#//and it's so hard to incorporate them into the blog

[koffing-time]

Olivia!!!!!!!!!!!! Quick question!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why is your escavalier named The Kalosian?????

Simply put, she does not listen to anything else.

I traded her for a shelmet with someone from Kalos when i was younger. She did not have a name for quite some time, so i just referred to her as my "kalosian Escavalier" or "the Escavalier i got from Kalos". When i wanted to give her an actual name, she did not like it. She did not listen and sometimes would even throw a fit (which is not very safe, mind you, Escavalier are very strong and their lances are pointy and heavy), so i eventually reverted back to "The Kalosian". I tried naming her after a few kalosian things since she likes the culture a lot, like Macaron, Debussy and some other things, but she does not like any other name.

By the way kids: do not do what i did. Do not trade Pokémon you just caught half the world away, especially when it is a trade evolution. The Kalosian needed a lot of time to adjust. Understandably so. She was thrust into a trainers care, was brought to a new place that is incredibly different and evolved at the same time. It is not a mistake you have to make in the first place. - Olivia

[coolsvilleprincess]

Be goth, solve crime.

Birthing this Scooby Doo specific blog with fanart for Be Cool because I needed to draw their goth fits, they were simply too much of a vibe to not tbh

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 8 - Knight of Pentacles

summary : reader is pushing herself a bit too hard while studying for the exams, so sky calls in for reinforcement (jayce and viktor)

content warnings : some angst, more banter, viktor ain't having none of reader's bullshit

word count : 5,4k

author's note : okay so this has some kind of underlying brat!reader x dom!viktor dynamics ngl but no smut obviously! just lots of innuendos hihi

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world

masterlist : here

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr

You buried your nose and mouth in your elbow, a coughing fit taking hold of you until your lungs vibrated and echoed in your chest. You huffed, bringing your forehead to your hand as you swallowed. Your throat ached, but despite the pain, you kept going.

"If we follow Nesvor's principle on the calculation of energical stabilisation between a trajectory force and the Von Gasan Indicator of a speeding particle, we can deduce that x..."

You continued your recitation, your voice hoarse and your mind acting mechanically.

A week had passed since Professor Heimerdinger's announcement, and you had been studying non-stop.

You'd spent your first weekend working between customers at the café, your own cups piling up in the corner of the storeroom while your breaks were spent re-reading your notes and starting your revision sheets between your sandwich and your shots of espresso.

You'd underline, highlight, circle, synthesise, frantically searching your notes for formulas and key words to incorporate into your sheets until your fingertips were covered in neon yellow and black ink when you gave customers their orders.

When classes arrived on Mondays, Sky woke up at her usual time while you were already awake above your desk, the light dimmed as you transcribed your Practice of Elemental Alloys lessons.

"You're awake already?" she grumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Made some coffee," you replied, simply, as her eyes returned to the coffee pot, half empty already.

"Oh, nice." She articulated before getting up, bringing her body without connecting her tired neurons by pouring herself a cup.

It wasn't until she reached the shuttle stop that she considered the fact that you'd never gone to bed the night before. She watched you, concerned, as your eyes were riveted on your sheets, rereading them, your lips forming the words written on them without any sound coming out.

The first lesson came, and you were attentive, noting down almost every word the teacher said with a speed that Sky didn't even think possible, using your own unintelligible shorthand. You took part in every question, as if you'd already done the same lesson three times.

When the break came, you didn't even get a word in edgeways as you got out your flask to pour yourself another coffee, eating your lunch without much interest, your eyes never leaving the multitudes of lines in your lessons.

When evening came, you almost rushed to your desk, pulling out all your notebooks and sheets of paper to grab another revision sheet and get straight down to work.

When she called you for dinner, you'd simply tell her you weren't finished, that you'd eat later, and she'd left you a plate in the fridge.

While Sky tucked herself under her blanket, ready to sleep, you were still at your desk, hunched over your notes.

And when morning came and she woke up, there you were, sitting at your desk, your back bent like a wilting flower. When she opened the fridge door to get herself a juice, she found the plate. Untouched – it hadn't moved a millimetre.

It was at this point that she really started to worry.

"You didn't eat?" she asked.

"Didn't what?" you repeated, turning your head only when the silence had stretched out for a few seconds and your eyes went from Sky to the open fridge door. You raised your eyebrows. "Ah, no," you replied with a small smile as you turned back to your notes. "Forgot."

"Did you.. go to sleep?" she questioned.

"Yeah, around one in the morning. Woke up at five." you explained, twirling your pen in your hand as you tried to absorb information from another class.

"That's four hours of sleep." Sky chuckled, slightly nervous at the news. "How much did you sleep the previous night?"

You smiled, tired. "Don't worry, Sky. I'm fine." You pointed with your chin to the kitchen worktop. "Made some coffee."

She sighed, taking one of the tupperware containers from the cupboards to transfer the contents of your plate and save it for lunch. She did her best, however, to ignore your little coughs and sniffs.

Noon came, and you hardly ate anything. You had only taken a few mouthfuls, absent-mindedly immersed in notes on another subject.

Had you eaten breakfast? How much coffee had you had? Had you really slept a bit last night, or had you lied so as not to worry Sky?

Another evening followed the same pattern, and another day dawned without you moving from your desk. Dark circles were beginning to form under your eyes, your lips seemed less coloured and more chapped, your complexion lightened.

You were shaking slightly, your body growing more and more tired. You were already coughing more frankly, covering yourself with an indoor scarf as Sky's eyes drifted more and more towards your bin, which was filling up with tissues.

You looked like a zombie, barely lucid, mechanical in your movements as you pressed your fingers to your forehead. 

You had started to fall seriously ill. The lack of sleep combined with your diet of mostly coffee and energy bars was beginning to be too much for your body to cope with. You wouldn't even have been surprised if you'd managed to lose a kilo since you started studying.

As Friday drew to a close and you were mindlessly dropping things off at your desk, Sky pulled out the shopping bag for a refill.

"Need anything?"

You didn't turn, gathering up your revision kit, clearing your nearly-breaking throat to answer her. "We're running low on coffee, I think."

She sighed. You were completely locked in this state. No matter how many dishes she prepared to give you extra time to study, it seemed she couldn't reach you, couldn't make you understand that at this rate you were going to get worse.

"I'm going to the library," you said, leaving almost as soon as you'd got in.

"Okay. Well... good luck," she answered, before you stepped through the door. 

You only hummed an absent "mhm" as you left. Sky picked up a shopping bag, thinking for a moment before stepping out of the door a little later in turn. She wasn't going to make a simple trip to the shop, not when you had to be reasoned with and she had no influence on what you had to hear.

So she went down the stairs, and instead of going through the doors to get out of the dormitories, she continued on to one of the lower flats.

She knocked on the door, waiting a moment and thinking about what to say, hoping they'd be here. 

It opened to Jayce.

"Sky?" He said, obviously surprised to see her here like this.

She took a deep breath. "Is Viktor here as well?"

Jayce, still confused, opened his door fully to reveal Viktor sitting on his bed reading his notes. She huffed – Viktor at least had the decency to revise without exceeding the limits of what a body could tolerate.

Her eyes returned to Jayce as Viktor broke his eyes away from his notes to rest on her.

"Can I talk to you guys for a minute?"

They exchanged worried glances, Jayce opening the door a little wider to let her in.

"What's the matter?" Asked Viktor, turning to sit on the edge of his bed.

"It's..." she stared at the floor for a moment, searching for words before uttering your name. Viktor's eyebrows furrowed, his interest clearly piqued. "She's sick."

"Sick?" Jayce repeated, having never before associated your name and that word together in all the time he'd known you.

"Since Heimerdinger announced the finals, she's been working like her life depends on it. She barely speaks, she doesn't eat, and I've started doubting if she even sleeps." She crossed her arms over her chest, her fingers firmly gripping the flesh of her elbow. "She's been coughing, I haven't been able to have her take her temperature... She's getting worse by the day. At this rhythm I fear she could get worse."

Viktor stood up, pressing on his cane to adjust himself and move towards Sky. "Have you voiced your concerns to her ?"

"I did," she confirmed, nodding, "but she won't listen to me. That's why I came to see you."

"Us?" Jayce repeated, surprised.

"Yes. You've known her for longer than I do," she said, turning to Jayce, "I'm sure she'll listen to you."

"I don't know if I can make her listen to reason," he sighed. 

Her eyes darted from Jayce to Viktor. "I'm sure she'll listen to you both."

"Both of us?" Viktor asked, arching his eyebrows.

She pressed her lips into a thin line. "You may not realise it, Viktor, but she has a lot of admiration for you."

He gave a laugh that was almost accompanied by his eyes rolling heavenward. "Miss Young, I don't think admiration is really the word for the situation."

"She won't admit it to herself." Sky sighed. "At least not right now. But she admires you, Viktor. She respects you. If there's one person who can change her mind or even make her realise how impossible her condition is, it's you."

Viktor's lips parted for a moment, surprised by the news, before they closed again and the muscle in his jaw tightened. "Should we go and see her now?"

"She's gone to the library. I'm not even sure she can find the strength to walk anymore."

Jayce and Viktor exchanged a knowing glance, and nodded.

Your eyes were starting to blur as you tried to read the jumble of letters forming supposed sentences over and over again.

"If we follow Nesvor's principle on the calculation of energical stabilisation... If we follow... If we..."

You felt your eyelids twitch, closing them for a moment to try and calm the incessant buzzing. Your eyes stung, your nose ran, your throat hurt with every swallow. You shook your head, trying to regain your composure and read the formulas you should know so well.

You heard your name called and turned to Jayce. He looked worried, examining you for a moment. Beside him was Viktor, his eyebrows noticeably knit. You sighed, your eyes returning with great difficulty to your endless lines of text.

"What do you want?" The question was cold between your lips, your throat itching as the sudden effort to speak caused you to cough more.

"Can we talk?" Jayce asked, stepping forward slightly with Viktor to face you.

You cleared your throat, your face tightening at the discomfort of the gesture. "I can't even express to you how much I would rather do literally anything else."

Jayce breathed in, sensing that the conversation wasn't going to be easy.

"You're sick, you have to get some rest-"

"I'll rest when the exams are done." Your glassy eyes turned to meet Jayce's.

Viktor huffed. "This is ridiculous." 

You pouted, feeling too tired for this stupid game. "You're ridiculous."

Viktor seemed surprised, not by your remark, but by the weakness in it. You were always used to coming up with an elaborate response to his remarks, and now you were simply saying this? 

You had disappointed him, you suspected, and your heart twisted slightly at the idea.

I can't be disappointed, you thought. Because if I disappoint them, I'm nothing.

"The fridge and the streetlight will both find something more studious to do than waste my time," you managed to mumble uneasily, your head hurting horribly as you shivered.

"How do you find the strength to have things to say when you're in such a pitiful state, Miss?" Viktor asked ironically.

"Let go of me," you breathed, sniffing and biting your cheek. Your jaw was so heavy it felt like lead weights had been hung on every tooth.

Viktor leaned in slightly towards you, Jayce standing back.

"How am I supposed to fight fair with you if you're not healthy?" His voice was softer, more tender. Concerned.

"And how am I supposed to stand up to you if I don't study?" Your cheeks were hot, fatigue tugging at every limb.

"It's not studying," he said as you met his gaze, "it's a relentlessness that's slowly killing you."

Why was he making all this effort for you? Why had he taken his precious time to come and talk to you? Was he trying to dissuade you from revising? Was this another strategy so that he could outdo you?

Feverish thoughts flooded your cotton-filled head.

"Do you doubt me that much?" You asked, bringing your tired eyes to his. "Am I a burden to you?"

His eyes widened, lips parted as silence returned to the room.

He thought so, didn't he? He didn't dare say it out loud, but surely he was thinking it. You followed him like a bad shadow all the time, you must have been unbearable. 

You must have been a disappointment.

"That's what you think, isn't it?"

His jaw clenched, and your eyes were ready to prepare their tears, your nose stinging like you'd eaten too much mustard.

"You never had the time to really stop and care for yourself, have you?"

His voice was amber, fluid and vaporous as he delivered such bitter words to you.

"Why would you even care?" you chuckled, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as his vision blurred not with tears but with fatigue.

"I like you way more than my urge to hate you."

The sentence pierced your heart, your eyes widening for a moment to catch the truth that was nestled in his. He wasn't lying to you, was he? He wasn't just saying that to please you and prevent you from getting any more upset? After all, since when did Viktor say anything to please you? It didn't make sense.

You shook your head and stood up from your table, staggering as you tried to gather your things. "I'm going to study somewhere where neither of you will annoy me."

"Stop this." Jayce almost grumbled. "You shouldn't be doing anything in this sta..."

But Jayce's voice was beginning to fade dangerously as black flies began to fill your vision. Your body felt so heavy, getting up had been a mistake. Your head was spinning violently, the world seemed unstable and rocking to and fro.

You felt yourself falling backwards, and a hard, warm surface caught you as two hands grabbed your arms.

You heard your name being called – Jayce's voice no doubt. Everything was so blurred that it was impossible to tell where your body ended and the world began. You reopened your eyes weakly to see Viktor approach you with a worried look.

You were too weak to move, barely able to keep your eyes open.

He moved his hand closer to you, placing it on your forehead. His fingers were cold, long and soft against your skin. You closed your eyes at the sensation, trying hard not to tremble.

"Miss," Viktor said, his voice sounding concerned, "you're... burning."

You shivered, a small film of sweat covering your forehead as you felt your hair stick to your skin. You were so cold, trying to come back to reality, to steady yourself.

"But Nesvor's prince, Nesvor's prince..." You ranted deliriously.

"Let's take her back." Jayce said, you deduced his voice through the blur.

You simply felt hands on the back of your knees and your back before everything went black.

You kept waking up and going back to sleep, sometimes seeing light, sometimes hearing snatches of conversation, but you couldn't work out whether they belonged to dreams or reality.

"... You've got to get some sleep." Said a voice.

"Sleep can wait." Said another.

"Just... don't pull all nighters like her okay? I know her state is... but don't forget to... care... too..."

In this constant state between sleep and fever dream, you were cold. Sometimes you felt things. The cool sensation of a glass against your lips and the horrible taste of a mixture you couldn't quite work out, spreading down your throat and into your mouth.

The conversations seemed impossible to link together, to put in chronological order.

"... Think she'll get through?’

"... will take no time... medicine..."

You felt your chest rise every time you coughed, wincing at the sensation. You could barely feel the blanket covering you, as if you'd been covered with nothing more than a drape and left with nothing else.

Sometimes you managed to mumble, to talk to yourself in delirious dreams.

"I have to get back..." you breathed. "Studying, I have to."

You dreamt that your body was smaller, your limbs weak, your hair sticking to your forehead as you breathed hard. Everything around you was dark, a dull thud in the background of a crowd. 

You felt a cold cloth on your forehead and chattered your teeth.

"Shh..." you heard. "It'll pass."

You wanted to curl into yourself, to find a warmth in the half-light that would envelop you, comfort you, reassure you.

"It'll be alright." In their battle against sleep, your eyes roamed the damp walls of a cellar where the orange light of candles was reflected. "It'll be over soon."

You wanted to take every flame in the room and gather them close to your heart, coat yourself in their warmth, wrap yourself in them and never have to tremble so pathetically again.

The voice in the dream was right. You opened your eyes with difficulty, still blurred, squeezing them until your nose wrinkled before you opened them again.

You weren't in a cave, you didn't have any cold, wet wipes on your forehead, no candles reflecting faintly off any rock walls.

You were in your flat, lying in bed, no longer shivering from the cold. You turned your head towards the window, watching the sun filtering through the panes.

How long had you slept? A night? An eternity? You couldn't place yourself.

You breathed a sigh, turning your head towards the rest of the room in the half-light, when your eyes fell on your bed.

Sitting there on a chair, someone had fallen asleep on your sheets. A ribbon of sunlight passing through the thin curtains of the windows was tracing across his brown hair and his closed eyes.

Viktor.

He was gracefully asleep, his head turned towards you on his crossed arms. He seemed peaceful at first glance, except for the frown that creased his forehead.

Why was he there? What was he doing at your bedside? What was he dreaming about, to make his eyebrows furrow like that? 

You sat up in silence, moving slowly, not wanting to wake him. You watched him for a moment, silently contemplating the tiny specks of dust in the air passing through the gold ray.

Tentatively, you moved your hand closer, and it too entered the beam of sunlight, bathing it in a pleasant warmth. 

What is he dreaming about?

You hesitated for a moment before, almost by instinct, you gently pressed your index finger between his eyebrows. You didn't really know why you were doing this, how long had it pained you to see him in any discomfort? 

What is he dreaming about?

His frown disappeared under your fingers, like an eraser removing a cross-out. He looked so serene there, bathed in the sun glow. Did he sometimes think that the sky over Piltover was too big for the trickle of light you had in the bowels of Zaun?

What is he dreaming about?

His eyes opened slowly, the sun shining on the honey of his iris as they went from staring into space to landing on you.

He sighed, not moving from his current position, cheek resting on his arm as he looked at you quietly for a moment of silence.

"You're awake," he murmured, his voice numb with sleep.

"You were asleep," you answered in a voice just as small, regaining the use of a throat that hurt less but was still unpleasant. 

What were you dreaming about? you wondered, hoping that he would tell you on his own, that he would confide in you. But he said nothing, just stared at you. You couldn't make out his expression, couldn't tell what he was thinking, and you finally understood the frustration he felt when he tried to find you out.

You looked around the rest of the room as you gradually woke up. You were safely in your room, the chair from your desk missing as Viktor sat on it. Sky wasn't there.

"Why are you here?" you asked.

He exhaled, raising his crossed arms as one of them came towards you. You moved your head back but your pillow prevented you from moving any further. Two of his fingers touched your forehead. They were warm, the residual heat of sleep still enveloping them. He sighed, bringing his hand up to rest his chin on his palm, pressing his two fingers from your forehead against his cheekbone.

"You are ill." He explained. "I was just making sure this would stop."

You gazed at him, not saying a thing.

"When I was still in Zaun, I used to be just like you. I used to go days without sleeping, without eating, doing whatever I could to prepare for the exams. I know what it's like to push yourself too hard to achieve something higher than yourself. But destroying yourself before you reach your goal is no way to enjoy the taste of victory."

You pursed your lips, straightening slightly and bringing your legs towards you, cross-legged. 

"Why did you do this?" You asked, puzzled. "Why did you help me?"

He gave a little laugh that made him sway on the balance of his hand.

“Because someone once said that they had this old human thing called 'free will',” he smiled, ”and mine dictated to me that I had to get you to rest.”

You chuckled, lowering your eyes to your hands, bringing your fingers together and beginning to triturate them mechanically.

“But... why?” You kept coming back to this question, trying to find out what his real motives were.

“Can't have my best rival sick while she goes against me now, can I?”

My best rival; the appellation made you feel all funny in your tummy, or maybe that was just your symptoms.

You glanced at the window, the sun still splitting a blond line across your blanket.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

Viktor's shoulders relaxed. “You've been in and out of sleep since we brought you back from the library yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” You choked.

You'd found yourself at the library at around seven-thirty, and if the sun was already up...

“What time is it?” But a far more distressing realization dawned on you. “Oh fuck, I have to get to work.”

You straightened up, already pulling on your comforter to try and get up. But Viktor straightened, sitting down on your bed as he placed his hands on your comforter, at the same height as your hips.

You frowned, recoiling as your head hurt.

“No.” He said simply.

You sat up, confused.

“What do you mean 'no'?”

He didn't move, keeping his hands on your blanket. “Sky went to them and told them you would be taking the day off due to your health.”

“What?” You saidas if someone had just punched you in the stomach and the shock had expelled that simple word. “But-”

“No ‘but’,” he remarked firmly, carefully relocating your cover on top of you. “You are staying in bed today. End of discussion.”

You chuckled, apprehensive to respond to this, but Viktor gave you a simple look, the kind of glance that firmly underlines 'you don't want to fight me on this.'

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I still have to study.”

He shook his head slightly, chin high. “Don't care. You are resting today.”

“And what if I don't rest?” you asked, arching an incredulous eyebrow.

He let out an arrogant huff. “Want me to call Jayce? I might not have his strength, but I have enough determination for the both of us.”

You bit your cheek, pouting. “You can't pin me to bed all day long.”

He chuckled, almost darkly. “It's cute that you think I'm not capable of it.”

You inhaled heavily. “Can't run after me so you're just going to tie me to my bed, is that it?” You almost spat.

He seemed very amused by your remark, happy even. “You're giving me ideas.”

You'd recovered your rebuttal, and that seemed to reassure and satisfy him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked before reaching for his cane resting against the wall next to your head.

“Sore throat, sore head, sore all over.” You sighed, drawing your knees together in front of you until you rested your head against them.

You could hear him getting up, his cane tapping against the floor of your apartment like a new sound catalogued to his name. “Sky should be here soon, she's gone to the pharmacy.”

You turned your head to the side, watching him. He'd reached the sink, turned on the worktop light, taken an empty glass between his long slender fingers.

"Are you going to fill me full of pills?" You asked, tiredly.

He cut a packet of medicine in half, wedging it between his teeth and tearing the slit in the paper. He poured the contents into the glass before running it under water. He had rolled up his sleeves, the light over the worktop highlighting his silhouette. You let your eyes wander lasciviously over his forearms as he took a spoon to stir the whitish mixture.

"We've had a doctor in the meantime." He put the spoon down on the worktop, picked up his cane and came over to you. "He prescribed a treatment. I had a few sachets of the same medicine left in my things so we used them on you." He sat down on the bed, handing you the glass. "Sky's gone to get some more.’

"What about Jayce?" 

"Gone to see Selene," He replied, pushing the glass a little closer to you. "Drink this."

Your mouth fell open in shock.

"What?" 

You'd never told Jayce, or Sky. Only Viktor knew.

"You told them about Selene?!" You raised your voice, regretting it as you began to cough.

Viktor sighed, bringing the glass back in front of you. "Drink this, and then we'll talk." 

You were about to answer, but the words melted off your tongue like butter when Viktor spoke again. "Don't argue with me."

You looked at him for a moment, frustrated, before bringing both hands to the glass. You reached for it, your fingers brushing against his for a moment. 

You brought the mixture close to your nose, the smell making your whole face pucker. You exchanged a glance with Viktor, who nodded to encourage you not to worry too much about it.

"Till the very last drop," he said, spacing each word carefully.

You huffed, taking one last look at the contents before bringing it to your lips, frowning immediately as you took your first sip. You remembered the taste; you'd drunk it between fever dreams.

You swallowed the last mouthful with great difficulty, passing Viktor an empty glass as you pressed the back of your free hand to your mouth. He seemed amused, rising again to refill your glass with clean water that didn't taste atrocious.

"Why did you tell them about her?" You asked, still annoyed.

"Selene is your legal guardian, she deserves to know the state you're in." He refilled the glass, bringing it back to you. "And besides, she's the one person in your circle who knows the most about you."

"You didn't need to tell them about her…" you grumbled as you took the glass with much less suspicion than before. 

Whose job had it been to give you the treatment while you slept?

He sighed quietly. He didn't seem to have missed your stubbornness. Or maybe he was just tired. You turned to him. You'd woken up with him at your bedside. Had he been watching over you? You took a sip from the glass of water, an immensely diluted remnant of the remaining treatment swirling in it.

"The medicine," you begun hesitantly, "were you the one giving it to me while I was asleep?"

He breathed in gently, his eyes dropping to the glass you were holding for a moment, tilting his head to one side as his lips parted. But his sentence never came as the apartment door opened on Sky.

Viktor got up from the bed, moving away as Sky put the shopping bag on the table before coming towards you, all smiles.

"You're awake!" She exclaimed. "How are you feeling ?"

Your eyes drifted to Viktor, who had walked straight over to the packet Sky had left on the table and checked its contents.

"Better," you admitted, your eyes drifting back to the glass, your thumb caressing the outline.

"Um, Miss Young?" Viktor asked, the latter turning to him as you followed her gaze. "You know how to administer the treatment. Make sure to give her the next one in five hours from now." He moved towards the door. "If she resists..." He turned to you, giving you a knowing look before returning to Sky's. "Come to us. We'll take care of it."

He gave you one last look before walking out, leaving you and Sky alone with a few hundred questions.

"How did the night go?" You asked, unable to stay still, your desire to know stronger than your tiredness.

"The guys... Viktor was amazing," she admitted. "They brought you back here; Jayce was a bit panicked." You both smiled. “Viktor had the situation under control."

You remained silent, waiting for Sky to continue her recounting.

"He immediately asked about all your symptoms in detail, calmly telling Jayce to go and get some of his own medicine from their flat. If you'd seen the way Jayce rushed down the corridor..." She laughed, and you imagined the scene perfectly, smiling back. "Viktor never left your side."

You breathed in, thinking back over the snatches of conversation, putting together the fragmented pieces of a blurred memory. Sleep can wait. It was Viktor's accent.

"He gave you each dose of medicine, every five hours, sharp. Like clockwork. I don't even know if he slept." She stood up, heading for the bag. 

"Wow," you breathed, "Viktor did... all this? For me?"

You couldn't believe it. How could he have gone to so much trouble, spent so much time making sure you got better?

“See,” Sky smiled as she came over to you, bringing a pastry with her, "he isn't that bad.’’ She handed you the delicacy. "Here, a treat from Emeline. I swear I thought all her freckles were going to fall from her face when she heard you were sick."

You took the sweet in your hands, smiling at it: your favourite order from her. Sky stood up again, heading for the worktop.

"Hey, Sky?" She turned to you, and you saw a slight fatigue on her face. Poor thing must have spent half her night listening to you rave in your sleep and coughing your lungs out. "Thank you – for all of this."

She smiled, relieved. "You would have done the same for me."

And it was true. In the quartet you all formed, you would have done the same, even for Jayce, even for Viktor. She turned again, moving on as you took a mouthful of your pastry.

After the vile taste of the medicine, you had heaven on your tongue. You savoured it for a moment, your head turning towards your bedside table until you found your tarot deck.

You shuffled a few cards, cutting as usual, and turned the deck over to reveal the Knight of Pentacles. You picked up the little booklet, flipping through until you found the page.

You began to read the key words, and felt your cheeks flush as you glanced at Sky to make sure she was busy. When that proved to be the case, you went back over the lines: Physical and sensual. Introspective. Slow energy with incredible results.

Sensual?

The Knight of the Pentacles carries the slowest energy in the game. He stares at the pentacle in his hand as he considers his next move. Will he plant it like a seed in the freshly ploughed field beside him, or will he slip it into his pocket and ride off into the sunset? It is all about plotting and planning the future.

A knight... representing Viktor? 

You closed the little manual, your eyes staring into space.

What was he dreaming about?

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[gothbondage]

My bf has kinks and stuff that I'm not into but I'm still gonna research and figure out how to enact them in the hottest way possible. Just to give him a treat once in a while ♡

[cripplecharacters]

Facial Differences that You Should Consider Representing in Your Writing More

[large text: Facial Differences that You Should Consider Representing in Your Writing More]

As it has been said many times on this blog before, facial differences are a very wide spectrum - there’s thousands of conditions that cause it, and they’re often extremely different from each other! It’s an incredibly diverse category almost by definition. But…

In books, movies, and our inbox, it seems that a traumatic battle scar is the only facial difference that exists. I find this rather frustrating because I would like to see the real life diversity to be actually considered by writers when creating characters - and that’s exactly what this post is for. I hope that by making people just aware of the myriad of options they have, I can help a bit. 

This isn’t to say that you shouldn’t write characters with scars, it’s to say that there’s more for you to consider. Just like not every physically disabled person has hip dysplasia and not every neurodivergent person has epilepsy, not every person with a facial difference has scars! 

Of course, this list isn’t exhaustive - no such list exists, it would be like “list of every disability ever”, it simply can’t be done. This is just a dozen random facial differences that I would like to see incorporated into characters more often!

Facial paralysis Exactly what the name implies. There are many types of facial paralysis - complete, partial, bilateral, unilateral, chronic, acute, and it can affect the whole face, or only part of it.  Sometimes it can cause problems with speech or dry eyes (mostly the latter), but it’s frequently just primarily a visual difference. A person with facial paralysis might be completely unable to make facial expressions at all if it’s severe, or have a lop-sided smile and inability to raise an eyebrow or control an eyelid like me. Causes include cranial nerve damage (especially the 7th nerve, which is called facial palsy), Bell’s palsy, Möbius syndrome, or multiple sclerosis! It can be congenital, like in my case, or acquired, like in most cases - mostly due to stroke. Here I would write something about the current media representation being good, bad, or what tropes to look out for but I don’t know a single character with it. So :-)

Anotia/microtia Microtia is a congenital facial difference that affects the outer ear(s) - as the name implies, they’re smaller than average; anotia means a complete lack of them. This usually will also result in being d/Deaf or hard of hearing in that ear, as the ear canal can be smaller or closed (depending on the “grade”). People with microtia who decide on using hearing aids will usually wear a bone-anchored hearing aid, which looks very differently from the “regular” HA; it’s worn with a headband. Microtia can be the only facial difference that a person has, but it can also be a part of Goldenhar syndrome, Treacher Collins syndrome (mentioned below!), or hemifacial microsomia.

Congenital Trochlear Nerve palsy I have a subtype of this, and because it happens to have the most boring name in existence I have never seen anyone talk about it, certainly not see a character with it. So! CNIV palsy (again, an incredibly catchy name) is a disorder of one of the very-easy-to-damage nerves that allow eyes to move. It causes constant double vision, severe strabismus, and progressive facial asymmetry. A person with CNIV palsy will have a 24/7 head tilt to the side and will have their chin tucked in, which causes said asymmetry - facial features on the side of the tilt will sag down, the eye will “sunk” in, and because it’s congenital, the jaw can grow to be misaligned (like mine!). Over time, it causes neck pain and kyphosis, so add chronic pain to that. Trochlear nerve palsy can be congenital, acquired, traumatic, and even extremely rarely genetic (that’s me! allegedly <1 in a million). However, most acquired cases are only temporary, and “fix themselves” with the passage of time. Again, I would love to write something about CNIV palsy representation, but I’m fairy confident it doesn’t exist : )

Sturge-Weber syndrome The most visible part of SWS - that you might be familiar with - are port wine stains! In this syndrome, they tend to be large and generally cover the forehead-eye area. Around 15% of people with any kind of port wine stain on their face have Sturge-Weber syndrome, and even more when it comes to larger ones. Most people with SWS will have epilepsy since childhood, and many will develop glaucoma (which causes blindness) if the PWS is around that eye. Hemiparesis (one-sided weakness) can also sometimes happen on the opposite side of the PWS. Here is a short article about media representation from a person with SWS!

Cystic Hygroma Also known as lymphangioma, it is a bump that mostly happens on a person’s lower face and/or neck. It’s almost always congenital and a result of a blockage in the lymphatic system (thus lymphangioma). Sometimes, if it affects the mouth or jaw, it may cause a speech disability where the person’s speech might not be fully understandable, or cause an airway obstruction; this generally means that the person has to have a trach tube in their neck to breathe. Here is a short article about living and growing up with cystic hygroma by Atholl Mills!

Congenital melanocytic nevus A complicated name for a specific kind of birthmark! Melanocytic means related to melanin, so it’s a black or brown birthmark that can show up on any part of the body and be of almost any size. Sometimes it can be hairy as well. While CMN doesn’t usually cause any problems, people who have it have a higher risk of skin cancer, epilepsy, and brain tumors. Here is a short article on representation - among other things - by a person with CMN!

Ptosis Ptosis is actually really common - I can almost guarantee that you have seen someone with it - but for some reason it never shows up in media, unless it’s to show that a character is under the influence or vaguely creepy. Ptosis is simply a drooped eyelid. It’s caused by damage to the third cranial nerve, which can be congenital, acquired, traumatic, etc. It’s very common in myasthenia gravis and CHARGE syndrome. In most cases ptosis is a visual thing, but it can sometimes cause problems - for me, it partially obstructs my vision and for some people who acquired it later in life that can cause pain (due to having to constantly lift the eyebrow). Ptosis is often misunderstood, and people tend to make bizarre assumptions about those of us who have it - even Wikipedia cites “looking sinister” as a symptom (not that I particularly trust Wikipedia as a source, but it shows the general public’s view quite well). In real life, we are normal people and all these “drunk/high/rude/evil” associations aren’t true at all.

Treacher Collins syndrome You have probably seen a person with TCS at some point, as it’s not that rare. This is a genetic, congenital disability that affects the development of the face. The bones of the jaw and cheeks are underdeveloped, eyes have a downturned shape, and microtia/anotia is often present as well. A lot of people with Treacher Collins are d/Deaf or hard of hearing. Sometimes, the small jaw might cause problems with breathing, which is why a lot of people with TCS will have a permanent tracheostomy tube in their neck. Similar to ptosis, eyes in TCS are often seen as “looking sad”, but that’s an incorrect assumption - that’s just how they look like. The main and only big representation of TCS in media is that one awful movie from a few years ago, that was literally just inspiration porn featuring an able-bodied actor based on a shitty book, made by an author with some sort of abled-person guilt. Very cool, don’t do that.

Crouzon syndrome Crouzon syndrome is a type of craniosynostosis; a congenital condition where a person’s skull fuses too early. There are other disabilities that can look somewhat similar, like Pfeiffer or Apert syndrome, but they are different!  CS will affect the person's skull - it will be taller than usual, eyes - they will be large and bulging, midface - it's often smaller than average and can look sunk in comparison to the jaw and forehead, and more! Sometimes people with Crouzon syndrome are d/Deaf or hard of hearing (very common with craniofacial differences), or experience long term effects of hydrocephalus, which happens fairly often. Here is a short article by Mikaela Moody about movie representation - and her piece on how it to be trans while having a facial difference, which I relate to a lot and wanted to share:-)

Phthisis bulbi Phthisis bulbi is something that I have mentioned on this blog before, as it logistically should be represented way more often in fiction than it currently is. It's also known as the “end-stage eye” which is a pretty metal name. This is an ocular difference that can result after trauma to the eye. It can also result from a million other things, but trauma is apparently the most common thing to happen to an eye in fiction, so. With phthisis bulbi, the eye shrinks, sinks, and everything inside becomes stiff; this is permanent, and the eye isn't functional anymore - it's blind and unable to move. The only treatment is to have the eye removed, especially if it causes pain. If you're writing a character who got a Hot Sexy Scar over their eye and still has that eye, they probably should have this (and yes, the “shrunk and sunk” part is mandatory, you can't just make the eye lighter and call it a day).

Frontonasal dysplasia Frontonasal dysplasia is a congenital facial difference that affects the structure of the face. While it's a spectrum with a lot of variety, most people with FND will have hypertelorism (eyes spread widely apart), a flat and broad nose, and a cleft going through the middle of the nose. Other facial clefts (not necessarily just cleft lip) are also common. Sometimes, someone with it can also have cranium bifidum (meaning a brain/meninges that protrude through the skull, similar to how spina bifida works), or intellectual disability related to the potential absence of corpus callosum. Rarely, limb differences can also be a part of it; absent tibia, extra toes, or clubfoot. Again, I’m unaware of any representation of FND outside of “scary birth deformity” on medical shows :--)

Parry–Romberg syndrome PRS is also known as progressive hemifacial atrophy, which is a much more descriptive name. It’s an acquired facial difference that people just get for unknown reasons, mostly before the age of 20 and usually between 5 and 15. Generally, PRS is considered to be slowly-progressing, but this can vary pretty widely between different people. As the name implies, it causes atrophy in the face, which affects everything from skin to fat and muscles to sometimes even bones. Some people will also experience skin darkening, alopecia (hair loss), or trigeminal neuralgia (very severe nerve pain) on the atrophied side. The difference between the two sides can be very pronounced, with a visible line between the halves showing up on the forehead. Again, no existing rep that I know of :-)

And as always, I recommend this short PDF that in my opinion any writer who wants to include a character with an FD has to read. Additionally, you can also check our #face difference tag, this primer on facial difference, or this piece on making sure you’re not contributing to disfiguremisia.

Also apologies for the amount of “idk what to say about already existing rep because it literally doesn’t exist afaik” but I hope it illustrates the problem :-)

Happy Face Equality Week!

mod Sasza

[amorfista]

"Dads at the beach"

The Dad Batch (and Omega) deserve a day of blissful relaxation, I don't think there's anyone out there who wouldn't agree!

While Tech is taking the best nap of his life [Part 1], Omega and Wrecker joined efforts to make the coolest sand-Tipoca city [Part 2] there is out there!

But their mischief did not go unnoticed, and the Dads of the Bad Batch, who were trying to enjoy their drinks and straight up chillax, are having a bit of a hard time doing so with all of Omega's giggles and Wrecker's barely contained laughter!

-"The kriff are these devils up to now...?" - Echo says as he takes a sip of his piña colada.

-"I'll do you one better... How the kark is Tech sleeping through that..?" - Hunter mutters in disbelief.

...TO BE CONTINUED! [Part 4]

Alright... this one took a while. I'm very sorry for the huge delay on this drawing but... some parts of it made me lose my sanity :). I hope you can catch all the small details I laid here and there. Echo's shirt covers his Fives tattoo, which is a bit sad, but that's okay because there's another version ^^:

There, that's better🥴❤️‍🔥

This project has been quite difficult and I have a lot of things that I'm not too proud about. I suck at backgrounds and I definitely am NOT GOOD at making a line of palm trees :') The characters aren't that well incorporated in the drawing, I would have liked to make more fun little things here and there (which I'll save for future drawings) and the colors, well, let's just say I can smell them now. I don't know what's right and what's wrong anymore ;V; so sorry in advance &lt;/3. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND SUPPORT!!! Although this is a challenging project, I'm VERY happy to see myself improving little by little, and your encouragement helps me push through ANYTHING!! I'll do my best again in the next one!! 💕💕

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be included too!) @dukeoftheblackstar @justalittletomato @darthmaulshispanichousewife @botherbother-blog @aftergloom @badolmen @ihaventpickedausername @ohboi @stardustbee @nik-barinova @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @gen-has-green-vibes @ejfivercommander @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @eyecandyeoz @noesqape @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @staycalmandhugaclone @callmesunny04 @freesia-writes @ginnymilling @sunshinesdaydream @blueink-bluesoul @cloneloverrrrr @moon-wrecked @idontgetanysleep @tech-aficionado @followthepurrgil @renton6echo @queenjiru @shoe-bag

[buckys-little-belle]

Hiiiii I really love your whole Tumblr it's really comforting I really loved the one you wrote I think it was called just feelin little with bucky and steve and it was really comforting because I don't fully regress other thank cuddling up at night with my blanky and a theeter shaped like an oreo

If your comfortable writing something like that with Eddie Munson like maybe a little that doesn't even understand what that is and one day at he notice that the reader is having a hard time and kinda swoops in and helps. Thanks for listening even if you don't write have a good day (or night :)

Chomp Chomp

Eddie Munson x Little!Reader (They/Them/No pronouns used)

Warnings - Eddie helps the reader regress, use of teethers, use of a comfort blankie, talks about being stressed, talks about de-stressing, reader goes into a state of "disassociation" basically they are very stressed and just stop replying to Eddie's questions, very very vague mentions of that though, a bit of angst, but mainly self-indulgent fluff! (Also I made the teether one of the frozen ones but I'm now realizing that's probably not the kind you meant! So I apologize!)

Notes - I wrote this in a different perspective than I usually do. I just need a break from the more "formal" writing style I usually do and I hope that you like it!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW!

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

Eddie knew that you age regressed before you really understood it yourself. He'd taken note of how you sleep with whatever soft blanket you could find at night time, how you often found yourself chewing on ice before bed, and and you'd act like, what you called "snuggly", and what he called "small".

He didn't want to scare you with the big title of "age regression" all at once. So he slowly began incorporating more "classic" age regression tactics to your nightly routine without you realizing it at first.

Instead of a glass full of big ice cubes you'd bite in half, he gave you a plastic cup full of small bat shaped ice cubes. They were easier to chew on, and he liked knowing the cup wouldn't shatter if you dropped it.

Then he bought you a small soft grey blanket at the thrift store. He washed it and made sure it smelled like him before he gave it to you, giving you the impression that it was just laying around somewhere instead of bought for a specific reason.

It became your "Nightie blankie", you nicknamed it and Eddie was once again sure of your regression, or at least partial regression. You slept with it every night, snuggled to your chest, the soft material tickling your chin as you slept.

After a few months of just those two new things he added in a fun nightlight so he could finally turn the bathroom light off. You thought it was cute, it projected a small smattering of stars on the ceiling and it often lulled you to sleep.

Next though, the next step was a little harder to get you acclimated with. "A teething ring?" You asked, holding the small thing in your hand. "It's cold?"

"I put it in the freezer, there's gel inside that gets cold." Eddie reasoned. "This way you don't have to eat so much ice before bed, you can just chomp on this." He gave your forehead a kiss before making the bed. Hoping that if he acted chill about it you would be fine with the new addition.

"But it's for babies?" You grumbled.

Eddie stood up with a huff, his hands on his hips. "Do you like it?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

You took a quick chomp, liking the way the frozen thing felt like ice but wouldn't make you full of water or your hands wet. "I don't know."

"Just try it for tonight, if you hate it I'll give you your ice back." He said it so plainly, like he hadn't given you a kids toy to chomp on.

You ended up enjoying your teether, chomping on it was much easier than eating ice, and you liked the little charms that were attached. It was calming, and Eddie didn't think it was weird, and you trusted him on it.

A year later, with all of your new regression tools in place bedtime seemed easier. Eddie had brought up the idea of age regression a few times, but always in a passive way.

He'd put cartoons on and say things like "Doesn't this make you feel like a kid again?" and "I wish I had some toys to play with." when things got boring at the trailer.

You didn't really understand that he wasn't really feeling like a kid while watching the tv shows, or wishing for toys, he was seeing how you reacted, seeing if you were maybe an age regressor outside of just bedtime.

He didn't push it but he got you a few stuffies, and kept cartoons on often. He didn't want to force you to regress if you didn't need it, or seem to be interested, and you didn't really seem to regress all that young. You seemed to drift to an unknown age that liked teethers, blankies, and night lights, but also liked to humm Metallica songs before bed. You were different, and he enjoyed it.

One day though you seemed on edge. Stressed about something that he couldn't fix, something you couldn't seem to get over. You began worrying him when you sat on the floor and just sort of stared off into space. You weren't panicking anymore, you weren't coping.

So he thought that maybe some regression would help you work through the big emotions in a safer way. So he grabbed your blanket and placed it in your hands, you immediately began to fiddle with it, but still didn't respond when he tried to talk to you about why you were stressed.

So he then turned the lights off, grabbing the small nighlight and brining it to the living room. Now instead of staring off into space your eyes drifted along the ceiling as the stars moved around.

Last but not least he grabbed your teether, placing it in your hand. Like you did at bedtime you began to chomp on it, and Eddie smiled.

"What's going on, baby?" He asked, taking a seat next to you.

"Jus' chomp, chomping." You replied with a soft smile.

"Yeah, and why do you need to chomp chomp?" He said in an animated voice.

Slowly you began to tell him what was bothering you, and slowly he helped you solve the problem, letting you use your regression and comfort items to help keep you calm and collected instead of distant and despondent.

You didn't regress often outside of bedtime, and you didn't really seem to regress to a certain age, but Eddie understood what you needed, and he helped you in his own subtle ways.

[zepskies]

How do you think a romance between soldier boy and a woc would pan out?

Hey there! By "WOC" I'm thinking you mean "woman of color?"

Fun fact: I actually imagine most of my reader insert characters as women of color, since I'm a woman of color myself. 💁🏽‍♀️

I love this question, but I think the nitty gritty specifics would depend on her race/ethnicity. A “person of color” incorporates a broad swath of races and cultures, so it’s hard to generalize while being accurate and authentic to a POC’s experience. For example, I could write a headcanon fic like:

Headcanon: A romance between Soldier Boy (Ben) and a Hispanic/Latina woman of color would include...

Because that^ is my frame of reference, being that I'm Cuban, Puerto Rican, and Dominican. 🇨🇺🇵🇷🇩🇴 (Hence the Midnight Espresso-verse. And speaking of, Happy Hispanic Heritage Month!)

**Even “Hispanic/Latina” is generalizing, because there are many Hispanic/Latino ethnicities with unique aspects to their cultures that can make them very different from one another other, even if you keep the setting as America/New York within The Boys.

In general though, here are my thoughts:

Headcanon: Soldier Boy (Ben) romancing a woman of color:

She could be a good foil for him, not just helping him adapt to modern society, but broadening his horizons to her culture and her world, especially if she's a normal person (non-supe).

She would most certainly challenge him. If she's black or Latina, for example, I couldn't see either one putting up with Ben's misogynist bullshit. She doesn't have the time or the patience, no matter how damn attractive or charming he is.

If he's tenacious enough to pursue her (likely seeing her as a "challenge"), she would help open his eyes to what "a real man" actually is -- reliable, responsible, and a good man.

(Not just that BDE. 🙄)

She could help him see past his white privilege. Especially by showing him her culture, and how she navigates the world is much different to how he navigates the world, not just as a famous superhero, but as a white man who's gotten to be where he is because his daddy came from old money.

If she cooks (or if her mother, aunt, grandmother cooks, as in many black, Hispanic/Latino, Italian, Asian families), she could open up his horizons that way too with different kinds of cuisines that he probably hasn't encountered before. 👏🏽

This would also appeal to that more traditional aspect he'd probably enjoy, of having a woman cook for him lol. Though she would remind him that having someone cook for him is a privilege and a kindness and a way to show someone you love them, not a right that should be expected.

She could also help him see how food and family is pretty entwined in a lot of cultures for ethnic/racial minorities. It could give him a new outlook on what "family" actually means.

Gah! Now you're making me want to write an actual Soldier Boy story with a woman of color. 💕

(Disclaimer though: I'm very careful of not writing for voices that aren't "mine" when it comes to race/ethnicity/cultural minorities, unless I know enough about it through either personal experience or research.)

Soldier Boy Tag List

Because this actually became a genuine headcanon that I'm going to add to my SB masterlist.

@spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @adoringanakin @rizlowwritessortof @chernayawidow

@midnightmadwoman @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@waynes-multiverse @my-stories-vault @syrma-sensei @alwaystiredandconfused @globetrotter28

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@jackles010378 @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @just-levyy

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[three-realms-archive]

(This me rambling, feel free to ignore and lesson 16 spoilers! ^^; hi hello btw!)

I wanna see MC sometimes staying at Purgatory Hall and the Demon Lord's Castle more often as an escape to truly relax and maybe see the brothers try to overcome some of their struggles in their own, even if it's just a bit, if not for them, then for MC who has done so much, maybe even too much, for them, y'know?

Lesson 16 was quite the turning point, but not a lot of things changed. I wanna see before and afters with everyone. I wanna see angst where everyone is trying to be normal (maybe because MC is trying to be normal), but when the slightest thing goes wrong, they all flinch to shield MC or something. The smallest smell of vlood after chopping up food for dinner? Flashback to lesson 16. MC being too cold? Mammon flashes back. Belphie standing over MC (holding blankets or just so happen to be there for some reason)? Levi is holding his breath.

But at the same time, i want to see MC flinch from Lucifer. Before Belphie, Lucifer was going to hurt MC or worse, and he did it the most and has succeeded in hurting MC the most out of the brothers. I want to see MC hold their breath anytime he gets angry but is completely calm with Satan. I wanna see MC's shoulders tense while helping with paperwork alone with him but be completely fine with doing the same with Diavolo. I wanna see Mammon acting as like a bridge between the two.

Everyone is so creative on how they write lesson 16 but i don't see a lot of "after the lesson" ones. I always wondered, if their MC went through that (assuming if they made ir canon in their MC's story), what changed, if at all?

Phantom Pain

First oneshot of Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences: a oneshot series featuring slice-of-life snapshots of the aftermath of Lesson 16. Naturally, features spoilers for OG Obey Me! up until that point. Each oneshot will have an associated headcannons post, which will be linked when it goes up!

(thank you to @kittylilyheart for inspiring what will now be a oneshot series dedicated to everyday life in the aftermath of lesson 16, because there's just so many characters in this series with so many things you can write for each. they gave so many interesting examples in their submitted idea; so I'll be including some and incorporating my own. If you have an idea for something related to Obey Me! or Obey Me! Nightbringer that you'd like me to put to writing, please read the rules pinned to this blog before submitting to the blog's inbox!)

_

It’s like pins and needles, starting at your neck and running down your back. Mammon sees you arch your back oddly as you go to knock on the door to the Demon Lord’s castle; and immediately knows.

“Hey, hey.” He says as he bumps his shoulder into yours, fingers touching your sleeve. Even though he’s seen this a bunch of times, he never really knows what to do. “Ya, uh. Ya got the needles-thing again?”

“Yeah. Ugh, why now?” You groan through gritted teeth, waiting for the feeling to subside. Both you and Mammon were used to this, episodes happening every now and then. Temporary bouts of phantom pain down your back and sides, where arms had hugged you and…

Dwelling wouldn’t help. And besides; they barely inconvenienced you. You sat down and pressed your back against a nearby wall.

“Don’t do that. What are ya doin’?”

“It feels better when I put my back against something hard and flat.” You state matter-of-factly, never breaking eye contact as you slowly slide down. He looks more confused. You grin. "As long as Beel hasn't got his fifth dinner on it, the kitchen table is nice, too."

“Weird humans…” Mammon mutters disapprovingly, but he sits beside you to wait it out. His head flops to one side, cheek resting on your head, as he makes the ever-so-cliché show of pretending to stretch his arm above his head, over yours… and, eventually, around your shoulders. You snort as his fingers fidget, figuring he just doesn’t know where to place them. They first settle on your chest, lingering over where your heart beats. Then, they scurry up to your collarbone and settle on your pulse point. He presses around a little, as if searching. Then, with a satisfied hum, he leans back against the wall, too.

“I think it’s going away, now. Mams. Hey, Mams.” You shake his arm a few minutes later. He blushes at your willing contact (as if he hadn’t been holding you close this whole time) and the cutesy nickname, but shuffles back to give you space to stand. Though not before checking your back first, touching the back of his hand to the skin between your shoulder blades, which your outfit exposes. Because you’d been leaning on a metal wall, your skin is cold.

He freezes. Your skin, cold. Your lips, not breathing. The slight red from where his hand had pressed against you has a slightly red flush. Red - red, just like it had been when -

He makes a show of dusting off your shoulders, one hand curling its fingers just enough to press a little more around your neck pulse point.

He hums again, satisfied. Then, the sheer amount of touching you that he’s done today hits him - and he turns his head to the side with a not-so-subtle cough.

“Y-Yeah, okay. Good. Let’s knock, then.” Mammon straightens and flashes you one of his signature grins. You notice it wobbles a little, but you attribute that to the adorably-dramatic cough he was forcing out of his throat just moments earlier. “If we get back late, Lucifer’ll think we’re slackin.”

“We can’t stay longer? Lord Diavolo said in his letter that I can work at the castle for as long as I like.” You pout. Secretly, your heartbeat gets a little faster; you swore you read the letter correctly. You look at Mammon hopefully, avoiding looking at the path behind you; which was starting to look awfully short. “I thought we were getting back after Lucifer goes out tonight.”

Mammon raises an eyebrow. “Ya wanna stay that long? It’s dangerous out. It’s safer with Lucifer around. ” He protests worriedly - but catches himself quickly. “W-Well. Not that I can’t protect ya… But everyone’s at home, too! The more people around, the better the protectin'!”

“Mammon -”

“Mammon is probably right, MC." Suddenly, you hear a voice behind you. "Though, I admit - I hadn't thought about that when I wrote the letter requesting your visit.”

The two of you jump. You and Mammon immediately find each others’ hands, and whip around to face the source of the voice. Mammon is already stepping forward, stretching his arm in front of you protectively... when he sees who it is.

“Lord… Geez, Lord Diavolo. Barbatos.” He nervously chuckles, stepping back. “We were literally just about to knock. Warn a guy next time, why don’t’cha?”

“No worries, Mammon. Sorry for startling you.” Diavolo offers apologetically. He nods in acknowledgement to you. “Hello there, MC. Lucifer may worry too much if he doesn’t see you before leaving the House, so it may be best for him to see you’re safe and sound, first.”

You look up slowly at the Crown Prince of the Devildom. The prince’s demon butler stands just behind his liege, almost blending into the shadows. They look so… tall. So towering. You don’t register the words that come out of your mouth.

“Oh, u-uh. Okay, then. I’ll help with some RAD event planning, then leave. early”

Mammon gives you a look, shuffling closer and bumping his shoulder into yours, again. “Oi, human, are you sure? I thought earlier you said -”

“I’ll do what Lord Diavolo, said. It’s probably for a reason.” You reply nonchalantly as Barbatos steps forward and unlocks the front door. You can see the hallway as it creaks open and it’s dark. It reminds you of a room you had woken up in when you were pulled from your home with no warning. It reminds you of winding stairs that had lead up to an attic, with a shadowy figure waiting behind a locked door. It was the home of two people who, try as you might, you could never, ever say no to.

Was it fear? You didn’t think so, you could talk to them pretty easily. Agree with them, easily.

Was it hatred? Not that either. You knew Mammon appreciates them for their part in saving you, so you guess you do, too.

You think of the phantom pain from earlier, then think that the darkness of the castle hallway looks a lot more inviting than dwelling on painful memories and difficult questions. So you let your feet follow Diavolo and Barbatos into the castle, laughing when Diavolo fondly tussles Mammon’s hair and enthusiastically piping up with ideas when Barbatos lists off the upcoming events to be held by the student council at RAD.

Mammon does hang back a little at first, though; wondering why you disapproved of his idea when he said it - but then agreed so readily when Diavolo did. But Diavolo did help you with the whole Belphie situation. And he was grateful Diavolo had you brought to the Devildom at all. So he follows you and thinks nothing of it.

And you follow Barbatos and Diavolo. Listening to their every word, like it was instinct. Like you didn’t really have a choice. Just like you didn't have when they had saved you.

Just like you had no choice when they had first brought you here.

(first chapter of the blog's very first series! this was pretty interesting and challenging to write as i really didn't want anything sad or angsty; just the same tone as my other slice-of-life stuff but with little pangs of hurt from the habits that the characters pick up after the belphie incident. i'd like to think that mc and the obm cast actually do recover pretty quickly from lesson 16, but not for the reason of forgiving each other easily, which i'll get to in later chapters. in this case, mc gets along well with dia and barb out of trust for them saving them, but also because they've always taken the reigns on their fate anyway.)

[yandere-sins]

holy crap your previous könig and ghost yan are so good😭 i have this idea, and idk if anyone has incorporated it in any yan stories of them, but the idea of unmasking them and seeing their faces for the first time???? like this is pre-established relationship (with either men idk up to you to imagine which) where you haven’t seen their faces…yet. the most you know is the intimidation you feel every time you see them—or see them lurking around you but like, imagine a scenario where the reader is trying to get them to take off their mask + plus i’m pretty sure ghost and könig has yet to have canon appearances so i’d like to hear your interpretations of them!!!

I had this idea in a not yandere-sense and it was so wholesome and adorable and just intimate where they let you unmask them for the first time, kind of hesitant, but so adoringly... Maybe I should write the harmless version one day, but for now, this is still a yandere blog sorry hahaha! Thanks for requesting!!

Warnings: Yandere, Minor Sexual Content

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

König

♡ König is so flustered. Poor man doesn't even think he deserves you being so agreeable that night, sitting in his lap, allowing him to touch you (shallowly, but his fingers are on your body, and that's more than most nights). Yet, you also caress him back, not saying anything or giving him reasons why you're being so nice. You told him so many times you hate him, driving a dagger into his poor heart over and over. Yet, your fingertips are tracing his shoulders and collarbones gently, carefully. He can't stop swallowing hard with all the drool collecting in his mouth, his brain befuddled with intense adoration and need for you to do more. To touch him more, to make him feel your hands and body rougher than the fluttering touches you're bestowing onto him.

♡ That's the only reason he allows your hands to go further. He really likes his mask, but you driving your hands under it, touching the hot skin underneath, well... it raises more questions and also something else between his legs. But König is way too scared to ruin this moment. He's also afraid of you uncovering something you might not like. A face you might find ugly or scars that you will laugh about. He doesn't want you to think badly of him, even though he can't change his looks anymore. At the same time, he really doesn't want you to stop. Just one more inch of skin bared to you. One more touch of your fingertips and all these feelings he harbors for you might explode out of him. But when you get to the stubble on his chin, your thumb having pressed deliciously into his throat and giving him a kick of adrenaline, suddenly, König revolts. Picking you up and setting you down on the couch before getting up and leaving the room in a hurry, he pulls his shirt-mask down as much as he can. After all, it was a bit too much for him; maybe you'll have more luck next time.

♡ (Yes, he's in the bathroom and miserable that he stopped you. Yes, he needs to take a cold shower afterwards, and yes, he still jerks off despite the icy temperature, bemoaning the roughness of his hands compared to yours.)

Ghost

♡ You know, Ghost really didn't plan to let you do it. It's his thing; he doesn't mind being always covered up and unreadable. It also helps with you and keeping you a bit fearful at all times. But when curiosity kills the cat, and you start playing with the seams of his mask, he just... lets you. Ghost wants to know how far you're willing to go, how bold you are—and how much he can take. He's not ashamed of his face, but the mask is his identity, so there might still come a moment when it's uncomfortable for him. But at the same time, this is like a game to him. One he knows he can stop at any given time, but which will yield a lot of prizes if he endures it.

♡ Because really, what's more adorable than you realizing he's not reacting? You thinking you're allowed to do what you want? You're testing the waters carefully, with only the tips of your nails slipping under the tight mask. Ghost watches you through his lashes as he pretends to still be dozing, unbothered and relaxed. In reality, he's controlling his instinctual flinches as everything screams at him to stop you. But you're not out to unmask and kill him, you're just curious. And you grow bolder, fast. He loves that look on your face, the concentration as you loosen the fabric so it might roll up his neck. You keep glancing at him, and though he knows you want to check if he's still asleep, it feels like you're asking his permission. And Ghost gives it to you. He's in control. So he even cranks his neck so you can push it up his chin, exposing his mouth, excitement about your achievement palpable. But when you adjust your position to continue, driving your hands under the mask and cupping his face, Ghost decides it's enough, pushing upwards to meet you in a kiss.

♡ He'll have you flipped over and complaining faster than you can react to, hands pinned above your heads, and your complaints turning into gasps and moans as he deepens the kiss, his hands exploring you until you arch your body into his touch and your mind is woozy from the loss of oxygen. Now that his mouth is out, he might as well use it to both of your pleasures and who knows, maybe he'll let you go a bit farther next time.

[gutterfuuck]

i’m a literal whoreeee for your somno bff! mark shit. i would love some more of that if you ever get the chance!

-🎀

this is my chance, and i have gotten it!! side note: i have not thought for long on this, but i think that bff!mark would probably have braces… i don’t know, i was sitting and thinking. i do not include this headcanon here!! maybe i will incorporate that idea in future works! let me know!

cw: mdni, somno, this is just smut wow shocker, bff!mark (see other posts), this is a dark content blog! block if you are feeling uncomfortable!! i love lowk creepy highkey obsessed bff!mark…

snow white.

that’s all he could think as the moonlight illuminated your body, sleeping figure laying so peacefully on top of the covers like you were laying in a glass sarcophagus. he listened to the steady sound of your breathing, occasionally interrupted by little murmrs and gasps, shifting your thigh over your other leg in your sleep. he did this often, stayed awake longer than you when you came over to stay at his house. most times he’d just watch you as you slept, sometimes he’d slowly pull your pajama pants down to your knees and ever so carefully lift your shirt over your chest so he could fully take you in. you looked so beautiful like this, there was just something about how serene and peaceful you were when you slept.

he wanted to violate you.

you were tempting him, your soft breaths turned into low mewls as you shifted again before giving a heavy sigh, falling back into motionlessness. mark held himself above you, slowly placing his hands next to either side of your head, his knees separated as if to cage you in. he was. mark could hear his heart pulsing in his ears, could feel how his face went hot, how his dick started to throb in his boxers. he wondered what you’d do if you woke up, if you’d be scared, if you’d try to push him away… he hated how his cock twitched at the thought, he’d never want to hurt you. ever. mark’s fingers fiddled with the hem of your pants, tugging them down, down… just so he could see your bare cunt glistening, wet with your arousal. he had to bite back a moan. you’d been dreaming about something inappropriate. your wetness stuck to your pajamas, almost driving your best friend off the edge.

he’d done this before, more times than he could count on one hand but this was different. it was like you were expecting him to do this, like you wanted him to. you’d gotten wet for him before when he had slid his hand into your panties after you’d shared a night out together, holding you in his arms as he played with your clit, watching your body twitch when he circled it for too long. mark came in his pants that night, sucking your slick off of his fingers… this night was different, he hadn’t even touched you yet and you were already like this. just for him, he thought. all for him.

“you’ve been waiting, huh?” he asked softly, voice barely a whisper. he pressed his thumb between your folds, mind hazy as he searched for that little nub, flicking it with his digit when he felt it. “dreaming about me..?” he felt so selfish, so shameful. he pushed his thoughts away, they’d only make him feel worse. the constant echoing of his conscious telling him no, that this was wrong made him want to defile you even more. he straddled your legs, sitting up on his knees so he could move his hands more freely without having to lean on his other hand for balance above you. “i hope you’re dreaming of me..” he palmed himself through his clothes, he wanted to fuck you. he lifted up your shirt, pushing it up to your chin so he could grope your breasts, nipples poking at his palms. you made a sound and mark flinched, ready to roll over and pretend that he was asleep. he calmed himself when you took in a deep breath, still sleeping. still his.

mark’s cock bounced free, hard and leaking all for you. a part of him felt upset that you weren’t awake to see him, to see how much he needed you and wanted you, how badly he wanted to be yours. “m’sorry, you got me all worked up..” he sighed, leaning down to kiss you on your nose, your collar bone, your stomach… all the way down until he was face to face with your pussy, being careful not to tickle your inner thighs with his hair. he couldn’t have you waking up now. not yet, he hadn’t even started yet. he spread you open with his thumbs, eyes catching the way your clit twitched at him. his dick rested on the cool bedsheet, his hips grinding softly as to not make the bed creak, lips attacking your slick slit messily, hungrily. “don’t know how much i need this…” he hummed, tongue sliding up from your opening back to your clit, retreating into his mouth to savour you. this was fucked up, he knew it. you’d never think of doing this to him, never in a million years.

“mm, taste so good… smell so good..” he spoke as he licked you up, your thighs tensing. he sucked on your clit greedily before moving his mouth again, making out with your cunt while you slept soundly, safely. his hand wrapped around his cock, working it up and down, “n-nhg.. y/n..-“ your name felt like a prayer, golden. it rolled off his tongue perfectly, like your name belonged in his mouth. he couldn’t get enough, sucking and lapping at your juices as soon as they dribbled out, hand fondling one of your boobs. he could cum just like this, he was pretty sure he’d be able to cum from your scent alone. mark had to stop himself, unenthusiastically parting from your pretty pussy lips, licking the sides of his mouth like he had finished a meal.

mark pressed his lips against yours, tongue slivering into your mouth to meet yours. he liked kissing you, it was like you tried kissing back. your tongue would move timidly, his desperate and with purpose, hips stuttering when his tip rubbed against your tummy. you hadn’t woken up yet, hadn’t rolled in a certain way to let him know that it was time to stop before you woke up and caught him. “we’re gonna… we’re gonna do this together one day…” he huffed, trying to keep his voice low and hushed. he moved forward, crawling up the bed until your face was flush with his shaft. he rubbed the tip against your cheek, leaving a shiny line of pre on your skin. “so pretty, so, so pretty…” he trailed off, mumbling nonsense to himself about how he couldn’t help it, you were just so… tempting. in your sleep, your mouth opened with a deep sigh. you temptress. that was it, his breaking point.

all resolve flew out of the window, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down until he could see your teeth. mark had to pause, had to stop. he needed to stop, he couldn’t just lose it. but you were begging him to feel your mouth, why else would you open your mouth like that just as he was rubbing his cockhead on your cheek? obviously, you had no control over what you did in your sleep but mark thought otherwise, believed otherwise. “you’re so good to me..” he praised, leaky head resting right on your open lips. “j-just half, know you can take half…” his cock started to push past, hissing when he felt the tip of your tongue on his frenulum, involuntarily bucking his hips. he had to be careful, couldn’t risk waking you up out of your slumber. he was too far gone now, couldn’t explain this away if you did open your eyes.

“wan’ so bad… y/n, please…” and just like that, your mouth opened more, like you had heard him. you hadn’t, those were your reflexes. mark’s head tilted back, dick holding your sleepy jaw open as he started moving, slow and steady. “throat.. mh, i wanna fuck it…” he babbled, pulling his hips back and watching as his cock slid out of your wet mouth, slapping it against your forehead a few times. he really should stop, you were starting to move around. with the moment still raw in his mind, mark placed a hand on your rib, settling to jerk off onto your stomach. he cursed himself for not acting earlier, he could’ve been able to paint your face if he had. he pumped his cock urgently, small “ah-ah-ah”’s increasing in volume as he approached his orgasm, red hot pleasure coursing up his spine and making him almost choke on his moan, biting his lip hard so he didn’t make a sound, white ropes shooting out onto your stomach, pooling at your belly button. the sight of you, the way you just scrunched up your nose and relaxed again, it was enough to keep him hard and straining, even if he had just squirted pearly white all over your body.

post nut clarity hit him hard, disgust crawled into him, pinching his nose bridge in between his fingers with a shaky sigh, giving himself a second to regroup his thoughts. mark grabbed one of his shirts from the neat pile on his desk, using it to clean up the mess he had made on you. he’d cum so much that a droplet had found its way to your chin, quickly swiping it away with the cotton of his shirt. he pulled your pants up tidily before working to wipe away his cum from your skin, not noticing how your head craned to look over at him.

“…mark..?” he stopped dead in his tracks, turning his head to look at you slowly in the dark. suddenly he felt like a scumbag, dirty, like he needed to take a shower to clean himself from himself. your shirt was still pulled up, you were still exposed. “wh-what’re you doing…?” you questioned, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you waited for a response. your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark yet, you couldn’t see mark’s guilty expression. he had to think, fast.

“you- you were moving around.. looked like you were having a nightmare.” good. now he just needed to explain away your shirt and the fact that he was wiping you clean of something. “i went.. i got you a glass of water— uh, milk, thought it’d help if you woke up… i’m sorry, i spilled it, i-i know what this looks like..- i swear i-“ you cut him off, shaking your head at him. “you’ve always been so clumsy, marks.” you yawned, sitting up in his bed, letting your shirt fall over your naked chest as if nothing had happened. we was your best friend after all, there was nothing to hide from him. close call. very, very close call. “i believe you, i don’t know why you get so worked up.” you placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly for a second. he gave a nervous laugh, he was terrible. you were so nice, so sweet… how could you accuse your best friend of something like that anyway?

he felt awful. he wanted to apologise, wanted to get on his knees and beg you to forgive him for defiling your body like that, tainting you without your knowledge or suspicion. he didn’t know why he felt so horrible, this happened all the time. rinse and repeat, he’d be back to it eventually. “sorry.” he offered, scratching the back of his neck idly to which you smiled, playfully landing a punch on his bicep, “it’s fine, dude. it’s not like you’re a creep or anything.” oh, that burned him in his chest. it swelled up, eating away at him… until he bubbled with pride. he could really get away with anything when he was with you.

“i wanted it, though.”

you spoke, making mark’s blood run cold. had you been awake? he was going to defend himself, going to apologise for lying and not telling you the truth- “my drink, you said you bought me up a drink. my throat’s dry.” saved again. he was so lucky. mark stood up from his bed, legs shaky and hands trembling. he had gotten away with it again. close call, again. you watched as he left the room, turning on the desk light before he walked downstairs, giving you a little bit of light.

as mark stepped around in the kitchen with your drink, he thought to himself, “how many close calls until she realises?” it echoed in his brain, he knew the day would come.

you placed your hand on your stomach, sly smile plastered on your face as you felt something drip down from your sternum. next time, he should really turn on the light before leaving you alone to observe his remaining mess. you swiped it up with your thumb, licking it off of the pad of your digit.

mark grayson tasted really good.

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

Oh my god I read "insatiable," the Trey fic, and I am literally in awe, it was SO good I literally need to inject it into my veins. It's unfortunately rare for me to find Trey smut that I vibe with so I am REALLY happy I found your blog!! I think I saw that your requests are open right now (and I also saw that you also like Trey),,, could I please request more Trey smut </3

I trust your vision for him tbh, so not too many specifics here, but if you could somehow incorporate Trey being very loving and praising his partner, that would literally be the cherry on top. Loving partners are so sexy/j

You are doing god's work here and I'm so interested to see more fics from you in general!

Sweetie Pie

A/N: I agree Alice… Finding fics of Trey is like finding gold coins on the beach. Trey is sexy. People just need to be more open minded… Thank you for enjoying my writing… Sometimes I am very bashful about it. So I am happy that I could please you. This is what I have to offer.

tags: gn!reader, praise kink wc: 1.5k+

You almost felt bad about lying to Riddle. Almost. It was 11pm when you arrived in Heartslabyul. A small duffle bag hanging off your shoulder as you crept through the halls and up the stairs to a particular someone’s dorm room. You nearly jumped out of your skin when a door swung open,  and Riddle was frowning in the doorway. Thankfully, you had rehearsed your excuse. When asked why you had snuck into the building, you waved a hand dismissively and pulled a green notebook out of your bag. You had borrowed Trey’s notes for the alchemy exam. You just wanted to return them before class started tomorrow. 

The Housewarden was hesitant. Yawning softly before starting to smile. He was happy that you were doing something honorable. When he offered you an escort for your walk back you assured him that you would be okay. The walk wasn’t that long. Riddle must’ve been too tired to acknowledge the duffle bag in its entirety. Which was a good thing for you. You didn’t exactly lie. That was why you almost felt bad. You were returning Trey’s notes and having a sleepover. 

The moment you entered his room you could feel his body against yours. The door was pushed shut with your body pinned against the hard surface and Trey’s strong body. His lips peppered the side of your face, his leg slid between your thighs, and he successfully took your duffle bag from its place on your shoulder to hit the floor with a soft thud. “At least give me a hello.” You teased, turning your head with a soft whine as he snatched your earlobe between his teeth. “Hiii.” He purred softly and kissed along the side of your face. You could smell the fresh mint on his breath. You loved the way it prickled and electrified your skin. 

This was all the cause of pent up energy from exams. The two of you agreed to focus on your studies, not realizing the consequences that would come from lack of attention. The both of you were so touch starved. Trey had startled you with his enthusiastic request for a school night sleepover. You had no reason to decline. Your hips rolled against his light, hoping for friction as his hands rubbed against the sides of your body. Your top was pushed up as Trey caught your lips in a quick biting kiss that left your bottom lip caught in his teeth. You shivered with a weak moan as he released the flesh with a playful grin, hidden in the darkness of the dorm room. His thumbs rubbed gingerly over your budding nipples. Your hips rocked faster with the silent desire for more. “Does that feel good?” He asked softly and you nodded. Far too bashful to use your voice. “Awww that makes me happy~” Trey sighed with a smile.

When his hips rolled into yours, meeting your meek thrusts you could feel how hard his cock was. Hidden beneath his cotton pajama pants. There was a stuttering breath as he pinched and teased your nipples, ducking his head down to suck at your throat as you reached downwards to slide a finger in the waistband and pull. “Come on…” You whined impatiently. Your breath hitching when he sucked hard on the flesh closest to your jaw before pulling away with a wet smack. “What happened to the ‘hello’s?” Trey chuckled softly as you exhaled your frustration. “Alright, alright. Here is fine?” The Vice Housewarden posed it as a question. But really he was telling you. Not asking you. 

Your bottoms were slipped down your thighs and pooled around your ankles. Your lips caught in hungry kisses as Trey lowered his body, pressing his mouth harder against yours to silence your yelp. His strong arms had lifted you against the door. You were folded against his body now, knees hooked over his elbows as he pulled away to let you breathe. A thin trail of spit connecting your bruised lips to his. The position was suffocating. The position was erotic. Your hands grabbed at his arms with your skin burning from your ears and down to your collarbone. The heat between your legs was intense as Trey pressed his head against yours. “You wanna work yourself open for me? Get it nice and ready so I can fill you up?” His tone was polite. Giving you no reason to deny. Your skin was coating itself in a thin film of sweat, burning against the cool air of the room as you snuck a hand down between your legs to pump a finger in and out of yourself. You could feel Trey’s eyes watching you. “Only one finger? I think two would make it easier. Or do you like the way it feels when you get stretched open?” He asked softly as he peppered kisses along the side of your face. Your finger pumped and curled faster. “When I fill you up with my cock? When it presses against that special spot inside of you? I love when your eyes roll up into your head, that’s how I know you’re close to cumming.” Having his husky voice encouraging you like this was already pushing you to the edge of an orgasm. You slipped a second finger inside, listening to the squish and wet sound of your furious movements. You wanted to cum. But you would rather have Trey inside of you first. 

“Can you stay quiet for me?” He asked with another delicate kiss pressed against your face and you nodded with your fingers slowing to a stop. Your heart was ready to jump out of your throat from excitement. It was almost embarrassing how excited you were to be fucked. Almost. “Pull your fingers out. I’ll make you feel good. Just make sure to keep it down okay?” Trey instructed and naturally you obeyed with a dazed look on your face. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, hugging him close as you listened to the shuffle of clothing. “You’re such a good listener, doing everything I ask without complaining.” He chuckled quietly. Your hole clenched when you felt something round pushing against you, breaching the entrance. Your nails dug into his shirt and you forced your head into his shoulder. “You take me so well. Even when you cried and sobbed about it being too big for you at first.” Trey pushed slowly, feeling you convulse around each inch as the muscles in your stomach cramped and twisted. Aching for more and more. To be filled entirely. “You’re so good for me. So perfect. I couldn’t ask for anything more. I’m lucky to be the guy you like.” He huffed with a tight roll of his hips. His grip on your hips tightened as he lifted you slightly, only to drag your body downwards as your back slid against the wood of the door. “Ohhhh fuuuckkk…” The warbled sound was pulled out of your throat as Trey nestled deep inside of your body. 

Your thighs shaking and your toes curled tightly as you attempted to stop yourself from cumming. The round tip of his cock rubbed your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Pressing harshly as stars dotted your vision. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you felt yourself starting to orgasm no matter how hard you tried to hold back. And Trey knew this. “Already? Ohhhh sweetie pie~” He cooed as you tilted your head back until it rested against the wood of the door. And with a gentle kiss on your forehead, Trey began to lift you, and pull you back down onto his cock. Starting slow before gradually picking up speed. The lewd wet smacks of skin meeting made you cry and moan. You struggled to bite back the sounds as your insides were given the rough massage you needed. The daily stressors. The annoyances around you during class. Running around on behalf of the Headmage. All being fucked out of you and forgotten bit by bit. “Shhhh- Remember you have to be quiet.” Trey warned with your lips again caught in his. You were struggling to catch your breath now. When he pulled away he was pouting, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. “You’re doing so good. So, so good for me. You wanna cum again?” He asked and you nodded quickly. Your breath short as Trey’s short nails left deep crescents on your hips. “Cum with me okay? Come on.” You obeyed. You had no reason not to. 

You shook and strangled your loud cry in your throat. Body twitching from overstimulation against the hard surface of the door as Trey fucked you through said orgasm. His cock beating against the bundle of nerves before pressing tight against it. His cock throbbing with each gush of sperm oozing out and filling you. 

The warmth was pleasant. Leaving you in a daze as you started to fall limp, allowing yourself to be supported by Trey. You felt him shiver as he began to soften, warming his cock inside of you. “Are you okay?” He whispered, and you nodded. You felt more than okay. But you were too tired to speak up. 

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi, are there any recommendations you have for me for my writing process? My process is extremely long because I keep getting stuck. Got an idea for a conflict, okay. Stuck on fleshing that out. Eventually done. Stuck on my characters, who they are, and their roles. Finally get that done. But now I need to figure out backstory. Stuck. Figure out the plotline/solution to the conflict. Stuck. It's MONTHS between these steps of writing a story. I'm on the verge of giving up...

Slow and Clunky Writing Process

Please don't give up. The world needs the stories only you can tell. ♥

There is so much information out there about plot, story structure, conflict, goals, outlining, backstory, plot points, pacing, theme, character arc... blah, blah, blah... it can get incredibly overwhelming, especially if you can't seem to get to point of actually writing the story.

Having said that, I think it's so, soooo important to know that you don't actually have to worry so much about that stuff at the beginning.

The truth of the matter is, your first stories are probably not going to be the stories you publish. That doesn't mean you can't publish them, it's just that most of us will write two or three, maybe four or five stories before we write one that's good enough to share. As a result, what typically happens is you get a little bit better at all of those things (conflict, pacing, character arc, etc.) with every story you write. Keep learning about those things as you go, and try your best to incorporate them into each story, but you shouldn't be looking for a level of perfection that they hold you back.

Think of it like this: if you decided you wanted to build your own home, you wouldn't read a bunch of blog posts and books about home construction, maybe take a workshop or two, and then start building, expecting to build a house you could actually live in. Instead, you'd probably start by building some smaller structures... maybe a dog house, a patio with pergola, maybe help a friend split a big room in their house into two rooms. You'd take on smaller projects to put your budding skills to use and practice them. Then, when you got really good at everything, you might be ready to build your house.

Writing is the same way. You can't take all of that information and pour it into a perfect, flawless story in one go round. It's too hard, too overwhelming, and you never get a chance to actually hone your budding skills.

So, start by just writing the stories you want to write... just for fun... just to practice your skills. Don't worry if your conflict isn't perfectly fleshed out. Don't worry if your pacing is wonky or your character arc is unsatisfactory. Focus first on just writing the story. Then, you can hone your revision skills by trying to improve those things once the first draft is complete. Put the story through two or three revisions, and you're really sharpening those skills. When you go to write and revise the next story, it's going to be a little bit easier.

You'll know when you get to a point where you've written something that's publishable. You'll still need to do two or three revisions to get it where it needs to be, but the whole process will be much easier.

And one last thing: don't worry about backstory unless it's critical for helping the reader understand the world of the story, the conflict, or who the character is/why they do what they do. ♥

Happy writing! I promise it gets easier!!!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[thedollhousediaries]

The Dollhouse Diaries

Real Life In Plastic Tip #6:

ෆTime Management for Neurodivergent Girly Girls and Boujie Hyperfemmesෆ

This is the pretty girl era of having time management under control. The key is to learn how to live in the moment while also being discipline enough to move on to the next task as needed. I know that sentence was as daunting to read as it was for me to write ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა I guarantee I gotcha *Chaeyoung voice*

First Things First: Go 1 Week At a Time!! (every 3 days if an entire 7 is too much or your schedule is unpredictable, like mine)

Build a simple list of all the things you have to do and that you would like to do. Its much easier to get it all out on the table so you can donate more of your brain power to sorting things, rather than holding things.

Put all of the things listed on a calendar: Most important first things first! This means things like health appointments,work schedule, birthdays, holidays that you celebrate, classes, or anything that involves not only your time but other’s as well. Then after that put the elective things second; Nail appointments, shopping trips, dates with friends, etc. Lastly, put the things you would like to incorporate into your daily routine; We talking skincare, any hobbies you may have like drawing/painting/sculpting/reading/blogging, any form of exercise, etc.

Once the week or however much time you have scheduled out is done on your overall calendar, then its time for marrying it to your life.

Marrying your schedule: Planner apps, Physical Planner, Dry Erase Boards and Bullet Journals

Choosing your medium at keeping up with your schedule is very important. You may have to try them all before you get comfortable with something. I have tried them all and I’ve found that the main one that truly stuck with me was the app/website Notion. I like it because its fully customizable and you can use it at your own pace. Every week or every day may not be super eventful and so it drops the guilt and shameful feeling of not filling up pages every single day.

Here is what all I use and the way I use them:

Notion <3 I use it as my overall journal. I use the apps on my ipad/phone to check if I’m not home and I can use the website on my PC when I’m home and relaxing. I like it because its very versatile. Think of it as a digital journal combined with similar mechanics of tumblr. I use it for literally everything. There are a lot of videos that can show off all of the cool things Notion can be used for but this is the video that personally helped me learn it quickly

Bullet Journals <3 I have about 3 journals and I love them because I get to customize things with cute stickers and it gives very fun scrapbooking vibes. Because I use Notion as a all over planner I can use my BUJO’s for more fun and creative things. I usually use these for all of my cute ideas and things thats in my mind and aesthetic wishlists and such. Its very therapeutic to take time out to be kawaii and glamorous and just put cute thoughts on to paper! I mainly use it for kpop inputs, my fav shows, wishlists, dates and etc.

Dry erase board <3 I use this as a overall daily top important to-do list! Sometimes I dont always open my notion if I dont have anything extremely important coming up but there may be some things I need to keep on my mind to do for that day. The way my neurodivergency is set up I need to keep the most important things always in my face or I could forget everything. So, I put things on there like get a new tire, pick up order from bath & bodyworks, put clothes in the dryer, wash dishes, and etc. Daily tasks like that usually goes on my dry erase board

Remember at the end of the day dont be too hard on yourself and your schedule! Move at your own pace and always set yourself up for success. Scheduling is ideally suppose to calm you and be a tool to improve your life; not stress you out. If at any point you begin to feel overwhelmed just stop and recenter yourself and your life. I felt overwhelmed at first myself and that was because I was trying to keep up with a hyper organized and productive version of myself that I needed to give more patience to develop. Let this come organically to you and not because you are trying to keep up with what u feel everyone else is doing, or to the future self you are going to inevitably become. Happy scheduling, Dollmate!

[eldritch-spouse]

Ima be real honest when I first came to your blog ages ago the designs of Ludwig and Santi made me assume it was a gay (mlm specifically) blog (due to most male characters being so when presented in that way), which would have been fine but it’s not really the kind of thing I’m interested in often so I probably wouldn’t have stuck around.

I was pleasantly surprised to find out that most of your characters are bisexual and also that your blog is mostly geared towards women as most of the monster stuff I’ve come across has been geared towards men, which has made it annoying to try and find things more relevant in the past. Whenever I have actually occasionally come across monsterfucker content geared towards women in the past it’s usually just been humans that hardly look monstrous in the slightest (aka maybe they just have fangs) or are too far on the other end of the spectrum where it almost just feels like beastiality

No- No anon- You can't just drop this in my hands and take off running. What. What do you- Be honest. Do I have the artstyle of a gay man? Putting that one aside (which I will need to unpack rsrsrs)-

I absolutely understand what you're saying. More below.

While a lot of the monsterfucker content I consume is veered towards women, most of that content is written. Because when it's drawn, it doesn't always meet my standards, just like it doesn't for you. It could be because the character is indeed too humanoid, because it's generic werewolf_#32980, they're too pretty, or anything else really. It's hard to explain but it doesn't always hit the spot.

I'll concede that sometimes it's quite hard to determine how sentient a described monster is, but you can always explicitly impart sentience onto them as the creator (like a licker from RE, for example. Sentience? Ehh, questionable. But a licker OC who retains sentience after transforming? Okay with me.) Unfortunately, some people like to lump teratophilia and literal animals in the same bag. I've had one admitted zoo follow me, instant block naturally.

A lot of the inspiration and personal favorite monster drawings of mine are, actually, made by gay men. They draw monsters better, I just can't pinpoint why. I like the style better, which inhuman features they choose to incorporate and how they do it. A lot of it is from gay furry artists that don't even consider themselves monsterfuckers yet draw monsters like they were born for it. I like it when they're cartoony yet still hot, they have more style variety, I think. There's so much to like that you often don't see in a woman monsterfucker's work. It saddened me a lot, before I started making my own content, that all of it was for men. Thus my enjoyment was always a bit tainted by disappointment.

I never made a conscious effort to emulate the style of mlm artists, truly. I just try to draw what I like. But a lot of what I sometimes attempt to syphon into my art comes from possibly mlm or not entirely originally women-oriented styles, yes.

You've made me question the vibes of my own art now. 🤔

[hayatheauthor]

How To Write And Research Mental Illnesses 

Mental illnesses are a large aspect of literature often incorporated into various different genres. However, even with their prevalence, many authors are often unaware of how to write about mental illnesses accurately. If you’re an author writing a character with a mental illness, here are some tips on how to write with mental illnesses. 

Don’t ‘Self Diagnose’ Your Characters 

When writing about mental illnesses it’s important to consider whether or not your character would realistically have this mental illness given their situation and story. Many authors often ‘self diagnose’ their characters without actually taking the time to research these illnesses and figure out whether their character would develop this illness if they were a real person. 

I say ‘self diagnose’ because as authors we generally do diagnose our characters based on our own interpretations and plans for them and their story, without looking to real people with these illnesses. 

Just because your character is going through an unproductive slump doesn’t mean they they are depressed. Just because your character is nervous and experiencing stage fright doesn’t mean they have anxiety. 

Take the time to look into these mental illnesses and genuinely consider whether or not your character has a mental illness, or if you’re just self diagnosing and wrongly labelling them. 

Do Your Research 

Whenever I blog about such sensitive topics, I always find myself ultimately mentioning this one point. This is because even with so many resources available to us both online and offline, writers still choose to be blissfully unaware of sensitive topics mentioned in their WIPs or stories. 

I sincerely cannot stress how important it is for a writer to do their due diligence and research the topics they write for, especially if it is something as sensitive as mental illnesses. 

Once you have established that your character would realistically develop or undergo a mental illness given the situation they are in, it is now time to research what exactly they would go through. 

A simple google search can tell you everything you need to know about your character’s mental illness. Or, you could reach out to people you know who suffer from the same illness and ask them questions about it. 

Researching your character’s mental illness helps ensure you don’t accidentally misrepresent that illness or create symptoms that are inaccurate and insulting to people who do suffer from that mental illness. It will also provide you with a sense of ease as an author, and allow you to work on your WIP without having to worry about accidentally offending an entire community. 

Remember The Three Ss

One of the biggest challenges writers face with writing with mental illnesses is unrealistic representation. Unsure where to start with your research? Here is a simple guide for you to keep in mind. 

When writing about mental illnesses, you need to recall the three Ss: 

Symptoms 

Side effects 

Stages 

Symptoms 

Every illness or disease has its own symptoms, the same applies to mental illnesses. When writing about a character with mental illnesses, you need to take the time to research the symptoms of this illness and how these symptoms can impact your character on a day-to-day and general level. 

For example, a character with PTSD would face trouble sleeping and concentrating, would be irritable, angry and face overwhelming guilt or shame. These symptoms can all make it hard for a person to excel at school or the workplace and can lead to delayed deadlines, unfinished work, and a lot of stress and anxious thinking. 

A character with PTSD would likely not be able to handle being at the top of their class, unless they completely engross themselves in their studies to the point where they can’t think of anything except that. However, if that were the case then they would find it very hard to handle ‘normal’ situations and wouldn’t be getting a lot of sleep. 

Side Effects 

A side effect is a temporary and commonly unwanted effect of a drug or medical condition. Unlike a symptom, a side effect can be harmful or beneficial and most go away on their own over time. 

They wouldn’t be considered as ‘serious’ as a symptom, however, they can still significantly impact your character, their story, and their dynamics with the characters they interact with. 

Following the above example, a character with PTSD would generally suffer from an inability to develop or maintain positive, healthy interpersonal relationships and an inability to trust others. They also often face side effects such as social isolation, chronic feelings of fear, etc. 

These are all side effects that would make it hard for a character with PTSD to maintain emotional relationships. You can use this to portray their sudden lack of connection with friends and family, and how they find themselves only associating with people who have either been through or understand their situation. 

Stages 

A person with cancer, or other such physical illnesses, doesn’t suddenly hit a chronic level overnight. The same logic applies to mental illnesses. Mental illnesses don’t just develop overnight. Your character won’t suddenly wake up one day in chapter ten and have a full-blown panic attack because they developed a panic disorder. 

Yes, people can face symptoms or side effects pertaining to a mental illness after facing a traumatic event. However, when writing about such events, it’s very important to do your research and consider whether or not a person would realistically undergo such serious symptoms in such a small timeframe given the circumstances. 

Outside of incidents that are a direct result of a traumatic event, it’s important to consider the stages your character would experience as a result of their mental illness. 

For example, a person with PTSD goes through five stages, the first being the impact or emergency stage, during which they struggle to process or deal with the situation they have gone through. Then comes the denial or numbing stage. 

Following the above example, a numbing stage would be akin to when a character pretends the traumatic event never occurred and throws themselves into their work or school. Then comes a rescue stage, which would be when other characters begin to intervene or when the character comes to terms with the events and starts to better themselves. 

Knowing the stages of your character’s mental illness allows you to accurately plan out what happens in your story and create a realistic portrayal of their suffrage. It also helps flesh out your story for your readers and allows you to seamlessly incorporate your character’s illness into the story. 

Don’t Define Them By Their Mental Illness

Now that you have a general idea of how to write and research mental illnesses, I would like to end this blog post with a small reminder. People with mental illnesses are human. They have personalities, hobbies, likes, dislikes, and other such traits that often have nothing to do with their mental illness. 

When writing with a mental illness, it’s important to take this into account and ensure you don’t constantly define your character by their mental illness, or even worse, reduce them to their mental illness. 

I hope this blog on how to write and research mental illnesses will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and marketing tools for authors every Monday and Thursday.