#polka dots ash

[5sospicturesque]

Clearing out my camera roll 9736/?

[kindahoping4forever]

hi Crys, everytime someone falls into a blackhole of content down your archive i wonder what's your reaction, so. What do you do when that happens? Jshdjs

This ask is perfect timing as I literally just got done scrolling thru the havoc @ghost-of-you unleashed upon my notifs while I was asleep and my reaction was basically this:

[essentiallyleaf]

Ya know what , I'll give you an idea

As a commercial pilot how bout a kink "plane sex"

And pls write Rosé with this kink

day 15. body worship. with. rosé.

1268 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, body worship, lots of kissing and licking, feet stuff, abs stuff, oral sex, fingering, squirting, minor plane stuff, the dialogue just goes places idk, hold onto your suspension of disbelief for dear life, blasphemy(?).

notes.

this is barely even related to the ask, isn’t it? sorry, icyphilosopher, i really am (thank you so much for the inspiration though). well, my excuse is i watched Queen & Slim (it was alright, the soundtrack might be the best part. that and Daniel Kaluuya) and felt like crime today.

The private jet has barely taken off when Rosé starts taking her clothes off, starting from the black heels, then proceeding with the black cropped blazer, the high-waisted black shorts, along with the belt and the chains attached to them, the polka dot black shirt, and finishing with the black stockings and her black underwear. She puts them all in a black trash bag and throws herself on the beige leather sofa face first, completely naked.

“Fuck this ‘No fires on the plane’ rule.” She complains into the beige pillow.

“I mean, if you want to burn them now and cause a fire, making the jet collapse on itself and getting us buried on the bottom of the northern Pacific, go ahead.” You reply nonchalantly as you take a sip of vodka while sitting cross-legged on one of the beige armchairs.

“Honestly, compared to the prospect of a ten-hour flight with you, that doesn’t even sound that bad”

It’s Rosé’s habit to burn clothes, phones, cars, (people,) anything that can be linked to her in a meaningful way, after every job. This time it was a fairly straightforward drug trade with this Yakuza syndicate in Osaka: give the talcum powder, take the money, go home. The road was somewhat bumpy and a couple heads had to pop, but what can you do. Oh, and the getting naked in front of you part, that was a thing way before you two started fucking.

You stand up from your seat and duck next to the couch as she turns her head towards you. Start caressing her smooth, long blonde hair as you admire her graceful features. How could such a cold, brutal criminal look so angelic?

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Leave no trace.” She recites her mantra matter-of-factly.

“You think someone’s on our trail?”

You lay on top of her and start kissing her shoulders, from the left, then move her hair to kiss her neck, to the right, and back a couple times.

“Someone’s always on your trail.” Your kisses start heading down her back, each a little wetter than the previous. “You know how it always ends with people like us, right?”

You think you hear Rosé’s voice break for a split second, but you could be wrong. Place your hands on her shoulders and start slowly making little circles with your thumbs as you keep traveling down.

“We get greedy and scared and die sad and alone?”

“We always trust one person too many”

As your trail of kisses gets to her lower back, right above the curve of her ass, you flip her body around. Bend her legs on her chest, then start massaging each foot with one of your hands, going from the middle of her soles, to her heels, to the balls of her feet, untangling her muscle fibers all the way through. You hear her humming in the meantime.

“So? Would you stop living your life for that?”

“I would try my best not to end my life because of that.” You bring her feet to your mouth and start pecking her toes, then travel down the inside of her feet and up again kissing her soles. “Plus, it gives me a sense of peace, of liberation”

“Ashes to ashes?”

“In that analogy, I would be… God?”

Take a long lick from her heel to the ball of her foot, ending by wrapping your lips around her big toe and licking all around it.

“Do you feel like one?”

“I don’t think God sees himself like we see him” She moves her other foot towards your mouth to signal you to switch, which you do, as your hands reach towards her small breasts and start softly playing with her rosy nipples. “Powerful men need people to adore them to feel immortal. Immortals don’t need our attention to be powerful”

“You think God is a woman?”

“I think God is a depressed fuck.”

You let out a chuckle. Then lower her knees again and place yourself between them to start kissing and licking her wonderful, sculpted abs. Your right hand almost instinctively starts lightly rubbing her already wet outer lips, your left grabbing her plump asscheek.

“What a short couple billion years alone in the button room could do to ya”

“But honestly, working on the wrong side of the law… I think it’s hard not to feel like one” She starts panting a little in between words.

“Ego?” Your mouth slowly travels down her lower stomach while your fingers play with her nub.

“Just, pure facts. I could kill a man that crosses my path at any time, and I have. Mmmmh. We just, own their lives. The decision to let them live on, or to end them, right then and there. It’s all ours. Yeahh- How do you not feel all-powerful when you have that?”

It becomes hard for her to complete a sentence without any moans in between.

“Does it matter?”

“W-What?”

Rosé’s focus is probably directed away from the conversation, and towards the feeling of your fingers opening her lips wide and your tongue taking one long lick from the bottom of her slit up to her sensitive clit.

“I don’t know them. Are decisions over the lives of people you don’t care about even worth making?”

You take several shorter licks around her slit, side to side, up and down, once in a while penetrating her hole slightly.

“What do y-youh care about?”

As her moans become longer and more frequent, her sentences become simpler and shorter.

“Right now, taking my money home”

Your tongue digs deep into her pussy, you try to reach every corner and crevice of her heat with it, and her whimpers tell you you’re doing a pretty good job at it.

“And th-en, what?”

Your mouth detaches from her right as she sounds like she’s going to give in. You get on your knees and pause for a second, looking at the empty floor of the plane. 

“...I don’t know, a legacy?”

“Villains have no legacy, they only leave bloody paper and hate behind them”

You get back down to face her, staring right down Rosé’s deep brown orbs. Your fingers return to her lower lips, and two of them make their way into her slippery walls, drawing a loud groan off of her. You start pumping in and out of her at an ever increasing pace.

“Love. I want someone to come back home to, to be there, waiting for me, to heal my wounds.” She’s now moaning right in your face, her pitch getting higher and higher, signaling her impending high, but her eyes are wide open and locked on yours. “To be able to spend time with, in silence, without it feeling awkward, not needing to worry about the future, just looking at her in the eyes, and, being in love.”

A few final pumps and Rosé starts repeatedly contracting around you, a stream of unholy water covering your entire hand and wrist in a profane coating, only a deep, tongue-filled kiss muting her screams as she finally can’t keep her eyes open anymore. You close yours with her as her arms wrap around your neck. The kiss lasts far longer than the already lengthy while she takes to recover from her strong orgasm. As both of you stare into each other’s pupils again, you’re the first to talk.

“How do you know when you’ve found what you’re looking for?”

“I don’t know. I think I’ll start from, looking at the junk I’ve collected on my way, before burning it”

-

footnotes.

god is a journey. progressively, leaf.

[imawkwardlysoc]

please don't be in love with someone else

Song- Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Pairing- tim mcgee x female! reader

Warning(s)- Just lots of dialogue if that counts (sorry about that)

Wordcount- 1,414

Summary- A reader has to come to her sense on who she wants in the future

“So,” I walked into the lab, twirling myself in my outfit. “What do you think?”

“Oh my,” Abby jumped up and down while clapping. “You look so cute!”

“I have to agree.” I looked over to see Tony, Ziva, and Tim walking into the lab.

“That dress is cute,” Ziva complimented my ash blue wrap dress with white polka dots scattered around it.

“Thanks,” I thanked them and I faced my lab partner. “You’re sure you’ll be fine when I’m gone?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she reassured me. “Now go on your date. Who knows? Something might happen.”

“Yeah,” I put on my denim jacket and threw my bag over my shoulder. “Well, I’m gonna get going now. See y’all tomorrow.”

All of them said their goodbyes and I headed to the elevator. Pressing the button, I waited for a little bit before the doors opened and I walked in.

“Hold the elevator!” I heard Tim’s voice and I pressed the hold button. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” I smiled.

“So, you have a date with Darren?” He asked.

“Yeah, I do,” I nodded my head and let out a chuckle. “I have a feeling that he’s going to propose.”

“Really?” He raised his eyebrow. “How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know to be honest.”

“You don’t know?”

“I mean,” I sighed and leaned against the elevator wall. “We’ve talked about it once but never talked about it again.”

“Well, do yourself with him for the rest of your life?” The agent asked.

“This is turning into an interrogation,”I let out a laugh as I switched the elevator off. “Why do you want to know McGee?”

“I’m just wondering,” he explained. “Marriage is a serious thing. You’re going to spend the rest of your life with that man and possibly have kids together.”

“And we’ll figure that out kids later,” I told him.

“Again, do you see yourself with him forever?” He asked again.

“Again McGee, why do you want to know?” I started to become agitated.

“Because he doesn’t deserve you!” He waved his arms in the air. “You don’t deserve him!”

“How do you know who I deserve?” I scoffed.

“Because of the amount of late nights we spend together while working on a case and your rants about the guys you go on dates with aren’t fitting into your standards,” he answered. “You also talk about how much Darren disappoints you but you’re still with him. Why is that?”

“Because I love him!” I turned the elevator back on again.

“Even though he disappoints you constantly?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I sighed with a questioning tone and whispered the last part. “Even though he’s not you.”

With the doors opening, we walked out of the elevator feeling tense from the conversation we just had. Giving Tim a small smile, I started to make my way out.

“Hey Y/N,” I looked over to see Tim. “Just think about it okay?”

Nodding my head, I walked out of the building and got into my car. Throughout my drive to the restaurant where I’m meeting Darren, I thought about the conversation that happened in the elevator.

Was I really in love with Darren?

Is he the right person for me?

With the sound of a honk knocking me out of my thoughts, I saw the light was green and continued to drive. Pulling up into a parking spot, I got out of the car and walked into the little Italian restaurant. Looking around I saw Darren sitting at one of the tables in the back more dressed up than usual. Walking up to the table, I greeted him with a kiss on the lips and sat down across from him. Opening the menu, it took me a few minutes before ordering what I wanted to eat. With wine being poured in our glasses after ordering, we clinked glasses and I took a big sip of wine.

Throughout dinner, I conversed with Darren about his day at work. Since he’s the press secretary for a freshman congressman, it was mostly about setting his boss’ agenda for election season. I really tried to listen to him but the conversation that Tim and I kept on replaying in my head.

“Hey, are you okay?” Darren asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied. “Just had a busy day at work.”

“Constantly running blood tests and fingerprints?” He let out a light chuckle.

“Yeah, I guess you can say that,” I gave him a smile.

He knows that I’m a forensic scientist but he doesn’t know that I work for NCIS and a field agent if needed.

Wrapping up dinner, Darren suggested that we should take a walk in the nearby park. Agreeing to that suggestion, we grabbed our things and headed out of the restaurant to the park.

Looking up at the sky, it turned from its normal blue color to a hue of orange, yellow, and purple, indicating that the sun is setting. The cool spring wind blew the cherry blossoms off the trees which landed in my hair. I could see the anxious feeling that Darren was radiating off of him as we got closer to the gazebo.

“Can I ask you something?” He faced me and grabbed both of my hands.

“What is it?” I started to feel my heart beating rapidly.

“I wanted to make this whole speech but I know you like it when people are straight to the point,” he chuckled, getting down on one knee and pulling out a velvet box. “Will you-”

“No,” I interrupted him.

“What?” He questioned

“No, I’m saying no,” I told him. “I know what you’re going to ask and I can’t.”

“Why?” He questioned while getting up from the ground.

“I just can’t,” I looked at him. “I don’t imagine us together and I’m sorry about that. You’re just not the person that I want to marry.”

The sound of rain soon filled my ears as tears formed in my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Walking out of the gazebo, rain started to pour down on me. Without any care of the world, I walked in the rain back to my car. Shutting the door, I started to let out a bunch of tears. Leaning back on my chair and closing my eyes, the image of Tim entered my head.

He’s the only person I want to be with. I want to be with him, not a person not like him. I just hope he feels the same way.

Looking at the time on my phone, I started my car and made my way to the apartment. Parking my car when I reached it, I got out of my car and locked it before climbing up the stairs to the level where the apartment was. As I got closer, I heard the sound of typewriting muffled through the front door. Knocking on the door, I heard the typing stop and the sound of footsteps.

“Y/N?” Tim opened his door. “What are you doing here and wet? Come in.”

Walking into his apartment, he gave me a towel and thanked him. “I told him no.”

“So he did propose?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“Why?” He questioned as I saw him going into his room.

“Because he’s not the person that I want to spend the rest of my life with,” I explained. “He’s just not-”

I let out a groan and covered my face. “Just not what?”

“He’s not you McGee!” I confessed and got up from my seat. “He doesn’t listen to me while I rant about work. He doesn’t geek out with me about the latest Doctor Who episode or the next Nintendo game. All he does is talks about politi- umph”

With Tim’s lips placed on my lips, the towel he gave me dropped onto the floor, I wrapped my arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around my waist. Fireworks started to explode in my stomach as we continued to kiss. His kisses were more soft and tender than Darren’s. They were more passionate which I love. Detaching our lips, we looked each other in the eyes with our blushed faces while catching our breaths.

“You don’t know how long I waited to do that,” he whispered.

“Too damn long?” I chuckled. “So, what now?”

“A trip to the Air and Space Smithsonian next week?” He suggested. “I heard they have a new exhibit about Pluto.”

“That sounds great.”

[sixminutestoriesblog]

new years traditions around the world

Humans like their superstitions. The world is so random and abstract and there is so much that we can't, no matter how hard we try, control. And yet, its human nature not to be content to let 'Fate' decide our - well - fate. Some of our oldest stories are about heroes doing exactly that, trying to avoid what life has set down for them. Often they don't succeed but it doesn't stop the next hero's story from trying.

And - every now and then, some hero, somewhere, does win.

What better time to try to set the record straight, determine the future and ward away disasters than as the clock turns over and gives us an entirely new year? So, today, let's talk about New Year's Eve superstitions and see just how many we're willing to do, not because we believe them but because, deep down, we figure why not?

Do you want to travel in the upcoming year? In Columbia, they walk, or run, around the block carrying empty suitcases to call it into the new year.

Hoping for a baby in the new year? In Greece, hang a bundle of onions over your front door. Not only will this up your chances of fertility, but onions encourage good luck too.

Want to make sure there are no evil spirits in your house? In Ireland they use their leftover Christmas bread to bang on the house walls to drive any lingering mischief out. In Puerto Rico, they dump a bucket of water out the window to wash evil spirits away. In Japan, Buddhist temples ring their bells 108 times before midnight, each toll driving away a specific vice or sin so that the new year can start clean. Fireworks can drive off evil spirits too. According to the historic Chinese, the loud sounds scare them off.

Want some predictions for the new year? In the Czech Republic, they cut apples in half. If the apple's core looks like a star than next year everyone will meet again, happy and healthy. If it's a cross, someone will soon be very ill. In Columbia, they place three potatoes under the bed, one peeled, on half peeled and the other left alone. At midnight, grab one. If its unpeeled, you will have financial woes. Still in its skin? A year of prosperity. And half and half is - well, half and half. In Ireland, hiding mistletoe under your pillow will let you dream of your future spouse.

Had a bad year you can't wait to see go? Open your doors and windows on new year's eve to let the old year out and the new year in (I suspect this is easier for people living in warmer climes). In Ecuador, they build paper effigies of the bad, usually politicians, and set it on fire! Bonus good luck if you can jump over that fire twelve times. In Japan, they clean their house to wash away the old year and have it fresh and ready for a brand new year.

Looking for a long, healthy life? In Japan, they eat soba, noodles that are as long as the life the consumers want to have.

Aiming for prosperity? In Turkey, they smash pomegranates on their doorstep. The more pieces and the bigger the mess, the better. In the Southern US, you need to get yourself a meal of Hoppin John. Round shapes resemble coins so in the Philippines you want to eat twelve round fruits at midnight. Don't count on the fruit alone though, in the Philippines its also good luck to wear polka dots the last day of the year.

Have a wish you want to come true? In Singapore, they float wishing spheres, giant floating balls people write their wishes on, in the Singapore River. In Russia they write the wish on a piece of paper, burn it and then drink the ashes down in a glass of champagne. In Brazil, jump over seven ocean waves - you get a wish for each one.

Do you just want general good luck? There's a lot of traditions for that. Eat fish - they only swim forward and so will carry you forward into the new year. In Denmark, get your dishes and go break them on your friends' and family's doorstep. The more broken pieces, the more the luck. In Spain, they eat twelve grapes as the clock strikes midnight for good luck but make sure you pay attention to what you're doing and finish by the end of the chimes or you get the opposite in the upcoming year. In Denmark, stand on a chair and 'leap' into the new year as the clock strikes midnight for good luck. Farmers should wish all their livestock a good new year first thing in the morning. Several countries hide a coin or an almond in the new years eve's dessert and whoever finds it will have good luck in the new year. In New York, they sell candy peppermint pigs that come with their own hammers. Smash the pig, eat the candy and get luck in the new year - and help burn off some holiday stress. In Armenia, the first batch of bread baked on the new year bakes in the luck for the rest of the year's cooking. In Turkey, as the clock strikes midnight, sprinkle salt on your doorstep for good luck. In Japan, waking up early to watch the first sunrise of the new year is supposed to bring good luck. In Romania, they toss a coin into a river on new year's eve.

And finally - don't forget to dress for the occasion! In Brazil, they wear white on new year's eve to bring in a year full of peace. You can still be racy though. Apparently the color of your underwear makes a difference.

White – peace and harmony

Silver – innovation

Blue – serenity and friendship

Green – good health and hope

Red – passion

Yellow/gold – money and happiness

Pink – romance and love

Purple – spiritual connection

Orange – creativity

Black – independence

So there you have it.

Happy New Year!

[story-telling]

☢️An atomic morning☢️

(This is my fanfic for Piper Wright from Fallout 4. Post-war but making a little life for themself)

The morning was peaceful, sun coming through the patterned curtains and reflecting off the mirror near the bedroom door, the room smelt of cigarette smoke and perfume.

‘I have told her so many times to not smoke in the bedroom’ you thought to yourself as you rolled out of bed to see her ash tray on her bedside table with half a cigarette stuck in it. Your eyes roll back in your head as you walk towards the wardrobe and pull out your stockings, petticoat and blue polka dotted dress (it was your other half’s favourite colour on you).

Once you carefully placed the dress on and wrapped the belt around your waist you sit at the wooden vanity to do your hair and makeup. The mirror was so slightly cracked at the top corner due to a radroach incident. Slowly taking your rollers out and seeing the curls bounce off your shoulders, you wish you had the same hair type as your partner as hers never has to be curled to be wavy it naturally is, you grab a hairbrush and give your curls a little brush through just to make them looser and apply mascara to your eyelashes and a little lipgloss.

You stand up and slide your slippers on to exit your bedroom, just as your hand was ready to turn the handle you could hear faint music playing in the kitchen downstairs, you can’t help but smile as that means your girlfriend is up and dancing. You tip toe to the landing to get a better sound and recognise the song she is listening to ‘You’re as pretty as a picture by Al Bowlly. Of course it is’ you think to yourself and you continue to tip toe downstairs walking towards the kitchen and suddenly, you see her.

Perfection. Your beautiful partner, Piper Wright. Her hair bouncing just below her shoulders, wearing a shirt and dress pants with black suspenders, you can’t help but look her up and down and think to yourself just how lucky you are to have her. You walk up behind her and hug her from behind and she gasps and spins you around.

“Good morning sweetheart!” She says as she picks you up and spins you, planting a soft kiss on your lips, you are a little stunned to speak for a moment but soon collected yourself enough to say good morning back to her. The taste of coffee and cigarettes on her lips was intoxicating to you, it was her signature scent at this point. You both looked at each other for a moment and just held each other, your arms wrapped around her neck and hers on your waist, you catch yourself rocking side to side with her and melting into her fingers.

“Where are the kids, darling?” You ask her, placing your head on Pipers chest, listening to her heartbeat. Within the year you managed to become with child to two baby girls and you couldn’t have been more thrilled. “Shaun is outside playing with dogmeat and the twins are still in their cots having a nap, I gave them their bottle this morning so you could have a lie in” she moved her hand to push one of your curls behind your ear and she lifts your face towards hers using her fingers under your chin. “You work so hard my love, you need a break” as she whispered those soft little words she planted a kiss on your lips. You were practically putty in her hands at this point and you wish you could stay with her in that spot forever, however, it was still the wasteland out there and all you hear from outside is a large booming sound and you and Piper run to the garden door and run out.

You both stand there and stare at your 9 year old son holding a missile launcher while smiling unknowingly, looking over at your other half as the twins start crying. “So, which one you wanting to handle, pipes?” You ask as you slowly walk back inside the house and leave piper with Shaun outside. “I don’t think I have much choice, do I?” Piper shouts out to you as you cradle one baby at a time to settle them back down.

“Alrighty, Shaun. Let’s talk about safety and why we don’t play with crap like this”. You hear piper talk to Shaun and it warms your heart a little bit

I hope you enjoyed this!! And as always, give it a like and repost!

Mwah mwah 😘

[cassieuncaged]

𝙊𝘾: Thimble Thistle

Baldur’s Gate 3

𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕 𑁍

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎

𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 | Thimble Thistle

𝗮𝗴𝗲 | 35

𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 | 17th of Hammer, 1457

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 | Female

𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 | bisexual

𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗲/𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁𝘆 | deep gnome

place 𝗼𝗳 𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻 | The Underdark

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 | square featuring a strong jaw

𝗲𝘆𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿 | blue with rings of opal and gold

𝗲𝘆𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 | hooded

𝗹𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 | average, upturned at the corners

𝗻𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲 | round but broad

𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲 | especially sensitive to the sun

𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗲 | braids pulled up into twin buns

𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿 | silvery with purple undertones

𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲 | curvy and soft

𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 | 4’7

𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗲 | typical bardic garb and fare, embroidered doublet, minuscule though intricate ruffs, bard rings, a golden belt designed to look like song birds, worn leather boots, muted pastel tunics, laced jerkins, matching pantaloons, anything to make a subtle spectacle and ingratiate a crowd

𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲𝘀 | freckles, a prominent scar across the bridge of her nose, decorative painted polka dots down the center of her face and under her eyes

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗹 | Thimble is incredibly secretive and reserved though you’d never be able to tell. She presents herself as a jovial entertainer who delights in the limelight. In reality, she only reveals what she wants and knows how to manipulate others to get what she wants. Despite this, Thimble is incredibly, loyal, kind and tender to those she trusts.

𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘁𝘀 |

𑁍 humble

𑁍 intuitive

𑁍 vivacious

𑁍 friendly

𑁍 loyal

𝗻𝗲𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘁𝘀 |

𑁍 manipulative

𑁍 insecure

𑁍 obnoxious

𑁍 sneaky

𑁍 careless

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 |

𑁍 big cities (primarily Waterdeep)

𑁍 music and dancing

𑁍 drinking

𑁍 parties

𑁍 her lute

𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 |

𑁍 drow (something she is trying to overcome)

𑁍 combat

𑁍 flutes

𑁍 dresses

𝗵𝗼𝗯𝗯𝗶𝗲𝘀 |

𑁍 playing the lute

𑁍 singing

𑁍 dancing

𑁍 story telling

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇

𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 | is scarred by the abuse and violence she, her family, and friends received

𝗽𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 | has weak ankles and her back constantly aches, resultant of lashing and hobbling when she was a child

𝗵𝘆𝗴𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗲 | bathes when she can, uses perfume to freshen up on the road

𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎

𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀 | married to Gale Dekarios

𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 | dancing, tavern, music, theater

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻(𝘀) | a busking bard

𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗲𝘀 | other than being forced to live in slums of Menzoberranzan enslaved, her parents and siblings were loving folk. It’s a shame she never knew their fates other than the gruesome demise of her sister, Poplar

𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄𝘀 | worships Garl Glittergold. She also believes all individuals should worship who like, even Lolth the Spider Queen. Also interested in the concept of reincarnation, if nothing more than to be reborn from her ashes like a phoenix

dividers by cafekitsune

[littleoddwriter]

Rules, Guidelines, etc.:

[Used to be: ronaldrx]

I'm a hobby writer and mostly write (x Reader) FanFictions and Headcanons. But I am also working on my original story whenever I can, so that I’ll hopefully publish it as an actual book someday. My Ao3.

Here’s a link to my Ko-Fi, in case you want to support me financially. It would mean a lot to me! (Obviously no obligation whatsoever! You never have to pay for anything on my blog, it’s merely an option for donations.)

Also, here are my sideblogs if you’re interested:

Dead Poets Society

Horror

Raúl Esparza

The Simpsons

Only ask for the characters I’ve got listed, please. I’ve written down all of the ones I actually write for, and the list is being updated regularly, as I often find new (actors, whose) characters I write for! (And yes, I always write for every character, so don’t ever worry if you wanna ask for one I haven’t written for in a long time, or ever, it’s fine!) Please always be patient with me. If I haven’t outright declined your request, it’s definitely in the works; even if it has been weeks or months since you’ve sent it in! And only send your requests via ASKs. No DMs or comments, please.

If you have a request, send an Ask to my inbox.

NO sexual NSFW requests, please (more details further down).

Requests = CLOSED (Max. Limit: 10)

Current number of requests: 10

Last updated: October 29, 2023

Masterlists are linked with fandoms/actors/characters below. I WRITE FOR:

ALFRED MOLINA characters:

Doctor Otto Octavius/Doctor Octopus

DAVID DASTMALCHIAN characters:

Abner Krill/Polka-Dot Man

Bob Taylor

Denham

James Lewis

Johnson

Kurt Goreshter

Lonny Crane

Murdoc

Philippe/Abra Kadabra

Simon Lynch

Thomas Schiff

ETHAN HAWKE characters:

Arthur Harrow

Ellison Oswalt

Goodnight Robicheaux

James Sandin

EWAN MCGREGOR characters:

Alex Law

Catcher Block

Christopher Robin

Curt Wild

Dan Torrance

John Bishop

Mark Renton

Obi-Wan Kenobi 

Roman Sionis/Black Mask* (Birds of Prey - Masc!Reader only) [Any other version of Roman Sionis/Black Mask can be with a Gender Neutral/Female!Reader.]

HUGH DANCY characters:

Adam Raki

Cal Roberts

Luke Brandon

Executive ADA Nolan Price

Will Graham

KARL URBAN characters:

Billy Butcher

Black Hat

John Kennex

Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy

Markiplier EGOS:

Darkiplier

Illinois

Wilford Warfstache

Yancy

PAUL DANO characters:

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Edward Nashton/The Riddler

Eli Sunday

Jay (Okja)

Joby Taylor

Klitz

PEDRO PASCAL characters:

Agent Whiskey

Dave York

Dio Morrissey

Eddie

Ezra

Francisco “Catfish” Morales

Marcus Moreno

Marcus Pike

Max Phillips

Maxwell Lord

Oberyn Martell

Ricky Hauk

RAÚL ESPARZA characters:

Bobby

Dr. Frederick Chilton*

Jackson Neill

Jonas Nightingale

Rafael Barba

Characters from 9-1-1 (Lone Star):

Carlos Reyes*

Eddie Diaz

Evan “Buck” Buckley

Howard “Chimney” Han

Josh Russo*

Mateo Chavez

Paul Strickland

Bobby Nash

Tim Rosewater

TK Strand*

Characters from Law and Order(: Special Victims Unit):

Detective/ADA Dominick “Sonny” Carisi, Jr.

Sergeant Mike Dodds

Detective Nick Amaro

Executive ADA Nolan Price

ADA Peter Stone

ADA Rafael Barba

Deputy Chief William Dodds

Little Miss Sunshine:

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Frank*

Our Flag Means Death:

Edward Teach/Blackbeard*

Frenchie

Izzy Hands

Stede Bonnet*

Prisoners (2013):

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Bob Taylor

Detective David Loki

Renfield (2023):

Count Dracula

Robert Montague Renfield

Tedward “Teddy” Lobo

SLASHERS/Horror Film Characters:

Asa Emory/The Collector

Ash J. Williams [I will usually default to Ash from the TV show, unless requested otherwise!]

Billy Lenz (1974)

Billy Loomis

Bo Sinclair

Brahms Heelshire

Bubba Sawyer/Leatherface (TCM 1974 and TCM 2)

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky

Chop Top Sawyer

Corey Cunningham

Dewey Riley

Drayton Sawyer

Herbert West*

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

Lawrence Gordon

Lester Sinclair

Luigi Largo

Mark Hoffman  

Nubbins Sawyer

Pavi Largo

Stu Macher  

Vincent Sinclair

William Easton

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Qui-Gon Jinn

The Girl Next Door:

Klitz

Eli

Characters from The Simpsons:

Cecil Terwilliger*

Fat Tony

Frankie the Squealer

Grady*

Jack Lassen

Johnny Tightlips

Julio*

Legs

Louie

Moe Szyslak

Ned Flanders

Otto Mann

Seymour Skinner

Sideshow Bob

Sideshow Mel

Snake Jailbird

Timothy Lovejoy

Waylon Smithers*

What We Do in the Shadows:

Anton (Movie)

Deacon

Guillermo de la Cruz*

Laszlo Cravensworth

Nandor the Relentless

Viago

Vladislav

* Please note that an asterisk (*) means that these characters are Male/Masc/GenderNeutral!Reader only (including non-binary, of course). Platonic relationships with Female!Reader are possible, but no romantic ones.

If it’s a character that is open to all Readers, and you do not specify in your request what you want, I’ll usually opt for a Gender Neutral Reader by default.

SHIPS, such as:

BlackBonnet (OFMD)

SteddyHands (OFMD)

Black Pete x Lucius Spriggs (OFMD)

Buck x Josh Russo (9-1-1)

Dracfield (Renfield 2023)

Buddie (9-1-1)

Eli x Klitz (The Girl Next Door)

Nandermo (WWDITS)

Herbert West x Dan Cain (Re-Animator)

McKirk (Star Trek: AOS)

Oluwande x Jim Jimenez (OFMD)

Barisi (Law & Order SVU) 

Renfield x Teddy Lobo (Renfield 2023)

Sickrent (Trainspotting/T2)

Stobotnik (Sonic Movie)

Tarlos (9-1-1: Lone Star)

AnderPerry (Dead Poets Society)

ZsaszMask (Birds of Prey)

Lastly, I would like to add things I will NOT write (about):

Sexual NSFW fics/headcanons (I used to write those as you can see in my Masterlists, but I have my reasons for not writing them anymore. Any hints at sexual topics are fine).

Anything related to death as the main subject (this includes deadly diseases, anything fatal, really, etc.).

Anything that romanticizes Mental Illness (my Vent Fics about my own disorders obviously do not romanticize any of it and I do not stand for that).

(Recreational) Drug Use

Extreme Possessive Behaviour and/or Jealousy

Yandere

If you have something you would like me to write for, but you do not see it listed anywhere, please ask me before requesting it, so we can talk about it. I hope you enjoy yourself on my blog and have a good time!

My Asks and DMs are always open for any questions or simply to talk!

- Jesse

[5sospicturesque]

Clearing out my camera roll 9303/?

[bruniciobrunaldo]

Hello, my name is Bruno, I'm 21 and I'm trying to get back on track with writing (also lost my old account) I'm thinking of using this account to express my love for all the fictional characters I love (not only Ash)

Either way, I write for different fandoms, being my thing writing for male readers and readers under the trans umbrella mostly

Who I write for

Slashers

Michael Myers (RZ's too)

Jason Vorhees

Freddy Krueger

Candyman

Leatherface (Bubba Sawyer)

Leatherface (Thomas Hewitt)

Chop Top Sawyer

Nubbins Sawyer

Pinhead

Billy Lenz

Ghostface (Billy Loomis, Stu Macher and Mickey Altieri)

Brahms Heelshire

Vincent Sinclair

Bo Sinclair

Lester Sinclair

Pennywise (1991 and 2017)

Leslie Vernon

Josef (Creep)

Kurt Kunkle

Norman Bates

Martin (1977)

The Creeper (Creepers Jeepers)

Albert Shaw/The Grabber

Marvel

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Bucky Barnes

Bruce Banner

Loki

Mantis

Nebula

Peter Quill/Starlord

Scott Lang/Ant-man

Deadpool

Quicksilver (any)

Jack Russell

Steven Grant

Arthur Harrow

Khonshu

Peter Parker (any)

Doc Ock (Olivia or Otto)

Hobie Brown

Gwen Stacy

George Stacy

Miles Morales

Pavitr Prabhakar

The Spot

DC

(movie or series versions)

Bruce Wayne/Batman

Edward Nygma

Edward Nashton

Arthur Fleck

Joker (Ledger)

Oswald Cobblepot

Jonathan Crane

Abner Krill (Polka Dot-Man)

Harley Quinn

Barry Allen/Flash (movie only)

Ratcatcher 2

Rick Flag

Chris Smith/Peacemaker

Adrian Chase/Vigilante

Disney

Quasimodo

Judge Frollo

Dr. Facilier

Scar

Lottie LaBouf

Jim Hawkins

Madrigal family

Dead by Daylight

David King

Jeff Johanssen

Ace Visconti

Jane Romero

Kate Denson

Felix Richter

Mikaela Reid

Vittorio Toscano

The Trapper

The Nurse

The Doctor

The Huntress

The Legion

Oni

Trickster

Skull Merchant

Other characters

Ash Williams

Carrie White

Dewey Riley

Robert Van Helsing

Coach Boomer

Jareth The Goblin King

Willy Wonka (Chalamet's)

Renfield

Dracula

The Janitor (Willy's Wonderland)

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

Jonathan Byers

Dewey Finn

Beetlejuice (Keaton's)

Hellboy

Abe Sapiens

Prince Nuada

Oc

Mostly for nsfw purposes (mainly monsters)

Yes!

One-shots

Hcs

Drabbles

Nsfw

Freaky nsfw (the monsterfucker kind)

Gore

No!

Long fics

Omegaverse

Scat/Puke

[jokerownsmysoul]

a place to shelter

Summary: Arthur can tell that you need some comfort when you come home after a long day. He makes space for you on his lap, and makes sure to give you all of it.

Warnings: reader is a little down, but nothing too angsty.

Words: 4700

Notes: you ever get this vital need to lay your head on Arthur's lap? As much as I love daydreaming & writing about him laying his head on reader's lap, I really wish I could do the same with him. This piece is just the result of this need. ❤︎ I'm not sure if I expressed fully what it means to me, but I tried. More often than not meaningful things require simple words.

The thunderstorm that had suddenly burst during the afternoon seemed to put an end to the mild days that until then had warned of the arrival of autumn, coming and going between a lukewarm afternoon stroll and a crispy night like little messengers, carrying the announcement that much colder days were finally here.

Once you left work and stepped out on the sidewalk you were surprised to see that the rain had incessantly dripped down on the spiced, bright hues of autumn until they had faded away into a dark shade of grey. The sparkling sky that had refreshed the afternoons throughout October now was seasoned with ash colored, cotton-candied clouds, polka-dotting the skyline far beyond the horizon. A anthracite toned atmosphere enveloped you, as unexpected as was surreal, and very much welcomed by those like you who loved this kind of wheather.

You should bring the umbrella with you, Arthur had told you in the morning as he kissed you have-a-nice-day on the threshold. It’s cloudy outside. I think the sky wants to rain today.

Your heart softened at the memory of it. He was right, after all. He was always right. You protected yourself from the rain under the balcony of your workplace building and lifted your eyes toward the sky, a private smile on your lips as you welcomed the gift this unexpected thunderstorm carried.

The uncontrollable enthusiasm that climbed up the surface of your heart whenever it rained tried to come out by extension, to cleanse your soul of the weariness settled within you like dust. But it had been an exhausting day, and as much as the rain made you happy, this time the coolness in the air wasn’t enough to light up your spirit.

You were cold, and the grey hue that covered the vastness of the sky was reminding you of the same hue of Arthur’s grey sweater. It was standing there above you, coating everything in cloudiness, recalling the warm, woolly embraces of your dear beloved. For a moment, as you kept your eyes fixed on the grey sky, you almost felt like you really were wrapped in one of his embraces. But the grey hue kept standing there above you, not reshaping into the curve of his arms fondled around you, and you kept standing there all alone and without him. Soon, you were met with a sense of lack seeping within you that carried his name. You missed Arthur, and the stormy shaded sky even more now was making you crave for the warmth and affection of him, who still seemed too far away from where you were.

When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by If you smile through your fear and sorrow Smile And maybe tomorrow You'll see the sun come shining through For you

Suddenly you recalled those lines of that one song that used to keep you and Arthur grounded to your love and the hope to find serenity again whenever bad days occured; the lines that most represented what Arthur and his love meant to you.

You smiled to the sentimental parallelism of the situation, feeling almost as if Arthur was bringing you comfort from afar and through music, which wasn’t that far nor different from what he did every day, after all.

“Hello November,” you whispered up above you.

You held firmly your black umbrella over your head, clutching your fingers around the collar of your coat to protect you from the gusts of wind, and sped up pace along the much blessed way back home, eager to see the sun of your life shine through for you again.

You could see the grey horizon following along as you took yet another step. You felt like as if Arthur was walking with and up above you, keeping an eye on you, as you traveled across the city in the rain.

Raindrops dripped down along the contours of the black umbrella and pooled at your feet, a stained trail of rainwater on the checkered floor trailing behind your footsteps like a watered-down shadow when you hurried yourself through the doorway of your building that would lead you to your special darling man. You shook the umbrella from the extra droplets, wiggled your frozen legs, rubbed your palms together in the attempt to warm them up while your body adjusted to the barely-warmer ambient of the lobby. You hadn’t gotten to your apartment yet, but Arthur was getting closer, and this was enough.

But first, you briefly detoured on your path and instead of reaching the elevator you headed to the mailbox to check if the California postcards you and Arthur were eagerly waiting for had been delivered. You’ve fallen in love with his dreamy inclination to collect postcards of places he had never been in but dreamed of. The fondness and care that Arthur put in this longing of his soul almost made you want to cry for how sweet and genuine collecting those postcards was, for what it meant to him. There was so much purity of soul in it. In him. You were happy that upon your love ever growing over time, you’d become an essential part of that, too.

You loved collecting them together now, hanging them up above your nightstands as he already liked to do, on the fridge, tucked in a small box or wallpapered in those perfect spots of your apartment that would’ve granted you to have them always on sight. You couldn’t wait to take photographs of those wonderful beaches yourself and buy new postcards in places you would’ve visited together, to decorate photobooks and the apartment with your own personal snapshots carrying your unique touch and unforgettable memories throughout the journey of your shared life. It was nice to daydream with him, to support his passions and nurture his life dream of visiting California with his one and only person someday.

A meek sigh left you when you saw the metal interior completely empty. You shrugged, the squeaking noise of rusty metal echoing in the room as you turned your keys and closed the mailbox before turning back to your path.

The sight of your door was like a mirage in the desert once you left the elevator. The lingering coziness of the apartment was evident as soon as you opened the door, a real treat for your numb body and more numb heart. You placed your keys on their usual spot, left the umbrella to dry up on its stand. You took off your coat, and a sense of peace and home enveloped you when you saw Arthur’s tan jacket already hanging on the coat rack. He'd had a day off, you knew he was at home. But you could feel the intense smell of his presence lingering in the air, hovering soulprints of cotton and smoke, and that was what really reassured you that he was there.

It amazed you how just the mere feeling of finding yourself at home brought you instant relief. Your safe home, and the presence of Arthur anchored there even when the apartment was empty, acted as a nest of protection shielding you and holding out anything that could hurt you from the outside; a white cloth that wiped away anything unknown from your soul, even in the most distant or hard to reach corners. Everything external soon felt far, far away from you, saved from the thunderstorm scoring beyond the windows.

“Sweet heart, I’m home,” you called out softly. A grin flashed through your lips when you heard no answer, guessing already in what he was absorbed as you secured your coat close to his jacket. You could easily envision his eyes lost somewhere else, focused on his thoughts and funny observations. Before going to find him you stalled on your track and took a minute to lay a gentle caress full of fondness along the tan fabric of the big hoodie.

As you suspected, it was a half-written page of his journal what was keeping him so absorbed. But you were surprised to notice that rather than sitting in his writing corner he had gotten comfortable on the couch, the lamplight turned off despite him sitting right below it, the journal carefully resting on his knees clad in baby blue.

A smile filled your cheeks at the chance of seeing him again after a tiring day. His eyes were still glued down to the page when you walked behind the couch and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. A joyful whimper caused his upper body to tremble in delight while your hands landed to his front, making him grow conscious of your presence.

“Hi,” you coaxed into his ear, nose nudging his sideburn before you planted a soundly kiss to his cheek. He chuckled at the «mwah» echoing from your lips to within the living room, your enthusiasm and the longed comfort of your embrace bringing him to turn his focus on you.

He put his ballpoint pen down, angled his head towards you and gazed at you with clear relief. “Hi,” he answered back. “You're here.”

You nodded and nestled his face, squeezing your arms around him a little tighter. “I'm here.”

“Did the rain catch you?”

“No, your umbrella kept me safe all the way home,” you cooed. “But I need to warm up and get into something more comfortable.”

He held your hands, carrying them to his lips to kiss your freezing knuckles. “I’m glad. I was getting worried.”

“I was in good hands. I felt you with me the whole time,” you said. A thought dawned on you. “I checked the mailbox, still nothing.”

“The postcards want to make themselves wait. I get it,” he sighed, then you heard a low giggle leaving his lips. “That’s what dreams do.”

“I think you’re right.”

You perched further over the back of the couch where the green blanket was resting to hold his cheek, pulling his face toward you as you sought the connection of his lips you couldn’t wait any longer to taste. He leaned back in, the pliant warmth of his lips meeting the numbness of yours. You let his mouth guide the kiss as you molded to his smooth moves, coating your mouth like a blanket, keeping your lips warm with the warmth of his affection seeping in and the longing to see you that had grown inside him throughout the day. You reluctantly pulled apart. “I’m gonna go change, don’t go anywhere.”

He chuckled. “I won’t, ma’am.”

You kissed his cheek just one more time and rushed to the bathroom for a short refreshment of shivering limbs. You followed the next step of self care in the bedroom, where you opened one of Arthur's drawers to borrow his wooly, white-cream cardigan you've knitted for him and a pair of his pajamas pants. You paused for a second to sniff the irresistible hints of Arthur's scent still lingering in between each stitch, closing your eyes before pulling the cardigan over your shoulders and tying the knot of his pants firmly around your waistline to keep them from falling. You looked funny in them and you loved them even more for that. After all, fun was the sentiment that filled your relationship with Arthur, your laughter blossoming from any corner of your loving any time of the day. The grasp of Arthur’s clothes across your skin was keeping you warm and dizzy enough to yearn to come back to him and reconnect with the direct comfort of his body.

When you stepped back in the living room the bluish atmosphere of the approaching dusk had settled in, a opaque haze filling the living room coming from the storm outside the windows. The apartment was made even darker by the presence of the thunderstorm that still continued its persistent ascend over Gotham City and prevented the beans of sunlight to step in. Arthur was waiting for you on the couch, lamplight strangely still turned off despite getting dark soon, journal still opened on his knees and ballpoint pen flowing through words, through worlds.

He raised his eyes and gave you an inviting smile as a request to go to him as soon as he heard the sound of your bare feet on the floor, twinkling in the contentment to see you in your bedtime attire, which meant he could finally have you all for himself. He didn't have to ask you twice. He knew that your need to wear his own clothes intensified when you didn't feel at your best and needed just that extra touch of comfort only he could provide, so he made sure to keep an eye on you as the evening flowed by.

“Why won’t you turn on the lamp? It’s getting dark,” you wondered.

He snorted. “It’s cozier that way.”

“Yeah,” you considered, observing the natural hints the rainlight gave your home, as romantic as candlelight. “I like it better that way, too.”

You stroked his hair for a quick shared moment of tenderness to catch up the mutual lack for each other as you passed him by before heading to the kitchen. “I’m making some tea, want some?”

“Sure. Thank you.” You heard behind your shoulders.

You filled the tea kettle to the brim, then turned on the stove. Your favorite mugs were already ready to use, resting on the sink upside down where you had left them the night before to dry. So instead of getting them ready you fished for two different teabags of your and Arthur’s favorite tea and put them in each correspective mug. You loved to prepare meals for him, especially the hot ones that would granted his soul some relief and restore his tummy. You really loved to give him a whole lot of a little bit of warmth. With the rain thundering in the distance, a hot tea was exactly what you both needed to conquer the colder evening.

The preparation phase was as cherished as the moment when he would take a sip and the hot liquid in his throat would cause satisfaction in his dimpled smile and gratefulness in his gaze as he looked at you. You relished in every little step of the path of taking care of him. Knowing what mug he adored and what he liked, making sure to buy the right ingredients at the grocery store, adding in his mug the flavour of honey he preferred most. He drank black coffee but liked a generous teaspoon of honey in hot drinks, either tea or infusions.

One of the reasons that made this brand of tea your favorite, were the short quotes written on the square sheet of paper at the extremity of each teabag. Something that you cherished more than any fortune cookie. You and Arthur loved to undisclose them, read them together every time you made tea and collect them along with the postcards. You kept them safely in a wooden box or pressed in a specific journal that you shared when a quote spoke intimately to your hearts just a little bit louder. You did not peek as you waited for the tea kettle to sing. You wanted to read them with him.

Instead, you took a look at the kitchen window to your left. Beyond it, the building contours in front of you looked undefinable, covered by a thick cloak of rain that was still falling down fiercely at a steady pace, tapping on the glass like small pebbles thrown by a lover standing on the street below in search of the attention of his damsel, ready to serenade and hopefully courtship her until a unforgettable kiss would occur across the balcony. You took a mental note to dig out a heavy blanket from the closet after dinner in case you woudl’ve needed it overnight.

You were happy to go back to your own personal damoiseau when the tea was finally ready.

“Here you go,” you said, handing out his pink steaming mug to him once you walked back on the living room. “Be careful, it’s very hot.”

Ballpoint pen and journal were put aside on the armrest before he took it with both hands and a soft smile.

He made space for you next to him as you kicked off your slippers and curled up on the couch into the cozy nook his side provided, as close to him as you could. You both took a sip. You tried to swallow along with the tea also your exhaustion, the hot mug warming up the aching spots of your fingers wrapped around it. He turned his focus toward you once the hot mug left his lips; one of his hands instinctively drifted to your ankles, fingers grazing down over your feet for fleeting caresses.

“Your feet are cold,” he considered. Quickly, he made sure to rub his fingers across your toes to warm them up. His hand felt particularly heated after he'd held the mug. The delicate warmth of it, of his weathered palm on you, made you shiver even more so than any thunderstom ever could.

“Guess I’ll need to steal your socks again,” you said with a small smile. You watched him as he grinned, then carried your leg across his lap and started kneading your skin with thoughtfulness. His movements distilled confidence, proof that he knew exactly how to take the situation in hand, how to touch you. Your feet tended to freeze a lot during winter; whether it was through his caresses, his feet clad in white socks cupping your own under the covers overnight to warm them up or through a stolen pair for you to wear, Arthur would always take care of the matter.

You melted into his care and brought a hand to his bedhead, combing back the messy locks the way you bet he’d repeated countless times over the day. His eyelashes fluttered in bliss for a second, your eyes gazed into one another, rejoining with the rediscovery of each other after a long day. “I love coming back from work and finding you already home, waiting for me,” you told him. Coming home and seeing him there felt like to get into bed and find the bedsheets already warmed up for you by someone who longed your return. “I thought about you all day.”

“Me too.” His attempt of drawing himself closer was unsuccessful. With hot mugs in hand it was near impossible to deepen your closeness without burning each other. He opted for slipping his hand under your pijama to drag deeper, elongated brushes along your calf, the goosebumps in your belly not to be missed. “I heard this song on the radio that I wanted to dance with you.”

“Really? I would’ve love to hear it,” you huffed. You lowered one hand onto his, halting his traveling on you to trace the swollen veins running across the back of his hand, your fingertips gently grazing the beloved dimple at the base of his thumb as you sought for his contact. “Would you sing it to me now?”

His eyes sparkled in an instant. You clung to the sleeve of the brown cardigan he was wearing, his white shirt peeking out from underneath it, hoping he would never let you go as he nodded enthusiastically and started to hum for you the beats he could remember by memory. Arthur had in him this innate nature of always remembering any melody he came across during the day. There was always a song stuck in his head, unfurling and ready to come out, either heard on the radio or a new one created in his mind. More often than not, you would catch him swing or whistle to it to express himself freely; with you, or alone unaware of you gazing at him from afar.

You closed your eyes and listened to the sweetness of his voice, letting him be the fulcrum of everything around you. His voice was your favorite song.

Minutes rolled by, and Arthur witnessed your alertness faltering, your shoulders sinking into his cardigan on you, how you were growing silent as you took another sip and your focus started to drift off to the company of the music inside him. He leaned in and paused the tune to kiss your forehead. “Is everything alright?” He asked, a question he already knew the answer of.

“I think I’m just very tired,” you said. “Nothing that being with you can’t fix.”

He understood what you were trying to say and gave you a tender, sympathetic smile. Days like this that he himself had gone through were plenty. The level of fatigue would increase to the point of affecting his heart even more so than his body, and he wished to return home to loving arms ready to hold his fallen tears and comfort him into relaxation.

“Come here.” His voice was inviting when he gestured you to come closer and carefully put his mug next to the lamp on the small table beside him, then freed your mug from your grip that he put on the coffee table in front of you. You didn’t oppose, and let Arthur guide you to turn onto your side so that you could lay your head on his lap. He showed you how much you really, really needed this.

He was warm and comfortable as he cradled you safely onto him. You didn’t waste time and sank into his hold with a soft hum as you adjusted to the new position, legs curled on the couch and your head resting on his lap. The pads of his fingers were gentle and considerate when he began to stroke your hair. He always got you. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you nuzzled his lap, the fabric of his baby blue pants soft under your cheek. You couldn’t help yourself but caress the outline of his pretty knee with your pads in tender circles. “I want to listen to your voice.”

“Okay,” he said softly.

He began to hum again the melody left imprinted inside him since morning, the balmy timbre of his voice echoing and intermingling with the pitter-patter of the rain in the background. His voice soon lulled you into a state of peacefulness.

As you listened to him, you thought about how much his voice and the comfort of him were more soothing than any hot cup of tea, how easily he managed to restore your inner numbness with the warmth of his good heart.

He seeped into you, warmed you from the inside like the first sip of hot coffee that brought relief down your throat, a handmade cardigan shielding the shivers running along your back. Arthur was like holding a hot mug during winter with freezing hands and finding relief in its heat, a glow cleansing all your senses. You were so grateful to him for loving you that way. For being there with you, always so present, for walking in the space of your distress and following you on its road wherever you needed to go until you would feel better, without you having to ask him.

As he sang for you, his fingers kept stroking your hair all along, following a soothing pattern that spoke of how much he cared for you. There was so much strenght that his hands managed to stir within you.

Your eyelids soon started to grow heavy, accompanied by his soporific humming. Although your distress remained there, you could feel it stepping aside a little to welcome something new, something that felt a lot like solace.

You wanted to give in to this much-needed slumber, but before you could your eye fell on your mug resting on the coffee table in front of you. The papered extremity of the teabag was hanging from the mug in a strategic way that allowed you to read the quote written on it.

“Let your heart guide you,” you recited by default over his humming.

“Mhm?”

“What the daily quote in my teabag reads today. Let your heart guide you,” you repeated. You turned onto your back, locked your eyes with his when his face came into your view. “I guess I did. It guided me to you.”

Your heart lept when his gaze brimmed with tenderness. “I’m glad you did,” he said with a relieved smile, thumb tucking a stray lock behind your ear. “I'm glad that your heart knew my steps,” he added with a more serious tone.

You both knew what the other was thinking as your eyes soaked into one another; thoughts of how grateful you were that your hearts had known how to find each other.

Your hearts would always be guided to the other half.

He marveled at you from above, corners of his eyes crinkled irresistibly followed along your features, and you felt again fondled in his embrace. This time, thank God, you really were. “It's a special quote. We should put it on the journal.”

A lovesick, sleepy smile blossomed on your face, filled with the blessing of him being yours. You nodded. “Yes. Let's put it there.”

He held your cheek like the most precious little thing and leaned down, enveloping your lips into a thoughtful kiss. His hair tickled your face; a sweet-smelling, brown kind of curtains to cut off the world around you. His honeyed tongue tasted sweet as he swiped it in between your lips to pull your own into a flavored embrace, making you sigh for the reverence he poured inside your soul.

Ever-growing green eyes gaped at you when he pulled away, soft curls whispered along his cheekbones and hung towards you as though they wanted to reach you again, the extremely squishy skin under his chin begging for your nibbling. His wrinkles looked so pretty. You lifted your hand up and carried it on his face, caressing with your pads the deep hollow carved onto his cheek that you knew would expand and turn into a dimple whenever he smiled. It didn’t take long. The corners of his mouth bent upwards and just as you thought there it was, that irresistible dimple coming to life under your fingertip. He was ravishing.

“I thought thunderstorms were the most beautiful thing this world could ever give me, but then I saw you,” you declared as a soft-spoken poem, completely enamored of all that he was. You yawned and your eyes barely managed to stay open.

Arthur ducked his chin, a blushy giggle before your sweetness. He could tell it had become difficult for you to resist the drowsiness that was pressing on your eyelids. “You need to sleep,” he encouraged you gently.

With a sigh, you turned onto your side so that you could face him and snuggled comfortably onto his lap. You laid a chaste kiss on his tummy that made him giggle as you nuzzled closer into the cocoon that was him, burying your face in the fabric of his brown cardigan. His smell made you dizzy. He took the green blanket resting on the back of the couch and draped it over your shoulders.

Everything was warm around you; his body present for you, his voice, the green blanket that smelled of him. There was nothing you couldn’t overcome if he was there.

“You’re better than any cup of tea on a rainy day, Arth,” you mumbled at last as you closed your eyes, unable to stay awake much longer.

“Sleep, my darling, sleep well,” he said in hushed whispers. “I’ll make you a nice dinner when you’ll wake up. I'll sing over your dreams for as long as you need.”

You let tiredness take over, lulled by the phantom of his words into a drowsy haze. Arthur started humming the tune for you again. You had no doubt that at some point during the evening you would've danced to this tune together as he’d wished to do, over dinner or barefoot before getting into bed. 

You surrendered to a peaceful slumber, feeling safe and protected in the cozy place that was his lap, where you could always find some rest, healing, and that was meant to be only yours till the very end. You would always find a place in him to shelter yourself from any rainy mood.

*****

No other love can warm my heart Now that I've known the comfort of your arms No other love, let no other love Know the wonder of your spell

― no other love. ♡

•••••

tag list: @arthurflecksgirl @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @sweet-nothings04 @flowerglitterwoman @forever-fleck​ @ajokeformur-ray​

[chaifootsteps]

Heyo, it's What If Anon, here with some moth based alternative names for Vaggie!

Ash: Based on the ashworth's rustic moth, and fits her color pallette.

Dot: Based on the dot moth, give her a polka dot skirt and it'd be adorable.

Rosy: Based on the rosy underwing moth, fits her well, especially with her red ribbon.

Barberry: Based on the barberry carpet moth, which could've been an actually subtle sex pun name. Also Charlie could call her my sweet berry <3

This has been moth based alternative names for Vaggie!

Ooh, I like Ash! Is suits her!

[3000gaypitbulls]

Ask and you shall receive: stoner dude hcs 😈😈

Ly guys

- Coughs like he’s 89 and on life support UNLESS it’s a bong

- Is a grown ass adult but still hides his shit like he’s 17 with helicopter parents

- Insane piece/glass collection

- Trailer smells louder than a highschool bathroom

- Perpetually stoned

- Prefers joints and dabs

- Has a professional growing set up in his closet (keeps his clothes on the floor) and runs that shit like Walter white

- Smokes butt booty naked most of the time (dropped ashes on his balls once)

- Looks at his hands for too long and starts hyperventilating

- Started crying one time bc he saw a lemon

- He doesn’t smoke roaches he eats them

- Has a pipe that looks like a gun (the mouthpiece is the barrel lol)

- His pockets always have little bud crumbs in them

- Makes and sells edibles (he wears a silly little polka dot apron)

- Paradise’s singular plug tbh

- Ate insulation one time bc he was hungry and thought it was cotton candy (hospital bill was wild)

- Hates when people ask him “sativa or indica” bc he’s a hybrid man all the way

- Favorite strain is lemon meringue

- He be chillin in the weirdest most uncomfortable looking positions

- Nearly killed the neighbor’s dog one time after pouring bong water in its water bowl

- Loves smoking in the bath (be lighting candles n shit)

[bumblebeeappletree]

The combination of iron & tannin is an amazing way to make dark colors for printing designs on textile. With the help of a tannin-rich dye source like tea, you can bring deep natural tones to the fiber while keeping the warm neutral background hues. Join me as I brew rooibos tea for dyeing cotton & make a polka dot design using iron water (ferrous sulfate).

CHAPTERS

0:00 Introduction - Iron & tea tannin printing

1:28 Iron + tannin

3:08 Tannin sources

5:29 Rooibos tea dye

8:04 Iron water

10:28 Printing set-up

11:52 Thickeners

13:00 Printing with iron

15:43 Post print prep

17:19 Cold tea soak

17:46 Results

18:58 Wrap up

19:14 Sneak peek of next tutorial

19:39 Blooper

SUPPLY LIST

Textile - cotton shown in video

Tea - rooibos dye shown in video

Iron water - ferrous sulfate powder

Sodium carbonate - washing soda or soda ash

Bowls

Measuring spoons

Pot with lid

Tongs

Spoon

Mark-making tools - sponge, brush, stencil, etc.

Painter's tape

Scrap cloth for blotting

[zedpercyfan]

Left Behind - Chapter 2

Left Behind

“YEAH, it’s me,” said Ash, stunned.  “Hi Misty.”

“Mm.”  Without another word Misty stood up and brushed the dirt from herself.

“Pikachupi!”  Pikachu leapt happily toward her. Misty laughed as she caught him.

“Aw, hey Pika Pal!”  She grinned as she lightly pushed him onto her shoulders and extended a hand down to Ash who was too stunned to move.

“Here.”  Ash took it.  Her hand was soft and firm all at once, probably hardened by all the time she presumably spent swimming.  She was also noticeably short, or maybe that was just because he had never processed their height changes the last time he saw her in Alola.

As he stood up, exhaustion seemed to have finally caught up with him as he felt disgusted upon realizing how sweaty he was.

“Sorry about running into you like that.  Are you hur— ow!” Ash winced as he felt pain in his shoulder.

Misty cricked her back and grunted.  “Yeah, no surprise there.  A fall like that would do something.  Besides, I think that fall got me in the knee.”  She pointed toward a slight cut in her left kneecap.

“I’ll call a hospital then.”

Misty waved her hands.  “It’s not that serious.  Probably just need a rest.  Come on, we can rest under that tree.”

They dragged their bikes off the path and both hobbled wearily toward the tree before heaving sighs as their backs met its strong trunk.

As he caught his breath, Ash took the time to look at her.  Despite their ages, she still maintained a youthful look as if she never left her teenage years.  Ash bit his lip – he had thrown the odd thought about her here and there back when they were traveling together but now the word beautiful seemed to come to mind too easily.

Meanwhile Pikachu happily snuggled against Misty before hopping off and then climbed up the tree.  Misty watched him go before pulling out a Pokeball.  “Azurill!” smiled the Polka Dot Pokémon before it noticed Pikachu and happily scampered off to join him

Misty turned to Ash.  “Jeez, what was that crash about?  You were doing quite the mileage climbing up that slope.”

“Er, yeah… I was just really trying to get up it.”

“My fault for stopping in the middle of the road anyways.”

“Don’t blame yourself.  I wasn’t really paying attention anyhow.”

“Well, what happened, happened.  So, it’s been a while since we last saw each other!  I didn’t expect to find you here.  What were you even doing?”

Ash scratched the back of his neck wearily with his other arm before he decided on, “I just wanted to take a ride, get out of the house, y’know.”

“Heh, I get that,” smiled Misty.  “It’s so boring to be couped up in doors.”

“Not least when there’s a whole world out here to explore.”  Ash paused but decided against spilling his heard over his present concerns.  “It’s more fun to be out and about.  Routines are dull frankly.”

Misty didn’t reply, so Ash continued.  “So what brought you this way?  You’re quite a ways away from Cerulean.”  He hadn’t noticed before where they were.

“Ash, we’re outside Cerulean City,” said Misty blankly.

“…”

“We’re near Rifure Village, it’s near the city.  A district if you will.”

“Oh, I see… Um, what are you doing here then?” said Ash.

“An elderly man here makes my Cascade Badges.  I needed a fresh supply.”  She pulled out a case and revealed the blue teardrop items.  “See?”

“Huh, I had no idea.”

Misty chuckled as she stuffed them back into her backpack.  “It’s not the sort of thing that every Trainer would know.  Just nitty-gritty stuff that Gym Leaders have to.  Anyways, what have you been up to?  Last time I saw ya was in Alola.  Mrs. Ketchum says you’re a research-something!”

Ash’s eyes lit up.  “A Research Fellow as Professor Cerise puts it.  Me and a friend, Goh, go out around the region and abroad to get data on Pokémon.  It’s a lot of fun.  I could show you some of the footage I’ve been able to get.”

“Oh, dude, yes please!”

He pulled out his phone and showed the various things he and Goh had captured for the Professor.  She asked all sorts of questions and Ash did his best to answer them.

“Wow, that’s awesome, Ash,” said Misty after a while.  “I bet you love this job.”

“I do!” said Ash as he pocketed the device.  “Always fun to get up close and personal with all sorts of Pokémon!”

“Pika!”

“Even better than training to become a Pokémon Master…?” smiled Misty smugly.

Ash glared at her.  “Yeah right!  I still have becoming a Pokémon Master on my mind.  I intend to beat the current best Trainer in the whole world Leon someday you know.”

“Good to know some things stay the same with ya, which is a relief,” laughed Misty as she hugged her legs, feeling up her kneecap.  The comment struck Ash as odd but refused to think further of it.  “I assume that you’re not working right now?”

“Yeah, Professor Cerise put me on a two-week vacation,” said Ash quietly.  “He won’t listen to me even when I said I’m fine.  Something about being officially banned from the job.  So I’ve been spending time back home in Pallet Town.”

“What do you make of all the developments that have been going on there lately?”

“I’m not a fan of it, to be honest,” replied Ash flatly.  “Makes the place seem less like the hometown I knew once.”

“Yeah, it sort of makes the place a bit too cramped.  Haven’t seen it myself in-person but I heard it’s quite the big change.”

Ash grimaced and huffed a sigh.  “It’s a change for the worse if you ask me.  I got quite the shock when I saw it.”

“I can imagine it would be if you weren’t expecting it at a place like home.”

“It wasn’t just Pallet Town that changed either,” sighed Ash.  “Not long ago I found out Clemont and Serena have been married for a while.  I was surprised because it turned out that I’d missed the announcement about his proposal to her and then after that I found out about…”  And Ash continued from there, spilling to her all his recent revelations that had caught him off guard and all the anxieties it gave him.

He hadn’t intended to open to her about it, she was, after all, one of those things he was anxious about.  Yet somehow knowing he was saying it to her made him feel like he could.  He could get his thoughts across with ease.

“…so, Gary and this Leaf girl were getting married, and no one thought to inform you about it – is that right?” Misty asked slowly.

“Yeah.”

“Damn.  That…that is rough.  I’m sorry to hear that happened.”  She paused and considered for a moment.  “I understand how you feel.  Daisy just ran off a few years ago because a family friend was getting married, and I wasn’t told either.  Still, though, crap like this happens a lot, and we just tend to miss out on it.”

“I…I know,” he sighed.  “I just…I don’t…I don’t mind that all of these things happen.  Serena, May, they can get with whoever they want.  I just…”  He struggled to find his words but couldn’t.

“You just…?”  She raised an eyebrow; unsure what Ash was thinking.  “I mean…they don’t need to tell us everything.”

“I know that.  I just don’t like how I’m only told about it afterwards.  It feels like none of my friends or family want to tell me anything.  Like me knowing stuff is just an afterthought.”  At that moment tears began to well in his eyes. “I just feel…lonely.”

“Like you don’t matter?”

“Like being left behind,” he muttered as he knocked his head into his knees.

Misty slowly nodded.  “I see.  That…that’s understandable.  It’s a real crappy feeling, isn’t it?  I get it, I totally get it…”  She stretched her hand toward the sky as some Pidgeys flew ahead. “It’s like a feeling of contentedness standing in a peaceful flower field, and then – BOOM – a stampede of Pokémon just storm through, ruining the peace and it throws us for a loop and it’s ugly and it makes us uncertain.  Like a Pokémon battle and never once are we sure if we’ll win the battle or not but it’s so close yet so unattainable.”  Ash gave the slightest of smiles in amusement at the analogy which Misty was pleased to see.  “And it sucks, and I get feeling upset but at the same time I wouldn’t call it the worst thing ever and that it means the people around us are leaving us behind.”

“Then what would you call it?” said Ash as he turned to look at her.  His countenance confused and still looking hurt.  “It still feels weird not to be told or given a heads up about marriage or rebuilding a house.”

“There’s always more to it than that.  It’s not uncommon that people don’t always say every little detail about their lives and relationships, it’s upsetting but it’s not a bad thing.”

“It’s not?”

“No, cause everybody’s an individual, and sometimes there are things they’re going through and focusing on that we have no input on whatsoever.”  They both turned to watch their Pokémon playing on the grass in front of them.  “Life’s just stupid like that and we’re all just playing catch up with it.”

He paused to consider what she said.  It made sense even though he couldn’t fully grasp it just yet.  “Yeah, I guess so.  Still sucks.”

“Understandable,” she replied.  “Here’s my advice and I wish I could say I follow this precisely, but I can’t. Regardless, I’d encourage you to keep a more active presence in everyone’s lives.  That’s the best way to establish that you want consistent involvement with their lives.”

“Does…it work like that?”

“Absolutely.” She paused and then shrugged before throwing two Pokeblocks at Azurill and Pikachu.  “Or at least in theory.  I do the same with my sisters and a few of our friends but things with the Gym have been so busy this year because of the League that I haven’t always been able to keep up with everyone.”

“Mm,” said Ash as a cheeky grin emerged.  “Well, that explains your lack of any social media presence.”

“Oh, lay off it!” she replied with a benign slap to his right shoulder.

Ash couldn’t help but pretend to be wounded.  “Ow.  Help, I’ve been mortally injured!”  The two laughed at their antics.  “No, but seriously, Misty,” Ash went on.  “Does what you say work?”

Misty smiled.  “I can’t guarantee anything, but it’s a start.  Keep your head up high, Ash Ketchum.  You just need to have a bit more courage to say what you feel and I’m sure our friends will respond to those feelings.”

“Thanks,” he replied.  He then noticed her going into her backpack before pulling out some snacks and offered some to him.  “So,” he said with some crackers still in his mouth, “things have been really busy at the Gym, huh?”

“Yeah, the League’s got more and more Trainers registered than ever before.  I’ve been busy with matches and then having to do all the maintenance.  Then couple that with me being involved in the business side and the occasional on-stage performances of shows for Daisy and Lily and that’s me tuckered out every week.  Not to mention all my personal affairs.”

“Mm, I get it.”  The last thing she said worried Ash.  Hearing ‘personal affairs’ sounded like code for something more going on in her life.  “Not to mention all your recent TV appearances, right?”  Misty’s face was slightly shocked before she smiled at the observation.  “Must be tough being one of Kanto’s internationally known beauties, right?”

Misty’s face went scarlet and hid it in her hands.  “You jerk!” she squeaked playfully.

“Hey, I’m not the one who referred to herself like that.”

“Says the self-proclaimed Pokémon Master,” she replied as she peaked out of her cupped hands.

“Only I don’t let it get to me.”

“Touche.  Though I will say, it’s sort of been paying off.  A magazine recently asked if I’d pose for them in their new line of swimsuits.”

Ash stared and felt himself going red.  “Y-you’re a swimsuit model?”

“An amateur really.  I don’t think I have the bravery to really do it for long.  Though doing so has opened me up to new people and connections, so that’s nice.”

“Bet that’s been making you popular.”

“Yeah…as if I wasn’t already popular enough as a Gym Leader.  Blood connections to the Cerulean Sisters and now this.  I’m sure you’re popular too as Alola’s first champion but as a girl…I get a lot of unwanted attention.”

Ash nodded awkwardly.  “Yeah, I…I bet.”  An awkward silence followed.  It was followed by an uncomfortable thought.  “So, popular as a girl now, eh?  A…first for you, in a way.”

“I do recall complaining about that when we journeyed together.  It’s sort of fun now that I’m reaping the benefits.”

“I bet,” said Ash as he turned away.  Her smile sent a weird feeling into his heart.  “A lot’s been happening for you like everyone else.”

“Yeah, a lot of changes.  Of course, I never meant to keep it a secret.  All of its recent and I’ve just been too tired to address it online.”

“Understandable,” replied Ash.  There was still one burning question for him, however.  “Hey Misty, do you have a boyfriend?”

He said it calmly and without feeling, but deep-down Ash’s heart raced with hesitation.  “I don’t,” she replied.

“Oh,” he said.  He wanted to be surprised but he held his reaction down, he didn’t want to say it outright, “I’m surprised.”

“I haven’t had the time to with all my duties.  Besides, I haven’t really found the right one just yet.”  Ash blinked slightly as he found the syntax odd and gave an ‘oh.’  “You’re asking me because of the whole things with all our friends getting together and stuff, right?” Misty went on.

“Yeah.”

“Well,” she said slowly as she looked at him, “there’s no need to worry about me dropping that kind of bombshell on you anytime soon, Ash.  I just haven’t found my soulmate yet.  Maybe one day…” she added wistfully.  She stood up and stretched, rubbing her knee.  Ash stood up too.  “Right, just about recovered… I should be getting home now.”

He watched her walk toward her bike as Pikachu ran up and onto his shoulder.  “Hey!” he called.  “Are you opening up the Gym when you get there after all the traveling you’ve been doing?”

Misty looked back at him as she raised her bike.  “Always excited about a Gym battle, aren’t you?  No, truth be told I’m too tired to accept a challenger.  I was just planning on checking in, eat lunch, and spend the rest of the day off.  Why?”

His fingers twitched slightly as he felt sweat forming on his palm and forehead.  “I-if you’re not busy then – um…would… would you consider going on a date with me?”

“Eh!?”

“Pikapi!”

“Uh.” Ash faltered.  The words had come out before he’d even time to properly think about it.  He racked his brain in confusion when his stomach growled.  “Well – er – see I-I was just wonderin’ if you’d like to go and have lunch with me a-and seeing as we’re a boy and girl I thought it’d be weird if it wasn’t classed as a…date.”  He never wanted to disappear any more in his life!

“U-um…y-yeah – sure.  W-we can do that.”

“Huh?” Now Ash was just left staring at her and raised his hands halfway, shaking nervously.  “Y-you’re sure?”

“Yes.  I said yes, we can go do that.  You’re hungry, I’m hungry.  Your logic works out in this instance,” she said calmly, despite her red cheeks.

Soon they were biking enroute to Cerulean City.  Ash was in a daze as he followed behind.  Still not quite sure if he was having a dream.

“By the way,” called Misty from up front, “since you dubbed this a date, you know that you’re paying for me, right?”

“Er, yeah, that’s fine by me,” replied Ash.  He paused and just allowed the sound of bike gears moving with the crunching of their tires on the dirt path to fill his ears.  “Hey,” he said after a few seconds, “erm, why’d you agree to going on a date with me…?”

“Just because,” she replied.  “I mean, we’re not total strangers…and – well – why not?  Could be fun if it’s a date.”

“Oh.”  Ash went silent then.  He wasn’t sure but he certainly felt a lot better than he had that morning.

OoOoO

Before Ash was a large seaside fairground.  A large Ferris wheel at the end of a pier, food stalls, fairground games, and a menagerie of other attractions laid out in front of him.

“Wow,” he exclaimed as Misty walked up alongside after storing away their stuff.  “When did this show up?”

“A few years ago,” she replied as they walked along.  “I think you were in Kalos when they finished.  It really doesn’t take too much time to set one up, or so they say.”

“I think I remember seeing something like that in Hoenn.  Me, Brock, May, and Max watched one being set up in a matter of hours.”

“Hey, look at you exercising your memory on something like that!” smiled Misty.

“Oh shush.”  Eventually Ash set his sights on a dried Slowpoke Tails frying place.  “How about here?”

“I love Slowpoke Tails!” she exclaimed.  She gave him a sly look.  “I guess we think alike.”

“Um…” Ash and Pikachu blinked with wonder before smiling.  Misty had already eaten five orders of Slowpoke Tails.  Now Ash and Pikachu weren’t entirely better at seven between them, but this was flabbergasting.

“Can I have one more?” she asked.

Ash blinked out of his stupor. “Sure thing.”  He was about to go do so but then he saw that Misty hadn’t bothered with a slop of sauce on her cheek.  He was going to tell her about it but then remembered that technically this was a date.  “Hold still for me.” And gently used a napkin to wipe it off.

“Oh. Thank you,” she said kindly.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled.  “Although it wasn’t a bad look.  Shows you enjoyed the food.”

“Um, okay…”  Ash was taken aback by the sudden glare she was giving.  “Weird thing to say to a girl on a date.”

“Uh, well, s-see… I-I didn’t mean it like… Well!” stammered Ash, but Misty merely giggled.

“Ha!  You’re fine.  You’re fine!  Let’s just write it off as the joke you probably meant it as,” she said with a wink.

“Yeah, ha ha…”  Ash rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment whilst Misty just smiled.

He got her her extra helping, and soon both made a mess of their respective trays.  “Gosh, you and Pikachu look ridiculous!”

“ME?!  How about a mirror, Mist?”

“At least I didn’t get any on my shirt.”

“Huh…?  GAH!”  He rubbed at the stain furiously! Misty, Azurill, and Pikachu couldn’t help but laugh.

[pnf-lover98]

Some facts about Bia that aren’t really known? :D

Hi! Thank you so much for the ask! Let’s see :P

With a spanish-speaking mom and an english-speaking dad, Bia grew up bilingual. She just speaks English most of the time, but occasionally switches to Spanish when she’s angry - or for romantic purposes as well, because Spanish is a language of love and passion.

She can distinguish a good amount of Portuguese words too if it’s written, given the similarity that some of them bear to Spanish, but she surely can not speak it.

While she likes to dress in a more mainstream, less ‘unconventional’ way, she own a small collection of funny socks - with patterns that range from little hearts, to rainbow polka dots and even to fruits and donuts.

Her musical tastes align with Ash’s and Miss Crawly’s fairly well, ranging from rock to metal. Poor Buster often comes home to find her favorite songs blaring at full volume from the speakers; keeping her music loud helps her focus on her art projects.

Very competitive when it comes to games - especially when playing against her stepfather Floyd, who has always some playful witty comebacks for her.

After college, before moving in Redshore City, where she would spend well over ten years of her life before moving back to Bell City in Calatonia, she lived for a while in Argentina, her mother’s home country. There, she had the chance to reconnect with her mother’s relatives while working in the art department of a soap opera production.

. . .

I would like to take this chance to let you guys know that my inbox is always here at your disposal if any of you would like to send me asks or messages about my OCs (or my project as a whole, of course). I wouldn’t mind occasional drawing requests either :)