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vieoeil-riae · 1 month ago

Note

Could u do Steb having a crush/pre-relationship? Headcannons or fic whichever is easiest for you! Your writing is so good omg

hey babycakes 😘 this one's for you 🫵🫵🫵 *shoots and misses*

anyways, I didn't know if you wanted it SFW or NSFW so I just made it SFW in case but if you want me to write something spicy all u have to do is come back and ask so dw

I see you more, more, and more

steb/gn!reader

warnings: SFW, zaunite!reader for the fic section, selectively mute! steb (HOWEVER he does speak once ☝ and it is treated with appropriate gravity), unintentionally gn!reader so if something isn't gn then gimme a shout and I'll reword, mix of hc and fic, fic is 3.6k words

synopsis: Steb, the romantic

read on ao3 | ao3 profile

this guy is like. old school, kinda. like fairly traditional in the sense he's very much into doing things for you and being someone you can depend on, just without any pressure on you to give him what he wants because of it

additionally, while respectful and not touchy when getting to know you, he tends to hover closer to you the more he comes to like you, he's called the silent guardian for a reason

keenly observant, notices if and when you fluster because of him

HOWEVER he does have insecurities that quietly float around the back of his mind when he's not actively fighting them, and because of that, tends to deny to himself the fact he almost definitely caused that heat on your cheeks

the insecurities aren't major per say, but as you get closer you notice how he tends to avoid your eyes when you're tracing the feature of his face

if you subtly tell him you think he's beautiful, he'll have a bit of an internal freak out, but the most you'll see on his face is a small, wobbly smile

quietly leaves you love letters, not as secretive as a secret admirer, but enough that it keeps a bit of doubt in the back of your mind - he likes the slight mind game as well as the suspicious gaze you give him if you ever read one in front of him, it's cute

will leave you flowers when he's deeper into the crush

that also means he sometimes has a small bouquet of them on his desk at work, waiting to be given to you, and his coworkers have teased him for it before

he doesn't have many friends, something he's honestly okay with, but pre-war he had introduced you to maddie whilst "stumbling across you" while working

he pays for things for you, but respects you so he'll let you split the cost of something if you really want, he just wants to help you

you rolled your ankle once and being medically trained, he wanted to take a look. that involved taking off your shoe and holding your ankle in a way that felt more intimate than he thought it would, all you could see was him worrying his lip, but inside he was having... a moment

if you wanted him to quit his job, you could convince him with a LOT of talking but he has a very strong sense of duty so he'd probably become a paramedic or something similar if you were successful/ post!war he'd likely be more critical of his occupation, he was hopeful policing could be a good thing but he becomes disillusioned after fighting alongside zaunites and seeing how poorly sevika was received by the council

he does have the balls to admit when he's wrong, he just has a stubborn streak that you wouldn't notice immediately because of how quiet he is

speaking of quitting being a cop, he's actually quite open-minded and likes listening to you talk - he's gotten very good at it (he likes the sound of your voice, okay? and definitely not in a weird way! deffffinitely not. totally.)

he likes it when he makes a face at something and you laugh

teaches you sign language, touching your hands so much is just a bonus to the already immense reward of you finally being able to understand all the compliments he gives you

you two end up keeping small notepads on you to talk with as well, you don't particularly need them to talk but you often find yourself writing your responses

steb likes your handwriting, he sees you in everything once he's fallen for you, so seeing something made by your own hand feels like seeing a part of you

You met while he was on duty, minding your own business as you busted dishes at the tiny cafe you worked at in the boundary markets, closer to Zaun's side.

Golden hour sank over the city, glinting off of the bronze trimmings and smooth glass of the market's highest buildings — shadow pooling where the high arches and packed structural webbing hid the flagstone from the sun.

It was just another day in the small cafe you found work in, a popular place for anybody worth anything (though the number was low, only a decent handful of well-known zaunites ever crossed the threshold, maybe a shifty looking piltie now and then but it was rare) to take a shopping break.

The outside seating was understandably unpopular, too many eager hands and too much industrial smog for a drink to really be enjoyed. Still, some thick piltie had managed to have a sit-down without getting shaken down on the table you were clearing.

You muttered under your breath, cussing them out for having left the table in such a mess - seriously, how much coffee could one person spill! They hadn't even tried to leave it orderly like most other people did. That meant you were stuck putting a hell of an amount of elbow grease into scrubbing a ring of dried coffee from the wood.

You never looked up, not even when you slapped the rag you were using down, digging one fist into your hip as your other swept over your hair in an attempt to tame it despite the humid nature of Zaun's air.

That meant you never caught the first time Steb ever saw you, missing the way he seemed to freeze in his tracks at seeing you — ears perked, eyes curious.

He would never be able to tell you what made him stop verbally, but that wasn't a problem. In fact, in hindsight you almost appreciated it since it meant many a carefully crafted love letter being slipped towards you with flushed cheeks and fluttering frills.

Steb had written it out once, for an important occasion you don't remember as well as the letter. He spoke of you, how the light caught on your hair, your skin, the way you looked so... human. Frazzled, pissed off, and alone was his first impression of you — a strike of something beyond reason drew him closer.

You noticed him the second time, however, when he broke up a brawl just starting to form outside of the cafe. It didn't go well per say, the people not taking well to an enforcer trying to get in their business, resulting in a swift punch to the jaw before they dispersed — apparently too pissed about Steb's interference to argue straight away.

You peeked out of your shop door, staring at the way he gently rubbed his jaw, paying attention to the way he traced the two slits just above his jawbone. For an enforcer, he was damn pretty, but you still didn't want anything to do with him. You shut the door.

Another letter detailed the first time he saw your eyes properly, you had blushed horribly, hiding your hot cheeks in the paper once you'd finished reading how, in explicit detail, how beautiful they were. Steb had tugged the paper down with a pleased grin, haloed by the mid afternoon sun soaking through the botanical garden's trees, quite happy with your reaction. A bouquet of carnations sat by your thigh, organised and carefully wrapped by hand.

He’d started coming into the shop during his patrols at some point, ignoring the sharp looks he got from most of your usual customers. At first, he had a ginger girl in tow — Maddie, you later learned — who ordered for the both of them, but eventually, after almost a month of ordering the same drink he started to come alone.

You’d get him the same thing every time, getting more and more used to finding his face through the market’s crowds. Familiarity begets fondness, you supposed, as you started to appreciate the way Steb managed to look so angular but so soft at the same time while trying not to feel like too much of a class traitor. Nothing wrong with a bit of window shopping, right?

He never talked, but as a service worker that was something you’d come to appreciate; no awkward small talk or verbal abuse, just a sweet smile and a cursory chin raise to the item board and you already knew what he wanted. Though while making his order, black coffee, you’d find yourself making small talk; eyes shifting back and forth from your work and his face as you looked for his expressions and head tilts. You were a service worker, you were meant to be friendly, nothing wrong there.

His handwriting, neat and sometimes swoopy, layed out how much he enjoyed watching you watch him. The way you managed to carry the conversation without his verbal feedback, the way you cared enough to look for what he was saying with his face — and eventually his hands — where most other people would opt to brush him off. It made his heart beat out of time when you’d laugh at your own jokes; all the furious blushes fought down when your fingers slid over his to give him his drink.

Steb had noticed you outside of work too, running errands. It was his duty, he rationalised, to help people and that totally justified swooping in to help you with your shopping. It was the friendly neighbourhood cop situation of all time, why wouldn’t he? It didn’t mean anything, drinking in your face as it went from confused to surprised when you realised you’d managed to catch him somewhere other than the markets, listening contently as you described your mundane day — surely.

But that was a lie, one he could justify getting closer to you with, and as much as he didn’t like lying, it was worth it. You were brighter than him, naturally, based on the mere fact you talked and he didn’t; it was no surprise that your alien nature drew him in. You were warm too, you gave a damn about things other than yourself.

A Zaunite, you talked, you lived in a completely different world to him; there was no reason for him to like you so much, in fact, by all accounts you should hate each other. That didn’t stop him from flustering immensely when the small talk over the counter started to include small flirts thrown his way.

Compliments, off-handed and usually one word, ‘hey, handsome’ thrown his way when he walked in the door. It caught him off guard the first time. Force policies on public relations clashing with this tumbling wave of lovesickness and pride that spiked his veins leaving his mouth open as he stared at you, faint blush dusting his cheeks.

His frills fluttered out of time, you noticed, enjoying the show as Steb came back to his senses. You’d given him a teasing apology, melodramatic through a smile, telling him that you were sorry about increasing his risk of arrhythmia more than you already were with the coffee.

More bashfully than he would’ve liked, he’d slid an envelope across the counter towards you with the payment. You gave him a weird look when you turned to it, flicking your eyes up at him in question before tucking it in your pocket and giving him his drink.

You turned to clean, and Steb slipped extra cash in the tip jar; more than necessary, but he’d seen you looking a little thin recently.

It was only a minute or two later when you hastily slid into the seat across from him with the envelope in your hands, open this time. Steb watched your mouth open and close as you tried to ask him what the hell he was thinking, amused by the fact he’d finally managed to render you speechless too.

“You… want to take me out on a… date?” You had asked with a deeply confused tone. He liked the way your eyebrows furrowed, a tinge of embarrassment laced in the mix. The way you seemed disbelieving would’ve been cuter if he wasn’t getting antsy himself.

He was in the minority in terms of appearance; fishy, a little amphibian, a lot greener than his peers. The city of progress was a real mix of people, but that didn’t stop a cloying feeling of insecurity following him from childhood to right now. He was odd, he knew that, but he chewed the inside of his cheek as he hoped you wouldn’t outright turn him down.

Steb looked the smallest you’d ever seen him, shoulders hunched and expression troubled in a far cry from his usual neutral expression. Have you said something wrong?

“It’s not a no!” You shot, straightening up from your casual, slumped position to lean towards him, elbows on the table. You rolled the words around in your head and he watched as your expression shifted. “It’s just… Why me?”

A zaunite, no one special, just a barista, what would a piltie want with you of all people?

Steb made the sign for a pen; you tossed him one quickly alongside your notepad. You watched as he scribbled out a page, and then another, and then another. At this point you were more shocked that he had so much to say.

The pad was promptly slid back to you, and Steb avoided looking at your eyes, forcing you to look at the writing.

It was one hell of an explanation, you could’ve mistaken him for a poet despite the rushed look of the whole thing. Heat prickled at your skin as you kept reading all the internal reasoning you hadn’t been privy to until now. He described almost everything about you in such a rosy way it left your jaw dropped, stumped on just how observant (and into you) one guy could be.

Still looking at the notepad, you began to nod, “yeah… yeah! Yeah! I’ll- yeah.”

You giggled, a hand running over your hair as you looked up at Steb again — who’d been quietly observing your expressions from the moment you started reading. There was a whole world to be found in your face, in his opinion, it felt like watching hundreds of great masterpieces of art work move in front of him in real time when he looked at you.

Senselessly, in a way he could never phrase right, you were beautiful the same way space was. A vast space full of bright lights that dazzled in a way that was nearly spiritual. Maybe it was a bit much for the crush he had on a barista from the boundary markets that he’d only known for a couple of months, but he was a romantic at heart.

“I’d like that.” You smiled, unable to look him in the eye until you noticed the way he perked up. That was one of the joys of knowing Steb, learning to read him and finally seeing what he wanted to say. Miniscule gestures suddenly carried the weight of the world.

His frills fluttered with a sense of pride and he stood from his seat. You watched him, almost perplexed but ultimately enamoured by the new lens you were seeing him in, as he hesitantly reached for your hand. You gave it to him, curiosity brimming.

Tenderly, gently, barely even a brush, Steb kissed your knuckles. Stooped over just for you, treating you like you were precious; it just about set your face on fire. He tipped his hat to you just before you left, a smuggish look that barely differed from his usual expression passed across his face. Raised eyebrows and a fond, teasing smile made you flush even worse. All that, and he quietly exited the shop, leaving you a mess in his wake.

You weren’t told until a long time after, but the second he was out of sight from the cafe, Steb was fighting a speed-walk all the way to Maddie’s station to tell her about you. The story was shared quietly, written out in a notepad while you were curled up in each other on the sofa. The mood was somber, but his heart was still out for you to see, that meant more than the way his ears were pinned to his skull and the way you could feel him sink just a little deeper into you.

Next Friday had rolled around and you were dressed up more than you ever had been, standing on your doorstep, peering down the street in search of the hot cop you absolutely had a crush on. God, some zaunite you were.

It was clumsy, you spent the night at a fancy (by your standards) restaurant flirting the best you could — feeling out of place unless you were looking at Steb. But by the time you left, you’d started to relax.

You strolled by a fountain at some point. You didn’t remember, but Steb did. A letter hidden under your pillow after a fight that told you about what it was like to see you start to bare your soul to him. He said he could’ve mistaken you for glowing, street lights painting you in gentle, warm hues as your eyes sparkled at him, telling him something about water pipes at home. The words didn’t matter so much as the joy in your voice.

It had made him feel like he was living life how he was meant to. Just you, Steb, and a night that felt nearly infinite and it made him wonder if love always felt so freeing. Billions before you had shared moments similar, and all of a sudden it felt like he knew every inch of adoration ever felt towards anything. He didn’t tell you then, it would’ve been too much, but he told you in the letter.

You sought him out the next day, not entirely forgiving him yet, but assuring you’d still be there when he got home.

Outings with Steb became more frequent, but importantly he had invited you over to his home more than once. You’d been so curious but so timid, not wanting to intrude too much, endearing in the contrast to your Zaun-built, confident demeanor.

The only problem was that seeing you eventually get comfortable in his home, around the places he went, was doing something to his heart; much worse than before, it squeezed at the thought of you in his life properly. Imagined mornings of waking up to see you in bed next to him almost did your arrhythmia comment justice.

More strikingly though, was the accompanying acknowledgement that in those fantasies, you tended to be… bereft of clothing. Padding around his room with every inch of your skin there for him to see, not provocatively, just comfortably. It made him needier than he’d ever want to admit (then, at least) and he didn’t invite you over again until you grew comfortable enough to be touchy with him.

Light brushes; hand holding; hugs that lasted too long to be just friendly, to him they meant he was allowed to imagine more with you. He invited you over for dinner the day after you slid your hands under the back of his uniform’s half-jacket while you hugged him.

There were flowers, dances, cute dates he absolutely insisted he paid for — everything gentlemanly he could do, he did. Treating you right was a reward in itself to Steb, loving you wasn’t housekeeping, it was a way of existing; a comfort; a lot of things he didn’t know how to say despite the fact you teased him for having the soul of a poet. It felt right and you smiled genuinely, that’s all that mattered.

The breaking point was a little date he took you on, having swept into the cafe and slipped a note asking (almost pleading) for you to take a trip inland to a large lake with sandy beaches. When you inevitably said yes, he grinned in a way you’d have never guessed was possible about a year ago.

His face was typically stoic, only small shifts and twitches you had to know him to pick up on really gave him away. Over months you’d not only learned them, but had been let in on his feelings too — a facet of himself gifted almost exclusively to you.

It was his own doom he was walking into, he knew that and felt rather guilty about it, but the image of you dripping wet — standing half-submerged in a still lake, maybe in the golden hour he first noticed you in, was enough temptation for him to bend to his own wants.

The actual journey was revealing enough, you hiked and stumbled, laughing the whole way; comfortable with him. It made him realise what he felt towards you wasn’t just a fragile thing to be stoked tenderly like a fire he was worried about going out. Watching you gasp for breath in between laughs as you beat him to a trail marker but fell over once you reached it, he realised what he felt for you was fully formed.

He did get his moment, watching the lake water pool over your skin, ultimately lost in you and the feeling he’d swim with you forever if you just asked. Your background didn’t matter, he was concerned only with the endless possibilities of a future with you, if you wanted that too.

Steb joined you, a feeling of relief flooding him like the water did, sending you a small, but intimate, smile before sinking beneath the surface.

The water wet his gills properly for the first time in a while, something that always felt satisfying, and he aimed for you. Your feet still touched the ground, semi-hesitant about going much deeper. He surfaced behind you, mindfully pulling you into a hug. You leaned back, enjoying the closeness for a moment before you turned around.

“Thank you for bringing me. It’s beautiful out here.” You spoke softly, tracing the paths of water droplets that slid down his skin in reverse. Your fingers skimmed the very edges of Steb’s gill slits and he shuddered all the way to the frills on his face.

Carefully, not looking away from your face for a second, he traced your lips with a delicate finger. You stayed quiet, questioning, but transfixed on the way he looked at you so reverently; there was a look in his eyes, warm in ways you’d never seen turned to you in full before.

His eyes darted down to your lips, then back to your eyes, a request swirling in his irises. He wanted you, and it was only a matter of if you wanted him back. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a hurt little feeling cooed worries at him. Unable to quash them, he settled into the uneasy feeling — letting the moment continue.

You leaned towards Steb, your nose skimming over his. The feeling quieted, like a held breath.

You met his lips with the same human-ness and soft edge he’d seen in you from the beginning, fireworks weren’t what he felt; he felt like melting wax, fluid and free with relief — wanting to sink into the shape you wanted him to be while also feeling more in control in some way he’d never felt so much before.

You gasped at his wet hand, cold from the air meeting the remaining water on it, that cradled your waist. The gentle tip of his tongue brushed your bottom lip, asking for permission you gave him almost instantly with a tilt of your head.

It was an electrifying taste, a fraction of the warmth you held that felt like it carried the weight of the world in the way you let him — even wanted him — to explore your mouth. Your hands slipped over his shoulders, trailing over his skin as if trying to memorise them in excruciating detail.

Your hand found his jaw again, swiping gently over the bone before running along his gill slits again. He made a choked sound you swallowed before pulling away, resting your forehead against his. He nuzzled his face into the side of your head soon after, you heard him breathe, catching the soft sound of every inhale. Steb inhaled sharply.

“May I be yours?” He whispered in your ear, his voice raspy with disuse. It was by no means a small act, talking was made difficult by his biology already; a lifelong fight that had at some point turned into an emotional discomfort with talking as well. For his job, his sense of duty could shove the deep-rooted pang of fear down enough, but in any other case his voice disappeared like steam in the wind.

But it was important here, with you, who had taken up residence in his heart — never once making or even asking him to talk, accepting him as he was. The fizzing of his nerves in this moment was down to anticipation, not fear; and with all his need for you, he could bare a whisper.

“Please.” You whispered back before the gravity of it all left you scrambling, “And let me be yours, too.”

Steb captured your lips in a wordless kiss, more passionate than gentle, his fingers digging into your waist like was afraid you’d disappear if he let go even for a moment. The initial shot of relief gave way to a feeling of satisfaction that purred in his chest, the press of your warm body against his made him feel full.

His hand twisted in your hair, dragging you into his lap as he sank into the water’s buoyancy.

A/N: SURPRISEEEEEE ITS NOT SMUT FOR ONCE!! did I getcha????? I'll be honest writing something that wasn't porn for him was harder than expected bc I've got NO practice for him

also perhaps I have outed myself as a league lore knower but that's fine I've been into worse I used to like hetalia

anyways hope u like this anon 💕💕

#steb arcane #arcane #steb x reader #arcane x reader #steb arcane x reader #steb #gn!reader

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bewareofthenewphannie · 3 days ago

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sigh....please don't kill me for this

AO3 Phandom Stats - Top or Bottom?

As many of you may have noticed there has been a shift in the depiction of Dan and Phil in fanfiction over the past few months from previously predominantly Dan being written as the bottom to now largely Phil bottoming. This post aims to put that trend into numbers and visualise it in a few overly convoluted diagrams below the cut.

Does any of this matter? Absolutely not.

Is it interesting? Oh boy, it sure is!

Disclaimer: This is an analysis of the fanfiction writing and tagging trends within the Phandom. It's at most tangentially related to the Real People Dan and Phil and is not meant to spark any type of discourse. I am doing this as an avid fanfic reader and with the utmost respect and appreciation for the authors of these fics, so I don't want to see any negativity directed towards them. Above all this is meant to be fun and interesting.

And as always - don't like it, don't read it <3

Note on accessibility: linked here is a doc with all the numbers shown in the screenshots of this post. Inspired by emma's stats I will be putting the cell range in the ID - if there's a better way to do this, please lmk!!

Methodology

To get the numbers shown here I filtered the works in the Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF) AO3 tag by "date updated" from the Jan 1st to Dec 31st of each year and by the following tags:

Bottom Dan Howell

Bottom Phil Lester

Top Dan Howell

Top Phil Lester

Short excurse on AO3 tags for those unaware:

The tags I chose are canonical tags, which means other tags that mean the same thing but are for example spelled differently are linked to this tag by tag wranglers and appear when you search for the canonical tag (see example below).

Additionally, the "bottom x" tags are metatags for the power bottom tags, which means fics tagged with "power bottom x" also appear when you filter works for these tags.

It's important to note that not every fic where one of them tops or bottoms is tagged as such. That means these stats very specifically look at the author's choice to tag fics with these tags and not the overall amount of fics where one of them tops or bottoms. However, I would argue it's fair to assume that it's at least somewhat reflective of the general writing trends within the Phandom.

For simplicity's sake I will refer to these tags as e.g. "Bottom!Phil" (b!p) going forward.

Stats 2013 - 2024

Here you can see how many fics were tagged with each tag in the respective year and the amount of bottom!dan and bottom!phil fics relative to the total amount of fanfic written in the same time span.

As expected, up until 2023 the split was about 2 b!d to 1 b!p fic (precise numbers: 71% to 29%; see pie chart above).

In 2018 we can see a peak in both in the number of phanfics written and the relative amount of fics tagged as bottom!dan.

Starting in 2023 (more on that below!) this flips and in 2024 the ratio of b!d to b!p fics was 1 to 4 (precise numbers: 81% to 19%; see pie chart above).

Furthermore, making up 4,62% of the total amount of phanfics written in 2024, the bottom!phil tag is relatively speaking twice as popular now as the bottom!dan tag ever was.

Sidenote: You can see that generally the amount of fics tagged with b!d and t!p, as well as b!p and t!d correspond to each other for obvious reasons (they're usually fucking each other). This year however there's 16 fics more tagged with bottom!phil than top!dan, which shows that there's been a very specific interest in writing and tagging bottom!phil in the last year.

Here you can see the total amount of phanfics written by year because I already collected the data, so I might as well put it here:

Stats 11/2023 - 12/2024

Now I want to take a closer look at the past few months post hiatus.

You can see that there's been a steady increase in the total amount of fics written per month!

That's incredibly cool!! (Love to all the wonderful writers out there <33)

Before we get into the actual stats, it's important to note that we're working with very low numbers here, so don't be fooled by overinterpreting percentages in the first few months depicted and look at the actual numbers! In the diagram below I excluded September and October 2023 because there simply wasn't enough data to produce useable results.

Contrary to what I expected, the increase in fics tagged with bottom!phil does not coincide with gamingmas 2023 (pour bot hem and top bunk kind of guy), nor phil's birthday live stream (topped by kakuna) but only really starts in June 24 and spikes in August for reasons I'm not fully sure about.

If I had to pin it on one thing it'd be the precious baby angel picture, which was posted in mid August.

Much more likely is though that this was simply a dynamic that built over months and had a wide array of reasons mentioned above and could very well be a self-reinforcing dynamic of more and more people looking for that tag and also writing for it.

If anyone has more insight on this, please share your thoughts :]

On that note, I'm finally done yapping, I hope this was at least mildly interesting!

#phan #dan and phil #phil if you're snooping that's on you #dnp described #misty says things #spreadsheets #(kinda i need a tag for this)

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haxkattpress · 3 months ago

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Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses

"Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order."

This has to be one of the most creative and meticulously researched fics I have ever had the pleasure of reading. If you haven't read it yet, don't walk— run! Citrusses is an absolute genius, and kindly gave me permission to bind her masterpiece.

The cover of this bind is made out four different shades of Allure bookcloth cut by my Cameo 4, and the centerpiece is printed and hand foiled. The banners were machine foiled in gold and black with hand foiled rose gold shading. The endbands were hand sewn with Gutermann silk thread.

You can find more pictures and information about my process under the cut.

The amount of inspiration this fic gave me was overwhelming, and Citrusses' writing fully immersed me in the world of competitive rowing. While designing this bind, I was struck by the sheer wealth of Oxford rowing memorabilia available to me. I settled on this 1929 illustration from an official publication on the Oxford and Cambridge Centenary Boat Race for the cover.

"How hard could it possibly be?" I thought, foolishly. The answer was HARD, but I'll get into that later.

Due to the wealth of design options, I believe that this may be the best typeset I have created to date. Thanks to the help of my friend @tsurashi-bindery, I was able to learn the basics of InDesign (kicking and screaming all the way). There will be spoilers in the text of these photos, so try not to read them if you haven't finished the fic!

For the title page, I modified To See the Crews in Training by Charles Pears (1930). I believe that this was part of a series of advertisements for the race in the London Underground.

For the chapter headers, I redrew the crest from an Oxford Oars, Flags, and Arms postcard, presumably pre 1914. I also had some fun creating a mock email using La_Temperanza's How to Mimic Email Windows on Ao3. Cormac's email makes me laugh every time I read it, and Citrusses provided an appropriately pompous subject.

I also had lots of fun editing the oars from the official OUBC logo to serve as dividers and decorations for the page numbers.

Additionally, I got to edit a full newspaper page for the fic! I was very excited find an opportunity to slip Leyendecker's The Finish (1908) in.

The fic ended beautifully, so I wanted to include one last element at the end to capture the atmosphere. I settled on L'aviron (1932) by Milivoj Uzelac. It makes me feel as though Harry and Draco will continue rowing together long after I've closed the book.

I of course had lots of fun sewing the headbands, and got to do it with not one but TWO copies!

Things got tricky when I had to recreate the cover. I had a poor understanding of how vector images worked, and ended up having to redraw it three times. Once I finally cracked and taught myself how to use Illustrator, the program crashed...and I had to redraw it a fourth time!

I set the vector to cut on my Cameo 4, and I assembled the pieces together like a puzzle on my Silhouette mat. I used Allure's indigo, skylight, white, and black bookcloth in the process. I will be making a tutorial video on this method, so I will keep it brief here.

I also cut a piece of bookcloth to 8.5"x 11" and fed it through my inktank printer to print the center design. I then cut it out using the print and cut feature on my Cameo 4. Both of these methods were a first for me, and they were very scary!!

To be perfectly frank, the foiling was a nightmare and I don't want to get into it. I machine foiled the gold, and then foiled black lettering on top of it. I foiled the rose gold shading by hand, and then foiled a thin black outline along the edge of the banners to make them stand out more.

I hand foiled the spines (because I'm scared of measuring), painted the exposed board (to hide any gaps in the inlays), and used transfer tape to lift my design from the Silhouette mat and onto the cover.

One more fun detail— my copy and the author's copy are sisters! The dark blue and the light blue are inverted on the author's copy, making it distinguishable from mine. This is the first time I have made an author's copy for a fic, and I was admittedly incredibly nervous. I always worry about what authors will think of my work, but Citrusses gave me an incredible amount of encouragement and support throughout the process! Thank you for trusting me with your precious fic!

This story is a work of fanfiction and can be read on Ao3 for free. My bind and typeset are for personal use only and not for sale or profit. Keep fandom free!

#book binding #fic binding #fanbinding #fanfic binding #drarry #our objective remains unchanged #harry x draco #my binds

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buntanteen · 6 months ago

Text

svt fic recs list <3 - yjh, hjs & lee chan - sfw ver.

reader insert fics!! though, lots of these are ot13 writings, i am specifically recommending the jeonghan, joshua and dino sections!

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

note: i haven't made a fic rec list since i was a teen lol. i'm gonna try do 13 recs per list (cuz that's how many members are in seventeen :3) i've added my mini thoughts and i'm going to add lil song recs too!! these lists are partially for me to look back on too :d

✩ yoon jeonghan ✩

❥ jeonghan boyfriends habits - @odxrilove

*sobs in cute lil domestic actions* shut up i LOVE having my hair played with and attention on me and physical touch that isn't necessarily affection and yapping and being playful ahhh

❥ bf!jeonghan headcanons - @etherealyoungk

this is exactllyyyy the kind of s/o i want raaaaaaaaaaaa. teasing, playful, sweetheart, pouty, mature and a listener. this made me smile soooo much

✩ hong joshua ✩

❥ joshua boyfriend habits - @odxrilove

*cries in physical touch and acts of service* mORE hair touching??? are you trying to speak to my heart😭 shua really said "my handbag is your waist" (just one day by bts reference) with that last one*

❥ bf!joshua scenarios - @etherealyoungk

*punches wall in chef shua making reader breakfast* he's just such a sweetieeee. the intentional quality time is something i can sooo see him doing

✩ lee chan/dino ✩

❥ dino boyfriend habits - @odxrilove

*cries in physical touch and acts of service pt.2* as a shy person, i love when my friends order for me (or when there's a qr code lol) i think i'd pass out if someone pulled me by the loop of my jeans kjfdbdfb

✩ ot13 works (yjh, hjs & lee chan sections) ✩

❥ seventeen as boyfriends - @catboyieejeno

super cute, lengthy and detailed for all members! i was swooning and giggling over each of them hehe~

jeonghan's bits of physical affection coupled with noise effects highkey make my heart soar idk whyyy

shua being a gentleman but bro i'll be one right back at you >:)) skincare nights??? as a skincare girly i would loveeee that ahhh

hAND HOLDING WITH CHANNIE GRRR. i love when people listen to me yap (my friend listened to me yap about svt today haha). i agree with that last bit about chan giving confidence and reassurance. he already does that for me as a fan, so it would be amplified by 990211x~

❥ seventeen when you reject their kiss (as a prank) - @emocheol

hannie was such a little shit. of cOURSE he'd be dramatic and do a 180 on the situation so reader is being pranked

shua's reaction was so hot. it was a mature approach to the situation and my brain started barking kjgbkfa

chan's killed me. this poor kid is trying his best jgfdkb

additionally, hoshi and jihoon's made me tear up a bit :,) they're so precious to me

❥ sharing the bed with seventeen - @emocheol

jeonghan. let. me. spoon. you >:((( (i just wanna cuddle him)

cackled at the absurdity of joshua's with full acknowledgement that him reading to me would make me fall asleep lmao

oh no...dino...we'd both kick each other off the bed

❥ matchy-matchy with seventeen - @lovingseventeen

wanna play with jeonghan's hair so baddd. i used to do my and my friend's hair so much as a kid

i don't really wear rings, BUT FOR SHUA I CAN TRY!! (kinda want a ring like svt does in honour of them?! idk tho)

chan and i are gonna pull up in comfy matching set fits yeahhhh

❥ you ask to leave lipstick stains on their face - @gi4hao

getting lipstick stains back from hannie?? fuck yeahhh

flirty shua *blushes and kicks blanket*

damn, dino sounds like he's in heavennnn (he's soooo down bad lmao)

❥ things they left with you before leaving for tour - @seuonji

jeonghan being thorough and specific and intentional with his shirt choices

joshie writing letters arghhhhh. as someone who loves to write letters to friends (via text or on physical cards) this really speaks to my heart

channie's is sooo fucking thoughtful and i freaking love snacks and quality time at a distance is difficult so i love this ahhh

❥ svt when they’re clingy - @gyuslcve

jeonghan's AHHH. how am i supposed to say no to himmm🥺🥺

shua...hE'S SO SOFTTTT HNGHHGHG. back hugs are so niceee ahhh

spooning? forehead kisses? hand holding?!!?! with dino?!?! yess pls :,)

❥ hyper/calm dynamics - @cxffecoupx

calm reader, calm jeonghan. low energy us just chillingg

all of the above reader & shua. fuck yeah. i tend to adapt my energy to the situation, so chaos can unleash whenever heh :3

hyper reader, calm chan. i will look at him with equal parts embarrassment and endearment haha

additionally: i would hype the shit out of hoshi. no one would never handle us grrrrr ఇ◝‿◜ఇ

mini message from me: thank you for reading!! stay cool or warm wherever you're at!! take care of yourselves and treat yourselves to something yummyyyy~ ς(.>‿<)

ames' song recs: serendipity by bts (jimin), heaven by rm, same dream same mind same night by seventeen (vocal unit), yes or no by jungkook & our summer by txt

taglist: no one yet, but if y'all would like to be on it, pls comment :))

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sailoryooons · 1 month ago

Text

Obsidian | Preface | Red (myg)

☾ Summary: You've never been able to forget a face. Neither has Min Yoongi. And you both remember the face of the man who ruined your lives.

☾ Word Count: 1,046

☾ Genre: Urban fantasy, criminal/syndicate, strangers to lovers, angst, eventual smut

☾ Rating: Dead Dove. Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence and death, graphic depictions of blood and dismemberment, depiction of stab wounds and being stabbed, feeling of death/on the cusp of death, reference to Yoongi negatively being referred to as a momma's boy, one (1) poisoned and dead fish, death of parents.

☾ A/N: Hi, I am so nervous to be writing this series again and re-doing what I feel like I got wrong the first time. I hope you like the new and what I think is improved version. This preface is much of the same as it's original predecessor, but with a little more consistency in the voice I will use for the rest of the story telling and a little heavier on the experience Yoongi is having. Additionally, the magic system in his has been tweaked from the original, but you will see that in later chapters and as always, I will include the Jewel Caste at the bottom of each chapter.

☾ A/N 2: If you were on the tag list for the original fic and you would like to be removed, please don't hesitate to let me know. I will be going off the same tag list request form I have used the past year, which might include users no longer interested in this story. Please don't worry about messaging me if you want to be removed or alternatively select the removal option on the tag list request form linked below the disclaimer.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Tag List Requests ☾ Series Masterlist ☾ Next Chapter

Min Yoongi dies the same day as his favorite koi fish.

When he opens the door to his home, the world is awash in red. Red on the tile, red on the carpet. Red on half of his mother’s face - the other half can’t be red because it’s missing. Her jewels are missing too, none of the normal sapphires that glitter on her fingers and ears in their rightful place.

Red weeps from the ceiling, red spills under the table. Red soaks through Yoongi’s socks as he stands in the kitchen. He’d left his shoes by the doorway like his mother always asked him, and now they’re red red red.

At the center of all of that red is his father, head missing. No - maybe not missing. Yoongi’s eyes keep scanning the tableau of crimson until he sees the head of Min Yujun a little ways from his body. Not missing, but not in the right place. Lights out. No one home.

Yoongi’s eyes go to his father's hand - he has to look on the other side of the room from his father’s head to do it - looking for the jewels that should be on his fingers. Yujun always has his onyx rings on, perfect gems set into gold bands. Onyx rings, onyx necklaces, onyx bracelets.

There’s no onyx here. Just more red, dripping from the blunt edge of fingertips recently cut too short. Yoongi diverts his eyes. Seeing the ringless hands of his father is worse than looking at the severed head, the perversity of it turning his stomach.

Yoongi never hears the man behind him. Doesn’t see it coming until he’s slammed from behind, a wall of radiant energy knocking him forward toward his father’s body - not the head. Yoongi screams as he hits the floor - can’t help it. He rears back, pushing away from the jeweless body, but his hands slip in all that red.

His stomach roils but there’s little time to think as he rolls to the side. He summons the power in the onyx rings on his fingers, feels the vibration as they recognize his call, ready to fight back.

He stops entirely when he sees the face hovering above him, immediately dropping the summoning of his radiant energy. He’s so shocked to see Kim Juwon leaning over him that at first, he doesn’t feel the knife carving out his stomach.

Yoongi opens his mouth to ask for help finding his dad’s rings, but he’s interrupted by the soft way Juwon says, “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi thinks Juwon means about his parents, maybe. But then white hot pain blooms in his stomach and Yoongi screams, looking down to see the knife pulling down, opening him up. Red red red red. More red. So much red that Yoongi didn’t know he had that much red inside of him.

Juwon pulls the onyx rings from Yoongi’s fingers. Yoongi tries to pull his hands away from the elder, crying as he tries to keep the red inside. It’s spilling out of him faster than he can keep up with, his panic mounting as Juwon pulls the onyx stones from Yoongi’s ears. Juwon does it gently, as though he’s afraid to hurt Yoongi. Like he doesn’t want to spill more red.

Yoongi thinks he cries out for his mom. At least he forms the words, and tries to beg for her help. His dad doesn’t have a head to yell at him to stop being a momma's boy, so Yoongi screams for her. Wants her to wake up and crawl over to him and hold him together. To stop the red.

He’s never been afraid of dying until right now.

He doesn’t remember Juwon leaving him there, bleeding out and toeing the veil, ready to join his parents on the other side. Yoongi thinks he sees them, thinks he hears them calling to him. But there’s a stronger call, a vibration that pulls at him. That begins to itch. A frequency he can’t let go of.

Yoongi feels it more than he sees it and he starts slipping across the floor to where a single ring has rolled under the fridge. Juwon wouldn’t have noticed - couldn’t have noticed. Juwon radiates at onyx, never obsidian.

No one but Min Yujun radiates at obsidian. Or used to.

But now the obsidian calls to Yoongi and he slides toward it, hand pressed to his stomach, trying to stop the red. His hands are wet and sticky and he gags, feeling something slippery when he presses too hard on the wound.

The obsidian ring pulses, an invisible force under the fridge. Yoongi slides his hand under, gritting his teeth at the tight fit as he reach reach reaches. Just a little to the left. Almost. Almost. His fingers make contact with the ring and energy explodes through him.

Yoongi lets out a guttural sound, somewhere between a yell and a gurgle as he lies on the floor, thinking it might be too late. But as the power surges through him, vibrating at a higher frequency than Yoongi has ever known, he realizes his father has left him a single parting gift.

There on the kitchen floor, Yoongi radiates at obsidian for the first time. Feels his body stitch itself back together, itchy and hot and bothersome. When he’s done, he lays on the floor, sobbing up at the ceiling and trembling, sick and corroded by the powerful gem.

Hours or minutes pass, he isn’t sure. But when he gets up and sees his home painted red, he decides that Min Yoongi must die here too.

Sliding the ring on his finger, he stands. He is dripping in more red than he’s ever known, but there is black on his finger, the darkest jewel on the caste and the most dangerous power to wield.

Stepping out of the red-filled home and into the night, he takes a deep breath. Sees his favorite fish turned over in the koi pond, bloated with poison. That fish had been given to him by his mother as a birthday gift, a symbol of perseverance and strength.

So he takes the name of his favorite fish and walks into the world born anew, leaving the ghost of Min Yoongi behind as Agust takes his place.

THE JEWEL CASTE

*IN ORDER FROM TOP TO BOTTOM THEN LEFT TO RIGHT OF POWER.

Lights

Opal → Selenite → Diamond Rose Quartz → Morganite → Kunzite

Mids

Jade → Peridot → Flourite Jasper → Spinel → Ruby

Darks

Turquoise → Azurite → Sapphire Tourmaline → Jet → Onyx

Corrosives

Emerald → Garnet → Midnight → Obsidian

TAG LIST:

@astroodledream @myynameisbuckyy @idkjustlovingbts @hobibbb

@codeinebelle @rinkud

#yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #suga bts #yoongi series #suga smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x y/n #mafia yoongi

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ceilidho · 6 months ago

Note

This is in no way of hating but i want to know why do you enjoy writing noncon/rape? When I first downloaded tumblr which was couple of months ago i was surprised by the amount of noncon fics here. I eventually came to enjoy them which makes me question myself. Whenever i read a noncon fic and enjoy it i feel like im betraying women who actually went through those traumatic events. Plus I actually don't really like dark romance books? I love cod dead dove and that is mainly because i really love the characters and the authors are so talented. I rambled so much and i hope you don't get this in the wrong way i don't mean to hate AT ALL i love the stuff you write. Maybe i shouldn't think too much and let myself enjoy what im reading lol

first of all, no worries! i wasn't sure about your tone/intentions at first, but by the end i was totally fine with the question.

i actually don't mind talking about this stuff - i just sometimes avoid it on main because i prefer chatting about it privately.

second, i'm no psychologist or sociologist, so i probably won't be able to give you the most satisfactory answer, but i think there are a lot of different reasons. i can only name a few. one thing i should mention right off the bat is that rape fantasies are very normal (and this is true whether you're a survivor of SA or not) and writing/reading fiction can be a safe way to process those thoughts/feelings.

one of prevailing reasons is, of course, that many survivors of SA use noncon/dubcon literature/art as a way of processing their experiences and taking ownership of their trauma.

and look, people are going to go back and forth on this point (i've seen it all before - many people refuse to believe that engaging with noncon lit/art is helpful, and in fairness, it's NOT helpful for everyone because every person is different), but at the end of the day, if a survivor tells you "writing/reading this was helpful in my recovery" then that's that!

additionally, for many women and non-binary folk (i can only speak as a cis woman, but i'm sure this is a shared lived experience across many different people), we're also taught from a very young age to suppress our sexual desires / that being open about our sexuality is morally reprehensible and shameful. and a lot of people carry that shame for years, impacting them well into adulthood. so dubcon/noncon fantasies can be a way of being able to enjoy sexual scenarios where you don't have to be the initiator, thus taking away some of the emotional weight and shame.

plus, at the end of the day (and im sure many people will disagree with this take, it's something that i'm still figuring out myself), there is a kind of weird underlying consent implicit in dark fics. like, you might be reading a fic or novel that's ostensibly noncon, but you're also actively seeking out that literature (hopefully it's not just sprung on you - i do very much agree with tagging to the fullest extent and my lukewarm take is that I think all books, even traditionally published ones, should come with content/trigger warnings too).

there are a medley of reasons why someone might write or read dark fiction/dark romance. again, i'm just one person and i can only speak from my own experience!

i think at the end of the day, the important thing to realize is that fiction is fake, and as long as the writer appropriately tags their work and ensures that the audience is aware of what they're getting into when they start reading, they're not coercing the reader into something they aren't prepared for.

and it's totally fine if you have limits (like, you can read and enjoy dubcon, but not noncon) or can't engage with the material at all, but it's also unfair to say that it reflects someone's real life values - the same way that we don't say that the people who enjoy crime fiction must love murder.

and the last thing i want to say because this got a bit out of hand lol, is that, yes, for some people dark fiction is genuinely harmful, whether or not they're a survivor. it's not for everyone and that's completely fine and i'm aware of that, which is why i agree that you should tag as much as possible (even if you feel like you're overdoing it sometimes), but someone else's discomfort doesn't give them the right to tell you how to process your own emotions/experiences/desires/etc.

as long as no one's getting hurt, there's no issue as far as i'm concerned. and sorry but, no one's getting hurt by reading a fic or a novel unless the author didn't give proper content warnings - if you "forgot" to read the tags or read anyway DESPITE being warned, im sorry but that's life.

#this is sooo rambly but doing my best to give my perspective

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si1verghosts · 6 months ago

Note

Hi!

3. A kiss on the forehead😌

helloooo dear anon!! i am sorry this took so long i could not for the life of me figure out to write but then ! i wrote this on the 4th and i realized it could work... maybe... sorta. this may not be what you were expecting/wanting but there's forehead kisses in there.... somewhere 🫡 also, if u are not american i apologize for giving you a july 4th fic 😭 but the holiday is relatively inconsequential here like theres no patriotism it's just a backdrop if u know what i mean.... anyway, i hope u enjoy <33

you taste like the 4th of july

di leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.5k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking | tw: thoughts about death and dying

tags: established relationship; fluff (i guess??); slight changes to canon to suit author's headcanons

read on ao3

a/n: for the past few months i've been working on this very insane multi-chap post di leon fic 😵‍💫 this was written with that in mind But does not have a place in that story... probably.... idk!!! either way, i think it can be read as a standalone just fine

additionally, there is a scene in here where leon picks the reader up. i would just like to say like... he gets thrown into concrete walls on a biweekly basis and gets up and walks it off without issue so i think he can lift anyone no matter their size or shape!!

not beta read or proofread - sorry if any of it is gibberish i've had a wicked migraine the past few days... will maybe attempt to proofread once i can see correctly again 🚬🧍‍♀️regardless, all mistakes are my own

i do not own leon or any other resi character mentioned, etc etc, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chatbot and/or writing generator.

-----

"It was a good day, wasn't it?" Leon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you stand over the patio table, cleaning up the abandoned plates and platters.

You hum. It was; a beautiful, cloudless July 4th, spent with Leon's friends in the backyard of your home. The only ones missing were Ashley and Ingrid; the former having a standing family commitment and the latter planning to spend her holiday on the beach, away from the country and your fiancé.

Typically, Chris hosted the Independence Day cookout, but Leon offered up your new home as this year's venue, citing your in-ground pool and the plenty of extra space you have for guests to stay. In reality, he just wanted the chance to out-grill Chris - he'd been preparing since Memorial Day; testing different spice and sauce combinations as well as stocking your freezer full of large cuts of meat.

He'd started before you were even awake, chopping and seasoning in the kitchen, slowly loading up the smoker. You'd joined him on the patio a few hours later, watching from your pool floaty as he poked and prodded at various things.

You don't even eat meat, didn't know the whole thing was so involved, but you did enjoy the view; worn blue jeans hugging his frame as he crouched to check a thermometer.

You had taken a short break from the water, tying up lights and setting a few little decorations around before your guests arrived. Rebecca was the first, tucking her jugs of pre-made cocktail and platter of deviled eggs into your fridge before joining you on the patio.

Chris wasn't far behind, unloading two coolers filled with beer and containers of homemade potato and pasta salads. He'd handed one off to you, grinning, "Claire made one just for you this year."

You'd thanked him, making another attempt to get him to share his family's recipes with you. It was futile, you probably couldn't even waterboard it out of either of them.

Claire had arrived on her motorcycle shortly after, pulling a bundle of fireworks out of her saddlebags. "Sorry I'm late," she said - even though she wasn't - dumping the pile on the ground, thankfully far away from the grill. "Had to stop for these."

Leon had crouched down to inspect them, listening intently as Claire told him about all the different varieties she'd purchased while you relaxed back into the pool.

Sherry arrived next, Jake trailing behind her. She'd left both him and her bags of chips at the table, giving Leon and Claire quick hugs before immediately joining you in the water.

She'd slipped in right beside your floaty, grabbing your hand to get a look at your engagement ring - she'd yet to see it, having been so busy with work. Her eyes widened at the ring as she pushed her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head, "Leon picked this out? Our Leon? Leon Kennedy? Are you sure?"

You'd giggled at her astonishment, "Ashley helped him out; took him to one of her favorite jewelers."

"I should've guessed," She nods. "For my 20th Birthday, he bought me this crazy cute pink tennis bracelet and I was like, 'no way you picked this out alone.' He fessed up that he got a little help from a friend named Ashley.

"At the time, I thought it was just some girlfriend - or hoped, I guess. Back then, I spent a lot of time hoping that Claire and Leon weren't just… working; I liked to think they were taking time for themselves, that they were happy," she had trailed off then, looking off to the tree line behind your house for a minute. Blinking the mist from her eyes, she shrugged, continuing on, "Anyways, I'm thankful to Ash for that bracelet, it was there with me though… a lot. And I'm thankful to you for making him happy, like I always wanted him to be."

With that, you slid off the float to give her a hug, holding her tight as you whispered your thanks. You had worked to bite back your tears - if she didn't cry, neither would you.

Luckily, Jill had walked in a few seconds later, providing a distraction in the form of the most ridiculously large watermelon. "Hey, Kennedy," she shouted, pulling Leon out of his conversation with Claire as she gestured to the melon tucked under her arm. "Can't burn this, can I?"

Leon had thrown his head back with a laugh - in previous years, Jill had always brought boxed brownies with extra crispy edges and Leon invariably had to make a comment about them. "I don't know," he had shrugged, "When it comes to you, Valentine, I'll never say never."

Jill had reared the watermelon back, acting as if she was going to throw it at him. Leon had thrown his arms up, shielding his face, causing everyone to crumble into laughter at the scene.

"It was nice," you agree, reaching to pick up the barong machete he had given Jill when she asked for a knife to cut the melon. "We do have kitchen knives, you know," you scold mockingly, gently waving the blade around.

"I know," he says, releasing you to reach around and pluck the machete out of your hand. "It's good to exercise these every once in a while, though."

You roll your eyes at him, "It's a machete, Leon, not a horse."

He waves you off, slipping through the patio door to wash the blade in the kitchen sink. You take the opportunity to speed clean, knowing it'll be a much harder task once he returns and wraps his arms back around you.

Thankfully everyone had taken care of their own plates and cups - they'd tried to stay and do more but you had ushered them out of the backyard, wanting Chris, Sherry and Jake to depart before the traffic picked up with the crowds leaving the city following the fireworks shows. Jill, Claire and Rebecca had taken up on your offer to stay, at least, piling into your guest rooms. You were glad to have them, secretly plotting to drag them to brunch once you all woke.

You finish piling the platters as Leon makes his way back outside. Before he can get his hands on you and derail your progress, you point to the stack, "Take those inside."

He frowns, "Can't it just wait until tomorrow?"

"We'll get ants; come on, five minutes and it'll be done."

He sighs, but doesn't protest further, carrying the heavy plates inside as you follow him with the utensils. You stack everything by the sink before turning to him, "Is there any of Becca's cocktail left?"

He cocks his brow, tilting his head, "You really want to try that again?"

It's a valid question - you had given it a go earlier and despite everyone's warnings to take it easy, you had thrown back a large mouthful right off the bat. You ended up wincing in pain, "Fuck, that burns. What'd you put in there, Becca?"

She'd shrugged, "Oh, you know, a splash of this, a splash of that. And," she teased, drawing out the vowel, "A bit of my own creation."

"Your own creation…" You had muttered, trailing off before it hit you, "Test tube alcohol?"

She had giggled, grinning, "Takes some getting used to."

You had tried another, much tinier sip. You were able to enjoy the sweetness of the juice for a moment before the burn kicked in again, causing you to curse once more, louder.

Leon had shifted his attention from Chris to you at your exclamation. Seeing the jug of Rebecca's cocktail in front of you on the table, he quickly pieced together what was happening, calling over to Rebecca from his place by the grill, "You trying to kill my fiancé, Becks?"

"Absolutely not; that'd be a stupid thing for me to do," she'd shot back. "She's the only one who can keep you in line, and we kind of like you like that."

"Well," you start, rolling the word around your mouth, "No. But yes - there's gotta be some sort of trick to it, right? Everyone else drank it just fine."

"The trick is," he starts, voice low, reaching out to grab ahold of your hips, "To not drink it. Let me make you some tea instead."

"Fine," you pout, relaxing into his grip, not bothering to argue - tea won't make you hate yourself in the morning.

He moves his hands from your hips, sliding his fingertips along your spine. "Go wait outside," he says, releasing you with a featherlight kiss to your forehead, "I'll bring it out."

With a brush of your lips against his cheek in thanks, you slip away from him, heading back out to the backyard and pulling off your shorts, settling onto the ledge of the shallow end of the pool. The air has cooled with the setting of the sun, becoming a comforting warmth instead of an overbearing heat. You dip your legs into the water, thankful you insisted on having a pool when you and Leon were house hunting.

Someone is still setting off fireworks; they're a few miles away, though - you can hear them more than you can see them. Resting back on your palms, you close your eyes, imagining what bursts of color may be accompanying each sound.

Leon joins you a few minutes later - just after the fireworks had died down - sporting his swim shorts and carrying your tea. He bends, setting the mug next to you with a kiss to your temple, nosing at your hair. "Earl Grey," he reports before drawling, "How terribly unpatriotic of you."

"You going to arrest me for treason, Agent Kennedy?" You laugh, reaching up to squeeze his thigh below the hem of his shorts. "You're the one who made it; they'd nail you as an accomplice."

He falls into a crouch, leg muscles bunching under the pads of your fingertips as he shifts closer to touch his lips on your cheek. "They can hang us together, then," he remarks, voice a bit too serious for it to be just a joke. "Side by side, off the same branch."

You sit back just enough to get your eyes focused on him, reaching your other hand out to thumb at his bottom lip. "Dulce et decorum est pro cor mori," you whisper, tacking on a hum in question.

He cocks his head at the unfamiliar words, nipping at your nail playfully, "English please, baby."

You consider him for a moment, the translation of the true phrase running through your mind; how sweet and honorable it is to die for one's country. The old lie, it's come to be known as - fittingly.

It's a similar sentiment to one that's grown to become your fear; that he'll die for the sake of the country, under orders from the government, believing it was his duty.

But you think your spin on it may be true; would be willing to find out.

You don't want to weigh him down with the thought, though, choosing to reel him in for a kiss instead. "I love you," is the answer you settle on, laying the words down right on his tongue.

He seems content with your translation - the method of delivery likely having something to do with it - humming into your mouth. He kisses you back lazily for a long, languid moment before he pulls away, "As much as I'm enjoying this, I've been wanting to get in there all day," he says, nodding his head towards the water.

"Go," you chuckle, giving him a gentle push away from you with the hand still resting along his face.

He lays another quick peck against your lips before standing, padding around the edge to the steps. He pauses for a moment to pull his shirt over his head, skin honeyed under the soft glow of the lights you'd hung around the patio.

A second later, he slips under the surface without hesitation; kicking off the steps, moving quickly to the deep end. He almost shimmers as he glides along the floor of the pool, the rippling of the gentle waves he'd created making him seem like some sort of mirage as he passes by you.

He comes up for air once he hits the far wall, tossing his hair back, smoothing the water from his eyes. He doesn't rest long, though, beginning to swim short laps across the width of the deep end.

You observe him, sipping your tea slowly, appreciating the way his back and arms work with each stroke. He continues long enough for you to nearly drain your cup, stopping short when another trio of fireworks set off in the distance.

Setting your mug down, you eye him, preparing to slip into the pool to soothe him if you have to, but he relaxes once he connects the sound to the flashes in the sky. The tension that had flooded the line of his shoulders drains into the water as he shifts to wade backward, moving closer to where you sit.

You finish off your drink as he starfishes out across the surface of the water, floating just a few feet in front of you. You wonder if you could use him as a floaty, pinning up a note in your brain to try it out sometime.

"I'm glad you insisted on a pool, sweetheart," he sighs, breaking your companionable silence.

You hum, pleased, kicking your legs out gently and causing the water to lap against his skin. More fireworks sound out; he doesn't tense this time, but he does get his feet back under himself, moving to where you sit along the ledge.

Sliding his hands up your legs, he pillows his head in your lap, wet hair fanning out across your thighs. You shift your weight back onto your right hand, laying the other along his jaw. His eyes flutter closed as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and the scar that runs beneath it.

He picks at the tie of your bathing suit absentmindedly, tugging at the strings when you slide your hand into his hair, scratching at his scalp. "Sherry said something to me earlier."

He makes a noise urging you to elaborate, not bothering to open his eyes.

"She told me that when she was younger, she hoped that you and Claire were living your lives; that you were doing more than just working, you know? She said she wanted you guys to be happy," you explain, working to keep your voice even.

He cracks his eyes open, picking his head up to watch you as you continue. "She thanked me," you swallow thickly, "for making you happy, like she always wanted you to be."

He smiles at your words, and it's a beautiful thing. You still get all twisted up inside with how gorgeous he is; neurons overclocking themselves with the thrill of being the subject of his attention.

"I owe you a thank you, too, baby," he starts, pausing to nose at your wrist.

"You don't owe me anything, Leon," you tug at his damp strands still between your fingers, highlights catching the yellow glow from the lights around the patio.

"I do," he says, the words sending a jolt through you. You never intended on getting married, yet here you are now, eager to hear the phrase on the altar.

He kisses the thin skin of your wrist, lips lingering as if he can feel the thrum of your heartbeat; knows that the pace has picked up under his affection. "All this," he pulls back, taking a hand off you to gesture to the pool; the backyard; the house; to you. "It's something I never thought I'd get.

"Sherry's right - you're behind basically every bit of happiness I have now, sweetheart; I owe it all to you." He reaches up, untangling your grip from his hair, thumbing gently at the ring he put there, "Thank you."

You can't respond verbally, will burst into tears if you do. In lieu of speech, you lean forward, pressing your lips against his insistently.

He seems to get the message; understands that the pleasure is all yours, that you'd give him anything and everything you can - knowing he'd do the same for you.

He gets his arms back around you, continuing your kiss as he lifts you from the edge of the pool and into the water with him. You wrap your legs around his waist, safe and secure in his hold.

His teeth catch along your bottom lip and the neighbors down the street set off fireworks, the bright bursts of color painting your backyard in reds and blues and greens and oranges. The sparks reflect off the surface of the water as he slides his nose against yours and not for the first time, you think this may all be a dream. Maybe you died four years ago and this whole thing has been some sort of afterlife; you aren't sure you'd done anything worth this treatment, though.

Maybe it's more supernatural in origin; an intricate hallucination weaved by a Djinn that's got you chained up in some dark, damp basement as it feeds off your blood. Or maybe you just went crazy and the pool is actually a padded room, Leon's mouth against yours a product of your mind working to distract itself from your reality.

Whatever the case may be, it certainly feels real when he shifts his hold on you, hoists you up higher to get at your neck, laying kisses up and down the column of your throat, nipping at your jaw.

But before he can venture much further, the neighbor's fireworks show grows into an extravaganza, the relentless popping and bursting becoming a nuisance, shattering the illusion of your teeny-boppy movie moment.

"Jeez," Leon mutters, breath hot against the saliva cooling on your skin, causing you to shudder. "Did they buy out a whole tent?"

"Did you check that Claire actually went to bed?" You ask, shaking yourself free of his hold. "She could've joined them; brought everything I wouldn't let her set off here."

He hums, letting you down into the water, considering your words - even though you said it as a joke, it certainly is a possibility. You seem to come to this realization at the same time, eyes narrowing at each other as the spray of fireworks continues overhead. "We should…" He starts, nodding towards the stairs.

"Yeah," you agree, already beginning to move.

You pause to grab your towels, wrapping your own around yourself, throwing the other over Leon's shoulders when you catch up to him at the patio door. Stepping inside, you hear someone knocking around your kitchen.

Luckily, it's Claire. She steps back from the cabinet she'd been rifling through to face you and Leon with a frown. "Isn't this shit ridiculous?" She remarks, pointing to the ceiling in reference to the fireworks.

"You're one to talk, Claire," Leon shoots back. "Didn't you just set off about five hundred dollars worth of them in my backyard a few hours ago?"

"Yes, a few hours ago," she reiterates. "Nothing should be set off after the show at the Capitol is finished - after that, you're done; you missed your shot; better luck next year."

"Exactly," you nod in agreement at her reasoning, "They should put you in charge."

She grins at your words, moving to continue on, but Leon cuts in before she can start; "What is it that you were clawing through my cabinets for?"

She sighs, displeased with his interruption, setting her hands on her hips. "Where do you keep the ibuprofen?"

Leon shoos her out of the way, padding across the kitchen to get the medicine himself. Claire relents without argument, attention immediately shifting back to you as she leans over the counter. "So," she wiggles her eyebrows, "It seems like that pool was a good investment, huh?"

You bite at your lip, ears burning with embarrassment that she'd seen you and Leon necking in the water like teenagers - even though you shouldn't be flustered; it is your house, after all.

Leon sets the bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water down in front of Claire, annoyance evident with the way he uses a bit more force than really necessary, causing the items to clack against the marble.

"What?" Claire questions, glaring at him. "It was cute."

Leon huffs in response, unable to hide the flush that crawls up his neck at her words. You can't help the giggle that bubbles out of you, enjoying the way they bicker like siblings.

Claire leaves Leon to stew, tossing you a grin as she collects the bottle and glass, bidding you goodnight once more before she leaves the kitchen.

You move around the counter to Leon, steps careful in an effort not to slip on the water that has dripped off him and onto the tile. The neighbors must've ran out of fireworks while you were distracted by Claire as it's silent when you wrap your arms around him, tucking your face into his neck. "Still a good day?" You ask, voice muffled against his skin.

He slings an arm around you, fingers fanning out along the small of your back, "Still a good day."

#if anyone would like to see the ring i literally had a mockup created #because im crazy #its not exactly what i was thinking so i may have another one done.... we will see #also if my latin is incorrect just ignore it pls #its been over 4 years since my last latin class #my hs latin teacher would be mortified to know i had to google declensions #and still probably fucked it up #sorry mr. d.....#(inbox)#(writing)#leon kennedy #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy x you #what is The leon x reader tag #i've yet to figure it out

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nepenthean-sleep · 5 days ago

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tumblr user nepenthean-sleep's favorite griddlehark fics of all time

hi. i promised a continuation of my griddlehark recs series literally a year ago and never posted it. this is because my life went and exploded in 14 different insane ways and i have been Going Through It. however, as a parting gift to 2024, one of the Years of all time, i present to you, from my personal and extremely picky collection: my all-time favorite griddlehark fics of various ratings.

and if you do, I'll know it's you T - astardanced a short collection of one-shots done in different literary styles: thomas malory, william shakespeare, and jane austen. this fic is so incredibly well done and it made me want to eat drywall. the shakespeare one in particular had me screaming

semi-charmed kinda life E - strangedelight / @griddlebait okay many people already know of this incredible fic nicknamed "sckl" but for those that don't: it's a long multi-chapter fic set in the 1990s. this is probably my favorite fanfiction, of any fandom, ever. my god the dyke drama, the portrayal of butchness, the nuance, the historical (yikes) accuracy, the slow burn, the poignancy, the tension!! the prose is incredible and every chapter leaves me hanging on the edge of my seat.

God Is Dog Spelled Backwards M - labyrinthineRetribution / @thatneoncrisis labyrinthineRetribution is one of my favorite writers in this entire fandom and this fic does not disappoint. it's a multi-chapter modern au where griddlehark are roommates and harrow suddenly adopts this weird dog. it's as much about weird magical dogs as it is about grief and loss and resentment and shared custody of a vibrator. labyrinthineRetribution is, as always, masterful at writing a griddlehark relationship that really channels the weird dysfunctionality and homoeroticism of the canon relationship and stays true to gideon and harrow's canon personalities.

fancy footwork & a bleeding bloodline M - JodsTablet / @jods-tablet this fic has been keeping me awake at 4am lately because i keep rereading it LMAO. multi-chapter professional ballet au. as someone who is dance and theatre-adjacent myself, i just absolutely love this fic so much. it really captures the thrill of performance and practicing and production, and how these emotions heighten the tension (be it positive or negative) between gideon and harrow. there are a lot of parallels to canon as well, which i really love, and i'm so excited to see where this fic goes. also i love g1deon, mercy, and augustine in this fic so much ❤

like the gates of hell E - Ptolemia post-ntn oneshot. this fic made me laugh so fucking hard, the dialogue is amazing. "yorf it" has, unfortunately, made it into my vocabulary. the fic is sweet (well. as much as post-ntn griddlehark can be, considering the corpse stuff) but its also deeply funny and comedic.

and then, for the returning favorites (aka copy-pasted from my previous rec series):

you're still the one pool where i'd happily drown E - valancytrinit / @valancietrinit long post-ntn speculative multi-chapter. i love everything about this fic. i was literally hanging on every word when i read each chapter for the first time. the writing is incredible. there is a shower scene that is legitimately fucking shakespearean. additionally, i absolutely love the way that harrow’s mental health is portrayed in this fic as someone who struggles with similar conditions.

illbringthestrap69420 liked your post E - imalwaysstraight / @nooomagnus long multi-chapter college/uni au. the enemies to anonymous tumblr mutuals to lovers fic. listen. this fic is an incredible experience for dramatic irony enjoyers. this fic is like dramatic irony: the fic. i love this fic so fucking much. another fic that has kept me on the edge of my seat while reading.

We Have Always Lived In The Apartment T - labyrinthineRetribution / @thatneoncrisis long multi-chapter modern au. (deep breath) one of my favorite tlt fics of all time. not to spoil anything, but the writing reminds me a lot of tamsyn's own writing style: there's weird identity shit going on, there's weird homoerotic shit going on, there's weird mystery shit going on. the girls are Heinous and there's bones. what more could you want from a tlt fic.

for better, for worse T - mutterandmumble oneshot. college AU. oh my god this one is hilarious i was crying laughing. two absolutely insufferable lesbians argue in a wendy's drive-through at 2am. one of my favorite fics of all time.

thank you to all the writers listed here for sharing your work with the fandom! i've had so much fun reading and rereading these fics ❤ thank you for all your hard work and thoughtfulness in writing these characters that are so dear to so many people.

#gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #griddlehark #the locked tomb #fic recs #neph.txt #neph tltposting

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grassyhorizon45 · 5 months ago

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Could you do a fic where y/n has did, but it doubting themselves and convincing themselves they don't have it? Or just more fics with did. I love reading them but I can't find very many

ok.. so this rotted my brain a little and ended up becoming maybe quite long :D srry in advanced for all the DID terms and such :3 pt 2 will come soon I promise.

Help.

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

Marauders x Y/n but she realises something a little different about herself and the insecurity starts to build.

Warnings: A small bit of yelling, mostly fluff...and a few big words :D

Words: 718

It was subtle at first…

“H-Huh? What do you mean potion class was yesterday?”

“How did I end up here again?”

Then the voices, occasional laughs no one else could hear—

“Siri, I'm h-hearing things again…”

Remus heard from across the room. “Again bunny?” “That's not good, maybe we should talk to a professor about it?” Sirius suggested.

Y/n refused…… refused to alert the professors of her anomaly, refused to admit it was hindering her ability to function—

Refused to admit it bothered her a lot.

“I told you about the party three times already… What do you mean ‘I never mentioned anything about a party’??!” James put a hand on Sirius's shoulder at the sight of Y/n tensing up. “Calm down Pads, there's no need to yell.

Sirius took a deep breath, “I just… d-don't understand, love.”

……I don't understand either.

* * *

“I think I found an answer,” Remus said when they were hanging out in the boys’ room one day.

“An answer?” asked James. “To Y/n’s sudden… forgetfulness.”

“And the voices?” Y/n couldn't stop herself from blurting. Remus smiled to himself proudly, “And the voices, bunny.”

“You found the cause, Moons?” Sirius walked over to the boy whose nose was deep into his book, ruffling Remus’ light brown hair.

“It's called Dissociative Identity Disorder…”

“Disso- Wh-What?” Y/n couldn't catch the word.

“A character in this book has it… He's very detached sometimes and he tends to forget events he and his friends witnessed; so kind of like you, bunny.”

“D-Detached? D-Do I-?” James nodded at Y/n’s question. “Sometimes, baby.”

“He talks to himself occasionally too,” Remus added about the character’s description. “The protagonist thinks it's schizophrenia, but the narrator says it's cause of the voices in his head–”

“Imma stop you there, Moony,” Sirius butt-in as he saw the slight panic growing in Y/n's eyes. “For one, how do we know if this ‘identity disorder’ thing isn’t something the author made up, and two, if our bunny actually has it. Additionally if so, what do we do about it?”

Sirius made a valid point, yet all Y/n's mind could cling on to was how accurate Remy’s fictional character resembled the things she was experiencing.

“Baby, you okay?” James put a steady hand around her waist.

Y/n blinked a few times, bringing herself back to the present.

“Y-Yeah, I'm good,” she assured her three worried looking boyfriends. “C-Can you write the d-disorder down for me Remy? I think I'll hit the library.”

“Why don't we pay the library a visit together? I'm down to crack this case,” said Sirius, eager to get started.

“Sirius Orion Black wanting to visit the library?” James gasped sarcastically. “Never heard of it,” beamed Remus.

Y/n giggled, “Okay, okay. You guys can come too.”

* * *

Digging deeper into this so-called ‘Dissociative Identity Disorder’, there were subdiagnoses like OSDD: Other Specified Dissociative Disorder or just amnesia itself could be a possibility.

Y/n's boyfriends all had their heads wrapped around learning things like multiple personalities, dissociative amnesia, headspace theory, and even causes of DID.

“I d-don't even have ‘alters’......"

"Guys, it's not so important, we can just let it slide you know…” Y/n mumbled, hating the silence of endless research.

“Plus Jamie, you have a match against Hufflepuff tomorrow… Shouldn't you practice?”

“You're right,” James remembered. “I do have a match…”

Remus shrugged, “Go ahead Prongs, we don't mind.”

James said a quick thanks before hurrying off. Y/n turned to look at Sirius. The black haired was sprawled on the library table, snoring softly.

Was never a bookworm that man, unlike Remus.

“Rem, I think we should leave it,” Y/n said to him as he asked yet another ‘are you experiencing this’ question.

“We just wanna help you figure this out bunny…”

“I know… But it's not really a big deal and it's probably just me being forgetful and a touch of sleep deprivation anyways. Look, even Siri’s fast asleep… At least take a break, love?”

“Alright.”

It wasn't that Y/n didn't trust her significant others, nor was it really because she was tired. All she wanted was to shut off all possibilities that she could actually be mentally unstable, to make sure she wasn't being a walking ‘waste of time’.

Yet...

She couldn't shake the bugging thought that this whole thing was somehow a facade......

A trick her mind had orchestrated for attention...

...what?

#it's gonna be one heck of a ride guys #requests are still welcomed! :D #fanfic #marauders #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #poly!marauders x reader #remus x reader #james x reader #sirius x reader #the marauders #marauders era #dissociative identity disorder #did system #did osdd #harry potter

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iamnmbr3 · 3 months ago

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Great answers! I do love the idea of Sirius as DADA teacher!

Here's another one for you: rank these characters from worst to best for the post of Minister of Magic

Albus Dumbledore

Lucius Malfoy

Sirius Black (again cause I love him and I read a fic about this once)

Minerva McGonagall

Barty Crouch Sr.

oh god. these clowns would all be such terrible minsters of magic. why are you doing this to me? ok fine. here goes.

Lucius Malfoy: I think because movie!Lucius was sort of toned down and defanged fandom sometimes forget what a nasty piece of work book!Lucius was before he had his downfall and got all sad and pathetic. Fanon!Lucius often gets turned into kind of a joke but book!Lucius was out there torturing muggles for fun by night while he had the ear of the Minister by day and was, seemingly, extremely adept at subtly spreading his pureblood supremacist agenda in government. (Honestly, better at it than Tom because unlike Tom he actually cared). Also in book 4 it's very clear that if he had gotten hold of Hermione - a fourteen year old child - on the World Cup grounds he would've attacked her without hesitation (been eager for it, in fact). Yeah he wasn't down with Voldemort's whole thing but that was more because of the effect it had on him personally. with Voldemort out of the picture he was top dog and he was doing just fine. All this to say, as Minister the policies he enacts are...not good to say the least. He'd be out there building a violent pureblood supremacist dictatorship in a heartbeat.

Albus Dumbledore: Albus says he can't be trusted with the power of being Minister and honestly...I believe him. He'd still play the same messed up manipulation games he plays in canon but on a much larger scale (while simultaneously feeling bad about it and telling himself it's for the greater good). He does some truly epic mental gymnastics to convince himself he needs to make himself dictator for life and then things spiral because obviously anyone who resists him is evil right? Right? Of course! The alternative is that he is wrong and he doesn't want to think about that. Also, he doesn't seem that bothered by house elf slavery and his ideas for getting nonhuman magical creatures on his side in canon seemed to involve asking nicely but not actually granting them rights. So I'm not super optimistic on that front. So yeah. This just turns into the whole of wizarding Britain getting gaslit and thrown into insane situations by a madman who seems so wholesome and lovable and yet... Also. Given how poorly organized the Order is I think it's safe to say that all other flaws aside, the man does not have a gift for management.

Barty Crouch Sr.: Listen. He ALSO sucks. Very clearly ok with slavery, not a fan of due process, and allowed Aurors to torture confessions out of suspects. His only saving grace is that he does love rules so he'd probably eventually step down and wouldn't make as many potentially damaging changes as Dumbledore.

Minerva McGonagall: Her no nonsense attitude ensures that any meeting she runs actually accomplishes things. She's smart. She's sane. She's stable. She doesn't care about ending slavery or changing the status quo, but she's a lot better than most of the options. She's not especially creative or good at political games though which often hampers her ability to carry out objectives and prevent bad actors (i.e. Lucius and his faction) from getting their way.

Sirius Black: What does the man who hates authority do when he finds himself in a position of ultimate authority? I don't know but I'd love to read about it! Sirius is actually pretty shrewd (contrary to fanon) and I think he'd actually turn out to be a natural at handling politics (much as he might hate it). He also understands traditional pureblood society (he is a Black after all) but he doesn't idolize it (he hates being a Black) which would allow him to understand and work with multiple factions. Additionally he can be forceful and authoritative. He's impatient, often biased and unfair, sometimes quite cruel, can be temperamental, and again, has 0 problem with slavery. So like. He's not good per say, but he's actually better than some of the others. (At least with him meetings are never dull because if he gets bored enough he just turns into a dog and eats the agenda).

#asks #Sirius Black #Harry Potter #my meta #meta

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dinasfavslut · 1 year ago

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LoserEllie x Fem!reader

a/n: This fic was supposed to come out in late August or early September, so I am a month late, and I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy it since I've spent a while on this (I started writing and never finished).

Warnings:smut 18+ Minors just dont interact, Smoking, Sexual thoughts, Cussing, Pet names, Teasing, Oral, Fingering, Slight mention of strap, Squirting

Everyone is aware that Ellie smokes; we have all seen it. Of course, there are also the dealer Ellie fics, which I absolutely love, but just picture Ellie making reader squirt for the first time while high!

Ellie calls you over for the "usual" hangout of smoking, fighting while playing the latest video game she purchased, exchanging lust-filled glances at each other, and taking turns going to the restroom to deal with your neediness so you don't pounce on one another. The typical predicament continues.

"Okay, how about a crash bandicoot?”

She places the joint between her soft pink lips and says, "I mean, it's whatever." Her fingers, god, her fingers, her hands, and how she flexes them after spending long hours writing or drawing, playing the guitar, rolling blunts and joints—you could go on and on...and on—is almost down to her fingers when she takes another drag.

You two have long been "friends." Everyone in town knows that you and Ellie are more than "just friends", but as far as the relationship goes, it isn't dating or just a friendship, and that kills you. You like Ellie; you really like her, and smoking enhances that feeling toward her. Additionally, it also helps to want to get pounded by her right on the couch.

She had already loaded the game and begun playing while you were still deep in thought. She was so engrossed in her game that you could see her thumbs and fingers pressing and moving the various buttons. "I'm going to get a snack, Els. You want something." She gave a brief glance over, not straining her head from facing the TV. Her gaze seemed to remain fixed on your body as you stood up, pressing your thighs together as you did so.

"Yeah..." You entered the kitchen in search of a bite to quell your hunger. You discovered cookies, popcorn, Cheezits, and wet wipes after searching the cabinets. Why were wet wipes kept in the snack cabinet?

“Ellie?” You gave her a concerned-confused look as she held up the wipes.

“What?” She looked at you, and you just waved around the wipes.

"Uh, well, keep the ants away.”

“Where the fuck did you hear that?”

“I read it or something somewhere... But that isn't a snack, bubs.” Obviously, the wet wipes weren't a snack. You walk over to her and straddle her lap.

"I'm not going to make you eat the wet wipes." Your thoughts had returned to what had just been said a few moments prior: "Wait, Ellie Williams, do you have ants!?" She gave you a dumbfounded look like a middle school boy who had just been scolded. "You have ants when you were about to let us eat food from your cupboard?"

"Calm down, baby. The wet wipes carried out their duties."

"And how do you know that?"

"I didnt hear any screaming that you saw an ant," she said. She shifted into a new position, pushing her hips a up little higher. You noticed this bump or something rigid. None of those properly expresses what you felt. The bulge in her pants was pressing directly on your clit while you were seated on Ellie's lap. You were soaked through, which was unfortunate for you. You were wet before, of course, but now it was leaking through.

Ellie picked you up and set you down next to her, but she quickly noticed the mess you had made beneath yourself. "You, um, do you need any help with..." you nodded quickly in order to get to you something you have been waiting ages for while also stopping her from finishing her sentence she laid you down in front of her, lifted up your skirt to let it rest on your torso, and pulled off the green underwear you had chosen to wear that day, which of course would need to be washed. "Just relax for me; it is okay, I’l make it feel good, promise". You trusted her i mean why wouldnt you- your trusted ellie with yourself at least, so when she kept kissing the inside of your thighs, you didn't question, but you did whine.

“Els please”

"Right, I'm sorry." She gave you her silly little smile before returning to her task at hand. Her lips were almost immediately attached to your clit. You whimpered and gasped loudly from her movements. The effects of the weed haven't faded quite yet, making all of Ellie's movements feel 10 times better, but let's be real, it's Ellie fucking Williams, and you've been wainting for this forever.

“E-el-” She slid her agile, calloused fingers into your cunt, causing you to let out an exasperated gasp, followed by a loud moan. You tilted your head forward to see her face. Her eyes were stuck to the way you just kept dripping and how her fingers were being swallowed up so easily.

“Ive got you, babe. Lay back for me. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?" Responding to her request, you nod and lay down. The pace of her fingers quickens, and she hits a spot that makes your head feel light and your tummy coil.

"Els, please." Ellies, ignoring your pleads, having lust take over. Completely, you feel yourself about to let go at any minute, any second, but it's not like all the times you've fingered yourself to the thought of her before. Ellie's mouth on your clit, her fingers thrusting out of you, you moan louder than you even knew your voice could handle. She continued quickening her pace until she drained everything out of you. You “came” all over her hands, face, and couch. She pulled her head back and paused for a moment. “I-I am so sorry, I didn't mean.”

She places her finger over your mouth to hush your apologies. "It's alright, angel; I know you couldn't help it.” You were embarrassed by your actions, but somehow, even though she had a big mess that she had to clean up, her reassuring words made everything fine. She leans right over you and places a kiss on your lips. “I think I'm in love with you. Actually, I know that I'm in love with you. I love you, bubs.”

"I love you too Els."

#the last of us 2 #ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #the last of us ellie #the last of us smut #tlou part 2

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writersdrug · 1 year ago

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Ghost x Konig x Reader: I Don't Need You (Ch. 6)

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Summary: You (surprisingly) get more comfortable with Kortac, and slowly let yourself connect with the team. You subconsciously tether yourself to Konig, who is more than willing to help you fit in. The pain of the past begins to fade into the back of your mind like the end of a long chapter of your life.

Additionally, Konig starts asking the hard questions - it unearths a piece of you that you'd hoped would remain buried, but you still share the memories with Konig.

Chapter warnings: Mentions of violence, mentions of rape, cursing, google translate German, shirtless Soap, very EXTREMELY watered-down mentions of sexual themes (we ain't there yet, boiis)

Notes: Sorry it took so long, I've got a lot cooking in the kitchen now and I'm hoping to pump out a lot this week!

Additionally, I've had some comments on this work not being an x Reader. First off, I never want to mislead anyone. I label this as an x Reader because Bonnie is not an OC of mine. I've seen other x Reader fics include callsigns that refer to the reader, so I assumed using Bonnie similarly would be alright. I also mentioned a name ONCE in chapter 3, "Jane Morris," which I thought to be a very generic name, and I haven't used it since and don't plan to. I have a personal preference of writing longer, chapter-by-chapter fics in first POV because it feels more natural to me than second POV. The same goes for using y/n - I like to avoid it if I can because it feels unnatural.

Again, those last two thing are a personal preference. I'm not bashing any fics that use these things at all, I enjoy both ones that do and ones that don't, and I don't enjoy one over the other. When I say one feels more natural than the other, I mean it feels more natural to write, not to read. I'm debating changing the name I used in chapter 3 to just y/n l/n to make this a true x Reader. If you still feel like I should change this to an x OC please let me know and I'll be happy to adjust the tags, titles, and descriptions. Again, I never meant to be misleading, and I hope I didn't make anyone angry. If a mistake has been made I am happy to learn from it. Thanks!

Konig had cracked the code on me. He figured out that after a case of American beers and a long drive, away from the crowd of new faces, my outer shell began to soften.

There was still a wall that I was holding up between me and everyone else, even though it was significantly smaller than usual. When Roze and Castillo approached me at breakfast, I didn’t get up and leave. And when Juno used the empty spot in the gym room right next to me, dropping his bag on the floor and giving me a cautious glance as he set up for his routine - I didn’t grab my things and move to the other end of the room. That was my first instinct, but I fought it. Instead I huffed, facing the mirror in front of me and focusing on my sets.

I’d started going to the common area more often – maybe not every night, but often enough. We’d make it a habit to play poker on the nights I did show up. I was better than most of the group, since none of them were quite used to my mannerisms yet. However, Konig and Horangi still took the lead as the winners, despite most of us arguing that they shouldn’t be allowed to play if they were going to wear their masks. The argument would eventually turn into a casual conversation – I didn’t engage in it too often. I preferred to sit and listen, using the time to slowly learn more about the team. I typically planted myself between Roze and Konig, keeping my legs crossed on the seat and nervously fiddling with my Yuengling bottle.

Although I was ashamed to admit it, Konig had become a conduit for my interactions with the rest of the team. The way he engaged with their activities, yet still managed to stay reserved, struck a chord with me. I respected the fact that it could sometimes be difficult to find him on base, and that at the same time, he was always there when I started to feel overwhelmed. I didn’t need him, no… that was a stretch. But sometimes I felt grateful that he was so eager to accompany me places – especially when he invited me to go on “perimeter checks” with him, which mostly consisted of long drives off base.

I don’t know how I had grown to appreciate him so much – maybe it was because he felt similar to me, in the way that we both needed our alone time, and with how we often found ourselves slipping out of the common area around the same time, with the original excuse being that we were tired. Half of the time, we would sit in the mess hall and talk until the early hours of the morning.

“A sniper?” I asked on one particular night, fiddling with the mouth of my beer bottle. “You’re way to big for that – no offense.”

Konig chuckled. “And that’s what they initially told me.” He took a swig of his (nasty) German beer. “But, despite being handed other opportunities, I proved them wrong. I’m sill a damn good sniper.”

I huffed. “Nah, you should be happy you got promoted to Colonel; you’re lucky, you get to avoid being in the trenches – at least, as much as the rest of us.”

“Lucky? No…” Konig said, shaking his head. “I do not like being a Colonel. I’d much rather be doing the dirty work of soldiers than writing these stupid reports.” He slapped a large hand over the manilla folder that sat on the table next to his beer. “It keeps my head busy, and I don’t have to listen to myself think.”

I nodded while sipping my beer. “I completely get that – If I’m not actively doing something with my hands, my brain gets too loud. Like – like there’s a mini me in my head, and the only way to drown her out is by physically doing something. Anything, really.”

Konig laughed – almost a snort – “‘A mini you’. I like that, that’s good.”

I huffed a laugh through my nose, turning my head to hide the smirk on my face. Despite being a large, brutish man, he had a youthful essence about him. It was hidden deep beneath the thick exterior of a war-hardened soldier. But, every now and again, it rose to the surface, touching a part of my soul I hadn’t allowed to be seen in a long time.

I pushed my stack of bills into the middle of the table. “All in.” I said nonchalantly.

Gaz narrowed his eyes, leaning back in his chair and looking down his nose at me. “You’re bloody stupid…”

“Or really smart.” I retorted. I folded my arms over my chest, not wavering under his intimidating gaze.

It was unbearably hot in the room – whether that was from the tension of the game or the broken air conditioner (Price eternally insisted it would be fixed, “… by next week…”), I didn’t know. I was donned in my sweatpants and sports bra, Gaz was in a wife beater and sweats, Ghost was covered head to toe in a sweatshirt and jeans (one could ever rarely catch him wearing anything less), and Soap… well, Soap was Soap. Completely shirtless, with only a pair of gym shorts on. Typical for him to be so shameless.

Ghost looked at his cards, his jaw clearly tense underneath his mask. He wasn’t very good at hiding his unlucky hand – it was almost like he wasn’t even trying. Which was a possibility.

“Fucking hell… I fold.” He tossed his hand onto the table, revealing his sour bunch of cards. He walked to the fridge and cursed under his breath, rummaging through the contents.

“Jesus, you’re a load of dry shite.” Soap commented, leaning against the wall adjacent to Ghost. “You could’ve at least tried to intimidate ‘em.”

“You could try shutting your fucking mouth, alright?” Ghost snapped back. Soap raised his hands defensively, leaving Ghost by the fridge.

He flopped onto the couch near me and Gaz. “Miserable sap…”

I did my best to tune out their bickering. I stared down Gaz, tapping my fingers on the edges of my cards. I was relying on the river card – I had a chance at a four-of-a-kind, praying the last card on the table would be another seven.. It was risky, and Gaz was probably right in calling me stupid. But I was never one to back down from a challenge. I craved the thrill of it. Most of the time, I ended up getting lucky.

Gaz chewed his lip. He cocked an eyebrow, slowly pushing all of his cash to the middle of the table. “Call.” He said.

And I heard it – the telltale sign of his bluff. A fraction of a second where his voice had waivered, followed by him grinding his jaw. I knew I had it in the bag.

I was savoring the moment of triumph, watching Gaz stare at his cards, when I felt a hand on my back. I nearly spun around and yelled at whoever touched me, until I saw a gloved hand place a Yuengling bottle to my right, the lid already popped off. I faltered, staring at the bottle, feeling the hand on my back rubbing a thumb back and forth over my spine.

I glanced behind me, looking up to meet Ghost’s eyes. He was looking down at me with an empty gaze. His eyebrows twitched for a brief moment as he continued rubbing his thumb over the skin of my back.

I knew what he was suggesting. What he was asking. Put a woman on a compound with broken, touch-starved men, and eventually one of them will succumb to the temptation. Even so, I was shocked that it was Ghost. I would say he was showing a weakness here, no matter what he decided to call this – it was an admission that he needed something – something from me, specifically – which I never thought would happen.

He continued staring at me for another few moments, waiting for an answer. Keeping my eyes locked on him, I took the bottle and drank; my reply. He gave the tiniest nod, walking away and sitting down next to Soap – who was shuffling the remaining deck of cards, eyes narrowed at Gaz. He knew he was bluffing too.

I turned back to Gaz, smirking as he revealed the river card.

“You ever think about what you would say to those kids now?” I asked, tapping my beer bottle. “The ones who bullied you.”

Konig hummed. “Mm… not really. I don’t hold too much resentment.”

I chuckled. “If only we could all be a saint.”

“Well, it all happened so long ago.” Konig tried to justify himself. “We were only kids, bored and trying to stay on the surface. They just wanted to look tough so that no one would pick on them. Of course, I wouldn’t understand that as a kid. Maybe then, I would have admired what I’ve become, and I would have wanted to boast about it. But now that I am a Colonel – Ich habe besseres zu tun.”

I sarcastically rolled my eyes. “And that means?”

“Ehh…” he groaned, squinting his eyes. “How is it said… ‘I have bigger fishes to cook.’”

I sputtered, turning my head and laughing. Konig glared at me. “Gibt es ein Problem?” he asked, which I sort of understood. He sounded irritated, that much I could tell.

“No, Konig…” I said, standing up and giving him a pat on the shoulder as I walked by. “Just keep up the English lessons, ok?”

He scowled. “Verpiss dich… Start learning German and maybe I will.” He retorted, and I waved at him dismissively from behind my back.

I stuck my head into the fridge, grabbing a Yuengling and one of Konig’s beers. I walked back and placed them both next to him. Like instinct, he took each one and hooked their lid onto the edge of the table, then smacked the side of his hand down on the tops, sending the lid clattering to the ground. He opened my beer and handed it to me, then repeated the process with his, before reaching down and collecting the lids. He added them to the pile, totaling six beer lids so far.

If someone had shown me this image a year ago – Konig and I, sitting up late into the night, chatting like we’d known each other for decades… not to mention the fact that I was so unusually open with him… I would have been insulted. I would have laughed. No one would have been able to convince me that I would become so attached to anyone else after what had happened with the 141. Yet, all of this felt so natural. It was beyond how I felt that Konig and I were kindred spirits… it really did feel like I’d known him before. Maybe, he reminded me of a part of myself that I tried to bury away.

Or, maybe, I was just submitting to loneliness and trying to justify how quickly I clung to the first available soul. That was also an embarrassing possibility, one that I would rather not admit to.

“I have a question for you.” Konig’s voice and the clink of his beer bottle on the table brought me back to reality.

“I might have an answer.” I replied.

He looked off to the side, perhaps wondering whether or not he really wanted to ask the question. “Who did you kill? And why?”

Just like that, I felt the walls being built right back to where I had them. Bonding time’s over. Back to square one.

His inquiry caught me off guard. I froze, my bottle hovering in the air before I could take a sip, my eyes glued to the table. Just the mention of the incident brought the painful memories up to the surface, like claws scraping at the dirt, digging up the deepest roots.

“Lots of people.” I said, deflecting. I took a swig of my beer.

“You know what I mean.” He scoffed. “Why did you end up in military prison?” He leaned over the table – clearly not planning on letting the topic go.

I sucked my teeth, staring at him defiantly – moments ago, it was pleasant talking to him. Now, I was fighting back the urge to leave him at the table and go to my dorm. I felt ambushed at how he had changed the subject so abruptly. Like he had been waiting for me to carelessly stumble into the trap, and now he was watching me snarl from within it.

He leaned back with a sigh. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I just thought we were getting somewhere here.”

“Oh?” I said dryly, cocking an eyebrow. “’Getting somewhere?’ What’s that sup-“

“Hey, it’s ok.” He raised his hands defensively. “I get it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” His words were forgiving, but his eyes said something else – I knew what he was thinking.

Weak.

I gave him a hateful stare. Fucker know how to play his cards.

“I killed a sergeant.” I admitted. “My lieutenant’s right-hand man.”

That got Konig’s attention. He leaned forward again, putting his bottle off to the side. “Why?” he asked again.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, as I leaned back in my chair. My eyes fell to the floor as I forced myself to recall the memories. “In Egypt, a while back. Don’t ask when because I won’t tell you.” I warned Konig, and he huffed – but obliged.

I continued. “We were going in to retrieve a hostile target. Everyone was jumpy – me included. It was dark, and we didn’t know what to expect. After the hostiles started to engage, we were scattered. I got stuck in one tower, so I went upstairs to try and make a foxhole.”

I paused. It was now my own hands, covered in dirt, clawing at the roots of the memory. Each word I said was painful, yet somehow felt overshared. Like I was trying to get Konig to pity me. Except I wasn’t – I just wanted him to listen.

And that’s exactly what he did. No comforting shoulder pat, no soothing words… he just listened. He knew that if he stepped on the wrong spot, it would break my openness, like a branch breaking under his foot would disturb the silence of the woods.

“The sergeant – ‘Flare’ – he was up there, too. I thought we’d had the same idea, but… holy fuck…” I ran a hand down my face, feeling my heartbeat grow faster. “At first, I didn’t know what he was doing, I just heard him making those sounds and I thought he’d been hit, but… he was taking advantage of this – this woman – and with her kids right fucking there… she was probably just trying to hide, to hide them, she had to be so fucking scared… he didn’t even stop when I found him, I don’t know if he even heard me screaming at him.”

I paused, almost waiting for Konig to say or do something, but he remained silent. Despite my eyes never leaving the floor, I could see his blue ones watching me carefully. Concerned, patient, and calm.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” I said, my voice faltering the slightest bit. “So I shot him. In the head.” I unintentionally shivered. “Probably traumatized that poor woman and her kids, but… quick decisions aren’t the best ones.”

I ended my rant with a heavy sip of my beer. Konig continued watching me with wary eyes, which I ignored. I didn’t need consolation, or sympathy, or whatever he might try to offer. Somehow, he seemed to understand that.

“I would have done the same thing.” He commented.

Would you?

After a moment, he exhaled. “I don’t understand… I’d say you were in the right. Why did they put you in prison for that?”

I chewed my lip. “There was… some speculation, that I was jealous of his position. We’d been close throughout my time with the team, and when he got the promotion to second-in-command, I was a bit envious at first. People thought I was taking my anger out on him in what seemed like the perfect opportunity to lie.” I took another sip. “But I was happy for him. He worked hard, and he deserved it. But then the pressure got to him – Lieutenant was always depending on him for too much, and Flare couldn’t handle the responsibility. If he slipped up, it was a lot worse than if one of the rest of us did. I guess… the pressure is what got him in the end. Made him crazy in the end. He didn’t have any morals anymore.”

More silence. It felt uncomfortably loud – Konig’s stare seemed to make my head ring, making me fidget and bounce my knee. I wanted to snap at him. What are you looking at? Why are you asking so many fucking questions? But I was able to keep my anger at bay, justifying the situation by assuming his questions were fueled by nothing more than curiosity.

I figured I had said enough for the night, and finished off the rest of my beer. I slapped my leg, the telltale sign that I was getting ready to turn in.

Konig ignored it, or seemed to not notice. “Why did you kill him?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “Why did I? What do you mean?”

“Why kill him? Why not just… disable him for the moment, and let your commander deal with him later?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice was a second too late. “Again… in the heat of the moment, you don’t make distinctions like that. You think: ‘shoot,’ or ‘don’t shoot.’ And shooting him was the choice I made.”

Konig’s gaze became scrutinous. He knew I was lying about something… he was hellbent on figuring out what.

He’s going to have to wait a long damn time.

“Goodnight, Konig.” I said flatly. I collected my bottles, getting up from the table. With a clang, I tossed them into the bin by the exit, walking down the hall and leaving Konig sitting alone in the mess hall. I feel tears stinging my eyes, but that’s all they did. It’s all just water under the bridge, y/n. Get it together. You’re alright.

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Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix

#konig x reader #konig x reader smut #konig cod #konig smut #call of duty #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #ghost cod #cod #konig #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader

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hazbinpage · 11 months ago

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Lucifer x Reader HCs

(In which your relationship is romantic and you both live in the hotel.)

WC is 1741

(A/N: I love Lucifer so much. What a man. That being said, he's probably really OOC in this: we've only seen his character in a select few situations, none of which demonstrate how he treats his romantic partner or bonds with people he doesn't know, and I haven't read enough fics about him to decide what I like. Additionally, I'm not the best at writing romance at this point, so hopefully nothing is too off lol! With the disclaimers out of the way, please enjoy and lmk what you think! :))

-He isn't very fond of sinners, and while his perspective on them has changed since joining the hotel, his opinion certainly hasn't flipped 180 degrees. How could it have? Good deeds never made the news in Hell, and the dead he was forced to interact with were powerful. Powerful sinners were never innocent; no one becomes an overlord by accident. Centuries upon centuries of talking to the powerful, witnessing only violence and hatred, will not be undone by a single moment of comradery in war — a battle where he couldn't know if the sinners were acting solely in their own self-interest.

-This is why, when you first arrive at the hotel, he's fairly aloof. He'll be polite, of course; he has no reason not to be (especially while lowkey still trying to win over his daughter), but will hold himself distant.

-Despite this, he admits you're kinda cute....

-You don't see him often, which doesn't help with his distance — he isn't used to being around so many people, and while he's pretty charismatic and extroverted, he's also still depressed and has a habit of self-isolating when he's going through it (which is often). He only really comes out for his daughter's sake.

-To get to know him faster than his changing perspective and mental challenges would otherwise allow, you could: one, approach him directly! Be friendly, open, and interested in his hobbies. This only works if you do the same for the others, though. If you don't, he might see your advances as manipulation. Two, you could develop a relationship with Charlie. Support her, believe in her cause, and have her back. He'll see you helping his daughter and will want to understand you further. Three, you could talk about ducks. That'll get him. He'll approach you eventually and strike up a conversation.

-If you don't do any of these things, that's fine; he'll just get to know you at the same pace that he gets to know the others. He'll slowly open up to the idea that not all sinners are violent psychopaths, become more comfortable with the rest of the crew, and realize how well he connects with you over a period of several months.

- Lucifer catches feelings pretty fast once you start hanging out for real. He's enamored with you: not only are you cute as fuck, but his daughter loves you, and you're the nicest sinner he's ever met (while kindest of the damned is not a hard-earned title, it's one he appreciates nonetheless).

-Once he realizes he's caught feelings, he'll ask Charlie for permission to ask you out. He doesn't want to pursue you if she isn't comfortable with it; she's already got familial issues, and he doesn't want a sudden shift in the family dynamic to hurt her further. If she says yes (which, if she likes you, she probably will), he'll ask you out to dinner.

-Prepare for the first date to be really awkward. Even if you've known him for a while at this point, he's incredibly nervous — he hasn't done anything romantic in a good while, and the last time he tried a relationship, it didn't work out. The whole time, he's fumbling over his words and cringing at himself, saying things he doesn't mean to while trying to be suave. When he escorts you back home after a very bumpy evening, he'll be downtrodden. He messed things up, just as he knew he would, and now you probably hate him; thoughts of self-loathing and regret swirl in his mind until you say you'll pay him back next time (he blinks up at you owlishly. "Next time? Like...another date?" You confirm his thoughts. "Oh--- oh! Yes, absolutely! I mean, no, no need to pay me back; of course not, but next time sounds good! How does this Saturday at 3 sound?").

-A couple of dates in, and he's feeling more confident, which reflects in his now far more self-assured demeanor and smooth language. He's a silver-tongued devil, after all, and he has to live up to his name.

-If all goes well, after about a month, he realizes he wants you to be his partner. He, once again, gets Charlie's permission and brainstorms with some of your friends about how to pop the question. Initially, he wants to impress you, pulling out the big guns and whisking you off your feet on the balcony of a lavish black-tie restaurant rented for just the two of you. After some discussion among your peers and deliberation of his own, though, he decides to do something else. He invites you to his tower, where he's prepared a handmade dinner with candles and soft music in the background. The food isn't particularly good (he can't cook very well and enlisted Vaggie and Nifty's help to make his dish edible), and the smoke from the candles stopped being pleasant about a half an hour in, but regardless, you both have a wonderful time, laughing about his lack of culinary skills and the excessively warm room. He asks if you would like to be his lover at the end of the evening, nervous but somehow also self-assured, and is overjoyed when you say yes. The next day, he parades you around the hotel, bragging that you said yes and talking about you to anyone who'd listen.

-If he wasn't big on physical affection before he got so lonely, he is now. While his hands might not constantly be on you, they've come close to that, especially if he's going through a hard time. Expect lots of hand-holding, arm-looping, cuddling, and kissing. He likes resting his head on yours (or your shoulder, depending on how tall you are) while he wraps his arms around you (or the reverse — he loves being cradled), you both sitting together on the couch. He also has a habit of rubbing his thumb in circles over the back of your hand while holding it.

-Smother his face with kisses, his cartoony heart-eyes expression will look a tenth lovestruck as he feels.

-You receive frequent duck memes, duck-themed gifts, and duck dissertations. He doesn't go around parading his interest, but if he trusts you, he can't keep himself from wanting to share everything about his hyperfixation. He's concerned about being annoying, though, and while you could try to curb his insecurity by telling him he's not, the best reassurance is to match his energy: talk about your own obsessions and be just as weird about them as he is. Not only does he feel better about himself, but he gets to talk with you for extended periods of time, your eyes alight and grin large. He'll probably try to get into whatever you talk about, wanting to connect with you further.

-He likes giving you gifts in general. Especially those that show you're in a relationship with him, like wearable apple or goat paraphernalia. While he does enjoy gift-giving for its own sake, he's insecure and doesn't want anyone to think they can cross him by taking you. If you give him anything duck-themed, handmade, or (heavens help him) both, especially without reason? He will melt. He loves it; he can feel the thought and effort you put in for him and feels known and loved.

- He’s kinda clingy; he likes being around you as often as possible and gets nervous if you're gone too long; if you leave for more than a day, he's like a koala when you return. It's comforting to him to know where you are, but it’s even more comforting when you tell him how much you love him before you go. His self-esteem isn't at a record low, but it certainly isn't high, and he has huge abandonment issues. Every once in a while, because of this, he'll grow distant; his thoughts of being undeserving or theories about how you're going to leave him become too much, and he semi-subconsciously pulls away to protect himself. Be patient with him during these times; show him how much you care and how you would never leave. Tell him you love him as he is. The first time you say so, he'll cry in your arms and snuggle you for hours.

-He'll become less clingy and insecure as your relationship goes on, but will always rather be with you than alone.

- He's majorly protective. He knows what it's like in Hell, and he knows that by dating you, he's put a target on your back, which only adds to your lack of safety. He will pull all the strings he has in order to keep you safe, whether that means accompanying you when you're out and about, actively keeping you away from overlords, or tracking your phone without your knowledge. He feels bad about some of his less savory means of protection, but not bad enough to stop. The thought of your death haunts him too much to let you be.

-Similarly, though he won't ever admit it, your redemption keeps him up at night. If you're redeemed and go up to heaven, he can't see you anymore — maybe ever. He knows you want to better yourself and tries his best to support you in your improvement, but sometimes his fear gets to be too much. In those moments, he has to spend some time alone before he tries to sabotage your progress in any way — any more than he already has.

-It's hard to tell what his love language is because he uses all of them. He wants to spend time with you (though he will give you a break if you need one; he understands needing to be alone, even if it makes him nervous), give you gifts, be touchy, do things for you, and tell you how wonderful he thinks you are. He wants you to know just how much he cares in every way he can and will be receptive to any form of love in return.

-He doesn't use as many pet names as some of the rest of the cast would, but he does use them! He likes calling you sweetheart and angel-eyes the most.

-Overall, he has a lot of insecurities and mental health problems to work through, but tries his best to be the best partner he can be for you. It's hard work to improve himself, but if you'll have him, he'll stay by your side forever.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #my writing #my hcs #lucifer/reader #reader is a sinner

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celestie0 · 21 days ago

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ellie's beta reader application

hi friends!! i am looking for beta readers for my jjk fanfics :"0 i just reaaallyyy want to get back into writing n stuffs but have been struggling w motivation/confidence so i feel like having beta readers would make it nicer n easier aaa :'')

here are the stories that i'm looking for beta readers for, plus a little blurb about what the beta readers' role/input would be for each, but in general you’d basically be reading thru my chapter, leaving comments/notes w suggestions or reactions, and help me work out any plot-related struggles i may be having :)

please read all of the text below before sending me an ask

kickoff - looking for two beta readers

early access to drafted chapters. read through for clarity & prose. may run by some ideas by the beta readers, but for the most part i have the rest of kickoff set in stone!

in holy matriphony - looking for two beta readers

early access to drafted chapters, as well as my upcoming plans for the series. i have most of ihm set in stone as well, but may just need some help with making sure things flow well since the plot's a lil jumbled in my head!

around the clock - looking for two beta readers

early access to drafted chapters. i don't really have much planned for this series, so i would like to get some help w planning the rest of it! i anticipate 4ish parts, and i'm really just looking to have some fun w this one :)

if the world was ending - looking for two beta readers

early access to drafted chapters. i am kinda struggling with the overall plan i have for this series, as i have the first and last chapters mostly finished, but need help figuring out some of the in between

additionally, all my beta readers will have early access to any other oneshots, drabbles, mini series that i come up with down the line, and can also help me come up with additional plotlines/tropes from the ones i've brainstormed for those more independent works. there won't be any crossover for the series though, meaning that if you've been selected as a beta reader for "in holy matriphony", i won't be sharing drafted chapters/ideas for any of my other series to you

requirements to be a beta reader

must be 18+ years old

must be ok w spoilers for any of my works

must be an active reader of mine

must be proficient in english

must have a discord account

should not be a fellow fanfic author

must not share any of my drafted materials/ideas to others

how to apply

to apply, please first ensure that you satisfy the requirements listed above, and then send me an ask off of anon that answers the questions below (don't worry, i won't be publicly responding to/posting any of the asks to my feed, i just need your username so i can message you!)

i will close applications in 2-3 days!

beta reader application template

list your age:

how long have you been a reader of mine:

rank your preference of fics that you would like to beta read for (for example, kickoff > ihm > atc > itwwe):

for those who have listed "kickoff" or "in holy matriphony" as either your first or second choice, please briefly list 2-3 scenes from each series that are your favorite or were memorable to you (i just wanna make sure you're an active/engaged reader w a good understanding of the plots! the scenes can be briefly listed such as “hotel room scene” for kickoff or “kitchen kiss scene” for ihm. if both series are in your top two, please list scenes for each of them, but if neither are in your top two, then you can ignore this question):

anything else you would like me to know (optional):

please list your discord username:

and that's it! i will message you here on tumblr for further steps :) aaa i hope this is successful hahah and in general i'm really excited to more closely interact w some of you guys :'') i will make a lil discord group for us hehe. tbh getting beta reader(s) has been loooong overdue for me but i'm looking forward to it n think it will be good for me! much love <3 feel free to reach out w any questions :0

#ellie's beta reader application

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midnight-mourning · 4 days ago

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DECEMBER IS OVER!!! New Year, What's Next?

Well chat, with literally three minutes to spare we finished out DCA December IN December, and then of course you got a little bonus thingy as well hehe :)

So! Having said that, wanted to take a moment to talk about some plans, what to expect to see from me next, and so on

BUT FIRST, I would like to take the time to thank everyone who sent in requests for this little event, I appreciated every single one of them, and had SO much fun writing, I hope everyone enjoyed the little stories I wrote, couldn't have done it without everyone sending in such creative & unique ideas, thank all of you so much!

@monsteractiasluna @juukai @deviouscrackers @zenkaiankoku @buzzybee3 @fishm0ther @divinit3a @zoranight16 @cosmic-quakes @soupdweller @lizyxml @pip-plz @theinfamousmaybelle @lizyxml (again <3) @rosescarletful @crystalmagpie447 @buzzybee3 (again <3) @kaprisvn @vypridae @twomanypockets @zenkaiankoku (again <3) @juukai (again <3) @rosescarletful (again <3) @rosescarletful (again <3 <3 thank u tempest you helped feed the people fr) @twomanypockets (again <3) @pip-plz (again <3) @divinit3a (again <3) @baby-bloos @alynwrench @baby-bloos (again <3) @ccccaptain-clownyyy @luckyyyduckyyy

Additionally, thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, or commented on these fics, it's so very appreciated (I would tag everyone but there are, a startingly large amount of you 😅) I will come clean and admit that I am always a little nervous when I upload my writing, so knowing that people enjoy my work when I share it is, humbling, to say the least <3

Okay! Now to get into it, below the cut just so people dont have to scorll through my rambling plans & such (there is a POLL however that even if you skip my nonsense you should vote in pretty please ^-^)

So, despite some shortcomings with me getting a bit behind (curse you sinus infection & finals week) I'm really happy with how this went!

I'll be taking a break for a bit and def will NOT be posting as much as I did near the end there, BUT I'll still be writing per usual, especially since I have two weeks left to my break. Before I get into what you can expect to see, wanted to do a quick interest check on whether people would like me to do something similar for Valentine's!

Since I'll be back at college again I won't be able to do a full month again, buuuut, I should be able to handle 14 days worth, if the interest is there I would open up requests probably the last week of January so I had time to get started/ahead. So,

Rules would be the same as for DCA December, except with a Valentine's Theme!

Now that that's taken care of, here's what'll be going on with me as we start 2025!

I'm working on Holiday Spirit ch. 2, should be posting either today or tomorrow! Still aiming to get it done before I go back to school so expect quicker updates now that requests are finished :) (you can find out more about this story here)

Confused Spirit ch. 36 is also in the works! I'll be honest in that my sinus infection JUST cleared up a week or so ago, and additionally i've been facing a bit of writer's block with the story just bc of where we're at and I want to make sure it's really good/properly expresses what I'm going for with this fic, but I'm working on getting more out to you all soon, as well as working on getting ahead again while I have time, thank you all for your paitence with this one, it's very appreciated <3 (if you don't know about Confused Spirit, you can find out more here, it's my current main dca project :D)

DCA December will be reviewed for spelling and grammar mistakes and be uploaded to ao3 throughout January, if you'd like to read anything again (or you're wanting to get caught up and have a better reading experience) you can see the masterpost here, which will have the ao3 link once I get started on editing

Getting into non-fic things, I'll also be working on organizing my blog so things are easier to find as I know it's a bit messy currently >_< bear with me as it gets fixed up

I really want to improve on my art! After collecting things up for my 2024 art summary, i realized I've improved a lot but still have more room to grow (and many ideas that I want to see made by a more skilled hand >~<) so, expect to see some art things from me floating around including but not limited to: my trick or treat responses (im sorry these are so late, it's brutal out here), Cast of CS refs, more Holiday Spirit doodles, magma things, CS chapter promos, & new refs for the CS boys! there's some more things i have planned but I am keeping them a secret for now ;)

Okay! Think that's everything, thanks again to everyone for making this a whole lot of fun, and can't wait to share more with you all in 2025! Happy New Year!

#dca fandom #fnaf dca #dca fic #x reader #confused spirit #holiday spirit au #mm dca december #genuinely enjoyed this so much #and also have met so many cool people because of it!#so excited to share more soon #the CS/HS content coming y'alls way is #fun #i'll say that :)

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