#I'm trying to get better with not giving up on WIPs
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fuctacles · 2 days ago
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<< nine | 😺 | eleven >>
Posting early so you have something to think about on Thanksgiving. I'll be taking a break from posting my wips in December to focus on all the events. Speaking of, check out @genderthings @stmonstercalendar and @stevieweek
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"They're so—" Eddie's sentence is broken with a yelp when Stephanie slaps his hands. 
"Fluffy?" Steph offers, going back to closing up her salon. "Soft? Healthy? They won't be if you keep touching them."
He huffs, slotting his hands under his armpits so he wouldn't be tempted to reach up. 
"If you want, I can get you some of that conditioner to take home. You could charm all the city girls with your nice hair." She turns to him with a smile, looking over her work once again. She pulls a strand of his hair back in place and Eddie imagines his band making it big, touring with a private hairdresser fussing over him before every concert. They'd take all the cats on the tour bus too.
"The city girls like my unkempt poor artist looks, thank you very much," he jokes. "The boys may appreciate it, though."
"For the boys, then." She smiles. "Did you walk here?"
He shakes his head. 
"Nah, I'm too lazy for that. You?"
"I try to walk to work as long as the weather lets me," she says. "Need to keep the old bones in shape." She pats her plush thighs distractingly, but it's not enough for Eddie to miss her words. 
He rolls his eyes. 
"Your bones aren't old. I was gonna offer you a ride, but maybe you deserve to walk since you're so young and energetic," he sends her a wry look. 
"Ah, but I always wanted a ride in a big old kidnapper van!" She bats her eyelashes at him, her playful pout in full swing. Eddie is so, so weak. 
"Don't call it a kidnapper van." He scrunches his nose. "It's a stoner slash garage band van," he corrects her.
"Ah, mea culpa. Lead me to your stoner van, then?"
"You call yourself old and yet you act so insufferable," he shakes his head with a smile and offers her his elbow. 
"Gotta keep something about me young," she jokes back and then yelps when Eddie pinches her in the side as she grabs his arm. 
"I think there's plenty young about you," he says, giving her a pointed up and down. 
"Yeah, bet you say it to all the old ladies," she snarks back. "When you help them cross the street or carry their—ah!"
"Oh my gods, Stephanie!" Eddie cuts her off, pressing her against the side of his van. "If you think you're old then call me a geriatrophiliac, because you're so hot I can't think about anyone else."
Steph's eyes are wide and her cheeks are flushed and he wants to kiss her so badly. He backs away, though, because he's a gentleman (sometimes) and wants to give her some space. Besides, he probably just crossed some lines he shouldn't have. 
She breathes out once he steps back, and chuckles. 
"You're just saying that," she deflects, making something in Eddie boil. "You're out there in college and I'm stuck here with my small hair salon."
"Oh, you mean you're a successful hot businesswoman with her own salon and plans to branch it out?" He raises an eyebrow, putting his hands on his hips.
"Plans," she points out. 
"Very plausible plans," he adds. 
Stephanie shrugs. 
"Just, get in the car before I lose my patience." He shakes his head. But then seeing her hesitance he deflates, losing his bravado instantly. "Unless you're not comfortable with that? I promise I'll drive you straight home."
"Why would I be uncomfortable?" she asks, her voice a little small like she knows exactly why but doesn't want to put it out there. Albeit reluctantly, Eddie will do it for her. 
"Because I said I'm into you and now I'm inviting you inside my shady not-kidnapper van," he reminds her. 
"Yeah, but you're just saying that to make me feel better." Steph shakes her head softly, smiling her small, self-deprecating smile. "Which I do appreciate, but..." she trails off with a shrug.
Eddie is fed up with her. As beautiful as she is, her head is a maze she's clearly getting lost in and someone needs to pull her out of it. 
"Can I kiss you?" he butts in, realizing she's losing steam.
"What?" Her eyebrows jump in surprise. 
"Oh, you heard me." He takes a step closer, crowding her in. Maybe space is the opposite of what she needs. "Can I kiss you?" he repeats. "On the mouth. Tongue and all, if you don't mind."
He watches in real time as her cheeks turn red and her gaze drops down to his lips. 
"Here?" she breathes out. 
"Yes, here. So everyone knows how lucky I am." 
She looks up into his eyes, searching for any deceit but she won't find any. Her lips press together and come back shinier, wetter, and Eddie's own tingle in anticipation.
"Are you sure?"
Eddie's done with her. And done for her. He knows she won't admit what she wants, won't ask for it even when laid down on a silver platter in front of her. So he changes his question. 
"Just say 'no'." He leans just a tiny bit closer. 
She doesn't. Her eyes zero on his lips and her chest expands with her deep breaths. Eddie leans in more, and she twitches like she wants to reach back but won't. 
He closes the distance. 
Stephanie smells of hairspray and coffee. She's soft and perfect and he's afraid she'll flee if he touches her, but to ground them both, he reaches with his arms to cup her elbows, a safe place to hold her and not spook her. He moves his lips gently, slowly, but then he feels a tug on his jacket, which she grabs to hold on to him, and presses just a little bit closer. 
Eddie feels the exhale from her nose on his cheek as she relaxes against the van, giving him the illusion of towering over her, despite them being almost the same height. He slowly drags his hands up to caress her neck, angling her jaw gently how he wants it. When he finally sucks on her pouty bottom lip as he's been dreaming of, she exhales into him, tentative yet asking. She jolts at the touch of his tongue but parts her lips further anyway.
She feels like heaven and Eddie is almost ashamed by the sound he makes after tasting her properly, but her hand slides to his waist and he doesn't care about making a fool of himself in front of her and anyone else for that matter. 
If she wanted to, he'd deck himself in full jester attire just to make her smile, to take the load of worry off her chest. Oh, how he wants to take things off her chest. It's been a while since a simple kiss made him feel so giddy, so exhilarated, and he hopes she feels it too. 
He's excited for what's to come, not just in bed, though he hopes, yearns for that too, but making her happy and whole, seeing herself how he sees her. 
The sharp sound of a whistle pulls them apart. 
"Get a room, kids!" someone laughs jovially as a car slowly passes by, but by the time their heads snap towards it, it's gone behind the corner. 
"Well," Eddie chuckles softly. "Still feeling old?" he asks Steph with a smile that quickly falters when he can't read her expression. A million things he could have done wrong fleet through his head and he takes half a step back, but her hand is still holding on to his jacket. 
She's still relaxed against the van, so he forces his brain to quiet and waits. Her head tips back, exposing her neck and the faintest hint of an Adam's apple, invisible otherwise. He's ridiculously happy to be able to see it and hopes he'll be able to suck on it too. 
"I feel..." she finally says, and Eddie latches to every sound leaving her lips. "Something, for sure."
Nothing else comes so he trails his palm down her arm to gently squeeze at her wrist. 
"Good something?" he asks hopefully.
Their eyes meet again, giving him some relief, though the prolonged silence is fighting against it. He still waits and gives her time to think. She doesn't shake off his hand so he rubs his thumb against her pulse point.
Until it twists in his grasp, and he's ready to let go but she grabs at his fingers to squeeze back.
"I think so," she finally decides, giving him a small, tentative smile. 
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my ko-fi bc i'm in deeper shit than i thought
the boys: @wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94
@tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman
@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @lawrencebshoggoth
@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets
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screamlet · 3 days ago
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wip wednesday (bucktommy fix-it edition)
a longer eddie+tommy excerpt from this wip that's getting out of control. some context: tommy has shaved off his hair in the gay heartbreak tradition of our people.
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Tommy knows he's a creature of habit, but it's still disquieting to discover that sometimes people learn his habits. For example: Tommy regularly likes to hit up one specific cozy restaurant on his free nights and have dinner at the bar, him and a book. Sometimes he'd strike up a conversation with someone at the bar but, most of the time, he had his quiet, familiar corner at the bar with a drink or two, his dinner, and whatever he was reading that week.
Tonight, someone buys him his beer and that someone is Eddie, who's sitting across the bar from him when he arrives. He toasts to Tommy, then gets out of his seat and comes around to sit with him.
"Thanks for the beer," Tommy replies. "So what's going on?"
"Just checking in. You've been quiet."
Tommy raises his eyebrows at him. "Huh. Have I? I wonder."
For a second, Eddie's look is scathing, and then sympathetic, genuine. "How are you doing?"
He imagined the briefest cartoonish image where he tips his head back and chugs the entire beer in one go, but it takes so long that Eddie sighs and leaves. He thinks about doing something that dumb for longer than he should before he does the adult thing and shrugs a shoulder at him. "Just fine, how about you?"
Eddie tilts his head 90 degrees, like he's had his neck snapped. "Just fine? You break up with your boyfriend of six months and—hey, Tommy? Should I mention the hair? Or the lack of it?"
Tommy smiles broadly; his face aches to be this fake, but he used to be a pro at it. "I thought I'd try something new." He takes another sip. "Thanks for the beer. Does Buck know you're here? Crossing enemy lines?"
"Wow, he said you called him Buck and I didn't believe him, but you really did that." Eddie shudders. "Stop doing that. And what enemy lines? We're friends, idiot."
Tommy gives him a playful look. "Come on. No we're not. You're his best friend. You don't need to pretend. I get it."
Eddie clears his throat. "You know Buck can have more than one friend at the same time?"
"And he does," Tommy assures him. "He's got you and the whole 118, his sister, everyone who's connected with you guys. He's good. I'm good. We're good."
"Tommy, listen." Eddie shifts in his seat and leans in closer. "Show me a real emotion in the next 10 seconds or I'll punch your cheekbones into your skull for leading on my best friend for six months. He cares about you, Tommy. Do you have any idea how much? I thought you did. He took it seriously—did you?"
He considers Eddie carefully and then looks away. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm doing okay. I cared about him a lot, too, and now we've broken up. It happens. Thanks for checking on me. You don't have to do that anymore."
It's quiet between them for a minute, then another. Tommy puts in his dinner order and motions to Eddie, who shakes his head and says he doesn't want anything. Tommy leans back in his seat and that's when he starts to sweat. If Eddie's just going to sit there and watch him, wait him out, then Eddie's going to win. Tommy's good at this, great at faking it until he makes it, but it's—it's hard to sit under the microscope for this long, especially when Eddie seems to have nothing but time on his hands and nothing to do but wait for Tommy to crack.
"I'm not here to get you guys back together," Eddie finally says. "I really am here to see how you're doing. I see Buck at work; I don't see you, but I want to keep seeing you. I want us to be friends, no matter what happens between the two of you."
Tommy laughs. "God, and why would you want that? You've got better things to do with your time. Seriously, go call your kid or something."
"His name is Christopher, Tommy, and get his name out of your mouth if that's how you feel about him, about me and him."
Tommy nods, apologetic. "Sorry. But I do mean it: I free you of your obligation."
Eddie's quiet again and says, with even more disbelief, "You don't want to be my friend anymore? And don't call me a child, Tommy, I'm serious. You know adults have friends, too, right? And sometimes people break up and the world keeps turning and we can still be friends, you and me. You and Chim, you and Hen, even Bobby will come around because he likes you. You're still Tommy."
"I don't think that's how you guys work," Tommy says. "I don't think anyone stays in your circle without Buck tying them there. Maybe you and I can meet up for basketball, spar at the gym, hang out at my place, but I'm telling you that's a lot of work and you don't have to do it."
"I never had to do it, Tommy," Eddie replies. "I wanted to because I wanted to be your friend. You are my friend, and Buck isn't gonna change that."
Tommy laughs dryly and looks away. "He changes everything, Eddie."
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literaticat · 3 days ago
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It took me a while to stop crying and resolve to help people who will be targeted (starting 1/20/25). I am also trying to reconnect to even a scrap of joy, by tiptoeing back into writing. But...I keep analyzing my WIPs through the lens of how That Guy will be making half the country feel, wondering, "Is X funny enough? Is Y topic too serious?" Help?! Is it worth writing/querying anything that's not totally escapist? Are there genres that should just stay in a drawer right now?
No need to wait until January to help people! :-)
As to the writing piece: I think you are overthinking it. And hey, I get that! Half the country is still somewhat in "reeling mode", it hasn't even been a month, no need to make any huge decisions or change the course of your writing life or fret about queries that you aren't ready to send anyway right this second. Give yourself some grace. Do some deep breathing.
Nobody knows what the future will bring.
Hey, maybe people will want to read more than they ever have and publishing will thrive across all genres. Maybe there will be an unforeseen trend of books about cowboys in space or something that will make a genre flourish that we haven't ever even thought of before!
Or, maybe the tarriffs will eff publishing up so badly we won't need to worry about ANY genres anymore. Maybe he'll sell us all to Daddy Vladdy for a nickel or start Civil War II and we'll all have to become resistance fighters. (Or, maybe we'll get lucky and the meteor will come; that might be better, because I don't have much to offer in the way of actual resistance fighting unless the troops need children's books or cookies!)
But since none of those lines of thinking are particularly helpful or healthy, maybe let's not focus on speculating about all the random possible scenarios. It's too much! Your brain will break!
Here's what is within your purview: YOUR LITTLE CORNER OF THE WORLD. That includes your work, yes, but also your home, your family, your personal behavior and habits, your physical and mental health, and the well-being of your communities (both literal, like, the people who live near you, and figurative, the people near you or even across the country or the globe with whom you have shared values, etc)
I'm not an expert obvs, but I do feel like, when I stop "reeling" and thinking about whatever bizzaro outrage some politician is perpetrating and start thinking about what tangible things I can do to help support MY LITTLE CORNER OF THE WORLD, I feel a lot better. More useful.
(Like, how about instead of doomscrolling, I actually take that time and put my impotent rage to use pulling out the dying tomato plants and getting the yard ready for winter? How about instead of crying into my pillow, I gather a bunch of stuff to donate to a local charity? OH LOOK, I FORGOT ABOUT THE NEWS FOR A WHILE AND GOT THINGS DONE AND MADE MY CORNER OF THE WORLD BETTER! And now I'm tired and can take a nice shower and watch something silly on TV and go to sleep! Yay!)
What I'm saying is, AFTER you do the deep breathing and give yourself grace and all that stuff -- maybe DON'T think about your WIPS through the lens of "OMG what horror show is that freak in the white house doing" or "what will random terrible people think about what I'm doing" -- but rather, think, how do *I* feel about what I'm doing?
We have limited time on this earth -- do you WANT to spend your time on this? Will working on this bring you joy? Does the idea of writing it excite you? Will it reading it bring other people in your communities joy, or hope, or escapism, or important information, or inspiration, or *something else positive*? Those are the kinds of projects you should focus on, imo.
Obviously I have no clue what "Trends" will be coming up in the future, or what the publishing landscape or the world will look like at all -- but I DO SUSPECT that what we will need the most is books that bring something positive to the table. Whether that means a book full of pure delight/escapist entertainment, or reminders about what is beautiful in the world and special about humanity, or tools to help people enact change, or fuel for the next generation of rebels and resistance fighters, or whatever it is.
And, I think that "something positive" could come in the form of fiction, nonfiction, and pretty much ANY genre or category.
(Probably not a great time for extremely bleak / hopeless books, and certainly not a great time for books that you yourself are not passionate about. Writing and publishing is hard enough - don't do the projects that are a misery on top of all that!)
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alltimefail · 3 months ago
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ATTENTION DEAD BOYS FANDOM:
We have some unfinished business and a case to solve: The Case of the Curious Cancellation! 💀🔎
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Here are the ways you can help (be sure to read until the end).
I'm not sure how many people here on Tumblr are also over on DBDA Twitter, but there have been MANY developments in the last 24 hours and it's important for all of us to be on the same page if we're going to have a chance in hell of saving our show.
First and foremost, we need to get Dead Boy Detectives in the Netflix Top 10 again. This means running it as much as possible. Read about that below:
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(SOURCE x)
As the graphic says, the goal is to have it running on a loop constantly, as much as you physically can. Be sure to have some level of volume on or else it won't count. If you're on Twitter be sure to post your rewatch (photos of your tv, commentary, etc.) with the hashtag #ReviveDeadBoyDetectives !!!
Also, there's no better time to do this: the Tweet below brings up a great point! 👍
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(SOURCE x)
Second, and easiest thing: KEEP TALKING ABOUT THE SHOW AND CREATING CONTENT ABOUT THE SHOW. Analysis, fics, fanart, shitposts, gif sets, memes, tik tok videos, so on - do not stop! Reblog other people's stuff and talk about it! Give fics kudos, comment, make fic rec lists and post that WIP or sketch! The most important thing to remember is to TAG YOUR POSTS AND CREATIONS. We need to trend!!! On Tumblr make sure you continue tagging your posts as you probably already are (look at my tags on this post if you need help, and remember not to use "DBD" on here because that is another fandom! We use DBDA here). On Twitter you want to use the hashtag #ReviveDeadBoyDetectives for the rewatch and #SaveDeadBoyDetectives is a popular one, too. You can also use #DeadBoyDetectives. Hell, I usually use all three if I can! Hashtag every post you make about Dead Boys, no matter how annoying or "cringe" you may feel. Flood the fucking tag and do not stop.
Third, everyone needs to sign and keep circulating the petition. We've surpassed 5,000 signatures in a day which is fantastic, but we need more. Get everyone you know to sign it; tell them it takes no more than 15 seconds. Be annoying until they do it just to shut you up.
Fourth, request "Dead Boy Detectives Season 2" through Netflix's support website. It's a small thing but if we all do this a couple times a day it will get their attention. They really do vet these suggestions, and an influx of requests for a canceled show will raise eyebrows.
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Lastly, if you decide to write Netflix (via email or a letter - their office address has been floating around) please remember to stay concise and professional. Don't curse at them, don't call names. State that you are disappointed with the cancellation of the show, maybe add an anecdote about what it meant to you, and I would even recommend attaching some articles that emphasize people's displeasure with the platform abandoning shows on a whim and Netflix's flippant attitude toward queer shows in particular. Dead Boy Detective Agency on Twitter has retweeted every article on this topic so far, you can find their page here.
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You can also use graphics such as the ones below to affirm that the cancellation was unjust.
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(Source 1, Source 2)
I know this feels like a lot: know your limits and take care of yourself. Whether you do every single one of these things or just a few of these things, every llittle bit helps!
Even in the worst case scenario where nothing changes, this gesture will mean so much to everyone who made this show. We owe it to the writers, cast, crew, and each other to TRY. We can all agree that this show deserves at least another season and if Netflix isn't going to do it, they need to be open to selling it to someone who will. We cannot keep allowing them to axe these queer and diverse shows with little regard for their customers and their employees, but also because it sets a harmful standard in the industry that is destroying television.
Let's crack this case and bring our agency back! I truly believe in this community!! 💜 We can do this!!
If there are any spelling errors or issues with links let me know! I did this on mobile because I want to mobilize this information as quickly as possible! I'll be adding on to this with new developments and can answer any questions you all might have. Lets save our show!
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azziesbattybaddie · 4 months ago
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You are my survival
Azriel x reader
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You and Azriel are mates. Az knows it, you don't, that is until a particularly hard training session when the truth finally come out.
Word count: 5k
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Requested: no
Warnings: fem reader, shadow play, smut, swearing, choking kink, praise, Azriel's wingspan, oral F and M receiving, Az is a Dom, PinV, we die like men
🔥 means smut will follow
Authors note: this is the first WIP I've finished in like 2 or 3 years so be gentle on me I also wrote this with one of my friends on discord and she is absolutely amazing, constructive criticism is welcome and plz let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy!
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"Pay attention."
His words weren't harsh by any means. No, Azriel would never raise his voice at you, but he'd be lying if he said training you was easy. He watched as you breathed heavily, body glistening with sweat. You'd been at this for hours. Clearly, you'd underestimated just how difficult swordplay was.
"I'm trying my best"
He let out a small chuckle, watching your brows furrow with frustration as he managed to point his sword at your neck, Again.
"Gotcha."
"dammit!"
You threw your sword down in frustration and slinked over to the corner of the ring. Before hugging your knees to your chest and sulking.
"I'm done, I'm quit!"
Sheathing his sword, Azriel approached you slowly, his footsteps silent on the straw-covered floor. He stopped a few feet away, giving you space but close enough to offer comfort.
"Hey, hey now," he murmured softly.
"Don't give up just yet."
He hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside you, keeping a respectful distance.
"Training is hard, y/n. It's supposed to push you, make you stronger. It's okay to feel frustrated, but don't let it consume you."
He glanced at you, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.
"You're doing better than you think. You've improved so much since we started. It's just... progress takes time. And patience." He offered you a small, encouraging smile.
"And maybe some water? You've been at it all day."
"yeah well maybe I should train with someone else because your a thousand times better than me and you have 400 years of experience on me so even if I am getting better your skill just dwarfs mine..."
Azriel looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. He had expected such a reaction from you, and he couldn't say that he blamed you either.
"You underestimate yourself," he told you gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.
"It may take time, but you will get there. Just keep practicing and if you can't believe in yourself, believe in the fact that I'm starting to feel your progress in your punches." As always tried to joke with you slightly but seeing as he got nothing but a half earned smile he let himself fall quiet.
He sighed deeply, his gaze drifting down to his scarred hands fiddling with them idly. There were things he wanted to tell you, things he wanted to share about his past, but he knew you weren't ready for them yet. Maybe one day, when you were strong enough, he could tell you everything.
Following his gaze, you watched as he picked at his nails and cuticles. You had known Az for a few hundred years now and as long as you had known him he had never shared the story of his warped skin and you had never worked up the courage to ask, that was until now.
"can I ask you a question without you getting upset? You can tell me to screw off if you don't want to answer, I won't push." You said in a timid, whispered voice. Azriel turned to look at you, his expression curious.
"Of course, y/n. What is it?"
He kept his tone calm and non-threatening, not wanting to scare you off. Whatever it was, he would do his best to answer honestly.
"what happened to your hands?"
Azriel's expression softened, and he looked down at his hands, his fingers curling slightly as he remembered.
"My hands... They were burned by-" he let out a heavy sigh, flexing his hands under your gaze before continuing.
"they were burned by my brothers, many years ago. I was born a bastard like Cassian so I was treated differently, even by my so-called family. They it left me with these scars."
He lifted his hands, showing you the intricate network of burn scars that covered his palms and fingers. They were a constant reminder of his past, a painful chapter he would rather forget.
"what brings that question to mind?"
you reach to grab his hand but hesitated before touching him.
"I just always wondered if they were painful they still look painful..."He noticed your hesitation and gave you a reassuring nod, encouraging you to continue.
"It doesn't hurt anymore, physically at least. But sometimes, the memories can still be quite painful." He lowered his hands, his gaze returning to yours staying quiet for a beat.
"It's alright, y/n. You won't hurt me by touching them. I won't bite or as Cass would say 'i won't bite unless you want me too'" he says with a half honest grin trying to lift the mood slightly.
He held out his hand, palm facing up, waiting for you to make the first move. He wanted to show you that he trusted you, that he was comfortable with you touching him. "Go ahead, y/n."
you gingerly brushed your fingers over his scarred hand before taking one of his hands in both of your running your thumbs over the back before smile and saying softly
"They always looked soft still..."
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he felt his face heat slightly at the praise. He never wanted to feel anything other than your gentle touch on his scarred hand.
"Because of the burns, my skin never calloused so yeah I guess they are."
He turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with yours. The warmth of your touch seeped into his skin, soothing the old wounds in ways he hadn't experienced in centuries.
"I never associated touch with comfort before. It feels like home." ' you feel like home' is what he would have said if he had the nerve but kept that thought to himself, thinking it to cheesey to say out loud.
His thumb stroked the back of your hand, a tender gesture that spoke volumes about the unspoken bond between you two. In that moment, the weight of his secrets and the darkness of his past seemed to fade away, replaced by a simple, pure connection with you.
you lifted your head to look at him only to find him already looking at you, your faces close enough to feel each others baited breaths.
Azriel's gaze locked onto yours, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a wild drum. The intensity of your stare was almost overwhelming, stirring feelings within him that he thought long buried.
He leaned closer, his lips inches away from yours. He could smell your scent, a mix of sweat and something uniquely you. It was intoxicating, making his pulse race and his resolve weaken.
For a moment, he considered closing the gap, pressing his lips against yours and losing himself in the warmth of your embrace. But he pulled back, breaking eye contact, reminding himself of the danger in such actions.
without thinking of the consequences of your actions you shot your hand out to cradle the side of his face turning him back to look at you and meet him with pleading look, begging him not to turn away.
Azriel's breath caught in his throat as he felt your hand cup his cheek, turning his face back towards you. He met your pleading gaze, his own eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear.
He wanted nothing more than to surrender to the desire burning within him, to lose himself in your embrace and forget about his past, his fears, and his responsibilities. But he knew he couldn't. Not yet, at least.
With a heavy sigh, he gently removed your hand from his face, his fingertips trailing along your skin as he did so.
"y/n, we can't," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"I care for you too much to risk putting you in danger. We need to focus on our training, on becoming stronger, you need to be ready for when hyburn attacks."
your pout deepened as you moved back slowly pulling your hand away from his reluctantly as you bit your lip trying to think of something to say to make him change his mind.
"Az we can still train and I've been getting stronger for years, why can't we just," you trail off, not knowing that words for the feeling you felt for him.
Azriel's chest tightened at your pout, a pang of guilt slicing through him as he cut you off. He hated seeing you upset, especially over something he had done.
"It's not because I don't want to," he assured you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
"It's because I care about you too much. If I give in to these feelings now, it might lead to something neither of us is prepared for, not with so much at stake with war coming."
He paused, his gaze dropping to your lips before lifting back to meet your eyes.
"We're mates. I've known for a while but even though we were designed for each other. And right now with hyburn threatening to breach our borders, our lives and decisions can't be about love or passion-it's about survival"
you pull his face back to you for a last time before running the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks lovingly
"I know that az, but you are my survival. you said it yourself that your my mate, do you really think that I can live without my mate, without you?" You plead tears starting to form in your eyes.
The words hit him like a physical blow, leaving him momentarily speechless. Your admission cut straight to the core of his being, striking a chord within him that resonated with a depth of longing he didn't fully understand.
"You need my love..." he echoed, the words sounding foreign even to his ears. He'd never been loved, let alone needed. The idea was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"I... I don't know if I can give you that. I've never been loved, and I've never loved anyone the way I think I should. you deserve all the love there is in this world, and I don't think I can give you that."
His voice cracked with emotion, betraying the turmoil of feelings welling up inside him.
"you can,"
You step closer still holding his face you pull a hand away to grab his scarred one and place it on your waist and putting your hand on his chest over his heart gingerly.
"You have so much love in your heart that you can't help but let it spill over. You try to act so cold and calloused to everyone but we all feel you how much you love us. "
At your touch, Azriel felt a surge of emotion course through him, his heart pounding wildly against your palm. He stared down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception or manipulation, but found only sincerity and vulnerability.
"You really believe that, don't you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"That I have love to give?"
He hesitated for a moment, then placed his other hand tentatively on your waist. The warmth of your body seeped into his chilled skin, melting some of the ice that had encased his heart for so long.
"I want to believe it," he admitted, his gaze dropping to your lips once more.
"But I'm afraid of putting you in a dangerous situation that you never need to be in. Afraid of losing control and doing something that could harm you. We both know that my work is extremely dangerous and if you got pulled into that I would never fucking forgive myself"
"Azriel... Your the bravest male I've ever met, please don't stop being brave." You take a final step faces inches apart
Azriel's breath hitched as you closed the remaining distance between you, your bodies nearly touching. He could feel the heat radiating off you, drawing him in like a moth to flame.
"Brave doesn't mean fearless, y/n," he said, his voice low and husky.
"Sometimes bravery means facing your deepest fears, even when every instinct tells you to run." You whisper gingerly brushing you fingers over his leathers laying over his heart.
He reached up, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he tilted your head back slightly. His thumb brushed against your lower lip, sending shivers down your spine.
"I'm just scared of failing you, of not being able to protect you. But I'm also scared of missing this chance, of letting my fears hold me back from trying to give us the life the cauldron has laid out for us."
"Then don't let your fears hold you back Az, let me hold them instead." You hold his hand over your cheek and guide his thumb over your lip again gently.
Azriel's resistance crumbled under your gentle guidance, his thumb gliding over your soft, plump lips with a tenderness that surprised even him. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he savored the scent of your skin, the warmth of your breath.
"cauldron..." he murmured, his voice thick with longing.
he closed the final inch of distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tentative and desperate, holding your sides as delicately as fine china.
🔥🔥🔥
you surge you hand up to tangle in his hair and let out an audible cry of relief into his mouth.
Azriel groaned softly into the kiss as your hand tangled in his hair, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips to explore the warm cavern of your mouth.
As he kissed you, Azriel felt a weight lift from his shoulders, a burden he hadn't realized he carried until it was gone. In your embrace, he found a sense of peace, of belonging, that he had never known before.
Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, panting lightly as he struggled to catch his breath. "Y/n, I've wanted this for so long," he confessed, his voice rough with emotion.
"Wanted to hold you, touch you, taste you now."
"then don't fucking stop now." You practically begged, chasing his lips.
Your impassioned plea sent a jolt of desire through Azriel, his grip on you tightening as he ground his hips against yours, the hard length of his arousal pressing insistently against your belly.
"Oh, god, baby," he gasped, his breath hot against your skin.
"I won't stop, not now, not ever again." His hands trailing down to your ass, gently kneading the flesh under your fighting leathers.
"You're mine, and I'm going to fuck you so hard, make you scream my name until you forget everyone else exists."With that declaration, Azriel swept you up into his arms and winnowed you back to the house of wind before.
carrying you towards his bedroom as he devoured your mouth in a frenzy of kisses, his hands roaming your curves with a hunger that bordered on desperation. your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you and you press your breasts against his chest, mewl desperately against his lips.
The sound of your moans vibrating against his lips was music to Azriel's ears, fueling his already raging desire. He kicked open the door to his bedroom, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity as he laid you down onto the plush mattress.
"Gods, babygirl," he growled, his hands tracing the outline of your curves as he knelt beside you, his eyes devouring every inch of your exposed flesh. "You're so beautiful, so perfect..."
Without another word, he began to undress you, peeling away each layer of your leathers with a reverence that belied his usual cool demeanor. As he revealed your skin to his hungry gaze, he marveled at the sight, at the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the sweet dip of your navel.
"And you smell divine,"
Azriel couldn't help but lean down, his tongue darting out to trace a path along the delicate line of your collarbone, savoring the taste of your skin. He licked and nibbled his way down your body, pausing to lavish attention on each breast, his tongue swirling around your nipples before taking them into his mouth, sucking gently.
His hands weren't idle either, slipping down to cup your ass, squeezing the firm flesh as he continued his descent. His shadows hooked around the sides of your panties, dragging them down your thighs with a teasing slowness that left you squirming beneath him.
"Tell me what you want, baby," he whispered against your skin, his voice a husky murmur.
"What do you crave? Tell me how to make you come undone?"
you reached down to Palm the tent in his fighting leathers at the words and using your other hand to wrap the scared flesh of his hand around your throat.
"I want you to use me, own me Azriel."
At your command, Azriel's heart pounded with a wild rhythm, his cock throbbing in your grasp. He allowed you to control his movements, his hand tightening around your throat in a gesture that was both possessive and protective while one of his larger shadows gently brushed against the side of your face in stark contrast.
"You're mine now, babygirl," he breathed, his voice laced with raw need.
"And I plan to worship every gods-damned inch of you."
With that promise, he slid down further, his lips trailing kisses along your inner thigh, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. He paused just above where you needed him most, his eyes locking with yours as he teased you mercilessly.
"Do you want more?" he asked, his voice a seductive whisper. "Do you want my mouth on you, tasting you?"
"gods yes please!" You hold his hand tightly around his throat encouraging him to squeeze harder what you arch your back of the bed in hopes of inching your cunt closer to his mouth.
Azriel's grip around your throat tightened slightly at your eager response, his thumb applying just enough pressure to send a thrill of excitement through you. With a low growl, he finally gave in to your pleas, his mouth descending upon your dripping folds.
He lavished your pussy with attention, his tongue delving deep inside you as he fucked you with slow, deliberate strokes while flicks of dark swirl around your clit. He explored every inch of your sex, savoring the taste of your arousal, the feel of your slick walls clenching around his tongue.
As he ate you out, Azriel's free hand roamed your body, palming your breasts, pinching your nipples, leaving trails of fire and cold in its wake. He could feel your climax building, could taste your sweet submission on his tongue, and it only fueled his own desire.
"come on babygirl, ride my face while you come."
He brought one of your hands to tangle in his hair and wrapped his arms around the tops of your thighs encouraging you to buck into his tongue.
Your hips bucked off the bed as you came hard on his tongue, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your juices flowing freely as you cried out his name, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close.
Azriel drank in your release, his tongue lapping up every drop of your essence as he savored the taste of your pleasure. He held you tight, his mouth never leaving your pussy as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, your cries of ecstasy music to his ears.
Only when you finally went limp did he release you, his face glistening with your arousal. He crawled up your body, his chocolate eyes blazing with a fierce possessiveness as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss.
"Now it's my turn," he growled against your lips, his hands tearing at his leathers to free his straining cock.
"Get on your knees, baby, I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."
You eagerly roll onto your stomach and push yourself off the bed and onto your knees Infront of him batting your lashes and staring up at him with lust filled eyes.
Azriel watched you move, his heart pounding with a mix of desire and admiration. Your eagerness was intoxicating, fueling his own need even further. He discarded his leathers completely, revealing his veined cock, throbbing with need.
Azriel's breath caught in his throat at the sight of you kneeling before him, your eyes filled with hunger and desire. He ran a hand through your disheveled hair, his fingers tangling in your locks as he guided your head towards his aching cock.
"Open wide, love," *he murmured, his voice thick with need.
"Show me how much you need me."
you took him into your mouth, Azriel let out a low groan, his hips bucking involuntarily. Your warm, wet mouth felt like heaven, and he had to fight the urge to thrust too hard, too fast. Instead, he set a steady pace, his hands guiding your head as you sucked the tip every time he pulled out.
"Fuck, good girl," he gasped, his grip tightening in your hair. "You fucking feel incredible..."You moaned softly as you took him deeper into your mouth working your tongue over his cock, your hands reaching up to cup his balls as you continue to suckle on his cock.
The sensation of your tongue working over his length, coupled with the feeling of your hands on his balls, sent jolts of pleasure coursing through Azriel's body. He watched you, entranced by the sight of your lips stretched around his cock, the sound of your soft moans vibrating against him.
"That's right, baby," he purred, his voice heavy with lust.
"Take all of me... Show me how much you want this..."
He began to move faster, his hips rocking into your mouth, setting a rhythm that had him teetering on the brink of release. His fingers threaded through your hair, urging you on, pushing you to take him even deeper.
"fuck yes! Good girl, just like tha- oh such fucking good girl!"
You moan louder now sending subtle vibrations down his shaft, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck harder on his cock, taking him deeper each time until he hits the back of your throat. You gag softly but quickly recover and continue sucking him off as if your life depends on it.
The feeling of your throat constricting around his cock was almost too much for Azriel to bear. He grunted, his hands gripping your hair tighter as he fucked your mouth with abandon, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.
"Oh gods, baby..." he groaned, his voice ragged with need.
"You're going to make me come so fucking hard..."
His cock throbbed in your mouth, signaling his imminent release. With a final, powerful thrust, he spilled his seed into your willing mouth, his cum coating your tongue and spilling down your chin.
"That's it... Swallow it all..."
Swiping your fingers over your chin you collect the molten cream and swallow every last drop of his cum, your throat working to milk him dry, your eyes locked on his as you gaze up at him with a look of complete satisfaction and devotion.
Azriel watched, transfixed, as your throat bobbed swallowing his cum, your tongue working to milk him dry. He let out a satisfied sigh, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as he admired the look of complete satisfaction on your face.
"You're amazing," he murmured, pulling out of your mouth and offering you a hand up.
"I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did."
With a smile, he pulled you into his arms for a deep, passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your body as he savored the taste of you still lingering on his tongue.
You lean into his touch, your body pressed tightly against his as you kiss him back just as passionately, your hands running over his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin.
Azriel dominated you mouth with a throaty moan, his hands exploring your curves with a growing urgency. He broke away from the kiss only long enough to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.
"I want more," he whispered huskily,
"but I think we should save some energy for later."With that, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you back to the bed where he laid you down, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked down at you.
You giggle lightly as he lays you back down on the bed, your legs parting slightly as you invite him closer.
Azriel's gaze followed the movement of your legs, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he saw the invitation in your eyes. He climbed onto the bed, settling between your thighs, his weight supported on his elbows as he gazed down at you.
"Impatient little thing, aren't you?" he teased, his voice low and playful.
He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before giving it a gentle bite.
"But don't worry, love. I plan to take full advantage of that"
Feeling your hands in his hair, Azriel gave a low chuckle, the vibration of his laughter traveling straight to your breasts. He continued his attentions, alternating between teasing your nipples and tracing patterns across your skin with his tongue.
"Hmm, sounds like someone wants more," he murmured, his voice muffled against your flesh.
Pulling back slightly, he shifted his position, aligning his cock with your slick entrance. Without another word, he pushed inside you, filling you completely with a single, smooth stroke.
You arch your back, pressing your breasts back into his waiting mouth as he teases and bites at your sensitive nipples, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your hands find their way to his hair, tangling in the strands as you pull him closer, desperate for more of his touch.
"Fucking hell, babygirl..." he groaned, his hips beginning to rock slowly as he adjusted to your tight warmth. impatience."
He moved to your other breast, lavishing the same attention upon it, all while grinding his hardening cock against your core. Your back arches off the bed as he fills you, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the sudden intrusion. But as he begins to move, slow and deliberate, you relax into him, your inner walls clenching around his thickness.
"Ah... yes..." you breathe out, your hands tightening in his hair.
"Just like that... Don't stop..."
Hearing your plea, Azriel picked up the pace, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. Each thrust drove him deeper into your welcoming heat, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
"Gods, you feel incredible," he growled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dueling with yours as he fucked you relentlessly.
His hands roamed your body, squeezing your ass cheeks, tracing the curve of your waist, and finally, cupping your breasts once again, thumbing your nipples into stiff peaks.
You meet his kiss with equal fervor, your tongue dancing with his as you lose yourself in the sensation of being filled so completely. Your legs wrap around his ass, pulling him even deeper within you, urging him on.
"Oh god, Azriel!" you cry out, your walls spasming around him, milking him for all he's worth.
Feeling your orgasm ripple through you, Azriel let out a guttural roar, burying himself as deep as he could go as he found his own release. He came hard, pulsing streams of hot cum inside you, his body shuddering with the force of it.
"baby Fuck, y/n-" he gasped, collapsing forward, catching himself on his elbows to keep from crushing you before pulling out and gently resting himself on top of you, his hips still between your legs and his head resting on your breasts.
He stayed there for a moment, panting, his heart pounding against your chest, before slowly rolling to the side, taking you with him so you were draped across his chest.
"That was... intense," he panted, his fingers trailing lazily up and down your spine.
"Are you okay, baby?"
"Yeah... That was amazing." you murmur, snuggling closer to him, enjoying the afterglow of their lovemaking.
As you lay there, spent and satisfied, your the aftershocks of your orgasm. You nod weakly, a contented smile tugging at your lips.
Azriel smiled, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as you nestled against him. He could feel the warmth of your body pressed to his, the steady beat of your heart against his chest.
"I know, baby," he said softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.
"And it's only going to get better from here."
His hand trailed lower, his fingers finding your hip, where he gave a gentle squeeze.
"Now rest, we've got plenty of time to explore more later when you can feel your legs again." He taunted with a tired grin.
You sigh contentedly with a fucked out smile on your face, feeling utterly relaxed and loved. You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his body envelope you, and drift off to sleep in his arms.
Watching you drift off to sleep, Azriel couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment. Here, in his embrace, safe and protected, with his beautiful mate, it was everything he could ever want. And now, it seemed, he had it all.
With a final lingering look, he allowed himself to relax fully, his breathing evening out to match yours. As he drifted toward sleep, he knew one thing for certain - this was just the beginning.
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meanbossart · 10 months ago
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Pin!
Hi, I'm RJ (Male, 27 years old) I'm a -usually- horror oriented artist and collaborator alongside my partner and better-half @barbatusart, though I'm currently on a Baldur's Gate 3/DnD streak with both my art and writing, specifically centered around the Dark Urge I created for my campaign and his antics, so that's most of what you will find here!
I want to leave a warning right here that I occasionally venture into delicate topics in regards to character lore and history - though none of it strays too far from what the game already delves into and I try to give a heads-up ahead of time whenever I feel like something might catch someone off-guard otherwise.
PATREON WHERE I POST WIPS, SKETCHES, UNRELEASED ART, ALL OF MY NSFW CONTENT, ETC : patreon.com/meanbossart/
BLUESKY WHERE I PUT UP FULL VERSIONS OF *SOME* OF THE NSFW THAT I CAN'T POST HERE: bsky.app/profile/meanbossart.bsky.social
TWITCH WHERE I STREAM SOMETIMES: twitch.tv/meanboss14
PSA: I get a lot of asks and I'm slow to go through them, please don't take it personally :U
Anyway, here's the guy of the hour:
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🚨FAQ BELOW🚨
Q: Does your Durge have a name? A: Nope! I named him "drow" when I played the game because I didn't feel like thinking up anything special. His lack of a name has become part of the character's lore and you will find him to always be tagged with "DU drow", or referred to as The Drow or just Drow.
Q: Where can I read your BG3 fan-fiction? And what is it about? A: Right here! The main plot follows DU Drow, Astarion, and Shadowheart on a new adventure that fractures into a couple of different directions, but mainly focuses on the aftermath of the spawn that Astarion has released and the personal development of the main cast, alongside a number of original characters that get involved in the narrative. My goal was to create a kind of "DLC" experience, so you can expect a lot of themes that parallel the main game.
Q: Can I draw one of your characters, a scene from your story, or any of your characters interacting with mine/other characters? And can it be NSFW in nature? A: YOU ABSOLUTELY CAN, AND I'LL BE DELIGHTED TO SEE IT IF YOU CARE TO SHARE. I'm equally fine with NSFW as long as everyone involved (in the art and otherwise) is an adult.
Q: What drawing software/tablet/brushes do you use? A: I draw on a Wacom Cintiq 22, using Clip Studio Pro. I switch around brushes quite often but most of what I use comes from the DAUB super-bundle by Paolo Limoncelli.
Q: Where can I find more of your work? A: You can find mine and my partner's comics here, but please bear in mind that most of it is highly violent stuff and you should read the content warnings on the store page carefully before making any purchases - if in doubt of whether or not any of it could be detrimental to your mental health, DON'T BUY IT. Stay safe!
Q: Do you take commissions? A: I am not currently taking any new commission inquiries, sorry!
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entitled-fangirl · 4 months ago
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Warrior.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
Summary: Cregan and the reader spend the day with their children.
A/n: based on an ask! Also, the next wip is Luck P3! My goal is to get it out by late tonight!
Masterlist
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She rested a hand on her swollen stomach as she moved down the hall. 
An unusual crease in her brow.
"Where is my husband?" She asked a servant as they passed.
"Outdoors, my lady. The courtyard was the last place I saw him."
She nodded, moving further down the corridor.
He was indeed where the servant had said.
He stood with a wooden sword in hand, easily blocking the blows from the children who dared to swing their own swords at him.
Their two babes.
Rickon and Alys.
She smiled as she neared them, watching as they tried their hardest to best their father. 
Cregan turned his head at the sound of her nearing, lowering his sword with a smile.
Rickon swung his sword into Cregan's shin, making him let out a small growl.
That anger vanished as quickly as it had come. 
"You're training warriors out here, my love?" She asked.
He brought her into his arms, kissing the top of her head, "Ah, yes. I do believe we'll have the strongest swordsmen in the realm at this rate."
Rickon ran to her, hugging her leg.
"I swear, Stark, you'd start training them out of the womb if you could."
He grinned, "Perhaps I'll try with this next one."
She moved to bend down to Rickon, but Cregan quickly scooped the boy up to keep her from exerting herself.
"Only three and you're already a better swordsman that I am, isn't that right, my boy?"
Rickon nodded with a grin at his father.
She leaned forward, placing a kiss to the boy's cheek. He grimaced and wiped it off.
Cregan grinned, "Don't wipe that off. That's something to treasure."
Rickon looked between his two parents unsure.
Cregan continued, "A lady's kiss is good luck. It's a blessing of sorts. You don't want to wipe it off, boy." He turned to his wife, "I'll show you."
She smiled and leaned to her husband, holding his face with one hand and kissing his cheek on the other side. Cregan closed his eyes at the feeling. 
He looked back at his son, "Now, I'll win every battle I come across as long as I have it."
Rickon gawked, "Really?"
He grinned, "Truly. Now," he set the boy to the ground, "Perhaps you should go best your sister."
The boy ran off to his sister who swung at a practice dummy. 
Cregan turned back to his wife, bringing her to him once again, this time landing a soft kiss to her lips.
"You're giving him false hope by doing that," she stated.
"How so?" 
"He'll truly believe it."
Cregan placed a hand over her swollen stomach. "Oh, no. He'll believe he should respect women and fight for them on the battlefield!" He gave her a mocking smile, "How horrid am I of a father?"
"Cregan!" She laughed, "I mean it!"
"Starks are strong wolves. He'll manage, I'm sure."
She sighed and leaned into him, "Fine, but I won't be comforting him when he loses."
He laughed, "Yes, you will."
"I know I will."
About then, a small cry came from the two children. 
Alys sat in the dirt, her wooden sword long forgotten as she held her arm.
Rickon ran to the pair, "You're right! I did it! I did it!"
The two parents looked at one another silently before moving to their stations. 
Y/n knelt down to Rickon, "You've won?"
He nodded, "I bested her with your blessing!"
She pulled the sword from the boy's hand, "Rickon, tell me. Which do you believe would win a spar? Your papa or your mama?"
He answered almost immediately, "You would."
She grinned, "And why do you think that is?"
"Papa wouldn't fight you. He doesn't want to hurt you."
She nodded, "Exactly. So now tell me, do you believe you did right by beating your sister?"
Cregan moved to the girl, kneeling down and scooping her to him, "Does it hurt?"
Alys nodded.
"Let me see then."
A nasty bruise was beginning to form on her bicep.
Cregan let out a breath, "A worthy hurt, I'd wager."
"It's not fair!" She cried, "He didn't fight like a gentleman. He was breaking the rules!"
Cregan smiled, "He is only three, Alys. You're almost six now."
"But he just swings it about until it hits something!"
"I know, my girl. It'll hurt for a few days, but it'll pass. Like all injuries do."
Alys frowned, "You don't get hurt. Do you, Papa?"
Cregan let out a small sigh, "I do. Quite often. Injuries only happen to the best warriors, you know."
"Really?"
"Oh yes." He grinned with his next words, "And the best part? The best warriors also get up and dust themselves off when they wish to give up the most."
She scoffed, "Why would they do that?"
Cregan shrugged, "I dunno. Why do you think they do that?"
She thought for a while, "Because they fight for a reason?"
He smiled and kissed her forehead, "Smart girl. Now," he pulled her up to stand. "We're warriors, aren't we?"
She nodded.
"Then let's get up now, dust ourselves off, yeah?"
Y/n watched with Rickon in her arms as Alys hugged her father.
"Are they sleeping well?" He asked as she entered their chambers.
"Like the dead," she sighed. 
He grinned, "Then we've done well, my love. C'mere."
He pulled her into a sweet kiss.
"I've been thinking," she started.
He pulled away with a furrowed brow.
"What if the next one does not wish to be a warrior?"
Cregan leaned away from her in thought before answering, "I suppose we need writers and priests and artists all the same."
"But it's not the Stark way," she argued.
He grinned and grabbed her by the arms, "I do not care if our children end up as the king's fools. One will take Winterfell, and the rest are free to explore the world as they see fit."
"And what of the one that takes Winterfell?"
"We'll know when they get older. One of them will treasure it, I'm sure. And I will name them my heir. I have a feeling it'll be Alys."
"And what if Alys wishes to retire her sword at age six and be a proper lady?"
He let out a light laugh, "Then she shall be a most formidable lady, but I will respect it nonetheless."
She hugged him as well as she could with her swollen stomach. 
"The Stark way isn't given as is, it's created by generation. Our grandchildren could change the Stark name entirely for all we know."
She grimaced, "I hope they don't."
"No?" He grinned. 
"I hope it stays firm. Colder than the Wall."
He chuckled, "Then you must let me train this next one from the womb."
She playfully hit his chest with a laugh.
"I'll have them winning tournaments at eight, I promise you!"
She shook her head with a smile, "You have them winning tournaments, and I'll have your head."
He grins, "Whatever my lady wishes."
She rolls her eyes, "Take me to bed, Stark."
He kisses her cheek, "With pleasure."
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Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn
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miru667 · 6 months ago
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The whole Once-ler family is working full tilt!
Here's my full piece for the VK Onceler Zine! I was very lucky to get to be a part of it...🥹 I used concept art as my inspiration this time: [link] Keep reading below for my process vid and all my director's commentary!
Thank you for being curious! Here's a video of my WIPs:
Deadlines were TIGHT for this zine! We were given only 2 months (compared to the 6 months I had on the previous onceler zine), so to make sure I could finish on time, I decided to do only base colours and lighting, with almost no shading anywhere. Still, trying to balance all the colours took the longest for me, as you can see in the vid. xP
Also idk if anyone noticed, but for the face I chose to use an already existing onceler doodle: [link] Why? Well, why not! I really liked that doodle and I didn't want it to go to waste. 😆
Things that I enjoyed sneaking in:
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-the golden spiral! Vaguely, at least! At the very least I hope your eyes can follow the order of thneed production, from the fallen tree at the window to the tuft harvesting to the thread spinning, to knitting the thneed and then drawing up plans for bigger and better things, and then ending with him pulling on his iconic glove to show he's going to take control now
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-15 cents, a nail, and a great great great grandfather snail, as well as a tin pail since that's where you're supposed to deposit your payment
-combining things from the 2012 movie and concept art, the 1972 movie, and the 1971 book (e.g. that funny wrench he uses to fix pipes)
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-Miss O'Schmunce-ler! You can see from the vid that I added the bracelet pretty late, because it was a late decision to have a Miss O'Schumunce-ler somewhere. I chose her to be the one picking up the pencil in the end, since she's pretty good with a pencil in the movie hehe. You guys can pretend the arms holding the phone is Miss Funce-ler.
-a thneed, a seed, and a (grickle grass) weed on the floor. The thneed is just the first of many that will soon create a giant pile. The seed lies forgotten in the corner. The weed is foreshadowing the future.
-hinting that Lorax and Once-ler were actually good friends, like they were in the Lorax musical stageplay. 🥺 I kept this part of the script in my mind for this piece:
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This was aftermath Once-ler talking to the Lorax, reminiscing on their good times...and also being stupid and inconsiderate because the Lorax was in fact there all along as his friend, trying to warn him of what was going to happen. 😔
So in my zine piece we're witnessing a peaceful time before all the real biggering really starts. I like to think that in this scene, the Lorax had been sitting on the Once-ler's lap, holding his gloves for him and having a nice chat together with maybe some harmless bickering, but then the Once-ler gets a phone call so he cuts their convo short and rolls his chair over to the window to answer it. Putting business over friendship as usual, of course. Inspo for the lap sitting comes from this fanart by Emi that I love: [link]
What else...the parts that I'm proud of the most are the stool (I spent 2 days just drawing this stool), the curtains, the fact that I was able to include every truffula colour, and the Once-ler's pose. I was close to giving up on that pose because I had no idea how to draw it but I'm glad that I tried again. I wanted to show him at ease during a stage in his life that we never got to see much: the happier and more innocent days of his biggering when he only had a small shop. 😊
That's all, I think! Thanks for reading if you did! Once again it was an honour to be part of this zine!!
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tourettesdog · 16 days ago
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Beta Reading and Fanfiction
I’ve been writing for a long time myself, but it’s only been very recently that I’ve immersed myself in communities online for it. I’ve been having so much fun really diving into Danny Phantom and DPxDC fanfic, and I’ve met so many great friends doing so.
I mostly do my own writing, but I’ve really enjoyed doing some beta reading as well, especially for friends! There’s something so fun about getting to dive into a work in progress and help where you can.
But I do feel like some people might really struggle to understand how to beta read, or what makes a good beta reader— especially where fanfiction is concerned. I’ve been extremely fortunate to have wonderful beta readers, but I’ve had some friends frustrated with the beta reading they’ve in turn received, or otherwise feeling uncomfortable in asking for a beta reader since they don’t know what to expect.
So, how should beta reading work? How do you do a good job?
Above all, the most important thing about beta reading is communication with your author. You are not in their WIP to prove how good of a writer you are, or to hammer their work into what you would personally be proud to present online. You are there to help, in whatever way the author has asked or communicated they're comfortable with.
Before you beta read anything it is vital to ask what the author is looking for in a beta reader. There are a number of things you can ask in particular, including:
What are you looking for help with?
Do you just want me to look for typos or confusing sentences?
Do you want suggestions for things to add?
Do you want suggestions on grammar, or other more in-depth writing suggestions?
Do you need help with characterization, or even the plot?
Depending on who you are beta reading for, you might have someone who only wants a very light beta touch. They might just want you to look for glaring mistakes, or for confirmation that a plot beat makes sense. 
Other authors might want something much more involved! They might be trying to improve their grammar, or perhaps they're not very familiar with writing a new character and they would like suggestions for how to better capture their voice.
Regardless of what an author wants in a beta reader, you won't know unless you ask them! It's possible that you simply might not be compatible as beta reader and author, depending on their answer, and there's nothing wrong with that. It's okay to step back and say "I personally like to beta read things more in depth than this, so I might not be the best person to give it a look."
Otherwise, getting an answer about your author's preferences can help you figure out how to help them. Perhaps you would normally make more suggestions, but if an author has specified that they're not comfortable with that, then it's not your job as their beta reader to do so. If you are capable of sticking to the help they've asked for, then you will ultimately be fulfilling your role as their beta reader admirably.
"But I'm just trying to help. Their work has a lot of places it could improve!"
Again, beta reading is not about shaping a story into something you would personally present as your writing. It is about helping the author produce a story they're comfortable with and proud of.
It's not about being right, or heavily criticizing their writing and grammar abilities (unless this is what the author has explicitly requested!)
Especially while writing fanfiction, the work presented is not something that will ever see publishing, or that needs to have flawless grammar and syntax. This is work done for free, and it is done for fun.
And that's something very vital to beta reading—
A beta reader needs to preserve the fun.
It's very daunting, putting your work out there for others. It's especially daunting putting your work up for analysis of any kind. You're accepting that people might not understand your vision, or may judge you for what you've written.
It's all too easy to compare yourself to other creatives online, and to overthink and overanalyze your talents. Too often, it’s easy to get discouraged and feel like your work isn’t good enough.
Beta reading should never be done in a way that will discourage writing. Even if an author has asked for a lot of help, it’s important to pick your battles with what you choose to analyze, and to check in with them if you feel like you might be crossing boundaries or covering their work in too much metaphorical red ink.
When people are trying to improve their writing, you don’t always have to mark every little suggestion you think of. Unless the author is a friend you know well, or has explicitly asked for Extreme measures of help, it might be best to ignore some smaller writing issues and focus instead on bigger things. 
If you’ve already marked a lot of issues in one paragraph, but have more things you could say, consider if the additional suggestions are vital or if it might be better to leave them be. After all, if your author is looking to improve, and if you are planning to beta read for them again in the future, then helping them with more glaring issues now will help them in a way that is not overwhelming, and will open the door for other kinds of suggestions to be better understood and absorbed. 
You can always check in with your author if you’re unsure, too. Ask them if they appreciate the amount of suggestions you’ve given them, or if it’s been too much. Your author might be uncomfortable with telling you that they’re overwhelmed, and checking in is a good way to ensure that you’re both on the same page.
All that being said, though, it is also important to not always focus on things to fix and improve. You’re not just editing the story, you’re reading it. Part of keeping beta reading fun is engaging in that story as any reader would. It both helps morale, and helps let the author know what they’re doing right, when you take the time to tell them what you enjoy about the work you’re beta reading!
There are so many ways you can express positive things about an author’s writing. Consider:
“I love how you phrased this sentence here.”
“This body language feels natural and very in character!”
“I love this word choice here.”
“This part was really funny and had me laughing.”
“I’m excited to see where this goes!”
You’re reading a story, and you must have thoughts and feelings on it outside of suggestions. Let your author know! People thrive on positive feedback, and there’s just as much to be gained in marking Positive attributes to a story as there is in noting places to improve.
The last major thing I feel is vital to beta reading is respecting that it is your author’s work, and that your suggestions (however clever or helpful you feel they are) may be rejected. And that that is okay. 
Suggestions are just that— suggestions.
What you might like in creative writing might not necessarily be what your author wants to express. You might love to use ellipses, or lots of different dialogue tags, while your author might prefer dashes and more standard dialogue tags. You might like to use more colorful descriptions of scenery and atmosphere, while your author might want to focus much more on the character body language and dialogue. You might like to use a lot of exclamation points and next to no italics, while your author might like a lot of italics and very little exclamation points. 
You’re ultimately two different people, with two different ideas of what is an ideal way to tell a story. And while you can give many different suggestions on just about anything the author might add, remove, or change, it’s ultimately the author’s choice whether or not they accept those changes.
It’s not your job as a beta reader to double down and insist that they accept a specific suggestion. It’s not your job to make a case for why you think they need to change something. If an author has denied a suggestion— it’s best to let it go. Especially if you don’t know them well, and don’t have a very good rapport with them, pushing the issue will only serve to make you both uncomfortable.
It’s not just about picking your battles, but also about mutual respect. You’re not a teacher, nor an editor looking to make their work prime for publishing. You have to respect their decisions for their own story, even if that means they decide not to take a suggestion you felt would be impactful. 
It’s also always important to keep in mind that writing style, particularly where creative writing is concerned, can vary wildly. The strict rules that you learn in school were made to be broken. You learn them to figure out how to break them and, particularly when writing for fun, it doesn’t even matter if you’re breaking those rules in a perfect way. It’s fanfiction. It’s freeform, it’s fun. If someone wants to make a habit out of going buckwild with their writing style, there’s really no reason to try and corral their writing into a box labeled “High School English 101”. 
You can’t force someone to write their fanfiction like it’s going to go to a letter grade, nor should you try to unless they’re looking for that level of editing. 
Be willing to listen, and pay attention to what is and isn’t working. It’s good to take note of suggestions that your author has already commented on. Have they thanked you for pointing out something in particular? Have they expressed they feel weak with something in their writing?
Is there a type of suggestion that you keep making that they have rejected multiple times?
Work with their strengths and with their style. Focus on suggestions that have been received well, and consider letting go of ones that the author clearly has no interest in, or that might conflict with their style.
Communicate and respect each other, above all else.
Beta reading is such a helpful and wonderful thing someone can do for an author. I’ve been so thankful to have it done for my own work, and I try my best to be helpful and considerate when I’ve beta read myself. 
Having my work beta read has really helped me find things to improve upon in my writing, and has helped me feel more confident in the stories I’ve posted, just having another eye look over them before they hit the internet. I don’t always take all of their suggestions, and might disagree from time to time with the direction they want something to go in, but I’ve been thankful to have understanding, kind betas that work with me well. 
And that’s one more point I want to touch on too, is that I hope that, as a beta reader, you find yourself with authors that show you mutual respect in turn. That they thank you for the work you’ve put in to help them succeed, and have made the experience positive for you as well.
It always makes me happy to see beta readers credited on posted works. It’s a kind thing for writers to show appreciation, and to acknowledge that someone helped shape the words you see on the page. 
This got much longer than I intended it to, but I just hope that this post might help some people in some way. Either to understand beta reading and the purpose of it, or how to potentially go about it themselves. 
I really recommend giving beta reading a try if you’re comfortable with it, especially if you have friends that write fanfiction! Even just an extra pair of eyes looking for typos can be a godsend for someone who has spent hours upon hours staring at a long fic and editing it.
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greenplumbboblover · 5 days ago
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[WIP] Lyralei's Pose addon - Part 2
(See previous post: Click me!)
First things first, MASSIVE thanks to @thesweetsimmer111 for all the help to make this work better and sharing her knowledge on Track masks with me (and the world!)
👀 Better Look at (with reactions!)
Maybe it’s just me, but I used to get endlessly frustrated when Sims wouldn’t properly turn their heads to face an item. So, I set out on a little mission to make their head movements more natural! Unfortunately, that didn’t go as planned—turns out EA’s code for the “Look At” feature is completely deprecated and no longer functional.
Knowing I couldn’t just code a fix, I had to explore other approaches. That’s when @thesweetsimmer111 came up with a brilliant solution: blending left, right, up, and down poses to create a more convincing look-at effect! 🎉
(See: Post)
What's different?
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Here's the original pose, without Look at turned on....
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On the left, we got VA's original look at.
On the right is what Savanita and I came up with! :)
don’t want to make it seem like the original Look At feature was awful—it actually works pretty well in some cases! For example, in this pose, if the plant were on the other side, the difference wouldn’t be that noticeable since her head is already tilted slightly. 😊
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(Same layout again: Left = VA's, Right = Me and Savanita's approach)
Plus, maybe you do want something more subtle, then VA's Look at is great!
Anyways! Of course, I couldn't stop there! Now, your sim has a few options of turning towards the object:
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(Note, this list will get 10x cooler in the next feature ;D)
This list is what the "trackmasks" are. :)
Okay, let's give "Eyes Only" a try. So, we expect Morgana to ONLY look at the plant, with her eyes.
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(Left is before using look at, Right is with look at, and one up for fun-cies)
And, to please @nocturnalazure's wishes, yep! It now accepts Facial Expressions! :D
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(I never would've thought I would see Evil Morgana lmao)
🎭Blending Poses/Reactions
After Savanita's amazing idea of using Track Masks, I found out that I can apply that same technique on, well, poses! And this is a feature I'm SUPER proud of (And honestly, it's taken me an entire week to get working 🙃)
First things first, when we choose the interaction, we will first be greeted by our "trackmask" list with all the selections on it
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So, I made a few examples to show of what you could do, but in all fairness, it's endless!
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Here I chose the option "Both Arms".
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Here I chose "Head And Neck". Look! She even has the expression! (Don't worry though, i also have an expression-less version in the making ;))
What about... Animations?!
While blending poses has the ability to also type in your pose names by name, rather than list, you can also use EA's!
The list is pretty long ( believe 200 entries?) but here is a sneak peek:
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Though, as far as I've been able to tell, EA reactions aren't as flexible, where I can tell it to only use the arms, or the eyes. Instead, we got these options:
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So, unless I found a way to get around it, this is the only way to do it.
But without further ado....
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Here I used the same pose(left) as the last 2 pictures, but with "OverlayHead". And chose "Boo"
(I just realised it looks like she is about to get hit by a ball lol)
🕰️ History List
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The Add-on now remembers your pose history!
Whether you’re a dedicated “Pose by Name” user or prefer the simplicity of “Show by List”, both options now display your pose history for quick reference.
Note: Each Sim has their own individual history list. This means you’ll only see the pose history for Sim X when clicking on them, and not for Sim Y.
📓What's up next?
Adding all the trackmask. (I still need add the hands and legs ones)
Adding an in-game Category maker, so you don't have to edit the XML. It will mean you need to replace the XML file in S3PE yourself. But I can always make a quick How-To for guidance 😉
(Note to self) Optimize the Categorisation code. It's currently taking 1 minute up from the loading screen 😬)
Fixing some minor bugs where Look at will still turn the sim's head back to it's original position.
Fixing some issues where Blending poses with certain track masks aren't working well or at all.
Fixing an issue where the dialogs can crash the whole game (woops!)
Sooo, I think a release date is pretty soon! I think within a week :)
Any VA Addon Bug Fixes?
Of course! It's the mod that inspired me to make stories, and even get to make this mod! I couldn't just... leave it to collect dust while it's other child mod is getting all the attention. :p
Changelog:
There is now an interaction that uses both look at & reaction simultaneously. (In case you don't want to use my look at interaction).
Fixed an issue where reactions would sometimes or never show on the sim.
Fixed an issue where using "Random Quick Poses" would occasionally show a breathing sim, doing nothing.
Fixed an issue where certain poses get called twice, making it harder to keep reactions or even look at history data.
Some minor code changes that aren't worth mentioning honestly.
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geezmarty · 2 months ago
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Curtain Falling BTS! ✨
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We're halfway through the month, which means you still have a couple weeks to grab my 2024 Shortbox Fair Comic, Curtain Falling!
I wanted to thank you for your support so far (many of you said the nicest things about it and I'm really glad you liked it!! It's the work I'm proudest of yet!) and what better way to do that than show you a BIT of the concepts and history behind it.
I will try to be as spoiler free as possible but I can't stress it enough: I think this comic is best experienced going in completely blind save for the brief description on the site.
But you can do whatever you like, so read on if you want.
I came up with the first concepts for Curtain Falling in 2021. At the time I was itching to try my hand at a short visual novel on Renpy (something that I'm still itching to do and that I may do?? Maybe soon??? My biggest maybe. Stay tuned on this page) and so I sat down and wrote a little something that didn't end up going anywhere.
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(Some of the very first concepts I drew!)
The idea for the visual novel was simple, and actually very similar to the final comic: you'd get to play out a different fairy tale at a time, the eye and the mysterious woman would always be there, and the more you played the more you would find out about the truth. I always knew what the eye and the woman were, I think the only thing that changed along the way was the very ending and some details here and there (maybe I'll do a follow up about that after the fair is over).
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(I drew this one while actively working on the comic but I feel like if I had stuck with the visual novel idea, this could be considered a concept for the "pick your fighter" screen)
After I shelved the idea, the concept just sort of sat untouched in my WIP folder for a long time. I would occasionally pick it up to roll it in my hands but I couldn't find an ending that felt satisfying to me.
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Proto designs from 2021. The mysterious woman didn't change much but the protagonist is kind of unrecognizable to me lol
Of course, at some point last year after being accepted into the fair I was like well you know which story I'd like to tackle again. That's right. The perfect ending actually came to me halfway through production (I was set on just using what I had written down because a project that's finished is always better than a project that doesn't exist even if it's not as good) but the idea just struck me and I was actually pretty divided between it and keeping what I had gotten used to.
It was only after I was on call with a couple of friends that I decided - I presented both ideas and they GASPED and went "You HAVE to use the new one!!" that I was like well you're right actually. Let's go. This is all very cryptic if you're still here without having read the comic so what are you waiting for? You could find out what made my friends gasp if you go read it now.
There's more BTS to share but I don't want to give away too much so I'll leave you with a bit of fanart I drew in celebration of the fair starting. Thank you for reading!
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sailing-through-hawkins · 1 year ago
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hello friend here is a potential lil thing for you: kas!eddie who’s a Good Boy for steve but is still growly at the others (think ‘it don’t bite’ ‘bitch yeS IT DOES’) (it’s a wip, steve is trying his best)
this ended up a lot...sweeter than i intended? and i'm not too sure about the ending but i had to stop it there or i'd end up trying to write a full fic (≧∀≦)ゞ hope you enjoy, friend!!
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“And he’s here because?”
Steve pats Eddie’s head when he hands the paprika over, smiling at his goofy (and fanged) little grin. He starts to sprinkle the spices over the pan, not even looking over his shoulder to reply, “He likes to help me cook.”
There’s a long moment of silence so Steve switches off the heat and turns around, thanking Eddie when he gives him a dishcloth to wipe his hands with. When he looks back to the group seated at the island, he has to blink to register all their faces of disbelief.
“You took our Dungeon Master,” Mike starts patiently, which Steve will give him credit for. “Who has been accused of several crimes and then got turned into a terrifying, awesome bat-man with, like, wings and teeth and shit -”
Steve could have sworn Mike used to be better at description whenever they play their sessions.
“And you’ve turned him into your sous-chef?”
Blinking, Steve looks to Eddie, who gives him a preening smile and takes the dishcloth away, and looks back to Mike, whose face is getting paler every second. “Uh,” he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Steve, I swear by all that is -”
Mike’s tirade is cut off by a growl and Steve lets out a sigh. “Hey,” he admonishes, nudging the rumbling bat-man with his elbow. “We talked about this, no growling at the kids.”
Eddie huffs and ducks his head down to bap his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. He moves his head from side to side so he’s basically rubbing his forehead into Steve and wisps of Eddie's hair brush against his neck, making Steve bite back a laugh.
Clearly, Eddie caught that and rubbed even harder into Steve’s shoulder until he broke into laughter, black eyes glancing up at him with a mischievous smile.
“You were right.”
Steve looks over to see Dustin staring at Mike’s fuming red face, deadpan. Eddie pauses.
“He’s tamed him.”
“What?” Steve sputters, choking out a laugh when Eddie moves in closer to nuzzle at his neck, hair now tickling at his nose. “Who tamed who?”
Mike sneers. “It’s whom, dumbass -”
And just like that, Steve is being held tightly against Eddie, who hisses at Mike. Thankfully, he's used to it by now and just rolls his eyes.
“Whatever.”
“Eds,” Steve pats the hand on his chest that presses him into Eddie. "It's okay, he's just having a Michael Moment."
"What the fuck did you just -"
Of course, the little shit can't keep his mouth shut and that just aggravates Eddie even further and well, time for damage control.
"No," Steve says firmly to Eddie, who blinks and stares at him. He then turns to the kids and points a finger at them. "What did we say about name-calling?"
"Bite me -"
"Dude," Lucas, golden child that he is, shakes his head and shoves at Mike's head. "Just shut up and eat your muffin."
"Thank you, Lucas," Steve grins and Eddie huffs, still holding Steve tightly against him. With a fond sigh, Steve wiggles around and manages to face Eddie, smiling at his fanged pout. "Thank you for trying to protect me, Eds."
It's something he started doing after a few days hiding out at Steve's place. At first, he was wary and would hiss whenever Steve got too close, only letting Dustin in his space, only really caring about Dustin at all. And it wasn't...unpleasant, Steve would rather he care about the kid more than anyone else than not at all. It did make cleaning him up difficult but having Dustin sit with him and ramble about whatever the hell he could seemed to help.
Then Dustin had to leave and it was just them.
And then Steve, eventually, figured out it was like trying to befriend a scared cat. Obviously, Eddie was terrified and just needed some time, space and a little bribery to adjust to the new...everything that he was.
So with some of that time and space, Steve got a chance to make his way into Eddie's exceptions and barely gets hissed at anymore, unless it's playful. Sometimes Steve hisses back, and the first time caught Eddie so off-guard that he held Steve down while sniffing around, like he was looking for whatever made the sound.
It made Steve laugh but just confused Eddie, so he did his best to imitate Eddie's chirp, the one he does whenever Dustin asks a question, and Eddie was so flabbergasted that he started chirping back without a thought. He looked half-insulted at the fact and that just set Steve off again.
Once Eddie figured out it was Steve making the noises, he got so excited that he'd always chirp at him, jumping into Steve's space and doing goofy things to make him laugh. It'd always work, duh, cause Eddie's a funny guy, even when he's half-Upside-Down-monster.
He also ended up liking Steve so much that he gets pretty overprotective, which - it's sweet, it makes Steve feel wiggly, but they're still working on who exactly Steve (and Dustin) need protecting from.
That one time when Eddie growled at Nancy for elbowing Steve would be hilarious if it wasn't so terrifying.
...It was pretty funny though.
"This is terrible." Mike says, and Will lets out a sigh. Mike gapes at him and throws his hands in Steve's general direction. "You can see how this is terrible, right?!"
"Brat," Eddie croaks under his breath, right next to Steve's ear and he doesn't even bother holding back, breaking into a bout of laughter that has him clenching at his stomach for relief. He can feel Eddie's excitement buzzing under his skin, right where his cheek rests against Steve's. "Snooty brat."
"Is he saying something?" Dustin asks excitedly and Steve has to wave him off half-heartedly, still reeling from the pain of laughing too hard. Dustin then sounds deadpan again as he says, "Oh, he's talking shit about us, isn't he?"
"Ressspect your elderrrrrs," Eddie hisses into the air with a grin and god damn, the look of pure devastation on Dustin's face -
"The first words he speaks to us since turning Demo-Eddie and it's about being respectful." Dustin hides his face in his hands. "What has the world become?"
"He gets his dramatics from you," Steve says to Eddie, who looks back at him smugly and nudges his nose into Steve's face. "Ow, hey, watch it -"
"Getsss hisss courrage f'om you," Eddie presses his lips to Steve's cheek and -
Huh.
Well.
That's new.
Wait -
"Oh my god," Steve stares at Eddie, who preens under the attention. "I have a monster boyfriend."
The kitchen breaks out into chaos and all Steve can think about is how pretty Eddie's eyes are when he's smiling.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago
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Follow You Anywhere 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: I couldn't help myself.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."
You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.
You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."
You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad.  You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.
"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."
You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.
"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.
You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.
"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."
You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.
You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.
“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…” 
You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.
You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…
“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.
You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.
A message?
You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.
‘Looked delicious too.’
“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”
‘Don't mean the toast.’
The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.
“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”
You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.
“How about some tunes?” 
You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.
‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?
“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”
You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.
You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.
You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.
“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”
You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.
🧸
You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.
The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.
The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.
You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.
You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.
As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.
You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.
🧸
You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.
You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.
You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.
You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.
A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.
'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.
You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.
'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.
You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.
🧸
You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.
The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.
"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.
As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.
You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.
You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.
"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."
All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.
You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.
As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.
"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.
You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.
"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."
You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?
"You like sweet stuff."
"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.
He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.
You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.
"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.
"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."
You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.
"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.
"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.
"I could drive you. I have a truck."
"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.
"Why not?"
"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"
"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."
"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"
"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."
"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."
"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'. 
“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."
"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."
"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.
"That's nice but--"
"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."
You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.
"BourbonBear?" You ask.
"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”
670 notes · View notes
jelliedink · 1 year ago
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Your Obsessed Butler Headcanons
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Warnings: smutty smut, non-consensual drug use, potential blackmail, manipulation, name calling. Author's note: I'm back, loves! Writer's block hit hard and left me with thousands of unfinished WIPs but nothing I could complete. Yes, this is a screen cap of One Piece Klahadore because this man has awaken things in me and I'm still not over it. I hope you enjoy! Screenshot not taken by me. Beautiful divider by @saradika
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It may be cliche, yes, but I absolutely love the obsessed butler trope. Specially one that has managed to successfully seduce their darling. Even aware that you're just using them for sex, they are still thrilled that they get the opportunity to feel your body and serve you in every way.
It's the middle of the night and you woke up hot and heavy? For them, there was no better way to wake up than to the sight of you grinding yourself on them.
Are you afraid of loud storms at night? They would hold you close and make love to you until it was gone, assuring you that as long as you were by their side, there was nothing for you to be worried about.
Felt bored out of your mind? They would organise things to run smoothly without them for the the next hours so they could give you head until their mouth was sore.
Found a new kink you wanted to try? They would hurry up the rest of the staff so they could get to your room as early as possible, ready to spend the night doing whatever you ask from them.
Suddenly felt needy during an event hosted by your parents? If you promise not to be too loud, they would manage to keep people away from the storage room for 30 minutes and lock both of you there, fucking you stupid against a wall with one hand on your mouth just to be safe.
They never, ever said no to you.
But everything comes with a price.
They manipulated you until you accepted not to use any condoms.
They had remote access to your devices and social media, and used it to sabotage every one of your relationships until they were the only ones you could rely on.
They've convinced you that you had everything you needed at home so you hardly ever went outside, staying the whole time in their field of vision.
They tempered your food when you went too long without requesting their special attention, not letting you forget what only them could make you feel.
And should the idea that you could live without them ever cross your mind, they had records of the nastiest things you both did to remind you that maybe that maybe you should think twice. But they were sure they'd never need it: they changed their appearance to your liking, learned how to fight and shoot to protect you and ran the house impeccably. They were everything you needed, so why would you be such an ungrateful bitch?
829 notes · View notes
matryosika · 1 year ago
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Recording Sessions
Pairing — 3racha and Reader
Wordcount — 3,485 words
Genre — Smut
Warnings — Dom!Chan and Changbin, Switch(sub lean)!Jisung, consensual voice recording. Dirty talk, use of petnames (slut), mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), brief spanking, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, mild cum play, sex in a recording booth.
Autor's note — Wrote this a while ago for a commission, but as I was lurking through my google drive I found this again. I think its fun and I've been meaning to post something for a while now, but I can't get anything done sadly. I think I wrote this back in may or june? I am not too sure, but I hope you like it! I've been writing for NCT these days and I have 2 wips for them. I'm also working on something with Lee Know as a character. I hope I can get any of that finished soon! Hope you enjoy this, and I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes in advance 🤍
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“Do any of you even know what a real moan sounds like?”
The look on their faces is amusing. Hadn't you been inside the recording booth, you're sure Changbin would have already headlocked you in a playful manner for running your mouth. 
But you are inside the recording booth, the three of them sitting in the studio with frustration written all over their faces.
“This sounds so fake,” you continue, taking off the headset. “What did you type in youtube to get this sample? Women moaning ASMR?”
“You’re not being helpful at all, you know that?” Changbin asks, trying to keep a serious demeanor but failing almost miserably every time he remembers the audio samples that are currently as background vocals in their upcoming song. They do sound awful, but he isn't as straight-forward as you are.
“Well, you asked for my opinion and I’m giving it to you,” the smug look on your face pisses off Chan just a little, but it is nothing new —the endless bickering between the both of you has happened ever since you two met. It's always light-hearted and friendly, but it surely does bring some tension into your friendship with him.
“Any ideas on how we can improve this?” 
“For once, get rid of all the fake moaning and get something that actually sounds like a woman being pleasured,” you instruct them, and smile when you see the three of them paying attention to your words. They have such abilities when it comes to music and producing, but they often look for constructive criticism outside their small group of three just to see things from different perspectives. “We don’t sound like that, it’s more like gasping for air and deep sighs accompanied with mostly quiet moans. This sounds like someone shouting exaggeratedly”.
“I’ve tried,” Chan murmurs, leaning back on his studio chair that he spins slightly. “But nothing sounds right. It’s a bit too much, maybe”.
“No, I do think the song calls for background sounds like these,” you encourage the trio. “It’s just- you need something more raw and real”.
There’s a quick moment of silence in which the four of you exchange glances, without exactly saying anything in particular.
Changbin and Chan look too deep into their own thoughts, probably trying to come up with another idea or alternative for that sound sample you all hate so much. Jisung, on the other hand, is staring right into you through the glass barrier that separates you from them, with an idea in mind he’s not quite sure how to deliver, but that he ends up doing it anyway. 
“What if we record you?” Jisung asks, drawing the scowling glances of the other two. “I mean, you can obviously fake them since you're a woman, right?” 
The suggestion has you cackling quietly, but even Chan and Changbin are considering it —you can tell by how they're looking at you as if they're expecting your verdict.
“Right,” you scoff, crossing both of your arms in front of your chest, “because what better way to spend my Saturday afternoon than faking moans inside a recording booth”. 
“It’s not going to take you long,” It’s Chan who speaks this time. The one you thought was going to be the least to be on board with such a crazy idea. “We all know this isn’t going to be the first time you fake them”. 
Your mouth opens in awe and you curse them mentally when they all laugh under their breaths. It was just one time, with a guy you didn’t even like, and you told them about it because you wanted to get the embarrassing memory out of your system. You were too bored, and desperate to go, that you ended up faking a series of moans that tricked him into thinking you were finished. 
“Very funny, Christopher,” you spit, resentful. “I thought you promised not to bring that shit up, ever again”.
“And I thought you promised you’d help us,” Chan attacks, “so what is it going to be?”
You look at them for a couple of seconds, pondering the situation. You can help them, you really have nothing better to do —yet a better idea comes to mind. 
“Why faking it if you can have the real deal?” you ask, nibbling at the skin against your fingernails. You’re trying to appear collected, but even suggesting such a crazy idea it’s making you feel uneasy. Unless you've gotten the signals wrong, you know they won't turn down such a proposal. “You’re all just sitting there, when one of you could help me”.
It’s Jisung who leans down over the console, clicking a red button to open the microphone.
“What exactly are you proposing?”
“Well, you were the one who pinned this on me, Han,” judging by their facial expressions, you know they understood exactly what you meant. They just want to make sure you are all on the same page. “Why don’t you come here and help me, so we can get this over with?”
“Why him?” Changbin immediately asks, offended even because you didn't consider him as your first option.
“Do you want to help me too?” you chuckle, “because I wouldn’t mind if you joined”.
“Han,” Chan’s cold voice interrupts the silence, catching the attention of the younger. He doesn’t say anything else, but rather signals for him to get inside the recording booth with a tilt of his head.
Jisung doesn’t say anything either, but his eyes flutter between you and Chan, almost begging for further instructions. He hesitates, perplexed. Not because he doesn’t want this, but because he really can’t begin to comprehend this is really happening.
“If you don’t want to, Changbin can do it,” the older speaks again.
“N-no, I mean- I can do it,” Jisung stands up from his studio chair abruptly and hastily, like he is in a rush. To be honest, he kind of is —he has been daydreaming of this moment ever since he met you, so he isn't going to waste it. Even if that means there are going to be other people watching or involved. “I just- what do I do?”
Chan and Changbin scoff quietly, teasing him. “You should ask her that question,” the former replies, crossing both of his arms and leaning back on his chair, “not us”.
“Yeah, okay”. 
Jisung walks inside the booth, swallowing thickly. Is he really about to do this? Is he dreaming? Or is this some sort of a sick joke?
He can’t help but overthink the situation, but every single one of his thoughts goes away when you welcome him into your embrace, holding him tightly against your body with his half-hard cock pressing against your lower abdomen and your tits against his toned chest. The other two are watching, and that only riles him up a lot more.
“Have you ever been this shy?” You tease him, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing your lips against his. “You’re always so cocky, always running your mouth. But right now you aren’t. I wonder why”. 
“We don’t have that much time,” Chan warns you through the speakers, and you can feel the despair in his voice. Like Changbin, he’s anticipating something and you’re edging them, just like you are to Jisung. 
“Then I’m going to need more help,” you hum, latching your fingers against Jisung’s dark hair while pulling him closer to the crook of your neck. He loses no time and starts kissing and licking the sensitive flesh, hiding his face there. You, on the other hand, look through the glass barrier proudly to the other two who are out. “From the both of you”. 
“One isn’t enough for you? Do you need the three of us?” Chan asks, poking his cheek with his tongue. Changbin, on the other hand, observes the scene in awe, with both excitement and impatience. You don't reply, but shoot an accomplice glance at the older. “I always knew you were some of a slut, I just didn’t think this much”.
“Well, now you know,” you smile, biting your lower lip when Jisung sucks on a sensitive spot a bit too harshly, “so start recording”. 
The following moments are blurry, perhaps because of how nervous you are. You try to act in control, like you're the one calling the shots. But when you feel the three of them near you, with their hands all over you, it's hard to. 
“You’re not that bold now, are you?” Chan whispers in your ear, pressing your arse against his crotch. To your sides, there’s Jisung and Changbin, who grope and kiss your body as much as the other allows them to.
“I’m doing this for you,” you sigh, kicking your head back until it meets Chan’s shoulder. 
“Right,” he scoffs, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to kneel in front of Changbin and Jisung. “We just wanted your advice, but somehow we ended up like this”.
“I wonder why,” you tease him looking up to him while your hands tease the men in front of you.
“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s such a filthy slut,” Changbin murmurs, caressing your hair back. 
You can feel them through their sweatpants —you can feel how hard and ready they are for you, how desperate they are for your touch. You wish to take your sweet time with them, to suck the three of until they come in your mouth only to fuck you afterwards. 
You want more than just a quick fuck. But this will have to do for now.
“Suck them off,” Chan orders, pleased with the sight of you on your knees. 
Good thing you’re wearing such accessible clothes today —you’re making his job ten times easier.
“Get us nice and wet, baby,” Changbin proceeds, pulling your head against his crotch while he lowers his sweatpants just enough to release his throbbing cock. “We’re going to fuck you with it, so it’s up to you how easy you’re going to make this for yourself”.
“Don’t forget Jisung too,” the one behind you murmurs into your ear, practically kneeling right beside you while he pulls up your dress, revealing a shameful piece of clothing that he can barely name as underwear. The sight makes Chan’s cock throb even harder. “See how much he’s leaking? I know he has been dreaming of this for a while now”. 
“Fucker,” Jisung hisses through gritted teeth, feeling betrayed by his friend. Truth is, he isn’t telling any lies.
“Aw, you have?” He has been infatuated with you for quite some time now, and he is too awkward to be discreet about it. You have caught him checking you out shamelessly, and it has always been a turn on for you. 
“We all have,” Changbin says, nibbling at his lower lip when you wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze both of them hard, staring up at them with a mischievous smile. “If only you knew what we talk about when you’re not around”. 
“Mh, I feel a little excluded now,” you pout. “Why don’t you guys just show me?”
You spent another ten minutes on your knees, being throat fucked by your dearest friends Changbin and Jisung. They take turns in burying their cocks inside your warm mouth, using your hair as leverage to let you know which one of them to suck next.
In the meantime, Chan just watches. 
You’re drooling all over yourself by now, your shirt ruined with a mixture of spit, precum and sweat. Your skin feels sticky, your mouth feels full and your pussy feels wet —you really wouldn’t be surprised if the floor was stained with your arousal.
“C’me here,” Chan tells you, grabbing you by your arm and helping you get in a different position. Your knees are bruised and red, but you don’t really care —tomorrow it will be a fun reminder of what happened today. “Now let’s really start recording”. 
You lay on the floor on all fours, with your ass up and your hands and knees supporting your body weight. It's an uncomfortable position, but you can only do much in a recording booth with no bed or couches.
The first one to take a spot right behind you is Changbin. Out of the three, it’s the one who seems more desperate to get his release and you kind of understand him —you’re desperate to feel something too, anything.
“I don’t have-” his voice is strangled, almost panicking. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, and the tip of his cock brushing against your slit. 
“I don’t care,” you encourage him, whimpering when Chan forces your head to face his throbbing dick that he has his fist wrapped around. “Just fuck me”.
It’s the heat of the moment that's getting the best out of you, but you can’t begin to regret it when you feel Changbin’s cock burying itself little by little inside your aching pussy. You try to hold back your moans, worrying that someone outside the hall might hear you, but you know it’s practically impossible.
Plus, that’s the reason why you’re there, anyways.
 So you start enjoying the moment, being as vocal as possible. If anything, the lewd sounds escaping through your lips are only pushing Changbin towards the edge, hips snapping at yours roughly enough to get a series of strained moans immersed in both pleasure and pain.
“You sound so g-good,” Changbin grunts, biting his lower lip to stop himself from being too loud. “Had I known your moans were this pretty, I've would've fucked you before”.
“Fuck, Changbin”. The way his name falls from your lips boosts his ego, and he’s glad everything is being recorded. He makes a mental note to go back to the recording later today, just in case he needs to unwind.
“Jisung will fuck you after him,” Chan demands your attention yet again, brushing the tip of his cock against your lips. He’s kneeling in front of you while Changbin is pounding your pussy from behind. Jisung, on the other hand, is stroking himself while he witnesses the scene; too shy to actually make a move himself, like the rest of them. “And then I will go next, how does that sound?”
“How many seconds- of the sample do you even need?” you chuckle, but the laugh is soon muffled by another whimper caused by Changbin’s ministrations. 
“Just a couple,” he replies, smearing his precum along your lips. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to leave this studio without being fucked by Jisung and me, right?”
You love his cockiness, and how he is always almost right. So you nod frantically, clenching around Changbin at the idea of being filled with the both of them in just a couple of seconds.
It doesn’t take him long to come inside you, especially not with how much your pussy is clenching around him. He does so shamelessly, grunting your name and gripping your hips too harshly you’re sure it will leave a mark tomorrow.
When he pulls out, commanded by Jisung who is too desperate to wait another second, you feel his sticky arousal leaking out of you. It’s a weird sensation, and it makes you feel dirty, but you can’t deny you like it. 
And you like it even more when you feel the tip of Jisung’s cock gathering all of his friend’s cum, fucking it back into you little by little, making sure it doesn’t go to waste.
“Who would’ve thought, hm?” You whimper, feeling a bit sore from Changbin’s aggressive care. “You’re not as innocent as I thought, Jisungie”.
He doesn’t say anything, but gives you a sharp thrust in response. One that makes your whole body jolt and tremble, one that earns you one of the prettiest moans the three of them have ever heard.
Chan is sure the recording is good to be used by now, but he doesn’t want to stop just yet. Or at least not until he also gets his fun.
“S-so tight,” Jisung murmurs, holding you more delicately than Changbin did. You love the contrast, though, and they’re both a good fuck. “And warm, all filled up with cum”.
“You’re going to fill me up too, Jisungie?” On any other occasion, the nickname would’ve earned you a killer gaze and a couple of curses from him. But right now, Jisung doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes it. There’s something enticing about you acting like the one in control.
“Can- I?” He asks with a shakily breath. His sloppy movements tell you he is close, and you take it as a compliment. A minute is definitely a record, but you’re really not mad about it. 
“That depends,” you tease him, crying out loud when his cock starts hitting sensitive spots inside your walls. “Are you going to come a lot for me?” 
“Ngh, y-yes,” Jisung whimpers. “Please, I’m- close, just let- say yes, please”.
“Go on,” you order him, arching your ass even more for him. “Give it to me”. 
Not even a couple of seconds later, you feel a now familiar sensation warming up your lower tummy, leaking through your pussy and onto your thighs. 
“Shit,” Changbin scoffs, checking the scene out. “You made a fucking mess”. 
You want to look at what he did, know how much he came for you, but Chan reinforces your initial position yet again by arching your ass even more.
“Be a good slut for me,” he tells you, landing a sharp spank on one of your ass cheeks. The sudden action makes you cry out in pain, but you don’t hate the sensation completely. “And I’ll be good to you”.
You’re not quite sure what he means, and you don’t get time to ask before he’s bottoming out inside of you. 
“Fuck!” you moan, suddenly losing the strength on your arms and your upper body threatening to plop down onto the floor. “C-chan!”
“C’me here,” he groans, sneaking a hand underneath your tummy looking for your clit. Again, the position isn’t the best but he somehow makes it work. And when you feel his digits rubbing your nerves just at the same pace of his thrusts, you start clenching around him even harder.
“Oh my g-god,” that stimulation is exactly what you need to come undone. Jisung and Changbin did a hell of a job getting you closer to your orgasm, but this is exactly what you needed to reach your climax.
And a well deserved one.
“Come,” Chan grunts through gritted teeth, biting his lower lip while furrowing his eyebrows. The sight of your ass bouncing against his cock is enough to get him to come, but he needs you to come first. “I’ll come with you”.
“Ngh- Chan,” and just like some magic words, you’re coming right after his order. He can feel you tightening around him, trying to milk his cock just as badly as you did with the other two. And he can’t resist that feeling, so he sticks up to his word and comes inside you almost at the same time. 
“Such- a good- little fucking slut,” his words are strained and painful. But his voice only contributes more to your own orgasm, just like the feeling of his cum filling you up. 
It takes the two of you a few moments to actually stop —even after coming, he kept on fucking you slowly until he made sure to fuck all of their cum inside of you. The last thing he wanted was to make a mess inside the recording booth, but it was inevitable. 
The floor is stained with all sorts of fluids, ones that are dripping out of your swollen pussy and others that no one knows how they got there. 
“Jisung,” Chan sighs, caressing your hips while fixing his clothes. “Stay with her, I’ll go get something to clean her up. Make sure she’s alright, and take her to the sofa in the studio, ‘kay?”
Jisung nods, attentive, and he helps you get up off the floor with ease. He wraps his arm around you, and fixes the top part of your dress to which you mutter a quick and soft thank you. 
“Changbin’s going to get you something to eat or drink, and I’ll take care of this. Alright?” 
You nod, still supporting your whole weight on Jisung. Your sore legs can only do much.
“He’s going to be with you in the meantime, but we will all be right back,” Chan’s soft gaze is the opposite to what he showed inside the recording booth, but you absolutely adore the contrast. 
“Yeah, ‘s okay,” you smile. 
“You did good, yeah?” Chan smiles, caressing your hair, “sounded so pretty for us”.
You offer them a weak, yet satisfied smile, “my pleasure”. 
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elixirfromthestars · 3 months ago
Text
On Days Like This
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Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (established relationship)
Summary: The comforts of sick days with your boyfriend Matt.
Word Count: 1.1k
Warning(s): fluff / descriptions of mild sickness / sick + comfort
requested by anonymous
a/n: hello! i'm jumping between wips and i was able to finish this bingo request 💖 originally it was just going to be the first part, but then I got carried away 🤭✨ as always feedback is appreciated! and my writing challenge is still on going 💗
birthday bingo masterlist ♡ // main masterlist ♡
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When He's Sick
“ Matt, don’t even think about it,” you warn as he reaches for the armrest of the couch. You know what he’s about to do and you refuse to let him do it. You’re not letting him move a muscle while he’s sick. 
“ I got it,” you add, rushing to the front door and answering the knock that rang throughout his apartment seconds earlier. Matt grumbles something under his breath as he sinks back onto the couch—a resigned sigh leaving his lips. 
Your boyfriend gets a little grumpy when he’s sick. He relies on his senses to see and it’s hard to do that when he can’t breathe out of his nose and has a constant ringing in his ears. The delirium of his ongoing fever further muddied his brain. The clouding of his senses was overwhelming to say the least and you were trying your best to help remedy that. 
You open the door and grab the items you instacarted to make him some homemade chicken noodle soup. You make your way back to the kitchen where you take the items out and start preparing the meal.
You peak out into the living room. Your boyfriend resembles a child all snuggled up into the blue cotton blanket you draped over him earlier. The slight hum of the television in the background casting a light glow onto him. 
He won’t admit it now, but he secretly loves being taken care of. Its not a feeling he’s used to, but when it comes to you he welcomes it. 
When you’re done preparing the ingredients, you pour them all into a pot to simmer. You wash your hands thoroughly and then make your way over to your boyfriend. Its time to take his temperature again.
“ Hey, how are you feeling?” You ask, your tone filled with a gentle worry. You lower to your knees to be eye level with him.
“ Like my head’s going to explode,” he groans quietly. You give him a weary smile, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. You’ve done this so many times you can’t tell if his fevers gone down or not. 
“ Open up,” you request as you inch the tip of the thermometer to his lips. He does as told and you take his temperature. 
“ One hundred and two. Looks like that medicine is starting to kick in. You were at one o’three earlier,” you say, slightly optimistic. This does nothing to cheer your boyfriend up as he’s still in his sickly haze.
You kiss your fingers and then press it onto his lips,“ Soup will be ready soon. I promise it’ll make you feel better,” your voice brings him a comfort he direly needs. Coupled that with the indirect kiss and the way you’re brushing away the strands of sweaty hair from his face—he’s in heaven. 
“ Thanks, baby,” he manages to croak out. You brush another strand from his face and he leans into your touch. “ No need to thank me. I’m here for you,” you reply with a soft sincerity. 
Damn the medicine and the soup. All he needs is you. 
After about another forty minutes the soup is done and served in a bowl. You let it cool down a bit before heading over to the couch, setting the bowl down on the coffee table. Matt can faintly pick up the savory aroma in the air and he gently sits up. He intends to reach out to grab the bowl until you swat his hands away lightly. 
“ No. I got it. You focus on getting better. I’ll do the rest,” there’s a slight pout on his lips as you say this. You’re tempted to kiss it away, but you stop yourself. The last thing either of you needed was for you to get sick too.
You blow on the soup a bit before serving him the first spoonful. The warmth spreads throughout his body blanketing him better than anything else did. 
You were right. The soup did make him feel better.
When You're Sick
A content sigh escapes you as Matt massages the lavender scented shampoo into your scalp. His fingers are delicate, but working with purpose as he lathers every strand. Your body was already melting into the bath, but with the way his hands were working—you’d soon melt into him. 
There wasn’t a strand of hair left untouched by him. He gave every bit of it his full attention. Wanting to make sure he was doing things right. He had never done this for anyone before. 
The bath was Matt’s idea and his doing. When you came down with the flu and complained about your achy muscles and congested sinuses—he knew just what to do. 
Well, more like the internet told him what to do and what products to buy.
His every touch was gentle and soothing. The scent of lavender was calming to your senses so he left it in your hair to settle for just a bit while he worked on lathering a rosemary scented body wash into your skin. His fingers work in slow circular motions, applying just the right amount of pressure to pacify the ache. 
“ How’s that?” he asks, fingers gliding over your back as his circular motions continue.
Now you were completely melting into his touch, “ Perfect. That seriously helps so much,” you reply a little breathless, your eyes closing to focus on the feeling. 
Matt grinned, pleased that he was able to help you. He loves taking care of you as much as you take care of him. Being the one you can lean on, on days like this, means everything to him.
When You're Both Sick
“ Come here,” Matt’s quiet voice rings out in his dark bedroom. The slightest sliver of moonlight coming from his window. His arms are outstretched in your direction as you make your way into the covers. 
You sniffle briefly as you snuggle into his side, his arms enveloping you immediately. You clear your throat to hold back a nasty cough that is trying to fight its way out of you. 
Your bodies tangle under the blanket, trying to calm the chills that run through both of you. Matt’s head rests delicately on your head as your face nestles into the crook of his neck. 
The cold medicine starts to take effect as your eyelids get heavier. Matt’s breathing has relaxed signaling to you he’s on the verge of falling asleep too. 
“ Goodnight,” you whisper, tilting your head to plant a soft kiss to his jaw. 
“ Goodnight,” he whispers back, planting a loving kiss to the top of your head, pulling you impossibly closer to him. 
You fall asleep just like that.
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