#anyways feel free to tell me to shut the hell up

[angrywerewolfbeliever]

How I manifested getting into my dream school

*For some context, high school in my country is for fifteen to nineteen year olds*

I've always loved academics, and I've always been very smart, and because of that, I really wanted to go to this one particular, very academically challenging high school that is very difficult to get into.

For all of middle school, I kept thinking and worrying about whether or not I'd get in. I already knew about reality shifting and manifestation, and I believed it fully, but I was ridiculously misinformed, insecure, limiting, and inconsistant, so it's really no suprise that didn't get me anywhere.

Anyway, to get into this school you need to take an exam. I procrastinated studying for it, and the closer I got to the dreaded exam, the more I doubted my intelligence, manifestation as a whole, and most importantly, the likeness of me getting in.

After the exam, my anxiety worsened, especially because I didn't get into another school I applied to.

Safe to say, when the results came in, I was told I didn't get in.

Was I devastated? Yes. Did I want to rot in bed, soaking in self-pity? Also yes. Did I do that? No.

I don't think I had ever wanted anything more than to get in, so I sure as hell wasn't going to give up so easily.

I pulled myself together and said to myself, "No. I did get in. This is a mistake." This was immediately after I got the results. Of course, I still felt sad and disappointed, but I shoved those feelings down as deep as possible. For the next two weeks, I affirmed that I'm going to that school in the upcoming September, I checked what bus I'll need to take, I imagined me and my friend who did get in talking about how excited we are to be classmates, etc.

I knew that a second wave of people would get accepted in a couple of months, so my main affirmation was that I would be one of them and that I'd be first in line.

For the next two weeks, I spent all my free time, whether it was break between classes or walking my dog, affirming. Whenever I found myself thinking, "What if I don't get in?" I'd immediately tell myself to shut up, and I'd continue affirming. After a couple of days, my affirmations started popping up in my mind by themselves. After a week, I fully believed them. It didn't matter anymore that I didn't have the physical proof.

And guess what? My mom got an email from the school telling her that I got in. Keep in mind that those results weren't supposed to be out for a couple more months. I was first in line after all the others that got in and a spot opened. Not only was i first in line, but the amount of points that separated me from the last person who got in on result day was 0.05!

Now I go to that school and I couldn't be happier :)

The takeaway from this is:

1. Manifestation is incredibly simple,

2. Persist, persist, persist,

3. Circumstances don't fucking matter,

4. The 3D is your bitch and it's going to show you whatever you want it to so don't care if you're seeing the opposite,

5. Believe in yourself!!!

With love,

Venus

[furbyobsessedpup]

normalize posting absolute ass art because not all art is stereotypical pinterest worthy well colored fully rendered art

[kaiserkisser]

today is such a stark contrast to yesterday in how much i fucking hate today (vent/rant in tags bc i forgor to do it on my vent one)

[sleepymarimo]

toji x reader // sfw!

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t remember the last time he was gifted something.

“you got me what?” he asks again, kicking his sandals off at your front door for what seems like the millionth time.

you rise from your couch, the wood creaking slightly as you do so. “just some stuff for you to keep here so you stop using mine,” you reply, the shrug of your shoulders indicating how little of a deal it is.

in the kitchen, you rinse out the glass you’d been using. toji’s footsteps are barely audible over the sound of running water.

“there’s a few pairs of sweats in the hall closet,” you tell him, setting the glass down to dry. “and some other stuff in the bathroom. shampoo, body wash, toothbrush…”

the assassin lets out a small huff, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway. “you tellin’ me i reek or something?” he accuses, more so to brush off the odd feeling building in his gut.

“maybe.” comes your playful quip, your head tilting as you rest your weight on the counter and look at him. “but seriously, you just come around so often,”- his nose wrinkles at that, as he knows he crashes here much more than he should- “that i figured i’d just get you your own things. it’s not like it cost me an arm and a leg.”

with a yawn you stroll toward your room, lightly poking his chest as you pass him. “plus, you use up all of my stuff, dummy.”

he grunts, his eyes following you until you’re out of sight. “i don’t need fancy clothes or any of that crap,” he murmurs to himself, taking a few steps toward the hall closet.

his large hands wrap around the handles, sliding the doors open until he sees a pile of clothes resting on one of the shelves. three black tees stacked atop three pairs of sweats, some boxers and socks in a little box, all for him.

he picks up a shirt without hesitation, the fabric smooth against his calloused fingers. his brows furrow in concentration, maybe unease. this is for him, it’s his, and maybe that’s why this shirt is the softest one he’s ever felt.

with a gruff exhale, he snatches a pair of sweats and a clean pair of boxers, his steps unhurried as he heads for the bathroom.

the fan hums above him as the lock clicks into place, his eyes immediately darting to the shelves to see the new toiletries. his stuff.

inside the shower, toji’s shoulders sag.

it’s as if the water is washing away his defenses, the rugged, nonchalant exterior he wears now melting away in the comfort of your shower.

toji pops open one of the new shampoo bottles, taking in the scent and pouring it onto his palm. he wonders if this smell reminds you of him, if you put some thought into each item.

while he rubs it into his hair, he thinks about if he should pay you back. it’s not like he asked you to get him all this stuff, but still.

even when you’d first started letting him crash on your couch, you hadn’t demanded much in return.

“just don’t make a big mess and be decent, alright?” he remembers you saying.

and he was just fine with that. free room and board just for something so simple? he’d be a moron to decline.

it was only after around a week that he felt a familiar itch. he wouldn’t be in your debt, wouldn’t wait for the day when you’d inevitably ask for something.

so, he offered what he always did- himself. that’s what women usually wanted from him, anyway.

his idea didn’t exactly go as planned. if anything, it made him feel more conflicted, made him wonder why the hell you kept him around.

were you just lonely? did you enjoy his company?

“oh, no… i don’t do that,” you’d said, holding your hands up, flustered but adamant. “you don’t have to sell yourself to me or anything. who does that? like, what?”

the water patters on the tile floor, his body and mind feeling more clear and clean than they’ve been in a long time.

when the faucet squeaks shut, he steps out and snorts as he sees a new, fluffy black towel hanging beside yours behind the bathroom door. he grabs it, rubbing his scarred skin dry and running it through the damp strands of his hair.

the new clothes feel like heaven, truly.

in your room, engrossed by your phone, you barely hear the sound of the bathroom door opening. toji’s steps are almost silent, his arms crossing over his chest as he watches you beneath the covers.

he’s amused as you snicker at some post, the dim screen lighting up your face in the otherwise dark room.

“let me crash here, yeah?” he suggests, though it’s more of an order.

you’re startled, rightfully so, hiding your phone against your chest while you sit up straighter. “oh, you scared me! new clothes and you think you’re all that, huh? too good for the couch?”

yet, even as you chide him, you’re peeling back the covers for him, grabbing the extra pillows and moving them out of the way.

a satisfied grunt leaves him as he spreads out on the mattress, careless of the space he takes up. he tugs the blankets over his person, settling in like a big cat.

he curls into you. you don’t mind.

while you scroll along with one hand, the other supports his head and absentmindedly strokes the skin of his cheek.

his eyes watch you, his breaths becoming more steady and even. he’d never admit how much it means to him that you’d gotten him new clothes, new toiletries, practically a new home.

it’s more than he deserves, but he finds himself wanting to take as much as he can get.

he’s yours, even if he doesn’t know it. and, as the days go by, he wonders if you can be his, too.

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy finds Red Hood annoying.

Masterpost

All Danny wanted was one peaceful day. That was all. What does he get instead? A 6’ foot, jacked, vigilante crime lord. (Anti-hero, is that what he is? Danny wasn’t sure.) Now Danny’s not gonna say that a tall, built, hot as hell morally gray bad guy isn’t always unwelcome. It was just this one. (Unless, apparently, you’re Jazz. “Seriously?” “Look I don’t need saving but if he wants to come to my rescue, who am I to complain.”) They have gotten into many fights since Danny first moved to Gotham. ( He had chosen to live in a crime alley despite being able to afford slightly better. The money from his college fund was dumped entirely into said school and the money he earned went to bills and groceries.) Said screaming matches weren't even really fights; they were closer to the squabbles he’d get into with Jazz as an annoying way to express concern for each other. (A habit they, unfortunately, learned from their parents.) So having these types of arguments with said morally gray crime lord had Danny wondering if it was too late to cancel Jazz’s flight. (She boarded an hour ago.) He didn’t want them meeting, actually he’d like to keep her as far away as possible.

That’s why it was really inconvenient for these guys to kidnap him today. He had to get his sister from the airport and now he had to deal with Red Hood? Really? Other than Dickwing, Red Hood was the last person Danny wanted to see in a kidnapping situation. At least the others didn't make him feel like he was disappointing them. Only Jazz was allowed to make him feel the sting of disappointment at being reckless (and occasionally Sam and Tucker). Now, Danny thought he had decent common sense (“Shut up, Jazz.”), but he would gladly admit that he didn’t have Gotham common sense. He wasn’t afraid to go out at night just because the Riddler got out of Arkham. Honestly, he didn't see why he had to be afraid given any time of day. Danny was pretty sure he was basically immortal. (“Immortality is not dying and coming back as a full ghost.” “Then what would you call it, Jazz!?”) This seemed to frustrate Red Hood to no end as Danny lived in his part of the city and Danny was prone to finding trouble. (It actually seems to find him, Danny’s not actively going out and looking for it. He’s just trying to get on with his life.)

Anyway, yeah, Jazz was flying in for the weekend and somebody had kidnapped him. A perfectly normal Thursday. So, in perfectly normal Thursday fashion, Spoiler and Red Hood had swooped in while Danny was in the midst of a really intense staring contest with the kidnapper across from him. (“You know the staring is flattering when Tim does it but you make me feel icky.” The man didn't move and his hard stare barely wavered. “Alright, but I warn you I’m really good at this game.”) A flash of purple and the goon was no longer standing. Red Hood had come in guns blazing and made quick work of the other two kidnappers as Danny waited patiently to be untied. He could have phased through the chains he was hanging by but he didn't see a reason to. Just because they knew he could turn invisible didn’t mean they needed to know about everything else. (“That’s gaslighting, Danny.” “Technically, Sam, I think it’s lying by omission.” “Tucker.” “Right, not helping.”)

“Sooo,” Spoiler sang once Danny was free. “Who’s Tim?” You know what? Maybe it was Spoiler he should have been dreading. Red Hood made his way over, “yeah, kid, you got a boyfriend you didn’t tell us about?” Mm no, he regrets being in both their presence. Danny waved their questions away as he turned in a slow circle looking for the door. He wasn't quite sure of the time, but he was positive he was late to pick up Jazz. He answered as he made his way to the unconscious body of the guy who lost the staring contest, “a friend, well, a customer - a regular really. Nice guy, cute, has a staring problem.” Danny stooped down and started digging through the guys pockets, “do either of you know where the exit is?” Thankfully the guy was the one with his phone, he didn't want to search all the kidnappers. Turning it on, Danny saw that he was late and Jazz had already caught a taxi back to his place. The text had got increasingly more panicked the longer he hadn’t responded along with an alarming number of missed calls. 

Danny shot her a quick text as he followed Spoiler out of the building. Sorry, got kidnapped, am fine now. Please don't call. Will explain later. Love ya <3 He quickly added a selfie that Spoiler photo bombed over his shoulder holding up a peace sign. 

The screen immediately lit up with a facetime call. Danny turned it off and stuffed it in his pocket. He really didn't want Jazz meeting Red Hood.

He turned to face his “saviors.” “Okay, this has been fun. Thanks for the rescue, sorry I can’t stay and talk but I am needed elsewhere.” Throwing a quick salute he started down the street. After a block and a half he stopped at the opening of an ally. “You know I hate it when you all just stalk me from the shadows, it's very Babadook of you.” Hood appeared first behind Danny, “what's Babadook?” “A gay icon,” Spoiler drops in front of Danny. “Very true,” Danny high fives her as he hears Red Hood sigh, seeming to mutter to himself, “this is going in the folder.” “Okay,” Danny says, addressing both of them, “you don't need to walk me home.” Red Hood crossed his arms, “you’d rather your ‘Tom’ walk you?” Danny really really didn't want Jazz to meet Red Hood. Danny sighed, “His name is Tim and he’s just a friend and I’d rather nobody walked me home, I’m a fully capable adult.” “Capable huh? That’s what you call last week’s fiasco?” Last week’s fiasco being an incident that may or may not have involved a cult trying to sacrifice him. (He was insulted that they were trying to sacrifice him to a low level demon. He was the king of the infinite realms and they were using him to summon Craig? Really? Not that they knew any of this but still. Rude.) Spoiler placed her forearm on Danny’s shoulder to lean, as if he wasn't a few inches taller then her. “Not to mention tonight's kidnapping.” Danny shrugged her off. “And you two saved me,” he started slowly backing away into the alley behind him, “so, danger avoided.” Red Hood's hand shot out and grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt collar, “uh-uh, you're not pulling the disappearing act tonight.” Danny had indeed been intending to disappear and fly home, now he was being scuffed like a kitten. In hindsight he had pulled that move fairly often with Hood. Crossing his legs Danny refused to be set down on his feet so Red Hood dropped him. “Ow!”One peaceful day, was that too much? (Luckly, they didnt follow him into his building and just watched him enter. Unluckily, he had a worried and very annoyed older sister to face.) (“A selfie, Danny?! Really!?” “I wanted to assure you it was really me!”)

Part 7

[osachiyo]

✦ BAD TIMING? ✦

⟣ ──┈ · · · + including : dazai, chuuya, fukuzawa, fyodor x fem!reader

⟣ ──┈ · · · + c/w : nsfw content (mdni), teasing, petnames, degradation, rough sex, prone bone, cowgirl, mating press, nipple play, cursing, cockwarming, mentions of nikolai + non consensual vouyer in fyodor's & more

⟣ ──┈ · · · + a/n : i wrote this with my pussy.

synopsis. . . you're getting your guts rearranged when− 'riiing!' the annoying sound of his phone ringing caught you both off guard, snapping you out of your dazed state as you both paused your nightly rendezvous. what's even more surprising to you is when he reaches over to grab the tiny device, answering the call− ugh, seriously?

.001 — Dazai

You whined at feeling Dazai's hips slow down, now completely flush against your ass, as he picks up the phone. "What could kunikida-kun possibly need from me, at this hour?" He muttered to himself, voice breathy and warm against the shell of your ear. Fuck, it was kunikida?

"Hello~ ku-ni-ki-da-kuunnnnn?" Your co-worker said in an annoyingly sing-songy voice, making the man in the other end of the line grumble in frustration. They began talking about some..mission? Anyway, it had been around 20 minutes since they've started talking? You couldn't exactly tell− or cared, honestly. The only thing in your fucked out mind was for dazai to close the damn phone and just fuck you already!

You showed your frustrations by huffing and angrily kicking your legs− turning your head to look back at dazai with a glare. He only smirked in response, shrugging before turning his attention back to the call.

You had no idea that dazai was aching to move right now, the feeling of your warm cunt pulsating around him was almost too much to bear. The way sweat gathered at the dip of your back, the way you arched for him− shit.

It had been a few more moments, you were so close to whine out complaints when dazai's hips started moving again, cock easily brushing against your sweet spot. You could still hear his voice from behind you.. he− he wasn't done with the call?!

You were about to ask him what the hell he was planning now− when long, slim fingers entangled themselves in your already messy hair− shoving your head down against the mattress to shut you up as he kept his pace, voice straining a little while he contuined his "very important" conversation with your other co-worker.

Lewd "pap! pap! pap!" noises of dazai's balls hitting your ass filled the enclosed room as you tried your best not to let any moans slip out− god, if he found out− "oi dazai, what're the weird noises coming from your side?"

Fuck.

"Oh uh− nothing, nothing at all, kunikida-kun," he breathed, free hand now coiling around your waist to rub at your neglected clit− making your back arch even more as you gasped out loudly.

"What the− are you sure? You better not be scheming anything bad right now, idiot."

"Of course not! mmh− so tight−!" he whispered the last bit, large hand now cluntching the flip phone in a vice grip as he watched his cock disappear inside of your slick folds− a creamy ring forming around the base of his cock.

"Huh? what's so tight? Dazai−"

That was the last thing you heard from kunikida before dazai's poor phone was thrown somewhere on the bed, the hand coiled in your hair now dragging you up− arching your back even more for him as he muttered soft curses into your ear.

You let out a pained mewl at your hair being pulled, desperate hands scrambling to claw and tug at the sheets as your back was flush against dazai's chest. "Ah− shiit−!" your eyes rolled back as the thumb circling your tiny clit sped up, the bed creaking loudly with each thrust of dazai's narrow hips against your ass.

"Yeah? you gonna cum, 'donna?" Dazai mocked, breath hot against your neck as he moaned lewdly at the way your pussy gushed around him− spraying the sheets with clear fluid. Dazai only groaned in response, "oh shit, fuuuck!− g'nna cum inside you, yeah? y' wan' that?" He slurred, you didn't get to answer before blunt nails meanly dug into your hips as he stilled− balls tightening as spurts of white filled your cunt before he fell on top of you.

You two laid there for a few moments, his cock slowly softening inside you− chest heaving as he finally got off, hissing from the loss of warmth. Dazai pressed a gentle kiss on your temple before walking off, most likely to grab a wet rag to clean you up. You got up with a sigh, running a hand through your messy hair when your eyes land on dazai's phone− it wasn't too far away from you.

You crawled closer to it, taking it in your hands when it lit up− "call ended now."

.002 — Chuuya

You were happily bouncing on your boyfriend's dick when the annoying ringtone of his phone went off. He sighed, lifting his head from the sofa as he reached over to grab the device, brows furrowing at the contact name.

You were sitting idly on his lap now, still impaled on his cock. "Who is it?" You panted, out of breath as you tried not to clench around the ginger's fat dick.

"It's.. boss. be quiet f'me, okay doll?" His voice was soft, but you know he meant it as a command.

You nodded innocently, urging him to answer the phone call. and he did, the way he immediately put on a professional voice sort of baffled you but hey, he was a mafia executive.

But the moment he put the phone next to his ear, you clenched around him tight— making him almost double over with a gasp as he gripped your hip for stability.

"Argh!— I mean- y-yes, boss!" He stuttered, face flushing as he grit his teeth, glaring at you as his fingertips dug into your plush hip, veins appearing at his temple as he mouthed to you to "behave."

Like hell you'd listen and torture yourself by cockwarming him. You only grinned mischievously before lifting your hips up and slamming down on his cock, his eyes shutting tightly as he tried his best not to moan out— he couldn't. Especially not with Mori on the line.

You kept pleasuring yourself on his cock without a care, even going as far as putting a show for him— your hands reaching to play with your tits as you softly moaned out his name, reaching to grab his hand but he only smacked it away, cock dripping with need as he tried his best to keep things professional.

"Chuuya-kun, everything alright on your side? I keep hearing these..noises."

The man in question knew he was fucked— he knew Mori already figured everything out, "uh— y-yeah, boss. I'm fine— fuck—!" Panting out the last part, Chuuya gripped his phone so tight that you worried it would shatter.

"Uh-huh.. Anyway, you had better call me back once you're finished with your.... current predicament. Have fun."

And with that, the Port Mafia boss ended the call, making Chuuya groan in annoyance before chucking the small device somewhere— "what the hell was that?" He growled, hand coming up to wrap around your throat as he forced you to stop your movements, cock nestled deep inside of you once again as your hips stilled. You whined from the loss of friction, the sound only making your lover's right eye twitch in annoyance— "such a poor, needy slut, ain't ya?" He held you down firmly before thrusting up, fat cock nudging against your sweet spot as you threw your head back.

"Ooh, f-fuck— my slutty fuckin' girl can't even stand a few minutes without cock, huh?" He stuttered, other hand reaching up to land a gentle but firm slap on your face. It didn't sting much, but was enough to move your head to the other side. You only whimpered in response, clenching around him even more as his thrusts sped up— growls and groans of pleasure escaping his own lips as he suddenly parted your lips with his thumb before shoving two gloved fingers down your throat— your eyes stinging with tears as the digits hit the back of your throat, tits bouncing up and down as he practically manhandled you like a ragdoll— settling you on your hands and knees without even pulling out fully.

"Argh- fuck—!" He moaned, burying his face into the dip of your shoulder, landing soft kisses on the smooth skin. "Ch-chuuya— s'good, feels s'good—" you slurred, eyes rolling back as one hand found your breasts— the soft flesh jiggling with each brutal thrust of his hips as he basically slapped them around, harshly pinching your nipple as his other hand found your clit— rubbing quick and fast circles on the delicate bud— making you clamp around his cock once more before gushing all over his cock and the expensive leather couch. Your juices ran down his balls to his thighs— the force of your orgasm making you limp against him. You'd probably fall face first onto the couch if not for Chuuya's vice grip on you. Whimpers and borderline pornographic moans left his swollen lips— before biting down hard on your shoulder, spurts of cum flooding your insides as you laid flaccid in his hold— a drooling, shivering mess.

Chuuya fell on top of you, the both of you laying in each other's warmth when—

"Riiiing!"

.003 — Fukuzawa

A pout graced your pretty lips when your husband reached for his phone— picking the tiny device up as he drew soothing circles on your hip, motioning for you to be quiet.

You tried your best to be quiet as he took the phone call, you really did! But the way his cock was nestled so deep inside you and the way you could practically feel him throb inside of your gooey walls— you really didn't wanna bother him or interrupt his phone call but... you couldn't help but whine softly, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit, clenching down on the older man's impossibly hard cock. Fukuzawa's eyes widened when his eyes finally focused on you, underneath him— little pants and huffs of his name rolling off your tongue as you played with yourself. Your other hand was playing with your nipples, softly tugging on them as you bit your bottom lip— which was already swollen. Your eyes were glossed over, hips dying to move on their own.

His jaw was clenched— free hand coming down to lift your legs and put them on his shoulder before he started thrusting inside of you with more vigour than before. It was like he was in a trance— the way your pussy fluttered around his pulsating cock, and the way his tip kissed your cervix with each thrust had you both panting. Your head spun with pleasure as he reaches down to press at your tummy— feeling his bulge. Fuck, he was huge.

The phonecall still went on, of course— but you know all Fukuzawa could think about was you, and the way your pretty cunt swallowed his cock. The noises leaving his mouth told you exactly what you needed to know— the slight stutter in his voice, usually gentle tone now gruff and slightly higher in pitch as he tried his best not to blow his load right then and there.

Not like you were any better either— hair disheveled, sweat dripping off your body as tears stinged at your eyes from the sheer size of this man— it didn't take long for you to cream and gush all over his cock— some of it even spraying on his abdomen. He saw the way your glossy eyes rolled back, your jaw slacked open as your high hit you like a truck.

To hell with the phonecall — he thought.

He cut off whoever was on the other line with a quick but curt, "I'm a little busy— I'll call you later", not even letting the other person respond before ending the call and placing the phone away— all his attention back was on you.

"Putting on a show f'me, sweet girl?" He grunted, dragging his hips back before slamming them against yours— "mmh! K-Knew it'd work— fuck!" You moaned, now feeling both of his hands pushing your legs back, knees almost touching your ears as he forced you into a mean mating press. You felt your high coming closer again— balls slapping against your ass, cock bullying that spongey spot inside of your gummy walls as he groaned sweet nothings into your neck— gruff voice drowned out by his own growls.

You could only babble nonsense and his name as you came hard for the second time that night— pussy clenching around his length and he could feel something snap inside of him— hips speeding up to an inhuman pace, losing their rhythm as he bottomed out fully. Balls pressed against your ass while he spurted out so much cum— some of it ran down your ass and on to the sheets as he slowly got up, pulling out of your cunt with a hiss and watching his cum gushing out of your cunt in spurts.

.004 — Fyodor

You were finally bouncing on Fyodor's cock after hours of teasing and cockwarming— your hips and thighs burned but it didn't matter to you at the moment, because you can finally reach that release that Fyodor has been dangling in front of you— or at least you thought.

Your heart dropped to your stomach once the ringing of his phone echoed through the room— an annoyed sigh leaving Fyodor's lips as he gently slapped your thigh, a silent order for you to stop and stay still.

"A noise and you're getting punished," Fyodor's voice was smooth, but the threat made you gulp, "o-okay," you nodded, accidentally clenching down on him from nervousness and he hissed— blunt fingernails digging into your soft hips. He let out a shaky breath before picking up the phone, it was sort of unsettling how his voice switched from breathy to normal in a second.

You didn't know the phonecall would last so damn long.

It had been almost 30 whole minutes since he had picked up the goddamned phone— and this was pure torture to you. The occasional twitch of his cock inside you made your head spin, oh and the way he'd glare at you when you clenched down particularly hard— it did nothing else but make you even wetter. He, on the otherhand, was completely fine— not a hair out of place as he spoke so casually about.. something. The only time he'd react is when your pussy contracted around him— which would only get a hiss, or hitched breath from the man. It pissed you off.

It was too much for you— your juices running down his cock and onto the leather chair, god - you were leaking so much.

Fortunately for you, he was done with the call soon enough— quickly placing the phone on the desk before whispering into your shoulder as he placed gentle kisses on your skin, "go ahead, myshka - move." His voice was soft, as if he was proud of you for obeying his order and being a good girl— fingers that were previously digging into your flesh now reached between your bodies to rub and flick at your clit, while you happily bounced on his dick. He may have been quiet as a mouse during the phonecall— but he couldn't help but let out soft grunts and pants as you expertly milked his cock, dry lips even letting out one or two whines as you kissed his neck, down to his collarbones— pale skin now adorning a heavy flush as your thighs smacked against his own.

Lewd squelches and noises of skin smacking against skin filled the dark room of his office— Fyodor's jaw clenching as he feels your walls - so soft and warm, squeezing his cock as if you were trying to milk him. He was going to cum soon— but he couldn't possibly finish before his darling, could he? Lithe and slim fingers sped up their movements on your clit as he bit on your shoulder— free hand pinching and pulling at your hardened nipples as you gasped, your own pace turning sloppy and uncoordinated as you clenched your eyes shut— cumming all over his cock as he held your hips down firmly, shooting ribbons of white inside of your walls, some of it dribbling down his balls to the leather of his seat.

You both were left panting, shivering as Fyodor drew random shapes into your shoulder— trying to come down from his own high. He pulled you closer after you both calmed down, your head resting on his chest as he placed soft kisses on the crown of your head, whispering how good you've been for him.

If only you knew the man also coming down from his high on the other end of the video call— white hair disheveled as he came all over his screen.

©sachiyoh — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

note. ik i said i'd add jouno but I lost motivation for this thing :( jouno will be added to another work, so sorry jouno lovers </3

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorahatsumi @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @hannzai @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch @chuuya-brainrot

[angelsheartts]

✩‧₊˚ I HOPE NOBODY CATCH US !! .

(but i kinda hope they catch us, anyway)

#pairing : lucifer, adam, alastor, vox x gn reader

#cw: suggestive content, +18 mdni, cuss words lmao, getting caught in suggestive situations ig?? tentacles on alastors part my bad, vox likes to get caught.

#notes: guys please feel free to ask requests, i’m getting out of ideas and i don't know what you all wanna read on my blog help.

PART ll

˖ ˚ ༘✶ LUCIFER .

you both were having a pretty steamy make-out session in your hotel room at the hazbin hotel, clearly not the best idea since everyone was still at the hotel, and HELL does lucifer gets loud.

"ah-, my love, " he whines loudly, pressing his forked tongue deep inside you. feeling him humping against your bedsheets as you wrap your legs around his neck, you knew he was close. "lucifer, you make me feel so gooood~" you moaned, grabbing his horns as you felt like your orgasm was soon to come.

well, nobody warned you how SENSITIVE this man was when someone touched his horns; his wings literally popped out in a second. "fuck, fuck, i’m so close (name); can i cum, honey ? please i-"

a door opened, making lucifer wrap his wings around you both. "(name), i heard some noises. is everything alri-" well, this was akward. "IMSOSORRYISHOULDHAVEKNOCKED" she said, embarrased, closing the door, leaving you and lucifer with a flushed red since you both literally got caught, by HIS daughter WHILE having an orgasm.

after that 'accident' charlie started knocking every time she entered your dorm, and apologised to you many times.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ ADAM .

adam can be very tiring sometimes when keeping his hands to himself, he would literally fuck you anywhere so everyone could see who makes you feel so fucking good if you would just let him, but of course you wouldn’t allow something like that.

except for today, you and adam had a meeting with the other angels so you wouldn’t have guessed that your husband had already been planning on how to convince you to do not-so-holy-things to skip the meeting.

until, you started noticing how touchy he was getting with you, at the beginning it was a playfully kiss on your neck then a slap in you ass and somehow you ended up giving him a blowjob.

"you’re so hot when you shut the fuck up" he said, smirking while gripping your hair tightly to make you go deeper. "fucking bitch, sucking it while having you on your knees, as you fucking should 'cause im the original dick, babe!" letting him talk to you like that reeallyy turned him on, just the thought of you being so obedient to him makes him want to cum.

"what the fuck" a voice made you both turn, noticing a lute with a very disgusted look in her face cursing at you both for being so reckless.

sadly this wasn’t the first time lute walked in on you both, so she just left LMAO.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ ALASTOR .

alastor tries to have the least amount of physical contact during such activities, so it wasn’t a rare occasion for you to finger yourself, while listening to his voice telling you what to do.

you didn’t really know if it was because you were bored, or you were just horny, but you had the urge to have some intimacy with alastor. he didn’t mind because it had been a long time since you both had some intimacy.

"you have been such a good partner, my dear” he praised, smirking widely like he always did. "I think it would only be fair if i give you something in return."

well, that was 15 minutes ago, and now here you were feeling his tentacles thrusting into you so roughly. alastor would only chuckle at your expressions while ocassionaly telling you to touch yourself as he wanted. seeing you trying to get some release made his bulge twitch inside his pants.

well, at least it made it twitch until someone interrupted you both, making your partner disappear the tentacles who were just inside you a few seconds ago.

angel dust was the one who accidentaly walked in on you both, and alastor told him if he ever talked or made jokes about what happened he would transmite his screams on his radio broadcoast. angel dust still teases you though.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ VOX .

vox actually wants you both to get caught, like he really has no shame at all. he loves fucking you if it means that you both might get caught in the act.

sadly, you can’t even recall how you ended up with him having you bend over his desk right before a meeting with the VEES.

surely, you both could have stopped if you wanted, but why would you even consider that when he’s literally vibrating just in the right spot, making you fuzzy from the overstimulation.

"fuck, yeah" your boyfriend's voice is shaky as he keeps thrusting in you, seeing how his cum rolls down your thighs, makes him increase his pace. "you really want us to get caught, don’t you, babe? squeezing me around as if i would even think about fucking pulling it out" he says chuckling with a slight glitch on his voice. "ah- vox, it’s too much i-" vox slapped your ass, making you yelp from pleasure as you were feeling so overwhelmed.

both of you being so close to your orgasm, didn’t noticed when velvette and valentino entered the room until velvette shouted at you both for fucking like animals, and not waiting until being in a more private place, alongside her was just a valentino smirking, while being dragged by velvette. valentino would have been glad to accept the offer if you would have invited him though.

[rinhaler]

step brother sukuna forcefully taking his stepsister's virginity <3 (with size difference)

sukuna has got me in the biggest chokehold and this weeks dub has not helped in the least long live ray chase

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, noncon, stepcest, creampie, use of 'good girl', virginity loss, vaginal sex, hair pulling, degradation, spanking, noncon photography.

words: 1.3k

“S-Sukuna?” you wake up, eyes fuzzy and the darkness not helping matters as you try and make out the shape of your step-brother in your doorway. He could be anyone, really, but the size of his silhouette gives him away. You roll over to check the time on your phone, grunting with displeasure when you see it’s only 3am.

He comes inside, stealthily, and he reeks of alcohol. You can smell him from your bed. And you feel blinded when he turns on the light, your retinas blown to hell as you try and adjust to the brightness.

You yelp as he sits on the mattress, and you sit up quickly.

“You’re a good girl,” he tells you, voice slurring slightly as he speaks. “Staying home tonight, good… good girl.”

You aren’t sure what to say, though you begin to worry he might vomit on your carpet. You hasten out of bed to grab the bin in the corner of your room, placing it between his legs. And he laughs at that, it’s just so… you.

“Some… whore… I don’t remember her name,” he sniffs, looking down at the bin before his red eyes hone in on you. “She was all over me tonight. But I pushed her away. Y’know why?”

“W-Why…” you ask, cautiously, your inner monologue telling you this is leading somewhere bad. You want to run, but you feel like your legs at being weighed down to your mattress.

“I thought, why fuck her? I don’t care about her. She’s easy. But you,” he continues. He kicks the bin away and he climbs onto your bed, crawling closer to you on all fours like a predator cornering it’s. prey. You try to escape, still weighed down with fear. But you could only get so far anyway. Your back meets with the headboard, and you know you’re trapped. “My sweet little sister. Are you sweet? Maybe you’re a whore like her.”

“Sukuna, p-please, I’ve never… I’ve never—”

“You’re real sweet.” he grins, pulling you against him until your noses touch. “Should have known you were a virgin. I hear you when you touch yourself sometimes, you never last long. You’ll prob’ly cum on my cock the minute I put it in.” he sneers, and in your panic he manages to flip you onto your stomach with ease.

“N-No, please, I don’t— you’re my b-brother!” you object, body freezing and turning limp as you realise you’re powerless to his advances. He doesn’t bother undressing you, he just pins your wrists above your head with one large palm. “S-Sukuna?”

“I’m your big brother, and I should be the first person to feel your cunt wrapped around my cock.” he answers you, unzipping his trousers and freeing his cock just enough to use against you. He moves your pyjama shorts into the crease of your thigh, and he can’t help but ogle your sopping flesh. “You’re wet, little girl. And no panties. You knew I was coming, didn’t you? Did all of this for me… how thoughtful.”

You cry, silently, as you realise there’s nothing you can say to stop this. He drags his thick cockhead up and down your folds before he practically stabs it into your entrance. You scream, but he yanks your hair and forces your face down into the pillows to silence you.

“Shut the fuck up.” he tells you. “You want this, I know you do.” he lies, though you don’t know if it’s for your benefit or his own. Each drag and rut into your heat is torture. It’s slow, tormenting, until he finds a steady rhythm against your resisting walls.

“Ah, ah!” you moan, your voice finally free as he gives you the chance to breathe. He snarls as he hears you, moaning like a slut as he defiles your virgin interior.

“Knew you’d like it, slut.” he laughs, picking up the pace as your needy whining encourages him. He lets your hands go, knowing you’ve given up on fighting him. His hands knead into the flesh of your ass, spanking you on occasion and forcing you to jolt back against him. He pulls your hair until your back is curved into an almost agonising arch.

“S-Sukuna! H-Hurts! Hurts s’much!”

“Is that why you’re moaning like a bitch in heat for me, hah?” he chides, spanking your ass as he continues bullying his cock into you. “Ya getting tighter around me, sister. Naughty girl…” he spanks you again and you can’t help but preen for him. You fucking hate yourself and you hate him for doing this to you.

You just can’t deny how good it feels.

“Y-You’ve always been so good,” he pants, stuttering slightly as he feels himself teetering on the edge of release. He grabs a fistful of your ass again and you can already feel how red and bruised it’s becoming. And you yelp as he inflicts a particular agonising spank onto your rear. “Tell me you love me.” he groans in your ear.

“I- I love you,” you don’t even hesitate, because you do. He’s your big brother, after all. How could you not love him, even in spite of this? “So good t’me, Sukuna, always s-so good.”

His eyes roll over white as he hears your words, it took all of his self-control to not cum in that instant. “Aren’t you p-recious,” he struggles, both of his hands dig into the fat of your hips, now. Your body collapsing forwards as he makes no effort to help you keep upright. It still hurts, but it’s an agony you’re willing to withstand for him. “Gonna be the first person to cum in this virgin cunt,” he grins, he wraps his arms around your waist as if he’s hugging you. Though you come to realise he’s just preventing any escape attempts you might make.

“No! Sukuna, n-no! You can’t.”

“Yeah, I can. ‘n you’re gonna let me because you’re a good girl,” he tells you, whispering directly into your ear as he feels his balls begin to tighten. “Only big brother’s get to cum here, got it? This little pussy was made for my cum.”

“N-N— ah! Hnng, fu-uck! Fuck!“ you moan, and Sukuna has lost any interest in forcing you to keep quiet. The damage is done, now. Even if your parents find out, it’s not like they can undo his handiwork, gifting his little sister with a pretty creampie.

He fucks into you until he blows his load. Your walls fill with white and you shudder from the contrast of your freezing body being stuffed full of his creamy white cum. He fucks it into you, deeply. And you don’t have the energy to object.

When he’s through, he pushes you off his length and you melt into a puddle on the mattress below. You feel your knee being forcibly bent in a bid to spread your legs open. Your pussy lips open deliciously and his sperm drips from your hole and down your little slit.

“Don’t move.” he tells you.

You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

He pulls his phone from his back pocket, taking a series of photos of your lifeless form and drippy cunt. He smirks as he sifts through them all.

He’s sure he’ll find one that will make the perfect screensaver.

© 2023 rinhaler

[beneathashadytree]

EATEN ALIVE - SYLUS QIN X READER

Warnings : biting, Sylus likes feeling his lover’s weight, neck kisses, BDSM mention, implied scent kink, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : spicy fluff <3

Word count : 0.9K words

Additional notes : This brainrot is a result of that one homescreen interaction where you give him his palm and he bites you, and that one bond story where he’s sitting on the couch reading at some point. The image drove me a lil crazy😵‍💫 Also this was inspired by the song Eaten Alive by Diana Ross 🙏🏽

Tip jar!

Masterlist

“Another book on firearms?” they asked, leaning over him to get a glance at what he was reading.

Sylus didn’t look up from the page, glasses perched on his nose and legs crossed underneath his silk robe in the picture perfect image of regal serenity. The only acknowledgment he gave them was a hum, before simply saying, “Not this time,” and returning to his quiet laser-focus.

Annoyance flashed behind their eyes at his complete ignoring of their presence in front of him. And to make matters worse (or in this case, simply more irritating), from their position they couldn’t even read a single sentence upside down. “Aren’t you gonna tell me, then?”

At that, a smirk touched his lips, knowing that he got the desired reaction from them. “You do know that curiosity killed the cat, right?” The look in his eyes was every bit as fierce as it was taunting. “You seem hell-bent on using up all your nine lives.”

Bastard. He loved to tease them relentlessly, didn’t he?

Snapping the book shut with one hand, he pushed it aside face-down. He was taking all the possible measures to make sure they wouldn’t be able to read the title, it seemed. Would a kick to his shins procure the answer they wanted?

Before they could think of another tactic, he clasped their hand in his, unceremoniously tugging them down onto his lap. Yelping as he caught them off-guard, they barely managed to balance themself over him, hovering a little as they tried not to crush him—something he must’ve noticed, given the way he arched his eyebrow at them.

“Put your whole weight on me. I like that.” Sylus’ grin was wicked as he said that, but it was all parts tempting, luring them in like it always did. Maybe it was a figment of their imagination, but they could’ve sworn that they saw his eyes gleam brighter as they settled down properly in his lap. “That’s it, sweetie,” he purred, his hands quick to seek purchase in the fat of their hips.

His touch leaving a burning ache in its wake, he gently caressed every inch of skin he could reach. The hem of their top raised, nimble fingers dancing over their back and trailing over paths he’d long-memorized, he looked like he was truly enjoying the way their breath hitched in their throat, and how they squirmed against him.

“You’re too much,” they managed to huff out, trying their best to school their expression to one of indignation. “Weren’t you… just acting like I was distracting you?”

“A welcome distraction, if anything.” His free hand came up to remove his glasses, a mischievous look in his eyes. “If you hadn’t come for me, I would’ve gone looking for you in a bit anyways.” As though swearing his honesty, he pulled them closer and began pressing open-mouthed kisses against their neck, softly sucking at the warm skin. With every nip of his teeth, he earned a hiss of pain-pleasure, and a jolt of their hips bringing them closer to his. “You taste divine,” he groaned into their neck. “Smell so good too.”

“Hey.” It was supposed to sound admonishing, but it came out as a half-moan, half-whisper. “Stop trying to keep me off-track.” But were their words convincing, when they were writhing in his lap just at his kisses like that? “You’re… hah… avoiding me.”

“‘M not.”

Another kiss, this time at the junction of their jaw and neck, earning a small cry of his name, and that snapped them out of whatever daze they’d been trapped in. With a push to his chest, they managed to pry him off and cover his sinful mouth with their hand, though it seemed that it only spurred on the desire brewing in his scarlet eyes.

“Answer my question.” Panting and their head swimming, it was a wonder they were able to say anything coherent at all. “What were you reading and so hell-bent on hiding?”

As Sylus chuckled into their palm, he merely reached out a finger to drag the book in, quickly flipping it back up.

‘Screw the Roses, Send Me Thorns.’

Oh.

Pure delight danced in his eyes as he relished in their expression as realization dawned on them. Taking advantage of that split-second of their shock, he caught their hand in his, and bit into it—lightly, but just enough to sting in that way he knew deep down they liked so much.

Jumping, they were quick to snatch their hand away from his mouth, cheeks burning with warmth. Before they could even think of snapping at him, he’d licked his lips, as though savoring the taste of them that lingered.

It was all too hot, all at once and in all the most dangerous places of their body.

“I didn’t want to scare you off,” he coolly said, leaning back against the back of the leather couch and eying them with a practiced sultry-sweet gaze.

A promise lingered there; a promise of a forbidden fruit dangling right before their eyes and practically begging to be stolen and feasted on. Their hands itched to take him for themself, but would they do that without being devoured first? A chilling thought, and yet… the warmth in their core seemed to anticipate the moment either of them would snap and give in wholly.

Sylus quietly laughed at their heavy silence and glazed over eyes. At that moment they knew, that they’d fully played right into his hands where he’d wanted them. “But… judging from your reaction, I guess my worries were all in vain, hmm?”

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[smartichokes]

.

[rogueddie]

There are a lot of rumors about Eddie Munson. From his sexuality, to his religion, to him being some sort of supernatural creature.

Steve doesn’t put a lot of merit in most of them. They’re usually just bullshit people make up to entertain themselves with whilst beating down on the weird kid. Steve thinks it’s boring… usually.

He’s seen enough weird things happen around Munson to know that something isn’t right. Something about him is unnatural. And Steve is staying clear out of the way of whatever the hell he is, or whatever the hell he’s messing with.

Unfortunately, his friends haven’t gotten the message.

“Do it at your own house!” Steve complains, though he makes no move to stop them. He’s sure it’s nothing, that it’ll only lead to an annoying clean-up job, but there’s a nagging sense of dread writhing in his gut. “This shit is bull anyway.”

“If it’s bull then what’s the problem?” Tommy counters.

“Because none of you dickheads are going to help clean this shit up!”

“I promise to help you clean up,” Carol says. “There. Problem solved. Right?”

"It's still stupid," Steve mutters, glaring at the janky make-shift pentagram they've made. "And a bad idea."

It's drawn on nine pieces of paper- they wanted to draw it big on the floor, but Steve had but his foot down. He lets them use some of his moms candles as a compromise.

With the lights off, sitting with the two of them in a circle, it suddenly feels too real. Even Carol looks suddenly nervous.

Tommy is the only one still smirking, though Steve is sure that it's forced. His voice shakes a little as he begins reading off the paper he'd torn out a library book. His Latin is clunky.

At first, nothing happens.

Long enough that Carol says, "did you even say it right?"

"Yes, it even has-" Tommy starts.

The candles all blow out, suddenly. The light Steve had left on in the kitchen flicks off too, plunging them into complete darkness.

After a horrible moment, where they're still and silent, Carol yelps.

"Don't grab me, Tommy, that's not funny!"

"I didn't grab you."

"Wh- Steve?"

"No," is all Steve can get out.

"I'm turning the lights on," Tommy says. "This is ridiculous."

Steve listens to his footsteps and, when he sounds like he's almost at the light switch, he yelps.

"Fuck this," he says.

"What the fuck, Tommy!" Carol yells when they both hear him running past them. She's up on her feet immediately, chasing after him.

He wants to scream after them, plead with them to come back, that they shouldn't be abandoning the circle.

But, the same gut instinct that insists he stay where he is, keeps his mouth shut. Everything in his being is telling him that if he leaves, if he speaks first, horrible things will happen to him.

Something tuts, like a parent admonishing a child.

The living room light flicks on, so bright that Steve has to blink a few times to clear away the white spots.

Eddie Munson sits in the space they left empty.

"Someone didn't read the terms and conditions," he snickers.

"What..." Steve pauses, clearing his throat. "What are the, uh... terms and conditions?"

"Oh, they're simple, really. Look," he holds up the page Tommy had read the incantations from, pointing to the little paragraph at the end. "They even translated it to English! But all you need to know, big boy, is that you are A-OK."

"And... Tommy and Carol?"

"Eh, they're fine. Lucky, really. I'm trying to relax up here. I'm only gonna pay them back with a minor curse or two. Nothing lethal."

"Fuck."

"We haven't even got to you yet!" He spins around so hes laying on his belly, resting his chin on his palm. "You didn't technically summon me so you can just tell me to leave... or."

"Or?"

"Deal with no consequence, baby. One wish, whatever you want, free of charge. Well... I'd want your silence about the whole... summoning thing. Let's consider that payment."

He doesn't need his gut or book to warn him that it's a bad idea. Munson could be lying, easily. There could be fine print. It's a bad, very bad idea.

"There's... definitely no consequences? I won't, like, go to hell for this?" Steve finally asks.

"Do some charity work for a week, you'll be fine," he says, waving his hand around. "What do you want, King Steve?"

"Could- could you make someone love me?"

"Oh, ho ho ho! Who's the unlucky lady who said no to you?"

"No, it... it's not like that. I mean, um... my mom."

Munsons smile drops. The temperature drops with it, making a chill run up Steves spine.

"Your mom," he repeats.

"They're busy like, all the time," Steve automatically defends. "And they're barely here so, uh... of course they wouldn't- I mean, it's normal, right? You can't love a stranger or... whatever. It's fine. It's just... I don't know."

"Steve..." Munson pauses.

He groans, throwing his head into his hands, dramatically. He almost immediately flings his head back up, hair flying everywhere, giving Steve wide and pleading eyes.

"I can't make people fall in love or any shit like that. I can make illusions, that's it. Love is, like... way out of my jurisdiction."

"I- I'm ok with an illusion. Like, just one day or something."

"Steve, baby, you're breaking my heart."

"Please?"

"Jesus- ok!" Grumbling, Munson shifts so he's kneeling. "And in return, you won't say shit about any of this. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Great. Ugh. This next part is... weird."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"It's weird, I don't know. Deals about, like, love are sealed with a kiss."

"You're joking."

"Nope, and that's not even the weird part. Now, come on and pucker up, let's get this over with." He gestures for Steve to shuffle closer, waiting until they're sat close enough that their knees almost bump together. "You can still change your mind. Anything at all, Steve. Anything."

"I thought you wanted to get this over with?"

"On your head..."

Munson leans forward, kissing him. It's just a peck, simple and easy. No big deal, right?

Steve feels possessed. It's like someone lit a match in his stomach, leaving him lightheaded and confused. He's not sure how he ends up in Eddie's lap, clutching onto his shoulders, desperately trying to lick into his mouth. He feels so-

He wakes up in his bed, the morning light blinding him.

"What the fuck..." he mutters to himself, grabbing at his throbbing head.

At first, he thinks he's hungover. That he'd just had a weird dream... but he's wearing the same clothes. And, sat on his stomach, is a guitar pic. It's got 'corroded coffin' written on it too- Eddie's band.

"Steve!" He hears his mom call. "Time to get up!"

He scrambles out of bed, dashing down the stairs.

She smiles when she spots him, so bright and warm. She even raises an arm, laughing when he practically throws himself into her side and hugging her tight.

"Morning, sweetheart. Good dreams?"

"Yeah. Yeah, great. But, uh... I feel sick."

"Oh no," she frowns. She puts her hand to his forehead, cooing when she brushes his hair out his face. "Is it your stomach?"

"Yeah. Just... might be better to stay home today. If that's ok?"

"Of course it is. I'm sure we can find something fun to do together, yeah? How about we get a vhs movie, hm?"

"I'd love that."

"Great. Well, if you're feeling up to it, I've made breakfast." She steps away, plating the food she's cooked up. "Oh, did I ever tell you about Paris? It was beautiful, you would have loved it. We should bring you, next time we go."

Steve can't stop smiling. He's sure that his cheeks will be aching by the end of the day.

He'll have to thank Eddie- as soon as he can even think about him without blushing. He'll need to ask if it's normal to still feel... affected, even after the deal is done.

Part of him knows it isn't the deal. Part of him is too curious about how Eddie will react.

[angxlofvenus]

Hii! I saw your requests were open and I thought I'd give you a hc/fic idea:

The brothers (or whoever you'd like to write for) reacting to Mc using their shampoo/ soap in the shower for whatever reason ^^

I hope this makes sense to you lol, anyways I hope you're having a wonderful day/night, don't push yourself too hard, and drink water!! You can also take any creative liberties you seem fit, or if you decide you don't want to write it I won't be offended ^^

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Thank you so much for the request!! This is absolutely adorable, I hope everything is to your liking, Have a great rest of your day/night !! Genre: fluff Ship: Reader x brothers + Diavolo (individual headcanons) TW: clingy demons, minimal cussing, no use of readers' pronouns, second-person pov

When You Use Their Shampoo

Stepping into the shower, You were greeted with the nice hot/cool water raining from above, Going to start your routine, You reached for your shampoo bottle only to find it empty! Looking around you spotted his shampoo and conditioner, surely he wouldn’t mind… right?

Lucifer

100% smells it on you no matter how little you used

Won’t tease you in public but as soon as ya’ll are alone? Ho ho, he’ll never shut up about it

Smug, the definition of smug

You had to go and inflate the ego of The Lord of Pride even more

Very possessive afterwards

Congrats, You know have a scary guard dog demon!

Mammon

He probably wouldn’t even really notice at first

He’d probably compliment how good you smell, Then would slowly realize…

Great, Now he's yelling gibberish while his face slowly gets redder and redder

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack, don’t do that to me!” But will become very clingy

If you say his shampoo smells good, he may lose his mind.

“Well of course ya wanted to smell Like the great Mammon!” 

Levi

Poor awkward nerd

He never saw this coming

I think he would realize you used his shampoo but won’t say anything

Flustered to the max

You have broken him

Levi.404 has stopped working, please reset.

After like the third day, You’re gonna have to bring it up

Secretly really likes it, Won’t tell you that though

Satan

I think he is very picky about scents so he knows as soon as you walk into the room

A little bit of a tease, asking if you were trying out a new shampoo

Smug 2.0 

He would tease you a little bit around the others but not bad

He would flood you with compliments, You using his shampoo would make him very lovey-dovey

Expect him to ask for ya’ll to just use the same stuff from now on

Asmo

Oh honey, he knows.

He knew before you even got out of the shower.

But that doesn't mean he's any less excited!

Better plug your ears because he will let out the loudest squeal known to mankind

Seriously, Lucifer may come and check on ya’ll helicopter mom

Asks what you do and don’t like about it

He just wants you to feel as fantastic as he does when using it

Everyone will know you used his shampoo, He brings it up in every conversation

Would also 100% ask you to use his bath products 24/7

Beel

Now Beel has never been really into insane products like Asmo or Luci

So he may not really recognize it at first

If you decide to tell him, This man will become a happy demon puddle

He’ll give you a big smile and tell you you’re free to use any of his stuff at anytime

We don’t deserve Beel

Will bury his face into your hair and just stay there

Takes you out to Hell’s kitchen that night just because he loves you so much

Belphie

Oh this little shit

Tease! He won’t quit bragging!!

Smug 3.0

Such a brat about it too, He won’t let anybody near you, Well of course he’d let Beel, but who wouldn't?

He has practically locked you up in the attic with him

Why go outside when ya’ll can cuddle? 

Diavolo

Has really expensive products 

He may even have a custom scent

If so, He’ll know instantly that you’ve used his shampoo

He’ll bring it up with a large grin on his face

When you confirm his suspicions, he’ll just laugh

He’s so happy ya’ll are close enough to share things like that, You have no idea!

He may make a sly comment to Barbatos or Lucifer just because he’s a little possessive

Will follow you around like a lost puppy, Now Barbatos is mad at you because even less of his work is done

He can’t help it! He just loves you!

Will be the third on my list to offer ya’ll to just share bath products

[beomiracles]

Kai thigh fucking..

I think I’m gonna jump off a bridge with a bomb strapped to my back

⌞ 𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⌝

DREAM RECALL When waking up in the middle of the night, your horny boyfriend can't think of anything more enticing than your soft thighs.

wc -> 1k

PAIRINGS hueningkai x fem!reader WARNINGS somnophilia, dubious consent that turns into consent, pervy/horny kai, thigh fucking !

#serene adds ✎.. DON'T PLAY WITH ME I'LL GET MESSY. anyway, if you've got an extra bomb...lend me it :3 we can jump the two of us, like those angsty movies where the main characters commit together !

this isn't proofread ..

Kai liked watching you sleep. Not in a sick and perverted way of course, more in a loving-like manner. He takes in your slumbering form, lips slightly parted as you take slow and steady breaths. Your hair sticks to your forehead, shielding half of your face from him, he brushes it back gently, tucking some behind your ear. 

His eyes travel down the rest of your body, and perhaps he lingered a little too long by your chest. Biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze gets stuck on the way your perked nipples poke through the thin material of the tank top you’d thrown on a couple of hours earlier. — It wasn’t in a perverted way of course, he simply thought his girlfriend was pretty. 

Gentle fingers trace your side, stopping by your waist as his index and middle finger gently drum against your skin. He gulps as his eyes flicker down to your bare legs, plush thighs squeezed together, the same thighs that would close around his head whenever he ate you out, the thighs he pushed against your chest as he pounded into you, or the thighs that would cage him in whenever you sat on his face. They were so perfect for him to grab, to rest his head on, to litter in kisses, to fuck. 

Okay so maybe he was a little perverted. But it wasn’t Kai’s fault that his love for you made him so incredibly hard. — With a small grunt he shifts on the bed, screwing his eyes shut as he tries to sleep the desire off. He thinks he might succeed, but then you yawn, letting out a soft whine as you squirm on the mattress. And Kai is wide awake again, eyes shooting open as they immediately seize your thighs, the way the soft flesh rubbed together as you got comfortable in your sleep. 

“Fucking hell”, he mutters, reaching a tentative hand down his sweats as he palms his stiff cock through his briefs. It’s okay, he tells himself, he’ll just have to be a little quiet, no harm done right? With that gameplan in mind, Kai ventures beneath his boxers to grab ahold of his weeping dick, muffling a groan as he bites onto his free hand. 

He watches you, the way your chest moves as you inhale and exhale, the way your nose scrunches occasionally. And even though he tries to not give in, his eyes unwillingly drift back to your thighs, feeling his jaw go slack as he imagines the way they would feel around him. — No, he won’t. But it’s almost torture, to have you in front of him like this, your body so pliantly waiting to be used. 

His desperate whine echoes out onto the pillow as he buries his face against it, determined to not catch another glimpse of you. — Kai, of course, fails, and it’s not long before he lifts his head from the comforter in need of fresh air, gaze almost immediately falling on your exposed legs. “Fuck me”, he curses, feeling his last of bit of self restraint evaporate as he pulls himself from his sweats, shifting in order to get closer to your sleeping figure. 

“M’sorry”, he whispers as his large hands caress your soft thighs, hooking his fingers under your knee as he lifts one of your legs. Kai almost whimpers as he slides his hard cock between your plush thighs, his already wet shaft making it easy for him to squeeze between the plump flesh. His head falls to your shoulder, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he fights to stay somewhat composed. 

His hips jerk forward, cock easily slipping in and out of your shut legs as he coats you in his arousal. The guilt and the shame slowly subsides as he becomes overridden by pleasure, hand grasping at your hip as he keeps you in place. — You mumble something under your breath, the sound coming out as a small moan and Kai twitches between your thighs. 

And he’s so drunk on the way you feel, the way your body unknowingly invites him in, urges him on even further, that he completely misses the way you stir against him, only able to feel the way you shift against his aching cock. — He thinks he might come any second now, his high within an arm's reach as he ruts into your thighs. 

“K-Kai..?”

Your voice is laced with sleep, but it’s still loud enough for him to hear and he thinks he might actually just die on the spot. Immediately stilling, Kai lets out a small whine-like sound as he sought  to come up with any kind of explanation. Ridden with shame, he buries his face deeper in the crook of your neck. This was it, this was when you would break up with him, tell him that he’s a sick weirdo and that you wanted nothing more to do with him. 

But you don’t. Instead you reach a tired hand behind your back, fingers quickly finding the tip of his cock, protruding through your shut legs and Kai groans against your skin. “You close?” You wonder in a groggy tone and he nods, breathing out a small “yes”, barely loud enough for you to catch. You hum, fingers teasing his slit and Kai’s hips desperately jerk forward as he slips further in between your thighs. 

Your free hand is in his hair, gently tugging at the longer locks and he swears he saw a shooting star. — And when he does finally finish between your legs, his teeth graze the skin of your neck as he cries out. Continuing to fuck himself dumb against you as pathetic “thank you’s” and “sorry’s” leave his blabbering lips. It’s not until the high has fully subsided that reality slowly seems to set in for him and he pulls back with a sheepish look on his flushed face. 

He finds you already looking at him with a sleep dazed expression as you slowly blink. “You woke me up.” You calmly state and Kai opens his mouth to apologize once more but you cut him off. “Make up for it, will you?” — Not having to be told twice, he immediately slides down between your legs as he tugs your panties off.

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[mistiell]

The one request that’s bouncing around my head is Astarion dealing with a sick mc like fever chills and no sense of balance because of vitiligo

Hope you enjoy <3 WC: 1.3k

---

You feel like shit. Total and utter shit.

What started as a sore throat has evolved into a fever and chills, along with an absolutely skull splitting migraine. The sheets twist uncomfortably as you turn onto your back, clinging to your sweat slicked skin. You can’t bring yourself to kick them off. Not when the ache in your bones makes it feel like they’re breaking.

The sun has been up for nearly an hour, now. If you don’t come out soon, one of your companions will come get you. A strangled whimper forces it’s way out of your throat as you force yourself up, curling in on yourself and dropping your face into your hands.

After trying to decide between attempting to take a breath through your sufficiently stuffed nose or through your mouth, you choose the latter. Which you realize is a terrible mistake when it suddenly feels like a thousand tiny knives are skinning the inside of your throat. It makes you cough, which makes it a million times worse, which makes you cough even more.

It’s a good minute until you can finally breathe again; throat raw, beads of tears drying on your lashes. You’re sure you’re a sorry sight. It makes you glad no one is here to see you in all your disease ridden glory.

“Sweet Hells, are you hacking up a lung in here–?” Not even all the way inside your tent yet, Astarion stops immediately after he lays eyes on you. The disgust is immediately replaced by a hesitant sort of concern, brows just barely creasing, “Oh dear.”

“Do I look that bad?” He grimaces at the way your voice grates, gaze flitting over various parts of you before he meets your eyes again.

“You look dreadful.” You think it’s meant to be playful, but he looks and sounds just a little too concerned for it to land that way.

You snort anyway, rubbing at your sweaty forehead, “Thanks.”

He hovers there, uncharacteristically quiet as he glances outside before sighing and coming the rest of the way inside. He’s still in his regular clothes, which makes you think the others haven’t started getting their armour on yet. Thank gods.

He sits down in front of you on your bedroll, knees barely a hair’s width from yours as he cradles the nape of your neck in a gentle hand and presses the inside of his wrist to your forehead. Eyes fluttering shut, a small sigh of relief escapes you when his blessedly cool skin meets yours. You barely think about it as you place a sluggish hand over it to keep him there.

“You’re nice and cool.” You sound listless.

“And you’re about as hot as the hells.” He sighs. You can hear the frown in his voice, “This has gotten out of hand.”

Peeling your eyes open, you blink at him in confusion, “What?”

He lets his wrist fall but keeps a kind hold on your neck, looking deadly serious.

“I know how much you love flattery, but you should know you really don’t have to go to such lengths to get me to wax poetic about your eternal beauty.” It seems like he can’t help the smile that cracks that through the act he’s putting on, “I truly appreciate the effort, but a simple, ‘Astarion, my dearest love, tell me I’m pretty.’ would do just fine.”

A giggle bubbles up from your throat, and you list forward to hide your face in his shoulder as you rasp weakly, “I do not sound like that.”

He hums, giving your nape a gentle squeeze before stroking a little line behind your ear with his thumb. You can feel his teasing smile against the side of your head, “Thankfully not. Should you ever call me your dearest love, I fear I may just drop dead a second time.”

Your laughter dies down, and you’re left with an astronomical wave of fatigue. He wraps his free arm around you when you slump further into him.

“Darling?” He jostles you a little bit. Again, he attempts a joke. Again, he’s too worried for it to come out right, “Don’t go dying on me now. With all we’ve been through, it would be such a waste.”

You huff a small, breathy puff of laughter, turning your face so the bridge of your nose rests against the side of his neck, “I won’t.”

He eases his hand up and down the length of your spine. You barely register it when he turns his head just enough to nose at your temple briefly.

“You should lay back down.” His voice is softer now. The feeling of his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear makes you shiver. Although, that could also be the fever.

You sigh, pulling yourself away from his shoulder. The movement sends the world tilting over and over in one direction. Breath hitching, you feel yourself sway as your eyes squeeze shut.

“What’s wrong?” He sounds a little alarmed as you drop your head into your hands.

“Vertigo.” You breathe. Everything keeps spinning behind your eyelids.

You can hear him shift before his hands find one of your forearms and your shoulder blades, guiding you to lay back.

“I have to–.”

He cuts you off, suddenly stern, “The only thing you have to do right now is rest.”

“But the others–.” You try again. It’s in vain.

Scoffing, he turns his nose up. “The others can shove it, as far as I’m concerned.”

You huff, ready to argue until you open your eyes and notice the anxious quirk of his brows. Instead, you sigh, sluggishly placing you hand over his, “Fine.”

You just barely manage to hear the small breath of relief that escapes him as he turns his hand to give yours a squeeze. He leans forward to press his lips to your forehead before pulling away, “I’ll be right back.”

You only nod.

He comes back five minutes later with a small bowl of water, a cloth, and two slices of bread balanced carefully in his arms.

“You don’t have to eat it yet.” Is all he says as he sets the plate down a little ways away. After wetting the cloth, he rings it out into the bowl and folds it in half before laying it over your forehead. You sigh as it cools your skin. It only lasts a few moments before your skin has warmed it again.

He tries again, then again, before huffing; frustrated.

“I’m sorry.” You croak, and he tuts, shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize, darling. It’s not you.” He sighs, looking properly perturbed now.

“Maybe Shadowheart–.”

“I asked. There’s nothing she can do.” It comes out bitterly, but you know it’s only because he’s worried.

You suddenly have an idea, but first you have to ask, “Can you get sick?”

Looking confused, he shakes his head, “No, I can’t. But, what-?” Pulling back the covers, you open your arms. It clicks, and he chuckles as he climbs in beside you, “Plan to use me as an ice pack, do you?”

“That’s the plan.” It comes out more deadpan than you mean it to. It makes him laugh a little harder, and you can feel the vibrations as your head settles over his chest. Having him next to you is like a balm in more ways than one.

Eyes heavy, you sigh as his hand trails idly along the length of your bicep. You guess he can hear your breathing and heart rate slowing when he whispers, “Sleep, my love.”

And who are you to deny him when he asks so nicely?

[jesuistrestriste]

Tying subby Art down to the bed with ribbons, edging him over and over because he was being a fuckin brat. He'd look so damn pretty with tears staining his cheeks, just begging, "Please, mommy, please! I promise ill be good!" Crying harder when you slap him, telling him to shut the fuck up and stop whining (i KNOW this man whimpers)

Art Donaldson had known this was coming. Or, he really should have. He’d gotten mouthy with you. If he had corrected his behavior, he wouldn't currently have his arms tied up to the bed while you straddled his thighs and made his life a living hell. Sigh, if only he had just thought ahead.

His little quips of mumbled attitude throughout the day had made you grow increasingly frustrated. And they were so incessant that you had started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose. The last straw came when he had said something along the lines of "can you please just fucking touch me? you're being so rigid right now.."

Oh? He wanted to be 'fucking touched'?

He thought you were being 'rigid'?

Fine. You'd give him something to really whine about.

-

And that you did.

Art's body is shaking furiously under your seat over his legs, his hips jolting and squirming over the bed as his head tips back and he sobs. Big, fat, heavy tears pour down the sides of his face, but they did nothing to convince you to relent.

Your hand had been furiously stroking his aching cock for the past hour and a half. It was brutal. The stiffened, throbbing flesh had gushed more spurts of precome than you could ever count or keep track of, and it was now coated in a slimy film of his own filth mixed with the water-based lube you poured over him every fifteen minutes to keep him slick.

You had denied him ten times so far. The tears had come after the fourth denial. It was all downhill from there.

He's now crying so hard that his chest is heaving, but you opt to rub your free hand over his contracting abdomen as you touch his erection instead of letting him come. Because, after all, he'd been a brat all day. He deserves this. Deep down, under the layers of faint resentment, desperation, anguish, and hopelessness, even he knows he deserves this.

His blonde curls are a mess against the pillow, and his wrists are starting to feel raw from the constant tugging on the thick, satin ribbons holding his hands in place and away from his body (and yours). All that truly keeps him from bucking up into your hand the way he so desperately wants to is your firm seat over his trembling legs. You keep him in place. You keep him grounded. Physically, if not mentally and emotionally.

As your hand moves up to quickly fist his sensitive tip in your grasp, a slurry of precome comes dribbling out and Art's body all but snaps in half as his back arches up from the mattress and he lets out a wail of a moan.

"Please!" he cries, his head thrashing against the plush cushion underneath, his hands once again involuntarily yanking at the bondage, "Ugh—! I can't do any more! No more! N-No more!"

You smile.

He hiccups and tries to swallow down another sob before he chokes on it and it comes tumbling out from his lips anyway.

If he really wanted to stop, he'd say the safeword. Even in the most intense depths of his submissive mindscape, he could say the word to you. Through tears, through thrusts, through anything. So you didn't stop. He could take some more.

You shake your head, your hand on his abdomen rubbing in slow, comforting circles as you look over his flushed body. Your hand on his pulsing length twists around his cockhead as your wrist rolls, and your palm glides over his leaking slit in one long, languid stroke. He immediately keens and his eyes roll back as he tugs at the ties again.

"Be quiet, Art," you say, your hand circling his tip before it goes back to stroking him fully up and down, "you're fine. You were a bad boy today, so do you really think I'm gonna let you off so easy? Be still."

He starts to shake his head as he whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut, before he nods reluctantly and tries to steady his twitching and shuddering.

He wants to grab your thighs, your forearms, or, hell, even the sheets. He'd grab whatever was available at this point if he could, but he can't. So he settles for wrapping his hands around the length of ribbon that connects each knot around his wrist to the appropriate spot near the headboard.

He'd torn his hands up on multiple occasions from playing tennis. The stinging callouses that bled when he carried on without bandaging were more tolerable than this. By far. He'd take a handful of those over any more of this agonizing torture. And he'd say this to you if he could speak instead of bawl. Maybe then you'd believe how badly he needs to finish.

He manages to pull himself together just enough to lift his head up and look to you as he miraculously slurs out some words through his tears. Two fresh ones drip down his pink cheeks as he attempts to barter with you.

"Please— Oh, please—!" he whined, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel hot all over, "I promise I'll be good now! I swear-!"

You frown and stroke him faster, before your hand over his stomach lifts up and you lean in to swiftly slap him across the the face. It was hard enough to make a sound, but certainly not hard enough to do any actual damage to his pretty cheek.

Just hard enough to hurt and make a point.

His head snaps to the side with the force of the hit, a red tint beginning to creep over his delicate skin, and he lets his head fall back onto the pillow again. A loud, painful whimper erupts from his chest as new waves of tears fall.

Impact-play is something he enjoys, especially during times like this, but he makes that hard to believe when he only goes and cries harder in response.

"You seriously need to learn when to shut your mouth," you snap, "no more whining or I'll just leave you here like this for the rest of the night."

"Nooo," he sobs in defeat. Your words burn him, but they burn so good. His orgasm is creeping in quickly again, but he knows you'll stop it before he gets there.

If you pay attention, it's easy to observe that Art has tells for when he's about to release. He goes from loud moans to stifled, shaky gasps that increase in pace and frequency. He goes from harsh jolts and convulsions to being stiff as a board. His body's sensitivity lets him be an open book. He's an easy read, that's all. And oh boy, can you read him well.

His bodily reactions and habits—at the very least—make your job easier. If he was less sensitive and less reactive, you would have a much harder time edging him properly. That's for sure.

Eventually, after two more denials, you decide to let him finally finish. He almost doesn't believe it when you keep stroking him after he's already stiffened up and gone quiet. His brows are all pinched up and his eyes are squeezed shut as the ribbon digs into his flesh. His hips can't really buck into your touch with you still sitting over him, but he tries anyway while he tenses up all over. His lips part in a silent, anticipatory moan.

Your hand gives him four solid pumps after his body warns you of the rapidly building pleasure, and then Art is cumming with a sharp cry.

His entire form shudders as his heels dig into the bed, and he nearly bucks you off of him like a startled horse from the force and intensity of his orgasm. Your eyes stay fixed to his sensitive parts in your grasp as his balls empty completely over your hand and his lower abdomen in thick, sticky ropes.

It's a heavy load. It's so much that it almost looks like someone spilled a bunch of translucent, sugary icing all over his body and between your fingers. it's so much that it almost seems inhuman. It just goes on and on and on. And he just moans and moans and moans.

"Yess-ss—! Ohh—! yesyesyesyes—!"

"Ahh! AH! Mmngh—!"

He makes the prettiest sounds.

You pump him faster.

You milk him until he gets oversensitive and starts to whine, squirming and panting and gasping for air, and then you finally (finally) let him go.

He collapses down instantly, twitching with the aftershocks, but laying completely spent like a puppet with cut strings. He's beautiful.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," is all he can slur out as his eyes remain unfocused and lidded.

"You're welcome," you say.

your voice is tender and helps to bring him down. In a moment or two, you'll untie his wrists and press a kiss to each. You'll bring him a glass of water and grab a towel to clean him up after you wash your hands. You'll hold him and cuddle him and stroke his sore muscles as he buries his face in your neck. You'll tell him you love him, and how good he did until he can fall asleep.

You wear him out like a dog sometimes, but if you asked him to bark.. who's to say he wouldn't?

All that Art knows as he drifts off is one truth:

He's never going to be bratty ever again.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Handle Critique

I’ve got to admit, I wish I was one of those beatific saints that could take critique with a grateful smile. Instead, I am constantly suppressing a horrible little gremlin at the back of my head hissing at anything from legit plot critiques to grammar corrections. I’m well aware I used that comma wrong, GOD.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very good at suppressing that gremlin, but the little bastard is still there. He exists because even though your brain knows critique can help, it also knows you worked damn hard on the thing being critiqued, and goddamnit, isn’t that enough???

Anyway, here are some tips on getting that gremlin to shut the hell up.

It is okay to be upset. You worked really hard on this thing, and now someone’s gone and pointed out all the things that suck about it. You cannot control how you feel about one thing or another, but you can allow yourself to feel that way and let it pass through you. Let your critique partner you’re taking time to reflect on it, and go for a walk. Do something else. Let those feelings pass through you before you get back to the page.

Give yourself time. Don’t feel like you need to correct things right away (unless they are minimal grammar tweaks). Some pieces of feedback might take awhile to sink in, especially when you’ve got a whole novel to wrestle through. Set it aside, think about something else for a week or so, and get back to it when you’ve reset.

Get a second opinion and/or ducky friend. It can be very hard to tell the difference between good and bad feedback sometimes. Someone who means very well could give feedback that just doesn’t work for you, and someone who doesn’t give two shits could have spotted that fatal flaw right away. You can bring in a real third party or just make use of the old rubber duck technique, where you talk through the issue with a friend or a Naruto poster telling you to Believe it. Working it out out-loud is a really effective technique to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn’t.

Guide critique-givers toward the feedback you want. I, a person who prefers straightforward fantasy and sci-fi, cannot give the fine-tooth points on how a romance novel should work. However, I can give feedback on what works for me and what doesn’t story-wise. Giving your beta reader or critique partner a list of questions to look for will help avoid vague feedback based on how they don’t like the genre. There are many ways to do this, but consider using the following as a base to tailor your own questions:

Did you get a good sense of the setting? Did the worldbuilding make sense to you?

Was this story clear? Where there any parts that seemed confusing?

What characters did you like and why? What characters didn’t you like?

Did any parts of the story feel slow or repetitive?

Did the beginning draw you in? Did the middle keep you engaged? Did the ending feel satisfying?

If you were to write [insert plot point here], what would you do differently?

Again, all of the above questions are up for debate depending on your goal, but we are rarely taught how to give good feedback, and a guided feedback session would work better for you than a free-for-all.

Figure out what kind of advice doesn’t work for you. It is really hard to give good feedback sometimes, even with guided questions. It can also be really hard to figure out why some feedback doesn’t click with you, and that’s a matter of digging deep to figure out what you really want. You may lean toward characters who are horrible fuck-ups, but your partner prefers more steady characters who always strive to do the right thing. Your characters, therefore, may never click with this person, no matter how much they want to help you. And that’s okay! Figuring out where your critique partner is coming from can help you figure out what parts of their feedback isn’t working for you. Sometimes the only thing you can do is thank them and move on, but you might also want to guide them to focus more on the plot or the worldbuilding when looking at your work.

And last, don’t focus on grammar. It’s great if they point that out, but if you end up changing everything, trying to fix that first is a waste of your time. Grammar tweaks last, plot points first.

And, I dunno, give yourself a treat to get that horrible little mind gremlin something else to focus on. Sometimes patting those bad feelings on the head and sending them away can help way more than ignoring them.