however, fail to be so still, reaching outward hopelessly and grabbing me by my waist, fingers digging into the flesh as he pulls me on top of him.

he winces loudly once i sit directly on top of his chest, the sound soon turning into a low moan, mouth dropping downward into an ‘o’ shape at the dangerously addictive mix of pain and pleasure that i give him. i smirk in satisfaction at his desperation, finding it almost pitiful, watching intently at the way his eyes flutter, on the verge of closing, though they manage to stay half lidded, soon shooting open when my small fingers make contact with the waistband of his boxers. his breathing becomes more erratic, hands flying to my hips once more, chest rising up and down at an even faster pace. right now, wearing only a small pair of shorts and crop top appears to work perfectly in my favour, and tom’s, as his hands reach to pull the strap down, lips soon attaching themselves to my breast, whilst my own hands move my shorts down my body, tugging tom’s boxers down soon after.

his eyes are fixed on where our bodies connect once i line myself up, sliding down onto him at an agonisingly slow pace, wincing slightly at the feeling of being stretched out, going from being totally empty to so full within the space of a few seconds. tom is way out of it, and had been ever since i began to sink onto him, his mouth uttering low curses and grunts under his breath, nails digging into the flesh of my waist, teeth occasionally digging into his bottom lip.

“fuck schatz, yeah…you’re so tight, so good for me.” he utters when i bottom out, though his satisfaction doesn’t last long, eyes quickly opening once he realises that i am not moving, instead staying still with him still inside of me. he decides against questioning my behaviour, his hips beginning to thrust upwards as a slow pace, incoherent whines leaving his lips as he does so.

“ah ah ah…” i begin, lifting my hips upward and almost completely off of him, hand moving to rest firmly against his chest. he slows his movements, pushing my hips so that he is inside of me once again. “no moving baby, just let me sit. stay still, okay?”

i clench around him unconsciously, moaning quietly as he groans under his breath, clearly holding back from snapping his hips upward again. “fuck baby, you’re fucking killing me, you know that?” he confesses, shaking his head slowly, eyes lustful as they stare into my own, the pools of brown silently communicating exactly what he wants to do, the intent behind them nothing close to innocent. but, no matter how tempting it sounds to let him take control, to reverse the roles and have me pinned beneath him, thrusting in and out of me whilst muttering confirmations of how good i feel, how perfect i am, i enjoy seeing him like this, completely helpless underneath me, begging for something, anything, other than the teasing that i keep up, and i don’t intend on giving in.

“you wanted this, right?” i taunt, lips curving upward into an innocent smile, my thoughts anything but, aware of what i am doing, the frustration that takes over his expression proof of my success. “i thought you wanted me, like this…” my voice is low and suggestive, thick as honey, words as addictive as a drug, and he continues to take them all in. my lips make contact right next to his ear, slowly kissing just below it, digging my teeth in afterward, his hips jolting upward at the sensation. and if that wasn’t enough, when i adjust myself on top of him, moving my lips ever so slightly, that is when he loses it, head quickly rolling backward, mouth dropping open, a deep groan sounding from the back of his throat.

“oh my god, fuck- you’re driving me insane, please just- do something.” his voice is shaky, cut off by small groans, his tongue coming outward to play with his lip ring, flicking the silver metal in small circles, all whilst his eyes never leave my own, the desperation within them never diminishing.

“nope, you’ll live baby.” i state in response, leaning forward and resting my chest against his, wrapping my arm around his frame and sighing nonchalantly, closing my eyes. “i told you i was tired.” as i do so, he shifts his weight underneath me, slightly altering the angle that his dick rests inside of me, his eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. no matter how much he wants something more, he doesn’t refuse my embrace, wrapping his arms around my back, his hands tracing circles along the bare skin, lifting up my crop top and resting underneath it.

minutes pass like this, my walls clenching around him every so often, getting him just a little more riled up, enough to make him sigh out in pleasure and groan at the feeling of slight relief, though it is never enough to satisfy him, just enough to keep him on the verge of losing his mind, to keep him guessing, waiting for something more than just being inside of me. this feels like more of a punishment than a reward to him, the frustrated groans he lets out only seeming to get louder, though he doesn’t give in, knowing that he could thrust upwards into me - all it would take is a slight movement of his hips and he would have me, yet he holds back, almost testing his own willpower, even though we both know that it is non-existent, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself otherwise.

and it doesn’t take long for him to finally reach his breaking point, no longer able to handle just having me here, sitting beneath me helplessly, his mind encouraging him to move, whilst his body is too desperate, too completely needy, to even comply with his unholy thoughts. instead, he voices them as a request, trying once again to elicit something from my own still body.

“kiss me.” he mutters into the silence as my head remains rested in the crook of his neck, hearing slightly muffled. though the quiet doesn’t show it, he is becoming more restless, breathing getting louder and faster, his hold on me tighter, almost inaudible whines sounding from the back of his throat every so often.

“hm?” i mumble half-heartedly, lacking the energy to lift my head upward from where it had been resting, staying still within his embrace instead. my thumbs trace the firmness of his back, travelling over each bump, each muscle, all coated with a thin line of sweat, all of it evidence of just how needy he is for this.

“i said kiss me.” he repeats, somewhere on the verge of desperation and frustration, clearly not willing to let me take control of him anymore. as he speaks, his hand moves from my back, making contact with my chin, using it to lift my head upward so my eyes look straight into his own, faces inches apart. warm and heavy, his breath fans against my face when he speaks, the close proximity and admitted need for him creating a light shade of pink to etch upon my cheeks, though it is nothing compared to the helplessness that tom displays, his words proving it if that isn’t enough. “no more games. just fucking kiss me.”

something inside me snaps. whether it is the close proximity, his enticing gaze, or the time that i have spent on top of him, doing nothing to pleasure either of us, it doesn’t matter anymore. all that i am certain of is that i no longer want to tease him, placing my lips onto his quickly. the kiss is slow and gentle as i initiate it, tom reciprocating it, his shoulders quickly relaxing as he already receives some relief after waiting for so long. though it is too soft, too reluctant, too tender for him. he wants more, and he wastes no time in acting on his desire, pressing his lips more firmly against my own, deepening the kiss and biting down roughly onto my bottom lip as it parts in response, allowing him to slip his tongue inside.

and when my hips jolt upwards slightly at his sudden movement, he soon realises that he has me where he wants - still inside of him, and that realisation is all it takes for his hips to snap upwards, thrusting in and out of me at a fast pace. his hands find my lower back, trailing down to my ass and roughly cupping the flesh, using them to quicken his thrusts and allow my bounces to meet them, fingers leaving harsh red marks in place of the soft skin. the distance between our faces only increases beyond a few inches once i let out a loud moan, smiling in satisfaction.

he places one final kiss on my lips, flipping us over in one swift motion whilst staying inside of me. i cry out when his tip hits the sensitive spot inside of me, though i soon play it off, attempting to return my facial expression to something as close as neutral as i can get it - on the inside, i am screaming, silently begging for him to carry on. but he doesn’t. his eyes twinkle with satisfaction, enjoying the way i lay helplessly beneath him, even though moments ago, the roles were completely reversed. he picks up on my attempt to act casual, aware that i am just as desperate as he is, if not more, my entire being transparent, almost pathetically easy to decipher to him.

“this whole nonchalant act doesn’t suit you baby. you can stop acting like you don’t want it, we both know you’ll be screaming in a couple minutes, watch.”

those are the final words he says before reconnecting his lips to mine and speeding up his thrusts, soon proving his bold statement to be nothing short of the truth, making my temporary dominance seem a fragment of my imagination within seconds.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[sheepaleepz-but-art]

ok second time trying to upload this because tumblr hates me but ANYWAYS!! SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!! ive been in a real art slump for the past few months and i thought college and a consistent schedule would fix it but nah bruh my art is BLOCKED. so because i didn't get a lot of art done this year my improvement isn't AS dramatic as previous years but i still like this :]

here's the drawings from 2023 and 2022! and the rest are under the cut. the first one's from 2016!! so like... oh god it's truly been 8 years

[whywhaatt]

"hey i'm bored" (isaacwhy x reader)

-

word count: 2.028

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, hand kink(kinda), degrading, light choking

a/n: this is my first fic😜 i didnt proof read it yet so hopefully i didn't misspell anything too badly

-

10 hours. 10 hours of sitting at this desk and playing on my computer. I've gone through almost every app or game that I have downloaded. I've checked every social media, watched the newest uploads of my friends, and I even read a random wikipedia article. It's around 2am now. I need to go to sleep. After turning off my computer, and taking my headset off and hanging it on the monitor, I walk towards my bed and grab my phone from my nightstand.

1:59 AM... god damn. I gotta fix my sleep schedule. Nahhh I know I won't. The lack of sleep is kicking in, it feels like 5 minutes go by of me just staring at my lock screen. Turns out it was just 30 seconds cus my phone automatically turned off. It takes me a minute to realize it, but the only reason I do is cus a notification pops up.

"wassup" - isaac💀

tf... it's 2am?!? Why is he texting me?

~

isaac: wassup

me: heyy

isaac: sorry it's late. im bored

me: bro i just laid down💀💀

isaac: can i come over? larry and tanner and annoying tf outa me rn

me: telling them you said that🗣️🗣️

isaac: bro pls. ion know if it's cus im tired but y'know how it is. i just need to get out of the house

me: yeah ion care, just let me know when you're here

isaac: bet

~

That was random, I guess Isaac's coming over now. He's been over before, but not like this. What if something happens? I'm probably just over thinking this. Am I shaved? Yeah, I'll be fine.

~

isaac: i'm here😜

isaac: weird emoji sorry

~

"Thanks for letting me come over, I needed to get out of the house" Isaac said, sitting down on my couch.

"Honestly, if I with all of those people I would have to leave all the time. So glad I live alone".

"Yeah well, I love them. It would be weird being away from them after this long of dealing with their shit." Isaac said, "So, what are we going to do"? I didn't think about that. I kinda just panicked for 10 minutes while he was driving here.

"I don't know, we could watch a movie or something?" I ask while tossing him the remote, "Move over, this isn't your apartment. I wanna sit". I sat down not too far away, but Isaac scutched closer and wrapped his free arm around me. His other hand had the remote in it, just scrolling through shit on Hulu.

"YO YOU'VE BEEN WATCHING CHAINSAW MAN"

"GOD ISAAC I HAVE NEIGHBORS"

"Oh shit sorry, I love Chainsaw Man. Have you seen me wearing that mask. I look so good in it man, look here I'll show you-". I had to cut him off.

"Isaac, I've seen the photo like 20 times. As much as I love how you look in it, I'm not looking at it again."

"Shut up and look at it" He holds my chin, forcing me to look at the picture on his phone. Damn. He is hot. I'm speechless. The fact his hand can easily grab my face like this, I wonder what else they can do. Looking up at him, my cheeks start to get hot a little bit. This eye contact is painful. I need this to go to more. My hand goes to the back of his neck, our faces slowly inching towards eachother. There's a pause, almost like we realized what is happening.

I close the distance. Just a light kiss, short and simple, but we both need more. Immediately, Isaac's hand pulls me in.

"God.. I-I need... you" I moan in between kisses. Isaac pulls back, and I whine at the loss of contact.

"What?"

"I can't tell if I'm just tired, but I need you so badly. Please Isaac." I am begging. BEGGING. For this man.

"You're so pathetic." He says right before kissing me again, this time more passionately, and his hand moving towards my neck. He squeezes softly, making sure it wasn't too much for me. I'm a moaning mess.

"Do you want to move to your bed?" Isaac questions before picking me up bridal style and carrying me towards my bedroom. My arms are wrapped around his neck while I'm looking up at him. I'm just looking at his eyes, he's so beautiful. He sets me down by the foot of me bed, so I'm standing with my arms around his neck. I always knew he was taller than me, but the height different is crazy. He looks twice my height, and he's still bending over to kiss me.

"Baby, go lay down. I'll take care of you". I almost moaned when I heard that. The things I would let this man do to me is insane, ever since I've met him the list has been getting longer and longer.

I'm laying down my bed, when suddenly my feet are pulled and my legs are dangling off the side. Isaac takes his sweet time pulling down my Nike shorts, teasing me slightly over my panties. I need him to hurry up and get straight to the point cus this is unbearable. Again, he slowly takes off my panties and just barely touches my pussy. The tiniest bit of contact makes me shiver and whine for more.

And like that, Isaac's eyes look up at me as he starts eating me out. He keeps looking and studying my every reaction until he gets the one he wants out of me. Remember when I asked what his hands could do? Well, I found out. As his tongue is focused on my clit, he slowly puts two fingers into my hole. I have to cover my mouth with my hand so I don't scream.

With his fingers thrusting in and out of me and his tongue working wonders on my clit, I know I won't last long like this. My eyes are stuck shut, with one hand over my mouth and the other holding his hair back. My thighs are practically crushing Isaac's head at this point.

"Isaac, I cant" I'm panting in between moans, "I'm so close". As I finish my sentence, everything stops. I whine and whimper, needing more stimulation.

Isaac moves from below my torso to standing at the foot of my bed. He slips his shirt over his head, leans down and puts me back into the spot I was before. Then continues to undress himself right before me. His body is gorgeous. I cant stop staring at him as he gets on top of me, kissing me softly. I can taste myself on his lips.

He breaks the kiss and slides my shirt over my head, exposing my chest. The cold air hit me all of a sudden, making me shiver for a little bit. It feels weird to be fully exposed to Isaac. The closest we've ever gotten to this is almost kissing on New Year's, but we both realized we've just had a little too much to drink and we backed off. I guess Isaac notices me thinking, cus he stops everything and looks down at me.

"Babe, you okay? You can tell me to stop at anytime, I want you to be comfortable" he says, it was the most serious he's sounded all night (well I guess morning). "We can stop if you'd like, I'm sorry I rushed all of this-"

"No keep going, I just got lost in my thought. Thank you for caring for me, Isaac." I pause my sentence to kiss his lips softly, "I'm having a good time". Isaac nodded and continued kissing my neck, leaving little marks every now and again. His hand creeped up, massaging my left breast, and his mouth making his way towards my right. When his tongue made contact with my nipple, I let out a slight moan and let my eyes close softly. My brain feels fuzzy, probably from the lack of sleep, but I love it. It feels like I'm high, but in the cringy "high on life" way.

"I have a condom in my nightstand" I blurt out, "but I'm on the pill so if you don't have anything you can go without it". His head perks up from my chest, looking almost as excited as a kid in a candy store.

"Really?" he asks excitedly. Yup, exactly like a kid. I nod my head yes and Isaac immediately moves to get himself into position. He lines himself up, looking up at me in my eyes, and slowly inserts himself into me. Both of our mouths fly open, releasing a string of moans and whines. Isaac was bigger than I expected, but he feels so good inside of me.

After a couple of second of staying still so I can get used to his size, Isaac starts to move. My hands move to hold on to Isaac's shoulders as he slowly moves in and out of me. I push his head down to kiss me to try and muffle my moans, but it barely does anything.

"Faster, please, please go faster" I beg, with our faces so close we're practically sharing breathes. His pace speeds up and my head relaxes back into the pillow. I can feel myself getting closer and closer by the second.

The room is filled with random moans or praises from either one of us, not being able to hear anything else. If Isaac didn't wake my neighbors earlier, then they're definitely awake now. Honestly, I could care less if I get a noise complaint.

"Isaac- Oh my- I'm- I'm getting close" I moan out between breathes. His hand moves from behind me to my neck, lightly choking me. My mouth flies open from the new pressure on my neck. Isaac, seeing the opportunity, takes over my mouth. Inserting his tongue and immediately dominates my mouth. I'm being so loud right now, and I don't care.

"Isaac, I'm about to- I'm 'bout to cum. Please Isaac. Oh my god please." I gasp out with the air I have.

"Do it. Cum for me, baby. You're so amazing" Isaac moans into my ear, loosening his grip on my neck a little. My nails digging so far into his back, they could leave scars. My head flies back, eyes rolling to the back of my head, and toes curl. A wave of pleasure rolls over my body as I cum with Isaac still going inside of me.

"Just a little bit more, baby, hold on for me. Please baby, you're doing so good for me." Isaac lets out as his hand lets go to steady himself on the bed, getting the pace back to how he needs it. While overstimulated, I try my best to hold tight for Isaac.

He's close. I can tell. Not too much longer, Isaac comes inside of me. All of his body weight crushed on top of me, feeling like a weighted blanket. A wave of praises came out of Isaac as he caught his breathe.

"Let's get you cleaned up"

-

After we took a very, very long and slow shower together, we laid down in bed together just cuddling.

"The house is asking where I'm at, Imma tell them I'm staying here for the night if thats okay with you" Isaac asks.

"Yeah, it's perfectly fine." I reply, "Random question, well two actually."

"Hit me."

"Okay so one: did you mean for this to end up like this? And was this technically a booty call or whatever?"

"Okay, first off I'm not liked that. But I realize it looks like it. Nah, I just wanted to hang out with you. It was just one of those late night and I'm bored situations"

"Okay, great, umm and two: what does this make us now?"

"Wow, umm.. hard question. I don't know. What do you want to be?"

"Maybe more than friends, I really like you Isaac." I confess, just staring into his eyes through the dark. He leans in and kisses me.

"Will you be with me?"

a/n: i hope you liked this:P my requests are currently open so make sure to leave some if you have any!!

[scopophobia-polaris]

Hello, it's the new year and I haven't been...talking much for a long time.

As I've stated, I've had multiple health scares this year, and I -goddamn this is too formal, I dont like to talk about myself much, I'd rather keep things to myself, but I'm currently taking multiple meds for a formal diagnosis, right now I'm being treated for Bipolar. Turns out there was something up. I aint really afraid to talk about it, I mean lots of people get treated for many things and it's normal.

This was uh.....scary for me, I figured something was up and I mean I'm fine now but DAMN first 15 minutes of hearing that? Nasty. Lot of things that are super personal tied to just a lot of shit yada Yada I feel like shit for just being nonchalant about this but I don't know what else to do, I'm taking care of myself and trying to fix my life up.

But now that I'm getting to a point where I'm more stable, I'm starting to feel more ....me? Genuinely, it's gonna take me a long time to make myself get into a solid schedule, I dont think I'll ever have one, maybe the slight one i have now, but atleast I don't feel like I have 0 control over my life at this point.

Idk man I had some kind of control but I don't know...who am I kidding. I feel like a new person. I feel better, my body doesn't hurt as much.

I don't know if being a new person is a good or a bad thing for me but uh...idk idk idk maybe I kept reading through my scripts and realized something.

Anyways, now that I know when to take the meds so I can draw, I've been back to just? Drawing and having fun?

Really living by this its why I'm not online much, if I aint having fun what's the point.

BUT now I get to the uh...other shit.

So because of the meds stuff and all kinds of shit mostly......IM ABOUT TO LOSE INSURANCE...... and I've done a few things.

For starters. I'm setting up a patreon, I'm going to do it so that it would only charge when I make a post of 5-10 pages of the comic, I'm gonna get through my first half of chapter 4 before I ever even think if taking anything from ANYONE, so no monthly just for specificposts. Quite ffrankly, I do not like money, like in a way of it makes me nervous and I want people to get a bang out of their buck because I'd I don't make it good is it worth it????

tWO......I don't like advertising, I never did, I probably should of said I have them last few plushes during December (like everyone around me was saying to do and YET....there is less then 10😭) but I wanted people to be spending money on something worthwhile. Hell I mean, it's guilt, its massive guilt, there are people more in need and NOW MORE THAN EVER.....so to not feel like a thief, anyone who gets this critter here, I will donate a solid 30USD out of each purchase to a family in Gaza in need, of your choice of course. I need to pay for shipping but whatever else is left I will donate the rest. That should leave me around $40 on each plush and that's fine, I'm gonna save it for meds because when I go uninsured idk how long it's gonna be, maybe a bit maybe a while, I dont know yet but I wanna provide aid in some way. Like ceasefire don't mean shit until it's permanent, and I don't trust Israelis to hold true to any promise. So I want some of that money to atleast help SOMEONE. Because in the end I know I can get by but.

But my wife is the only person with a job.......😬😬😬😬😬

Besides all of that I'm sorry I haven't uploaded pages or drawings or anything, I wanna have a better relationship online, like I did when I was younger, when it was just fun and I had my own corner, maybe that'd nostalgia but I'm getting sick of social media, and maybe I don't wanna be walking on eggshells because of fandom whatever. So I will be trying to do more in the future, I hope yall have a good day.

And thank you again for all the patience with my slow ass 😭

[mixvyu]

Parfum d’étoile - episode twenty

scaramouche x reader smau

previous | masterlist | next

Extras

The argument that Aether and Scara had isn’t the one in the last chapter it happened right after!

Sorry if the writing in the first part is weird i just got my nails done so typing was hell on earth i had to use the dictation feature lmaoo

It’s like 9am and i haven’t gone to sleep yet but i also have to wake up early ugh!! I need tl fix my sleep schedule so bad

Next chapter is going to be a written one might take a while to upload it! Sorry! 🙁

★彡Taglist! [open]

@gekkow @aemiko @veekoko @kichiyoshi @scaramouchelover4ever @sukunasrealgf @lxkeeeee @kunisblog @yukiipc @brfrtbrt @simpforsubmissivemen @featuredtofu @fanfictionenthusiast @beriiov @lyzisbitchingagain @bluebelony @ryomiye @reinoodle @bananasquash @mikukksks @sakiimeo @kitanablades @pennyluvr @sakurapeach @crystalsguitar @feiherp @deluluangel @gracefulace200 @apinu @elernity @st4romii @ahseya @yelleloww @prettiestgirlxoxo @yoichiislovie @silly-ez @helix-frscr @morima2137 @boxedbest @serossidechick @yuraasia @xirthia @anastaxiah @angeilix @gyuhairclips @mikalei @yuuichilover @kacelah @sketcheeee @beebotea @keqing15 @yourmotherslover420 @m00mie-m00 @kyon-cherri i @jkcryzzlis @im-inlovewithy0u @milceslv @certaindreampost @meowmeowmau @nnasv @yuminako @ada-ydreamer @fenriusulfr

[aidulusion]

💭  〢     REUNIONS 

II. REALIZATIONS

You were definitely indecisive at first. Meeting a good amount of new colleagues did seem overwhelming, but confidence started building up inside you. You nodded at Maki who waited quite long for your answer. The corners of her mouth curled up before she fixed her gaze back onto her phone. Possibly telling her friends that they can come over. 

It didn’t take longer than a few minutes to start hearing violent knocks on the door. Maki got up from her previous seat and opened the door to be met with a slightly menacing but at the same time shy looking guy. He had blond hair which covered most of his forehead, and was also carrying a large box with him. And behind him was another boy, but wait, why did that guy seem so familiar? Like you had seen him before.

It was confusing, the moment he saw you, he seemed to have freezed as well. Why did he look like the boy you spent your childhood with, why did he look like Yuuta Okkotsu?

The world felt like it was frozen. You both were looking at each other, as if you two were trying to figure something out. Before you could do anything else, the boy spoke.

“Is that you, y/n?”

And there it was, all the confusion in your eyes vanishing into nothingness as it got replaced by an emotion of pure joy. You got up from your mattress, only to embrace your childhood best friend into your arms. You could tear up any second, that’s how happy you felt seeing him again. He had changed so much, his hair which usually rested right above his eyes were now hanging on the sides of his forehead. But his tired eyes remained the same as ever.

The dark haired boy only returned the gesture, wrapping his much larger arms around your body. Even though you couldn’t see his face you could feel him smiling, even from the inside. If you hadn’t teared up by now, he definitely had. 

“I missed you so much.”

He mumbled into your hair, his now shaky voice laced with a hint of excitement and a plethora of happiness. A muffled ‘I missed you too’ could be heard from you, whilst you finally pulled apart, Maki was staring at you both in utmost confusion, and the blonde boy was trying not to laugh at how red hues started appearing on Yuuta's cheeks.

—

After explaining your past with Yuuta to Maki, all four of you sat on the floor to play a game which the blonde boy, Inumaki, was picking from the box he had brought. He pulled out a classic, UNO. Your gaze immediately narrowed towards Yuuta, and he only looked back at you with the same, mischief-filled gaze. When you two were younger, you used to cheat in order to win while playing with other kids. Now that you are together once again, why not pull those silly tricks with your friends?

im incredibly sorry if this chapter isnt up to the mark 😭😭 it was a bit (really) rushed

ill try to think of an uploading schedule so i can write properly w/o worrying abt starving my 27 pookies

mlist . chapters

[my-midnight-musings-xoxo]

Spoilers for MadK!

---

I will never get over how short this manga is! On the one hand, I appreciate the story's length as is, it says everything it needs to and doesn't endlessly drag on. But come on!! Yes, I know we didn't need it, but I would sell a kidney to learn more about Makoto's home life because I'm a masochist and would've loved the pain of learning more about his lack of love from his entire family. His father is obviously awful and I'm glad he died but I want to know more about his mother and brother!! I would've loved to see initial reactions to their son's depravity, I just adore conflict. Imagine Makoto and his brother, I think they were supposed to be opposites with Makoto's brother being a lawyer or doctor? I know it's cliche but I would've liked to see just how isolated Makoto was, perhaps one night he confided in his brother. I like the idea of them always being different but always loving each other, so Makoto goes to him to find comfort, only to be rejected. Perhaps his brother lashes out, maybe he tells their mother and then he's isolated from the family, being told they're son and brother solely in name and blood.

Is it necessary, absolutely not. Is it filler, absolutely. Is it deliciously tragic, yes.

I also would've loved to see Makoto's development of his fetish, I know it's called a kink but from my research kinks aren't always sexual but fetishes are (feel free to correct me if I'm wrong please!) so I'm going to call it that for now because it's always shown in a sexual light, from my interpretation anyways. I would've liked to see the gradual development of his fetish and the complicated feelings that came with it. I adore inner turmoil and I would've loved to see Makoto breaking down as his fetish fully hits him. A slow spiral as he grapples with how disturbed he truly is, then decides to get rid of himself before he hurts anyone. Again I know this isn't necessary, you could argue this would fluff up the plot and I agree, I just think it'd be an interesting extra chapter or something. Psychology has always been interesting to me, especially kinks and fetishes. How they develop, why, common ones, etc. I'm asexual so sex and sexual attraction are often viewed through a scientific lens for me, and honestly, I just find them interesting since I can't really understand them personally!

In a way the first chapter of MadK is comforting, hang on hear me out. I'm not saying J is a good person, but it was clear how safe Makoto felt with him. He summoned J to kill himself and to indulge himself before dying, but even so imagine how good he felt to just let go, to enjoy something he hated himself for enjoying for years. I mean we read it but still. I know that's the point of J's manipulation but it's still acceptance. Considering J wanted to make Makoto like him I like to think J truly accepted the part of Makoto none did. I don't know, I just think that's kind of sweet in a sad way. But that's probably just me projecting ehe.

Anyways! Not sure what I'll post next, J has been on my mind lately so maybe something about his design, it's one of my favorites! Or maybe more hypotheticals, who knows.

Sorry about the random uploads, fixed schedules tend to demotivate me but I'll do my best to be semi consistent, hehe.

Have a good weekend <3

[heelwriting]

Favorite Dinner

Day/Prompt: Day 4 - “Looks like we’re snowed in for the night"

Fandom/Character(s): NJPW / Wrestling / El Phantasmo x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ SMUT (explicit sexual situations) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Wordcount: 658

Summary: Riley and reader where supposed to go out on a date but the snow storm forced them to stay home

@12daysofchristmas Got behind the schedule but i'm uploading now

She had just finished to dress up for her date when she realized Riley was looking outside the house with his brows frowned, he started taking off his coat.

“What happened?”

“Looks like we’re snowed in for the night, sorry babe”

“What? Didn’t you clean the driveway?”

Riley had his hands over his waist and looked at her almost offended.

“I did! But the weather had other plans you know?”

“That’s a bummer, I wanted to go out”

“Guess we’ll have to make our date here”

“I don’t even know if we have enough ingredients to make dinner”

“I hope we can find something because I’m starving”

Opening cabinets.

“Didn’t we go grocery shopping 3 days ago? I can’t even find the pasta”

She was leaning down, the skirt of her dress rolling up, Riley got a peak of her underwear and decided to act in instinct alone.

“Hey, babe I think I’m not that hungry anymore”

“Yeah? Why”

“We could do something else”

He lifted her dress, his hands fully taking her butt pressing himself against her, she could feel he was half hard already, he searched for her lips kissing her while he slowly backed her against de kitchen table, one of his hands was on the back of her head and the other was taking off his belt.

“You need help with that?”

She asked moving her hands touching his hard on through his pants, Riley hissed at the contact.

“Yes, help me”

He whined.

“That’s hot”

She said, Riley lifted an eyebrow.

“You want me to moan out loud? The neighbors are going to hear”

“Maybe I do”

She said as her hands moved to his belt finally letting his dick out of his clothes, she spit on her hand and started gliding up and down his cock all while they kept eye contact, Riley was biting his lip as she got him off but of course he didn’t want to finish like that, he stopped her ministrations.

“As much as I want to cum I want you to cum first, alright?”

“Whatever you want”

Riley pulled down the straps of her dress pulling out her breasts, licking her nipples until they hurt from how stiff they were. His hands started traveling down lifting her to help her sit on the table, he pulled the dress over her body finally realizing it wasn’t needed at this moment, he took the tip of his cock and moved it through her folds and circling her clit before finally entering her, her head fell back feeling him move slowly inside of her.

“You feel so good, baby”

He said when he finally bottomed out.

Kissing her lips and thrusting in and out of her until he found a pleasant rhythm, his hands where on her hips printing his nails on her skin, Riley lifted her legs up changing the angle of their hips and his cock ended up hitting deeper inside of her, he speed up the pace searching for both of their releases, she could feel the temperature of the room changing her body was burning hot, he used his fingers to circle her clit until she came, Riley kept her body from falling back on the table and kept her in place until he finally reached his peak, hugging her he kissed her one last time before carrying her to their shared room.

“Sorry we couldn’t go out baby, hope this made you feel better”

She yawned too exhausted to think.

“It’s ok Riley, there’s always a next time”

“But aren’t you hungry?”

He asked concerned, with all the activity they had completely forgotten to make dinner.

“Not really, I just want to sleep”

Riley nodded and he covered her with a blanket.

“Sleep well my love, I’ll prepare some food for when you wake up”

He said and kissed her forehead before going back to the kitchen to fix what they had done before.

[demonkinguwu]

FANFICTION PROGRESS

This is an update since I'm back in a mental space where I can start writing again. [A bit of my personal thoughts at the end] I am continuing all of my current fics, none will be abandoned but some will be on a long hiatus before I get to them, so I'm sorry for the delay on those, but I'll most likely fix the aus they are based on. Now for the statuses of those:

The Witch Bride and The Groom Ghost: I will most definitely be finishing this one in the next coming year, I have been plotting it out and have all the chapter drafts finished. However, I will most likely be moving the chapter upload from once a week to once every two weeks due to the chapter length [boy they are long jdsknf] and my work schedule picking up. Art will added later on.

Subcon Waltz: This will most likely take a while for me to revisit, mostly because I am plotting out the chapters and reworking most of it, no drafts have been done as of yet but I have a pretty good idea of where the story is headed. Plus this has been a story I've been wanting to get back to since it's been in the works for so long, it's a nice mix of the fairytale tropes, horror, and that good old Subcon dark humor lol. I really come to love it :>

How To Be a Loving Family: This is definitely one that will take me the longest to get back to work with due to the amount of rework that I'll do with the AU. A lot of it going to change from what I had in mind but it's for the sake of feeling comfortable with it. That said, once again, the current chapters will be reworked a little at a later point once I have a clear idea of the reworked AU.

I'm also working on 2 new fics not yet to be announced but they're being worked on behind the scenes on occasion. Thank you so much for sticking with me on these, your kudos and comments are appreciated!

A bit of a personal journey with writing these fics

Last year hit me pretty hard, I experienced big-time burnout. I wasn't really capable of doing much that I felt I like doing artwise, especially with writing. I only did doodles on discord but aside from the occasional post, not much else.

Back then, rereading my old writing, my old rps from the old servers I was in, I just cringed at how bad I was. I don't consider myself a good writer, heck even now I'm so-so on my writing, but reading back on my old stuff, man I feel like I kissed a lemon dkjnfddf I was pretty bad and writing felt off to me since then. I did still do private oneshots but I couldn't get back to writing these series. The thing about the Hat Mom AU and the Subcon Waltz AU fics being felt in the dust was that I wasn't as invested in A hat in time much, it was just a mix of my hyperfixation on the series dying off, the fics not being ironed and plotted out properly [Literally didn't plan a thing on Subcon Waltz and just winged it out impluse] and the fandom drama had drained me [Yeah, remember the whole Vanessa hating asks I got? Yeah those certainly didn't help with my mood at the time]

The only reason I got back into writing at all was due to how invested I grew in TGOGM but it didn't have that many fics at the time so I decided to throw my hat into the ring with my own au. By then I learned how to properly plan out chapters and writing and remembered I was just doing this for fun, I wasn't being paid to do this so I could take my time with this.

Eventually, I applied this mindset to my other fics and aus once I got back into ahit, these are my aus/fics, I can rewrite them if I don't like them. So that's what I'm doing right now, just taking the hammer, smashing stuff and just fixing them into something I like. Because at the end of the day, I'm not really a popular artist nor have a grand story everyone is invested in, I'm just a silly little creator with my own silly ideas that I choose to share with the world. If they like it, then poggers!!! I will cry and sob for weeks over a nice comment dkjnfds If not, well, I like this, and maybe one day someone else will too :>

I know this is long but I just needed to share my thoughts out there alongside telling you guys they're not dead, they're just being fixed with the hammer lol :> If you read this far, thank you for reading this madness fdnjf I'll try to get these to a place a like while taking my time in doing so uwu

[osarina]

I didn't want to comment my reply again on the civilian dazai fic but OMG FYO IT WAS REALLY GOOD

I will say it deffo felt much light hearted and had a friday fellthan waterloo and even wykyk but I think that's cause the ✨️drama✨️ btwn them hadn't started yet and also the fact that I know they aren't doomed by the narrative (you) this time 💀

But I am liking the way it is going it already has me hooked and I am so very excited 😊 and God damn I LOVE love the reader so much. She's much more badass and ahhhh dazai is so cute and pathetic I lub him <3

Also fun fact after my 3 hour exam and after 2 sleepless nights, I did the exam well and came rushing home and held myself to read this awesomeness before sleeping for like 8 hours straight. When I woke up I read it again not in a sleepy haze to get the full experience XD that's how much I love your quality top notch fics

I think the reader's ability is a great and beautiful choice. It's not overpowering to change the plot or invite plot holes but powerful enough to impact everyday life. It really keeps me asking if the reader is using her ability on a certain situation or not and I really love that feature.

Anyways hope your life is going well 😊 and dont forget to eat healthily

P.s. : Do you have a fixed schedule to upload wasteland like waterloo or is it not fixed? And sorry for making the asks so long 😅

TUMBLR USER SILVERSNOW2000 HELLO MY LOVE I ADORE YOU, YOU NEVER HAVE TO APOLOGIZE FOR SENDING LONG ASKS I LOVE THEM

AHHHHHH I'M SO GLAD U ENJOYED IT ive had soooooo much fun writing civzai and pmreader. IT'S DEFINITELY MUCH MORE LIGHTHEARTED THAN ANY OF THE OTHER SERIES SO FAR but don't worry the drama starts in the next chapter LOLLLL and it doesn't slow down from there. THEY DON'T DIE THO i feel like i have to say this every time LOLLLLL

YESSSSS PM READER IS SO FUN TO WRITE like she's alwaysssss fun to write but it's particularly fun being able to write her from the viewpoint of dazai as a civilian who isn't like used to seeing her already. like she's very similar in the original universe but dazai has known her for so long there that he's become used to her yk, meanwhile this dazai sees her in a very fresh light if u get what i mean. it's the change in perspective that's so fun to write here

AND OMG IM GLAD - i was so conflicted about how to phrase/what to make her ability because i didn't want to make it too op but at the same time .. she's a port mafia executive, she needs to have a pretty notable ability, and then i was like wait ... her whole thing is politics and negotiations, so obviously it has to be something along the lines of fucking with ppl's minds/brains, but i needed to obviously whittle that down because mind control is just too ridiculous, so i got the idea of her being able to like induce emotions + states onto people BUT they're able to draw themselves out of it if they have the strength for it.

some things are easier to brush off, but other things aren't. like she can put people to sleep with her ability and they can't really drag themselves out of that because now they're sleeping, and inducing fear in particular is pretty hard for people to draw themselves out of because it spirals quickly. but for negotiations and stuff, when she's making them feel as if she's more trustworthy/more susceptible to taking bad terms, she has to be SO careful & calculated with her every word because any small thing could make them double take and jar them out of the induced state.

actually, in civzai universe, it's going to be really interesting because without dazai there to stop chuuya from using corruption, reader and chuuya had to figure out a way to knock him out of it themselves - which they DID and it involves her ability but it's SOOOO dangerous for her so they end up not really using corruption often. this actually comes up in the next chapter

i dont have a set schedule! i'm going to shoot for every other friday max though!

[my-name-is-markus-with-a-k]

prime numbers for the gif-maker asks? 👀

2. Least favourite set? Oh, I'm sorry but I don't want to answer that 😅 I've deleted any I really don't like, but I will say there's a set that keeps popping up in my notifs where I'm like 'really, that one again???' But that's all I will say. People like what they like.

3. The set with the most notes? This one with 1559 notes. I'm happy with that, it's a good set. The ones with Connor in them tend to do well.

5. Favourite movie/tv show to gif? dbh is my main fandom so yeah, dbh but more specifically, Markus. I just love giffing him, it's almost therapeutic at this stage.

7. Who are my top 3 gifmakers? @thirium @aghostinmyownmachine @mijchi for dbh gifs and also shout out to @babyjapril who is not a dbh giffer but her gifs are always incredible (sorry for the random tag ana).

11. One set I made that just won't die? I legitimately don't know what this means lol

13. Where and/or from whom did you learn to gif? I'm mostly self-taught but I have relied on a few tutorials here and there.

17. How many gifs do you prefer in a set? I guess 2? That's how many I usually make in a set, so that must be my preference. I do like a 4 set too though.

19. What I'd my giffing process like? Very on the fly, lol. I check to see if I have the footage I want, if I don't I screen record the scene I need. I upload that into ps, trim the clip to what I need, change the speed and crop. Then I brighten and colour them to whatever I'm feeling at the time. I always sharpen last. It's what takes the longest and I sometimes have to finick with the settings a bit until it looks nice on tumblr.

23. What's the thing you gif when you don't have anything else to gif? Take a wild guess. It's my boy ofc

29. Have you ever posted a set, realised you made a mistake later but realised it was too late? Oh yes many a time. Usually on sets with text and I made a typo. That's happens pretty often 😅 I usually go back and fix them anyway but then the old versions still get reblogged lol

31. Do you schedule/queue posts or do you post as soon as you're done? I usually post when I'm done. If I'm not really happy with a set, I'll save them to drafts and look at them later. If I decide they're actually OK, I'll post them, if not, I redo them. But I don't schedule posts, I'm too impatient.

37. What sets do you have planned to make in the future? There are a few sets I'm waiting to do when my skills catch up to my visions. But right now? There's a quote gifset I want to make with Markus but it will require time I just don't have right now.

41. Least favourite part of the gifmaking process? Oh my god, uploading to tumblr. I never really know what gifs are going to look good. Sometimes I'll spend ages on a set, upload to tumblr and it look like ass, so I have to redo the whole thing. It's infuriating.

43. Do you keep videos or delete them once you're done giffing? I keep them unless I need the space. I'm pretty lazy like that hahaha

47. Any advice for novice gif makers/people who want to start making gifs? Gif tutorials are your friend. I'm mostly self-taught but whenever I get really stuck, I search for gif tutorials. They are incredibly helpful.

That... was a lot of questions and I had to google prime numbers like a chump because I could only remember prime numbers up to 20 lmao