#thank you for asking & sorry for the delay!!

[enwoso]

Ooh a bit of an angsty one!

Can we have something about when Alessia transferred from United to Arsenal and how grumpy reacted to the fans (not all fans but quite a lot of them) turning on Alessia?

Something about the transition period and how they adjusted to the new club please!

Love your writing so much!

FOR THE BETTER — alessia russo x child!reader

sorry to whoever requested this that it has taken me so long, i do apologise! this was supposed to be out last week but then i was ill and then life was busy so it’s been a bit delayed but hey better late than never eh?

ALSO thank you all for 400 followers i love and appreciate each and every one of you all<3🥹

navigation -> grumpy universe masterlist

the past couple of weeks had been a whirlwind for alessia but even more so for you. you weren't used to change nor were you a big fan of change.

you'd had basically the same routine your entire life. same bedtime, same favourite teddy, same favourite colour, same amount of sweets you were allowed before bed.

it was all you had ever known and so was manchester.

so when you got home from being australia it was a little weird to you not be going back home with your auntie ella and the other united girls like you usually would after an england camp.

when leaving for the world cup you didn't realise that, that was going to be the last time you were going to be in that home in manchester, the last time you would wake up in that home.

instead, this time you were going back with lotte and the other girls who lived in london for some strange reason unknown to you.

"mummy! where auntie ella going?" you asked as sat on top of the trolley of suitcases as alessia had went to say goodbye to her best friend not knowing when she would next see her.

"back to manchester lovie" she smiled softly, her voice a little shaky. your eyebrows knitted together a litttle, "why we not go with her, we live dere too!" you pouted, your face struck with confusion.

"lovie, we had this talk before we went to australia" alessia had stopped in the airport, dismissing lotte who stood waiting for her. signalling that you'd catch them back up.

"talk?"

"about mummy,, moving to a new club" the blonde spoke calmly trying to re jog your little memory as your mouth opened to an 'o' shape. realisation hitting you that change was happening as the talk memory appeared back into your head.

"your here, i thought you were watching tv in my room" you jumped a little at the sound of your mummy's voice as she came into your room. you'd been playing a game with your dolls on your bedroom floor.

"you wan be this one?" you asked holding up a doll towards your mum as she smiled, nodding and joined you on your bedroom floor.

"before we play though, i actually need to talk to you" your mum sounded serious as a frown appeared on your face, mummy only ever wanted to 'talk' when you had done something you were not supposed to of.

"oh- your not in trouble lovie"

"so mummy has been asked to join a new football club, called arsenal" she explained to you as the doll in your hand dropped slightly. a slight silence filling the room.

"you still play here?" you asked as your mum shook her head, "no lovie it means we have to move down to london"

you paused for a minute, it processing in your head "oh, but who play tag with after training?" you sadly smiled, you would play tag with millie and ona after each training session.

"i'm sure many of the girls will love playing tag with you, beth and leah play there too" mummy said as you looked back up from the ground.

"from england?" you asked as mummy nodded. it took a little convincing from you but once alessia had assured you, after you were a bit hesitant you agreed and didn't feel as sad about leaving manchester.

since the day in the airport, you had settled into your new home in london. it had already been better than manchester as you already seeing your uncles and grandparents more in the past week than you had the entire time that you lived in manchester.

you had made friends at your new nursery, settling in quick — quicker than alessia expected. as well as decorating your room the colour you wanted as well as picking out a new bed, which mummy had described to you as being your first big girl bed.

alessia of course had already started training for preseason. however you hadn't had a chance to go to training with being at nursery so today would be the first time meeting your mummy's teammates.

you were scared.

you don't remember meeting the united girls, to you they had always been there. but mummy said that was because you were just a baby when you first met those girls.

walking hand in hand with your mummy, your other hand holding your elephant teddy, esme which you'd had since you were really little held close and tight to your chest.

your mummy leading you to where she would put her training bag away, along with your bag before leading you down the long corridors to where the team was having lunch.

the arsenal girls knew that you were coming today and had asked alessia what was the best way to introduce themselves to you, not wanting to make you feel overwhelmed by all the new faces.

alessia suggesting that it be one by one as you weren't the biggest fan of big crowds and being fussed over.

you tugged on your mums arm, asking to be picked up as she did placing you on her hip as she walked deeper into the room. there being a few faces which you recognised that being the three england girls but once you spotted some of the other girls you hid your face deep in your mum's neck.

"oh is that you tiny?" beth beamed as you kept your face hidden feeling the movement of alessia sitting down. her hand rubbing up and down your back to try and soothe you, hoping you would come out from your little shell you'd put yourself in.

"she's gone all shy" alessia shrugged as she tried to peel you from your hiding spot, only whines coming from you as you dug your face deeper into her chest.

"shy? if there's one thing tiny isn't and that's shy!" you heard leah say, as well as your mum hum as she nodded her head in agreement.

it was true when you had the chance you could easily talk for england and would most definitely come away with a gold medal in that type of competition. alessia had her brothers and ella to thank for your chattiness even though she loved to hear you ramble on about anything and everything.

“tiny! do you want to see these photos of myle?” beth tried this time, you had been obsessed with the little puppy that beth had just gotten. myle was so small and any time you were at beth’s you would sit and talk to myle — you considered myle to be one of your best friends since you’d moved to arsenal as she too was getting used to all the new faces just like you were.

this seemed to do the trick as you slowly peeled yourself from your mums chest, half your face turning to look at beth, as the other half was covered with your grey elephant teddy. beth who was on her phone more than likely looking for the photos.

you looked up to your mum still unsure as you could see out the corner of your eye the unknown faces of your mummy’s new teammates. your mummy smiling nodding her head enthusiastically as you slowly climbed down from her lap and over to beth who was sat in between leah and viv.

you fingers in your mouth, you other hand having esme the elephant in it as you walked nervously over to beth, standing next to her as she lifted you onto her lap.

her phone screen in front of you as she showed you an arrange of photos of myle, some with a little scarf wrapped around her collar, some of her just lying asleep around beth and viv’s apartment and the rest were myle with some of the girls who were sat in the room with you right now.

“who dat?” you pointed to one of the girls who was holding myle another one of the girls sat next to her as your face scrunched at the unknown people.

“that’s vic and steph, look their over there!” beth pointed the two girls out as they both noticed you looking at them sending you a small wave, as you returned it. alessia watching on as she talked with leah and viv a smile appearing on the blondes face as she watched you slowly come out of your shell.

beth carried on swiping through the photos as you had now learned who kyra, katie, caitlin and stina were sending them all a small shy wave as beth pointed them out in the canteen.

“who dis?” you pointed to the girl in the photo as beth has swiped to the next photo.

“and that’s lia” beth smiled as you looked at her confused, “no that not leah? le there” you frowned as you pointed to the blonde leah who was sat with your mum across the table from you.

beth chuckling lightly at your little misunderstanding, “no tiny, there’s another lia! look there” beth pointed to the other lia as you awh in realisation, sending the lia a little wave like you’d done with the other girls.

“there two leah’s?” you turn to look at beth, who nodded with a smile on her face.

beth carried on, pointing out each of the arsenal girls as you did your signature shy wave at them as beth felt a slight feeling of accomplishment that you’d began to come out your shell, yes you may have not actually met the girls properly but you’d been introduced to and anyway there was plenty of time for you to meet them, the arsenal girls would not only becoming your mummy’s new teammates but they in time would become part of your family.

alessia had now been at arsenal for a few months now and you both had fully settled in, your home in london had finally come together and your room was fully decorated and in your opinion a lot better than your room in manchester.

and now the league had started and you’d now become fully acquainted with all the girls and as your mum had expected once you’d come out your shell, you loved them all.

after beth sat you down and showed you all the girls, it took you a few days to learn all there faces but you had now learned all about them and they had learned all about you and your little habits too.

katie who you learned was irish and had an accent that you found funny as she would say some words funny like the word three always had you in stitches as it sounded like tree, she was cool too as she would let you get away with being a little naughty sometimes.

caitlin, steph and kyra were all australian, they all had a funny accent to you too but the three of them were all different. caitlin was quiet but she would always let you pass the ball to her and play tag with you once training was done.

steph would let you talk to her as she answered all your questions you had about australia especially after just spending the summer there. and kyra well she would help you cause trouble, she would always sit with you and colour as well as dance around the changing room with you when the music was on.

vic was someone who mummy would sometimes take to training, and who mummy would spent a lot of time with when at training. vic was dutch just like viv. and vic wasn’t a big fan of mummy’s driving and on a morning when you were going to training with the as you sat in the back vic would sometimes sit and complain about mummy’s driving as you would sit in the back in your car seat giggling.

and for lia it had taken you a few days to wrap your head around there being two leah’s as in your mind you had only met one leah and that was blonde leah. so you had decided to give them your own nicknames, leah one and lia two just so you didn’t get confused.

as for the rest of the girls they had all been very welcoming to you and your mummy, helping you both to fit in.

and now it was onto the second match of the season against manchester united, the first time alessia was going to be back since she left. to say she was a little nervous was an understatement but she was trying her best not to show it.

“you okay?” lotte asked knowing how much the blonde had been dreading this fixture to come, and it being so early on in the season was not helping. as she walked into the leigh sports village with alessia, you following suit next to her.

wearing your new arsenal shirt, russo printed on the back in big white capital letters over the top of your hoodie it being a cold october night down in manchester something alessia definitely wasn’t missing since moving back down south.

alessia didn’t say anything just nod as she looked over to her england teammate, her lip bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes making sure not to loose you as you three reached the changing room.

you sat on the bench quietly watching your ipad munching on a few snacks you’d been given as your mummy got changed and did her pre match routine.

“mummy?” you looked up from your ipad, your mum doing her hair as you watched her wrap her bobble around her bun. “yes lovie?” she smiled at you.

“we see auntie ella and mazza?” you asked, you knew that arsenal were playing manchester united as you had overheard mummy talking to auntie ella on the phone you then interrupting and talking to ella and how you were excited to see her after a few months not yet being totally used to not seeing her every single day of the week.

the excitement following through the entire week as it was all you had spoken about to anyone you’d seen, even the staff at your nurseries knew.

“after the game we can, i’m sure they are both just excited to see you” she smiled as you nodded excitedly, you little legs swinging from the bench as mummy kissed the top of your head before smoothing out her kit to change into, your attention going back to your ipad.

the match had now begun and was just nearing half time and you were sat with leah one who had come down on the bus with the team, but she still had a big ouchie on her knee meaning she couldn’t play.

you were wrapped in a blanket with your big thick puffer on which mummy had made sure to zip right up before she ran onto the pitch.

watching with a smile, but that smile quickly dropped as then you noticed.

the manchester united fans were booing your mummy. the same fans which would cheer and shout her name while asking her to sign and take photos with her just a few months ago. they were now booing.

the first time you thought maybe it was just a mistake, but then it happened again. every time your mummy touched the ball, they booed.

“why they booing?” you asked, as leah frowned not knowing how to exactly explain it to you but she could tell it was upsetting you.

“i’m not sure tiny” leah sighed as she pulled you onto her lap so you had a better view of the pitch. making sure your blanket was kept around you to keep you from the crisp cold air.

“me no like it” you huffed, a frown not replacing the smile that was on your face moments ago.

“it’s okay, look your mummy’s got the ball, she might score!” leah tried to turn your focus away from the sound of the booing but that’s all you could hear, it was ringing through your ears.

“stop! make it stop le!” you whined shoving your head into her chest as your fingers went into your ears. leah’s heart dropping as she watched you start to cry, deciding it was probably best to take you into back inside away from all the noise.

alessia watched each step that leah took, you in her arms. your face hidden, alessia knew straight away that the noise of the booing as well as the nasty chants were upsetting you. alessia had learned with time to block them out when she was playing but you were young and took things more sensitively.

leah had turned back to try and catch alessia’s eyes, quickly realising alessia was already watching leah. alessia mouthing a quick, ‘is she okay?’ knowing that was probably a silly thing to ask but she did always before running to get the ball from katie, still noticing the quick thumbs up that leah threw towards alessia.

the booing only spurred alessia on more, wanting to play that well that it would silence them. something the travelling arsenal fans had been good at, chanting louder than the many home fans.

leah took you back into the changing room just after half time has finished doing her best to calm you down and distract you — it taking a few laps around the inside of the stadium and a trip to the food van before the tears stopped.

back in the changing room, you sat down on the bench, your ipad propped up as you both began to watch a cartoon as you placed your blanket across your legs and leah knees being extra careful to not hurt her ouchie on her knee.

you both being very consumed by the bright light of the ipad screen you both didn’t even hear the sound of the changing room door go, the girls beginning to pile in at the end of the match.

“hey lovie” you mum cooed softly, placing a hand on your head slightly startling both you and leah. but you were quickly jumping into her arms as she twirled you around.

“you okay now?” she asked softly as you nodded, your arms wrapped around your mummy’s neck not wanting to let go. alessia rubbing her hand up and down your back as you placed a little kiss on your cheek, mouthing a thank you to leah who smiled nodding her head.

“good” alessia whispered, as you let go from hugging you mum as you sat on her hip. “why were they booing” you asked innocently, the same frown appearing from earlier, since you didn’t get a proper answer from leah, you might from mummy.

“there just upset i left that’s all lovie, there silly anyway and there nothing you-” your mummy began as your frown still stayed, “-need to worry about, okay” she finished booping your nose a small smile flashing on your lips.

“i know you love me and that’s all that matters” mummy told you with a smile as you nodded.

“now we need that smile to come back, cause i don’t think auntie ella and mazza will want to see you all grumpy!”

[moonxytcn]

could you do a Billie Eilish x reader fanfic where reader covers one of bullies songs in her live and billie ends up seeing it and forces Finneas to stalk readers social media with her?

cover of Billie's song

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – You cover a Billie song and she makes her brother stalk you on social media

warnings – fluffy

a/n – Thank you for the request and I'm sorry for the delay in posting

English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

–––

You sit in your cozy room, bathed in the soft, glowing light of your fairy lights. Your laptop is propped up on a stack of books, angled just right for your live stream. You glance nervously at the viewer count – there are a few more people than usual tonight. It’s both exciting and terrifying. Your fingers hover over your guitar strings, trembling slightly. Tonight, you’ve decided to cover a Billie Eilish song, a bold choice for your small but dedicated audience.

Taking a deep breath, you adjust the microphone and start strumming the opening chords of "Ocean Eyes." Your voice, a bit shaky at first, gains confidence as you lose yourself in the music. The chat lights up with hearts and encouraging comments. You can almost feel the virtual applause as you finish the last note, a sense of accomplishment washing over you.

Little do you know, on the other side of town, Billie Eilish is lounging on her couch, scrolling through Instagram. She’s idly checking her notifications when she stumbles upon your live stream, shared by a fan account she follows. Intrigued, she taps the link and starts watching. She’s immediately struck by the raw emotion in your voice and the intimate atmosphere you’ve created. There’s something genuine and captivating about your performance.

As soon as the song ends, Billie’s fingers fly across her phone screen. She sends the link to her brother, Finneas, with a simple message: "You have to see this." Finneas, in the middle of mixing a new track in his home studio, pauses when his phone buzzes. With a sigh, he checks the message and clicks the link. Within moments, he’s as engrossed as Billie was.

"We need to find this girl." Billie texts him, excitement bubbling in her words. Finneas, ever the supportive brother, agrees with a chuckle. He begins a deep dive into your social media profiles, following the breadcrumbs you’ve left behind – Instagram, Twitter, even your less active TikTok account. Billie joins in, her heart racing with the thrill of discovery.

Meanwhile, your stream is winding down. You thank your viewers, blushing at the outpouring of love and support. As you log off, your phone buzzes with a notification. Your heart skips a beat when you see that Finneas has followed you on Instagram. You double-check to make sure it’s not a fan account. Nope, it’s the real deal. Before you can process this, another notification pops up – Billie Eilish herself has followed you too.

Your mind races. Is this real? You pinch yourself, just to be sure. The adrenaline surges through your veins as you type a thank you message, fingers fumbling over the keys. You hit send, half-expecting no reply. But to your astonishment, Billie responds almost immediately.

"Loved your cover! Want to chat?" She writes. You stare at the screen, momentarily paralyzed. Billie Eilish wants to talk to you? You quickly type back, trying to keep your cool, and soon you’re exchanging messages, your excitement growing with each reply.

Over the next few days, you find yourself in a whirlwind of communication with Billie and Finneas. They ask about your influences, your favorite songs, and your musical journey. They share stories from their own experiences, offering advice and encouragement. It feels surreal, like a dream you never want to wake from.

Then, one afternoon, your phone rings. It’s a video call from Billie. You take a deep breath and answer, your face breaking into a smile as her familiar features fill the screen.

"Hey!" Billie greets you with a grin. "I was just talking to Finneas, and we think you have an incredible talent. How would you feel about collaborating on something?"

Your heart skips a beat. Collaborate? With Billie Eilish and Finneas? You can hardly believe your ears. You nod eagerly, words failing you for a moment.

"That would be amazing!" You finally manage to say, your voice trembling with excitement. Billie’s smile widens.

"Great! Let’s start brainstorming. I have a few ideas I think you’d really shine on." She says, and just like that, you’re discussing music and melodies, your nerves slowly giving way to pure joy.

Over the next few weeks, you work closely with Billie and Finneas, exchanging ideas and crafting a song that feels like a perfect blend of your styles. The experience is intense, challenging, and incredibly rewarding. You learn so much, not just about music, but about yourself and your potential.

The day the song is released, you watch in awe as it climbs the charts, your name next to Billie’s in the credits. Your phone buzzes non-stop with messages from friends and family, and your social media explodes with new followers and comments.

In your room, the fairy lights casting a warm glow, you strum your guitar and sing along to the song you helped create. It’s more than just a collaboration; it’s a turning point, the start of a new chapter in your life. And it all began with a simple cover, a leap of faith that led to a dream come true.

[tinytinyblogs]

Out? i don't think you need it, darling.

Yandere!skz react when you wanted to go out yourself

Hyung line, Maknae line (coming soon)

💬Hi, I'm sorry for the long delay. Thank you for your request. It might not fully capture the clingy side, but this is what comes to mind when I think about Yandere SKZ. I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you were expecting.

Stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Chan

His smile was always sweet, but with Chan, it felt like there were a thousand secrets lurking behind it, each one more mysterious than the last. He was the perfect boyfriend, showering you with affection and protection, but there was a possessiveness in his demeanor that bordered on obsession. When you mentioned wanting to go out on your own, his smile remained, but it took on a sinister edge, as if he couldn't fathom the idea of you being away from him for even a moment. "Out? Honey, you don't need it," he said softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your cheek. "Right?" His tone was gentle, but there was an unmistakable hint of coercion in his voice, as if he was trying to manipulate you into staying. "But Chan..." you began, but he cut you off before you could finish, his grip on your arm tightening ever so slightly. "Right. You don't need to go out," he insisted, his smile widening into something almost predatory. "Why would you want to leave when you can be here with me, where you belong?" His chuckle sent shivers down your spine, a chilling reminder of his control over you.

You tried to protest, to explain that you needed some time alone, but he wouldn't hear it. "No, honey, there's no way you want to go out alone without me," he said, his smile never faltering, his eyes gleaming with possessive fervor. His hand caressed your cheek, the warmth of his touch contrasting with the cold intensity in his eyes. Despite the smile covering his face, his eyes couldn't hide the hatred for your idea of going out alone. "You're not going anywhere, darling," he said, his voice soft yet commanding, each word laced with an unmistakable demand. He leaned in closer, his smile unwavering, but his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "You’re not leaving my sight, and you’re certainly not walking away from me," he continued, his tone becoming more insistent. "You don’t need to go anywhere," he insisted, trying to make sure you understood the gravity of his words. His eyes bore into yours, as if willing you to see things his way. "Why would you even want to leave?" he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper, almost conspiratorial. "Everything you need is right here, with me. I can give you all the love and protection you could ever want."

Minho

He stayed calm, as if you hadn't said anything. "No," was all he said at first. "But Minho…" you began, but he cut you off by placing the knife he had been using to cut vegetables down on the counter with a deliberate, almost chilling precision. His expression turned cold and intimidating as he looked at you from across the kitchen. "You heard me. It's no," he repeated, stepping closer with a slow, menacing grace, his voice low and commanding. Each step seemed to echo with an unspoken threat. "Are you going to disobey? Didn't you hear what I said?" he demanded, now towering over you. His eyes bore into yours with a fierce intensity that seemed to reach into your very soul, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable under his gaze. "You’re not going anywhere," he declared firmly. "You won’t step out that door. I won’t let you." He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. "After all, I don’t get why you want to go out by yourself," he whispered, his voice dripping with a twisted mix of frustration and possessiveness. "Do you really think I'll let you?"

His hand shot out, gripping your arm with a force that bordered on painful, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer. "You belong here, with me. There's no need for you to go anywhere else. Don’t you understand?" His voice was almost a growl now, filled with a manic desperation. "You won’t step out that door," he repeated, each word a command that brooked no argument. "I won’t let you. You’re mine, and I will keep you safe, even if it means keeping you here with me forever." His eyes gleamed with a dangerous fervor as he leaned even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Why would you want to leave? Everything you need is right here. I can give you all the love and attention you could ever want," he murmured, his voice a mix of dark obsession and unyielding resolve. "You don't need to go anywhere," he insisted, his grip tightening. "Not now, not ever." His voice whispered right beside your ear, sending chills down your spine. "I’ll do anything to take care of you. Don’t you dare act stupid, honey. I wouldn’t like it," he said, his tone both menacing and affectionate. He gave you a small, unsettling smile before turning back to the kitchen to continue cooking.

Changbin

His playful grin persists as he clutches your hand tightly, refusing to let go even as you express your desire to venture out alone. "Why? Why do you want to go out alone?" His tone carries a menacing undertone, his grip intensifying with each passing moment. "It's dangerous out there, you know it," he repeats, his eyes drilling into yours, oblivious to the discomfort his vice-like grip inflicts upon your hand, now reddened. "It's dangerous, and..." he pauses momentarily, struggling to contain his growing madness, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. "And I can't bear the thought of you out there without me to protect you," he declares, his voice escalating in volume as you attempt to reason with him. "I just want to go buy something," you protest, feeling the pain intensify. But he refuses to relent, his determination unwavering. "Even if it's just a simple purchase, I'll take care of it for you. You stay right here," he commands, his demeanor becoming increasingly erratic and possessive.

With his muscular arm still gripping you tightly, he pulls you closer with a force that leaves you breathless, vulnerably thrown against his powerful frame. His eyes lock onto yours, an unwavering, almost predatory gaze that makes you feel both exposed and irresistibly drawn in. The grin spreading across his face grows wider, taking on an almost manic edge, a clear reflection of his uncontainable excitement and intensity. "Got it right?" he asks, his voice a deep, intoxicating mix of amusement and fervor. He leans in, his lips brushing your cheek in a kiss that lingers, sending electric chills down your spine. His breath is hot against your skin as he murmurs, "You don't need to go out. All you need is me." His grip tightens slightly, possessively, as if to punctuate his words. The room seems to close in around you, his presence overwhelming, filling every corner of your awareness with the inescapable certainty of his command.

Hyunjin

As you were getting ready to go out, you told him your plans, expecting a simple acknowledgment. The next thing you know, he's blocking your way to the front door. Hyunjin's smile quickly transforms into an irritated glare. "I didn't say yes to that, did I?" he growls, stepping closer with a predatory intensity. His hand darts out, snatching your bag away and tossing it onto the nearest sofa with a force that makes you flinch. "Going out by yourself would be so dangerous," he continues, his voice a low, ominous rumble. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, the touch both tender and menacing. Before you can react, he pulls you into a hug, his grip possessive and unyielding. "And I don't want to let my beloved be alone out there." He doesn't give you a chance to protest. In a swift, almost dizzying motion, he drags you over to the sofa, pulling you onto his lap. His arms encircle you like a cage, holding you tightly against him. A smile reappears on his face, but it's tinged with an unsettling blend of adoration and obsession.

"I'd be so sad if you left me alone," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "You don't want me to be sad, right?" His eyes bore into yours, their intensity almost hypnotic, leaving you no room to escape. "Right?" he repeats, his voice carrying an unmistakable demand. His gaze is fierce, unrelenting, waiting for you to affirm that you understand and comply with his twisted desire to keep you close. You know he doesn’t take no for an answer, leaving you with no choice. Silently, you nod your head, the gesture small but significant. It's more than enough for him. His expression softens, and a wide smile spreads across his face as if nothing had just transpired. Without hesitation, he pulls you into a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you with an intensity that is both comforting and confining. "I love you, darling... always and forever," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with a fervent sincerity. You feel his breath warm against your ear as he leans in even closer. "I'll never let you go," he whispers, his tone a chilling blend of tenderness and possession.

[themysticaldrumstick]

Life/Development Update.

Uh.. I broke my right wrist after a rather unfortunate accident owing to a flight of stairs and my totally great sense of coordination.

Aaaaand, I have been absolutely SHIT at doing any writing because of it. I feel like crap, it hurts like crap, my writing is crap and the chapter one is STILL unfinished.

PS: This took me.. 3 hours to type, because beeping buttons on the keyboard with my left hand is hard, who knew?

Once again. I'm really sorry. But I have no option but to delay the demo release. However, I promise I'm not abandoning this project and will answer asks, slowly but surely. Thank you for all the love.

Have a great week. Toodles.

[jerzwriter]

Thank you to @alj4890 for this ask from this list! I loved this, and I'm working on your other two now. No need to apologize, dear, how much have I been bugging you in your inbox! lol

Stranded...

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Trope: There's only one bed... Rating: Teen Words: 1,600 Summary: If someone were to ask Ethan or Kaycee how they were getting on during the months following his return from the Amazon they would have used words like civil. Professional. On the best days, perhaps even friends. But how when their trip home from a rural Massachusets hospital goes awry, how will that change?

Participating in @choicesjunechallenge2024 - dialogue prompts are bolded in black in the text (so as not to spoil).

Ask list based on prompts from @creativepromptsforwriting - thank you for the wonderful ideas! The 2 prompts are bolded in purple within the text.

My Complete Masterlist Ethan x Kaycee Masterlist | Open Heart Masterlist

“Well,” Ethan turned back with a half-smile. “At least there aren't any rodents.”

Kaycee rolled her eyes. He insisted on entering the desolate, little cabin first despite being injured. As much as she wanted to argue that if an armed bandit were squatting in their dingy overnight rental, she was in far better condition to handle it than he was, she knew the argument would be futile. Besides, there had been more than a few moments in the past year when she would have been delighted to give the bandit the first shot at Dr. Ramsey. Perhaps this was her chance?

She pushed past him and stepped into the one-room retreat, but it wasn’t as bad as she had expected. Rugged? Yes? Sparce? Without question. But it was neat, clean, and tidy... three of the things Dr. MacClennan valued most of all.

“This isn’t bad.” She opened a small cabinet and smiled; the innkeeper down the road hadn’t lied; there were some treats to be had, and her rumbling stomach couldn’t have been more grateful.

Ripping open a package of Thin Mint cookies, she shoved a few in her mouth and tossed the box Ethan’s way.

“Here,” she smiled when he just barely caught them. “We can’t complain; we’re lucky we found a place at all.”

Ethan did his best to hide his delight as the chocolaty-mint cookies crumbled in his mouth – normally, he’d have a wellness routine to stick to, but right now, this decadent callback to his childhood was just what he needed.

“I still say we could have stayed in my car just fine.”

“Seriously,” Kaycee groaned. “It’s below freezing out there! Not to mention snowing and pitch black. If we hadn’t frozen to death, I’m sure another vehicle would have barreled into us, which may have been a more merciful ending, now that I think of it.”

Ethan turned to her with a huff. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re overdramatic?”

“I don’t know,” Kaycee grinned. “Has anyone told you you should listen when your passenger says it’s best to get gas before you leave civilization?”

He couldn’t decide if he found the smirk on her face more infuriating or alluring, but he knew one thing for sure... she was right on this one.

“I’m sorry. I should have stopped at that Shell station by the hospital.”

The doctors had been summoned to a small hospital in the town of Alford, part of the Edenbrook Rural Medicine program. The director was grateful for their assistance and offered to put them up overnight, but both were eager to return to Boston and saw no reason to delay the long drive. Five hours later, they both realized that hadn't been their best decision.

“Oh, but you have a Citgo credit card, and you get bonus points when you fill up with it. It guarantees you discounts on the Red Sox games, so why would you want to fill up at a Shell before driving onto desolate mountain roads?”

Ethan let out a deep sigh, causing him to wince, before asking Kaycee if she was finished. Noting the pain in his eye, the younger doctor decided to dial her wiseassery back, just a bit.

“Ethan, why don’t you let me examine you. You took quite a fall on that ice...”

“I’m fine. I just twisted my ankle."

“If it’s just your ankle, why did you just wince when you took in a breath?”

He looked at her tenderly as he sat in one of the two wooden chairs next to the smallest table Kaycee had ever seen.

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

Kaycee brought over the rest of the haul from the cabinet, two bottles of water, a box of Cheez-Its, and two granola bars for good measure.

“It’s not much,” she shrugged, “But it will get us through until the morning. There’s a small coffee pot, too...”

“Don’t you dare!” He bellowed. “I can only imagine how horrendous that swill would be! We can make do with the water.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Kaycee chuckled. “Even in these dire straits, you’re still a coffee snob! What are you going to do next? Complain that the cabin doesn’t offer Puccini on surround sound? No quality Scotch on the sideboard?”

He smiled despite himself; he had to admire a woman who knew how to push his every button. Even when she was a colossal pain in the ass.

“No, wiseass! But there is one problem with our accommodation that you might even find complaint-worthy.”

“Nope,” she said, wiping Cheez-It dust from her lips. “See, I’m a grown-up. Desperate times, desperate measures... I’m just grateful we’re here.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Ethan nodded. “Then I guess you haven’t noticed...that.”

He gestured to his left and watched as Kaycee’s face fell. There it was, the sole piece of furniture beside the small table and chairs where they sat, one full-sized mattress nestled between the walls, making it appear even smaller. While Kaycee’s mood dampened, Ethan’s was beginning to perk up when he saw the look of horror on her face.

“Oh, fuck...”  she grimaced.

“What?” He teased. “You’re a grown-up, and desperate times call for desperate measures and all that.”

Kaycee’s mouth went dry, and the two bottles of water they had for the night were going to do nothing to remedy that. She swallowed hard but refused to look Ethan in the eye. “This isn’t funny!” she insisted.

“Do you hear me laughing?”

She turned to him with fire in her eyes.

“Look, it’s fine,” he demurred. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“On the cold, wooden floor? I don’t even think we have another blanket to put atop it?”

“I was a Boy Scout; I’ll survive.”

“Were you nearly forty and injured during your Boy Scout days, Dr. Ramsey,” she sighed. “Look, you take the bed; I’ll take the floor.”

Ethan shook his head; the thought of her shivering on a cold, hard floor was not something he could bear.

“I won’t have it. Why don’t we just share the bed? I promise I’ll stay on my side.”

She looked at the offensive object. It was smaller than her bed back in her room in Boston, and that was pretty small. If they were to share it, it didn’t seem like they’d be getting their own ‘side.’

“I... I don’t know,” she muttered without realizing she said the words.

“Kaycee, we have to be practical. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t slept together before.”

His words hadn’t even hit her ears when he wished he could take them back. He was prepared for the anger in her eyes when they fixed on his – he deserved that – but he wasn't ready to see the pain.

“I know,” she said with a fragile voice, but then the vexation returned. “Twice, in fact. But I have to ask if we make it a third, what far-off land will you need to run off to once we get back to Boston? Considering the Amazon’s already been done.”

“Kaycee,” he said grabbing for her hand, but while there weren’t many places to go in the tiny cabin, she managed to get to the spot furtherst from him in an instant.

“I’m sorry," he said. "That was insensitive of me."

He watched her silhouette in the moonlight as she gazed out the window, rubbing her temples as she grimaced in what he hoped wasn’t pain.

“No, it’s fine,” she replied quickly. “There is no reason for us to make things worse than they are. We can share the bed tonight, it only makes sense. We’re grown-ups. We’re professionals. We can do this.”

“Are... are you sure?”

“Do you have a better solution?” she spat. “But this time, my clothes are staying on.”

"Kaycee," He said, viscerally reaching for her hand, the feel of his touch having a more profound effect than either had anticipated. “I hope you don’t think I expected otherwise.”

She smiled softly, unsure of whether she was relieved, or sad, at his response. “I know...," she whispered, hopping onto the bed. "Let's... let's just go to sleep."

Despite the turmoil, sleep came quickly for Kaycee who was simply exhausted from their day. But the same wasn't true for Ethan. He

Sleep came quicker for Kaycee, who had been exhausted from their day, but Ethan wasn’t as fortunate, he dared not shift in the bed since there was little place for him to go, the slightest shift would feel like an invasion of her space. But the reality was, they had no personal space tonight, and as he felt the heat emanating from her body, he couldn’t help but recall the last time they had been this close, and how many times he had dreamed of it since. He let out a deep sigh. Every time he told himself he was over her, he knew he was lying to himself. But never had it been more difficult to maintain that lie than it was tonight.

But sleep finally did come, and despite the circumstances, it was deeper than he expected, neither waking until the birds chirping near the window became too loud to ignore.

Ethan was the first to open his eyes; the first to endure the inexplicable joy and pain of feeling her hand lying delicately on his hip. He knew it was unintentional, but he pretended to be asleep so he could continue to feel it as long as he could.

When Kaycee woke, she was grateful to see Ethan was still "asleep". She quickly retreated her hand before he was any wiser. Clearing her throat loudly, she rolled onto her side.

“Good morning,” he mumbled groggily.

“Good morning,” she smiled. “Did you manage to get any sleep?”

Ethan rolled over to face her, their faces only inches away.

“Believe it or not, I did. I slept quite well once I managed to fall asleep."

“As did I,” she smiled, and the twinkle in Ethan's eyes grew ever brighter.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

They lay quietly, the sounds of nature and a distant snow plow surrounded them. Not wanting the moment to end, neither made a move.

“Well," Ethan eventually droned. "I suppose we should head out. After we find gas, we can look for someplace to get a proper breakfast.”

He was almost out of bed when Kaycee grabbed his hand. "Ethan, wait. Can we delay getting up a few more minutes, please? I know the real world is waiting for us just outside that door, so can we.... please...."

She didn't have to finish her thoughts, he knew exactly what she was feeling.

"Of course," he smiled, pulling back the covers and slipping back underneath as Kaycee trepidatiously moved closer until her head was on his shoulder. A warm smile came to his lips as he encircled her in his arms, holding her close to him.

They closed their eyes, reveling in the warmth and tenderness that only being this close to each other seemed to deliver. Their dreams had become a reality, even if only for a short time.

"Ethan?" she whispered cautiously.

"Yes?"

"Is this a beginning, or an ending?"

His lips descended onto her forehead, and for a moment all was right in the world.

"I think we're somewhere in between," he replied, as she placed a hand on his chest.

"I'll take that," she whispered. "At least, for now."

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately

[tsams-confessions]

Hiiiii!

I’m the anon who posted this one:

https://www.tumblr.com/dis-aster9255/751383721364668416/sorry-for-how-long-this-confession-is-it-is-just

i genuinely didn’t think people would like/care for the au much! but seeing the response to it really motivated me to start it!!

saw someone ask to know the anon to be able to keep up with the au, so here i ammmmmm-

happy to wait for this to be posted in delay so i can make art for the au in the mean time

thank you all!! <3

linked post

[cherry-pop-elf]

Hello! So, I hope this request is okay to ask, if not, I'm so sorry!!! (Especially as it is a triggering topic) --- TW ‼️‼️ healing from SA

I was wondering about a fic with george where the reader (gender neutral but afab anatomy) has maybe been put through something in the past (left ambiguous), and essentially is just ready to try more intimate stuff with george, and is able to just fully enjoy themself with him? Like a healing sort of thing?

I know this request is kinda different. I've seen your other posts about sensitive topics and thought they were great, and I checked to see what you are/aren't okay with (I hope I didn't get it wrong, if I did, I'm very sorry!), so I thought I'd send this in. I just thought it'd be a healing read! BUT, I understand that it's still sensitive, so totally no worries if that's the case!

Also, I hope this isn't too specific???? I apologise if it is!!!!

I hope that you're having a lovely day ^^

((Sorry it took so long! It’s been finals season, and since it’s such a heavy topic I wanted to be in a good headspace to work on it. Ya know?))

As someone who suffers from self harming ((I have an issue where I just scratch myself and my arms get scratched like crazy. They are vertical, so no one thinks they are ‘real’ self harming scars 🙄)) so writing George on a topic like this would be very comforting to me as well. Thank you for being so brave in asking 🫂 I’m so proud of you for speaking! This will be lovely

Kissable

George Weasley X AFAB reader

Warnings: 18+, heavy talks about Self Harm and Suicidal Ideations, gentle sex, lots of fluff and kisses, body positivity, disabilities, Umbridge, Fred gets to live because we need to lighten this heavy topic, lots of gentleness, wizarding war typical angst, deafness, body dysmphroia, it’s gonna be heavy and descriptive but also there is plenty of comfort to balance. Not sugar coating comfort. Sugaring coating can be so annoying. Trust me. I know

Life sure was different, when the war finally ended. The stress of it all was off everyone’s shoulders. The world was finally able to move forward. Death wasn’t at the doorstep. Life was suppose to be happier, but you still felt like it wasn’t. That you were holding yourself back. That even the battle of Hogwarts didn’t shake you back to reality. You felt bad, and George noticed.

“S’matter, jellybean?” He asked you, as he leaned himself against the railing. Having seen you space out again. Happened alot, but he noticed it more than ever now. As if he wanted to leave you to be stressed after all. This should be a happy time, but somehow it wasn’t.

“Just….Thinking.” You muttered, as you played with the end of your sleeves. You could hear him sigh, a deep one, as he watched. As if he knew something. Something you wish he didn’t. Seemed such a worry was made a reality, when you were both suddenly apparated into his office. A place for privacy, after all.

He’s been suspicious, but a constant wizarding war tends to take your mind off things. Along with busy with a school year, and starting up a business. Made any doubts get overrun with work, and stress, get covered. Not today, though. Not today.

“Love, we need to have a talk. A serious one, please.” That made your heart drop, as he would motion you to join him on the couch. You felt so terrified, as you were forced to sit next to him on it. Now having your hands held by his.

“You know I love you, and I want to take care of you. I love you so very much. We’ve been through so much together. You’ve been there for me, and I want to be there for you. You know that, right?” He asked, as you gave a sheepish nod. Wondering where this was going, but deep down knew he figured it out. He’s had it figured out for a while.

He’s not stupid, after all. You could only hide something like this for so long. Why you never turned on the light, how you used Umbridge as an excuse for anything that was accidentally seen. How you always wore long sleeves, even when going to bed. If you could hide your body, you did. But now? George could understand that pain, and he wasn’t having you suffer in silence anymore.

“Love, it’s ok. You know that, right? I’m not here to judge, or make fun of ya. Gonna be the last person to do that. I mean, look at me. Look at Billy boy. We know a thing or two about getting roughed up.” He tried to not directly say what he wanted to say, in a means to let you be the one to say it. To let YOU be in charge of it.

After the war, he just wasn’t the same. When Fred went in that coma, oh he was in utter hell. He was already recovering from his ear. Now he had to spend every day, wondering if his twin would live or die. How Umbridge caught wind of such a thing, and tried to pull something. Like trying to say Bill was qualified under the Werewolf laws. Oh life was hell, and he had to project somehow. Not the same as you, but to say there wasn’t a taste is an understatement.

“George, I really don’t want to talk about this-“ You tried to weasel out, but his grip on your hands only tightened. The sadness in his eyes left you frozen in place. He wanted to take care of you, and make sure you knew you were safe with him. Such a complicated mess it all was. Just made you feel worse, if anything.

“Love….Let me see you. Please. Let me see all of you. You see me, can I see you?” He tried, and your tears just welled up more. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Why he cared. Your brain just didn’t accept that people can love you. It’s hard to grasp.

“This is different-“ You tried. “Why is it different?” He rebutted. “It just is. It’s different when I do it-“ How the brain was complex, and a pain in the ass to have. Luckily, George knew a thing or two about them. You learn alot when running a joke shop. Kids come to you with so many problems. You learn things you don’t want to.

“I don’t want to force you, but I can’t have you suffer like this anymore. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Jellybean. You were there when I lost my ear. When I thought I was going to lose Fred. Umbridge, everything. Let me be there for you-“ He begged, as he forced your hand onto the side of his head.

Your palm would feel over the scars from the Potion Master Made Spell. How deep they were, and never seemed to properly heal. How familiar the texture was. The smoothness of cut flesh, as he no longer could hear. The lines that cut into his hair, cheek, and even face. It was nothing like what Bill suffered, but it hurt. Hurt no longer being identical.

With a shakey breath, you gave in. Ready to accept him screaming at you in disgust. To say all the mean things people have said to you before. Attention seeker, that you need to make them deeper already, that you look like a cutting board. Every insult, every mean remark. All of it. You accepted your fate, as you rolled up your sleeves.

The air was silent, but it wasn’t heavy. No, it was calm. Like the air was clear. For once, the weight was gone. You couldn’t understand why there was such a feeling of peace. Why wasn’t he looking at you with disgust? With hate? Why was he smiling?

“Hm, kinda remind me of Charlie. He’s got ink like crazy, same for Bill. You’ve seen them. Bills got these protection ruins, and Charlie has as many dragons as possible. You would look good with sleeves.” He smiled, as he gently held your wrist. Truly looking at them, and not flinching at all. He was looking at you. And wanting to make you feel like there was a chance you didn’t have to hide. That you were the center of it all. Not the scars. Not even asking why you had them. He didn’t need to know. He just wanted to know if you knew he could keep you safe.

The fact he started to kiss them was what had you sob. He was kissing something you hated so much. He was accepting it as a part of you. This was just what was part of your life. Your struggles. Your fears. Your hate. He was accepting that, because he loved you. You were what he cared about. Not what people thought.

It was such a tender moment, as you were able to let yourself cry. Let yourself have that good, needed, cry. All the while George took care of you. Kissing your scars, and holding you close. Just wanting you to know you were safe with him. Not rushing you. You never rushed him when he bursted into tears, no matter how random it was. So, you deserved that attention all the same.

“George…You know how I said I wanted us to wait until we were married?” You asked him, as you wiped your eyes. He would brush them aside, as well, as he nodded to you. Keeping his eyes glued with yours, as he tried to show you his full attention.

“It was kinda a lie. I didn’t want you to see me….But I think I’m ready now. I think you can see me now.” You consented, as he smiled. Clearly proud of such a big step. His pride made you want to cry more. There was no shame, or doubt, in those big brown eyes. He didn’t see you as any less, as before the topic was broached. It was as if you simply dyed your hair. It’s still you, under it all.

“I’ve been waiting for this, and I was willing to wait for never even.” He chuckled, as he kissed your cheek. Another reminder he was there for you. Not for some end goal. There was no end goal, with love. There was a continue. A continue for as long as the hearts wanted.

With a gentle kiss to your lips, the two of you were side alonged back into your shared flat. Fred would be able to handle the shop just fine, after all. It’s near closing anyway. With how close those two were, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew where George went. Even as far as why.

“I’ve always wanted to see you. So badly.” He sighed, as he kissed you again. Gentle, and sweet. Not this heated passion in the books or movies. Just tender, and making sure you were taken care of. In every sense of the word. This was love, not sex.

Just gentle kisses, shared between you two, as he helps remove your clothes. Allowing more and more of you to be seen on the surface. Every cut, bruise, stretch mark, imperfection, whatever you had. He was able to finally see it all, and wouldn’t stop kissing each little dot on your skin.

It was so scary. Scary to allow him. He was so proud of you to allow him. To allow him to witness you whole. He was so damn proud. Couldn’t stop his kisses all over your skin. Along with a few little playful ones, like right on your nose. Just wanting to make you smile. Know that you were safe. No matter how vulnerable you were. You allowed him to feel safe, when he lost so much. It’s a crime to not return the favor.

Open mouth kisses would trail over your body, as he helped you lay down on the bed. Slow, sweet, and savoring it. Understanding just how important it all was. No need to rush. No need to treat it as a one and done. This a moment to share, between two people who loved each other. So very very very much.

“You really are beautiful. I know I know. I can say it all I want, but I mean it-!” He whined at the end, making you smile. Ever playful, no matter the mood. Was very soothing. Made any heavy topic easier to deal with. He just made life easier, and his smile could sooth any coals under your feet.

There was one more little kiss to your nose, before he finally allowed himself to strip. His own body full of scars from so many things. War, failed experiments, Umbridge, death eaters, blood purest’s, friends turned enemies, the list goes on. Those scars felt different to you. He didn’t ask for them, yet wasn’t ashamed of them either. The mind can truly be so warped, but George was always one to be fascinated by the world. Willing to dive into that hellscape you call a brain, because you are in there after all.

“You are so beautiful.” He just kept on saying, before his naked body was pressed against yours. Playful little kisses were pressed all over your face, as your skin felt his. Felt his scars on yours, yours were felt on his. Just pure skin contact, as he was holding you close. Loving every little part of you. If it was you, he loved it. Scars and all.

“I’m ready when you are. And if ready is never, eh. Who gives a shit?” He would place another kiss to your nose, before your hands were around his neck. You were trying to mentally psych yourself up, and he was more than happy to wait. Happy to just admire you. Big ole Brown eyes, and a freckled smile.

“Yeah. I’m ready.” You nodded, as he gave you another kiss. One arm was used to prop himself up, as the other found your slit. Just being very gentle, and stroking it. Not yet intruding, but just taking it nice and slow. He was no virgin, after all. But you were, and he was going to treat you right.

Slow, steady, and calculated. A man who was that of an inventor. He knew how to move his fingers. Gentle over your slit, almost ghosting it even. Made you crave more, in such a simple gesture. Those rough fingers on such a sensitive part of your body. All exposed to him.

A kiss to your neck was given, as he finally slipped them in. Had you shiver, but he kept planting kisses on you. Easing you into such a feeling you were growing costumed to. How you always loved his big and rough hands. Always brought you comfort. Now they were bringing you pleasure.

“You already feel so wonderful. Bloody amazing.” He whispered, as he would kiss along your jaw. Just two fingers pushing in and out of you. His thumb even working at your clit, and it had you whimper a bit. Such new stimuli, but he was keeping it slow and gentle. Easing you into it.

“Don’t be shy. I can only hear so much, have mercy on me.” He teases, as it helped bring you back to earth. That this isn’t just sex. You were making love with someone you love. Made you smile, as he kissed the corner of your mouth. Drinking in the soft little breaths you left for him, before he snuck a third finger in.

“Oh you are going to feel so bloody good. I just know it. I can hardly wait any longer.” He moaned for you, as he was picking up his speed. That earned him more sounds from you, as your walls were coating his fingers. Showing you were enjoying yourself, when your voice was lost.

“Are you ready, or was this enough for one day?” More reassurance. That even now, when he’s so close to getting his turn at pleasure, he wanted you to know it didn’t matter. You matter. Almost made you cry.

“I’m ready, Georgie. I mean it. For once, I’m ready.” You would cup his face, and admired him. Those warm eyes, that imperfect unsymmetrical face. Those freckles, those scars, and that beautiful toothy smile. That’s your man, and he was all yours. Never thought you deserved such a wonderful man in your life. In this moment though? You finally accepted it. Even if it was temporary, you were able to fight your brain long enough to say you deserved this man. Seemed George could even see it in your eyes, as he pulled you into a deep kiss.

The tip of his cock felt so hot. As if he was just twitching in need. Had you feel so beautiful. Beautiful to know he was that excited to be with you. Hard to fake a feeling like that, after all. That feeling of a throbbing cock. Just hungry to finally feel you. Feeling you, he did. Finally slipping inside, as you pulled him closer. Moaning into his mouth, as the gesture is returned.

You swore he might be feeling more pleasure from it than yourself. There was a morbid comfort in that. Knowing your body could do such a thing. Ever after so much, it could still do good. Made your body relax, and had you enjoy the ride all the better.

The feeling of his hips meeting yours, and how he rolled them. Feeling those hip bones against your soft flesh. It just itched a scratch you didn’t know you had. Feeling this slender man above you, with his arms tense. Those muscles showing themselves off to you. Freckled and scared. So beautiful to you.

The moans he gave you had you drunk. They sounded so good. You swore you could get off from them alone. The feeling of him moaning into your mouth, as he kept rolling his hips into yours. Fingers tangled together, as you both just enjoyed each other. No need for words. Just embracing what your bodies wanted. The feeling of connection, and love.

It was like a beautiful dream. Nothing else mattered, in that moment. Just the two of you. Making love, and enjoying each other’s company. To feel the air grow heated, and sweat build between you both. How those easy rolls grew in speed, and had you both gasping each other’s names. Fingers holding on tighter to each other, as if afraid to melt into nothing.

“You feel so good-“ He spoke so breathlessly, as he would keep thrusting into you. All the while you moan openly for him. Your hands were trapped under his own, and you would give him squeezes of delight into those callused fingers. Allowing yourself to be louder. A mixture of allowing yourself to enjoy it, and a need to make sure he could hear how much you were indeed enjoying it. It’s the least you can do. Small acts go a long way, and you witnessed such first hand tonight.

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer-“ He admits, sounding so embarrassed. It was cute. He was always so cute. Had you smile, and he smiled back. Your smile seemed to comfort his blushing cheeks, as you two returned another kiss. A kiss, as his hips begun to thrust in an uneven pattern. Had you whimper for him, as he kept true to his word. He didn’t last any longer, and he was soon moaning your name into your mouth. Tangling it in your tongue, and his.

The heat inside felt so satisfying. To let yourself ride a high, and have it be with him. How your legs couldn’t stop themselves, and wrapped around him. Needing to have him as close as your bodies could allow it. As if needing to become one. It was truly like being a fire work. A burst of pleasure, and sounds. It all felt so good, and it truly did feel like it filled a void in your heart that you didn’t know you had.

Coming down from the high was treated slowly. The both of you savoring it. With him holding you, as he stayed where he was. His head snuggled into your neck, as you played with his hair. Your turn in giving him the gentle comfort. Allowing him to use his working ear to enjoy your breathing, and heart. No need to worry about words. Just gentle affection. Embracing each other, and enjoying a moment of existing.

“Worth the wait-?” You asked, as you two were finally in a more clear headspace. He took a moment to think, as he pulled out you. Had you whine, as you liked the feeling. That made him chuckle, as he was soon pulling a blanket over you both.

“Yes. Very much worth the wait.” He would reassure you, as he was now your big spoon. Making sure you felt safe, in yet another vulnerable moment. His legs tangled with yours, as he wrapped his arms around you. Giving you a hug, as he pressed his face in your neck. Enjoying your scent.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, but not out of sadness anymore. But pure relief. You will still have your dark days, but you had a bundle of sunshine to stay there. Stay, and wait, for when you could speak again. He wouldn’t leave you behind when things got rough. He was making sure of that. Not even processing how much this simple act of spoon was bringing such joy. He existed, and it made you existing easier.

“Love you, Georgie.” You said, as you stole a hand to kiss. His own lips returned the gesture, as they were right on your cheek. “Love you more, Jellybean.” He yawned.

That comfort of another body, it was just what you needed. For once, in a long time, you weren’t scared to fall asleep. You were happy to sleep. To get rest, even excited to wake up again. Because you knew one thing, and one thing that changed everything.

He would be there when you woke up, and that was what mattered. He would be there, every time you woke up, and sometimes that’s all it takes to make you wake up.

Your sunshine, always there when the rain clouds came. Always there, and will never leave.

[corrodedcoughin]

So I know celebrity rockstar Eddie with Just-Some-Guy Steve is popular, but what about the opposite?

Steve, who is a professional Basketball player, got scouted from where he played for his college team. The fan fave, the darling of the locals, and one of the best players on the team. Models for sportswear brands, has had interviews and talks at schools and the media loves him. He's handsome, and nice, and has publicly come out.

And then there's Eddie. His boyfriend since college. Just some guy who runs a music store. Started just as a minimum wage worker and then slowly worked his way up to running a small business himself. Sells guitars and drums and other instruments. Vinyl and cds and music merch. Hosts guitar lessons. Is happy playing music because he loves it, not for the fame and money.

Eddie goes to all his games (or as many as he can) and while he's not a sports guy and never will be he loves watching Steve play. Is only about 80% sure of the rules at best and that's good enough for Steve. And Steve who's not a metal fan, and will never be into DnD but will spend his free evenings helping Eddie plan a campaign or listening to this song Eddie's been trying to learn on the guitar.

Idk I just think it's fun to explore the opposite! Eddie getting excited any time he sees people wearing Steve's merch in public and people keep mistaking him for a hardcore fan because no one knows who he is and honestly he's fine with that. He is a big fan of Steve

he's a big fan of steve' MOMO THAT LAST LINE TOOK ME OUT!!!! OHH!!!!

Okay so as always i am IN LOVE with your ideas and where you take them and explore with the space.

Please can I have Eddie who doesn't completely GET sports but he DOES get collecting so he has one of those card books and collects basket ball trading cards. He has a full page of 'Steves' that he every proud of because he's drawn on some of them, giving him different outfits/hair/facial hair/speech bubbles, some include dragon hatcher steve, android steve, malibu barbie steve and pronstache steve (that one wasn't even drawn on, Steve was just trying something new and it got immortailised in a trading card much to Eddie's delight. His personal favourite is a Steve mid spin of the ball on his fingertip, the image of concentration and Eddie has yet to see a photo that highlights the muscle and bite-ability of Steve's arms quite as well as that one.

When Eddie and Steve are out for dinner and Eddie sees a little kid wearing a shirt with Steve's name on it he's quick to point it out to the delight of his boyfriend, both of them trying to figure out a way to subtly let the kid know that 'Harrington' is here.

Eddie who turns up to games with the kids and a foam finger because 'Steve come on its hilarious' but in reality he just loves obnoxiously supporting him. Steve kisses his finger tips and waves to Eddie before running to join the team in the changing rooms. Eddie who catches it and stuffs it in his pocket in the most dramatic way possible. Steve who laughs every time because he wouldn't have it any other way.

[fantastic-nonsense]

Hi! I've never done this before but I'm new to comics (started with WFA and Zatanna and the Ripper) and I've basically got most of my information from posts on tumblr and r/hobbydrama (including yours.) I think I have a general idea of what Jason Todd is like, but I believe a lot of people are unhappy with his new characterisation.

So, if you were the one in charge, how would you write him? Would you write him with a team or as a solo character? Would you have him use the All-Blades or a crowbar or his guns? Would you have him properly rejoin the batfam or not?

Thanks!

Hi! Welcome to the fandom! I hope you're enjoying your time here.

In general, I think DC (and the fandom) has spent too much time milking Jason's death for trauma porn. They have refused to allow him to find closure, move past that, and exist beyond his daddy issues drama with Bruce. When DC has allowed him to have stories outside of that, they were often written with little consideration for what should be done with Jason beyond making him "badass."

None of this has been conducive to creating any kind of satisfying and coherent narrative or character arc for Jason, especially when both writers and editorial seem more obsessed with stealing traits, relationships, and stories from other people to give to him (most prominently Dick, Selina, and Helena). My hottake is that DC should move beyond "Red Hood" as an identity for Jason entirely, because it drags his character down and keeps him inherently tied to the same problems that have kept his character stagnant for years.

However! I don't think he's unsalvagable. I simply think DC needs to put a decent writer on him and commit to a character direction for more than 2 years at a time. I'm unsure of what Shawn Martinbrough is currently doing with Jason in his The Hill arc, as I'm not reading it, but I've heard that there might be some forward momentum finally happening there?

Anyway, my personal conception of Jason's future (as lovingly brainstormed by me and my friends in our comics discord server) is effectively this: he becomes a street-level paranormal detective who solves cold murder cases by talking with the victims' ghosts and providing closure to restless spirits. Think Lockwood and Co. meets Pushing Daisies with a superhero twist; basically, a supernatural detective noir book.

There's a lot of concepts and lore drops tied into this idea, but basically it was born out of a discussion where I was talking about Jason's many connections with the supernatural and occult across all continuities and how it's kind of a mystery why DC hasn't just formally connected him to the mystical side of the DCU. So I was like "they should just reveal that Superboy-Prime’s reality punch resurrection left him LITERALLY undead, make the event where he finds this out also spark his ability to see and communicate with ghosts, and make him an occult detective. Let him close cold case murder files and put those spectres to rest."

Which is also a great premise for a Bat book and a great unfilled niche for a Batfamily member. Kate's supernatural stories are much more high concept and connected to her family drama. Damian's supernatural/occult connections are traditionally very heavily tied to his family history and the Lazarus Pits. Dick's semi-regular magic encounters are usually stuff he deals with alongside his teammates in the course of working with the Titans. None of the other Bats have enough regular encounters with the supernatural and magic side of the DCU for it to encroach on their shtick, and a Gotham-based supernatural book is well within DC's ability to publish and market given books like Gotham by Midnight.

In terms of how that direction affects all the other questions you asked...I think Jason's relationship with the rest of the Batfam should be complicated. I personally don't think "good/bad relationship with the Batfam" is a particularly useful way to look at it because I think there are people he should never see eye to eye with, people he realistically shouldn't and doesn't have a problem with, and people he should get along with just fine. I don't think everyone needs to or should be friends or enemies with him, but his morals and past actions will (and should!) complicate those relationships in interesting ways.

And re: what weapons I'd like to see him use...using the All-Blades would certainly factor into my proposed narrative direction, as that would lean into the supernatural connections, but I generally prefer the concept of Jason using knives as his preferred weapon over guns/a crowbar/etc. That way he can still be a marksman without using guns, and I think that fits more with his character trajectory as someone attempting to be less lethal but also has no problem roughing people up when he thinks they need to be.

[wedontdeservethestars]

Johnny Cage x Edenian Royalty reader who gives up their title and moves to Earthrealm just to be with him?

I might continue this in a later series because I like their dynamic a lot!! So in this one the reader doesn't COMPLETELY forgive up on the crown yet....but the seeds are certainly planted

Content: gn!reader, fluff, some mentions of nsfw subjects but really not a lot, alcohol, kinda just a silly little feel good fic!

(AO3 link here!)

Earthrealm was a mystery. After spending your whole life learning the ways of Outworld and studying the intricate relations between clans and kingdoms, the other plane was unknown to you in a way that you could only describe as strange. But that was okay. You liked strange. Maybe that’s what drew you to Johnny. 

You had only been to Earthrealm briefly before in the days of Shinnok’s terror, and by proxy had met Johnny during that time. Almost immediately, he annoyed you. It seemed to be a common phenomenon. He was brash, rude, vain, and unapologetic about all of it–and all of that bothered you to no end. But he was strong, too, and surprisingly resilient. Even more surprising, he had saved your life on multiple occasions. Each time he pushed you out of the way of some projectile, or ran out into a battle to get ahead of you, or even just checked up on your wounds after a particularly bad fight (which, you noticed, he never did to anyone else), you started to see other things about him beyond his Hollywood-boy persona. Above all, he seemed to have a particular fascination with you. 

It made you sick to your stomach. Even more than that, it made you blush, which in turn only made you feel sicker. 

After everyone had returned home, bruised but victorious, you found your thoughts turning back to Johnny more often than you’d like to admit. You knew your place was here. You felt like you belonged in Edenia, and in Outworld as a whole. Your whole life so far had been spent to one day take the crown and become ruler of the kingdom. Until your travels to Earthrealm, you had never wanted anything else. But now, you found yourself drifting into your mind during important meetings, doodling on scrap paper the alien types of plants you’d encountered there, and missing the feeling of seeing your reflection in the lenses of a certain pair of sunglasses.

Your state worsened. You were chastised for being so distracted all the time and your parents, worried, even referred you to one of the doctors to see if anything was wrong with you. Of course, any unwellness you felt could be easily explained…just not to the Edenians around you. 

Desperate for a cure, you made up your mind one night. Packing only a few things (you planned to return, anyways…eventually…), you snuck out in the middle of the night to one of the sacred grounds in the kingdom. This one, carved out in a cave, was home to a portal. It led to Earthrealm. You heard your father talking about the possibility of sealing it off in the future, citing that “nothing good comes from that wretched place!” You didn’t entirely agree.

After a nauseating travel across realms, trying to navigate a confusing city and an even more confusing transportation system, you wound up at the most gaudy mansion you had ever seen. You looked down at the little slip of paper in your hand–across it was scrawled Johnny’s signature, number, and address. It was something he’d given you right before you parted. You had promised to burn it the second you had time to. You had kept it in your vanity drawer ever since, though you hadn’t ever expected to use it. 

Muffled, strange music met your ears as you stood on the doorstep. Beside the door was a gold plaque that read “Johnny’s Cage.” Well, this was certainly the right place. You raised your hand to knock on the heavy wooden doors, but suddenly there was some kind of barrier. What would you even say to him? You really hadn’t thought that far ahead. You only knew you wanted to see him again. Your arm slowly lowered to your side. Maybe this was a mistake. You were better off forgetting all of this, forgetting him. But…this time, you lifted your knuckles to the door. They rapped politely. You had come this far already. May as well see it through.

The door cracked open and the strange music grew louder. Tinny drums and a horn that sounded like it was underwater filled your ears along with the anxiety welling up in your throat. And, unceremoniously, there was Johnny dressed in nothing but a silk robe and a pair of brightly colored swim trunks. The second he laid eyes on you, his air of curiosity and confusion turned to one of bemused smugness.

“Oh, tell me I’m dreaming,” he chuckled as the opened the door wide. You could see the rest of his home behind him, marble walls and floors and expensive-looking art on the walls and a massive pool right in the center of his living room. 

“No,” you replied, feeling more like you were the one in the dream. “I’m real.”

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, your Highness?” Johnny twirled his hand and gave a little bow. He had never really taken your royal status seriously, only ever acknowledging it in moments of tomfoolery like this. Somehow, at this moment at least, you found it endearing.

“Well…” You took a breath as you tried to decide on your angle. “You gave me your address.”

“I did!” He grinned, and then paused. “You kept it?”

“I did,” you echoed, showing him the slip of paper still clutched in your hand. “I figured it would be rude not to use it.”

“Good thing you had all those Edenian manners lessons.” He laughed at his own joke and turned with an unintentional flourish of his robe. “C’mon in. You want something to drink?”

Not wanting to embarrass yourself with guessing what little foodstuffs Outworld and Earthrealm had in common, you shook your head. “No. Thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” Johnny made a beeline for a bar set-up he had near the pool and started to mix himself something. Getting a better look at the inside of the mansion as you followed him inside, you could see that several of the art hangings were paintings of Johnny himself in various styles. In one, he was posing with a tiger. Vases and statues and weapons lined the corners of the rooms, almost as if the home was afraid to have a single square foot that wasn’t glimmering with something or other. Despite the organized clutter and the loud music that seemed to come from everywhere, you couldn’t help but notice that there only seemed to be only one inhabitant of the place.

“Do you live here alone?” you called out as you examined a series of trophies on a shelf. 

“No! I mean, well, there’s the maids and stuff. And that little guy.” You followed his pointed finger to a little disc-shaped robot trekking across the spotless floors. 

“Oh.” With a polite smile, you approached and crouched beside it. It seemed to pay you no mind, but you continued anyway. “Hello, there.” 

You could hear Johnny stifle a laugh and a snort, but when you looked over at him he was faced away from you, still working on his drink. “He, uh, he doesn’t exactly talk back. But if he could I bet he’d be charmed.”

“Ah.” Trying to force a blush away from your cheeks, you stood up and watched the little thing scoot away, unbothered. 

“You like it here?” Johnny asked, coming up behind you. In a strangely shaped glass was a drink so colorful it looked like it might hurt to swallow, but it seemed to refresh him nonetheless. 

“It’s, uh…it’s very ‘you,’” you smiled a little, motioning to the tiger painting. Johnny laughed. 

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites! Took forever to get that tiger to sit still. Fuckin’ sweet, though.” You turned to get a better look at it again, and when you looked back Johnny had inched closer to you. “So, tell me: what are you really doing here?”

“What do you mean?” you asked. That familiar irritation you often felt with him was slowly making its way back. You didn’t really mind.

“It’s just that I don’t exactly believe that you hopped dimensions on a whim.” A beat as he sipped. “Like, I know I’m irresistible, but come on.”

“Well, that’s sort of what happened,” you laughed softly. “I don’t have a big reason. I just…wanted to see you again.”

“Ohhh.” Johnny flashed you a grin. “Got the Cagester on the brain, huh? A pretty serious infection, I know.”

“You have a very…uh, memorable presence,” you decided on.

“Well, I can’t promise a cure, but I’m here to provide in any way your little royal ass wants,” he murmured, leaning in close to you. That blush you thought you’d taken care of came back with a vengeance. 

“What?” was all you could muster.

“Anywhere you want,” he was grinning. “Could give you a tour of the bedroom. The couch over there is pretty comfy. Or, we could get a little freaky and head into the pool if you’re into that…”

“Johnny,” you laughed nervously. “No, I…I didn’t come here for that.”

“Oh. Really?” He frowned into his drink and then looked up at you again, incredulous. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I came because I missed you. Not your body, just you.” 

“Oh,” he said again. He only seemed more confused. “Huh. That’s…that’s a new one.”

“Is that so hard to believe?” You cocked your head.

“It’s just that, uh, y’know. People don’t usually come over just to hang out or talk or whatever. They don’t usually…stay afterwards.”

“Would you like that?” you asked, guiding his cheek so he was looking at you.

“Yeah,” he breathed with a nod. His eyes, usually hidden by whatever shades he had chosen for that day, suddenly looked so full of longing. For the first time, you understood just how lonely this man was. 

“Okay,” was all you said. You pulled him into a hug. His robe was soft, and so was his skin. At first, Johnny remained frozen. He didn’t seem to know how to react to such a genuine gesture. But he hugged you back, letting out a sigh that rivaled one of Atlas.

“I really, really needed this,” he muttered, chuckling tiredly.

“I can tell.”

“Eugh. Guess I don’t deserve all those Oscar’s, then.”

You didn’t know what in the world he was talking about, but before you could ask, he was already talking again. 

“Y’know, I…I thought you hated me.” 

“No,” you shook your head. “Not at all.”

“At all?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Well…” You huffed, smiling in spite of yourself. “You can be irritating. And loud. And arrogant.”

“But…?” He pursed his lips, waiting for you to go on.

“I don’t know,” was all you could think to say. 

“Not exactly the confidence-booster I was looking for.”

“You have enough confidence,” you teased. 

“It is one of my strong suits.” He grinned and downed a little more of his drink. “I guess it should be telling enough that you trekked all the way out here just to see me. You must like something about me.”

“I like plenty about you. It’s just hard to name.” You tilted your head as you watched him. He looked so pretty in the dim lighting of his lavish, yet warm home. Then again, he usually did. 

“We’ve got plenty of time to rectify that,” he smirked, his voice dropping down to a sultry hum. “Unless you were planning on making this trip a short one. But…”

You followed his gaze to your bag, still slung over your shoulder.

“I sort of assumed you’d let me stay.” You paused and corrected yourself. “That you’d want me to stay.”

“Forever?” He seemed a little too excited about the prospect, if a little caught off-guard.

“No,” you laughed at his likeness to a puppy. “Just for a little. I still have responsibilities, you know.”

“Right, right. The whole heir to the throne thing.” Johnny seemed utterly bored by the position. “That’s a shame. I know some of the guest rooms could use some love.”

“I just wanted to visit. See where this goes,” you said carefully, unsure exactly what ‘this’ even meant. Johnny, however, didn’t seem to care. He hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you a little closer. The look in his eyes that usually came off as cockiness now seemed to give way to a genuine enthrallment with you. It gave you flutters in your stomach. You didn’t hate the feeling.

“I’m down for that,” he murmured. A large hand caressed your cheek. “Y’know, now that I’m thinkin’ about it, my master bedroom is the loneliest one of all. And its owner wouldn’t mind a companion.”

“Someone to bed-warm?” you chuckled. Johnny’s eyebrows shot straight up.

“I thought you didn’t want to–I mean, listen I would love that, but I was just talking about, y’know, uh…sharing a bed tonight.” 

You frowned, searching his face for any sign of what the confusion was. “I was, too. You know what bed-warming is, right?”

“I know what a bed-warmer is!” Suddenly, realization came across his eyes in a wave. “Oh. Oh. Is this–this is some weird Edenian culture shock thing for me, isn’t it?”

“Maybe?” You shrugged as the thought crossed your mind. “For us, bed-warming is like…it’s hugging. Spending the night curled up to one another. Especially on cold nights. Y’know, because another body makes the bed warm.”

Johnny looked like he’d been slapped. “Yes! Yeah. Okay. That…that makes sense. Uh, that would be really nice. I’d like that.”

“What does bed-warming mean in Earthrealm?” you questioned as he turned to the bar again to clean up his glass. 

“Uh…” Johnny’s cheeks went pink. For once, he didn’t seem to want to delve into what you assumed had to be some sort of innuendo. “Y’know what? Forget it. You look tired. You came a long way, I bet. Let’s just go up to bed. I’ll show you my room! It’s really cool in there, I’ve got this statue that…”

As he started up the stairs, rambling half-nervously and half-excitedly, you couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto your face. For the first time that night, you felt completely secure in your decision to escape from home for a bit.

[demiesop]

Hello! I loved your Sorn even before I started drawing again. You are actually one of the people who inspired me to start again!

Lux never lived among Drow - And never in the Underdark until post-game…. But I think she would still hug Sorn for what he had to go through Q_Q Just because she's a drow woman and wants to say sorry.

Hello!!! I apologize for the late response, and thank you so much for this message!!!!

This is so sweet!!!! AAAhh Thank you so much!!!! I'm very honored!!!!!!!!😭🙏🙇 I will forever treasure this!!!! And I'm happy to hear you're starting again!!!! I hope you keep finding inspiration and have fun🫂

Lux darling ;; that's very kind of her!!! I think Sorn would be a little confused about why Lux would want to say sorry to him and would hesitate to hug back at first... (I hope you don't mind I sketched a reply?? and I hope I didn't butcher her...? @@;;)

[good--merits-accumulated]

do you take requests🧍‍♀️

LMAO I don't know if I would write full versions of these, but I can do some short snippets of each!

I. writer! Todd and vampire! Neil neighbours

Nicolas bared his teeth – and they were not just flashing white as Andrea had seen, but long and pointed, and curved like the canines of wolves. And they were no longer white, but slick and dark with blood. Of course. What a fool he had been. Nicolas moved closer and put one hand on Andrea’s throat, one cold relentless hand, so that they could both feel his pulse jumping between them. Behind him, pinned to the metal wall, Clara’s stake lay clenched in his hand. 

“No, no, no,” said Neil cheerily across the space between their balconies, “you’ve forgotten that Andrea wears that necklace.”

If it had been six months ago, Todd would have – and had – turned red, snatched his laptop off the flimsy table, and scuttled away into the sanctity of his own apartment, imposing a state of self-exile from the balcony for several more weeks. Fortunately it was not. He twisted around in the chair, shot a half-despairing glance at Neil’s grinning face, and asked, “Have you never heard of privacy once in your entire life?”

“I have many times heard of l’intimité,” said Neil, grinning wider, “and of einkalíf, and even yǐnsī. Privacy, however. That’s a new one. Pri-var-see. Is that how you say it?” 

He was incorrigible. Todd had discovered quite early on in their friendship that Neil had had some huge measure of life experiences which allowed him to come up with a rebuttal to every situation, and even earlier on that allowing him to run his mouth in French was a dangerous thing to do to himself. He was best humoured. “You’re in a boasting mood,” he said, pulling the laptop towards him. “I’ll bite. What’s wrong with his necklace?” 

“You’re the one writing with your screen brightness all the way up on an open balcony,” said Neil mildly, but acquiesced when Todd shot him a threatening look. “Sorry. Lips sewn. Anyway – whatever gory hand-to-hand combat scene you’re working on there can’t go if he’s got the necklace on.”

“Well, why not?”

“It’s a fish,” said Neil, with some measure of surprise. 

Todd fixed him with a look. “Neil, Andrea is a marine biologist.”

“A marine biologist wearing an ancient symbol of Christ around his neck,” said Neil. “Nicolas – he’s the vampire, yes? – he wouldn’t be very partial to that, I imagine.”

“A fish?” said Todd, surprised. “Well, it's not exactly a cross.”

“Hurts just as bad,” said Neil, making a face. “I mean, I would reckon. You know the ichthys actually predates the cross by two centuries? Bit more power to it, wouldn’t there be?”

He squinted and turned around fully. In the faint light spilling from his flat – the light from his flat was always faint – Neil looked loose-limbed and relaxed, draped over his balcony with his customary easy smile on his face, and his perpetual air of someone who knew more than he was letting on. Infuriatingly, the air was alluring at the best of times. But there was no hint of a lie or a joke on his face. “How on earth do you know that?”

“I’ve got time,” said Neil, “I read.” Then, with a shrug affecting casualness, “Could come over to yours and explain it more to you, if you want.”

“Well,” said Todd, and then, “well.” It had been six months they had known each other. He supposed that was enough time. But it had not happened before. For a moment a terrible feeling of anxiety overwhelmed him – something prickled over the back of his head like a hood, and a cloud crossed the moon, so that for half a second all was plunged into darkness. He shuddered. But then the clouds cleared and a ray of light struck Neil’s face, and illuminated it for him; he looked a little bit sheepish and a little bit pale, with nervousness perhaps. His hands twisted, one after the other, on the railing of the balcony. He was looking determinedly down. “I suppose it’d be helpful,” he said, and Neil looked up with a smile, suddenly blinding. 

“Really?” he said. 

“Well, don’t make me recant the offer.”

“Of course. Invite me in?”

He jerked a thumb in the direction of the door, standing up. “No,” said Neil, in a voice that was soft but carried nevertheless, and filled with laughter. “I’d like to hear you say it.” He was full of odd little idiosyncrasies like that, and despite himself, they were all endearing.

“You – are – ridiculous,” he said, punctuating each word with a movement; standing up, shutting the laptop, tucking the chair in behind him. “Are you recording that, or something? Come on over to the door. Of course you can come in.” He left Neil’s smile and the laptop behind him and slipped back into his flat, to stack the cushions back onto the sofa and check his hair in the mirror. 

It did not occur to him until much later the point that should have been obvious from the start – that their balconies were much too far apart to see well, and that his screen brightness, despite Neil’s insistence, had not been turned up all that much at all. But by that point, he could no longer quite bring himself to care.

II. vampires! Todd and Neil forced to plan museum heists

Languages tended to blend into one another these days; they evolved so much over these many hundreds of years that dialects, once sisters, became distant cousins, and then ceased being on speaking terms altogether. It was awfully difficult to keep up, at least without looking like a fool or a grandfather. Despite that, some languages had, throughout the years, impressed themselves onto certain parts of Todd’s moods. Corsican when he was feeling playful, Old Norse when he had just woken up or was particularly vulnerable – English for almost everything else, except in those rare cases where he felt something unimaginably distressing had happened, or that some unforeseen calamity was tearing at the bounds of his reality, demanding to be given voice and a few more vowels. In those cases it was invariably French.

“Merde,” he said, staring in dismay at the display case, “oh, merde.” 

“Fill de puta,” agreed Neil gloomily. 

Staring back at him was five sheets of stained paper, covered densely from margin to margin in a scribbling hand he knew very well, seeing as it was attached to his wrist. They had been arranged with the utmost care on a transparent support, and although he had not read the contents of the label next to it, he could, very clearly, see its proud, bolded title: The Met Museum presents – “His sweet mouth”: Love Letters Through Time.

“Fill de puta,” Neil repeated. This time with a touch more horror. 

“That must have been one of your letters,” said Todd faintly. 

“The first time I used the phrase,” he rejoined, “le Roi Soleil was already dead.” He gestured at the line before them that read 15th century, exact date unknown. “That was you. Remember?” 

He remembered, unfortunately, in excruciating detail. That had been a particularly thrilling night – a young man, one of Borso’s hanger-ons – a moonlit chase through the Castello Estense – him and Neil had been younger then, and had spilled more blood than was strictly necessary in the process. But it had been wonderfully romantic, and shortly afterwards, when Neil had gone off to Venice to do something with alum and Todd had remained in Ferrara, he had sat at his desk and remembered the moment; their hands and mouths meeting in that dim corridor of the Castello, the soft chimes of their laughter, the taste of the courtier’s sweet blood lingering still on his tongue. Enamoured, and in a mood much more befitting to a youth, he had written the letter and sent it off with a kiss. 

It had been well received at the time; Neil had come back from Ferrara early and they had gone off for a third honeymoon in Milan, and stayed until the whole business with Galeazzo Maria had forced a quick escape. When asked where the letter had gone Neil had only assured him that he had kept it, with the kind of dashing prince’s bow he had favoured at the time. Looking at him now, both of them were remembering it. 

He looked a little closer, just making out a particular line of Italian which had not been fit for public company in 1469 and was certainly not more so now, under hundreds of thousands of visitors’ eyes. “You said – ”

“I may,” said Neil, a little shamefacedly, “have lost it.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and added ruefully, “1844.”

He put a hand over his eyes. “The Oregon Trail?”

“It was quite windy.”

He pointed accusingly at the letter, and Neil winced. “Not windy enough to destroy the damn thing.”

“Well, it could be worse.”

“Worse!” One or two people looked over; he pulled Neil with him into the corner of the room, away from the damning glass display cases. “Neil, not only has our property been stolen – ”

“Lost.”

“Yes, because you lost it. Not only that, but now thousands of people are looking at it under this – damn – ” Lost for words, he pointed at the sign above them as they had walked into this particular exhibition room, reading, quite damningly, Eroticism and Sensuality, 1300-1550. He took one deep breath and compressed all the forcefulness and anger into a single, low, “Merde!”

“It was quite a good letter,” Neil offered. “I was flattered. Particularly the passage about my – ”

“There’s nothing for it,” Todd decided, firmly cutting him off. “Does Charlie still have all of his equipment from the ‘60s?”

“Good God,” said Neil smilingly. The good thing about having known each other for over a thousand years was that, at this point, they could have been the same person; he had not surprised Neil in quite some time with his actions. “You don’t mean to break into the Met?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

Neil blinked at him slowly, and pulled him a little closer, so that they were pressed close enough together to be mistaken for young lovers. A middle-aged woman pushing a stroller shot them a smile as she walked by, and Todd smiled back, close-lipped. “I certainly haven’t been arrested in quite some time,” Neil mused.

“And you can’t be hung for it any more,” Todd pointed out, putting his head on his shoulder. “The stakes are exceedingly low. Neil, I really do want that letter back.”

When he looked up at him again he was smiling; the wide flashing smile which exposed all his teeth and the fangs jutting sharp onto his bottom lip. The light in his eyes had long since died but in the reflected glow of the spotlights they looked almost alive again, and dancing with mischief. “Well, if you wish it,” he said. “Then I can’t say no.” 

Notes:

I: languages Neil uses in succession: French, then Icelandic, then Chinese. Take all the stuff about the icthys with large grains of salt - I did like 3 seconds of research for this and it was all on Wikipedia! Also I do think Andrea wears specifically the icthys, and not just any old fish.

II: Todd is of course using French, but Neil uses Catalan. Maybe I've been reading too much Aubrey-Maturin. The Borso mentioned is Borso d'Este - highly recommend reading more about him if you like Quattrocento things. Similarly Galeazzo Maria is of course the real Sforza who was assassinated in 1476!

[frosty-tian]

ok, now that bean quickshadow is done. where is squish bean blurrsy, salvage and hightide. please. I need em.

Not pictured:

Cody and Charlie in the Peter Griffin Death pose, the others are screaming and the kitchen’s on fire.

Blurr is an almost uncontrollable bean of wild energy (as if on a constant sugar rush). Salvage and Hightide are way calmer in return, Salvage collects little nick-knacks he finds and tries to make something crude out of them, while Hightide is usually really quiet until he’s placed in the bath tub (or any larger body of water).

[dailysmilingkokichiouma]

:D

[tresjoline]

Don't know if you've ever come across my story on tumblr but I'm someone who has seen Magda and Pernille twice in my life and fainted both times! I really admire the fact that you can take such beautiful pictures of them and not get dizzy

❤️❤️❤️

[thenwhatthefukcisthis]

So Dee, do you have any ideas about the reason behind Arthur and Eames totems?

why now.. I have many ideas :D

is it because Nolan (not so) secretly shipped these two mfers and decided to give them matching totems?

is it because, as jgl once said, eames was a lil shit who copied arthur (indirectly implying imitation is the best form of flattery with a serious case of “I wanna be like him/I want him”, cause we all know jgl knows that we know that he knows) ?

is it because arthur is still unable to forget how many many moons ago, he was wasting his army cut-off away, before he was peeled off the streets by the cobbs and eames wants to keep the memories of tagging along with his mother to work and collecting fallen poker chips?

or is it because they were gifts to each other, a chip to specify and a dice to turn up only the real face out of many, unknowingly making each other their respective tethers to reality?

or is it because, they had different totems (a wrist watch for arthur and a fidget spanner for eames), but after the job which made them realise how stupid they were been, they got these matching totems to remind each other how they can’t gamble their life anymore, as it now belongs to someone else?

or is it because the wedding rings were too damn expensive?