#~i have to sit down and work on the muse pages a bit either this weekend or after work this week

[feraecor]

i paused the queue for a few days so that i could fill it a bit but of course not with replies cause that would mean i was productive

[emeraldserenade]

The Love On These Pages ~ Joaquin Torres

synopsis: you were struggling to find something that inspired you enough to draw, that was until you started noticing the stranger that frequents the same coffee shop as you.

tw: fem!reader, limited use of y/n, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

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You were trying, you had invoice after invoice piling up at home. You just couldn't get yourself to draw, let alone paint someone else's request. You needed to, you promised your costumers that you would have it to them. It wasn't your only source of income, but you did need the extra money if you were to be able to afford rent and all your other necessities.

"And a strawberry danish, please," the sound of a male's voice made you look up. It was quite quiet in the coffee shop, and you knew a lot of the regulars since you were here a bit. You, however, had never seen him before. His tan skin and dark curls drew your attention, the pretty smile you saw him give the barista was just the cherry on top. You quickly looked down as he turned your way, hoping he didn't see you staring.

"y/n!" The male barista called your name from behind the counter, your pastry that you ordered less than 3 minutes ago in his hand.

"Thank you," you gave him a shy smile as he handed you the plate. As you walked back over to your table, you noticed the stranger sitting at the table just next to yours.

You watched as Joaquin, as you learned was his name from the barista calling it out, walk to get his pastry and you were suddenly hit with inspiration.

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You brought your personal sketchbook along with the current drawing you were finishing for your last invoice before you started accepting more. You felt more like yourself lately, the inspiration from watching Joaquin just be himself in the coffee shop. You gently hummed along to the song that played in the coffee shop, you were alone at the moment, the baristas being the only other one's there. The bell on the door chimed, causing you to look up. You saw it was Joaquin and went back to working on the drawing.

"Can I sit here?" Joaquin asked you and you looked up confused.

"Uh," you took a look around at the empty cafe. "Yeah, sure," you pulled your personal sketchbook closer to you so he could sit across from you.

"You're y/n, right?" Joaquin questioned.

"Yeah, you're Joaquin, you get a lightly sweetened coffee and either a strawberry or blueberry danish," you rambled, face flushing when you realized what you said.

"Yeah, I do!" His smile lit up his whole face you suddenly felt better about rambling. "What are you drawing?"

"Oh, it's a commissioned piece. From what I gathered it's of a bayou in someone's childhood backyard," you explained. Gently spinning the canvas around to show Joaquin the drawing. "I still have to take it home and paint it, but this is almost done," you let him look at him for a while before spinning it back to you.

"Do you only do commissioned work?"

"No, I draw for myself when I have the right inspiration," you told him, pushing your sketchbook towards him and opening to the marked page. It was just the view you had from your bedroom window, but you were proud of it.

"That's amazing," Joaquin reached for your book, stopping to look at you for confirmation that he can grab it. You let him, spacing on the fact that you had drawn him, and let him flip through the pages while you packed up some of the extra supplies you had out. "I like these one specifically," Joaquin told you and you looked up, suddenly very aware you had drawn him.

"Oh," you paused, staring at the sketches you have done. "I hope you don't think these are weird," you told him, gently grabbing your book from him.

"Not at all, I'm proud to be your muse," he assured you. "I can see the love on these pages," Joaquin pointed to the book in your hands with a smile. "Would you like me to pose for one? I can get the suit too," he offered.

"If you're ok with it, sure," you bashfully told him, hoping he wouldn't change his mind.

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"Are you sure you're comfortable with this?" You wrung your hands together, Joaquin was sitting on your living room chair while you had your paints in front of you. He had put on his Falcon attire to give you something 'more excited than sweatpants and a hoodie to draw' as he said.

"All I have to do is sit here and look pretty, and how hard can that be? You do it without trying all the time," Joaquin told you, your face flushing at his words.

"Ok, if you're sure," you told him before setting to work on your painting.

You started with just an outline of how he was sitting, he was facing away from you and towards the tv. You let him watch it as you worked so he would have to get bored, it worked in your favor because you got to paint his side profile. You hummed with the music of the movie, working hard to get his likeness with your painting.

"How's it going?" Joaquin turned to face you after the first movie ended.

"Look back at the tv," you hummed, making him laugh.

"Yes, ma'am," he looked back at the tv.

"And to answer your question, it's going fine," you replied.

By the end of the third movie, you had finished it for the time being. You didn't have all the details but you had the suit details.

"You can change now, I can't image that suit is very comfortable to sit in for so long," you told him, making him look at you.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I got the details of it. Now it's just the details of your hair and face that I need to work on," you told him, gently grabbing the canvas to spin it to him.

"Wow," he breathed out as he moved closer. "Let me change and then we can have a personal one on one session to make sure you really get the details of my hair and face," Joaquin's innuendo made your face flush.

"Joaquin!" You exclaimed, making him laugh at your shy demeanor.

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Masterlist | Requests

[hayakawalove]

Wanna Make a Bet?

A/N: N/A

Summary: With your two boyfriends, life was never boring. A bet is made to see who can last the longest without sex.

TW: Teasing, spit play, polyamory, gojos a shit, cunnilingus, anal sex, fem reader, AFAB reader W/C: 4,170

It was hazy how all of this started, really. You were sure Satoru was the one who came up with the idea. It certainly wasn’t you, and it wouldn’t have been Suguru. 

The three of you sat in the bedroom, mindlessly doing your own things. You lay in between Suguru’s legs, head resting on his lower stomach. Your knees were propped up, giving Satoru a nice plush pillow to rest against. Suguru was reading while you played on your phone. You weren’t sure what Satoru was doing, but then again you never knew what he was up to. 

A video played on your phone and you were half paying attention. All of a sudden you felt a soft bite against your thigh. You peered around your phone to look at Satoru. His face was turned over as he bit into your skin, a low groan leaving his lips. 

“Satoru, really? We were having a nice moment.” You murmured. 

“This is a nice moment too, isn’t it?” He responded cooly, inching closer to the area between your legs with his mouth. 

You dropped your phone against your stomach and ran your fingers through his fluffy hair. It was nice laying down with both of them. It was often hard to get all of you alone at the same time. 

“You’re just always horny.” Suguru mused, turning the page. 

“Am not!” Satoru quickly retaliated, his words being muffled by your skin. 

“Are too. Probably couldn’t last a week without sex.” You said. 

“Okay, that’s dramatic. I could last a week.” He exclaimed.

You tilted your head back to look at Suguru. He met your eyes with a soft grin. Neither of you believed the blue eyed menace. 

“Don’t do that! Come on guys, believe me!”

You hummed at Satoru, plucking Suguru’s book from his hands, sliding his bookmark in it. 

“Fine. Wanna play a game? Let’s see who can last a week without sex, and the winner gets whatever they want from the losers. If two people give in and initiate it then they both lose, but if one person gives in to initiate it then they lose.” Satoru announced. 

You and Suguru agreed half heartedly, knowing Gojo wasn’t gonna last. 

And that’s how you ended up starting the bet. It had been several days, and honestly it was torture. You knew Satoru was gonna tease you, he’s always been that way. 

It seemed his favorite tactic was to walk around the house without a shirt on just to tease you. It honestly didn’t get to you too much, not at first at least. But one night in particular made you almost give in. Satoru had come home after working out and pulled his shirt off in the living room. His skin was flushed pink from exertion and you could hear him softly pant. He had to grab your chin in order to get your attention back to what he was saying. 

“Gonna give in bunny?” He taunted. 

You smacked his hand away and sighed. That was that. You weren’t going to give in so easy. You could almost taste victory. 

You expected Satoru to tease you, you really did. What you didn’t expect was for Suguru to tease you too. You thought the both of you were going to gang up on Satoru and make him give in first, but it seemed Suguru had other plans. 

It wasn’t like anything he did was intense. It was just lingering touches, stolen glances. But somehow each moment made your heart race, images of the last time you had sex flashing in your brain. 

You weren’t without your tricks either though. Shoko and Utahime offered to take you out on Saturday night, a girls night they said. You knew they were gonna go off as soon as you got to the club anyway, preferring to make out with each other instead but you didn’t mind. It was still fun to go dancing. 

Donning your tightest dress and a face of makeup, you strutted out of the bathroom. The two men were sitting on the couch watching an indiscrimate show. 

“Alright guys, I’ll see you later tonight. I’ll make sure to call if I need anything.” You tossed over your shoulder, sliding your heels on. 

Satoru stops mid sentence talking to Suguru and peered over at you, eyes widening at your get up. 

The dress covered all the necessary bits, but if you leaned over anyone would get a free show. And the heels, fuck, the heels made your legs go on for days. 

Neither of them cared how you dressed. In fact, sometimes they liked when you wore things like this. They liked the idea of you turning someone down, just so the sorry loser could feel jealous for what’s not theirs. 

“Damn bunny.” Satoru leaned back against the couch, drinking you in. 

Suguru was more subtle in the way he looked at you. He noticed the way you did your hair. It was his favorite style, and you knew it. 

“Looks good right?” You said, giving them a twirl. 

Satoru’s eyes dropped to your ass and Suguru watched the way your chest juts out. 

“You look perfect baby.” Suguru looked up at your face. 

You leaned down, placing a kiss on each of the boys cheek. They try to avoid looking down your dress but failed miserably. Satoru almost snapped when he saw your lack of bra, your nipples pressing against the thin fabric. Suguru knocked his knee against Satoru’s, bringing Satoru back to reality. 

He would’ve jumped your bones then and there if not for his much calmer counter part. 

You bid them farewell and depart on your night out. You were almost sad that neither of them gave in, but you thought there might be other ways to get them to give in. Like you predicted, Shoko and Utahime disappeared after the first hour but you still had fun dancing alone. 

Four days had passed since that dreadful conversation. You were beginning to curse your past self for making the dumb decision to agree to the stupid bet. Everytime you tried to remind yourself that there was only a couple days left, one of the boys would do something that got you worked up. 

Satoru was out of the house, likely trying to finish up work. You and Suguru were home alone, standing in the kitchen making chatter. There was a lull in the conversation where you both just rested against the counter. Suguru wore one of his tight white button ups, accentuating his muscles. You couldn’t even blame him for wearing it. It was his usual work attire, but it was making you go crazy. 

“This whole bet is stupid, don’t you think?” You say in passing, looking at his arms. 

“Yeah, didn’t think it was gonna be this hard.” He comments. 

Your eyes flick up to search his face. Your feet move instantly, bringing you over to him. Your lips are the first to touch before you feel his heavy hands press against your body. Suguru pushes you against the wall, pressing his lips against yours. You felt like he was simultaneously breathing life into you, while also stealing your oxygen. Suguru’s tongue intertwined with yours, spit swapping between you two. 

Your fingers grip into his shirt, pulling him down closer into you. He pushes you against the wall so hard it almost feels like you’re going to fuse with it. One of his hands wraps against your lower waist while the other sneaks up your back. 

You feel his boner in his pants brushing against your leg and you can’t deny the way your underwear seeps with need. Why did you have to make this stupid bet? You thought you could do it, but your restraint was slowly slipping. 

“Suguru” you moan breathily. 

You feel him take a deep breath, your lip caught between his teeth. 

“I know baby.” He sighs. 

Suguru pulls away and looks down at you. You had never seen his eyes so lust filled before. His hands grip against you tighter. 

“Come to the bedroom with me.”

“But what about-“

Suguru cuts you off with a kiss. You heart flutters in response and you can feel heat spread over your cheeks. 

“We don’t have to have sex. Wanna watch you make yourself cum.” The brashness of his words catch you off guard. 

Suguru grabs your hand and pulls you along to your bedroom. Your fingers itched to roam over his body, but you really wanted Satoru to lose the bet. 

He gently sits you on the bed before pulling a chair up close to you. Your heart pounds in your ears while you rip the clothes off your body at speeds unseen before. Suguru’s eyes analyze each of your movements, wanting to savor each inch of skin you reveal. His hands fumble with his pants before pulling his cock out. It was so hard it was bordering on painful. He couldn’t remember the last time he went this long without sex. He never needed to, not when he had two sexy partners waiting for him at home. 

You slide your underwear down your thighs, spreading your legs. A rush of cold air brushes against your pussy, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Go on baby.” Suguru’s voice edges on obscene, desire clearly dripping from every syllable. 

You press you finger pad against your clit, a sharp intake of air gracing the room. Suguru takes hold of his cock, smearing his precum down his shaft, making it easier to glide his palm against the sensitive skin. 

You watch through hooded eyes at the way Suguru strokes his cock for you. It was almost unfair how beautiful he was, in everything he did. Your finger speeds up, your thighs shaking on either side of you. 

The noises of your slick pussy fill the room. You craved Suguru’s skin on yours, along with Satoru’s. Your boys made you feel so good each time they touched you, and your body was addicted. 

Suguru’s thumb swirls around his tip, his brows furrowing in response as he watches your hand. He never considered himself an impatient man, not nearly as much as Satoru. But the more he thought about it the more he thought that he must be. 

Your mouth drops open as soft moans escape you. You could feel Suguru’s eyes sear into you, making your hole clench around nothing. 

You don’t even notice your front door swing open. The noise reverberates through the house, but you and Suguru are too focused on each other to pay it any mind. 

“I’m home!” Satoru’s voice fills the hall. 

He notices your absence in the living room so he makes his way to your bedroom. The schlick schlick schlick noises were ones he was well acquainted with. A devilish grin spreads across his lips as he grabs the door frame, swinging inside. 

“Ah hah! I knew I would beat you guys! What’re you doing?” He boasts before coming to a stop, seeing that you aren’t touching each other. 

“Not having sex.” Suguru grunts in response, eyes trained on your body. 

“Close enough! I win!” 

Suguru didn’t feel like explaining to Satoru the difference. 

“No it’s not. Now come in and join or leave.” Suguru orders. 

The tough tone sends a tingle over Satoru’s skin. He swallows the lump that settled in his throat, tearing his eyes off Suguru. The air in the room somehow became stifling. He watches you work deftly against yourself, your needy moans sounding like pure lust. 

Satoru drags a chair beside Suguru’s and settles down in it. A low buzz of excitement swims underneath his skin. It takes him a bit before he can rid himself of the clothes he wore, the clothing not coming off fast enough. It didn’t take him long to get hard. The second he heard the noises coming from the room, he could already feel his dick twitch. 

Satoru wraps a hand around his cock and moves it down. A moan falls from his parted lips as he watches you. 

He didn’t know who to focus on. On one side he had Suguru, legs spread and heavy cock in hand. You laid in front of him, body withering while you brought yourself pleasure. It almost hurt how fast he darted his eyes back and forth between you two. 

You open your eyes and whimper seeing Satoru join in. They both watch you as your finger rubs against your clit. 

“Fuck, Suguru how long have you guys been doing this? How haven’t you touched her yet?” 

“Some of us have some self control.” Suguru answers, a teasing lilt to his voice. He speaks as if he wasn’t two seconds away from taking you. 

Satoru opens his mouth to give a smart response back, but the words die in his throat. He quickly finds himself distracted at the way your breasts rise and fall, laborious breaths falling from your lips. He watches the way your finger swirls around your clit, a sight so tempting he wasn’t sure he could resist any longer. 

Satoru moans and grips himself tighter. He desperately needed to touch you. To hell with the bet. 

He launches himself forward, landing in between your legs. You gasp and pull your hand away. Satoru looks like a madman in front of you, pupils blown wide while he eyes your pussy. Suguru slows down, rubbing himself languidly. 

“Satoru, the-“ you start. 

“Fuck that. Need to taste you.” He groans seeing your pussy up close in his face. 

You open your mouth to speak, but all rational thought leaves your brain as you feel his tongue lick one fat stripe from your hole to your clit. You moan out, gripping the sheets below you. It hadn’t been very long since you had sex last, but it felt so good it was like you were going to melt in the bed. 

“O-only you lose.” You murmur, watching as Satoru grips your legs and throws them over his shoulder. 

You think he grumbles an agreement, but you can’t understand him over the sound of your pussy covering his lips. 

You look up at Suguru and see him pick up the pace again. Your hands reach out and he immediately understands, standing up to make his way over to you. Suguru kneels beside your head and leans down, pressing his lips against yours. Your moans melt in his mouth as pleasure flows through you. Each time one of them touched you, it felt like a shock to your system. Satoru sucks your clit, drinking you up. The air in the room felt hot, smoldering. 

“Taste so good bunny, always do just for me. Fuck, could be down here all day-“ Satoru babbles, drunk on your pussy without having even been inside you. 

Suguru toys with your mouth, tongue gliding against yours. His hand lifts up and slides down your body. He grips onto Satoru’s head, shoving his face down against you again, silencing him once more. Satoru graciously accepts, sliding his tongue through your sticky folds. He traces against your clit and feels you tense up. Suguru keeps a hand on Satoru’s head, refusing to let either of you up for air. His mouth suffocates you, making your head dizzy. 

You tap his shoulder rapidly trying to signal your oncoming orgasm and he pulls back, looking deep into your eyes. He watches you through messy bangs, watching you tremble and shake beneath him. 

“Gonna cum baby? Feels good?” 

“Yes- oh fuck, fuck!” You shudder. 

“Yeah?” He breathes out heavily, his voice dripping with pleasure as he watches you. 

“Yes, yes!” You cry. 

Right as you were about to cum, all sensation immediately stopped. Suguru had yanked Satoru away from you. You weren’t sure who whined more, you or him. 

“Please please please Suguru, wanna cum, make me cum!” You find yourself begging, tears threatening to spill. 

You beg him to let you cum even if he wasn’t the one touching you. He had all the power, after all. 

Suguru’s eyes gleam at your request and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. Without tearing his eyes from you, he orders Satoru. 

“Lay down on the bed Satoru.” 

Satoru scrambles to his feet, practically flopping on the bed beside you. His long legs stretch out in front of him, hanging off the bed. Suguru runs his palm down the side of your face, placing his thumb on your bottom lip and dragging it down. Your insides were turned to mush, all capable thought long gone. 

“Why don’t you go make yourself comfortable on his face.” Suguru tells you in a more soft, hushed tone. 

He always did like bossing Satoru around more, and preferred to use a gentle but firm hand with you. 

You nod eagerly and turn around, crawling towards Satoru. Hot puffs of air flow between your legs as you situate yourself on top. Satoru was always extremely eager, it was endearing. He gave his all in everything he did and that only made sex with him all the more better. You lower yourself down and feel Satoru immediately attach his mouth back on you, a groan of relief reverberating through his chest. 

Suguru shuffles around to grab a bottle of lube before returning, sliding in between Satoru’s spread legs. You watch Satoru’s leg muscles relax under the gentle graze of Suguru’s hands. Their love had always been something so pure, you felt extremely lucky they let you in on something so perfect. Your mouth parts as Satoru goes down on you, his tongue gliding through your folds, making a home inside your aching hole. 

You watch as Suguru spreads Satoru’s legs, pouring lube on his hard cock and Satoru’s tight hole. It was hard to tear your eyes away from the erotic sight. Satoru stutters and jumps once he feels Suguru press into him. The stretch was never bad, always blurring between the lines of unbearable and just right. Suguru presses in further, not stopping until his body meets Satoru. If Satoru’s mouth wasn’t glued to you, you would be able to hear his moaning. 

Suguru pulls out slightly, then guides his way back in. He always liked starting off slow before ultimately wrecking either of you. Suguru was a man who liked to take his time, and you never had a problem with it. 

Satoru, on the other hand, did. 

You watch as Satoru spreads his legs even wider, trying to force his hips down to gain more of Suguru. You could hear something that resembles a whine between your legs. You weren’t sure how you ended up with both the most patient man to exist, and the man who probably doesn’t even know what the word patience means. 

“Always so greedy.” Suguru murmurs under his breath. 

He slams his hips forward with more force and you watch as Satoru’s whole body shakes from the impact. Satoru’s long fingers fly up to grab onto your thighs, pulling you down harder against his face. He glides his tongue around, pressing against your clit. 

Heavy breathing turns into moans as Satoru builds you back up again. Ever the needy one, you reach forward for Suguru. Your lips clash against each other. Suguru keeps one hand on Satoru while he fucks him, using his other hand to grab your face. Giving in had never felt so good before. 

While kissing, Suguru blindly reaches for one of your hands, pulling it forward to hold Satoru’s cock. Once your hand makes contact, you feel as Satoru’s body twists in pleasure. You slide your hand down, trying to pay attention to his cock. It was already wet and twitching in need. 

The room was a mess of salacious sounds. Lips smacking, body’s slapping, and quiet groaning. 

You pull back, peering up at Suguru. One of your hands rests against Satoru’s stomach while the other works hard at making his cock feel good. The height difference between you and Suguru wasn’t extreme as the bed evened it out. He locks eyes with you, watching your face twist in pleasure. 

“S-suguru,” 

“Hm?” He hums back, his cock working at Satoru’s insides. 

“Want you to spit in my mouth.” You drunkly request. 

Suguru cocks an eyebrow, looking taken aback by your request. 

“Is that right baby?” 

“Yes, please.” You find yourself begging, your eyes half lidded. 

Suguru’s lips tilt up in a smile while he leans forward, hips slowing to a stop. Satoru whines but you pay him no mind. Suguru grabs your cheeks, pulling you forward. Your pussy rises off Satoru and you can hear him complain. 

“What the hell Suguru? I was doing something.”

You watch with wide eyes as Suguru lets spit dribble from his lips onto your waiting tongue. You groan once it hits your tastebuds. 

“Shit.” Satoru says breathlessly. 

He watches as your pussy clenches around air, getting a front row seat at the way Suguru made you feel. 

“Yeah?” Suguru asks louder, speaking to Satoru. 

His eyes remain on you. He never knew you would be into something like that. Not that he didn’t know you were secretly nasty. 

“Be a good girl for me and keep that on your tongue, don’t swallow.” Suguru speaks quietly to you. 

Your chest heaves at the way you felt. It felt like you were on fire. 

“Think you can do that for me baby?” 

You nod, careful to leave your mouth propped open so Suguru could make sure you followed his order. 

Suguru begins to start fucking Satoru again while you sit back down, his tongue quickly finding its way back to you. It was hard to moan with your mouth wide open, the sound somehow sounding more debauched than before. You tried to rub Satoru’s cock the best you could, but it was hard to think with the heavy cloud of lust over your head. 

Satoru sucks your clit into his mouth, the action causing a jolt through your system. Suguru must’ve been able to see it in your face. 

“Wanna cum baby?” His hushed voice asks. 

You moan staring up at him, a mixture of your saliva and his beginning to drip down from your tongue, landing on Satoru’s pale skin below you. 

“Swallow that, hm? Don’t wanna make a mess out of Satoru just yet.” 

You quickly shut your mouth, drinking up Suguru’s spit like it was the most divine flavor you’ve ever tasted. 

Suguru groans at the sight, slamming into Satoru. The force causes Satoru to move up, his cock pressing into your hand. 

Your whole body shivers in pleasure, you couldn’t keep it in much longer. 

“Alright, cum for us baby.” Suguru says your name so sweetly you almost forgot the pretense it was under. 

A sob racks your body as Satoru continues devouring you, and you cum powerfully on his tongue. Satoru moans at the taste, quickly swallowing up everything you give him. You see Suguru’s shoulders tense up as he watches you cum and it takes everything in you not to collapse. 

Satoru looks pathetic under you, getting pounded into by your shared boyfriend. You speed up your hand, desperate to watch him cum. You see Satoru’s legs shake out of the corner of your eye and hear a loud whine from beneath you. Satoru’s cock twitches underneath your hand, cum shooting out on top of his stomach. 

Your hips shake, eager to see Suguru spill inside Satoru. Sweat lines his forehead, a show of his hard work. Suguru swears under his breath before squeezing his eyes shut, his cum flowing deep inside Satoru. 

You attempt to catch your breath but fail miserably as you trip over yourself. It always blew your mind at how good sex was with the two. Each time seemed better than the last. 

Suguru slowly slides out of Satoru and reaches out a hand, helping you crawl off of the other man. You weren’t sure how you looked, but you knew you looked better than Satoru. He looked like a mess under you, your cum smearing his face, his cum covering his body, and Suguru’s sweeping out from his asshole. He had a sex drunk look on his face and you weren’t sure you’d be able to snap him out of it. 

“Satoru.” Suguru ushers, leaning over and patting Satoru’s face. 

“Hm? I’m good, just give me a minute.” Satoru breathes out, closing his eyes. 

You giggle and throw your arms around Suguru, kissing him. This kiss was much more sweet and tender, filling your body with warmth. 

“I love you.” You say against his lips. 

“I love you too.” He smiles. 

“Hey, what about my love?” Satoru quips, slowly sitting up and looking at the cum slide down his body. 

You and Suguru place a kiss on each side of his face. 

A thought pops up in your brain. 

“What’re you gonna do for us since you lost?” You ask. 

“After that? Anything you want.”

[plussizefantasia]

Could you do Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader? With fluff promt “I just really want to kiss you right now” Thanks!! :))

Benedict Bridgerton x wife!reader

Summary: Benedict gets inspired by his muse at any time of day.

Word Count : 0.9k

A/N: Thank you for the request, I've never written for Ben before. I hope I did your idea justice <3

It was not the first time you had woken up to your bed being empty and your husband’s side having long gone cold. You realized mere weeks into your marriage that the artist’s spirit was one that never truly rested. Benedict could be inspired at any moment and he was not one to wait until morning to work.

The light that streamed in from the window grazed your face and started to pull you gently from sleep’s embrace. You did not open your eyes yet, dearly wishing to have one more moment to cherish the night before having to greet the day. Your arms stretch above your head and you pull them out to your side, reaching for your love. You chuckle when you feel nothing and open your eyes to search for him.

Your eyes scan over the empty spot that used to hold your husband, at least you knew he had slept a little last night. The two of you had fallen asleep in each other’s arms and you had waited until his breathing had evened out to succumb to sleep.

Your husband was sweet, but you knew that he had no regard for himself. You wonder if this is a trait all artists share or if it is Bridgerton trait. You’d have to ask Kate the next time you saw her if Anthony also had a tendency to burn the midnight oil or if you were just lucky enough to get the restless brother.

You pull the sheets down to your waist and begin to sit up when a cough from the corner of the room catches your attention.

There, in your favorite reading chair sits your husband. Benedict is still in his night clothes, and the ties on his shirt have fallen open exposing more of his chest to your greedy eyes than was available before you went to bed. Clutched in his hand is a sketch pad and some charcoal. His hands are stained and the closer you look you also notice streaks of black across his forehead. He is staring deeply at you.

“Do not move my love, I am inspired.”

You laugh lightly, “When are you not inspired, dear husband?”

“How can I not be always inspired when my muse walks the same halls as I? When I wake up to beautiful sights like this I cannot help but feel the need to catch them on the page.” He nods towards you, still lounging in bed.

“You’re a flatterer and a flirt.”

“Ony for you my love.”

“How long am I to be trapped here?” You ask him.

“You vowed until death do us part.”

“I did,  and I fully intend to honor that vow, but do you truly wish for me to waste away in bed?” 

“You look far too beautiful to be wasting.”

You raised an eyebrow at the love of your life. 

“Just stay there for a few more moments my love, I’m almost finished.” He told you.

You tried to stay still for him, assuming the same position you woke up in, or as close to it as you could get. The room filled with the sounds of scratching on paper and the breaths that came from either of you. You jest with him, but you would gladly waste away in bed if it meant being able to watch Benedict for the rest of your time. The sight of your husband creating masterpieces was one that you loved dearly. Unfortunately Ben didn’t really like people watching him work, this was a rare treat indeed.

“Ben?” You called from your spot on the bed.

“Yes Love?” He did not look up from his paper.

“I do not think I can wait much longer.”

“And whyever not?” His lips spread into a grin and he looked up into your eyes.

“I just really want to kiss you right now.” You bit your bottom lip lightly and smiled at him.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” He stood and placed the paper and coal on the seat. He slowly made his way closer to where you lie in wait. “My lovely wife needs to be kissed does she?” He asked you, climbing onto the bed and hovering over you.

“She does.” You nodded. “I fear she might not survive much longer without one.”

“We cannot have that, who shall inspire me if she is not with me?” He drew his face closer to yours, rubbing his nose along yours.

“Ben please,” you whispered.

“How I love to hear you beg.” He smiled into your neck, where he began to pepper small kisses. 

‘I do not think that I was beg-” he silenced you with a kiss. It was slow and filled with love, your lips dancing with each other perfectly. 

You sat up without breaking the kiss, twisting yourself so that the two of you were intertwined. 

Mornings like these were a rare treat indeed.

[3ardnpc]

Drawings

summary: You buy Grogu art supplies.

word count: 678

tags: pure fluff, gn!reader, crayons exist in the sw universe bc i said so

a/n: part of my 500 words a day series. the letter is D for drawings!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The brand-new Nevarro marketplace was bustling with vibrant life. You swept through the crowd with Grogu in your arms, looking for things that would brighten up your new home. On your way to the florist, a smaller stall filled with art supplies caught your eye. 

After being on the run for so long, it would be nice for Grogu to get to be a child for once and do normal childlike activities. You and Din already enrolled him in the local school and the supplies would be useful as well. You looked over the many different mediums laid out on the table. 

“Do you want to try watercolors or crayons, Grogu? Or maybe acrylics?” You tapped your chin. His babble did not offer much help for your indecision, but you came to a decision soon enough. 

—

“I’m home!” You announced, balancing a bouquet of red and yellow flowers in one arm along with a bag filled to the brim with half the art supply stall and Grogu in the other. You made your way to the kitchen and set him down on his high chair. 

Din appeared from the bedroom, helmet-free, and rushed to take the overflowing flowers from you. “I could have helped you carry all this.”

“We could handle it.” You turned to Grogu, setting down the bag of art supplies in front of him. “Right, sweetheart?”

“What are these?” Din peeked inside the bag and pulled out a pan of watercolors. He inspected the box as if he’d never seen them before. You supposed being brought up under the Creed and being a bounty hunter most of his life didn’t allow time for leisurely activities like coloring. Maybe arts and crafts would be good for both boys. 

“For Grogu, figured it’d be a nice little hobby for him.” You took out the stack of papers you bought and the rest of the supplies, laying it all out on the table for Grogu to choose from. He grabbed for a silver marker, fumbling with it a bit, teething on the cap. You helped him uncap it and drew a simple circle. “See? You can draw with it.” 

When you placed the marker back in his hand, he recreated your circle, a bit lopsided and wobbly. You clapped your hands and cheered, “Perfect! Good job, bug.” 

He let out a cheerful giggle and continued dragging the marker across the page in random directions. 

Din chuckled. “He’ll be an artist in no time.”

The two of you got to work preparing dinner, leaving Grogu to continue drawing at the table. You would occasionally glance back at his artwork, seeing the new colors he was using and attempting to decipher what he was drawing. Din guessed it was a mountain and you chose a tree.

By the time you were setting the table, he’d gone through several sheets of paper, filled with various scribbles and colors. 

You plucked the marker from his hand and shook your head when he whined. “You’ll get to draw after dinner.”

Neither of you would have imagined the monster you created by giving him art supplies. He drew day and night, changing mediums and improving by the day. You and Din would sit and draw with him whenever you were free, praising each abstract doodle and painting. But, his paper supply was running thin and you were planning to take a trip to the market again. 

“Hey!” 

You poked your head into the living room to find Din crouched by the front door, running his finger across a blob of green marker colored onto the wall. As you approached, you realized it was not just a blob, but a head with two long ears sticking out. On either side of the head was another drawing that looked suspiciously like Din’s helmet and your face. 

“A family portrait?” You mused, a proud smile forming on your lips as you crouched beside the two. You picked up a red marker and uncapped it to draw a large heart around the three heads. 

“Hm,” Din hummed, “Perfect.”

[thethirdgenesisbooks]

How to Put Words in Your Book - 5 Tips to Actually Start Writing

There is a problem among a great many writers and aspiring authors: so many of us never actually put any words into a Word document. Some writers will spend years developing a story idea. They’ll think of everything; the world-building, the characters, moving scenes, but never actually sit down to write the story.

Sometimes this comes from a lack of confidence. Writers think, “What if my story isn’t good enough?” These writers need to realize that the only thing worse than a bad story is the story that’s never written at all. For other writers, the reason why they can’t seem to actually get anything written is because while they know where the story has to go, they don’t know how to start. For still others, the problem is simply a matter of motivation.

Here are five tips to help you get your story rolling:

1 - Read the Opening of Someone Else’s Novel.

Sometimes, it can be hard to know what sorts of details to introduce first in your story. Do you start with a physical description of the character? A quote? A scene with characters in peril? Seeing how other authors started off their books can be helpful in this regard. I’d recommend reading the opening of a novel in a different genre from the one you’re writing. That way, you aren’t tempted to borrow too heavily, and can focus on putting out your own material.

2 - Listen to Music.

My wife and I developed this game that we sometimes play that utilizes her skills as a musician and mine as an author. I’ll sit or lie down on the couch with my eyes closed, and she’ll start playing an original, improvised piece of music on the piano. As I listen to the tune, I’ll start to describe a scene that the music brings to mind and tell a short story. Similarly, whenever I sit down to write one of my books, I listen to instrumental music that’s appropriate to the story I’m working on. I recommend that if you choose to use music to inspire your writing, you make sure it has no lyrics, as your writing may start to reflect the words you hear. I also recommend not using music that you associate with a particular scene. For example, when I tried writing while listening to “The Barber of Seville,” all I could see when I closed my eyes was Bugs Bunny shaving Elmer Fudd. You want music into which you can put your own meaning.

3 - If You are Spiritual, Pray or Meditate.

This piece of advice is pretty simple. If you are a spiritual or religious person, then before you write take a moment to stop and either pray or meditate. There’s a reason the Greeks thought goddesses called “muses” inspired art. The right side of the brain is associated with creativity, intuition, and spirituality. So, activate that side of your brain by doing something spiritual. Personally, when I was writing the first novel in my Third Genesis fantasy series, I prayed every time that “words would flow from my fingers to the page.” Most days, I wrote around 3,000 words in that book.

4 - When Stuck, Get Up and Walk.

You’d be surprised what even the tiniest amount of exercise can do for you. Do you have stairs in your home? Walk up and down a few times. Do you have a stationary bike? Ride it a little. Any form of exercise, however small, can get your mind going.

5 - Act Out the Scene.

Do you know your characters well enough to know how they speak to each other, what their goals are, and what they want out of life? Then play pretend for a bit, as you might well have done when you were a child. Improvise the scene, and pretend that you are all of the characters in the scene engaged in a discussion or struggle. You may find that you’re not good at improvising their dialogue, but that’s alright. When you say it out loud, you’ll get a better idea of what’s natural conversation. You’ll also gain some insights into what the characters would or wouldn’t do, based on what they want.

These are just a few things you could try to get the creative juices flowing. All of these have worked well for me. Good luck and happy writing!

[pyrrhocorax]

can't wait to read more about them🙏🏻

can I ask what is your writing process like?

yeah, of course! The tl;dr is that it's kind of complicated, very cyclical, and I have to jump around a lot. The way my brain works is a little strange, and in order to work with my brain, I don't have a very linear or easily organized process (also the same with my actual work too), but I have figured out how to enforce organization/discipline on myself in a way that works for me. Going to talk a little bit about SOS/House Sorrows as examples (process was/is similar for both) 1. When I develop the concept for a longer story, I usually don't actually write anything cohesive for years. SOS's first chapter was published in 2015, but I had been actively developing the ideas for it since 2010 or before. House Sorrows is similar in that the original concept originated around 2016 a few months after I finished SOS -- but I didn't do anything with it at all and didn't think I would return to it then. I had a few other ideas in 2022, but I only decided to commit myself to writing House Sorrows and understood what it was going to be about in 2023. But even then, it is only now, in 2025, I feel like I have a better path forward of what I am going to do. Especially for longer-form stories I think for a long time about what I am going to write before I actually write anything. If I do write anything down, it's little snippets either handwritten in a notebook or in a notes app (depending on what I am doing), but I compile all of those notes over time into one gigadocument randomly when I have time. It is very chaotic. The process of oneshots/shorter stories is extremely similar, but just with less steps/organization needed -- but there are still stories that are 2, 5, even 10 years old that I want to write and haven't because I haven't Here is a section of my notes pile for House Sorrows, which is around 80+ pages long at the moment -- putting under the cut because could be considered light spoilers (chapter titles for this first arc, ideas/scenes/etc that may or may not appear in HS):

there are a bunch of things here -- notes about things to look into or references remember (river kings is a book, zeroworld is a podcast episode about theoretical mathematics), random musings, random phrasings that popped into my head, full paragraphs of ideas, half-formed scenes, etc. It's messy, it's not chronological, and not all of it will be in the story. I just vomit it all up into one document -- some things are more fleshed out in my head ("hold on i am drowning in the bathtub" is a line of dialogue from a much larger scene that may or may not end up in the story), but it's extremely unorganized. But it allows me to have a vast sea of possible things to pluck from if I am getting stuck in writing and don't know what to do next. Most of these ideas are written while i am hiking, cleaning, listening to music/podcasts, working, etc -- I rarely sit down to write to just write things down, I rather kind of wait passively for ideas to hit me, which is also why a lot of the formatting is bad -- I am usually mid some other task when I get an idea. sometimes it is a single word, sometimes i am like fuck i need to write 3 paragraphs right now or i will lose it and i have to stop and write what my head is telling me to write. I spend a lot of time consuming information (usually through podcasts while i do other things) about a lot of different subjects and topics, too, because I think constantly learning new things and challenging your brain makes it easier to spark ideas of your own. I can post my recc list for those if you want. 2. From there, I need to refine things. I have a second document that is where I am in the story -- first I pull things from the gigadocument and slot them in, and i usually work on 2-5 chapters at the same time, so if i get stuck on a part, instead of getting stuck with writer's block, I can go work on another recent part that I am feeling at that moment -- still progressing, but not linearly. But sometimes it feels right to write something suddenly, so I'll end up writing something extremely out of order. So for instance in my working document right now, I have about 10 in process chapters, most of which are in this first arc, but one of them I recently write is 50 planned chapters head of where we're at now. And that one is ready to go the moment I am at that part of the story, but the next chapter isn't finished. This works in part due to SOS/HS's non-linear narrative, but it also allows me to kind of deviate and adjust my writing based on how other parts of it turn out -- sometimes I tug on a string with a future chapter that I realize needs to connect with an earlier chapter! I also do most of my research in this phase and try to fact-check myself. To visualize this, here are the chapter titles and relative level of "done-ness" -- with bolded being posted publicly, darker green being finished and ready for posting, yellows being in process (brightness by level of stuff done), and red being basically a marker for the next section of story. The number in the second column, for illustration, shows the order in which each chapter was started/written, to give you an idea of how I jump around. Also notice some numbers (such as 11/14) are not present -- because that chapter is written ahead of these ones!

Generally speaking poems are written before prose -- pretty much all (if not all) poems were written for House Sorrows before I even wrote anything meaningful -- and the final chapter of HS was written before I even had this spreadsheet. The first thing written with SOS was the chapter called The Poem -- but what's interesting is that original written poem is not the poem that ended up in the story, but served more as a placeholder. For me, the spreadsheet acts as a loose guide, but I am constantly adjusting and moving things around. As things go on things are more solidified, and I have all chapters and chapter titles planned out for the entire story, but a lot of it is still fluid. 3. One chapters are done, I sit on them for a while. I usually like to have a few chapters ahead of the one I am working on done or in progress. I don't have a dedicated beta right now (would be interested, though), so it takes me a long time to go through everything myself. I usually read the chapter out loud to myself or at least mutter it under my breath to see if the flow works okay to me. Editing takes a long time, and just like how I write a bunch of chapters at once, I edit a bunch of chapters at once, too. I should also mention I do research like this too -- if i don't want to write and I don't want to edit, then I'll read something I need to read. And if I don't want to do that? That's Pyrr's signal to go wander around the woods for like 5 hours or bake a cake from scratch and just think about stuff while I am doing something else with my hands/body! That's kind of the process in a nutshell?

I may end up sharing my documents/spreadsheets for House Sorrows once I finish it just so people can see the behind the scenes skeleton of everything and how it was developed since a few people have asked me about how it all works, but I'm still figuring that out and how best to do that. hope that helped/was what were looking for and not just a bunch of random shit I said!!!!!!

[joemerl]

OC-Tober 2023, Day 20: "Rebel(lious)"

OC/WIP: "The Werewolf WIP," Con plus Randall talking about Curtis. Word count: 405 Author's notes: Happy birthday to Con, the only one of these three whose birthday is firmly decided. This prompt doesn't work well for him, but I eventually came up with something that actually foreshadows the story a bit.

"It ain't fair," Con whined, sitting cross-legged on his bed and crossing his arms over his chest. "You let Curtis do whatever he wants."

Randall scoffed, sitting down beside him. "That's funny. He says the same thing about you." He patted his youngest brother on the shoulder. "Look, don't get bent outta shape. Curtis is a teenager. He's just going through his rebellious phase."

"What' doe's that mean?"

"That he don't do a damn thing I tell him."

Con frowned thoughtfully.

"Is he gonna run away?"

Randall blinked. "Huh? No. Why? He say something about that?"

"No, but when real wolves—the kid wolves start not listening to the dad wolf, a lot of times it means they wanna leave and start their own wolf packs. So the dad wolf has to fight them and hold them down and scare them into staying."

Randall snorted.

"You could probably do that with Curtis," Con added, reasonably.

Randall tussled Con's hair. "Probably. But we ain't real wolves, little cub. Werewolves stick together. And the last thing Curtis would want to do start his own werewolf—club."

"What about when one of y'all get married?"

"What about it?"

"Then will y'all start your own packs?"

"Our wives wouldn't be werewolves. And I don't...think...our kids would be either." Randall made a face, the full meaning of which Con wasn't really able to understand. Regaining his smile, Randall patting him on the back and added, "Anyway, ain't no reason to worry about that yet. Curtis is only fourteen. It'll be a long time before we even have to think about the family breaking up. Okay?"

"Okay."

Randall got up and trudged out of the room. Con remained on his bed, but scooted closer to the nightstand to grab one of his books about wolves. Flipping through the pages, he mused that he was probably happy Curt wasn't going to run away and start his own werewolf pack. Even if it would be more fun with just him and Randall, especially when he started changing himself in a few weeks.

Then he wondered, quite suddenly, if he would want to start his own werewolf pack someday, when he was grown up and had kids who hopefully would be werewolves too.

He paused, staring ahead at the wall, then went back to his book.

For now, at least, it was too weird of a thought for the six-year-old to consider.

[basil-thoth]

Page 16: an attempt was made

Previous: Page 15

Next: Page 17

Masterpost here

Transcript under the cut!

Author’s note: From here on, Subject 1 will be referred to as “1-S” and Subject 2 will be referred to as “2-P”. Gaster refers to each with both names, but for the sake of simplicity, I will refer to them as 1-S and 2-P. 

Panel 1: [Gaster and 1-S are sitting at a table. 1-S is working on a stack of worksheets while Gaster reviews multiple charts, graphs, and notes while drinking from a mug that reads “World’s Best Dad Scientist. Gaster has 1-S’s SOUL locked in blue magic once again. Gaster seems generally disinterested, with one leg crossed over the other and his other arm resting on the table. 1-S looks at him accusatorily.]

1-S: why did you do that to him? he never did anything to you. he didn't deserve that.

Gaster: And you did? Does only his suffering matter to you? Interesting.

1-S: why did you make us? why are you doing this to us? 

Panel 2: [1-S makes a doubtful and confused face.]

1-S: ...is someone /making/ you do this? is that it?

Panel 3: [Gaster simply observes as 1-S makes his musings.]

1-S: do you not have a choice?

Panel 4: [Gaster suddenly jumps in surprise as his phone starts buzzing from his pocket. In his surprise, he seems to have released the blue magic keeping 1-S at the table.]

Panel 5: [Gaster sets his cup of coffee on the table while he pulls a blue flip-phone from his pocket. 1-S stares in confusion. It’s likely he’s never seen a phone before.]

Gaster: ...I thought I turned this off-

Panel 6: [We get to see Gaster’s phone screen. It reads: INCOMING CALL: ALPHYS. Below is a small line: loading wdalphys.exe…]

Panel 7: [The phone loads the WDAlphys program. The screen says: W D ALPHYS! VER 0.34 waiwai!! On either side of the graphic is a pixel art of Gaster on the left and Alphys on the right. They’re smiling with their arms held up, and a heart floats above their heads. Below the pictures says: Scanning for magical signature… Please touch your phone now, Dr. Gaster! =^.^=]

Panel 8-9: [Gaster stands up and presses a few buttons on his phone, which makes a few digital beeps and dits. He conjures three magical hands, one to hold the phone, and two more to sign for the phone. The program reads the magic signature of his hands while he uses sign language to translate it over on Alphys’ side of the line. This way, he can communicate using a telephone. Meanwhile, 1-S’s mind is blown.]

Gaster (signing): Yes, Dr. Alphys, what is it?

Panel 10: [Gaster turns his back to 1-S, still looking very confused, and continues his conversation with his colleague.]

Gaster: ...Yes, I'm fine. Is something wrong? 

Gaster: ...Late? Late for what? 

Panel 11: [1-S stares for a bit, watching.]

Gaster: Yes, but that's tomorrow, isn't it?

Panel 12: [1-S carefully eyes the doorway…]

Gaster: ...is it really...? Are you sure? 

Panel 13: [1-S slowly stands up. Gaster is still looking away from him, pressing his hand to his head in frustration as he keeps talking to Alphys over the phone.]

Gaster: ...I... I must have lost track of time... 

Gaster: ...I know, it's not like me, but I... I haven't gotten much sleep lately. 

Panel 14: [1-S runs down the hallway and away from Gaster. Gaster doesn’t notice.]

Gaster:  No, I'm alright, don't worry. I'm fine. I've just... had a lot on my mind…

Panel 15: [We see 2-P by himself in the cell. He seems to have been crying, either from pain from the handplate, or separation anxiety from 1-S, or perhaps both.]

1-S: bro! bro!

Panel 16: [2-P jumps to his feet excitedly, looking at 1-S on the outside of the forcefield.] 

2-P: BROTHER!! HOW DID YOU GET OUTSIDE?

[1-S is excitedly gesticulating back towards the other room.]

1-S: i snuck away while he wasn't looking- i'm gonna get you out, okay? then we're gonna get out of here!

2-P: OH, YAY! BUT... HOW?

Panel 17: [1-S touches a hand to his chin, trying to come up with a plan.]

1-S: um... i'm still working on that part. maybe-

1-S: uh... he does something to the wall when he opens it, doesn't he?

Panel 18: [2-P gestures to the electric panel on the wall to the right of the forcefield.]

2-P: YEAH, HE TOUCHES THAT THING OVER THERE, I THINK. MAYBE PUT YOUR HAND ON IT!

Panel 19: [2-P watches excitedly as 1-S puts his right hand on the wall and reaches up to touch the panel with his left hand. But, only one of the three lights come on, and the forcefield does not deactivate.]

1-S: ok... mmph! ...it's not working, only one of the lights went on!

2-P: TRY USING TWO HANDS!

Panel 20: [1-S looks confused at the suggestion, pulling his hand away from the panel briefly.]

1-S: he only uses one though.

2-P: WELL HIS HANDS ARE BIG! YOU HAVE LITTLE BABY HANDS.

Panel 21: [2-P holds both of his hands up placatingly. 1-S looks offended at the insinuation of him having baby hands.]

1-S: i do not have baby hands!

Panel 22: [2-P smirks a little, wiggling his fingers mockingly.]

2-P: YOU HAVE THE MOST ITTY-BITTY HANDS, BROTHER, LIKE TINY LITTLE-

Panel 23: [2-P becomes shocked, looking past 1-S. His eyes glow purple a bit, indicating a sudden bolt of fear.]

2-P: AAAAHH!!

Panel 24: [1-S’s SOUL has been turned blue and he’s magically pulled away from the doorway into the air. His eyes light up into sudden rings of purple. 2-P watches in horror.]

1-S: hgh- no!!!

Gaster: Apparently I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on you. You're slipperier than I thought.

Panel 25: [Gaster appears in the hallway and levitates 1-S a few feet off the ground. 1-S reaches desperately for his brother but to no avail.

1-S: no- no i was so close-!

Panel 26: [2-P looks up fearfully, clutching his right hand. Gaster looks down at him. 1-S is still being levitated and is kicking while clutching his chest, as if struggling will loosen Gaster’s magical hold on him. His face is screwed up in concentration.]

2-P: ARE... ARE WE IN TROUBLE...?

Panel 27: [1-S angrily looks at Gaster, still struggling in mid-air.]

Gaster: Yes. Under other circumstances, it'd be sufficient to punish only you, Subject 1, but your frailty makes it difficult. So…

Panel 28: [2-P looks up at Gaster fearfully.]

Gaster: You BOTH will be coming with me.

Panel 29: [Gaster places his hand on the panel. All three lights easily light up and deactivate the forcefield. 1-S desperately reaches towards Gaster, trying to stop him.]

1-S: don't- don't hurt him!!

1-S: he didn't even do anything- he didn't DO ANYTHING!!

Panel 30: [Gaster turns towards 1-S and looks him in the eye.]

Gaster: Think about that the next time you try to run from me. 

Panel 31: [Gaster escorts 2-P out of the cell and leads him down the hallway, still carrying 1-S by magic. 2-P’s head is hung low but he complies. 1-S has curled into the fetal position, defeated.] Gaster: Come on.

[Previously] [Next, kind of]

Horseshoes and hand grenades, Sans. This one falls sometime after the plate aftermath, though it’s not a direct continuation, exactly.

The WD Alphys app is something that Alphys and Gaster have been working on together to let them communicate via phone, since Alphys can’t speak Wingdings (I’m starting to think that only font skeletons can speak wingdings, actually). Once it keys into Gaster’s magical signature, it follows the movements of the magic hands he creates and transmits it to her phone, along with an attempt at a translation. It’s still in beta and hasn’t been released yet, but they’re hoping once they iron out the bugs and refine it that it can come in handy for other monsters who use sign language. I figure if Alphys can turn phones into functioning jetpacks then something like this wouldn’t be impossible, haha. He talks while he signs because he likes the sound of his own voice, the egomaniac. The little sprites were Alphys’s idea.

Gaster is tired and stressed out, thus why he’s not paying a lot of attention. Also why his coat’s unbuttoned and he left his phone on and why he’s trying to do work while Sans is doing an IQ test (IQ days are kind of “free” days for the three of them to recover from previous experiments).

[Index]

[mtothekay9]

This is what I have written so far for a Charcia (Cherry x Marcia) fic! It’s titled sweet strawberry kisses :3 it’ll be posted to my ao3 (mtothekay) in either an hour, or two months. Jk, it’ll be a day or so!

Tulsa, 1967. Two Soc Girls sit on the edge of a fountain in a park. Side by side, they lean into each other. One Girl speaks, the other laughs, the sound ringing through the warm summer air. It was beautiful. The essence of it, the stolen kisses under starry skies, the giggle filled sleepovers that inevitably ended in the lovers legs and arms entangled, the two becoming one. The love letters sealed with a kiss at the end of every page. The scrawls of black ink across starch white paper, forming poems and drawings and musings of love. It was everything.

It was considered unnatural, but how could something be unnatural if it felt so right? How could the fireworks that exploded through the air when their lips met be unnatural? They couldn't control it, they couldn’t stop the electricity that sparked between them when they touched.

From the drunken, sloppy makeouts, to the sweet strawberry kisses, they were in love. That much was clear. Fingers entangled in cherry red hair, painted fingernails running across checkered fabric of an expensive dress. The fragility of life never reaching them, warnings falling upon deaf ears. Nights filled with dancing in the middle of empty roads, running through the streets and laughing, it was theirs. It was heaven on earth.

They felt invincible that night, sitting underneath twinkling lights and the blanket of stars overhead. A cricket chirped, and Marcia spoke whilst leaning against Cherrys chest,

“We should run away together. We could go on a road trip, travel the country, we could take your car, and I’ve got plenty of savings. Think of how wonderful it could be, driving down the highway and sleeping in open fields.”

Cherry sighed wistfully and said “but how would we make money, or get food? We can’t get jobs without giving our names,and by the time we find a good place to stay, we’d be reported as missing.”

“We could think of fake ones! What about Sage and Rachel? Aren’t they pretty? My parents wouldn’t care where I went, and neither would your father! Please Cherry, we can make it work!”

They both sat still for a moment, Marcia was sitting up opposite Cherry now. Marcia’s eyes displayed a sort of desperation, while Cherrys held an air of uncertainty. Cherry thought for a moment, and her demeanor shifted as she said

“Okay.”

Marcia lit up at that, sitting taller slightly

“Really? You’ll really do it?”

“Yes. I want to.” Cherry nodded and bit her lip. “When do you think we’ll leave?”

“We could go next Friday. We’ll have a full week to prepare! I’ll empty my bank account and take some money from my parents”

“Alright. We’ll take my car, and I’ll gather my money too. Take anything you want, my car has plenty of room.”

“Ok! I’ll take mostly practical things I think, and definitely some books and a deck of cards. I’ll also bring music along, my cassettes and maybe a few records.” Marcia said.

Cherry grabbed her lovers hand and spoke, “this is gonna work. We’ll go somewhere where it’s safe to be together. We can do this.” She then pulled Marcia in for a hug and kissed her gently. “I’ll see you at school Monday?”

The brunette nodded and they parted ways, one going towards mulberry street, the other to gorse avenue.

[thebridgebeyond]

Year End Art Musings and Creative Reflection

It is time to do my yearly (mostly) creative reflection for the year. I won't bring up specific works this time around and will treat it like a typical written musing.

2023 was art-block-tastic! Yet I was not peeved at the fact either. It was actually relaxing to just sit back and say "yeah..I don't feel like drawing. Not today, not tomorrow, but I'll write some notes down instead." I did try to force some art at the beginning, but nothing substantial wanted to be drawn. Technological issues arose, which didn't actually affect much in the grand scheme of creativity: smartphones are above and beyond at this point in time--literally having everything and anything, except a plug for my tablet, and my art files. It actually allowed me to delve deeper into written wips such as stories and specific lorebook pages.

○I've done a little bit of sketchwork, mainly on my tumblr (which it'll stay that way for a while until I stitch concepts together or clean it up). That doesn’t mean I'm going to be producing much quicker, unless I'm having a real spur of the moment. It's relative, however...2023 only had a few full artworks.

○Ref wise..I Occasionally (maybe once or twice a year) glance through the drawn zhu overview ref (not the 20 page written one!) and try to find a fixable flaw art wise as new epiphanies may arise. I've tweaked it through 2022 and one thing in 2023 as adjustment notes point to. I'll be damned though:  I cannot find anything major to redo or mess around with (and I have not so much as looked at the ref since April). It's standing on its own perfectly, and I love the spacing of everything. The only thing I can think of, is that zhus now have their claws out permanently.

Perhaps I have too much of a short term expectation on the life of a reference given how much of a transformation my ref art and understanding of zhus have gone through since I started. In 2024 it'll be ten years learning about them! After all, they have had a few references beforehand, but I will allow my past self a pat on the back and scold my current self for underestimating a lot. I expect that overview ref to last many years to come (even if I make minor tweaks as I've been doing, sparingly).

That all said--I do really like the color reference design, but the outlined zhus are not a standard representation outline (which would be Jericho). That will need an update at some point. I don't particularly care for the pattern and markings ref template, and it does not show off partial patterns well for zhus either.  There's a likelihood of me just combining the two in a much larger reference at some point. The much delayed pharaoh ref will not be as tidy as the other templates, much more sketchy with the art (purposefully so as the form had literally not been as studied as terrestrial form). Also--we don't talk about character refs here. Avalon is the estranged child concerning that currently..

○Some Lorebook things may be added in for next year, but I work with what I have, and what comes to me.

There are some irl things I have to focus on as well, so I cannot for certain tell how that will affect the flow of creativity overall. I do expect some nice outcomes in 2024.

[voidtouched-blue]

Forgotten-contract--prior

She was in the sink. He was beginning to think that ‘chairs’ were merely a concept and not an item in this household. Clearing his throat - turning to return to the sitting room where the rest of the collected tomes sat - he spoke to her with an idle question; “Is there anything I can assist with for… sorting? For your research?” Gilded golds looked down to the web that covered her floor. “…If you’ve not some starting method to follow of course.”

Cyra was making the last round of wrapping her horns when she heard a soft sound from the other side of the open bathroom door. As she had come to understand, it was his way of politely making his presence known as to not frighten her. As keen as she was on picking up the sound of footsteps well before they reached her immediate vicinity, it seemed she had gotten comfortable enough with his presence to allow herself to wholly focus on the task at hand. Whatever it was she had been doing, she was always entirely absorbed, making it nearly impossible to not jump in reaction to the sudden soft alerts.

"Uhm-... yes, actually! I won't be more than a moment." She called out as she finally finished securing the bandage around her head. Cyra let her hair out of the low tie at the base of her neck, giving her head a little shake to let it fall where it pleased.

"Unfortunately," she sighed as she hopped out of the sink. "I'm going to have to sort through it all over again and compare with the notes I wrote while in Thanalan."

With a short few minutes taken to clean up after herself to be mindful of her own mess, the Miqo'te shivered as she felt the discomfort of the greased fur under the bandages. She scratched behind her ear as she stepped out from the bedroom. It had only taken her a moment to glance around the various scattered pages for her to realize that she had quite a bit of work to do.

Crossing her arms, she leaned over a handful of pages scattered at her feet, trying to trace back the train of thought to where she had left off before making her trip to Ul'Dah. Her other hand came up to rest her chin in her hand, rubbing her chin in thought as she did her best to recall how the pieces had been scattered.

"My knack for notation could either be considered a blessing or a curse depending on what side I'm standing on....right...Uhm..." She stepped around him as she mused aloud.

"All right. This would be easier to sift through and compare without having to stop and give direction every handful of minutes." She shifted, placing a hand on her hip while the other ran through her hair to stop at the back of her head. Her tail curled up and around her arm near her waist as it had done the last time she had papers scattered around her.

"I don't like to make assumptions, but-..." she finally turned her gaze to the man who stood waiting for her word. "-considering the rather rare nature of your collection, it's safe to say that you have a relative understanding of what my work consists of, correct?" The question was mostly rhetorical, a mere polite show of words to put them on the same page. She did not wait for his answer.

"Between the small amount I've gathered from the tomes you've so kindly allowed me to peruse, and my own mess, I'm looking for...-"

She paused suddenly, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"Blessed and cursed, indeed!" She shifted the hand from her mouth to cover her eyes. "Forgive me, Silvaire. I'm afraid I've a mountain of work to sift through and reorganize. I would not be a good host to ask it of you to assist me in this, but I will not refuse should you so desire."

Cyra pinched the bridge of her nose and recrossed her arms as she looked back at her guest.

"All of my notes are arranged with the assumption that I haven't gotten at least one of the myriad of answers I had hoped to find during my trip to the Sanctum. But, as these are so kind to remind me-" she gestured to the horns protruding from her skull. "-I have to rearrange this network according to the few answers I do have." Her free hand returned to her chin.

Should I just tell him? He's come this far already...I'm sure this is something he's already considered. Eh- might as well.

"As I'm sure you're aware, considering you've read my notes at your estate, I'm looking into the nature of contracts with Voidsent. I've spent a lot of time gathering as much information from ruins, first hand accounts I've written myself, and of course tomes, but there's a lot of information I believe I'm missing. Either something as simple as a mere connecting of similar events, or perhaps knowledge far older that what I have here, I've found too many conflicting pieces of evidence on how communicating with one works." She bent down to pick up a sheet with some poorly translated Mhachi inscriptions she had found at an archaeological site near the beginning of her obsession.

"I've only found information on the deals made between Voidsent and apparent victim, but not anything about those that might act as a patron rather than a partnership that only benefits one party with a violent end result." She paused again, glancing over the sheet in her hand.

"Where have I seen this before?" Cyra mused aloud as she took the copied inscription back over to her desk.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

“Pizza’s on the way,” Eddie announces. He flops down on the sofa, crashing right into Billy’s side and smiling when the little outburst goes unnoticed. “I got mushrooms and cherry tomatoes like you like.”

Without looking up from his book, Billy hums. Turns the page gently while Eddie noses a kiss against his cheek.

“Did you get plain cheese for Stevie?” Billy asks.

“Yup, with stuffed crusts.”

Billy nods once. Zones back into his book, if the way that his breathing softens is any indication. Eddie scoots closer. Glances at the page and implements the five finger rule that Billy showed him — and determines before he’s even halfway down that this book is way over his head.

“Dude, what kind of Old Testament shit is this?”

It takes Billy a moment to finish the sentence that he’s reading before his eyes stop skimming back and forth.

“The Vampyre by John Polidori,” Billy says. “It’s the original vampire novel.”

“I thought Dracula was the original vampire.”

Billy taps the page lightly with his thumb.

“This was like seventy years before Bram Stoker’s Dracula was published. Stoker’s novel is actually considered an adaptation of this one.”

Eddie nods. Leans his head against Billy’s shoulder and wraps his arms around him.

“Then why not just read Dracula?”

“Because I’m reading it next.”

“God, you’re such a goth, y’know that?”

A small smile blooms on Billy’s face as he shakes his head.

“I don’t listen to the music.”

“C’mon, I’ve heard you bopping to Siouxsie and the Banshees before.”

“One of Max’s mixes,” Billy excuses.

“The Cure?”

“Jonathan left his tape in my car and I haven’t given it back yet.”

There’s a slight pause. Eddie sits up enough to look at his partner, quirking a brow.

“Since when do you hang around Byers?”

Billy purses his lips.

“I don’t. He works part-time at the library.”

“He’s showing you music in your car.” Eddie spreads a grin and Billy’s face begins to burn a flustered shade of red. “You have a little crush on him, don’t you?” When Billy doesn’t say anything, Eddie snickers. “You definitely have a type, that’s all I’m saying.”

“No I don’t.”

“No you don’t have a crush on him or no you don’t have a type?”

Billy huffs and waves Eddie off with his hand.

“Either.”

“Lanky brunets,” Eddie lilts. “Typically of the brooding persuasion.”

“You do not brood, Munson, you’re the most bubbly motherfucker on the planet.”

“That’s why I said typically, babe, let’s try and keep up.” Eddie nuzzles closer and chews his lip. “Y’know, mostly based on Steve and Jonathan. Maybe a little bit of Hagan.”

“You’re putting way too much thought into this.”

“There’s definitely a pattern, wouldn’t you say? Lanky brunets…” Eddie wonders. “Brooding, pale skin, brown eyes…”

Billy’s eyes stay locked on the page that he hasn’t finished reading yet, jaw set as Eddie tippy-taps his fingers against the blond’s chest.

“Is your type just… vampires?” Eddie muses.

“Energy vampires, maybe,” Billy grumbles. He dog-ears the page and finally shuts his book, laying it in his lap. “But no.”

Eddie chuckles. Flattens his hand against Billy’s sternum and smooths his palm back and forth.

“Seems like it to me.”

“This may surprise you, but I’m not so shallow that I only care about looks.”

“So…” Eddie trails off. “There’s an outlier.”

“Edd—“

“Who is it?”

“I’m not doing this right now.”

“You’re my boyfriend, you’re contractually obligated to tell me about your hot man crushes.”

Billy presses his lips together and doesn’t budge when Eddie tries to shake an answer out of him. Eddie is about to start more roughly demanding when the doorbell rings, and it derails his train of thought long enough for Billy to slip away from him.

The blond jumps up from his seat to answer the door, practically ripping the door off of its hinges when he opens it. Light pours into the entryway, obstructed by a tall figure.

“Thanks for ordering Surfer Boy Pizza where we make everything fresh except…” the voice trails off momentarily, nearly cut off by the bubbly laugh that exits the guy’s lips. “‘Sup, lil’ dude!”

A hand shoots out to fist bump Billy, which he barely reacts fast enough to reciprocate. Still, the blond spreads a dopey little smile.

“Hey, Argyle,” he greets. Soft, for how flustered he is.

“Man, I didn’t know you lived right here or I would’ve been hopping the fence for backyard smoke seshes.”

Billy fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a new situation. Still getting settled.” Which is technically true if you count the box that’s been sitting unpacked in the corner for two weeks. “You should still come by sometime, though. When, uh… you’re not working, obviously.”

“Def!” Argyle says. “That’ll be fourteen fifty, bro.”

Billy digs in his wallet for a moment before he slaps a couple of bills in the other guy’s hand, which he trades the pizza for.

“Keep the change.”

Argyle furrows his brows.

“You gave me thirty.”

“Then I guess you have some extra cash for snacks when we hang out,” Billy lilts.

Argyle nods. Spreads a grin as he pockets the cash and fist bumps Billy once more.

“Sweet,” he says, and turns on his heel. “I’ll be seeing you around, lil’ dude!”

Billy waves briefly before he kicks the door shut, turning to walk into the kitchen and stopping in his tracks when he sees Eddie smirking at him from the couch.

The blond’s face turns ten different shades of red in a matter of seconds.

“The pizza guy, huh?” Eddie teases. “I see it.”

“I haven’t seen him much since I left Cali, alright? He just moved in with Jonathan and I haven’t had time to visit.”

“Right.”

Billy shifts his weight on his feet, furrowing his brows.

“Am I under investigation or something?”

“Nerds.”

“What?”

“Nerds. That’s your type. You like ‘em kinda dorky and way too interested in their hobbies.”

Billy scoffs.

“Stevie isn’t a nerd.”

“He’s a sports guy. You can twist it how you want, but he’s a nerd about it.”

“Tommy, then.”

“Too into cars.”

“Jon— actually, I understand that one, but Argyle is definitely not a nerd.”

Eddie chuckles and leans his elbow against the armrest, setting his chin in his hand thereafter.

“How many weed strands can that guy name? More than I can, and I can name a lot.” Eddie clicks his tongue when Billy has no counter argument. “Plus, he’s super passionate about his job. He talked my ear off about toppings for twenty minutes one time when I called in.”

Billy sighs. Sets the pizza down on the counter and crosses his arms, clearly working things over in his head. Eddie gets up in the meantime and strolls over. Gently pushes a stray curl out of Billy’s face before he laces his arms around his neck.

“Jokes aside, I think it’s nice that you like so many different people.”

Blue eyes meet his, and Billy softens. Sets his hands on Eddie’s hips.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I mean, you have lots of love to give, y’know? Of course it’s spilling over, sweetheart. Your cup is full.”

Billy chews his lip thoughtfully.

“I never looked at it that way before.”

Eddie leans closer. Kisses the corner of his partner’s mouth while he toys with a lock of his hair, soft to the touch and free of product.

“Glad my ramblings were of use to you,” Eddie chuckles. “Wanna have a sit-down with sleeping beauty after dinner? Talk some strats for getting you out of the friend zone?”

“I dunno if I wanna do that.”

“I’m pretty sure Steve’s had the hots for Tommy for a while now, so maybe we can knock everything out all at once.”

Billy raises an eyebrow.

“You’re not crushing on anyone? I might have to do some digging on you too, Munson, mister hopeless romantic.”

“I’m fine with bothering you two for eternity. I’m actually making it my life’s goal as we speak.”

“Of course you are.”

Billy ropes him closer, pulls him up to his tippy toes so he can press his lips to his neck — one of Eddie’s many, many weaknesses.

One of the others is, unfortunately, being manhandled. Even though Billy is gentle, it sends a thrill down Eddie’s spine when he’s lifted effortlessly.

“Want me to pay you back for the pizza?” Eddie breathes.

He makes a surprised noise when a large hand squeezes his ass.

“Keep your money, baby,” Billy lilts. Low and affectionate and now Eddie is the one getting flustered. “Wanna go wake Stevie up so we can eat and have our little discussion?”

Eddie nods. Shudders when Billy mouths at his throat and holds him ever closer.

“Yeah…” he manages.

Then Billy releases him. Let’s his socked feet touch the floor once again before he’s patting his behind and ushering him out of the kitchen.

Eddie has this sneaking suspicion that they’re gonna do way more than talk after they eat.

[books]

Writer Spotlight: Adam J. Kurtz

Happy New Release Tuesday, Booklr. We've got a very special treat for you today. To celebrate the launch of YOU ARE HERE (FOR NOW), we asked writer, artist, and designer Adam J. Kurtz (@Adam JK) about his process, the new book, and what to do when change comes for you. Adam's illustrative work is rooted in honesty, humor, and a little darkness. His books have been translated into over a dozen languages. His offbeat creative work has been featured in NYLON, Adweek, Vice, and The New Yorker.

Read on for Adam's answers and a very special giveaway treat at the end ;)

~

Can you tell us a little bit about YOU ARE HERE (FOR NOW)?

YOU ARE HERE (FOR NOW) is a collection of art and essays around themes of change and personal transformation—basically, the way we navigate change and intentionally grow, either because life threw some shit our way and we have to adapt, or because we realize we want something more, or something different.

My goal was to make a book that feels like staying up late talking to a friend about life and purpose and wanting so much more, and your fear of fucking up, and why everything is so hard sometimes, and umm, is it normal if I slightly want to die sometimes and wondering what comes next.

But you know, it’s chill. I’m not an expert, I’m not a therapist, I’m trying to work it all out too, and I do that through my art. I needed to change some things, so I made my life into an ‘art project’ so I would be forced to actually do it. And surprise, it helps.

YAHFN combines essayistic musings with visual artwork. Can you tell us about your work process? How do text and image speak to each other across the pages?

I’m kind of most known for my shorter writing style and aphorisms. I boil down bigger emotions into a bite-size catchphrase, then print it on balloons, planners, and keychains as weirdly personal but highly accessible art. This book combines a lot of the shorter writing, the handwritten reminders, with longer, themed essays wherever I realized I had more to say this time. The book’s art is composed of a series of folding sequences photographed step-by-step. A sheet of paper transforms into a ribbon, or a star, or confetti. I wanted to represent the way we all start out as a blank slate and are bent, rolled, and torn by reality—until we eventually emerge transformed but no less whole.

What’s something that’s good to remember about being a human person when overwhelming change happens?

Comparison isn’t helpful, BUT I like remembering that everybody has experienced difficult, scary, complicated shit. Even me, before this. And if I was able to find my way through then, I can do it again. Life is hard, and yet so many of us are HERE and DOING IT and PRETTY okay, and that can and will be the case for you, too.

When it comes to mental health, the number one thing to remember is that just because it feels real doesn’t mean it is objectively real. If there’s a way to safely step outside of yourself, it can help. Get another opinion! Talk to someone else you can trust. And no offense, but science is real. Like, brain chemistry is a thing, and you can’t just ‘toughen up’ until mental illness goes away. So ask for what you need.

Who do you write for? Do you imagine speaking to a specific person/type of person/audience while writing?

Honestly, I kind of write for myself and then try to open it up to others. I’m not sitting down to write in the voice of whoever I want to connect with (I’m literally not smart enough). I just write the way I speak, and it’s just sort of honest and full of dad jokes and a little nerdy, and I hope that’s okay because too late, I’m already this person.

Over the years, through my other books, social media, and public speaking, I’ve heard from enough people who DO get me that it is helpful to hear something so close to their inner monologue communicate the same things they’re thinking or worrying or obsessing about. I’ve come to embrace that my power is in being comfortable opening up, putting something in simple words, pairing it with graspable visual metaphor (it’s paper and pencil, we get it!!), and sharing it.

How do you practice self-care when juggling the different creative processes of writing and making visual art, as well as being a person?

I just don’t!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I mean, jk, but like, sometimes I am a real asshole to myself; I drink three coffees, and then I’m like, “wait, why is this happening to me,” as if I don’t exist in a physical body. It really comes down to balance in everything. Balance doesn’t mean I’m going to be exactly 50/50 on the scale. It just means that if I tip too far one way, I need to work to tip back. Most of the time, I’m too far in either direction, so there’s a lot of swinging.

The answers are easy: Drink water, get enough sleep, go for walks, wear clothing that is comfortable, sit up straight. It’s the questions that are more complicated. We’ll talk about it in the book.

What’s your favorite place to write? Why?

It seems like the answer is “anywhere that isn’t my desk,” based on where I wrote this book. I wrote the first draft of seven chapters on a 12-hour train ride from Oakland to Los Angeles while pretending to be a famous author who can afford to live off their books (lmao).

Later, I got a major reality check when we moved in with my husband’s parents. I wrote a lot of the book on their patio, and I did all the artwork from my sister-in-law’s childhood bedroom at a child-size desk I had to sit sideways at to fit. I did all the photography in a pop-up photo tent on the bed.

I guess my point is that you don’t need fancy shit to make your art, which is something I am always saying but really experienced in a super immediate way for this book.

There’s something incredibly touching and nourishing about YAHFN. What do you hope readers come away with?

It gets better because you get better. And if you’re not better yet, imagine your better self, then work backward to create actionable steps to get there. At least that’s what I’ve heard. In the meantime, here’s the book version of me sitting on your couch, drinking tea and talking about life and the universe and everything until we realize we haven’t checked our phones in a while and how the fuck is it 2 a.m. already?

What are you reading/writing about/making right now?

Beyond the book, YOU ARE HERE (FOR NOW) is me creating a big obvious reminder for myself to keep going. So I’m pushing it in a few directions. I’m currently wrapping up a podcast series of the same name and preparing larger-scale artwork for a YAHFN art show in Honolulu that opens in November. It took so much work to get here, to this moment, now I want to stay for a little bit and see what happens.

Thanks for taking the time, Adam! YOU ARE HERE (FOR NOW) is out today! If you'd like your very own copy, either head to your nearest book store or reblog this interview and tell us about a time you overcame a challenge—however big or small! Adam will select 10 winning responses from US-based participants. Each winner will receive a copy of YOU ARE HERE (FOR NOW).*

*Open to US residents only. You must also be at least 18 and the age of majority in your jurisdiction. The giveaway will begin at 10 a.m. EST on October 19, 2021, and will close at 10 a.m. EST on October 20, 2021. Our editorial team will reach out to winners via email to facilitate sending out copies. One entry per blog. No purchase necessary. Void where prohibited by law. Sponsor: Tumblr Inc.

[evelestrange]

hi!! i absolutely loved "enough" omg i can't get enough (😉) of protective bf!ekko, he deserves more love ;_; can i request for some pre-relationship ekko, like maybe the moment when he finally confesses his feelings for reader after hiding it for so long? tysm and keep up the great work 💚

i am combining this and @halypoty requests! (romantic ekko x reader)

another reminder that if either of you don't like the fic or it wasn't what you had envisioned, dm me for a prioritized request

are we too young for this?

my arcane masterlist

┊spoilers: act 2

┊pairing: Ekko x fem!zaunite!reader

┊warnings: mentions of death,

┊word count: 1.2k

┊genre: hurt/comfort

┊summary: Being with Ekko in the firelights wasn't easy, but it's worth it.

┊notes: trying out something new by making the a song fic !

song: softcore by the neighbourhood.

personal preference here, but i wholeheartedly believe that angst-fluff hits so much harder than just fluff (i'm also just a sucker for hurt/comfort where there is some genuine backstory and epilog instead of an awkward cut-off.) Therefore, most of my posts will have some sort of angst, including this one <3

you've been my muse for a long time…

His gray eyes seemed to glitter under the sunlight. His smile is beaming against the rays. His head turned to face you, his smile somehow glowing even brighter at the sight of you. The small gap in his teeth is still present after all these years.

You were sitting in the grass, your legs crossed as your sketchbook was open in your lap. The charcoal in your hand dancing over the parchment, using your sleeve to smear the shading, bleeding his cheekbones into the page. You bit your lip in concentration, trying to get his eyebrows just right. One arch needed to be lower than the other.

His heart seemed to swell at the sight of you.

you get me through every dark night…

Your hands covered your mouth in a silent sob, your hands trembling under the weight of your fear. Your shaking was constant, but with no definite pattern.

Ekko shifted in his sleep next to you, his brows furrowing and contorting in ways you couldn't seem to understand. The man pulled you closer to him, subconsciously. His hands are firm around your back, splaying across the base of your neck and intertwining his fingertips onto your hair, an irritating but comforting pressure.

Your breathing slowed and your racing heart calmed as you were laid beside him, admiring his features in every way to ground yourself. A small smile settled into your expression, eyes closing as he brought you into the crook of his neck.

You didn't notice the kiss he pressed to your temple as he followed you to sleep.

i'm always gone, out on the go…

You squint your eyes, the sun blinding you as it poured into your bedroom. You rolled onto your side with still closed eyes, lifting your leg to drape over your best friend.

The sheets were cold with his absence.

i'm on the run and you're home alone…

You sighed, as this was nothing new. He got paranoid sometimes ; it's understandable with the work we do in our...field.

It didn't make waking up alone any easier. With another sigh you rolled out of bed, your feet freezing against the cold wood. The curtains swayed, dancing with the wind. You pulled brown cargo pants from your closet. A tight, black, long sleeve shirt following closely behind.

You slipped the material over your head and around your hips, messing with the hems for comfort.

i’m too consumed with my own life…

Reality seemed to fade away, disappearing into the fog of a simulation as you applied pressure to the nuzzle in your hand, the rich paint spreading across the tree bark. Your eyes stung as you filled and smoothed the magenta hair into the splitered ridges.

are we too young for this?

She was nineteen ; a child, when death had taken her by the throat, dragging her into the depths of wherever the afterlife resided. Tears fell down your face, your sleeve rehoming them into the fabric of your shirt as you continued to honor her memory in a portrait.

feels like i can’t move…

You look a step back, the full picture in view. A force seemed to slam itself into your chest, your mind returning to your body from its far away state.

Yet, you couldn’t seem to move as pink joined pink on the tree. Your feet were planted to the ground, phantoms of the tree’s roots wrapping themselves around your body and preventing your movement.

sharing my heart…

As terrible as it was, the girl was a substitute for Vi in sorts. Just a bandaid over a bullet wound that was ripped off with her death.

it’s tearing me apart…

Your heart ached in your chest as you studied the art you created.

“Firelights!” Mirio’s shout was verbose, echoing throughout your home as you turned your head, your heart lightening as you spotted platinum locs in the distance, quickly coming closer as you raced to meet him.

but i know i’d miss you, baby, if i left right now…

“I missed you,” you whispered in his ear, your arms tight around his neck. His arms only tightened, a silent reciprocation to your claim.

doing what i can, tryna be a man…

Your nails scratched lightly against his neck as his heart pounded, trying to go through his chest and into yours.

His posture was stiff and tense with emotional barriers. He was trying to stay strong for everyone here, he was a leader.

And leaders don’t show weakness.

Because look where that got Vander.

and every time i kiss you, baby…

His lips lay on your neck, but not in a kiss.

Never a kiss.

You knew he must have lost someone on the mission, taking it hard. He breathed you in as a comfort, a reassurance that you were here. You were alive.

i can hear the sound of breaking down…

He was trebling, ever so slightly. Your arms loosened, your hand slipping into his as you pulled him along.

You entered your shared dorm, pulling him down onto the sofa and holding him close to you as his tears started to run, dampening your neck as his arms snuck around your waist, eliminating any space between the two of you.

You were all he had.

“Please don’t end up like them..” he begged. You shook your head, your own tears spilling over as you clutched him to you.

“I will never, ever, abandon who we are and what we stand for, Ekko,” you reassured.

i’ve been confused as of late…

He shook his head and confusion enveloped you.

“Please don’t leave me like they did.”

Your heart broke, not because of his fear, but because what you said next could turn into a lie.

“I won’t leave you.”

watching my youth slip away…

He had crows feet around his eyes, the stress of the past few years getting to him. Watching the death of the man that took him in, and watching his brothers and sister drive them selves into a suicide mission, only to not come out the other side and the only person that survived sided with their enemy and abandoned them.

Then he had to watch the people around him be ravaged by shimmer and die.

you’re like the sun, you wake me up…

He looked up, eyes meeting yours, bloodshot and slightly swollen.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids,” his voice was rough, the side effect of his tears. “You’re the only constant I’ve had in my life since Benzo and Vander died.”

He was pouring his heart out to you and openly trauma dumping.

but you drain me out, if i get too much…

“I can’t let anything happen to you, I wouldn’t survive that.”

Your hands came up the cup his jaw, running them along the edges.

“I promise you, I’ll try as hard as I can to never make you feel like you’ll lose me,” you swore to him, holding his eyes to your gaze.

i might need you or i’ll break…

“I need you.” Within seconds his lips were pressed to yours, a long and sweet kiss he had planted onto you. You losened your grip, favoring having your arms tightly swung around his neck.

He pulled away, only just.

“I love you so much,” he confessed. His gaze was locked on you, waiting for a reaction.

An answer.

“I love you, to the stars and back.”

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-taglist: @bitchylittlejellyfish @1-danid @holysmokesblog@brooks-lyanna

[albakore]

Domesticity

Synopsis: small moments with the boys that make their heart flutter.

Characters: Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli (gn!reader)

Warnings: none!

Kaeya

You didn’t hear the door open which was what usually alerted you to your lover’s arrival home. It was evening and even though you two hadn’t gotten the chance to grab dinner yet like you normally did, you couldn’t wait to find something to satiate your craving — more specifically, your craving for something sweet. So here you stood at your kitchen counter, not even bothering to take the extra few steps to sit down at the table, enjoying the cake you had picked up from the local baker in town.

“Oh, what’s this? Dessert before dinner?” Kaeya’s smooth voice right beside your ear made you jump, arms encircling your midriff. Even though you couldn’t see his expression at the moment you knew he had that mischievous glint in his eye that hadn’t faded from when he realized he could take advantage of you not noticing his entry.

“I’ve got an extra slice in there for you too.” You noted aloud before taking another bite of your own cake. You turned your head to observe Kaeya for a moment, just appreciating his beauty. You chewed slowly as your eyes drifted over the features of his face and hair before coming to complete the eye contact he had been holding one-sidedly with you for a few moments now.

“Aw, you bought me some cake too? Thank you angel.” He hummed before adding on, “I’d like to save mine for after dinner. I’d appreciate it if I could steal a bite from yours now though if you don’t mind.” He added on cheekily at the end. You rolled your eyes but nonetheless mumbled a small fine to indicate your approval, lips quirking up in an involuntary smile at your lovers antics. His fingers twitched as he had planned on grabbing the fork to do it himself but quickly stilled his arm when he observed your actions and concluded that you already had something else in mind. He watched as you cut off a piece before scooping it up on your fork, turning in his embrace with a hand under the fork to catch any stray crumbs. He opened his mouth compliantly and took the fork into his mouth without taking his eyes off you. You withdrew your fork from his mouth and turned back around to get another bite for yourself. He couldn’t help the feeling that arose in his chest of total adoration at the action. It wasn’t necessarily like you were taking care of him or anything of that nature, but the thoughtfulness still has butterflies erupting in his stomach. He smiled a soft, genuine smile often reserved only for you as he rested his head on your shoulder. “Thank you, princess.” He murmured softly into your skin, pressing a gentle kiss there.

Diluc

Though he rarely ever admits it out loud, he loves seeing you in his clothes. It feels like he’s providing for you in yet another way, and it’s a way he can provide from afar which is even better. Something about knowing it’s his coat that’s keeping you warm or his shirt that you decided you’d be most comfortable in. He often feels guilty about not being around as much as he should, but when he steps into you two’s shared bedroom and sees you lounging on your side of the bed atop the covers with his shirt hanging from your frame loosely and a book in hand, he can’t help but feel all the moments spent longing to be by your side are worth it.

“Good evening, darling. What are you reading?” He normally wasn’t the one to break the silence first, he understood as well as anyone that there’s not much that’s more annoying than having your peace and quiet disturbed unwillingly. But when your eyes flutter up to meet his with a soft expression on your face, he can’t help but feel like you don’t mind his intrusion.

“This old book I found on one of the shelves out there,” you motion toward the door behind him, “Adelinde said it was one of your childhood favorites so I thought I’d give it a read. Maybe it’ll provide me more insight on the mind of Diluc Ragnvindr.” His lips curl upward at your playful statement as he shrugs his coat off and places it over the desk chair that’s in his room.

“The mind of Diluc Ragnvindr?” He repeats with mirth laced in his tone.

“Precisely!” You chime, your smile growing wider as you watch Diluc slip off his shoes and loosen his tie.

“Well, I’ll offer you some insight into my mind. I think you’ll find it quite a boring place.” He glances back at you to see your focus is still trained on him. “I’d much rather have you in my arms right now than in my mind.” He doesn’t miss your little giggle as you carefully mark your page in the book and place it next to you before slipping off the bed. He takes in your appearance once again as you make your way toward him, realizing that not only are you wearing his shirt but you also seem to have found a pair of his socks to claim as well. And when you raise your arm to hug him, he notes that you don’t seem to be wearing pants either. His arms find their way around your waist and his hands lock together as the rest on your lower back. “Much better.” He muses, eyes looking at you with the softest expression this man could ever muster.

“Tell me, what is the mind of Diluc Ragnvindr thinking right now?” You ask, reaching up to brush a strand of his hair out of his face.

It’s thinking that I’m the luckiest man in the world right now, he thinks. It’s telling me that I’ve found the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. But instead, he settles for a simple and common phrase: “it’s thinking that I love you.” He replies softly after a few heartbeats.

Yes all the moments of longing to be by your side are worth it indeed, he can only hope you feel the same.

Zhongli

“Here you go.” You crooned, placing down a fresh cup of tea in front of him. His focus was currently on some paperwork that you had watched Hu Tao hand to him earlier so you can infer that he’s probably working on funeral parlor related documents.

“Thank you darling, would you mind bringing me th-“

“The cream?” You finished for him. “I already put some in there.”

“Ah, thank you. How about-“

“Sugar?” You conclude for him yet again, watching him fondly as he scribbles something down on his paper. “Already put that in also. Three cubes, just like you always add.” You watch as his focus finally breaks from his work and instead his gaze comes to rest on you. His hand absentmindedly reaches out for the spoon in his cup and stirs it a bit.

“How long did you steep it for?” He inquires curiously. Not that it really mattered to him, he was just intrigued by how much attention you seemed to pay to his routine, he was flattered even by your thoughtfulness.

“Five minutes. This particular kind of tea usually runs strong but I remember you mentioning that when you did less than that it was a little weak.” You seemed proud of yourself for the level of care you took in preparing his tea. You took one more step closer to him before brushing his bangs out of the way and planting a gentle kiss on his temple. “You’ve been working hard lately, it was the least I could do.”

Zhongli has spent centuries by himself, merely observing couples who act the way you two are now — but without the title of “geo archon” to accompany his name any longer, he sees no reason to deprive himself of the pleasure that is a romantic relationship any longer. His amber eyes stay trained on you a moment longer before he brings the cup to his lips, blowing some steam off the top and taking a sip. You watch the way a smile forms on his lips as he tastes the tea you so carefully prepared for him. “Thank you, (y/n). This is very kind of you.” His compliment brings a soft blush to your cheeks as you shrug it off.

“Don’t mention it.” You glance bashfully down at your hands. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Just as you step away his gloved hand catches yours and brings your knuckle to his lips. It’s a fleeting moment before his eyes are once again focused on the paper in front of him. He takes another sip of his tea and he swears it tastes better than when he makes it himself. Perhaps, as corny as it may sound, because this tea was made with one extra ingredient: love.