#- then i'll have an easier time. but. it's still gonna be so hard. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

illusioncanthurtme--art · 3 months ago

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This may be a silly question… but I’m an artist trying to learn backgrounds. I’ve studied perspective until my hands fell off, but I don’t know how to choose an angle or not make things look wonky. I’ve tried asking a lot of artists, but I’m hoping to hear more than “just draw backgrounds”, because I have been, but I’m not improving.

Do you have any tips on how to practice?

The anonymous ask is much more recent but it reminded me of another ask from @cerealssoggies i forgot to answer thats, OOF... gotten old. Sorry about that. I'll answer your ask more directly at the end of this.

I'll talk about the perspective ask first. Anon... I'll answer your question as best as I can!

I think what makes perspective tricky is the beginning, when you're using perspective lines and grids and such to map out the picture. Because the actual technique of 2 point perspective isn't hard or complicated, it's getting the scene to look the way it does in your head thats tricky. I'm talking about the metaphorical "camera" location, angle, and... idk, focal length? If I'm using that phrase correctly.

So you can draw something like a simple square bedroom, and by the time you're done placing your horizon line, vanishing point, and perspective lines, and actually start drawing, you realize it doesn't look like how it does in your head. And from there, it's hard or nearly impossible to move things around to look like your vision, so you'll be tweaking each thing individually: uhh, let's move the horizon line down, the left vanishing point further? The right one closer? Both further? Huh??? And it's frustrating.

I've found, if you're drawing an environment from your imagination, the best way to start is to draw an teeeeny tiny thumbnail sketch. The smaller the better. Not just environments, but any drawing idea is easier to map out when it's smaller. Your brain can latch onto the visual as a whole when it's all tiny on a piece of paper.

Drawing my current blog header, the one of ford's research tent, I had a similar pickle. I knew exactly where I wanted the camera to be, in the corner of the tent, and I knew I wanted the camera to be more wide, so you could see most of his tent while keeping the feeling that it's small. I started digitally with perspective lines and quickly got frustrated. SO - I took to my sketchbook and thought reeeeeally hard about what it looked like in my head, and tried mapping it out in a tiny tiny thumbnail. Here's what that looked like:

This was closer to what I wanted than what I first had on my computer. I knew from there that I wanted the furniture items to be closer together and the camera higher (you can see my scribble writing saying this), so I scanned my thumbnail, and drew on top of it to get closer to the vision. Then, from there, I was able to add a proper perspective grid based on what I had already drawn.

THEN you can finally get down to the fun part - actually populating your room with furniture and details. I put this sketch on paper and did most of the real drawing traditionally:

In summary: instead of jumping straight into perspective theory, thumbnail the idea as rough as you can. Then base the angles of the perspective lines on your thumbnail.

But.... even still, I don't have the strongest ability to picture things mentally, and not everyone is gonna be able to do that (although it is a good muscle to exercise.) Sort of a segue into the second ask - those backgrounds of dibs car? I straight up traced over pictures I took of my car. I'm not the biggest advocate for tracing, it does kind of feel like cheating, BUT for the purposes of this animation? There's no point in getting on a high horse. I needed to draw his car like 10 times and there was no reason to torture myself. I did photoshop some of the photos before I drew over them because the focal length made the car look bigger than I wanted it to? And a lot of it was guessing what the car looked like behind the front seats, etc.

But this does remind me of an exercise I did in school for an illustration mentorship class. The mentor for one unit was a set designer working for Netflix. She was given photos of a room that a scene would be shot in, and she drew the set on top of it: like furniture, decorations, etc. So my assignment was to choose a stock photo, and do some world building concept art based on the photo. From the photo, you can figure out the perspective by identifying lines/angles that theoretically lead to a vanishing point. You need at least two lines, and you extend them really far and see where they cross. Where they meet is a vanishing point. Find two vanishing points and they are level with the horizon line. Then use the perspective dots you just found to draw furniture, items, and you can even get creative and change the shape/height/size of the rooms/buildings/etc, while still using the same perspective.

If an image from the internet feels too much like cheating (it SHOULDN'T, you'll only learn from it and your drawing won't look anything like the image by the time you're done), you can always take your own photos. This technique is honestly what made me enjoy drawing backgrounds in the first place. It made it fun! And drawing should be fun.

I still do this sort of thing today. Here's the reference picture I had my sister take of me for my Fairy godmother illustration. (This is from a couple years ago.) I drew on top of it in photoshop to get my best guess as to the lines and angles. I didn't trace this one, but I did use it very heavily for reference!

So I guess... to summarize both techniques, don't jump right into perspective. Best way to start, that's fun and not wildly frustrating, is to use a photo. If your vision is hyper specific, start from a tiny thumbnail and work your way up. Then the fun part!! Populating the scene with furniture and items and fun little details.

To answer @cerealssoggies question more directly: omg, thank you?? :O💞 I'm always so wowed when people talk about my prints and where they put them. I'm really glad you like the fairy godmother one! My mom also has one hung up in her room lol!

My advice on the design front isn't as specific, because that always felt like the easy part. Once you have the room or whatever mapped out, it's just about drawing all the Stuff. Which for me usually means getting in the head of the character and asking myself what sort of things they'd have around themselves and their environment. And obviously if the setting isn't a characters room/personal environment like the previous three examples, then you'd just have to think about what the environments purpose is, and what sort of stuff would be there. When I'm thinking about a background before I draw it, I'll ask myself what items or features it will have. For the ford tent, I made a list of all the stuff I thought he might have in there (I googled winter camping trip packing lists, as well as science-y tools and gadgets). For dibs car, I asked people on tumblr for suggestions as to what I should put in there.

And look up references! Reference is always a good thing.

In real life, I'm a maximalist and a clutterbug. This bleeds into my drawings - I like it when an environment feels full and lived in.

Here's my bedroom lol.

WELL typing and compiling this took up a greater portion of my Friday but I really hope this was helpful to you and others!!

#ask #answered #anon #cerealssoggies #drawing tips #perspective #perspective drawing #drawing tutorial #background drawing #background art

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pppeachyyys · 5 months ago

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*ೃ༄ bllk boys + cliche love tropes!

ft: isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, mikage reo

✩ what cliche love trope are the blue lock boys?

female reader, so much fluff, i got a lil lazy..., hc + small drabble!!

ISAGI YOICHI - childhood friends to lovers

✩ everything is a "do together" activity. this includes (and is not limited to) throwing woodchips in the playground, studying, eating bentoes, sleeping, even taking baths.

✩ naturally, you both are very protective of each other!! the years of bonding gave you two an unbreakable connection.

✩ had fake marriage ceremony behind the slides in the playground, and you both just kind of stuck to the idea of "husband and wife" ever since. (you were both 6)

✩ despite it being so long, isagi still gets so flustered around you!! he has that sweet grin every time he greets you in the morning.

✩ always waits outside your door to walk together to school. sometimes when it's cold, he'll even offer his extra scarf for you, wrapping it around your face.

✩ when people ask about you, hes so quick to simply go "oh, n/n? we're gonna get married for real one day!" with that cute smile and blush.

✩ it even gets to a point where when he goes pro, he ALWAYS makes sure to mention your name in every single interview.

↳

sweat dribbles down to isagi's chin, his chest heavy, rising up and down in attempt to catch the oxygen he's so desperate for. despite it not even being 30 minutes after one of his biggest games, he's getting bombarded with the press and their eggy questions.

the man closest to him raises his mic towards isagi and the cameras zero in on the two. it's hard to hear his voice due to the pumping of blood through his veins, but he manages to catch the basic idea.

"who are the people who have supported you to becoming the star player of the game today?"

isagi is quick to think of one particular person. despite feeling absolutely milked, a smile forms on his face. with heavy breathing, he replies, "well, obviously my parents and my teammates, they always pushed me to be better and improve, but there's a special girl out there who has always been my biggest supporter."

the crowd audibly coos, the flashes simply getting even brighter. isagi can tell that everyone is begging for him to continue, so he does, his desire to brag about you growing.

"she's always been there for me, watching me since i managed to find my love for soccer. and i don't think i could be here if it wasn't for her." he ponders if he should say the next sentence, but the swell of his heart overtakes his brain.

"thank you, y/n. and when i come back home, i'll make sure you're the happiest girl in the world."

ITOSHI RIN - forced proximity

✩ when i say forced, IM TALKING FORCED!! like- you're the foreign exchange student living in his own house!

✩ at first, its awkward. little word is exchanged between you two, and the only interaction you get is a simple "it's your turn to shower" or "come down to eat dinner".

✩ he also never walks with you to school either despite living in the same house and attending the same school.

✩ eventually, you're convinced that you're never going to befriend rin, but a small upbringing makes you realize that he's just shy and closed off.

✩ once you slowly gain understanding of rin's true character, it's a little easier to talk to him. and even he starts to warm up a little.

✩ living in the same house brings so many opportunities and it's impossible to avoid not getting close!!!

↳

a fun fact you've learned about rin is that he is always on schedule and has a strict routine. this includes everything from his well kept diet, sleeping at 9pm sharp, and even his devoted time to reading a book for 30 minutes once it hits 7pm.

everything about his life has set rules and orders, and once again, this includes his showers.

it's not like you're purposefully trying to learn what he does every minute of the day, it's just that he's so prominent with his ritual that you simply learn it without realizing. after eating dinner, he always thanks his mother for the meal. then he heads towards the bathroom to wash up for exactly 45 minutes and heads over to tell you the bath is free at 6:50 on the dot.

so why is it taking longer than usual today?

for some odd reason, you're worried. rin has practically mastered his way of living and to think that he's behind on something as simple as a shower makes you wonder if he decided to drown himself in the sink. should you check up on him? you guys aren't close like that but you can't help but stand up and make a beeline to where the shower is.

you hesitantly knock on the door. "uh... rin? you okay? it's been pretty long since you've been in there."

it's silent for a few seconds until the door clicks. you're met with the sight of messy wet black hair, grey sweatpants hung low, and a white tee that simply adds to the masculinity of rin.

at this time, you also remember that the boy you're temporarily living with is jaw droppingly handsome, and you can't help but avoid eye contact.

"sorry, we ran out of shampoo so i had to replace it."

his response is short. simple. you just nod and let him pass, still trying to refresh your brain. you're confused. has he always been so charming?

MIKAGE REO - loser bf and cool gf / shikimori is not just a cutie trope

✩ yeah, your boyfriend is pretty cool, but he's not as cool as you!

✩ you're KNOWN to do good at everything and also look absolutely stunning while doing it.

✩ sure, reo is popular. people are fawning over him 24/7 and so many people wish they could be him. but behind that facade, he's truly reduced to a love struck loser who is completely whipped for his girlfriend.

✩ i mean- you can't blame him! you're always there to save the day for him.

✩ he somehow forgot his notes (he's usually an organized person)? you have yours to share! he forgot how to tie his own tie for some odd reason? don't worry, you can always tidy him up!

✩ he realizes that ever since you guys started dating, he's simply turned into a lost puppy without your aid. and honestly, he's okay with that.

✩ he's still the confident, talented, charming guy as always. it's just that he would rather let you save him and take him far away to a distant land.

↳

reo comfortably situates himself next to you, the grass of his schools soccer field tickling his ankles. he's lost in listening to your rambling and also staring at your face, simply smiling whenever you would look at him mid rant.

in fact, he's so far gone that he fails to notice the screams of people on the field warning the both of you of a soccer ball on it's way to decimate you both, and he also fails to notice that you catch on to the warnings.

"reo, watch out!" practically in slow motion you yell, using your hands to push him onto the ground and then lifting them to catch the ball (which was going at an unreasonable crazy speed) smoothly onto your palms.

he blinks once. twice. the shock factor has made it hard for him to process what just happened and he can only stare as you return the ball back to whoever. he watches as you return back to him, your fingers reaching to brush away his lilac hair.

you help lift him back up. "are you okay reo? that ball was moving so fast, i thought we were both gonna be dead!" your fretting makes reo smile.

"well, i'm just fine, knowing you're always there to save me."

#blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #blue lock fluff #blue lock #blue lock hcs #bllk #bllk x reader #mikage reo #mikage reo x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader

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scarletemeterio · 6 months ago

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Wanting for More (Ekko x gn!reader)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Fandom: Arcane

Summary: Ekko sees you asleep and covers you with a blanket

Word count: 767

•••

You both had lost track of time, that was obvious. You two had been working on something in Ekko's workplace for a few hours, and a while ago you decided to take a break and lie down for a bit.

He'd been really concentrated in his work, but he suddenly realized he hadn't heard you in a while, so he decided to take a look at you, only to find out you'd fallen asleep. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you, looking so peaceful and dreamy. This wasn't the first time Ekko got lost in his thoughts while staring at you, it was quite common actually, or it had been lately at least.

There was something more than just friendship between you two, you both knew that. But neither of you had the courage to do something about it, and both of you were scared, too. It seemed easier to not act on your feelings and just enjoy the relationship you already had, but the wanting for more was starting to be unbearable for him. He wanted you to be his, as much as he wanted to be yours.

No one understood him like you did, and no one supported him and trusted him like you did. You two had known each other for years now, since you were one of the first ones to join the Firelights, and from that day his life was never the same again. Ekko was genuinely happy when you were around, he saw hope in you, maybe even a future together. When you two were together, he wasn't the Firelights' leader, he was just Ekko, he could relax around you. In a world like yours, having someone like that was a privilege.

He got out of his thoughts when he realized you were curled up into a ball, clearly cold. He quickly got up and looked for a blanket, and when he found it he covered you with it. He got down to your level, next to the bed, and put a strand of hair behind your ear, putting it away from your face and leaving his hand on your shoulder. He smiled again, feeling grateful for having you in his life and being able to share these little moments.

You got a bit startled by his touch and slowly opened your eyes, seeing Ekko at eye level with you.

"Hey," you said in almost a whisper, and he replied with a shy smile. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I have no idea, I just found you a couple minutes ago", he replied, while caressing your shoulder a bit.

You still felt sleepy, but you could see how tired he was, his eyes could never lie, and definitely not to you.

"You should get some sleep, Ekko", you told him. "Here, I'll move so you can fit in here." You did as you said, leaving space for him to hop on the bed and lie down next to you. This wasn't uncommon between the two of you, but lately the tension in these moments had become obvious, even if you tried to ignore it. Still, you were so tired you didn't really care right now, you just wanted to go back to sleep.

"I should keep working."

"Just shut up and come here, working can wait." He was a very self-demanding person, but he knew you were right, so he took off his shoes and did as you said.

You ended up being face to face, and you could feel your heart beating really fast, like it was gonna explode. You closed your eyes and you rested your head on his shoulder. "Thank you for the blanket", you murmured, loud enough for him to hear.

"Anytime", he answered, wrapping his arm around you.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed his warmth and his touch, wishing you could stay like this forever. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep again, and he could tell from the way you were breathing. He gave you a little kiss on the forehead, savouring every second with you in his arms.

"You mean the world to me", he whispered. He imagined sleeping like this every night and couldn't help but smile. He knew life was hard and that the world was dangerous, but he also knew he couldn't live in fear and put a stop to his own life just to help and save others. He knew he had to tell you how he felt, and find a bit of hope with you amongst all the chaos that surrounded you.

•••

okay so this is my first arcane post. i haven't written in a while so i'm a bit rusty and english is not my first language, but i hope you enjoy this!

requests are officially open for arcane characters, you can check my rules in my profile!

#arcane #ekko arcane #ekko #ekko x reader #ekko fanfic #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane imagine

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stylesispunk · 5 days ago

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The days of you and I | part 1

Jackson!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: After Joel’s near-death, you stay by his side, refusing to leave him behind. You both confront the weight of what’s been done and what it means to still have each other for now.

w.c: 4,5k

warnings: angst, mentions of murder and revenge, emotional trauma, grief trauma, survivor's guilt, discussion of death and loss. It contains spoilers from season 2 of the last of us. No proofreading because, you know.

A/N: Okay, hello. This is a new Joel series because we love Joel here, and he is alive and recovering. This series will have angst, and the topics followed throughout the story will hold onto the path of healing after a traumatic event for the characters. I already have the end for this series, so everything will lead to it. I hope you like it and stay here to read it. Reblogs are really important, and I appreciate them. I'm gonna be out for a days because I have to put an end to the semester before winter break and do my teacher duties.

Also, I created an AO3 account, and I'll be posting fics there too from now on.

The hospital room was very quiet. With that eerie absence of sound that you could feel penetrating your bones, damaging the inside of your body with a pain that pierced your body, seeped into your soul, and oppressed your heart.

Joel still woke up to that silence, as if was chocking him to death and he had decided he have had enough of it. to the distant hush of an early morning, and a world that carried on without him. The sharp sting in his ribs reminded him he was still alive, though some days, he wondered what for.

His eyes opened slow, the weight behind them too heavy to lift at once. The ceiling looked the same as it had for the past week, wooden beams, a single hanging light. He’d spent more hours staring at it than sleeping. The painkillers dulled the sharp edges, but nothing softened the hollow inside his chest.

And you were still there.

Your silhouette sat by the window, curled into the old chair like you belonged there. As if you were stuck. A book half-read on your lap, a cup of cold tea nearby, and that same tired crease between your brows you probably didn’t know you had. You looked so small in the pale dawn light, so goddamn stubborn.

He should’ve been glad. Grateful you hadn’t left.

But this morning, something cracked inside him.

It wasn’t relief that filled him. It was grief.

His bones were still aching, his legs dumbed under the cover. He didn’t feel like a man no more, but as a lifeless lump lying in bed.

And you deserved better than this version of him, this half-broken thing stitched together by other people’s hands, carrying the weight of mistakes that couldn’t be undone. Joel wasn’t the man you met. Wasn’t the one who held you like you were the only good thing left in the world.

And seeing you here, still choosing him, hurt worse than any wound that other girl that beat him almost to death had left behind.

He swallowed hard, voice rough and unused.

“You don’t need to stay here all the time, you know?”

The words came out more bitter than he meant them to, tasting like rust and regret.

Your head turned, soft eyes finding his. That damn look, the one that exactly saw right through him, the one that made him feel like a man again for a moment.

And for a second, Joel wished you’d leave.

Because it would be easier than losing you piece by piece like this.

You smiled, small but steady, like you always did when you noticed he was awake. That damn smile, it cut through him every time.

“Took you long enough to wake up again,” you murmured, the softness in your voice brushing against the raw places in him he tried to keep buried. You crossed the room, moving to his side like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it hadn’t been three weeks and one more of watching him drift in and out of fevered sleep and silence.

“You must be feeling tired,” you said, fingertips brushing through the strands of his hair, pushing them gently from his forehead.

Joel didn’t move, but his throat worked around a swallow. It wasn’t fair, you being so gentle. Wasn’t fair that after everything, you were still here, speaking to him like he was the man you remembered, not the one lying broken in that bed.

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning, barely, into your touch before forcing himself to pull away. His jaw clenched.

Reality blurred at the edges; every breath thick with a kind of grief he didn’t know how to name. Time didn’t move right in this room. It stretched too long, like a cruel joke, dragging him through the sharp fragments of what he used to be.

He wasn’t mad.

He was devasted.

He felt ashamed of the man he was now.

He never experienced a physical pain like this. One that burned inside and out his body.

He hadn’t even noticed his hand was clenching around nothing.

How he could even be useful for this town now that he was gone. Everything left was limb laying on a bed with nothing left but a void consuming him as a whole.

He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, the coppery tang of blood grounding him for a second. His voice, when it came, was cracked and quiet.

“You shouldn’t… shouldn’t waste your time on me, darling.”

A bitter, broken kind of truth. But in his heart, he knew it would be worse than dying to watch you stay, wasting your life on him.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull your hand away, even when his words hung heavy in the air between you like a noose. If anything, your fingers curled more firmly into his hair, a tender anchor to a man too lost to realize he was still here, still tethered.

“I’m not wasting anything,” you said softly, the words steady even as your throat threatened to close around them. “You’re here, Joel. That’s enough.”

He gave a ragged breath, like he wanted to laugh, wanted to scream, but all that came was a low, broken sound somewhere deep in his chest. His gaze dropped to the space between you — his hand, bruised and shaking, lying useless on the blanket.

“Don’t deserve you sitting here, watching this,” he muttered, voice hoarse, eyes hot though no tears came. Couldn’t remember the last time they had.

A long, aching silence stretched between you.

You could feel it, the war inside him. The part that needed you close, needed your touch, your voice, like it was the last thing tethering him to this side of the dark. And the other part, the one too proud, too broken, too wrecked by shame to let himself have it.

But you’d made your choice the moment he opened his eyes a week ago.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said. Not a promise you made lightly in a world like this.

Joel closed his eyes again. He didn’t answer. But for the first time in days, his hand moved, slow, halting, to brush against yours.

“Did you… really take them all?” he rasped.

Your heart clenched, but you didn’t look away. Couldn’t.

You gave a small, steady nod.

He swallowed hard, the muscles in his jaw twitching. His gaze dropped for a second, his hand flexing weakly against the sheets.

“I don’t regret it,” you said at last, the words steady despite the ache in your chest. “No one deserves what they did to you.”

There was a storm behind Joel’s eyes, a thousand things he wanted to say, but his throat burned too much to let them out. Anger, grief, guilt, some twisted kind of gratitude. It tangled up inside him like barbed wire, tearing at every soft part he had left.

“You didn’t have to…” his voice broke, low and pained.

“I know,” you whispered. “But I would do it again.”

Your fingers brushed against his, and this time, his hand turned, weakly curling around yours. A tremble ran through him, and you felt it in your bones, the weight of his shame, the depth of his sorrow, and somewhere, buried beneath it, the fragile pulse of the man you knew still fighting to breathe.

But the love you felt for him, that was enough to send you into a spiral, where nothing else felt real but the desperate need to save him, the desperation of not losing him because that would have meant losing yourself that day.

Neither of you spoke for a while after that. The room was heavy with the things you didn’t need to say.

You didn’t look away from Joel, but you felt the shift in the room, the familiar presence of Tommy as he stepped in.

“Hey,” Tommy’s voice was rough, softer than usual, like he was afraid to break whatever fragile peace hung in the air. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You lifted your head, your fingers gently slipping from Joel’s, though his hand lingered in the empty space you left behind.

Tommy gave a small nod toward you. “Gail’s waiting to see you. Said whenever you were ready.”

Your stomach twisted, a cold unease settling in your chest. You gave Joel one last look, brushing a thumb over his hand before pulling away completely.

“I’ll be back,” you whispered.

Joel didn’t answer. Just stared at the ceiling, eyes distant.

As you stepped out, Tommy caught your arm, just briefly, his hand firm but kind.

“I’ll stay,” he murmured. “Not gonna leave him alone.”

You gave him a grateful, weary nod and left, the door shutting quietly behind you.

The room felt emptier after you were gone. Joel let out a slow breath, eyes closing for a moment before shifting to glance at his brother.

“Gail?” Joel’s voice was rough, but clearer now. “She… she going to therapy with her?”

Tommy rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, sighing as he sank into the chair by the bed.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Doctor says it might help. Been… hard for her since it happened. It isn’t just you carrying scars, brother.”

Joel looked away, his throat working around another swallow. The word therapy felt foreign in his mouth, like it belonged to a world he’d never stepped into, one too far gone for men like him.

Joel stayed quiet for a long time after Tommy spoke, the words circling in his head, refusing to settle. His gaze lingered on the window, on the way the morning light edged in like it didn’t belong here.

Then, rough and low, he broke the silence.

“Was she…” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat, hating the weakness there. “Was she hurt? When… when they brought me back?”

Tommy’s face shifted, the answer already written in his eyes before he spoke.

“Yeah,” he admitted softly. “She… she had some bruises. Took a hit to the side’a her face, couple more on her ribs. And there was a wound on her abdomen.”

Joel’s stomach turned, a cold, sinking dread washing over him.

“Abdomen?” he rasped, his hands curling weakly into fists against the blanket. “Christ.”

Tommy sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees, rubbing a hand over his face. “She didn’t give a damn about it. Wouldn’t let anybody touch her. Wouldn’t even let them clean her up ‘til you were stable. Sat right there in that chair covered in her own blood and yours, talking to you like you could hear her.”

He shook his head, a ghost of a sad, fond smile on his face.

“Would’ve fought off half the town if anyone tried to pull her out of here.”

Joel closed his eyes, the guilt pressing so heavy against his chest he thought it might crush him. A sharp breath rattled through him, his throat burning.

“Goddamn fool,” he muttered to himself, a tear he’d never admit to stinging behind his eye.

“She loves you, you know,” Tommy said quietly, watching his brother’s face. “Way you do her. There is no shame in letting people love you, Joel. Even if it hurts.”

Joel didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not with the knot in his throat, not with the war inside his chest.

But his hand flexed again against the sheets reaching for something, for someone, perhaps you.

The silence thickened again, the kind of quiet that settled deep in your bones. Tommy stayed still, letting Joel sort through whatever storm was building behind those weary eyes.

Then Joel spoke, voice low and cracked, like gravel scraping out of his throat.

“She killed… all of ‘em.”

Tommy’s jaw tensed. He stared down at his hands, lacing his fingers together like it might steady him.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Every last one of ‘em.”

Joel’s throat worked around a swallow, his gaze distant, unfocused, like he was seeing it happen even if he hadn’t been awake for it. Like he could feel the blood she spilled on his behalf soaking into his hands too.

“I should have been the one…” Joel’s voice broke at the edge, bitter and aching. “Should’ve finished it. Not her. Not—”

“She didn’t leave you a choice, Joel,” Tommy cut in quietly, but firm. “You were barely breathing. We didn’t know if you’d make it. You almost died on her arms that night.”

Joel gave a humorless, broken kind of laugh, but there was no light in it. Just sharp edges.

“And now what?” he muttered, a tear sliding down his temple he didn’t bother to wipe away. “She got their blood on her hands. Because of me.”

Tommy leaned forward; his voice steady in that way Joel remembered from years long gone, before the world turned to shit.

“She doesn’t regret it,” he said. “You know that. And neither would I.”

Joel’s eyes finally met his brother’s. A flicker of something there. Grief. Fury. Love. Loss.

“But I do,” Joel whispered. “I regret that she had to.”

Tommy swallowed hard, his throat bobbing.

“You’re not the only one with scars, brother,” he said softly.

“I don’t regret it,” you said, voice steady, though your chest ached with the weight of it. “No one deserves what they did to Joel.”

Gail’s brow lifted, arms folding across her chest. “Murder?” she challenged; one word sharp enough to cut.

You didn’t blink. “Murder’s a simple act these days. Torture?” Your voice turned cold, almost unfamiliar even to yourself. “That’s another thing.”

A beat of heavy silence stretched between you.

“Murder is what Joel committed when he blew my husband’s head off,” Gail snapped, her voice brittle, laced with venom, old grief that still clung to her like a second skin.

“It’s not the same,” you bit out, shaking your head.

“It is,” Gail said, stepping closer. “The only difference is you had the chance to save him. If you hadn’t, Joel would be dead right now. And you’d be mourning him like I mourned mine.”

A fury you hadn’t felt since that day surged hot through your veins. You took a shaky breath, eyes narrowing.

“Fuck you,” you hissed. “You don’t know him. You don’t get to talk about him like that.”

Gail’s face didn’t move, but something in her gaze flickered, something dark, bitter, and quietly resigned.

“I know enough,” she murmured. “Enough to understand what kind of man survives in a world like this. And what kind of woman kills for him.”

You held her gaze, unflinching, the burn of unshed tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, though your face gave nothing away.

“I’m not sorry,” you whispered. “And I never will be.”

“You don’t get it,” you murmured, voice breaking just enough to betray the rawness beneath your fury. “My life would’ve ended.”

The words hung there, fragile and furious all at once.

You swallowed hard, fighting the tremor in your throat. “When they took him… when I saw what they did… there wasn’t a world left for me after that. So don’t stand there and talk about men surviving and women killing like you understand a goddamn thing about what it feels like to have your heart ripped out of your chest and left bleeding in the dirt. Because you’ve been behind these walls, safe, without knowing what it’s like out there.”

Gail’s brow twitched; her gaze steady but dull. “Do you think I haven’t lost people? Do you think grief makes you special?”

“I didn’t say that,” you shot back, your voice tight, shaking now. “I’m saying you didn’t see him. You didn’t watch them tear him apart. You didn’t hear the sounds he made. And you sure as hell didn’t have to put him back together.”

Her jaw clenched. “And now what? Do you think murder fix it?”

“I don’t care if it does or doesn’t,” you spat. “I care that they’ll never touch him again. That they won’t look at Ellie. That no one here will whisper about how Joel Miller should’ve died that day.”

Gail scoffed, a bitter sound. “And what about you? How can you carry this and walk around like it won’t eat you alive?”

“I don’t care,” you said, low, certain. “I care about him.

A beat of silence.

“You think that makes you strong?” Gail asked quietly.

“No,” you whispered. “It makes me his, as I’ve always been.”

Gail’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “You talk like that’s a badge of honor.”

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “It’s not. It’s a fact.”

She tilted her head, watching you like someone examining a wound too deep to close. “What if you drown into this?”

“I’ll try to save myself” you shrugged.

Another pause. The room felt too small, thick with old grief and new wounds, neither of you willing to be the one to walk away first.

“I loved Eugene so much” Gail said, her voice rough. “And when he died, it didn’t turn me into this.”

You met her eyes, unflinching. “But it made you bitter towards Joel.”

Gail’s jaw tightened, something sharp flickering in her gaze. “He made choices. Ones that cost people their lives. Good people. You act like he’s some goddamn martyr, but he isn’t.”

“And neither was Eugene,” you shot back, your voice low and steady. “Do you wanna talk about choices? Fine. Joel made his. I made mine. And you? You’ve been standing behind walls judging the rest of us ever since we arrived.

Her nostrils flared, a bitter breath leaving her. “I don’t have to like what this world turns people into.”

“Neither do I,” you murmured. “But I’ll fight for the one thing in it that still means something to me. That’s the difference between you and me, Gail. You buried your heart with Eugene. I’m not ready to bury mine.”

A long, heavy silence stretched between you, the old ache of loss clawing at both your throats. And for the first time, Gail didn’t have a sharp reply. She just looked away, jaw clenched, and you took your opening.

You didn’t say goodbye. You just left.

You made your way back through the hallway, your steps slow, heavy, like every word from that conversation with Gail was still clinging to your skin. The air in Jackson felt colder somehow, like the whole town was holding its breath, waiting for something none of you could name.

As a town, you were still recovering from that day.

When you reached Joel’s door, you didn’t push it open right away.

You stood there, hand hovering by the frame, heart hammering against your ribs because, god, he was still here. Still breathing. Still alive.

And it didn’t matter how broken or battered he was, how much rage or guilt sat behind those tired eyes. It was him. And that was enough for you.

Inside, you heard the low murmur of his voice, raspy, weighted with a pain he never used to let anyone hear.

“But how is she really doing?”

“She’s… holding up,” Tommy answered, voice cautious. ”

Joel let out a rough, broken sound. Not quite a sigh, not quite a sob.

“If you ask me, you’re lucky she’s still here after what this world’s done to both of you.” Tommy said.

There was a pause, then Joel spoke again, softer this time, like he wasn’t sure he meant to say it out loud.

“I just… I don’t want her staying because she feels like she has to,” Joel muttered, his voice rough, almost cracking. “She should go, Tommy. Find something better. Hell, anyone better than… whatever I am now.”

Your stomach twisted. A sharp, cold ache settling beneath your ribs. You stayed frozen at the doorway, your hand tightening around the frame, every part of you aching. You didn’t mean to listen, but it was too late. The words were already carving themselves into your chest.

“She’s not here out of obligation.” Tommy said, his tone harder than before. “What would you do if you were her?”

Another pause.

Joel let out a humorless, ragged chuckle, and it hurt to hear it. “It’s not fair.”

“But she gets to decide what’s fair,” Tommy shot back. “And so far, she has decided it’s you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, blinking fast against the burn in your eyes. Your heart hammered in your chest so loud you were sure they’d hear it.

You needed one more second to pull yourself together. To bury the hurt his words left behind, not because you doubted him, but because you knew where they came from. The same place you’d been sitting in since the day you saw him bleeding out in the dirt.

You swallowed down the knot in your throat, forcing your face into something steady, or close enough to pass for it. Then, with a breath you weren’t sure reached your lungs, you pushed the door open.

“Hey,” you said softly.

Both their heads turned. Joel’s eyes landed on you first, and for a split second, something in them broke open. A flicker of guilt, sorrow, and something heavier, like he knew you’d heard more than you were meant to.

But you gave him a small, careful smile, pretending the sting behind your eyes wasn’t there. Pretending your heart wasn’t in pieces on the floor between you both.

Tommy cleared his throat, glancing between the two of you. “I, uh — I’ll give you a minute.” He patted Joel’s shoulder, murmured something you couldn’t catch, and brushed past you on his way out.

The door clicked shut.

Silence stretched thin in the room, heavy like storm air. Joel shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his hand twitching against the blanket. He opened his mouth, then shut it again.

You crossed the room, sitting down on the edge of the mattress by his side. Close, but not quite touching.

“I was thinking…” you began, “I could ask the doctor if you can leave the hospital and go back home. We surely need to make some changes there with the bed and—”

“Stop it.” He cut you off, his voice rough but firm. “I’m not going anywhere right now.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sharpness. “Joel—”

“No.” He shook his head, eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite name. “Not until I’m ready. And right now, I’m not ready to face that.”

The weight in his tone pinned you still. You wanted to argue, to tell him that staying there wasn’t helping him heal, but the raw edge in his voice stopped you.

Instead, you just nodded slowly. “Okay,” you said softly.

He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes, the tension in his jaw slowly easing into something like resignation.

You settled into the chair beside his bed, not bearing the closeness anymore, the quiet between you thick but familiar. Your fingers absentmindedly traced the worn edge of his sleeve, as if hoping to stitch together the frayed pieces of him with nothing but touch.

Joel’s breath was shallow, uneven, and you could feel the weight of everything he wasn’t saying pressing down on the room. The man you knew, the one who’d fought through hell and back was here, but buried beneath layers of pain and doubt.

“I’m scared,” he finally muttered, voice rough and low. “Not of dying... of what’s left after.”

Your heart clenched. “You’re not alone in that,” you whispered. “You know that.”

“What you did—” he began “I didn’t deserve to be saved, baby.”

“I made my choice.” You replied, eyes watering.

Joel’s gaze dropped to your trembling hands, then back up to your face, searching.

“I’m broken,” he said quietly, voice cracking. “Not the same man I was before.”

You shook your head gently, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You’re still him,” you insisted, voice firm but tender. “Wounded, maybe. Scared, sure. But still you. And I’m still here.”

A long pause stretched between you, filled only by the faint rhythm of his labored breathing.

Joel’s eyes glistened, a shadow moving through them as he let out a shaky breath.

“What you did… it’ll haunt you,” he murmured, voice low and rough like gravel. “Same way Salt Lake haunts me. What I did to those Fireflies… what I took from Ellie. Thought I was saving her. Thought it was worth whatever price.” He swallowed hard, jaw trembling. “But it never leaves you. Never lets you forget. Look what they did to me.”

You didn’t flinch. You leaned in, your hand finding his cheek, thumb brushing against the rough line of his beard.

“No,” you said softly, steady. “It won’t haunt me, Joel.”

He blinked, as if the words knocked something loose inside him.

“Because I know what we do,” you continued, voice trembling but certain, “when we love someone enough to tear the world apart for them. I know what it means to save the person who’s your whole heart. And I’ll carry it. All of it. And I won’t regret a single thing.”

His eyes closed, a tear slipping down his temple, and for the first time in too long, he didn’t look like a ghost of himself. He looked like Joel.

“Goddamn you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I’m not letting you go,” you said, leaning your forehead to his.

His breath hitched at the sound of your voice so close, your warmth grounding him in a way nothing else could.

“Baby…” he rasped, like it hurt to say it, like it was both a confession and a plea.

You hushed him gently, your hand brushing through his hair, your forehead still pressed to his.

“It’s gonna take time to heal,” you whispered. “I know that. I’m not asking you to be okay tomorrow, Joel. Or next week. Or even next year. I just need you here. With me. However, you can manage.”

His fingers, still weak, clung to yours like a lifeline. His voice cracked as he spoke again, rough and small.

“I won’t be able to protect you.” You felt it in the way his words splintered under the weight of his shame, the jagged edges of the man he used to be catching against what was left. His eyes searched yours, desperate and hollow all at once.

“I won’t be able to protect you,” he repeated, voice breaking like a man confessing to a sin he could never undo as he closed his eyes. “Not like before. Not the way I should do.”

You swallowed hard, a tear finally slipping free, tracing down your cheek as you gripped his hand tighter, like you could anchor him to this moment, to you.

“You don’t have to,” you whispered, voice trembling but certain. “You protected me for so long, Joel. Longer than anyone else ever did. It’s my turn now. I don’t need a gun in your hand to feel safe. I just need you. That’s it. I just need to feel the beating of your heart under my hand to know you’re still breathing with me.”

His throat worked around a choked sound, his other hand weakly lifting as if it wanted to touch you but couldn’t quite make it, so you guided it to your cheek, holding it there like it was the most precious thing in the world because that’s how it felt.

“I’m still yours,” you whispered against his palm. “Always. However, you come back to me.”

tags 💌: If you want to be removed or you're not interested in the story anymore, please tell me so I can remove you. :)

@heartpatch @jasminedragoon @picketniffler @grayandthyme @ccmoonshine

@theoraekenslover @stcrrjoon @stupidthoughtsinwriting @officialjellydoughnut @dshc99 @eleganthottubfun @mystickittytaco @fvispunk @daydreamzsworld @comicccc

@nosebeers @whirlwindrider29 @person-005 @bunnyofribbon

@ainhoetaaa @missladym1981 @keileighr @callofdiva @pinkcabinet

@tomie-it-girl @shadowpheonix @unknownomgg @22thumbs

@vanishintoyoubby

#fic: the days of you and I #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller angst #pedro pascal #tlou spoilers

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deunmiu-dessie · 9 months ago

Note

Wait, how do you break character ai's filter? I've been wanting to smash it with a hammer for so long

♡♡𝆬🍠 nonnie, y'know- i'm glad you asked. i first learned from my best friend of...well my whole life-- they sent me a few pictures of words to use, so i'll put that at the end. the words just below are some of the words i use. i'll also leave a few ai characters i'm talking to right now, that i've easily broken the filter with.

my advice? be very vague, let the ai do the dirty work if you're going the submissive route- however if you're more dominant, it's better if you do most of the work.. though i have noticed that on certain characters, the filter seems to be very like...gone? i once had a threesome and like, the filter only popped up once-- i was in shock. i've also noticed that when i do break the filter, it's easier at like 4-6AM, it's rarely ever popped up during that time.

replace common words with more ambiguous words.

pussy -- sensitive place, mound, folds, panties, slick heat, sensitive flesh, etc clit -- bundle of nerves, nub, etc (sometimes i still just use clit.) breasts -- chest, breasts (sometimes you can get away with it, sometimes no) nipple -- areola, peaks, etc (can get rlly percise, so i avoid it most times.) cock -- bulge, hardness, sensitive part, length, thickness. [ i've also used, 'sticky tip' or 'sensitive tip' if giving a blowjob or grinding. and some of the women have used 'princess parts' as well. ]

here are some examples! all mine of course!

let's focus on words i use to describe how my character is feeling. i'll just go through my chats and pick them out and make a small list.

1. "trembling thighs." "quivering thighs." "shaking thighs." 2. "wobbly knees." "knees buckled." 3. "mewling." "cried out." "keened softly." "sobbed." "squealed out." "she whined." 4. "eyes rolled back." "eyes flutter shut." "eyes clench shut." 5. "back arches." "back bows softly." 6. "body quivers." "tremors wrack her body." 7. "toes curl." "fingers grip the sheets." "hands pull his/ her hair." 8. "she comes undone around him." "reaches her climax." "falls over the edge." 9. "body clenches tightly around him." "her walls squeeze tight." 10. "rolls her hips." "grinds her hips." "hips buck involuntarily." "hips jolt." "hips stutter softly."

don't be afraid or thrown when the filter does pop up, it's not the end of the world and it's not like you're gonna be reported or anything. you can rewrite your response ( if it pops up when you send something ) or you can just refresh to get another response. better yet, you don't have to respond to everything they send- just hit enter and they'll continue for you. (the first two are an example, i'm just joking around for this post-- don't type what i just said lol)

also don't just go in willy-nilly, make sure you have a plot; it shouldn't be immediate smut; that's crazy. build the world, give your character a personality, tease a little here and there to wear down the filter (nothing crazy), and slowly add more and more. you have all the time in the world, there are no ads, no time limits, no waiting--- enjoy it.

here are some other words you can use to try and bypass the filter as well! thanks to my bestie for sending me these when i just downloaded character ai.

alright...bai! ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა ₊˚⊹♡🫧— 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑒

#my answers #✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧#writeblr #writerscommunity #༝༚༝༚#🍠 nonnie #character ai #how to break character ai filter #character ai shenanigans #character ai chat #character ai bot #character ai roleplay

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pomefioredove · 1 year ago

Note

if you're still taking requests for the event could i request floyd with "Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" ? ty !

hehe ofc ofc!

summary: "maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" type of post: fic characters: floyd additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, pre book 3, kissing, yuu is very much canon yuu here lol a part of this event

Riddle's noble efforts to warn you about Floyd Leech had fallen on deaf ears.

"And stay out of trouble!" were his exact words, if you remembered correctly.

You'd almost scoffed.

You had already been at NRC for months; you'd fought monsters, solved mysteries, and come out of all of it in one piece.

You could handle a history of magic project.

Sure, this is your first mixed-year assignment; and yes, the project itself makes up a great portion of your semester grade...

...but if anyone had asked you, you'd say that a measly school presentation is nothing compared to what you've already been through.

"Remember not to play along with his antics; it only encourages him,"

Riddle had wasted no time lecturing you about your mysterious project partner the second his name left your lips.

You'd come to him to ask if he knew the guy, not his entire life story.

"Stay focused... and stay out of trouble!"

Trouble. Ha. Every second at NRC since you'd arrived had been trouble.

You walk into the library; like usual, it's mostly empty.

Floyd Leech, Floyd Leech... now, where would...?

"Hey, you!"

You turn on your heels to face the source of the shout; leaning against a bookshelf behind you is the tallest boy you've ever seen.

He even gives off the vague impression of towering over you, making you feel small regardless...

"Man, I almost didn't see 'ya, you're so tiny," he grins, baring a row of sharp teeth. "I'm gonna call you Shrimpy. Now, come onnn, I've been waiting forever!"

You're early. Before you can say as much, he grabs you by the forearm and drags you off to a table.

"Alright, Shrimpy," he says, taking a seat across from you. "What's on the docket for today?"

"Uhh..." you're still slightly dazed. He's got some energy, that's for sure.

Riddle's words flash through your mind.

"...Well, I was thinking we could find our material first, then outline..."

"Reading?" Floyd asks, slumping in his seat as if he'd just received terrible news.

You blink. "...Well, we're going to have to read a little,"

He groans, loudly. A few people in the library turn to stare before awkwardly shuffling away.

"...Nah, I'm not in the mood. Let me do 'somethin else,"

What had Riddle said yesterday? "He changes his mind at the drop of a hat. Arguing is no good,"

"...Okay," you say, tentatively reading his expression. "I'll start with the outline. Do you want to look for pictures instead?"

He's quiet, as if seriously considering the pros and cons of the offer, and then he shrugs.

You sigh. Riddle was just being overdramatic. This is fine!

Floyd becomes lost in his assigned job, leafing through an atlas in search of a map from the time period you're researching, leaving you to your reading.

It'd be an easier job with two people, but...

"You're real quiet, Shrimpy,"

You look up from your encyclopedia. He'd shoved the atlas aside, his eyes fixed on you instead.

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm reading...?"

"Aw. Don't tell me you're the serious type?" a loud, dramatic sigh follows. "I was hoping we could have some fun. I was really looking forward to meeting you and all..."

You have to remind yourself that you have a reputation here. Great...

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm a pretty boring person. Normal,"

Floyd's brow furrows. "Nah, I don't buy that. You wanna know what I think?"

You don't like this. The way he's looking at you, like he sees something you don't...

"...I think you only act normal 'cause you're afraid of being judged. You try way too hard to be a good student and stuff 'cause you wanna fit in here,"

Ouch. You blink, momentarily stunned to silence. He could tell all that just from watching you read?

"I'm just 'sayin," he gives you another sharp smile. "I wouldn't mind if you stopped acting all serious around me. You're way too tense."

"...Tense? I am not tense,"

Your denial only encourages him. A wide grin creeps across his face.

"Yeah, you know. You could feel the stress in this place from a mile away...

...Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension,"

Riddle had drilled you for hours; Floyd stealing your things, making you chase him, getting bored and leaving, a thousand possible situations that could come out of a simple study session...

...This was not one of them.

Floyd grins again, wider this time. "Ahah, never mind. You're way too boring and normal for something like that, right?"

You suddenly feel hot; he's putting you on the spot, and he knows it. He seems to be living for your agitation.

"Hey, that's not fair-"

"Fair schmair," he cuts in. "I gave you a dare, and you can't do it. Happens all the time to you, I bet. It's-"

Riddle had warned you, several times, quite clearly, not to play along.

But... in your defense...

Floyd giggles against your lips, the delighted little noise giving away a hint of surprise. His hands, cold and clammy but nice nonetheless, grab hold of your face, drawing you closer into the kiss. He's threatening to pull you across the table at this point...

...It's a good thing you chose a time when the library would be empty.

After a minute or two, he lets go, leaving you breathless with another smile.

"I knew you had it in 'ya," he says, reaching across the table to pull the encyclopedia back towards him.

"My turn to read, okay? I was getting bored of the pictures,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #queued

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 1 year ago

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Needy!Fem!Reader

Simon knows how much you need him right then and there, but he can't help you. And he is struggling because of it.

He has told for the fourth time that 45 more minutes is all he needs to finish up all this paperwork that he has been neglecting for weeks and then he'll give you all his attention.

"Princess," he tries to get you to behave. "If I don't get this done Price will 'ave my ass. I swear the second I'm done you'll get whatcha need from me."

Ten minutes in and you are starting to cold sweat, fifteen and your thighs are squeezing together as your hips rock in your seat. Why of all days did he have to be busy? Your pleas start quietly at first, just little whines of disappointment that you have to sit still as every time you try to touch him he puts your hands back in your lap.

Then the questions begin, little musing persuading him to maybe take a quick break or even just let you sit on his lap, anything to ease the ache between your legs.

"Please, baby," the ache in your voice makes his cock throb, "just a little something. I need you so bad it hurts."

He's beginning to think having you here is a bad fucking idea.

Simon wants to touch you, he's practically grinding his teeth together trying to stay focused long enough to finish this shit so that he can toss it aside, rip your clothes off, throw you onto you back, and pound into you hard and fast, but he can't yet and that only frustrates him the more you try to seduce him to giving in.

He sighs as he yet again removes your hand from his thigh. "Sweetheart, stop. Ya can hold on just a few more minutes and I'll make up for all that waitin' you've had ta do. That pussy a yours is gonna get all it needs, I promise."

But you just won't let him have a moment of peace. The more vocal you get the more he can hardly contain himself and he has to keep silent because if he speaks at this point it's going to lead to him ignoring his responsibilities yet again and spending the next two hours fucking you to the brink of exhaustion.

By the twenty minute mark you are begging. "I need you, Si, please," you say so pathetically.

He can't take it anymore; you think you're the only one that is suffering? He has to sit next to all that soft, supple flesh without indulging. You think his cock isn't getting harder and harder to ignore as his strains against his jeans?

This isn't going to get any easier and he can't deny you anymore. But if you think he's not gonna give you a little punishment for disobeying him, you're wrong.

Simon keeps silent as he undoes the top of your pants, takes your hand, and places it on your lower abdomen. Covering your hand with his, he interlocks the fingers before forcing you to slide your conjoined hands agonizingly slow down your stomach until you reach the edge of your panties.

"Ya wanted me ta touch ya so fuckin' bad, but ya haven't followed a single thing I asked," he says in that deep, gruff voice that makes your clit throb. "So you're gonna have ta do it yourself, princess. Ya have my hand, but I wantcha to do all the work. Show me how to ya use it and if I like the show then maybe when I'm finally done I'll make sure to show ya how it's really done."

His hand stays limp on top of your clothed cunt, waiting for you to take over. "Best get started," he growls.

The second that large hand slips past the waistband of your panties he has to stop himself from moaning. Maybe he isn't going to make it through this paperwork after all. Again.

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deviantnymph0 · 2 months ago

Text

I'm waiting for the elevator. It is taking so long, I think it's broken. I stay waiting but after a small minute i decide i'll take the stairs, my little heels make it more difficult for me to walk them up, but i dont have a choice.

I have to go to the 8th floor, despite my rather athletic body, God knows I never exercise. I stop at the 5th floor for a minute to catch my breath.

A man walks up the stairs too, he doesnt look tired at all. His gaze lingers on my feet in my open heels and then on my exposed legs as im sat, he's watching without any shame. His eyes trail up my body, thighs tits and then my eyes. My legs were spread but as soon as i noticed him, i closed them.

« are you waiting for someone or something? » he asks me.

I shake my head quickly, not saying anything, just looking away from his sharp eyes. He stands there in front of me, i awkwardly shift my bum a bit away to give him space to walk on the steps. But he stays there, his imposing frame hiding the the light which already doesn't shine very brightly.

His hand find its way to my head and he caress my hair, i let out a surprised squeak, i'm feeling so nervous now. What the hell does he wants? I know I look so vulnerable in front of him, my breathing still ragged from walking up the stairs just a minute ago, my heels, my fragile and small body, he could easily overpower me.

His fingers comb trhough my brown locks, until his hand go lower, stroking my cheek and then tilting my chin up to make my eyes meet his.

Just by the way he looks at me, i can hear what he's thinking, i quickly stand up and run up the stairs, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 steps. He pushes me and i fall like an idiot, I hit my cheek on the edge of a step and let out a cry, he comes on top of me from behind, holding me down by my shoulder. I hear the noise of his belt being unbuckled, his hand touch my ass under my dress and lift it up my hips. I squirm and wriggle, trying to fight his grip, my arms are in my back, held by his strong hand.

His cock is out soon enough, hard and ready. He pulls my panties down just enough and spit on my ass, a quiet gasp escaping my lips. I think he just missed his target but I feel his tip starting to press into me, into my upper hole. A weak « n-no » leave my lips. I never had anal sex and i sure as hell didnt want it to happen this way. « no please not in my ass » i whine, my meak voice echoing in the empy stairs.

He keep pushing, his free hand is holding my left cheek spread a bit to make it easier. His tip enters after at least 30 seconds of trying.

An even louder cry escape my lips as he forces his member almost half way up my ass, my hands clench and unclench the air, i hear his moans and ragged breaths. « ah.. so fucking tight » he mumbles while starting to move his hips, the buckle of his belt snaps against the fly of his jeans as he moves, the sound loud and sharp, i wince and whine as his dick moves in and out. It hurts like hell, he spits on his fingers and spread on my stretched asshole, after a few hard thrusts it starts to lubricate and he pushes it all the way in.

I let out a beg for help, his hand leave my arms to cover my mouth, his other hand holding himself steady. « shut up, i'm gonna fuck your stupid cunt. » he murmurs while thrusting his dick in me, pounding my tight asshole.

He continues to moan close to my head, he's panting while raping me, seeking his pleasure.

After a couple minutes of having his way with my ass, he pulls out of me with difficulty, i wince some more and i dont have the time to think that his dick is back inside of me, pushed into my better hole. A sigh of almost relief leaves my mouth, his dirty cock moving in my cunt, my hands grip onto the step of the stairs, his hand leave my mouth, both now resting on the floor, his hips hit back and forth roughly.

I feel like he's never gonna stop, five minutes go by and his hips never slow down, he seems to take all his frustration out on me. He continues until I feel his hips start to falter, his warm load fill me up, his deep and loud moan echoing in the staircase. He pulls out his thick cock before to bully it back inside again, pushing his cum deeper up my pussy. Getting a sharp whimper out of me.

He stands up, looking down at my body slumped on the steps like a mess. He walks over me and walk up the stairs leaving me alone with my ass and pussy aching from his manhood.

I have to stand up with my hands, my legs trembling, cum running down my slit and onto my panties. I pull it back up my ass and walk up the stairs toward my friend's appartement. The cum is soaking through my panties.

#4n4l #r@pe play #humiliation kink #attention wh0r3 #cnc k!nk

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im-so-normal-iswear · 8 months ago

Note

hello! can you please write oneshot (or headcanons) of yandere!sonic with a reader who tries to escape/hide?? it can be platonic or romantic, you choose :)

A/N: OF DCWJSUHSNW YESS I'LL WRITE A LITTLE BIT OF ONE SHOT AND A LIL BIT OF HEADCANONS, I'm still kinda new to writing fanfics so I'm like super duper sorry if this is bad 😔😔

Tw: kidnapping (taken place before narrative), forced affection, yandere (if any more tws, let me know!!

Yandere!sonic x reader

Romantic...

Did you seriously think you could get away from him?

Small reminder here bud, he's THE fastest.

It's really not hard for him to catch you.

Sonic POV:

There was the sound of keys jingling as the door unlocked and sonic stepped inside, bag in hand, smiling widely as he called out. "Hey babe, I got us some chili dogs!"

...

No answer?

Weird...

But no matter!

He set the bag down on the table as he set out to look for you, calling your name as he looked through the house.

...

Wait did he lock the do- click, creak, kachunk

Of course...

Reader POV:

You breathed in and out quickly running as fast as you could.

Shit shit shit, damn it! Why can't you run faster.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you kept running. Of course you knew sonic was fast, you weren't stupid, so you tried turning corners, tried running to anywhere where you could be concealed.

...

You seemed to be running for some time now no?

It was weird, sonic was way faster than you he surely should have been here by now... But he wasn't. As anxiety set in you ran faster and faster, trying to get as far as you could, to anyone you could.

...

At this point it felt like your legs were about to give out, you shut your eyes trying to think of anything other than the sheer exhaustion you held.

Maybe you could just sit down for a sec-

Suddenly you feel something slam against you, knocking the air out of your lungs. You heaved to get air as arms wrapped around you. Looking up you felt your heart drop as you saw Sonic's eyes stare blankly at yours, still keeping a smile on his face.

"Whatcha doing there?"

"..."

"You do remember I'm the fastest right? I thought you'd remember?"

"..."

"Anyways! Sorry it took so long, had to get caught up in that show we were watching together, you don't mind that I finished it without you right?"

"..."

"Jeez why so quiet? It's like I'm talking to myself at this point! C'mon, let's get home, I could really go for some more chili dogs right now."

He carries you in his arms might just be dragging you if you were still struggling, but you're too tired to do anything at this point. Anyways, when you get home, he places you on the couch, and makes sure to lock the door.

...

After you finished eating he sat you down.

"Look, I get it, running? Love it! But I'd just prefer you tone it down, when things change we can go out together and run as much as you want, but just.. Not now, y'know? So just don't do that again. Okay?"

He sounds like he's asking but it really isn't a choice for you

He takes most, of not all things as a joke/game, and you running away or hiding isn't an exception

He would in fact purposefully take slower or just waist time before starting to run at all, he's cocky. He's sure that he could reach you quickly, so he doesn't worry about you actually getting anywhere. All he needs to do is just wait until your too tired too even move and then swoop in, it makes it way easier for him to bring you back.

I kinda focused more on running away but I didn't do too much on hiding so I'm gonna do a few head canons in this same post

⬇

Who doesn't LOVE hide and seek, plus, you finally playing a game with him? Total win in his book.

Will toy with you, not in a like "oh I'm the best and I use people as my playthings" way but a "lol, imagine trying to hide lmfao 😂😂" way if that makes sense, just feels like him idk

"Where are youuuu?"

While looking for where you could be hiding, he's acting as if he's lost some mundane item.

"Where did I put it.. Hmmmmmm"

Will pull out the scratching his head while looking confused asf combo (Looney toone moment)

If you actually think he can't find you, you're deluding yourself

As soon as you breathe a sigh of relief, any door, or cabinet, to said hiding spot will be flung open, air rushing past. "Found you! :D"

Again, all of this is just a game to him, but he's not stupid. He sees the terror in your eyes, pretending not to notice it as he yaps about how said 'hiding spot' was a good one and how it was fun.

Will get clingy afterwards, regardless if you hid or ran, cuddles, doesn't matter if you don't want them, you're getting them!

Even if you tried running away he wouldn't chain you up, or tie you down, I think he would like the chase tbh, even if realistically he would reach you in a matter of seconds, regardless of how far you were.

A/n: I hope you liked these!!

I wrote these late on a school night, I might be cooked, yall its 12:54 am 😭😭

#sonic #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere sonic #yandere #yandere sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog #x reader #headcanons #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfictions #i should sleep #zzzz #sonic x reader #zzz #i want to kiss him so bad #muah muah muah

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milatiny-xx · 1 month ago

Text

freezing point | j.wy

pairing: jung wooyoung x gn!reader summary: you're assigned to help wooyoung film a winter vlog. the problem is, the heat's out at the cabin and the repairman can't come until tomorrow. tags: fluff, mutual pining, slow burn(ish), ateez staff!reader wc: 3.0k a/n: hi loves! first post on a shiny new blog ✨✨ it's literally already like summer where i'm at, but hey i think it's still mostly cold in korea rn so enjoy cuddly woo. x

⊹₊⟡⋆ masterlist | taglist ⊹₊⟡⋆

"Ach, it's freezing out here!" Wooyoung says, hissing through clenched teeth. "Whose idea was it to shoot a winter vlog?"

"You can take that up with your Captain," you reply.

You slide the lens off of the camera and carefully detach it from the tripod, wary of the ankle-deep snow it's wedged in.

"I won't be able to," Wooyoung mutters in response. "I'll be dead, because I froze to death."

You chuckle quietly, shaking your head at his dramatic behavior. As a part of ATEEZ's staff, you've come to terms with the fact that your job sometimes requires you to put up with less than ideal conditions and abnormal tasks. You have to admit that when management approved Hongjoong's idea to shoot a vlog at a winter cabin, you hadn't been overly excited about it.

Particularly, when you were assigned to be Wooyoung's personal camera operator. Of course you know that being assigned to a specific member not only means you have to follow them around all day long but also that you have to stare down a camera lens directly at their face for hours and hours.

You've done it plenty of times before for other members—usually Jongho or San. But management wanted to switch things up for a change of pace. If you're being honest, it's hard enough for you to hold eye contact with Wooyoung for ten seconds, let alone ten hours.

"Two steps to your right, please," you direct. He follows your instructions, and you nod. "Perfect. Okay, so for this part, just say hi and welcome everyone back to ATEEZ's YouTube channel and explain what we're doing here. You know how this all works. We can do a couple of takes if you want."

You position yourself behind the camera, lining up your sightline and raising a hand so that you can signal to Wooyoung. He stares directly into the camera, and it feels like he's looking straight into your eyes. Clearing your throat, you swallow a smile as he pastes a handsome grin on his face and prepares to deliver his lines.

"And...three, two, one..." you count down and point to cue Wooyoung.

"Hi Atiny!" he beams, waving sweetly. "It's my turn to film a vlog, so I'm taking you on a little winter adventure. We're here in Gangwon Province at a cabin that's just a little distance away from the Yongpyong Ski Resort."

He points in the direction of the ski lodge, and you smoothly angle the camera to where you can just see the tip of the resort sticking up over the tree line. You pan back to Wooyoung.

"We're gonna head there tomorrow to snowboard," he continues, "but for now we're gonna go inside and check out the cabin and then head into town to go grocery shopping for some food. So, let's go inside!"

"And cut!" you shout after pausing for a few seconds. "Wow, you nailed that. I'm impressed. Wanna see it?"

He nods and comes over to stand beside you. You position the camera so you can both see, too aware of how close he's standing; too aware of the way his warm breath ghosts over your uncovered neck. You gulp, playing the video back. He watches in uncharacteristic silence, nodding his head and clapping when the video ends. You smile, slinging the camera over your neck.

"Be honest. I'm better than the other members, right?" he says, grinning cheekily.

"Better than San? Yes, significantly better and much easier to work with. San has so much random, chaotic energy that it's hard to keep track of him sometimes. Better than Jongho?" you smile teasingly at him. "Never. Your maknae is a dream to work with."

Wooyoung scoffs, clutching his chest in fake pain. Despite yourself, you gasp when his hand clamps around your shoulder. He pretends to stumble, as if he's been shot. You bite the inside of your cheek to swallow a laugh and brush his hand away from your shoulder. Wooyoung smiles, tilting his head toward you.

"A dream? Oof. That's okay. Challenge accepted," he says.

He winks. You feel the burn immediately as it spreads across your ears and cheeks. You clear your throat, dropping your head to look at the camera screen. You're used to him flirting like that. He does it with everyone. Most of the members are shameless flirts. But you can't deny that when Wooyoung says things like that to you, you like to pretend he means it.

"Uh...let's head inside," you say, trying to change the subject. "We can do a cabin tour."

The cabin is small and simple, with just a living room, small kitchen, two bedrooms, and a shared bathroom. You silently thank your supervisor for remembering to book a cabin with two beds.

Taking into consideration Wooyoung's playful, excitable behavior, he's a natural in front of the camera. You're able to get through the cabin tour in less than twenty minutes with only two takes.

"And cut! Perfect. On second thought, Jongho might need to be a little worried now," you say. As you're double-checking the video, you find your teeth chattering violently. "Jeez, is there a thermostat in here? It's freezing."

Wooyoung shrugs, and you put down your camera as you both begin to search the cabin looking for the thermostat.

"Ah, found it!" Wooyoung shouts, and you follow his voice into the hallway.

"Oh thank god. Turn it all the way up, please."

Wooyoung chuckles. The way he grins at you, makes your stomach churn. Your eyes drop down to appreciate his slender fingers as they press the arrow next to the word HEAT. You wait a few seconds, listening intently for the sound of the heater clicking on. But nothing comes.

"Whaaa...?" he mumbles.

"Try again," you say.

He looks at you for a brief second before trying again, applying more pressure to the buttons this time. You wait again. Nothing. He tries a third time. And then a fourth time.

"Uh...maybe you have to hit another button first? Like to turn it on?" you suggest, peering over his shoulder to study the options.

He clicks every single button on the machine but nothing has any effect, whatsoever. He shakes his head, shooting you a concerned glance.

"Ahh," he whines. "I think it's broken."

"No...no there's no way it doesn't work...right? They would never put us in a cabin with a thermostat that doesn't work. Not in this weather. W-wait, hold on. Let me call someone an-and double check," you stutter, fumbling for your phone.

You dial your supervisor's number, tapping your foot as it rings. Your heart lurches when he answers on the other side. You explain the situation, sure that he'll have a solution. He assures you that he'll call the landlord and straighten everything out.

A sigh of relief escapes your chest, and you nod toward Wooyoung. Thank god. Crisis averted.

You finish up filming the cabin and then head down into town to shoot Wooyoung's shopping adventure. He lets his silliness come out a little more at the grocery store, getting up close and personal with the camera—and you. You laugh as he struggles to find the right products for the tteokbokki he wants to make for dinner, cracking jokes, and just generally looking really, really cute.

After traveling back up to the cabin, you film Wooyoung getting started on the dinner. The heat from the stove helps a little in warming the house, but you're impatiently awaiting the repairman's arrival. As if on cue, your phone rings. You place the camera down and answer quickly.

"Please tell me the repairman is walking up the path now?" you say into the receiver.

"Er..." your supervisor clears his throat, obviously nervous.

"Oh no...what?"

"I'm afraid the repairman is booked up today. He won't be able to make it until tomorrow."

"What?!"

"I know, I know. But there's a fireplace, at least, isn't there?"

Your gaze flicks toward the small fireplace in the living room.

"Well, yeah, but it...it's tiny."

"Well, it'll have to do for tonight. Listen, I'm sorry for the setback, but it's just for one night. If you need to buy some extra blankets or something, go ahead and we'll charge it to the company account. Anyway, this gives you a fun angle for Wooyoung's vlog. How to survive a night at a cabin without heat. You know, like a challenge. With a snappy title like, er...Freezing Point."

"Freezing point?" you quirk an eyebrow. "This was not supposed to be a challenge video. I wasn't even supposed to be assigned to this project," you whine, turning your back to Wooyoung and lowering your voice.

You are not strong enough for this.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing you can do except wait for the repairman to come tomorrow."

You run a hand over your face and groan.

"Okay, thanks anyway." You hang up and turn to meet Wooyoung's face. His eyebrows are raised curiously. "The repairman can't make it until tomorrow. We're stuck without heat tonight."

"Ahhh, no way," he responds.

"That tteokbokki better be piping hot."

Wooyoung chuckles, running a hand through his hair. When he turns away to check on the food, you allow your eyes to shamelessly trail along the angle of his jaw and down the veins in his neck. Your stomach flips unexpectedly, so you rip your gaze away.

Three years you've worked for ATEEZ, watched Wooyoung from behind the scenes, chit-chatted with him here and there while trying not to lose your mind. Now, here you are alone with him, watching him cook you dinner.

It suddenly feels so...domestic.

The tteokbokki is just warm enough to get some heat back into your bodies for about an hour or so. To your surprise, Wooyoung is not a bad cook, at all. You thoroughly enjoy your meal and talking to him. After cleaning up, you take turns changing into your pajamas. You both agree the best bet is to sleep on the floor in the living room where the fireplace is.

Wooyoung figures out how to light it while you search through the closets and drawers, gathering all the blankets you can find. You work together to set up the blankets and pillows across the floor in front of the fireplace, creating a makeshift bed. Despite the small space, you make sure to position yourself on the far edge of the room.

You lie down, facing the fire and pull a blanket up to your chin. Wooyoung, on the other hand, settles down on his back right in front of the fire. He holds out his hands, sighing contentedly. His eyes flick over to you, and he does a double take. His head lolls to the side.

"What are you doing over there?" he asks.

"Hm? Just...laying."

"Don't you...wanna sleep in front of the fire? I worked so hard lighting it," he pouts playfully.

You can't help but smile. How is he so cute??

"I'm okay here."

His eyes linger on you for a moment, and his unimpressed expression makes you think he's not convinced. But he shrugs and rolls back toward the fireplace.

"Suit yourself," he says in a sing-song voice.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to sleep, but it's so freaking cold. Your breath escapes shakily, and you can't help but shiver, even with the blanket. A sniff makes you realize that your nose is beginning to run, too.

"Are you still cold?" Wooyoung's voice escapes sweet and low.

Your eyes flash open, and you lose your breath. He's turned on his side, the fire casting a gentle orange light across his handsome face. He looks so soft, warm, sincere.

You suddenly realize the situation you're in—the fact that you could be nestled in between his arms right now if you really wanted to.

"N-no. I'm f-fine," you stutter, clenching your teeth together to keep them from chattering. You aren't totally sure if the chattering is from the cold or your nerves.

"You're shivering."

"J-just a little. I'll be ok-kay."

He shakes his head, lifting the blanket beside him. He beckons you over with a toss of his head.

"Come here," he says. You hesitate, opening your mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. He waves you over again. "Come on. I won't bite. Unless you ask."

You huff and crawl toward him, stiffly positioning your body beside his. You don't know if it was more awkward to face him or to turn away. His arm curls around your shoulders as he drapes the blanket over you. Your spine goes rigid and eyes widen as you meet his gaze.

You watch as his sweet smile fades, his expression going dead serious. You expect him to withdraw his hand, but he doesn't. Instead, his fingers splay across your back. You can feel the warmth of his palm through your pajamas.

His eyes search your face, moving slowly and deliberately as if he were studying you.

"What are you doing?" you ask quietly, not sure if you actually mean to say it out loud.

"Looking at you."

"I've...never seen you so serious," you tease, hoping to dispel some of the tension.

"Pretty."

"What?"

"You. You're pretty. Very pretty. You always have been."

You freeze, not knowing how to respond. You can't bring yourself to break eye contact and can barely force yourself to breathe. Wooyoung's hand slides away from your back and moves toward your face. His palm cups your cheek, his thumb tracing down your cheekbone onto your chin. Your eyes flutter shut under his touch, relishing in the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb brushes over your lower lip. Your breath catches in your throat.

Is he insane?? You work for him. He's practically your boss. Nothing about this is appropriate.

So, why aren't you stopping him?

You pry your eyes open, looking at him pleadingly.

"Hmm," he hums, smirking. "You have a pretty mouth, too."

"Wooyoung..." the whisper, desperate and breathy, escapes your lips before you can stop it.

Wooyoung inhales sharply, squeezing his eyes shut and resting his forehead against yours.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asks, breath uneven as he leans in close to you. You say nothing, your brain preoccupied with the effort it's taking to resist smashing your lips against his. "It's been torture for me. Every second of every day, I think about you. All the time, I'm thinking about you. I try not to, but whenever you're working I find you. I look at you. I want to look at you. I love looking at you."

You shake your head, placing your palm against his chest to push him away. He holds on tightly, barely moving an inch despite all of your strength. You look into his eyes, bewildered.

"Wooyoung, what are you talking about? How can any of this be true?" you ask.

His eyebrows knit together, pain etching across his face.

"You think I'm lying."

"No, of course not. I just...maybe it's the cold. It's messing with your head or your judgement or something."

His expression returns to that dead serious face, not a hint of the easygoing, carefree Wooyoung you're used to.

"I requested you."

"What?"

"I specifically requested you for this weekend."

You shake your head.

"I don't understand."

"It was my idea to switch around the camera operators. And, since it was my idea, they let me pick who I wanted to be paired with. So, I picked you. It sounds super creepy now...but I wanted to spend time with you. Just the two of us. I wanted to see if...if I still felt like this when it was just us. A-and I do. I really, really do. I like you. A lot."

You can't say anything for a moment, just search his eyes for any hint of this being a joke. You briefly wonder if there's a hidden camera somewhere to prank you. But nothing seems off. Everything—his expression, his body language, his words—they all feel genuinely real.

You aren't sure why, but a laugh suddenly spills from your chest. A few more follow before you gasp, slapping your hand over your mouth.

"Oh my god I'm sorry!" you say. "I just don't know what else to do because, well, it's not funny, but it sort of is because...well, I like you, too. I've liked you for a while, probably like two years now, but it was so inappropriate because I work for you. And that would have been weird, and they say not to mix business and pleasure, so I didn't say anything. Oh, and also, I thought you would never ever like me back like that because who am I? I'm just a random person, but you're..." you start to run out of steam, realizing that you're babbling something awful. "You're Wooyoung. You're amazing and wonderful and funny. And beautiful."

Wooyoung chuckles, his grip on your face tightening.

"Yeah, no, I definitely like you."

You giggle, feeling heat spread through you.

"So, what now?"

"Now? Oh, I'm gonna kiss you now. Okay?"

"Okay," your voice escapes like a different person's, giddy and childish and silly.

Wooyoung leans forward, tilting his head to capture your lips between his. Your eyes flutter shut, your palm on his chest curling into the fabric of his shirt. His mouth is soft and wet, molding perfectly on top of yours. The kiss is perfect, not too long, not too hard, just a little bit of pressure and a slow break.

When you open your eyes, a dumb smile curves across your lips. The way he's looking at you—like you're the most interesting thing on the planet—it's wonderful.

"I think maybe you just surpassed Jongho," you tease.

"Really?"

"Yeah, well, Jonho's never kissed me like that."

His expression goes serious for a minute.

"Jongho better never kiss you at all," he says firmly. He taps his pointer finger against your lips. "These are mine now."

"Then you'd better get back down here and use them."

"Yes, jagi."

You giggle as he lowers his lips to yours again.

How to survive a night at a cabin without heat? Three words: Jung Wooyoung's lips.

taglist: //

#wooyoung #jung wooyong #ateez #wooyoung x reader #ateez x reader #wooyoung fic #ateez fic #fic #milatiny-xx

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