#Extended PL Highlights

[leclerc-hs]

it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16

pairing: college!charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends with benefits!) summary: in which you and a guy in your class are friends with benefits OR you and your friends with benefits might be more? warnings: smut under the cut! thigh-riding, throat-fucking, p in v sex!, no condoms (bad!), badly translated french (pls correct me), angst, pining, NOT PROOFREAD!!!! word count: 4.8k! author's note: so i ALMOST scrapped this entire thing because i wasn't sure how i felt about it so if it sucks, i understand LOL. i had a lot of fun writing this and can see myself writing a lot of scenarios for them like before there was this many feelings involved? like maybe a spring break one shot for them, when they hooked up for first time ;) PLEASE let me hear your thoughts and any comments you have. I love hearing from you guys xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE WEIGHT OF his eyes bore into the back of your skull, a palpable presence as you immerse yourself in the lecture before you. It’s almost become a ritual at this point: a magnetic pull compels you to glance his way, and there he is, a smirk stretching wide across his face, as if he holds the upper hand.

In that fleeting moment where your eyes meet his verdant gaze, a fierce intensity ignites within you. It’s as if a wildfire unleashes, consuming you with an unbridled mix of desire and exasperation. Your stomach tightens with a fervent ache, betraying the absolute irritation you feel at his ability to rile you up with one look.

Internally, Charles wrestles with the urge to gaze at you as though you’ve strung the stars and moon just for him. Yet, outwardly, he remains steadfast, unwilling to reveal his vulnerability when it comes to you. Instead, he masks his emotions behind a practiced smirk—a façade. And the blushing reaction you give him almost every time, only enthuses him more.

“Arrête!” You half-shout, though it emerges more as a whispered urgency amidst the large lecture hall.

Charles leans in over his desk, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear, a proximity that sets your heart racing with a rapid intensity.

“Est-ce que je te verra ice soir?” Will I see you tonight?

You kept your head straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of him being so close, resisting the allure of his voice. 

“Peut-être.” Maybe.

At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Bernard stands tall, his expression grave as he prepares his common ‘you guys are smarter than this’ speech about the recent exam grades. He highlights the alarming fact that more than half of the class received a 70% or lower. And true to his reputation as the kindest professor, he extends an olive branch by offering retakes to those who seek improvement before dismissing the lecture.

You gather your belongings, ready to make your exit, when suddenly, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulder just as you cross the threshold of the door.

You? Aced it. Charles? Not so aced it.

Which you knew meant you were helping him study as usual.

-

You watch as Charles runs his fingers through his disheveled locks, each movement betraying a hint of frustration and determination. His lips form a subtle pout as he fixates on the study material you laid out before him, his furrowed brows highlighting the depth of his concentration.

“Mon chou, je ne pensais pas que tu m’avais invite pour ça.” I didn’t think you invited me over for this.

With a gleam in his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as he collapses on the many pillows of your bed behind him. The papers scattered across the bed threaten to take flight, but your swift reflexes saved them from soaring away into chaos.

You narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your amusement at the situation.

“Tu dois étudier.” You need to study.

Charles stares at the corners of your lips, his eyes not straying once from them even as you spoke. 

“Embrasse-moi d’abord.” Kiss me first. He nearly begs; his face almost completely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt as he laid on his back beside your cross-legged figure.

“Étudie.” Study. Your words were firm, yet you could feel your resolve slipping under the intensity of his gaze, as it traces a path from your lips to your eyes, igniting a warmth that stirred whenever he was near.

His arm reaches up behind your neck in a swift motion, too quick for you to even see it coming. His fingers grabbing the nape of your neck in a tight grip as he brings your face down to his, your body toppling over his in an unnatural position from his force. His lips collide with yours instantly, and the squeal you elicit gives him easy access to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

He groans softly against your mouth, something about how sweet your mouth tastes. The moan that escapes your lips and melded into his mouth drove him absolutely crazy. The grip on the back of your neck didn’t loosen as he held you to him, giving you no opportunity to pull away from him.

Your tank top cladded chest was pressed against the side of his body, embracing you in his warmth. You press a hand to his chest, attempting to push yourself up, but he groans against your lips in detest before loosening his grip on your neck. 

“Est-ce vraiment necessaire.” Do we have to? He begins to pepper kisses all around your face, his fingers dipping under the straps of your tank top, tracing intricate patterns of the soft skin beneath.

You slip your hand under the warmth of his hoodie, his toned muscles flexing under your cold fingertips as you trail your hand up his chest and slip one leg over him, straddling his thigh. His skin was so warm. Almost like a furnace.

He sucks in a breath, as if your touch hurt him, but really, he craved it. He wanted you everywhere. The tight leggings that adorned your body did little to prevent Charles from feeling the heat and arousal of your pussy against his thigh. A smirk widened on his lips almost instantly. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He could sense your contemplative thoughts by one glance at your eyes. As if you knew he needed to study, but you needed this more.

 You could barely concentrate the minute Charles sprawled onto your bed earlier, his legs spread and shorts riding up to expose the muscles of his thighs. It was even harder to think with the way his soft green eyes look up at you, and the way his fingers felt on you.

His hand trails from beneath the strap of your tank top, your hardened nipples more than visible through the thin fabric of it, to the front of your breasts.

“No bra?” His thumb rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger above the fabric of your shirt. “Planning on getting fucked, hm?” 

Your hips rut against his thigh almost instantly in response to his words. The feeling of his thigh against your clit, causing a soft moan to slip. It was then, that Charles seemed to lose all restraint as his hand grasped the side of your neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb resting in the center of your neck. He flexed his thigh, his eyes gleaming at the sight of your blown out pupils.

“Regarde-toi,” Look at you. He edged you on. “Just wanna ride m’thigh, yeah?” 

Your hips move in their own rhythm, unable to stop. It just feels too good. You nodded repeatedly as you lean over, pressing your chest to his, as he claims your lips once again. His hot, tongue sliding against yours as the stubble of his facial hair scratches your chin.

You struggle, losing the rhythm of your hips until Charles slid his hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. “C’mon mon chou, tu dois travailler pour ça.” You have to work for it.

“We should study.” You mention, the pace of your hips not stopping. As if your body has a mind of its own.

“Nous sommes.” We are. He argues, his fingertips squeezing into the skin of your hips even more. “Now, keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on me.”

-

“Oh, what about her?” You point to the pretty brunette that was currently leaned against the wall, a red solo cup in her manicured hand, as she was deep in conversation with a few other girls that you haven’t seen before.

Charles sighs heavily, rolling his eyes just slightly. “Why are you pawning me off?” He cracks a smile, his elbows gently hitting your side.

You let out a small laugh before bringing your own cup to your lips. The liquid of your drink resting on the top of your lip as you finished a sip and turned to look at Charles. “M’not!” You shrug your shoulders. “Elle est jolie and keeps looking at you thinkin’ no one’s noticed.” She’s pretty.

He wouldn’t know about the ‘pretty brunette’ you claimed was there. He didn’t know about any other girl that was here. His eyes haven’t left your figure the entire night. Since you stepped in the entrance of the house he was by your side, it was like his body knew you arrived.

“Peu importe ça, m’gonna go dance.” Whatever. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a deep laugh, and saunter off to find one of your friends already on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the house. 

Charles leans casually against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of your radiant smile from afar. Despite himself, a soft grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you sure you’re not together?” One of his friends, Alex, teases, leaning in close to Charles and handing him a red solo cup, its contents mostly frothy beer foam from an evidently lazy pour. “I was thinking of asking her out.”

Charles’s gaze drift from the frothy mess in his cup to Alex’s expectant face, a furrow forming on his brow. It wasn’t the foam that troubled him, rather, it was Alex’s words that unsettled him. How was he supposed to respond? We aren’t together but I think I’m in love with her?

Charles clenches his jaw, fighting back the urge to speak his truth, as the words “have at it” slip past his lips with a forced nonchalance. With a hollow smile, he raises the cup to his lips, swallowing the acrid liquid with a newfound eagerness that masked the bitter taste of envy and longing festering in his chest. As Alex made his way towards you, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of anguish, knowing that he was relinquishing his chance to confess his feelings, drowning them instead in the depths of a cheap beer.

-

“Mmm, tu es tellement douée.” You’re so good.

You weren’t quite sure how you ended up in this scenario. All you remember is being dragged away from a game of beer-pong with Alex, his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly it could’ve left marks, and shoving you onto your knees as soon as he shut the bathroom door. 

Dwelling on the how’s and why’s seemed inconsequential now. Especially with his cock buried deep down your throat like it is right now, and especially with the praises that slip past his lips.

Charles lulls his head back with a loud groan as he flexes his hips into your mouth, giving you little to no opportunity to breathe. No opportunity to speak. But you didn’t care. You would do anything to please him.

“Tellement putain de jolie, mon dieu.” So fucking pretty, my God.

“Bet you’re soaked under that dress, hm?” His grip on your hair tightens. “Got you all wet without even touching you.” His laugh is deep and mocking. You feel your thighs clench, like it was an automatic response. “Only I get you like this, yeah?”

You press your face forward, not even needing his force as you take full enjoyment in the feeling of him in your mouth.

“So eager, mon chou.”

You moan at the feeling of his smooth cock against the walls of your throat. The vibrations of your moan, immediately sending him over the edge. His white, hot cum spills down your throat, filling you up, before he pulls out. A long string of saliva follows, your eyes completely teary. 

He lifts you from your knees, the cool tile of the bathroom floor no longer your support, his thumb gently resting on your chin as he studies you for a mere second. Taking in the streaky tears under your eyes and your swollen lips. He could already feel the blood rushing back to his cock.

“Bet you’re leaking all over yourself, yeah?” You catch the smirk that pulls onto his lips before his lips crash down onto yours. His teeth nibbling on your bottom lip for a brief second before he’s pulling away, pushing you up onto the bathroom sink counter as he stands in between your spread legs. “All achy?” He cocked his head to the side a little, like he knew something you didn’t.

It was so fast, you weren’t even able to ask questions before he leaned forward, his fingers slipping into the lace of your underwear, pushing them aside, and pressing his hot tongue to your soaked core.

You swore you’ve never moaned so loud in your life as you just did in this moment.  At the feeling of the kitten licks on your clit, at the feeling of him shoving two fingers into you, finding that spot he knew you loved most almost instantly.

Your fingers franticly reached into his tousled locks, pulling his hair probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he moaned right into your pussy. Like he couldn’t ever get enough of you. Like he would stay licking you for forever if he could.

“Mon dieu,” My god. You squeal as your head lulls back against the cool mirror behind you and bite your lip trying to conceal the moans.

You look down at Charles, his eyes already staring at you, his green eyes completely darkened now. It makes your stomach do a multitude of flips. Your attempt to squeeze your legs shut from the pressure building in your stomach, but Charles grips his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding them open.

A series of knocks are heard on the bathroom door which sends you into a total panic to which Charles yells “Va te faire foutre!” Fuck off!

 Your body squirms against Charles’ mouth and the granite of the countertop, but he holds you in place as if to say you’re not going anywhere until you soak my mouth.

He ate you out like a possessed man. Your chest is flushed red as the speed of his tongue picks up, sending you into overdrive. It wasn’t until he sucks harshly on your clit, the pressure of it, has you leaping over the edge into your orgasm. You came hard enough that your body arched, your fingers clenching his hair, pulling hard.

Charles doesn’t come up right away, he licks and licks until you’re pushing him off you. Both of your chests rose and fell in rhythm with each heavy breath, the lingering echoes of the lively party beyond the door gradually seeping back into your consciousness. It felt as though you had just descended from a faraway realm, returning to the bustling reality surrounding you.

His lips glistened, coated in you, as he stares at you completely fucked out on the bathroom counter. An unmistakable smugness in his expression.

His heart clenches as he drinks in the sight of you, so many emotions swirling in his chest. As you stretch your lips into that smile he loves so much, he feels a swell of warmth flood his senses, a tender ache stirring in the depths of his soul.

“Qu’est-ce qui te prend?” What’s gotten into you?

Not that you were complaining at what just happened. If anything, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted a repeat right now.

He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, one hand leisurely slipping into his pocket, while the other moved to grasp the door handle. With a patient stance, he awaited your readiness before even considering opening the door. “J’avais juste besoin de toi,” Just needed you. He whispers, his voice carrying a tender resonance, emphasizing the depth of longing.

And then he’s swinging the door open, guiding you both back to the party.

-

“Je pense que nous devrions arrêter.” I think we should stop.

The words felt heavy in your throat as you said them, your hand clasped in Charles’ hand as you sat across from one another in the campus coffee shop.

Charles chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, but when be caught the seriousness in your expression, his laughter faded. His eyebrows knitted together, a pang of pain igniting in his chest and spreading like wildfire.

You watched as he leaned his head back against the booth, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if unable to meet your eyes.

“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? He met your eyes again, and you noticed a subtle shift in their hue—they were slightly darker than their usual shade of green.

“Je ne pense pas que ç ava marcher.” I don’t think this is going to work out. As you uttered the words, a queasy sensation churned in your stomach, making you feel like you were going to be sick. Similarly, Charles felt a wave of nausea wash over him upon hearing your words, his own stomach in knots.

Just looking at him had your eyes burning, but you refused to let the tears fall. Despite the overwhelming love you felt for this man, you couldn’t ignore the reality that it was unlikely to progress beyond the messy situation you found yourselves in. What were you supposed to do? Be friends that fuck for the rest of your lives?

You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. No, you’ve been thinking about this for so long, but cutting it off was just too hard. Cutting him off was too hard.

As you watched him slowly retract his fingers from yours, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose while he blinked, a fiery ache within your chest grew.

“We’re friends, always, right?” You asked, offering him a soft smile, though inside, your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You reminded yourself that this was necessary. You needed to go on dates. Not that he was exactly holding you back. It just felt wrong to go on dates while sleeping with another.

“Right,” he responded, his expression devoid of a smile. “Friends.” He nodded slowly, as if carefully considering the weight of the situation before him.

“Est-ce que je peux demander ce qui a déclencé cela?” Can I ask what brought this up? His fingers tapped restlessly along the edge of the table, betraying his impatience as he awaited your answer.

Meanwhile, you sat twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally stealing glances at them. Why did this conversation feel so unbearably difficult?

“Quoi?” What?

“Est-ce que j’ai fait quelque chose?” Did I do something?

You shook your head instantly, a small blush forming on your cheeks. “I just,” You began, but felt flustered as you took a pause to look back down at your fingers and then him again. His eyes made you feel hot all over, the way they never strayed from your face whenever you spoke to him, the way they dropped to your lips every so often as if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. He couldn’t.

“I just think I need to go on dates.” You nervously smiled.

“You think?” He scoffed, throwing one arm over the top of the booth, and resting it there as he fell into a relaxed position. His eye twitched slightly, as he flexed his hand and clenched it like he was holding himself back.

You’re not sure how to respond. You had anticipated this conversation to be brief, perhaps along the lines of “I think we should end this,” followed by his immediate agreement. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. You could feel yourself growing flustered the longer you sat here. Why couldn’t he just simply agree, no questions asked.

You nodded, with slight hesitance. Did you really want to end it with him? No.

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a little smirk on his face as he usually did. “Très bien.” Fine.

And that was that.

-

Charles decided that he had it up to here when you strolled into the house party, lips shiny with gloss, and you hand held in none other than Alex’s. It was as if you were trying to torture him. Like you knew that he loved you and you just wanted to hurt him a little more.

He’s watching, you can feel his eyes burn into you as you turn your head, pretending to listen to Alex as he rambles on about some story. You don’t let yourself glance over to Charles until later in the night, when he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, a half-empty beer bottle gripped in his hand, eyes already on you.

You felt your stomach do a multitude of flips from the eye-contact, that you even almost pulled your hand from Alex’s. Like you were caught doing something wrong.

You quickly realized that you had little to no self-control, especially when it came to Charles. With his hair pushed back and the linen shirt half-unbuttoned, allowing the toned and taut muscles of his stomach to peek through, it almost seemed as though he wanted to make it even harder for you to resist. Like he wanted to punish you for not choosing him.

He had you right where he wanted you, sort of.

“Shh,” Charles nips at your earlobe, eliciting a mewl from you as he presses you against the mattress of his bed. “You want everyone to hear what a whore you are, hm?”

Another string of moans leaves your lips as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers gripping the front of your neck tightly. His eyes fixed on yours, the pace of his hips was slow, but so deep. 

“Tell me,” Charles began, his tongue trailing along your collarbones and up your neck until his mouth hovered over yours. “Still wanna play stupid games with me, jolie fille?” Pretty girl.

You whined as his hips picked up in pace. “Ouvrir.” Open. You did so without a second thought, only to be met with a string of saliva meeting your tongue. Charles groaned as you swallowed his spit, eagerly.

“Still wanna pretend we’re just friends?” He could feel your walls trembling as her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. It was a tangle of tongues and moans.

“Does he fuck you as good as me?” You couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you, staring at you, touching you. “Gripping me like you’re gonna come.”

You shook your head repeatedly. 

“That’s it,” His voice was gentle in your ear. “So good, mon chou.” 

Your breaths were jagged and heavy as he took you harder and harder. “Rub your pretty little clit for me, yeah?” 

Your body was shaking as you trailed your fingers down, fingers playing with your clit. Charles rested on his knees, his eyes staring at his cock being swallowed by your pussy, and the way your fingers toyed with your sensitive clit. He groaned at the sight of his cock coated in you. 

It wasn’t long before you careening forward with a cry, your body arching off the bed, as you came around his cock. Charles fell forward over you, an arm on each side of your head, as he cocooned you. His hips didn’t let up as you sobbed out, your toes curling.

Charles could feel his resolve slipping at the feeling of your soaked walls clenching him. He threw his head into the crevice of your neck, the rhythm of his hips faltering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper than before. He rolled his hips, pumping into you with such a fervent rush. 

“Mon dieu,” His groans were soft in your ear. “You feel so good.”

It wasn’t until you moaned in his ear, begging for him to come in you, that he lost all control. A deep moan, pressing his hips down against yours as he held you down, pumping his cum deep into you.

For a few moments, it was silent. Just the sound of your heavy breaths as Charles collapsed to the side of you. You both felt oddly at peace, even with the thumping of the house party music heard from the other side of his bedroom door.

Charles stood up, grabbing a towel from his bathroom, before bringing it to you to help clean you up. Something primal filled his chest as he stared at you sprawled on his bed, his cum dripping out of you. 

It was the last swipe of the towel when he finally spoke.

“We’re not friends.” He stated. He was sick of teetering around the topic. He was sick of seeing you with other guys at his house.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he held his hand up, essentially silencing you. 

“Stop pretending you want any other guy’s cock.” He stood before you as you sat up on the edge of the bed still naked, hands clenched at his sides in a fist. You began to stand up, your face turning red with anger, not because of his words but because he was right.

You grabbed your dress that was in a pile on the floor, slipping it on in a hurry. “Je dois partir.” I need to go. You began, “Alex me cherche probablement.” Alex is probably looking for me.

It was then that Charles raised his voice, if it weren’t for the loud music, you could’ve sworn the entire house would’ve heard.

“J’en ai tellement marre de ça!” I’m so sick of this! He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the room back and forth. You felt your words caught in your throat as you stood still, your eyes following his every movement until he stood before you, his hands gripping your waist.. “Je t’aime!” I love you! He laughs after he says it, like he’s so pathetically in love with you and you have no care in the world for it.

“I cannot handle seeing you with another man.” He rambles off. “I cannot handle seeing you showing up here, to my home, holding another man’s hand.” He seethes, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathes in, attempting to calm himself down.

“I know you love me.” His fingers grab your hand, pulling it up to his chest and holding it where his heart beats. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, his eyes reflecting a wild intensity, his hair disheveled hair adding to his untamed allure. Sensing your vulnerability, he gently cupped your face with his other hand, offering you a tender touch. You leaned into his comforting embrace, as if seeking solace in his presence. With a silent nod, you pressed your head against his hand, a single tear escaping down your cheek, bearing witness to the depth of your emotions.

“I’m so sick of seeing people with what is mine.” He urged. “You can’t be someone else’s, not when you are already mine.”

“Charlie,” You drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with him, drowning in the depths of his green gaze. Every fiber of your being resonated with love for this man, an unshakeable devotion that consumed your soul.

“S’il te plait.” Please. His voice was a whispered hush as he begged. “Put me out of my misery.” 

He opened his mouth to continue, but you didn’t let him. You stood on the tips of your toes, leaning forward to press your chest against his as you pressed your lips to him. His arms immediately wrapping around your waist as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you in his mouth again, his cock already hardening for you.

You pulled off him, “Really?” He let a small laugh escape his lips as he pulled your mouth back onto his for a small peck.

“I’m a man in love.” He grins, like he has nothing to be ashamed about.

“Je t’aime.” I love you.

Charles tenderly pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along the velvety skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Répète-le.” Say it again. He whispers, his voice husky with desire. As his lips continue down their intoxicating dance on your neck, his fingers trail the straps of your dress, gradually easing them down your shoulders with a tantalizing touch.

“Je t’aime.” I love you. He placed a small nip to your neck, eliciting a small squeal, as he lifted you up and carried you back to his bed.

“M’so in love with you,” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

[yuyuyunnie]

It's Only Just A Crush (JYH)

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Yunho knew he shouldn't be dealing with you. Corrupting your sweet little innocent life, but my god how breathtaking you looked under the night sky.

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: language, unprotected sex (pls wrap up guys!), some slight dirty name-calling but nothing crazy, fingering

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 1.6k

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮: I haven't written in so long, so I desperately apologize if this is not good, but I couldn't help myself. If you like it, please let me know, and if you have any requests please let me know as well! Thank you!

⁂𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽⁂

His head bopped along to the music thumping outside of club. The air encompassed his body, his leather jacket not doing much against the breeze and slight rain that drizzled around him. Yunho’s fingers loosely held his cigarette, taking a deep drag as his eyes grazed across the drunken groups that passed by through the busy street. 

And then, there you were. 

Yunho’s jaw clenched, his eyes settling on the black leather mini dress you wore. He felt as if his throat was going to clamp shut forever. He’s seen you walking down this street multiple times. He doesn’t even know your name, but his desire was through the roof. To his amazement, you and your friends walked into the club that he was standing outside of. Your eyes locked onto his before disappearing into the crowd. 

Smirking, Yunho took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it off into the street. The music was vibrating his body, and the lights highlighting everyones faces every now and then—but he could spot you instantly. Your body was pressed against the bar, your friends arm draped around your waist as you both order something to drink. Yunho’s eyes roamed over your body, drinking in every single detail. 

“Need something?”

Yunho shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes as they landed onto you. You were smiling slightly at him, your lips wrapped around the little straw they gave you from the bar. Yunho felt his dick twitch, his mind immediately racing to your lips pressed around his tips, sucking, choking—

“Hello?”

You waved your hand in his face, a slight giggle coming from you. Yunho sighed, his eyes falling onto yours before smiling back at you. 

“I’m sorry,” He choked out, “How’re you?”

“I’m good,” You hummed, eyeing him up and down, “Do I know you?”

You’re about to, Yunho thought. He smirked, licking his lips as he eyed you up and down, mimicking you. Yunho’s eyes fell onto your cleavage, your breast falling up and down, so smoothly, slowly. Your skin looked soft to the touch, glitter decorating your chest as well. You were ethereal, and Yunho wanted you all to himself. 

“I’m Yunho,” He choked out, extending his hand to you. 

You smiled, taking his hand. Your body immediately relaxed at the feeling of his hand engulfing yours. You glanced down, his bracelet twinkling off the lights, his veins running up his arms, and best of all, the rings that inhabited his fingers. You felt your core pulse, your stomach dropping at the sight. Only your friend knows about your hand kink, and this man had exactly what you’ve been feening for. 

“I’m Y/N,” You smile, letting your hand linger with his. 

Yunho could feel his stomach curl at the sight of you, hearing you talk to him—your fingers gliding past his. Electricity shot through his body and my god how he wanted to savor you. His jaw clenched, his eyes examining the floor before falling back on you. You were still staring at him, the straw dangling off of your bottom lip. You knew what you were doing. You’ve been eyeing Yunho for weeks. You finally decided to wear this leather dress out because you knew he frequented this club. 

You definitely had a school girl crush on him. The way his black hair fell slightly in front of his eyes. His plump lips, and especially his hands. His height added to it, and also his friend that is smuggling saying hi to you. You smirked, eyes falling down to his pants before eyeing Yunho again. It’d be a lie if you said you didn’t want to fuck him, to see where things went. Wether he knows it or not, you’ve been eyeing him as much as he’s been eyeing you. You’ve noticed, you’d be a fool if you didn’t notice. You couldn’t wait to see how he felt—

Felt, Yunho couldn’t wait to see how you felt beneath him. His mouth was watering at the sight of you. Tugging at the collar of his shirt, Yunho cleared his throat, his eyes finding yours piercing back at him. 

“I’ve been eyeing you for weeks, Y/N” He stepped closer, his hand falling to your waist. “I think you’ve been doing the same.” His mouth fell against your ear, his hot breath sending waves through your core, “You’ve been eyeing me too, darling.”

You pulled back, eyes falling onto his lips, “Are you so sure, Yunho?” You cocked your head to the side, a smirk gliding across your face as his tongue skimmed his cheek, a smirk plastering across his face. 

Grabbing your hand, Yunho led you through the crowd, knocking shoulders with everyone as he took you to the nearest bathroom. Ideally he wouldn’t want to fuck you here, but you were too irresistible. The bathroom was dimly lit as Yunho slammed the door behind you, his chest slightly panting. Before you could say anything, Yunho’s mouth slammed against yours. Your cup dropped to the ground as your hands went straight to his hair, coming through the thick locks as his hips ground against yours. 

Fuck he was huge. 

Your panties dampened as the kiss deepened. His hands found their way to your waist, hoisting you up onto the sink. Yunho pulled back, a string of saliva following as you panted. Your chest heaved up and down, the glitter still sparkling under the light. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, his hair disheveled, and his lips already swollen from the intense makeup session between you. 

Leaning in, Yunho pressed his lips to your ear, “I want to fucking tear you apart, my little slut.”

You clenched your thighs, your breath hitching in your throat as you mouth dropped open. Yunho pulled back, his eyes filled with lust as he pulled your dress down, your breasts falling out of the dress. Groaning, Yunho took one nipple in his mouth as his hand tweaked with the other bead. His tongue swirled around and around, your pussy aching as it clenched around nothing. You needed him, bad. 

“Yunho, please,” You begged, trying to pull his head back from your breast. 

Pulling back with a pop, Yunho gazed up at you, his fingers still tweaking with your sensitive nipples. “What do you want, baby?”

“You,” You gasped.

Yunho smirked, his eyes falling to your thighs. Bunching your dress up, Yunho sighed, his dick twitching at the feeling of your panties sopping wet. “You’re already this wet for me? How precious,” He mumbled, hooking his finger around the fabric before pulling it to the side. 

His index finger circled your swollen clit, sending shivers down your spine. Glancing at you, Yunho sped up, his eyes watching your already fucked out expression. Switching his thumb to your clit, Yunho squeezed two fingers inside of you, your back arching off the mirror. 

“Fuck!” You squealed, fingers wrapping around his arm as his fingers worked magic on you. 

The pads of his fingers thrummed quickly against your g-spot and his thumb drawing rough circles around your clit. Before long, your orgasm rang through, your juices flowing into Yunho’s palm. Pulling out, Yunho gawked at the amount of release on his hand, his eyes falling over to you before licking his hand, never breaking eye contact. You gulped, your thighs trembling at the sight. Smirking, Yunho undid his pants before pulling his pants down, his dick springing free from the tight pants. Your mouth dropped, his dick so beautiful under the dim light. His precum glistened în the light and before long, Yunho latched an arm around your waist and pulled you off the sink.

“Trust me,” He whispered while turning you around, “I could stare at you all night, but fuck I’ve got to fuck your tight little pussy.” 

Pressing his thick head between your lips, Yunho pressed in, throwing his head back at the warmth that enveloped his dick. Grunting, Yunho leaned down over you, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long, darling. Every time I see you walk down these streets, I imagined bending you over and filling you up. God,” He groaned, his hips rocking back and forth. “Your pussy feels amazing around my dick. Wouldn’t you agree, princess?”

You whimpered, your mouth falling open as you stared at him through the mirror. Yunho glanced up, a smirk resting on his face as he stared back at you. His dick rocked back and forth, the tip ramming into your cervix. You couldn’t think properly. 

“So pretty, watching me fuck you silly in the filthy bathroom.” He chuckled, his hips smacking into you harder, your pretty little moans filling the bathroom more and more. “Cum around my dick, princess. Show me how I make you feel,”

Another whimper left your mouth as your eyes went hazy. You could feel your orgasm building. As if Yunho could tell, his hand crept around to your front before swiping your clit back and forth. Your body tensed, your head slamming back into Yunho’s shoulders. 

“Fuck,” you squealed, hands gripping the sink, “I’m about to cum!”

“Cum for me, baby,” 

Your body jolted, your orgasm raining over Yunho’s dick. His thrust sped up, his pants filled the bathroom. 

“Fuck Y/N,” 

Yunho grunted as his seed filled your pussy. Your cunt swallowed every last drop and sweet little whimpers left Yunho’s mouth as he pulled out. Both of your releases dripped to the floor and all that was left was the soft panting from your both. 

“I don’t think this crush will ever go away,” Yunho mumbled, smiling at you. 

© yuyuyunnie, 2024.

[cheydlerarts]

OC x Canon Instagram art contest ~✧

Thank you all for the love and support!! I've been in the creepypasta fandom for a decade now, and ever since I "officially" came back a year ago, I've been welcomed with open arms and it feels like im back in the 2010's again in the best way 😭🖤

RULES !!: - Draw your oc x canon creepypasta ship! Self inserts are allowed and encouraged! - NO AI !! - NO tracing! (free to use bases are fine) - No NSFW! - Tag your entry as #creepypasta and #ocxcanon - Tag and @ me so I can see your entry! - You can use other's ocs, as long as you get their permission ! - You can treat this as a DTIYS if you want (this will not effect your score) - If you use my oc Chev, pls also tag it #chevonnerojas and #chainbridgecrawler 👉👈

PRIZES !!: - 1st place: Fully rendered drawing, up to 3 characters - 2nd place: Clean sketch, toon shaded drawing, up to 2 characters - 3rd place: Flat colored sketch, up to 2 characters

Winners will be picked September 27th! (will be extended if need be)

All entries will be added to a highlight!

I mainly wanted to host this contest because too many people these days are too afraid to be "cringe". A lot of people DM me asking how I have the courage to ship my oc with canon characters, and I always tell them that I don't care what people think about my harmless drawings! I just post em, and people seem to like them 🖤

There are so much more supporters than haters out there, and you'd be surprised by how much support you'd get by posting oc x canon! Including me! I LOVE when people ship their ocs or themselves with fictional characters! It makes me happy c:

I honestly think it's cringe when people hate on these things. As long as the ships are appropriately aged and not problematic, literally who gives a fuck? I think YOU should go outside and touch grass, weirdo.

[nc-vb]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧?

originally a commission, repurposed for readervision! writing about the ladies is fun and i should really do it more often, mhm.

notes -> pls i always forget she's 6'1", that's so frickin hot, my gawd

pairing -> quanxi x afab!time-traveler!reader*

warnings -> nsfw (18+, mdni), praise/nicknames used (*good girl), thigh riding, oral sex (reader receiving), orgasm denial, scissoring/tribbing; partial inebriation (alcohol consumption); light editing.

wc -> 4.5k

The modes of transportation in this place are… dated.

So used to seeing the various Tesla models zipping about, or the suddenly extremely common Honda Civic models, you found yourself staring a little harder at the ones that lined the street. All too obviously, the dilapidated street signs around you indicated your new location being somewhere in China. Still, there’d been an aged familiarity about the place, about all of it, from the specific way the splits in the sidewalk crackle from one end to the other, to how the trees willow overtop of them like old, gnarled hands. The glow from the street lights are all equally dull, and do little to highlight the filth the asphalt roads hold. The houses, in their decaying, years left untouched glory, are still cookie cutter enough to say that it once might’ve been a place that people both lived and thrived in— if anything, they might just exist there now. The bare minimum for any species.

But then you look in the distance, past the caved-in roofs, past the loose, swaying electrical lines and through the smog, find the fluorescent lights of the city resting just outside the horizon of this dystopian suburbia, and find that you feel at home, your own having been bright just like that. 

You suppose that being at arms with a stranger in the middle of what you can only deem some kind of cacotopia must not be real. A dream or a hallucination— a nightmare, perhaps. The fact that you’ve never been to this place, this time or era, and yet, it’d been familiar. This partial hell scape with its scarred roads and patchwork housing, stuck in its darkened stasis of a temporary ceasefire? Wondering what kind of dream beasts this realm holds was unavoidable from the start, but at the very least, it still includes those in human form.

Your foe is formidable-- or, your predator, you should say. Armed thrice and practically naked in consideration for their lack of armour, wearing a thin shirt that exposes her midriff and tight black trousers, and with their one eye obscured by an eyepatch, they’re still as swift as a shadow when they charge forward, one blade extended, the other held in reverse against their forearm— usually a predictability. But they’re enough of a threat to you that you don’t bother to analyze much else any further.

If not for obeying modern physics, the stone at your feet would’ve split from the impact of your own harsh landing— without a weapon or defense of your own, you scamper out of the way of the woman’s sword, gasping at the close call. If anything, being in this strange place for so long, and being targeted by strange looking creatures and even stranger humans, has made you adept at avoiding harm.

You’re not entirely sure you can avoid it any further. You watch the attacker sheathe their defending sword and reach up toward their one exposed eye to— to… extract an arrow from within her skull, so easily as if it’d been normal to “store” it there.

“Don’t lose focus now,” they call — she calls, you finally learn, from your own language; she’d recognized it when you’d cursed at her earlier. A couple of obvious tonal sounds and inflections double down on you being somewhere in China. “I’ll be disappointed if you suddenly let me kill you, stranger.”

Slim, yet muscular. Long blonde hair. A gaze most distant, yet she still smiles, even in the middle of battle. Human? With that ability of hers, it’s unlikely; you’ve learned to differentiate that much, as short a time as you’ve spent here.

Amidst their game of cat and mouse, you can’t help but wonder if the area had been evacuated prior to Quanxi’s arrival, as if she’d been prepared to give chase, or even worse, as if she’d been prepared to fight. You don’t doubt the possibility of the woman having some kind of pull or authority in this time; as perhaps unprepared and bare as she appears, her skillset had quickly been proven. Being locked in at a coward’s stalemate for as long as you’d been, Can’t this end already?

“Please,” you pant, a hand poised in a pleading gesture. “Please stop.” The woman’s one visible eyebrow raises, her expression remaining placid. A moment later, she’s sheathing her blades.

“That’s fine with me,” she says, straightening up. “I’m pretty fond of this outfit and I’ve already scuffed the knees; it would be a shame if I tore anything else. You seem like… the civilized type, when you’re not running away. And if that’s the case, we should introduce ourselves.”

You give yours first, eager to catch your breath. The woman smiles.

“I am Quanxi. Now, tell me. The name of the Devil you’ve contracted with.”

Your expression hardens. “Devil?” you repeat. 

Quanxi does not doubt further the woman’s seemingly earnest confusion. She already looks like she’s not from the area, and certainly not necessarily a native from China, either. In fact, it’d been more like she’s stepped out of one of those futuristic, science fiction movies. Your entire existence did not belong here.

Your tired vision sweeps along the street before rising to stare at Quanxi. “Where is this place?”

Testing, “Do you mean this street? This… neighbourhood? Or this world?” You don’t answer, unable. The silence, accompanied with the difficult read on the foreigner’s partial expression, is an answer enough. “It’s called Earth.” 

“I know this is Earth.”

Quanxi’s lip quirks. “Then this place that you’re currently standing in, is in China. And this street, well… I’m not sure the name matters anymore. No one’s lived here in years.”

She watches you, a silence spread taut like a fishing line through the middle of your conversation as you ponder, before cutting it. 

“Listen. I’m glad you decided to stop running away,” your lip curls slightly at the curtness in her words, but you don't interrupt, “but since we’ve established that you’re not from the area, and since I don’t see a… spaceship… parked anywhere… you’re probably not an alien. But, you’ve also probably got nowhere to go, hm?”

“… that’s, unfortunately, correct,” you murmur, sighing. What a headache…

“And it doesn’t seem like you’re looking to cause any trouble. Right?”

“I’m kind of in some trouble of my own, if you haven’t noticed,” you point out.

“Fair enough. Then, I’ll do you a favour. If you’d be reasonable enough to not do something as stupid as try to murder me in my sleep, I’ll invite you into my home.”

Try? I could barely run away from you. 

“I’ll have to attend to some business in the morning outside the country, but, if you’re a good girl tonight, you’re welcome to stay there while I’m gone.” Your lips part to speak at the woman’s condescension, but by the absurdity of your situation, you find yourself unable to spit the words dancing behind your teeth back at her. Good girl?

“Do you need a physical invitation?” Quanxi says; you hadn’t realized she’d already begun to walk, and soundlessly trails after her. “Good.” Again? “I’ve parked several blocks north of here; it’s about a five minute walk if you’re fast about it.”

“Okay.” True to her estimation, once they’d picked up their pace, they found a sleek black automobile awaiting them only four blocks away. Compared to the older modeled cars you’ve passed, this one is at least twenty years ahead of their design.

Quanxi enters on her side before you can even open the passenger side door, and by the time you sit and shut the door behind you, the car has already belted to life, a soft rumbling heard from within its metal shell. A gear shifts, and they move.

The drive out of the dark neighbourhood where you first appeared, and into the glowing city you’d seen from afar is about three times as long as the walk had been. The luminance of the artificial light happens to be intense enough to make you squint so hard that your eyes become slits.

“Depending on how long you’re here for, you might end up getting used to it,” Quanxi says. You turn your head toward her. “Ah, well, I shouldn’t assume you don’t have these in your own home; apologies. Just, don’t stare at these ones directly. They’re definitely not up to code.”

You nod, glancing forward again.

“You aren’t very… chatty, are you,” Quanxi speculates, lowering one of her hands from the wheel to rest in her own lap.

“It’s… hard to think of something to talk about in my situation,” you say, wringing your wrists a little. “Small talk and idle conversations… is even harder.”

“You could always ask more questions.”

“I… can’t think of any.”

“Or ask if I know of a way to return you to your home.”

“And do you?”

“No. I can do a lot, but time travel?” Quanxi scoffs lightly. “Science fiction, for now. Maybe there’s a Devil out there that can do that. But, you could still have bothered to begin that conversation to see if I did.”

You pause. “Is this all a condition of me staying with you? Talking, asking questions…”

“Not at all. Simply makes for better company.”

You scoff, too, and fold your arms over your chest. “Aren’t you worried I’ll destroy your home while you’re gone? Or rob you?”

Quanxi chuckles. “Not at all. You might be lonely when I do, however. By how you greeted me earlier tonight, I should at least make sure my housekeeper doesn’t spook you away into, I don’t know, jumping out the window.”

“If I didn’t value my life, I wouldn’t have run away from you like I did. Why would I jump out the window…” The question hangs in the air, apparently a rhetorical quip.

The rest of the drive is completed in one-sided silence, Quanxi filling it with her own voice when she explains, unwarranted, the existence of Devils and what she’d meant when she’d asked you about a “contract”. It does make sense (and perhaps your interest in the subject did prove that you did have some curiosities), but you still had found yourself verily unwilling to engage in conversation, leaving your thoughts to race wildly beneath your skull.

In contrast to the surrounding buildings, Quanxi’s is not nearly as vibrant. The only lights come from the large fixed windows pressed tight between the dark brickwork; signs of life that neighbourhood from before had sorely been missing. Even the streets, despite the time, are flooded with chattering humans.

“We’re here, get out,” Quanxi says, putting the car into park and exiting it, herself. You join her on the sidewalk, where she’d just given a man a set of keys. In the corner of her vision, you watch him replace where Quanxi once sat, and drive off with her car, while the two of you enter the building.

“I’m on the penthouse level,” she tells you after pressing a button on the wall of the elevator. “It’s nothing fancy. Comfortable enough when I come home from an assignment, and for my—” Quanxi goes silent. You notice, but don’t press. The elevator chimes, announcing their arrival to the topmost level, and the doors open. “This way.”

There’s a keypad on the door, for which Quanxi types a particularly long code into before it beeps at them to enter. Whereas you take off your own boots and set them aside, Quanxi toes hers off and kicks them to the side, knocking yours over.

“A drink?” Quanxi offers.

“… water is fine.”

The penthouse is minimalist and simple, as its owner mentioned it would be. A simple living area full of couches and irregularly shaped chairs; a simple bedroom, raised up, across the room in a loft space. The bathroom and kitchen end up being the fanciest of the space, full of shining metal appliances and smooth surfaces, as white as the moon, itself.

There are but a few adornments and decorations, and you find that across the apartment, there are only a handful of photographs framed and sitting atop a long cabinet, two of which had been turned down— you recall Quanxi doing so as she’d entered ahead of you. Not one to pry — you know just as well as anyone what dredging up old memories does to a person — and with Quanxi busying herself in her kitchen, you cross over to them and quickly tip them up. Both have the woman pressed between four other girls, all with varyingly unexplainable appearances — why are her brains exposed? — but they all easily express their fondness for Quanxi.

“It’s like you’ve never been invited into someone’s home before,” Quanxi suddenly calls from around the corner. You flinch, and without making eye contact, set the frames back down with care. “It should go without me having to say the words “don’t touch anything unnecessary”.”

“Sorry,” you say.

Quanxi sighs, and extends her arm to hand the stranger a glass of clear liquid. “It’s fine. Just don’t touch them again. And try not to get curious enough that you want to ask about… them.”

You accept the glass, nodding, and take a generous gulp from it, immediately reeling.

“This isn’t water,” you say, swallowing thickly, your throat catching from the burn.

“It’s baijiu. Figured you could probably use some to relax while you’re here.” You instantly cough.

“Relax?”

“It’s not like you’ll be able to figure anything out tonight, not this late. And, not if you’re still wired into fight or flight mode. Drink this. If you’re hungry, there’s food in the fridge you can help yourself to. The bathroom is around the corner. Go and shower. I’ll grab you a change of clothing.”

Not that it’d been so severely important to, but you silently admit to her observations. Being sent stuck here and almost immediately thrust into one-sided combat against this strange woman, to being invited to her home for reprieve, has kept you tiptoeing on a jagged edge, teetering more to one side than the other. It’s discomforting. Unfamiliar.

You down the clear liquid in the glass before stalking into Quanxi’s bathroom, quick to strip yourself of your clothing before stepping into the shower. Beginning to scrub away the day’s grime from your body with a sudsy cloth, you realize you’ve yet to feel this calm thus far— must be the baijiu, you assume.

With the glass of the shower all fogged up from the steam, you don’t notice Quanxi standing in the doorway when you finally exit it. Unfocused, you jump, the towel in your hand almost slipping out of your grasp.

“I’m beginning to think,” you start, huffing out a flustered breath, “that you’re the lonely one between us.”

“Perhaps I am.” The ice in her own glass clinks against it when she takes a sip, watching you start to pat yourself dry. “I won’t argue with you. I never thought I would feel like this, even after losing them. They were only Fiends, after all. Not entirely human.”

“... does one have to be “entirely human” for someone to love them?”

“… I forgot who I was saying this to,” Quanxi muses, mostly to herself. “You’re young, after all. Insightfulness comes easier to each new generation of life.”

“Something like that,” you halfheartedly confirm, dragging the towel down each of your legs. You sigh— avoiding certain conversations may not be as easy as you’d once thought with this woman, the involvement of alcohol perhaps making it even more of a difficult probability. “Where I’m from… in my time… in my version of Earth, we don’t have different species of humans. But to be loved by anyone, by anything, even by someone non-human, is a joy, and an honour. Don’t justify them being Fiends so you don’t have to grieve over them. And… just be glad you can remember everything about them.”

She smiles back, but it’s distant; spurious. You know full well what the look is for, and decide it’s unfair to call the woman the only lonely one between them, after all.

Quanxi pushes herself off the door’s frame, stumbling very slightly out of her awkward stance.

“I was only in here for ten minutes. How did you manage to get drunk so quickly?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk,” Quanxi swears. “This is my first glass… and I’m a bit of a heavyweight. I just figure I should share some of my vulnerability with you since you’re naked in my home right now. Seems like a fair trade to me.”

You look up at her, having wrapped your head in the towel, and around the washroom.

“Your clothes. Right. I forgot to bring them in. They’re out here.”

“Could you go and grab them?”

“You’re coming back out here anyway, right? Just come and change out here.”

Your eyes narrow. The woman’s already seen her as nude as the day she’d been born, and from her own words, she now lives alone, the existence of those four girls in the photos seemingly otherwise erased from the apartment save for those photos. Being on the penthouse level on one of the tallest buildings around, it’d be unlikely for any of the neighbouring buildings to see—

“You’re overthinking it,” Quanxi calls out. “Is that something you do when you drink alcohol?”

Your attempt at sliding past her in the doorway fails, the taller of the two having lifted her arm to stop you.

“Is it?”

You sigh. Quanxi’s lip lifts into a small smile, and she drops her arm to let you pass and enter the kitchen.

“Is this where you assert yourself on me, and I lower myself into showing you my “gratitude”?” You slip on the folded burgundy tee from the counter, mentally cursing at the woman for supplying you with such a useless piece of fabric, the offending material barely reaching your navel; you shiver. “I’ve read enough fiction in my lifetime to recognize this cliché.”

“Then you must’ve read a crazy amount of sapphic erotica throughout your journey across the stars.” You shake your head and reach for the pants, ignoring Quanxi’s presence at your side. “No,” she answers, “though, I’m glad my intentions go without me having to say anything. A harmless, wordless invitation to share in a little bit of skinship with me. I won’t force you into it, but…”

In still being bare from the hips down, Quanxi dares to smooth a hand across your waist that curls an arm around your middle, and you freeze, your cool skin quick to grow warm under her touch.

“Quanxi—””It’s not lowering yourself to enjoy yourself,” she muses, right next to your ear. You blame your immodesty for the chill that sweeps down your spine. “Let me take your mind out of the stars for the night.”

It’s the alcohol. You’re drunk, too. That’s the only reason. Trying to rationalize your acceptance of the situation with false realities only embarrasses you further— you aren’t drunk. You can’t even call yourself slightly inebriated, not yet. 

Then perhaps it’s your subconscious telling you to cave to Quanxi’s suggestion. To give into the strange offer of reprieve this Earth finds itself willing to give to you.

Her hands travel, soft and featherlight, across your now scalding flesh, and beneath the waistband of the sweats she’d intended on giving you. Loosening them from around your hips, she pushes them down until they slip around your ankles, and with a hand poised at the toned sculpt of her abdomen, she presses you into leaning against the counter behind you.

“Just stand there and stay pretty for me.”

Quanxi doesn’t waste another moment; not particularly keen to stop her, you lean into the hand that cups your jaw, allows her to fit her lips between yours, tries to remember the last time you’d ever kissed or had ever been kissed, and fails. With no other thoughts to keep you tethered to creating distractions for yourself, you keen forward and shift your weight onto a single foot. A small laugh huffs against your lips.

“You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you,” she murmurs. You’re about to argue the opposite, that you’d only been acting agreeable for their best interest, and open your mouth; ever the opportunist, Quanxi is quick to curl her tongue to sweep along the inside of your lips before you get the chance to utter a single word. You flinch, but your own hand stays holding Quanxi’s hips against your own.

Her thighs are thick, discovering them to be more muscular than you’d first presumed when one of them press between your own and shift upward. You gasp, a soft sound, when the coarse material of Quanxi’s denim begins sliding back and forth along your bare clit; you tremble, and grips her sides just a little firmer.

“Ah, see? You don’t have to use your words to show it.”

A hand slips around to hold your neck, Quanxi pulling her mouth hard against yours, and you moan, your breaths shared with each tilt of their head and each swirl of their tongues around the other dense, purposeful. Was it the alcohol making your mind fuzzier? Making your judgment clouded? You hadn’t yearned for something this hard in much too long a time, though it did go without saying— yes, I’m enjoying myself.

You shiver at the sudden soft pecks and harsher licks at the curve of your neck, and Quanxi grinds your crotch against her bouncing thigh a little more insistently when you’d begun to shudder.

“You’re close, right? So soon?” Reluctantly, you find yourself nodding. Quanxi hums. “Not here.” She lowers her knee almost too abruptly, and releases. Your head snaps her way, frowning.

“This isn’t how I want you to come,” she explains, decidedly tugging down her own pants and kicking them away. “Too simple.”

“Why did you stop?”

“It’s only for a moment,” Quanxi assures you. She takes one of your hands and begins pulling you toward the staircase to the loft, quick to guide you along to sitting at the edge of her plush bedding. “Don’t look so frustrated, hm?”

You scoff, but it’s choked, heart still racing from your formerly impending, now lost, orgasm.

“More condescending words of yours,” you mutter, “just like earlier.”

“Condescending words from earlier…” Quanxi pauses. “Do you mean when I called you a “good girl”?”

“Yes. It was patronizing.”

“And… if I were to call you a good girl now?” Quanxi releases her hold around your wrist and, before you can pull them back (whether you were going to or not), fits her fingers through both of yours and kneels between your legs, spreading them further apart with her shoulders. Your entire body flinches, and your arms both jerk upwards with nowhere to go. “Is that still me being condescending? Or…” Quanxi tilts her head forward once more, and licks a stripe upward against your quiver. “… maybe it’s patronizing now?”

“Y-You’ve… well surpassed the definition of both of those words,” you groan.

“Maybe.” Quanxi’s tongue curls, catching on the hood of your clit. You gasp. “But look at you, my little time-traveling friend, behaving so well for me. I think this deserves a little bit of praise; a small reward.”

“Stop talking about it and give it to me, then.”

Quanxi doesn’t speak again, having suddenly busied herself with the wet kisses she supplied to your cunt. Your eyes fly upward to meet hers, tongue flicking so frustratingly calculated between your folds. You stir, arms twitching impatiently in her hold with nowhere to go— until she releases them again. Unable to help herself, you lurch forward, one hand pressing the woman between your thighs deeper into you, the other clawing at the sheets beneath you. When Quanxi goes to mumble something, not bothering to remove her tongue from against you, you send a hazy glare her way.

“Don’t talk, j-just—!” Quanxi’s grip shifts, instead to wind her arms around your thighs when your squirming becomes too uncontrolled. You cry out, a sharp noise that ends up startling you back into biting down on your own lip, as Quanxi suckles on your swollen bud. It’s impossible to stop her, to want to stop her; your hold on her head lessens, though it’s only when your legs begin to tremble in their attempt to fold shut, and when your voice catches in her throat that Quanxi finally pulls away, lips and chin glistening under the moonlight and hair slightly disheveled, and you groan again, a noise that grows progressively louder and more frustrated as the blonde rises back onto her feet.

“I never specified if you’d be the only one getting rewarded,” Quanxi points out, chuckling. “Keep your legs open.”

You manage a frown, but still hold your thighs apart for Quanxi to straddle you. Your hips buck, feeling the sudden pressure, the sudden heat and slick press against her; Quanxi doesn’t waste another moment, having been denying even herself the pleasure she’d now twice ripped away from you— punishment for the frustratingly short answers you’d provided throughout the evening.

Hands falling next to your head to grip the blanket, she rocks forward, lower back instinctively arching upon the friction finally reaching her— Quanxi moans, and you, impatient and shuddering once more, reach behind Quanxi to grab at her ass to pull her tighter into you.

“So eager,” Quanxi groans. Jerkily, she forces your shirt up over your breasts, nipples pert from your arousal, and dips her head down to wrap her lips around one, tongue swirling.

“Quanxi, I—” she pops away, gasping, hips still gyrating and pelvis grinding into yours with such a desperate fervour; she suddenly swivels herself and takes hold of your leg from under her knee, bringing it upwards. “Quanxi—”

“Go on, then,” Quanxi pants. Both mouths dripping, she takes her tongue and drags it up your calf. “Come for me, my little time-traveler.”

You choke on your breath, and your hands seize for Quanxi to hold her in position while you suddenly flip her around, grinding down on her, instead. Teeth gritted, Quanxi pulls and tugs at the sheets, moaning with the sweet relief of her own orgasm, and you tremble, crying out soft and low from the washing over of — finally, finally — your own pleasure.

Spent, you huff at the one-eyed woman when you lower herself down fully onto her pelvis. “Don’t… call me that ever again.”

Quanxi’s laugh is one of disbelief, and has you reddening above her.

“I was supposed to have an early night… I can always sleep on the plane.”

© nc-vb 2024 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[smallpeniscollective]

Smokin’

Eddie Munson x Reader (18+)

Summary: (reader smokes weed with her crush Eddie, lowered inhibitions lead to shared secrets, smut ensues)

Word Count: 5.8k

Content: she/her pronouns, drugs (don’t do drugs, kids), some cursing, sexual content, p in v sex, unprotected sex, praise during sex, pet names (princess, baby, sweet thing), loss of virginity (reader’s)

Minors DNI pls !!!

Part 2

*~*~*

All she could focus on was the ticking of the clock, digging deeper into her psyche and driving her absolutely crazy that class was not over yet. She wasn’t a bad student, in fact, she did very well in her English class, but right now all she could think about was meeting Eddie out by the abandoned wooden table in the woods, just far enough from the school so nobody would bother them. She was downright jonesing for some of that za.

It didn’t hurt that she had had a crush on the school freak for a while. They shared the senior Calculus class, and if it wasn’t for her letting him brazenly cheat off of all of her work, he wouldn’t even be passing. In the period before her English—the Calculus class—she had slid a note to Eddie that read, Woods after last period? He answered with a subtle nod, and that was that. They had plans to make a sweet deal.

The bell rang, and she scooped up her bag and almost ran out of the classroom, jump-scaring a few peers as she zoomed past them still in their seats. She slipped through the halls towards the exit, darting past all of the high school trope groups and the group-less people who were getting excited for the weekend.

It was a sunny day outside with small fluffy clouds, but still a briskness to the air, making her realize she had left her sweater in her English class in her rush. Well, she thought, I guess it’ll be in the lost and found on Monday.

She snuck past the track field, managing to stay unnoticed by all of the students leaving the school at the same time. Trudging through the forest, she made a game of it to make as little sound as she could, staring at her feet and avoiding twigs and leaves that looked particularly crunchy. She almost won the game in her head, just about to make it to the wooden table...

She hit something sturdy, immediately bouncing backwards and landing hard on her ass. “Ow,” she reacted, then looking up to meet the eyes of the man, the myth, the legend. Eddie Munson.

“Sorry, was I in your way?” he joked, extending out an arm to help her up off of the ground. She accepted it, taking his hand and feeling him yank her up with such ease that it gave her a small headrush coming up so fast.

“Sorry, I was looking at the ground,” she mumbled, following him to join him at the table.

“Yeah, I noticed you do that,” he said. Even when he didn’t mean to, everything he said sounded like flirting, and it only made her more nervous around him. He sat across from her, opening his box and keeping its contents out of view of her. “So... same as usual?”

“Mmm, I think I want more this time. How much can I get for thirty-five?” she asked, pulling a crumpled wad of cash out of her jeans pocket.

“Woah, that’s a lot. You trying to stave off our little visits?” he jokingly asked, although the fastest little glint of sadness shone in his big brown eyes.

“Oh, no, you know these are the highlights of my week,” she mused back, flashing a cheeky grin that had him smiling back immediately. He pulled a bag of bud out of his box, and it was a lot; her eyes were glued to the hefty amount of weed in the plastic bag. She could feel his stare burning her skin as she struggled to meet eyes again. “How much would I have to pay you to roll for me? I’m just not as good at it as you are.”

“Princess, you know flattery is the way to my heart,” he openly flirted, “For you? I’d roll your whole bag for free. Only price is that you’d have to pick up your goods from me later at my place, it’s gonna take some time to roll all of this up.”

The pet name caused her cheeks to burn, and he must have noticed the effect that that had on her because his grin turned deviously large. She managed to stutter out, “Y-yeah, that’d be c-cool.”

“C-cool?” he mocked, eating up her nervousness and having it boost his confidence. “Don’t tell me you're clamming up on me, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes, releasing her tension with a breathy chuckle. “Don’t play dumb with me, Munson, you know you’re hot,” she joked, hoping he would drop the subject of her anxiety if she called out the reason for it.

“You think I’m hot?” he asked. His tone had changed from his usual flirtatiousness to actual intrigue. She dropped the cash on the table in front of him, hoping to escape the mess she had created.

“So, where do you live? And when do you want me to meet you there?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, giving her a look that said, So, we’re just gonna skip over what you just admitted? Her unmoving stare answered his question and he moved on, taking her money off of the table and answering her with, “The trailer park. I’m the big silver one. Van outside. You’ll know it when you see it. And... how about nine?”

“Nine’s good,” she uttered, swiftly turning away from the table and taking off in a blushing rush, tucking her hair behind her ears as she power-walked away from the table as fast as she could.

“Alright, see you at nine, princess!” she heard Eddie call from behind.

*~*~*

Nine p.m. had finally rolled around, and she managed to find his trailer in the trailer park. She recognized his van, sweeping her fingers along the side of it as she made her way to his front door. Or, the only door of his trailer.

Admittedly, she had gotten a little dolled up. She didn’t change her outfit, for that would have been way too obvious, but she did add a touch of makeup, just enough to make her eyes pop in the way she likes and make her lip look extra kissable.

Taking in a deep breath, she knocked softly on the door three times. The third knock was cut off by the door swinging open and Eddie’s tall figure stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey there, sweet thing, you come here often?” he flirted, tilting his head to the side and looking her up and down obnoxiously. The exaggeration of his attempt at flirting drew a giggle out of her, rewarding Eddie with a sense of satisfaction at making her laugh.

“Got the goods?” she asked, taking a step towards the door, and he moved out of her way to let her in. She scanned over the piles of cassettes and VHS tapes, noting his abundance of horror movies and metal music, which she had expected. The smell of cigarettes and dust lingered in the air, which she didn’t mind at all. She’d never admit it because of all the medical propaganda her family dumped on her, but she thought it was cool that he smoked cigarettes. She had seen him lighting up a few times before in his van while leaving school, and she just couldn’t deny what seeing that little stick hanging from his lips did to her.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about the mess,” he said, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. She had never seen him be bashful before, and heart did a little leap as she had found it endearing.

“It’s fine, Eddie. I can promise my bedroom is much worse,” she joked, still looking around his trailer. She hadn’t realized it, but he noticed that that was the first time she had ever referred to him as Eddie. To everyone but his club, he was always Munson, always the freak. His heart did a leap too in that moment.

“Oh! I got your goods in here,” he said, dipping away to fetch the baggie of joints he had pre-rolled for her. Damn, he was right. That was a lot of joints. She stared at the bag in awe.

Being in his home must have given her a small sense of confidence, because she proceeded to nervously ask him, “Um... if it’s not too much to ask, would you like to smoke one with me...?”

He stared at her with an indecipherable expression. She couldn’t tell if he was deciding for or against smoking with her, and she broke eye contact and looked down as a nervous habit. She started to backtrack, “Y-you don’t have to, I just—”

“Fuck, yeah. I’d love to.” He dropped a big dimply grin, infecting her with the giggles.

He opened the bag and pulled one of the neatly rolled joints out before zipping it closed and passing it back to her. She put the baggie of joints in her bag quickly, pulling out her own small bright blue handheld lighter. She gave the lighter to Eddie before mentioning, “Don’t forget to give that back, it’s my only lighter.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess,” he answered smugly before extending an arm in a silent invitation to sit on the couch, and she obliged. She sank down on the old couch, and it felt more comfortable than her own couch at home. He plopped down next to her hard, rocking her and the couch, before holding the joint out for her to take. “You go first,” he said, tilting his head down to look at her with a devilish grin.

“Gladly,” she said, leaning forward and catching the end of the joint on her lips, taking it from him without using her hands. “Light me up?” she asked through the joint on her lips.

“Gladly,” he returned, using her wording against her. He held the little blue lighter to the end of the joint, flicking the gear and igniting it. She hovered over the flame for a moment before pulling back to breathe it in, puffing on the joint heavily before Eddie swiftly grabbed it from her lips. 

The burn in her lungs felt like a warm tingle spreading through the inside of her chest, but it was the burn in her throat that made her cough. She coughed an embarrassing amount, her face and eyes turning red from it. “Hey, it’s supposed to be puff puff pass,” she whined in a manner that conveyed she wasn’t serious, but her mangled voice was what made Eddie laugh.

He gave a dark chuckle before saying, “Like you’d say no to me, sweetheart.” He held her gaze intensely as he hit the joint, taking in a deep puff before letting out a billowing cloud of smoke, blowing the smoke into her face teasingly. She laughed at his gesture, waving away the cloud.

After they had gone back and forth, taking turns of the joint until it was just a roach, she put the roach down on the ashtray on his coffee table. Eddie had some of his music playing as they were both leaning back against the couch, heads staring at the ceiling as they felt the weed kick in.

She began to feel fuzzy, her body feeling so heavy like it was sinking further into the couch. She let out a light stoner laugh as she felt the tingles spread down to her fingertips and toes, feeling her brain swirl around like the room was spinning. The voice of her consciousness sounded out loud, and her speaking voice sounded too quiet like it was in her head. But her absolute favorite part of getting high was the sense that she truly had no other care in the world, just bliss and fuzziness and oversaturated colors. It felt like peace.

“This shit fucks so hard, Eddie,” she said, her brain confused to if she even said those words aloud.

She lazily tilted her head towards him, watching with heavy eyes as he stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t help but stare. It was definitely the weed heightening this thought, but she couldn’t help but notice how pretty he was. His big brown eyes with the long eyelashes, his dimples that suited his cheeks so well, his sharp jaw and strong chin, and oh, those plump, kissable lips.

“Eddie...?” she whispered, pulling his gaze from the ceiling to her.

“Yeah, princess?”

His eyes were so red. She would have laughed if she wasn’t about to say, “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?”

He laughed slower than usual, so she could tell he was deep in his high like she was. Their conversation felt like it was happening underwater, and his voice tickled her ears as he replied, “Damn it, babe, I was supposed to call you pretty first.”

She felt the laughter bubble in her chest first, slowly erupting from her mouth, her brain feeling disconnected from the process. “Beat you to it. Sucks to suck, Munson.”

His eyes drooped, and he glanced at her lips before looking back into her eyes. “You are, y’know. Pretty.”

She looked away out of habit before giving a huff. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” he said, turning his body so he was facing her. “I was surprised you even wanted to smoke with me. Hell, I’m surprised you even wanted to buy from me. The cute girl in my Calculus class wanted to buy from me? How did I get so lucky?”

She turned her body so she was facing him, leaning her swirling head against the couch. Her eyeballs felt fuzzy as she looked up at him with doe eyes. “You think I’m the cute girl in class? You dummy, I think you’re the cute boy in class. Why do you think I let you cheat off of my work?”

His eyes stared deeply into hers, and he glanced at her lips briefly again. This time, she returned the favor by glancing at his. She felt her heart racing in her chest, every thump echoed through her body until her extremities felt numb. He placed his large hand on the side of her face, and the coolness of the rings were like a shock to her as he swiped over her lips with his thumb. His touch felt electrifying, as if every nerve cell in her body was magnetized to his skin. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, in the softest tone she had ever heard from his lips.

“You fucking better,” she joked and was immediately pulled in. When their lips met, it felt like fireworks were going off inside of her. Tingles shot up the back of her neck and crept up the base of her skull, capturing her in pure bliss as Eddie’s lips melted into her own. She could taste the weed and hint of cigarettes in his mouth, and she could hear the heavy breathing from his nose against her face. It was all she ever dreamed of, plus some. She had never enjoyed kissing other boys, mushing mouths always felt so awkward and unnatural. But with Eddie, now, all she wanted was to feel the soft fleshy wet mess of tongue against tongue. Her heightened sensations from the weed mixed with her established crush on Eddie had her already giving out soft moans into his mouth, and she could just feel him smile against her mouth in return. She felt his big warm hands place themselves on her waist, and she leaned in further, pressing her chest against his.

She didn’t even feel when her hands had moved to grip his Hellfire Club shirt until he pulled back. “Damn, why have we never done this before?” he said in a deep husky voice.

“Because I get nervous,” she said, feeling the words spill out before she had time to think of a proper response. She looked down and fiddled with the neckline of his shirt before saying, “And because this weed’s got me feeling brave, Eddie.”

“Just how brave are we talking?” he asked, thinking she wouldn’t notice his quick glance down at her body. She did notice. In that moment, her body felt hot to the touch, and then the weed did something it had never done before. Maybe she had just never been horny and high at the same time, but the way the pot in her system sent her body into maximum overdrive at the way Eddie eyed her body had her throbbing hard in her jeans. Her nerves were ablaze everywhere, especially there, and she could just feel her underwear becoming increasingly more damp the longer she stared at him.

“Really brave,” she muttered, unable to speak above a whisper due to the intense craving her body was feeling. He flashed that dimply grin like he knew she couldn’t resist it and moved his hands to cup her face. She let her neck go lax, melting into his touch and letting him hold the weight of her head. His hands felt so hot against her face, and then he leaned in so close that his lips brushed against hers as he spoke.

“You ever fucked a future rockstar?” he inquired, his eyes looking darker and deeper than ever.

A chill ran down her spine at his words, and a let out a shaky exhale before admitting, “I’ve haven’t ever fucked.”

He immediately dropped his charismatic persona, pulling back with a look of concern in his eyes. “I’d offer, but I don’t think it would be right to... deflower you... in such a state...” He began to trail off, but she put a finger to his lips.

“Eddie, right now, I’ve never wanted anything else so god damn bad,” she said, unable to take her eyes off of his perfect plump lips. “Only reason I never have is because I’ve never liked anyone else this much.”

She watched as his lips morphed from a concerned flat line back into that devilish smile she liked to see so much. It infected her, making her smile wide as well, and the tip of her finger felt like it was buzzing as she traced along his smiling lips with her finger. The underwater feeling returned as she leaned up to bring his lips back into a kiss, laying back on the couch and pulling him down with her so that he was laying on top of her and kissing her.

“Damn, you really do get brave when you smoke,” he chuckled, and the deep chuckle rumbled in her ears as she caught his lips again, opening her mouth to invite him into hers. His tongue slid across hers, feeling hot and slimy, and she loved it, returning the gesture. She felt him slowly drop all of his body weight onto hers, and the pressure against her lower abdomen caused her to let out a small gasp into his mouth. He felt her gasp, taking a sense of pride in being the one to make her feel this way and pressed himself against her again, feeling his own excitement start to build.

She spread her knees apart, allowing him to lay between her legs, and he willingly obliged to taking the position, sliding his denim-clad crotch against hers. The friction of him pressing the seam of her jeans into her elicited the smallest moan from her, and Eddie repeated this against but harder, fulling grinding into her as their mouths danced and his clothed erection rubbed against her. Her fingers found their way into his long hair, her nails accidentally scratching against his scalp, making him groan into her mouth. The sounds and feelings that he was giving her welded together in a fuzzy entanglement, making her already spinning head feel like she was on air. She felt his warm hands snake down from her face down to the hem of her shirt, dipping his fingers underneath the fabric to brush against her hot skin. The sudden coldness of the rings made her slightly jump, and he pulled back, worry apparent on his face. His eyes nonverbally asked, Is this too much?

“Sorry, your rings are just cold,” she giggled, before taking the initiative to lift her own shirt over her head, revealing the black bra underneath. Truth be told, after school she had switched into her fancier undergarments in the hopes that something would happen between them. And she was appreciative to her past self for making that decision. He stared in awe at her chest, all pushed together by the tight black bra and looking extra plump in the dim trailer lighting. He took the chance to bury his face in her cleavage, sucking and smacking on the soft flesh, leaving little reddish purple spots in his wake, causing her to moan and lightly buck her hips up. She was already turned on, but now she just felt like an animal in heat, all wet and needy for him. He pulled a nipple out of its bra cup and took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue softly on the hardened bud, and she felt waves of tingles flow through her body, half from the high and half from the pleasure he was bringing her just from sucking on her naked skin. When she had gripped his hair so hard she was worried she’d accidentally yank it out, he grinned against her soft skin, just knowing how he was affecting her untouched body.

“That feel good, princess?” he whispered, releasing her nipple from his mouth, pulling back to look in her eyes. He had never seen her, or anyone, look so desperate and needy. Hell, she would have begged if he told her to. She looked up at him with pleading doe eyes, and he just melted at the sight. “C’mon, baby, use your words.” His deep voice dripped like honey into her ears, and she felt the shift in her core that made her need some friction down there.

She whispered back, “Please keep touching me.”

He chuckled and with a teasing voice said, “Oh, baby, you think that is me touching you? You don’t even know.”

He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, pulling them down her thighs until she lifted her legs above his head so that he could pull them off of her calves. He threw the jeans on the floor next to her shirt, keeping her legs up with his hands. She didn’t realize she was panting as he slid his hands down her legs, letting them drop on either side of him while he gazed tenderly at her damp panties.

“Already so wet for me, baby? That’s so sweet of you,” he teased, hooking his finger under the wet patch and pulling her underwear to the side. She gawked at him unabashedly as he swiped his fingers up her wet slit, his fingers feeling cold against her heat. She whimpered at the cold sensation, accidentally bucking her hips. The high had left her brain and traveled south, making her body feel abuzz as he rubbed up and down her slit a couple of times, barely grazing the sensitive nub at the top.

“God, you’re so hot,” she heard him say, but her eyes screwed shut at the sensation of her throbbing cunt being touched so gently. When she felt a finger prod her hole, she gasped, letting him know she was very ready to be entered. A thick finger entered her, and she moaned loudly as he pushed his finger all the way in, his thumb still rubbing up and down. He slowly pulled out and pushed back in his finger, choosing to add a second one. The second finger made her feel the slight stretch, and she moaned louder at the sensation. He started pumping his fingers in and out of her, starting a new building sensation in her core. The faster he pumped, the more he bumped that sensitive nub with his thumb, and that feeling inside of her felt like something deep was about to explode. She unashamedly rutted her hips against his hand, letting out more whimpers and moans than she ever had before in her life.  And just as she teetered the edge of that sinfully delicious explosion, he stopped completely, pulling his fingers out of her and leaving her a panting, soaking mess.

Her throat hitched, releasing an audible whine, making Eddie laugh. He leaned over her, his painfully hard but fully covered erection hovering over her sopping heat, and said, “Now see, baby, that was me touching you.”

She was speechless and desperate, needing any sort of attention back on her tingling loins. “Will you please fuck me?” she timidly asked, relinquishing any morsel of control she had and completely throwing the ball in his court.

“Of course, princess,” he said with a wink. He paused to sit up and look around the small living room of the trailer before declaring, “But not here.”

“Not here?” she breathed out.

“C’mere, we’re going to my room,” he said, lifting himself quickly off of the couch before turning around to swoop down and suddenly lift her off of the cozy furniture, bridal-style. She reveled in the romance of it all, feeling most definitely like a princess with her handsome knight in shining armor, freely laughing as he carried her to his little room.

Eddie’s bedroom smelled a lot more like weed than his living room, and she could guess where he smoked most of the time. Metal and rock posters lined the walls, and towers of cassettes, books, and VHS tapes littered the floor.

He ducked down to lay her down gently on the bed before yanking his Hellfire club shirt over his head quickly and tossing it on a pile of discarded clothes on the floor. She stared at his bare torso, admiring his tattoos, and he just ate it up. He smiled before dropping himself down on the bed over her. “You ready for more, sweetheart?”

"Yes,” she blurted out with zero hesitation, eagerly nodding and eyeing the tent in his jeans hungrily. He followed her line of sight, smirking to himself when he realized she was staring straight at his boner. He leaned back, looking down to undo his jeans before he shimmied them off, letting the tent in his boxers swing free, before throwing his jeans onto the pile of clothes to join his shirt. He then resumed his place, crawling over her as she laid back on his bed, his clothed erection grazing her legs and then her abdomen as he climbed up her body. Using his forearms to hover over her, she dug her fingers into his hair and pulled him into a steamy kiss. As their mouths meshed together again, he steadily lowered himself so that their half-naked bodies were flush against each other, and she could feel his stiffness nestle right into the crotch of her panties, making her let out a shaky breath.

He slithered his large hands down her body before reaching her underwear, hooking his fingers into the sides before pulling from the kiss to ask, “Can I take these off?”

“Only if you say please,” she joked, mentally slapping herself for choosing this moment to toss in a joke. But, like the good sport he was, Eddie was quick to respond.

“Please, oh please, may I take thy panties off?” he mused back, but looked confounded when he saw her flinch. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re very hot, Eddie, but please don’t use the word panties. It just feels so weird when guys say it.”

“Panties.”

“Eddie, I’m serious. It feels icky.”

“Panties.”

“Dude!”

“Panties!” he yelled, waving his hands in her face and laughing hard at the cringing expression on her face. She couldn’t help but join in his laugh, being able to look at their conversation in a different light, and seeing how ridiculous they sounded.

She sighed, shaking her head in an endeared manner as she said, “Fine. Thou may remove mine panties,” returning the joke of Old English speak.

He gave an exaggerated groan and said, “God, you’d do so well in DnD. That’s so hot.”

“Ist thou removing mine panties, or what?” she asked flatly, hoping to get back on track to their sexual shenanigans.

“Oh! Right, yes,” he said before theatrically yanking down her underwear and tossing them over his shoulder. All of the laughing and giggling stopped when he laid eyes on her sopping cunt. She could just see his erection strain against the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulled them down, letting his boner spring free, and his length slapped against her thigh. She hadn’t expected it, but the boy was hung. She gawked at his long extremity, and he let her, taking pride in her jaw dropping. She looked back up into his eyes and smiled when he asked, “You ready?”

“Mhm,” she mumbled before wrapping her hand around his member, but he put his hand over hers to stop her, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Woah, wait, do we need a condom?” he asked, gingerly stroking his thumb over her hand.

She shook her head, “I’m on the pill, Eddie.”

He grinned in response, before taking the reins to line the tip up to her still-soaking entrance. When he started to push in, she felt the swirling feeling coming back to her head, and she couldn’t tell if she was still so high or if this was a new feeling, being already cock-drunk on Eddie. The stretch of him felt sharp for a moment, but she felt too blissful to react to it, pulling his head down to attach her lips to his once more. Their mouths hung open against each other’s as he fully sheathed himself in her, and this time she did let a small whimper of pain escape. Her pain immediately dissolved into pleasure as she adjusted to his size.

When he began to move inside of her, starting slow as he pulled out and pushed back in ever so gently, she was still a moaning mess, moaning against his open mouth.

“That feel good, baby?” he asked, and his words had never felt so sugary sweet. All she could do was moan in response, her moan raising in pitch as it caught in her throat. He broke their kiss to watch her face, her expression conveying euphoria as he slid in and out of her. Her tight walls felt so good on his cock; he would have finished then and there if he wasn’t so focused on her. He snuck a hand down between their bodies, searching for her sensitive little nub, and once he found it and began drawing small circles around it with his finger, she could feel that building sensation return. And he could tell from her moans getting progressively louder. He wanted her first time to be everything she could have wished for, so he started to pick up his pace and thrusted harder and faster into her, keeping his finger steady on her clit.

Sparks were shooting through her body, centered around her lower abdomen, and she wrapped her legs around Eddie to keep him closer, even though she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. The steady circling around her clit became sloppy as he let himself pound into her hard, and she felt his member reach impossible depths inside of her. The faster and harder pace of his cock sliding in and out of her, stretching her from the inside out, had her digging her nails hard into Eddie’s shoulder blades as she felt her hips begin to chase that tension building in her. She let herself get lost in the pleasure of it all, the tingles in her brain all the way down to her fingers and toes mixed with the waves of pleasure coming from her abdomen had her toes curling and her eyes squeezed shut. She felt her walls begin to squeeze tighter as the tension inside of her began to reach its peak, like a string about to snap.

She suddenly felt her face being grabbed by a strong hand, her jaw entirely encapsulated. “Look at me,” his voice demanded, and she opened her eyes pitifully, giving him the eye contact he wanted. Eddie had always been so silly, such a tease. It was shocking yet so deeply arousing to hear such sternness in his voice. “I wanna see it in your face when I make you come.”

“Eddie,” she whimpered, “I think I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, I can feel it. Be a good girl and come for me.”

And with his words, that string inside of her snapped, and she let out a squealing moan as she experienced her orgasm in waves, feeling her walls pulsate and stretch over his cock while her body went completely lax. He continued to pound through it all, letting out aggressive grunts as he thrusted through the clenching of her walls, giving her continuous echoes of her orgasm until his pace stuttered. He released a gentle moan with his own release, prolonging it with extra pushes into her until he felt his own hot liquid seep out of her tight hole that was clenched around his member. He pulled out slowly, and she whined at the sudden emptiness inside of her.

“God damn,” he huffed with a tired smile before dropping his body onto hers, burying his face in her naked chest. She giggled at this, playing with his hair and scratching her nails over his scalp.

They stayed like that for a good long moment, basking in their post-coital bliss, until she noticed the clock next his bed. She read the time with a gasp. “Oh my god, it’s like three in the morning! Shit, I gotta get home.”

They climbed out of Eddie’s bed reluctantly, gathering their clothes from his bedroom floor and from the living room floor. They hadn’t spoken a word yet, both too nervous to wreck the good thing they had going, until Eddie couldn’t take the tension anymore. “Okay, so... I guess I’ll see you on Monday?” he asked, not sure of what to say but wanting to desperately to beg to spend more time with her.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, before pausing a long moment to suggest, “or we could hang out like tomorrow, or technically later today... Uh, if you’re not busy...”

He absolutely beamed at her words. She did want to spend more time with him. He felt excitement blossom in his chest as their little situation felt like the beginning of something special. “Tomorrow—er, later today—would be awesome.”

She let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. “Cool.”

“Cool,” he repeated back to her. They fell into silence again, but it was comfortable silence this time.

“I, uh,” she began, gesturing to the door.

“Oh! Yes, of course,” he said, stepping out of her way and opening the door for her. When he opened the door, the cold night air hit her like a ton of bricks and she shivered, regretting leaving her sweater in class earlier that day.

He witnessed her slight shiver, instantly saying, “Wait right here,” before dipping away to grab something from his bedroom. He came back with his iconic denim and leather jacket, offering it to her. “It’s really cold out tonight,” he shrugged, like giving her his jacket was no big deal.

“I can’t take your jacket,” she said, attempting to politely decline.

He hung it on her shoulders and said, “Well, you can give it back later,” both as a way to make her more comfortable but also as a way to express that he hopes she sticks to their plans.

“Okay,” she breathed, “and you’ll have to give back my lighter.”

And with that, she was on her way home with plans to see Eddie tomorrow.

*~*~*

A/N: my first Eddie fic !!! Part of me wants to do a part 2 so bad, but pls let me know how u feel about it omg <3 lov u guys

[felassan]

Just poring over some of the new images. ◕‿◕ DA:TV spoilers under cut.

Elf Warrior Rook, Bellara and Harding engaged in combat. The location looks to be Arlathan (not sure if it's the Arlathan Forest or Arlathan Crater area), outside the ruins of an ancient elvhen building, I guess the temple mentioned in the Game Informer cover story. Rook is mid-swing; Harding looks like she's doing that rogue archer move where they fire arrows then leap/flip backwards[?] and Bellara looks to have just fired a bolt or something of blue magic energy or electricity magic (her specialty) using the gauntlet. blue light emanates from it, there are blue sparks in the air and the orb on the stairs looks like it's crackling with energy. the orb is also surrounded by the golden triangles, something connected to the use of the gauntlet and ancient elven magic/artifacts/tech in general I assume. To Bellara's left are some blue butterflies btw! how pretty!

I have highlighted some things in this image. over Bellara's shoulder, you can see the ears of one of the classic Fen'Harel statues. in the background, in central, priiide of place above the archway/temple door, is the Fen'Harel mosaic from DA:I. (I wonder now, are the concentric circles/repeating rings above his head in that mosaic the Veil motif..?) to his right is the DA:I mosaic of Sylaise. to his left, I can't make out which mosaic it is - if anyone is able to pls let me know? :D and, are these wolf-ear patterns on either side of the door, or am I simply squinting too hard at unremarkable archy shapes hh?

the arch/doorway is the same shape as here (ancient elven architecture feature). on either side of it is a blue lamp-looking thing that to me resemble the ones here (another location with ancient elven ruins). the pattern on buildings that I think looks like wolf ears (...lol) can also be seen on the ruins across the lake in Arlathan Crater.

the focal point of this image is the creature that the team are fighting. I assume it is a demon-infested suit of mechanized armor known as a Sentinel (which are weak to Bellara's electricity magic), as detailed in the Game Informer cover story. gold in color, elfy in design and guarding an ancient elvhen ruin, it's clearly of ancient elven make. the mask of its head extends on either side in two pointed elven ears. its headpiece reminds me of the Evanuris head-shapes, though I'm not sure which one. I wonder if the green light in the gaps between the armor pieces is the energy of the demon animating it, and I wonder what type of demon has inhabited it. in DA:O, we fought suits of Fereldan armor that had been possessed by demons, so it's a phenomenon we have encountered before.

the Sentinel's name, armor design and protective function at a temple remind me of the DA:I Sentinel Elves (concepts one, two, three, showing the similar aesthetics), whom protected the Temple of Mythal. did one derive the name from the other? in ancient Elvhenan, did mechanized suits of armor assist the actual-elf Sentinel guards of temples? did the Sentinel suits actually once encase elves who passed away long ago after the elves lost their immortality (and the armor persisted through the ages but their organic remains have crumbled away to dust with time)? or maybe once upon a time the Evanuris sometimes used the spirits/souls of willing/unwilling elves to power/'possess' the suits in a process similar to the dwarves, golems, and the Anvil of the Void? and if so, could June have been involved in the creation or use of this process..? Master of Crafts, gods of crafts and building. the Sentinel Elves, and the Sentinel armors. like.. you could serve out of love/fear/faith, or willingly at least, or.. not?

the Sentinel's disembodied gold hand reminds me of these elven gold hands. at this point, if you were an Evanuris.. hell, why not make a giant 'statue' of [in this case golden metal rather than stone] armor like the sort the Dead Hand DA:I landmark implies once existed..? (more on the hands here). ancient elven and huge, and very dangerous. it would be a powerful weapon if powered to move by magic. remember in the final battle for Kirkwall, Meredith used her red lyrium-acquired powers to animate the giant golden statues to fight Hawke?

lastly, the war-axe that the Sentinel holds aloft. the negative space in its head creates a triaaangle shape. the non-cutting edge of the axe reminds me of the Evanuris head on the left here (Graphic Design is my passion). and idk, something about the axe reminds me of the new axe-wielding axe-headed red lyrium darkspawn guys. even the branches winding up it from being overgrown remind me of the darkspawn's veiny axe with the different branch-like parts curling into making up the axehead. and like, we know from the Game Informer article that sentinel armors and darkspawn are both found in Arlathan, and darkspawn can be found inside the temple itself.

The file name of this screenshot iirc on Game Informer was "Solas ritual". at the top of a flight of stairs, surrounded by ancient elven statues with the Evanuris head-shapes, Solas holds the knife aloft, using it to wield green Fadey magic or cut a tear in the Veil. do you think this is concept art/storyboarding art of this moment (two) from the DA:TV gameplay reveal video and opening cinematic, or a look back in time to when he created the Veil and sealed the Evanuris away in the first place? on the right hand side of the picture is the statue with Ghil's head-shape. on Solas' left is one which has Elgar'nan's (though interestingly, to me the body of that statue looks animal-like and to have four legs. draconic? dragons were the "shape reserved for the divine" in the Evanuris days..). other Evanuris statue shapes can also be seen in the image.

the big black mass Solas is focusing on in this shot is really interesting.. it reminds me of an asteroid hh. it's black and ominous with an oily-looking surface, pitted, rocky. idk, it gives the impression of something corrupted or something, like a giant Tainted pustule. what it this? the literal outer encasement of the Evanuris' prison? the Game Informer article told us that at the point Rook encounters Solas in the gameplay video, Solas was trying to move Ghil and Elgar'nan to a new prison, as the one he had previously constructed was failing. the 'rock' in this image doesn't look stable. the dents give the impression of holes forming in it and the small pieces of rock flying through the air around it make it look like little chunks of it are crumbling away. it leaves me with the impression that the floating rocks in all the DA:TV key arts and branding/banners etc aren't just representative of 'Fadey stuff, reality as we know it and the Veil are cracking, magic is coming back' but also 'oh no. the prison they were in was failing and cracking'. as an aside I am really curious about what specifically Solas did when he constructed the prison.

Lovely crisp screenshot of Bellara. She's so beautiful, I just love her design sm. it looks like she's in Arlathan here, not sure if it's the Forest or the Crater. I would guess this is from early on in the game when Rook meets Bellara in Arlathan, as detailed in Game Informer. the detailing on her clothing, the patterns and folds of the cloth and everything, is just :D the triangle theme runs through everything, on the bag strap, dotted on her scarf/kerchief, even in the shape of her layered sleeves and things. in this shot we can see that the stone set in the 'shoulder' of the gauntlet has cut, polished surfaces, jewel-like. and the greenish scarf reminds me of Merrill's fashion.. 🥺

curled under the 'lid' of her backpack it looks like a sleeping mat-type thing that you'd take with you when you're camping or hiking, right? like her bedroll. ^^ As with Taash, I really like Bellara's earring and I hope Rook can have earrings/piercings in CC or from items they find in the world. also it looks like the thing I thought was an arrow in a blurrier shot totally isn't, it's a hair accessory (cute!!) in the shape of a halla, you can see the branching horns. I really like that it's golden and not white or silver - it brings to mind the golden halla, Hanal'ghilan, a legendary creature said to visit the Dalish in times of great need. Hanal'ghilan translates as pathfinder, which seems apt for a Veil Jumper who is an explorer that goes on expeditions!

the other thing I loved about this screenshot was that we got to see a clear, front-on look at the design of Bellara's vallaslin. it's so lovely! pretty and intricate. and it makes me really curious and excited to see the designs that will be available to Rook in CC. I wonder which Creator Bellara's pertain to, if any?

Arlathan. Looks like concept art[?]. Super beautiful, Final Fantasy vibes, a high fantastical feel, a bit of whimsy. Reality warping, the telltale golden-orange trees (I feel like Harding in the gameplay video now when she's like "I know these trees" LOL same tho. like, from the days of 'mysterious triangle guys concept art' and the vinyl cover those trees were soo. KNOWABLE hhh). Lakes and waterfalls, ancient elvhen architecture in ruins, the towers with their distinctive curves and tops, floating rocks and chunks of buildings as reality breaks and magic seeps in - look at how the tree in the foreground is all streaky and blurred as everything warps, like it's been half-phased out of existence on this plane. (looks like a silver birch tree btw). in the background, the curved iridescent wall of bright light around one of the ruined buildings looks like the edge of a soap bubble, reminding me of how there are "Veil Bubbles" (pockets of reality or unreality?)

Arlathan. Looks like concept art. Bellara explores ancient elven ruins, and the ruins of reality. with what we're seeing and hearing of Arlathan so far, they're doing the Ruins of Reality and the warping of space-time that we saw in the Veil Jumper issue of DA: The Missing justice. Things in this spot seem to be in particular disarray in this image. some of the floating chunks in this image have the same 'blurring' thing going on as the birch tree in the previous image. in this image there is also a lot of energy and magical power, coalescing around or emanating from what look like a set of gold rings sat atop a tower. I get the sense of motion, that they are spinning rapidly (like helicopter blades). the light is Green, like Veil-fire or Fade-magicky stuff. (in this image, I also got the sense that the gold semicircles floating near the top of the picture are actually part of gold rings, and that these too were mid-motion. that image also has a green glow of something magical.)

Arlathan. Not sure if it's Arlathan Forest or Arlathan Crater specifically. In-game screenshot, another beautiful one at that. Qunari mage Rook, Bellara and Harding explore ancient elven ruins. Bellara looks around all curious. :) the lighting effects and particles are so lovely, everything is suffused in this pretty, soft golden light. on the crumbling archway in the foreground, we can see a repeating triangle pattern as decoration. in this image we can see at least three halla wandering around, two just in front of the party and one on a ledge a bit father back. I'm really curious about the little blue lights that are floating around (Bellara looks to be watching them). they look kinda like pixies or something. 🥺 maybe they are firefly-like bugs or, they seem benign and this is an area where the Veil is thin and there's a lot of magical energy - so maybe they are wisps, two, or something like that? wisps are the weakest spirits, in some cases benign and even aiding mages. they're described as being shimmering orbs of light that are too simple and impressionable to be good or evil.

(For these menu screenshots, to compliment your understanding of what we're looking at, this article is a great read to refresh on. these are the "gigantic spider web-like visuals" Corinne mentioned in that article.)

^ Screenshot showing the skill tree of a Warrior Rook. This Rook is Level 30. The Level cap is 50, so this is a skill tree of a Rook who is about mid-game. I wonder if "Thorne" is this Rook's custom first name, or if it is the set last name of one of the factions Rook can be from? for the skill tree, it looks like we start in the center and then spec outwards as we wish right? at the very center is the core of the Warrior kit. this Rook has invested some of their points in the Slayer specialization. it looks like they are not far from dipping into Reaper too - I wonder if it's possible to sort of multi-spec by dipping into more than one spec 'bubble' like that? we can see that the other spec for Warrior is Champion, that each spec has the symbol for the faction it is tied to next to it, and that there are the same amount of 'points' in the same pattern available to choose from in each spec. there are also places on the skill tree where it looks like Rook can choose to focus on Weapons, Survival and Abilities. these are the three sections that Corinne described the skill grid as being divided into in addition to the specializations in the article. for Warriors, Weapons is weapons-oriented, Abilities is ability-oriented, and Survival is defense-oriented. "So what you might do trying to get to, say, the Reaper specialization is go… Rather than going up through defense into Reaper, I’m going to go down through Ability into Reaper."

I like the art for each of the specs, it's cool!! (see a compilation of them here).

overall I like the skill tree. :) it's pretty/aesthetically-pleasing (constellation-like), and it looks like it's very extensive, with lots of different options and different choices to 'plot' your own 'route' through it depending on what sort of build you're trying to create. there are different shapes of points: small circles, large circles, diamonds, hexagons and some more star-like ones. I'd guess each one corresponds to a different type of ability or boost? and I'm curious to find out more about what those are. :)** from the interview with Corinne, we know that there are abilities, passives, and "traits". (I wonder what the "traits" could be? maybe stuff like "Persuasive", "Charismatic" or "lock-picker"?) we also know that these skills are unique per class, that every level you get a new skill point, and that there are other "side activities" in the game to get skill points from.

(** edit: @morganzephyr reminded me that we do know what these each correspond to, as detailed in this previous article:

"Large circle: Class Diamonds: Abilities Medium circle: Major Passives and Ability Upgrades Small hexagon: Traits Small circle: Minor Passives and Stat Boosts")

we can also compare these final skill trees to the prototype skill tree frame/wire diagram that we were shown at an earlier stage of development in a BioWare blog post and see how the concept has been realized since then. if the color coding on the prototype is still the same, it looks like the points on the tree are arranged in groups/clouds of related ones like this:

so like, some 'Champion-ish' or related ones are part of the main ring of the grid, and then there are some in-between each 'cloud' that correspond to neither side.

in the bottom left, we can see that this Rook has zero points left available at the moment to invest in the skill tree, and that they can refund their points to reset the tree by pressing 'F'. makes sense, in this article they talked about how the skill points can all be refunded. in the top left, under 'Level 30', I wonder if that bar is the exp progress bar that would record how much progress Rook makes to the next level? along the top, we can see that there are tabs for Map, Character (I wonder if this is where we view our inventory?), Companions, Skills and Library (Library is the codexes). Skills of course is the one that is currently highlighted and that we're currently looking at, with two triangles pointing at it in a pattern that looks like an hourglass.

Also evident in the skill tree menu is the purple-and-bronze key color theme of the game. I think the whole thing looks cool and aesthetically pleasing. around the 'Level 30' is some eight-pointed star designs, which is neat to me as we have 7 companions+Rook=8. curving past "Points Available"/"Refund Points", those lines look like the edge of the concentric circles motif. also, it looks like the design of Rook's skill tree takes inspiration from the DA:TV Veil keyart, with the layers, cracks, crumbling pieces and floating rocks, only in this case it's hexagonal rather than circular.

Screenshot showing the skill tree of a Mage Rook, again with the very core of the mage kit in the center. this Rook has invested in the Death Caller spec. we can see the other two specs for mages, Evoker and Spellblade. (it looks like "Spellblade" is one word rather than two like "Death Caller"). like with the differing arts for the different specs, it seems that the art piece for the 'central core' of each kit is also different, which is a cool touch. For mage, for the other 3 'non-spec areas' of the skill tree, where for Warrior they are Weapons, Survival and Abilities, here they are Control, Burst, and Sustain. this Rook is also called "Thorne".

Screenshot showing the skill tree of a Rogue Rook. this Rook has invested in the Saboteur spec. we can see that the three non-spec areas for Rogue Rooks in their skill trees are Sustain, Burst and Control, like mages. that's an interesting choice, I thought they would be 3 different ones for each class. this Rook is also called "Thorne".

In this screenshot we are still looking at a Rook's skill tree. Specifically this is a close-up view of part of a mage Rook's skill tree. So it seems like we can zoom in to the different parts of the skill trees to see them in more detail. In this image, an ability called Wall of Fire is highlighted. Wall of Fire was a mage skill in DA:I.

In the pop-up ‘info card’ looking section for it, we can see all the stats, numbers and relevant information for this skill. We can that it’s a skill of type ‘Duration’ and ‘Control’, ‘Control’ being one of the three non-spec sections on a mage Rook’s Skill Tree. It deals 50 Fire Damage (in the RPGsite article, Corinne confirmed that Elemental damage is a big part of the combat in this game) and has a cooldown time of 60 seconds. The description reads that the skill involves summoning a flaming barrier that burns those enemies who are foolish enough to cross it. We’re also told that enemies incur damage and Burning [damage over time effect or condition?], presumably upon doing so. A scroll bar at the right allows you to scroll down and read the rest of this information. (compare these numbers and descriptions to Wall of Fire in its DA:I incarnation out of interest) We know which symbol on the tree is Wall of Fire as it's highlighted in a purple design around it (I highlighted this below in yellow). We can see that the symbol for Wall of Fire is some burning purple flames.

We can also see some more detail on other, unhighlighted skill points, even though their 'info cards' aren't opened. For example, I think the one I circled above in orange is the new Meteor skill, and maybe the one with three 'bolts' to the right of the Wall of Fire 'card' is a sort of Arcane Bolt[s]-type attack spell? this image also gives us a bit more insight into what each of the different shapes of skills represents. for instance, both Wall of Fire and Meteor are the same diamond shape, so maybe it's like the diamond shape is for specific attacks/spells, as opposed to something like e.g. a passive. Some of the symbols also repeat, like the several different smaller ones around some of the main skills like Meteor (with swords on them). maybe these are optional upgrades for those, like you could invest a point in those to do something like increase the damage done by Meteor or something like that?

There is also this new screenshot of this scene of Emmrich from the character reveal trailer, as noticed by @sandetigerrr here (it's a slightly different version of that shot, one you can't get from slowing the character trailer and pausing it due to the splash text of his name that pops up in that). from the distinctive tall skeleton-pillars in the background, we can see that this scene takes place in Necropolis Halls. (more on that discussed here). a fire burns in the foreground as Emmrich does necromancy, looking all distinguished as he does so. the banners blowing around in the background on the 'wind' created by Emmrich's magic is a nice touch. in this scene we also get a good look at Emmrich's full outfit from the front. it looks like Emmrich is strong/skilled enough to command at least nine undead without breaking a sweat.

the adornments on each skeleton are interesting - are these pieces of armor that never rotted away like flesh, being metal, or are they post-death accoutrements that are added as part of Nevarran funeral/burial customs or something? the headpieces in particular, along with the missing top half of their skulls, make it look like upon death, the top half of the skulls were removed and the brains scooped out, maybe to then be stored in those canopic jar-looking things, Ancient Egypt-style? other parts of these metal pieces look to be at joints like knees, elbows, wrists - maybe after the flesh rots away, these metal parts help to keep the skeleton from falling apart, so that they can wander around successfully in the Grand Necropolis when possessed? lastly, this scene is quite similar to this DA4 concept art in style, vibe, content, setting etc, which makes me wonder if 'Flaming Skellington', who appeared in several pieces of concept art, is actually Emmrich himself.

and finally, that's all the screenshots we've seen so far (unless I've forgotten to include one somewhere along way, in which case pls let me know!), which concludes this post series. I think I will compile the links to all of them into one other post for ease of browsing, and for anyone who read all of these rambling over-analyses, I hope there was at least some stuff in there you found interesting or something. ◕‿◕

[popgirlshowdown]

a couple notes 🎀

THE BRACKETS ARE SEEDED 🙄

some artists don't identify as FEMALE but i feel like pop girlism can extend to nb/genderfluid/etc. artists. to the best of my knowledge, every artist here uses she/her pronouns and identifies with some aspect of femininity.

almost every artist is considered 'pop' or some variation of 'pop' (such as 'synth pop' or 'indie pop'). there are a couple artists who are not technically pop artists but who otherwise collaborate a ton with pop artists and make club classics.

i've tried to include as many pop girls as possible but i know i am missing some- if your fave is missing, im sorry (i already wanna kms about it)

i'm still undergoing some health issues and may not be online as much as i'd like. be patient with me <3

pls be nice to each other- we can joke and have fun but let's not bully people. this is meant to be a fun experience for everyone.

I WILL BE HIGHLIGHTING VARIOUS PALESTINIAN LIBERATION RESOURCES ON THIS BLOG. IF ANYONE HAS SUGGESTIONS FOR ORGS G/F/M/S THAT MAY NEED HELP, SEND THEM TO ME PLS. CHECK MY ‘PALESTINE’ TAG FOR RELEVANT POSTS

round 1 lineup

game 1 master post

[azuryuu]

yuu h. in my ramshackle dorm leader uniform fan-design (+ without cloak)

as usual, click on the image for a higher quality

i decided to try my hand at designing a uniform for the ramshackle dorm ! personally very happy with how it turned out:)

non-dorm leader variant of the ramshackle uniform feat. kat (@kit-ken / @clovers-n-roses's yuu):

also- if you'd like to, feel free to draw your yuu in this ramshackle uniform:) i'd be very flattered if you do:) just credit me for the original design also pls tag me i'd like to see uwaaaa

character design notes are under the cut as well for those interested:)

date: 17/08/23

like my work? consider ordering a commission // buying me a coffee // checking out my art tag or my masterlist | links can be found on my desc

general notes

same top hat and cloak as the ghosts - the cloak has ripped and frayed hem for that "ramshackle" look

dark makeup around eyes and on lips to have that sunken eyes ghost look: black eyeshadow and optional blue highlights around eyes + black/dark blue lipstick

white dress shirt + pants + shoes to emulate the white bedsheet ghosts of ramshackle

ruffles at the hem and back of the dress shirt are long and flowy to emulate the ghost tail so the students have a similar silhouette to the ghosts

shared design between dorm leader and dorm member

dark blue top hat

dress shirt all have the same collar and ruffles by the throat

black sleeve garter on both arms

buttons have ruffles only to the right (my right, their left)

dress shirt opens midway into an upside down V-shape

white dress pants with blue waistbands + the inside of the pockets are dark blue with lighter blue stripes + pocket stitching in dark blue x-shape

shoes are all primarily white with black and gold accents + golden buttons on the outside-side

unique to dorm leader

sleeves are actually shorter but with more elaborate ruffles: no cuff + ends at around midway on the forearm and flares into frills - two layers of ruffles

dress shirt hem flows into ruffles which covers the pants pockets and extends all the way to the back -> the frilled hems also have 2 layers -> the 2nd layer of ruffles (under) split into 2 "ghost tails"

pant legs are tucked inside the boots

boots that extend mid-lower leg, layered with white pleats with golden accents + 6 buttons on the outside + black body + golden sole + black strap with golden accent that goes under the shoe

customisation ideas for dorm members

same top hat + ruffles around the throat + collar as dorm leader

possible customisation for the cloak -> for kat, same cloak as yuu h. -> potential cloak idea: cape that splits halfway in the middle in an upside down V-shape for extra flowiness

dress shirt has frills but not as ornate as dorm leader

sleeves have frills but not as distinctive -> for kat, long cuff with 4 buttons, and ends with short pleats. -> potential sleeve idea would be like epel's school uniform

dress shirt hem opens like dorm leader but no ruffles in the front so pants pocket details are visible

dress shirt has long flowy ruffles for the "ghost tail" at the back only -> only 1 "tail" -> only 1 layer -> shape of actual ruffles is highly customisable, can be anything as long as it's long enough -> for kat, the "tail" slopes to one side, short on the left (my left, their right) and becomes long on the right -> potential "tail" idea: can be uniform/symmetrical

pant legs can be tucked into the shoe or not, depending on the shoe itself n personal choice -> for kat, pants are not tucked in -> pants hem can be flared into additional ruffles if so desired

choices for shoes is open to most styles as long as the colours and layered appearance remains more or less the same -> for kat, ankle boots with the same colour and pleating as yuu -> potential shoes idea: can be dress shoes, taller boots, school shoes, etc...

[xadianglyphs]

Star Iconography: Introduction/Compilation

This post is part of a series collecting, categorizing, and exploring types of star iconography used through s6. Reading the other parts is not required to understand any individual post, but they are related.

—

In this post I'm essentially cataloging the basic findings of what types of symbols are used and where. Highlighting connections, comparisons, and other analysis will be handled in subsequent posts.

The Star Primal

Each of the primal sources has an associated symbol, which are used sparingly within the setting itself—aside from the Key of Aaravos, we mostly see them used in primal nexus architecture or other highly ritualized magical contexts. However, they are also (at least on the Xadian side) universal enough that Rayla, despite being neither a mage nor a priest/scholar, can draw all six accurately:

We also see the "correct" upright orientation of the Star primal symbol (the same way Rayla draws it) in a magical context in s6:

The orientation wasn't exactly a mystery before, but most examples of the upright symbol were taken from sources not internal to the setting, such as the title graphic or Tales of Xadia.

The main takeaway here should be that, for the setting characters familiar with the primal source symbols, whether the Star is upright or reversed should be immediately obvious.

The Celestial Elves

The majority of Celestial elf iconography is derived from the four-point star of the Star primal. What is presumably their insignia, seen on the sleeves of their uniform, shows a four-point star with the "opened eye" of one who has perceived pure starlight at its center:

The exterior architecture of the Starscraper is also composed almost entirely of four-point stars:

And the interior is decorated with Star primal symbols, frequently set within a separate four-point star. When they have a perceivable orientation, these Star primal symbols are universally reversed:

There is also a much smaller set of eight-point star use, including four-point stars enhanced to imply eight points. This is particularly notable in the symbol that appears on their blindfolds when exposed to pure starlight for the first time, a four-point star with four additional diamond points enhancing it:

The pinnacle of the Starscraper opens in an effect of an eight-point star, and there's one little eight-point star lurking among the Star primal symbol decorations of the ornate main entrance area:

Finally, in a very interesting anomaly, the Elder's visor bears an emblem with little relationship to the four- or eight-point star of the other blindfolds, instead showing a circle with six "ray" offshoots:

Startouch Elves

Since s6 gives us more than one (1) singular Startouch elf, we can start examining some of the ways they decorate themselves and their environments. As with everyone except the Celestial elves, we see the Star primal symbol used very sparingly: while Aaravos and the Merciful One have the symbols on their chests exposed, Leola's torso is fully clothed but with the symbol replicated in reversed orientation on her clothing.

Other star-related decorative elements used by Startouch elves to ornament themselves appear to include four-point star or diamond shapes:

The simple line-and-circle embellishments on Aaravos's clothing extend to the Merciful One's clothing as well, suggesting that they are also a broader design element.

We also get a larger sample size of Startouch elf crowns, though all five that we see (the Council plus the Merciful One) are identical, composed of a solid diamond shape overlapped with a hollow diamond shape open at its top point:

Interestingly, Aaravos's own crown is more ornate, as seen in his s1e1 appearance. Normally I take everything in this shot with a hefty grain of salt, but the same crown (and overall) design was reinforced in both the "Fallen Star" flashback sequence and the pre-s6 promo image set:

Architecturally, our only main example is the Cosmic Justice platform, which is decorated with a four-point star on both sides, though significantly more ornate on its top:

There's also Aaravos's home, but it has little to nothing in the way of star iconography decoration that I could find in my existing screenshots (because I really don't have it in me to comb through every shot of the place over five seasons of appearances), instead relying on the sort of vaguely celestial overlapping circles and curves used in settings like the Moon Nexus or Great Bookery. The only exception is what may be a four-point star at the center of the floor:

And finally, even Leola herself uses the four-point star as a visual element when drawing her father:

Other Sources

There are a couple instances of written or illustrated material regarding Star- or Startouch-adjacent topics from previous seasons that are worth giving another look.

The Midnight Star book page includes use of the reversed Star primal symbol with its center blacked out, the way it is perceived on the fallen Aaravos's chest:

Since the poem is about Aaravos, it's pretty reasonable that there would be a representation of him included in this manner. There is also an inclusion of an unusual eight-point star composed of a circle and single lines.

Callum also reviews two significant pages in the Sunfire elf Great Bookery while searching for information about Startouch elves, one on the Novablade and one showing the Starscraper:

It's unclear whether these pages are meant to be from the same book, and whether that book is of Sunfire elf origin or from another source, but they're embellished very similarly so I'm going to (briefly) treat them as a unit. Both pages are framed with a design that leans heavily on the four-point star (both with four equal points and with one elongated point) and vine-like elements similar to the etched designs on the Staff of Ziard. The Starscraper illustration page further derives those elements directly from the appearance of Startouch elf horns.

Finally, we have the star map, where the constellations use a fairly standard setup of circles connected by lines to indicate the stars that make them up:

Leola's Last Wish is highlighted in the star map illustrations with a four-point star embellished with a circle and additional four radiating points.

What about...?

Yes, I've left out Amor Stella Vitae, but trust me, I will get to it. I'm bumped up against the images-per-post limit for this one, already.

As mentioned before, the next parts will distill some of this down into related groups and explore some connections and possible significance in the way they are used. Hopefully that will follow sooner, rather than later. Pray for me, fam.

[cranity]

hi hi! i love your art so much & specifically how you use shapes, especially when you’re drawing heads and faces. i was wondering if you have any tips about how to incorporate shapes this way! pls feel free to ignore if course!

Thank you! I was mulling over this trying to figure out an answer that makes sense. I usually go for what "feels right" which is not a great answer lol so come deconstruct my choices with me in real time--

When i'm drawing figures i'm never aiming particularly for realism when it comes to movement. I go for flashy, poster perfect-esque compositions, so if having Vash's coat-tails flit around him unnaturally don't make sense but it looks cool, then i'll go for it! I think i'm always looking for a solid silhouette so whatever pose the character is striking, you can tell what's going on. Finding the right balance between making a silhouette with too much vs not enough is not something I know how to explain, but something I believe is important! :']

I also tend to extend a characters "energy" outward:

you can see in all these corners and edges everything points outward and even curves a slight bit away. I think this is one of the reasons people tend to call my art sharp/spikey! I don't tend to shade/render my work a terrible amount, preferring a flat graphic look most of the time or just playing with blacks (which is a whole shape language in itself) but when I do, all the shadows and highlights shapes tend to take on a spikey/lightning bolt shape even tho it wouldn't look like that in real life!

It's just really pleasing to me and I like how it looks! The spikier something is for me, the better! If you couldn't guess at this point, starts/lightning bolts are my favorite shapes haha Another thing I tend to do is avoid is curved lines. They're definitely still there! But my flow is more jerky straight lines so that if I drew a circle in my style it'd look like a messed up pentagon with soft points, that basic rule in my art brings forth funky shapes that otherwise wouldn't be there if I was trying to stick to realistic shapes This probably didn't answer a lot ToT but I hope my rambles brought something to light, whatever that may be!

[cellythefloshie]

;; Delicate 500 Follower Celebration

Summary: A late-night phone call brings you face-to-face with the ex you've never gotten over. Word Count: 1.6k+

Phone lights up my nightstand in the black. Come here; you can meet me in the back.

Sleeping was always harder during the colder months. The room was too cold when you had to sleep alone. An old sweater was never enough to bring you the warmth you craved in the bed that was all too big for just you. And that fact only worsened when the Carolina Hurricanes came to town. 

It brought countless notifications to life on your phone. Reporters, your friends, strangers, everyone was talking about the big faceoff that was Freddie Andersen versus his ex-team, the Toronto Maple Leafs. The headlines would plague him his entire career, and both of you, for only a few nights. Yet, you hated it. You hated seeing his face on the screen. You hated being reminded that the two of you parted ways because Kyle Dubas banked on the success of Jack Campbell instead of extending Freddie’s contract. 

A part of you had always got hung up on the “what ifs?” that came with your decisions. What if you and Freddie had tried to get over the long distance? What if you had moved with him to Carolina? And while those thoughts haunted you, you knew uprooting from Toronto was the only choice for you. Your family was there. Your career was finally in a place you were happy with, and that couldn’t have contrasted more from what would have been moving from city to city if Freddie failed to secure a long-term contract. 

You had put yourself first. And you were thankful for that, but it didn’t leave you any less anxious that you would run into him in all the places you used to frequent together. So, when he was in town, you avoided them. You ordered in and went to bed early just to avoid any instance of your paths crossing. 

Yet, sleep refused to take you. 

You tossed, and you turned. The room was both too hot and too cold and left you battling with your blanket. Did you want it draped over you or between your legs? Your body couldn’t decide, so it ended up on the floor. Then, your pillows joined it, leaving you to lie flat on your back against your mattress in the darkness. Staring up at the ceiling, the blackness was suffocating. Your every breath was shallow and desperate. Then there was light, and it reduced you to a single breath that hitched at the back of your throat. It sat there, burning at your lungs as you let your head lull to the side to find the source of the light. 

Beside the bed, on the nightstand, your phone rested face up, its screen bright with life. Its harsh light cut through the black, your heart racing. No one texted you this late at night. Not your friends. Not your family. No one. Yet, when it faded to black, it was bright with life again with another notification. 

Whoever it was really wanted to get hold of you. 

You should have let it fade to darkness again. To let it consume you as you rolled over and ignored whoever it was, but your curiosity peaked and prevailed. You needed to know who it was. 

Reaching out, you took hold of your phone that cool to the touch. You cradled it in your hold, your eyes squinting to lessen the harsh brightness of the light before they went wide at the notification and the name it highlighted in bold. His name. Freddie. 

Heart hammering in your chest, so hard and so loud that you can hear it in your ears, you don’t take the time to read the messages. Instead, you do something far worse that sends your stomach into knotted coils of nerves. You call him. 

It took three hollow rings before you contemplated hanging up. The voice inside your mind told you it was a bad idea. But as you drew the phone away from your ear on the fourth ring, it shortened when Freddie’s line cut in and he greeted you with the softness of how he spoke your name. It sent a shiver coursing down the length of your spine. You had missed hearing him say your name. 

“You sill in that same old place?”

Fuck, he wanted to see you? Maybe you should have read the messages first. 

The surprise of his question didn’t paralyze you but left you nodding a silent yes before you realized he couldn’t see you. Swallowing hard, you found your words. “Yeah,” you said, nodding still, “come here, you can meet me in the back.”

A trembling sigh coursed through the length of your body as you drew your phone away from your ear and left it in its place on your bedside table. You watched as its light faded, leaving you in the darkness and sending your head back down to the mattress. What were you thinking? Making that call, leading him there right back to you. It was a one-way ticket to heartache. Yet, you were getting out of bed with little hesitancy and moving to your closet to grab a sweater you hadn’t worn in what felt like years. It hung off of your frame as if at any moment it could slip off your shoulders and to the floor. And it had always fit that way because it was Freddie’s sweater. The Maple Leafs logo on the front faded and his number on the arm was all that remained to show that it was his. You weren’t even sure if it was something you could have, but he had left it there the day he had left Toronto and you had zero intentions of giving it back. 

It was all you wore when you stepped out on the fire escape just outside your bedroom window. The cool spring air was harsh on your bare legs and you pulled the sweatshirt down as low as it would stay just to keep yourself from retreating inside. You huddled down low on the steps to keep yourself from the wind, her arms hugging your knees as you waited for him. Every passing car sent your heart thundering in your chest. You didn’t know what car he would drive, if he was driving at all, or if he would even show up. It was late, and visiting teams had a curfew. Curfew that wouldn’t be worth breaking just for the chance of seeing you. 

The longer you sat there, the more convinced that he wasn’t coming, you became. The cold metal steps of the fire escape left their impression on your ass and the back of your thighs, and coldly stung against your skin. Soon it became too much. Standing slowly, you reached for the windowsill and froze. Your silhouette was cast against the brick exterior of your bedroom as a car pulled up in the visitor parking below. Petrified, your fingers curled, grasping desperately at the splintering windowsill as you listened to the car door open and close. Then the lights went dark.

Heavy footsteps treaded through the gravel and remnants of snow below before becoming silent at the bottom of the fire escape. It didn’t go all the way to the ground to prevent people from coming and going from the windows, but it was no obstacle for the goaltender. You listened to the rattle of the metal as he pulled himself up and then his every footstep as he made his ascent. And when the night air became silent, you knew he was standing right behind you. 

“Don’t you have a curfew?” you asked. 

“The boys are covering for me,” he answered. 

Then you turned around. Freddie was standing one step below you on the fire escape, yet he still towered over you as just as he always had. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans, his Carolina Hurricanes sweatshirt and Nike sneakers. And through it, you could feel every bit of his warmth. Feeling it radiating through the chilly night left you wanting to reach out to him. To wrap your limbs around his body and let him warm you, but he was already reaching out to you. 

Freddie’s large hand found the hem of what had once been his sweater, pinching the dark grey fabric between his fingers. His hand dragged along it slowly, his knucks grazing over the soft flesh of your hip as a smile splayed over his lips. “You kept it?”

You wanted to make a joke. You wanted to tell him that the avid Leafs collectors were one expensive offer away from taking the sweater out of your closet. It would have been a bold attempt to display that you were trying to move on. But all you could do was stare at him, nod, and wonder if the girls back in Carolina treated him as well as you. If he dreamed of you, just as you did him almost every night. A part of you wanted to ask him, but you bit your tongue. The situation was far too delicate. 

After game time tomorrow, he would be on a flight to whatever city they played in next and you would still be in Toronto. The night couldn’t be one full of what-ifs and wondering why he texted you. You could only live in the moment, breathe him in and not think of the heartache that would follow when he left again. You missed him, and maybe he missed you, too. So you indulged him when his hands came up to cup your face in his hands. You leaned into his touch and leaned in when you saw his gaze flicker between your eyes and your lips. 

The kiss had been simple, an invitation, a reminder. One that had you both climbing through your bedroom window with little regard for what would happen after the two of you spent your first night together in a long time. 

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hi! Love your work can we get more endless siblings + Lucifer shenanigans with child!reader and where and how her presence affects the events of the show (like how would they react to their dad being gone for 100+ years after telling them he’d be back soon :( and how would the other residents of the dreaming explain to her what going on when the palace starts crumbling? Oh and dream coming back with a Matthew and not his previous raven (forgot their name sorry) being their first experience with grief!?) I have so many other ideas (especially angst lol)but that’s just the one’s I’d like to see fleshed out by your great writing!

Seconds Into Centuries

Dream of the Endless & Dream!Reader

Summary: Everyone was taking their turn to take care for you as the Dreaming falls into apocalypse.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: papa!dream, everyone is soft for reader (me included), gender neutral!reader, feels, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: T_T MY HEART OK THANK YOU FOR THE REQ I was so excited when i saw this because I loved dream and his lil bb so so much. The original request actually does not fit in the timeline you wanted but thats fine lol anyway i hope you like it pls i put this off for so long since I had absolutely no idea what to do and now it feels mid im so T_T i HOPE you like it [cries] i kind of gave up on it lahsf;lhasf;a;sfsa Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 and @lexi-anastasia

Lucienne watches you as you watered the garden patch you have been cultivating since your creation. It was the highlight of her day in all the rubble and darkness left in the dreaming.

"Ruru look," you point, "there are 4 flowers now!"

"Yes, my love, there are four," she smiles.

Lucienne watches your tiny body as you talked to your plants. She thought often about how they would grow, but you would not. You were as much as a child as you were the day he left. In truth, she hadn't expected you to come alive at all, much less in a form of a child, when she knew you were an uncompleted dream.

She was grateful you did though-- that you came to life. Lucienne often thinks this was were her master's way of reassuring the Dreaming, allowing you to live among them as a reminder of hope.

You astounded her everyday of your capabilities to grasp the concepts of your existence, of your father, Dream of the Endless, and the grand scheme of the universe. And yet, you still could not say the L in your nickname for her, thus Lucienne's pet name, Ruru.

"Come, my dear," Lucienne calls, extending a hand out to you, "we must get ready for lunch."

You wipe your hands on your garden apron then take her hand.

Once you get there, Lucienne cannot believe her eyes.

"Papa!" you call, the moment you get to the fallen hall. You release her and run straight towards him.

Lucienne is frozen in her spot, utterly speechless, flabbergasted. She does nothing but watch, still and silent, as you run up to your maker.

Dream is just as stiff as she is when you reach him and seal his legs into your arms. You beam up at him, smiling from ear to ear. Dream peers down at you, eyes wide, arms unsure of whether or not they should reach out to you.

"Why did you take you so long, papa?"

Dream's brows knit. He turns to Lucienne when he hears her sigh. The sound of her heels on the floor echo in the empty hall, filled with rubble.

"Is this-"

"The Dream, sir," Lucienne mutters, "the one you left unfinished."

Dream looks down at his creation, blue eyes blown wide.

"Papa, Didi told me you would be home soon."

"Didi?"

"Desire," Lucienne calls.

Dream's heart drops when he turns to his librarian.

"Auntie Death gave me this clip," you point.

Dream steals a glance at the child and the gem on her head, "two of my siblings came to the Dreaming?"

"Delirium came for her as well as Destiny."

"To what?" Dream's face falls.

"To... play with her," Lucienne says as she shrugs.

Dream is rendered speechless. A column of the Dreaming comes crashing down. You and Ruru start because of it; you in particular pull away from your father to press your hands tightly on your ears.

After this, you grab onto your papa's coat as you point to the rubble, "papa, papa, papa-"

"I've been trapped for a century, and you're telling me my siblings instead visited her?"

Lucienne did not know what to tell Dream. His teary blue irises were the cynosure of the reddened whites of his eyes. His face was hardened, like cut marble.

"Papa!" you urged as you attempted to drag Dream across the room.

His face twitched at your adamancy, but something ticked in him when you released his coat and grabbed his hand.

Dream softened, like moldable clay, upon the feel of the soft, tiny hand. You urged him toward the fallen pillar, and once you got there, you crouched on the floor and beckoned him to come close.

Dream followed you, dropping to his knees beside you.

You giggled softly, pointing at a patch of sawdust, "Cani and Abi told me to show you this when you come back."

Dream furrowed his brows.

"Our dream means Cain and Abel," Lucienne calls, walking over to you both.

You waved your hand on the clump of pulverized debris. Out of nothing, that area of destruction suddenly became the soil of a small green plant. You brought life out of the desolation.

Dream's eyes widens at the sight. You beam, standing to you feet, that you met your papa face to face. You grab his cheeks and tell excitedly, "it's a flower!"

Dream slightly lifts his face to behold yours.

Lucienne watches, placing her hands behind her back.

Your light begins to fade when you see the tear roll down Dream's face. You gasp, slowly wiping it away. You pull out your lower lip. Your own eyes begin to glass, "sorry papa. Please don't cry."

Dream's face tenses when you pull away. He was just quick enough to halt you from swatting the plant away and destroying it.

You turn to Dream, your own cheeks now riddled with tears as well.

Dream pulls you close, cupping your face, "what are you doing?"

"Flowers make papa cry."

"No," he shakes his head, "I- papa is not crying because of the flower."

You tilt your head, holding back tears, "why is papa sad?"

"I'm sad because of you," Dream mutters, turning away.

You freeze and then break down.

Lucienne's heart drops when you crumble into a wail.

Dream recoils, at the sound, "no- no- I didn't mean-" he grabs your shoulders tightly as he drops to his knees, "I meant I am sad because you lived here in the Dreaming," he releases a breath, "planting flowers in the rubble while I was away, for you had nothing better to do."

You scratch your eyes as you mewled sadly.

"I- that should not--" Dream drops his head in defeat. He releases a deep breath, "the idea an uncompleted dream..."

You sniffle, trying to calm yourself when the hands on your shoulders slide down.

Lucienne did not want to, but it was clear she had to intervene.

However, when she stepped forward, you did so as well, and threw your arms around Dream. Lucienne watched as he straightened up to cradle you tightly in his arms. There was such a warmth and tenderness between you that grass started to grow all around. It makes Lucienne's heart soar.

When Dream pulls away, he wipes off the tears on your face. You do the same for him.

"It is I that must apologize," Dream mutters.

You nod your head, "you were gone! For so, so long!"

He sighs, "I was... I-"

"But don't be sad. It's ok because Lucienne told me you didn't mean to."

"..."

"She told me you would come back!"

Dream turns to Lucienne in this moment. She finds herself smiling when the king extends a hand out for her. He presses a kiss on the back of her hand, "thank you, Lucienne--" he turns to you, "for everything."

Lucienne turns to you, smile widening, "it wasn't all me."

Dream releases her hand to pick you up as he stands, "yes, there was Cain, Abel, even Desire-- do tell me more about the visits you had, my love."

Your cheek is wiped by your papa as you begin to recount all of the visits you had with strangers that became playmates.

[pinkcannibal]

goodness you could write 24k+ words of just purely marilyn and reader Cuddling in bed/on the couch and I would eat every. single. word of it. up. like do you realise the cultural shifts you created with that one part of your fic that mentions marilyn pulling reader’s body closer to her in bed and spooning her when she wasn’t close enough???? DO YOU???!!! because i Personally have been thinking about that sentence for the last however many months it’s been and it’s Always on my mind. always. just. reader and marilyn. and their love. ugh it’s so fucked up. and precious. and perfect. and marilyn loves holding her baby girl close to her <333 so she can feel her and assure to herself she’s real and she’s there and protect her through the night and it’s just <<333 i love it So Much. pls write more extended cuddling moments bc your write them so perfect <33333333

omg seeing this has been a highlight of my day this is so sweet thank you so much!! i always get sooo nervy when writing soft moments bc so much of it is so deranged and feral between them sdksd so its so nice to hear you like the soft moments :')) im adding so many more in the next chapter so ive got u <3

marilyn definitelyyy just adores spooning reader close to her, she will tangle their legs together and hold her so tight, both so possessively and tenderly bc she doesnt want one moment she isnt being reminded readers safe and hers. she gets so grumbly and indignant if reader needs to move btw. she loves it so much when reader falls asleep against her chest on the couch, or when she studies and wants to be held by marilyn while doing so <33 god they make me sick theyre so in love

[seirclys]

VADD Fashion Analysis 5: OG Penelope's dress(again)

Link to Part 2, which was also about this topic

im backk!!

Alright so, we can all still agree that her dress is pretty... uh, ugly

(Screenshots from Chapter 101 btw)

The dark purple bodice extends too far down to her mid-thighs. It also isn't doing her body any favors, as well as being EXCEEDINGLY PLAIN.

I mean, come on. This is OG Penelope we're talking about. She's the one showered in jewels, who goes out shopping on the daily like a maniac. Do you really think she'd wear this dress multiple times, enough for the game devs to think "Ah yes, this dress is perfect for the luxurious villainess"??

It, again, doesn't suit her. To be honest, I've tried redesigning it a couple of times, and I always start by taking off the ribbons and changing the skirt somehow. The sleeves, as well. All of them work "fine" alone but together it looks gaudy, which is not in line with the "mature beauty" she's supposed to be.

We know from a panel of her that the flower-patterned skirt isn't structured, so right now it looks like someone tried to pin it closer to her body to make a mermaid skirt, but failed.

(Chapter 75)

Now, consider this: We've seen a similar concept in another manhwa before, but executed perfectly. That's right, ladies and gentlefolk, I'm talking about... Roxana Agrece.(Sidenote, I like "Agriche" more tbh but I'll be using the official spelling T-T)

(Roxana, Chapter 33)

At first glance, most things check out.

Sleeves with a shoulder puff but flare out at the elbow, a dark/monochrome skirt that flares out, and a purple bodice/overlayer with ruffles around the shoulders, and even an additional layer poking out from the ruffles. The bodice on Roxana's dress technically reaches her mid-thigh as well.

(Roxana Chapter 34, VADD Chapter 4)

Additionally, Roxana wears an elaborate choker, while Penelope's is a simple leather band with a turquoise gem dangling from it. Roxana's dress is also studded with jewels and pearls. It also has a pattern with the seams reversed and highlighted with black.

Let's be honest, I've been looking more at Roxana's dresses while writing my own fic, Shrike, for inspiration(one of Penelope's dresses is an unintentional twin to one of Roxana's, discord moots iykyk), and the extravagance and maturity of Roxana's style suits what was described of OG Penelope, but something we don't see in the manhwa.

I love SUOL-nim's dress designs, but sometimes I think they're lacking in the extravagance that they're supposed to have. Either that or Siyeon has been having Emily pick out the least flashy clothes(which why would you even have that if you could be dressed in extravagance).

In my opinion, I think OG Penelope would wear gloves, especially given that Emily continuously stabbed her arms with needles. Long sleeves as well— it makes no sense that no one noticed when Penelope wasn't doing much to cover up her wounds.

Even Siyeon used gloves to cover up the needle marks.

Long sleeves as well, using the same logic. In particular, I also really like how the pattern for Roxana's dress was on the bodice while the skirt was left minimal(with rose embroidery and the emphasized seams of the gored panels), which drew more attention to her upper body.

On the other hand, the busyness of Penelope's skirt draws attention downwards, to the awkward, curtain-drape-esque quality of her bodice T-T.

This feeling of maturity is also why I wrote about og!Penelope parting her hair in a side part in Shrike(I swear I'm not lifting everything from Roxana pls)

[luvhughes43]

blair ik that we shouldnt really be talking about sad blake but i just had a thought that i wanted to ask about.

idk if you've ever seen dance moms but i can imagine the relationship between blake and her ex coach kinda like abby and maddie.

blake was the skating protegee, she gave up everything for skating and i think being isolated from her friends and family really allowed her to be emotionally manipulated. i think her ex coach would have def blammed her family for a. not being around enough when she was a kid for focusing on her brothers and never really being there and when blake gives out her side of the story about the abuse she faced she just blames her family and friends for manipulating her. i think she would have also been really disappointed by her ending her skating career (because the coach is just heartless like that) and put her on blast throughout the interview which is so incredibly sad. poor girl has been thro the miler

i'm so sorry for this long and incessant thought if this wasn't necessarily a topic that u wanna talk about for being heavy but i just wanted to share what i thought. you genuinely have such a wondrous way with words in your blurbs/au's and it really opens up interpretations into ur oc's <3<3

no we can talk about sad blake all day its one of my fav genres !!

heavy on being manipulated! she was in a complete different state from her family (she lived with her aunt, but still) and her coach was the only real stable influence she had which was obviously awful for blake. her ex coach shares all of this on her 'defamation' series and blames the family for not being around for blake and thus causing the coach to take on the role of being 'family' for blake. basically blames them for her toxicity while also denying it happened (truly a joyous person)

its such a messy situation. the coach basically blames blake for quitting even though she literally had no choice ! she also blames blake for not having a career anymore after blake didn't renew her contract (she stops coaching blake when blake turns 18 - and she gets injured at 19 under a new coach) because a bunch of the ex coach's other skaters came out about the abuse and of course blakes name was highlighted.

its really hard for blake because this interview comes out when shes like 23/24 so about 4-5 years after she left skating and has been trying to heal. then suddenly everything is being brought back up for the world to judge. plus her family and extended family are just bombarding her with apologies and explanations and she just cannot handle everything. theres too many emotional sit-down chats and it comes to a point where she just has to get away from everything.

she literally begs nico to take her away to switzerland so she could catch a break which he of course does.

never apologize for sending anything in!!! i love all the long thoughts so much i literally cannot begin to explain how much joy it brings me !! i will talk about absolutely anything (esp the blake au🤭) so pls feel free to send me any thought i eat it up every time !! im ranting now but youre so sweet🫂🫶 thank you so much for your compliments <333 truly the highest compliment i'm so happy youre interpreting my writing <3 means the world