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earthchica · 2 days ago

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Remind You

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: you've been neglecting your relationship with your husband, Terry, for a few weeks. He is tired of being patient, and he shows you what you've been missing.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), light use of daddy, foul language, dirty talking, dom/sub, oral (f & m), hair pulling, rough, edging, praise kink, ass smacking, unprotected sex, nicknames [ baby, sweetheart, beautiful, mama & more ] words: 3k

note: late-night writes, some short, sweet, and hot to start the new year. I hope you enjoyed it; there may be some errors.

You settled into your office, the hum of your computer blending with the quiet of the home. It was supposed to be your day off, a chance to leave work and spend time with your husband.

But instead, you found yourself glued to your screen, mulling over deadlines and project updates. As you typed away, a crinkling sound brought you back to reality.

You looked over the computer and noticed Terry standing in the doorway with a grin. He was shirtless, his toned abs glinting, and wearing sweatpants that showcased his dick print, making you wild.

“Lunch time!” Terry declared, stepping in with a tray of two homemade sandwiches and fries. Your heart skipped a beat, the sweet gesture almost pulling you out of your work-induced haze.

“Terry, I’m really busy right now,” you said, trying to keep your voice firm but failing to suppress a smile. You could feel your resolve wavering as those light eyes sparkled with despoilment.

“Oh, come on, baby. Just a quick break? I made your favorite sandwich just the way you like it” Terry said, crossing the room casually.

Terry placed the tray on your small table by the window and shifted his weight, tilting his head slightly. “I promise; I only need an hour of your time.”

His tone was light, but an undercurrent of seriousness caught your attention. You knew he was trying to break the work mode you had inadvertently created regarding distractions.

"An hour, Terry? I appreciate the food, I really do, honey but I need to focus on this now. I’ll eat later,” you replied, glancing back at your work.

Terry clenched his jaw, slowly losing his patience. “Well, sweetheart, I don't fucking care,” he shot back, his tone firm and unwavering. “I’m not going to ask you again."

His voice filled with frustration and longing. Both of you locked eyes momentarily, stubborn and determined in your own ways. But then, with a sigh, you got up from your desk and joined him at the table.

As both of you ate your sandwiches, chatting a little bit, Terry couldn't help but smile at his wife's finally getting a little bit of her attention.

You couldn't help but feel grateful for Terry's persistent love, patience, and care. After finishing your sandwich, "Thanks for lunch, baby," you said, stood up.

You were ready to head back to your desk and tackle your tasks. "Yo, We're not done," Terry said, unexpectedly stepping before you, his eyes darkened.

Before you could react, he pushed you gently against the wall, the suddenness of the move catching you off guard. You could feel the cool surface against your back.

You looked up at him as he towered over you, a mix of surprise and curiosity swirling in your mind. His lips found your neck, trailing soft kisses up and down, creating a shiver that danced down your spine.

Each kiss sent waves of warmth through you, almost making you forget the tasks that awaited. "Terry, I really need to focus and get back to work now," you began, your voice steady but edged with urgency.

“I know...I just...Look, I miss you. I know you got to get that work done, but I need your attention, baby. Just for a little bit, it’s been weeks, and I need my wife.”

The way he shifted closer, brushing his lips against your dark-brown smooth skin, sent a delightful shiver coursing through you. Terry drew you in for a passionate kiss, missing how his lips felt on yours.

A part of you felt guilty for how much you had been neglecting him, lost in your work but another part of you really wanted to get your job done, or you felt unease.

"Terry, please, I need to-" You started, but he cut you off, frustration bubbling. "Is work all you ever think about? It feels like you completely forget that I’m even here," Terry shot back.

His tone was a mix of hurt and exasperation. The atmosphere between you was thick with unspoken words as you both stood there, the weight of the moment hanging in the air.

"I'm sorry, Terry," you whispered, looking up at him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your hands trembling as you placed them on his chest.

"Oh, you are going to be more than sorry when I get through with you," Terry replied, his voice low and husky. He pulled away from you slightly.

His eyes raked over your plump body with hunger and lust, and he took your shorts off with your panties. You could feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second.

You bit your lip and went to loosen his sweatpants, letting them slowly drop to his feet. The sight of his rock-hard, throbbing dick made your horny spike even higher.

Terry crossed his arms in a pose that tried to convey indifference, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his excitement. "What do you think you're doing, baby?" he asked, and you couldn't help but smile.

He had been waiting weeks for the surge of attention he was finally receiving. It felt exhilarating, and so, with a teasing smile, you get down on your knees.

With a fierce determination in your eyes, you declare, "You said you needed me, Daddy, and I won't let you down. This is how I'll make it up to you."You took hold of his length in your hand and began stroking him slowly, causing him to moan.

As you continued to stroke him, your other hand started to trail up his chest and stomach, feeling the defined muscles underneath his light caramel skin.

You could feel the heat radiating off of him, and it only added to your growing arousal. Terry's grip on your arms tightened, his breathing becoming heavier.

"Fuck, you know what you're doing to me, right?" Terry growled, his voice low and husky. You grinned up at him, enjoying your power over him now.

"I'm giving you what you ask for, Daddy," you replied coyly before taking him into your mouth. Terry's head fell back as he let out a deep moan, his eyes closing in pleasure.

You continued to suck and lick him, using every trick you knew to drive him wild with desire. His hands gripped your hair as he thrust gently into your mouth, pushing himself deeper into your throat.

The air was filled with the sounds of moans and gasps as he neared closer to his release. And just when he was about to climax, you pulled away with a mischievous smile.

"Shit, you dirty for that. Do you think you get away with that? Nah, lil mama. That's not how this works," Terry panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

With a swift motion, Terry reached out, grasping your arms and pulling you up from the floor. He shoved everything off your desk to another side of the desk with a fierce swipe.

Terry roughly bends you over its edge, exposing your vulnerable back. You turn your head to glance back at him, catching a glimpse of the playful smirk spreading across his face.

His eyes still twinkle with lust as he lifts his hand, then brings it down sharply to deliver a stinging smack on your ass, causing you to moan slightly in pleasure.

"Tell me, why you've been a bad girl. What have you done wrong, baby?" Terry asked, taking the rest of your clothes before delivering another smack to your ass, causing you to moan.

"I’ve-I've been neglecting you, Terry. I've been so wrapped up in work that I've completely lost sight of what’s important—us. I didn't mean to make you feel unappreciated." You took a breath.

"I'm truly sorry, baby. Please forgive me," you said softly, your voice trembling.

"Mmmm, I'll see when I'm done with you," Terry says, began playing with your pussy lips, running his fingers through the pool of your wetness before placing both of his big hands on your ass and spreading them.

Terry thrust his face eagerly between the gap of your ass and greedily shoved his tongue inside your dripping pussy. As he delved deeper, flicking his head.

"Ahhh, Terry," you let out a primal moan, your body shuddering with pleasure. "Damn, baby. Your pussy is practically begging for me," he growled as he pulled away momentarily.

"I could drool in this tight little cunt all day; it's purring for me, just waiting to be devoured." His words sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't wait for him to feast on you.

Terry's tongue works its magic, lapping and swirling against your most sensitive spots, eliciting moans of pleasure from you as you grip his head and push him deeper.

Your eyes roll back in sheer ecstasy as you feel the intensity of his ministrations, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body.

"Oh god, Terry…you always know how to please me so good," you gasp, your body aching for release. "Your tongue feels so good; it's driving me insane."

You can't help but praise him, showering him with grateful words for everything he does for you but Terry is focused solely on giving you pleasure, ignoring your words as he hungrily devours you.

His lips travel down to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and causing you to cry out in pleasure. "Fuck, Terry! You're an amazing husband," you pant, feeling yourself losing control under his skilled touch.

"I love you so much, I'm sorry…please forgive me…" But your apologies are cut off by another wave of pleasure as Terry continues to suck and lick at your core.

You beg for more, pleading with him to give you what you need. "You know you can't stay mad at me," you whimper, knowing your words are getting to him.

"Just fuck me; show me what I've been missing these past weeks with that big dick of yours." You cried, glancing back at him for a second.

Terry stood up, stroking his dick before sliding himself inside of you and gripping your ass cheeks as he thrusts into you deeply, causing both of you to moan.

The feeling of being filled and stretched by him is almost too much to handle, but you revel in the intensity of it all.

"Yes…that's it," you moan, completely lost in the moment as Terry takes you to new heights of pleasure. This is what you've been craving.

You pressed your ass firmly against him, teasingly grinding and jiggling to gauge his reaction. A giggle escaped your lips as he responded by gripping your hair tightly to stop your movement.

The heat radiating from his body was intense, and you could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your back. Your skin tingled in anticipation as you waited for his next move.

"Shit, I see what you’re doing, and it’s fucking working. I couldn't deny my baby," Terry whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

With a sudden surge of strength, he began thrusting faster, his body moving in sync with yours. "You've got me wrapped around your finger, baby," he growled, his voice laced with desire.

"But let's this be warned, never do this shit to me again, you hear me," His dominant nature took control as he claimed every inch of you with each powerful movement.

"Yes, ahh, I hear you. Never again, please fuck me, Terry; I need you," You moaned, begging, tilting your head to look at him with hope, desire, and sincerity.

"Fuck, I love you, girl," Terry said, kissing you while pulling out and slamming into your pussy hard, which made both of you moan at the same time.

"Do you like that? You like it when bending you over and fucking workaholic out of you?"

"Yes, fuck, ahh, yes, fuck it just like that," You cried, moans and gasps filled the air as your bodies moved in perfect sync, a symphony of skin on skin and ecstasy.

Your eyes locked with his, both of you wearing matching expressions of pleasure and need. Youtangled together, gripping tightly as if holding on for dear life.

"Oh, fuck…yes," you moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over you with each thrust. Skin slapping against skin echoed through the office, punctuated by your ragged breaths and moans.

Terry's grip on your wide hip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he drove deeper inside you. Every movement sent sparks flying through your body, igniting a fire that threatened to consume you.

Your bodies were drenched in sweat, heat radiating from both of you as you surrendered to the rhythm he set. "Tell me how much you love and appreciate me," he growled, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh, Terry, I love you so much; you are the best thing that's ever happened. ," you pleaded, your voice thick with desire.

A sly smile crossed Terry's lips as he teased at your sensitive skin, his lips dancing along your shoulder. "Remember this feeling every time you think about work," he whispered before thrusting into you with such force that the desk beneath you creaked and groaned under the strain.

You couldn't help but cry out in pure bliss as another wave of pleasure washed over you, fully surrendering to him at that moment. Your breath hitched as the desk shook beneath you, the sound of wood creaking mingling with your cries of pleasure.

Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, and the way he filled you up felt like a promise—one that banished all thoughts of work was everything.

“Can you feel all of me, baby? This is what you’ve been missing,” Terry growled, his voice deep and resonant, making your heart race even faster.

"Yes.....I feel it.....Terry" You nodded fervently, lost in the rhythm, feeling every inch of him as he expertly worked his way in and out of you.

You could hardly form words but somehow you got them out, “I can’t believe I ever forgot…I’m so sorry for neglecting you… neglecting us…”

His hand slipped down your pussy, fingers finding your sensitive spot as he pressed against it with precision. “You...*thrusts* better...*thrusts*....not forget again,”

Terry punctuates each word with a powerful thrust. Your body quaked under the intensity of his thrusts, the table protesting against the fervor of your union.

“yes, yes, yes Terry! Just like that, please!" You cried. "I need to be reminded—show me, take it, take it, Daddy,” you urged added, lost in the haze of pleasure.

His hands gripped your ass tightly, holding you in place as he drove deeper into you, each thrust reverberating through the room like a wild symphony.

“Ahhh, fuck, I love this pretty pussy; I've been craving it, baby,” Terry moaned; the heat between you both grew unbearable, your cries blending with the sound of skin meeting skin.

You could feel the familiar tightening within you, a coil winding tighter with every thrust. “Ahh, I know. Oh ahh fuck me, Terry! I’m so close!” you whimpered, desperate for release.

“Not yet,” Terry commanded, slowing his pace to tease you. “I want to hear you begging for it.” He added, pulling out for a second and turning me around to face him.

Terry kissed you passionately, causing you to moan as his tongue danced with yours. Terry pulled away from the kiss. "Ride me like a good girl until I say you could cum"

He sits down in the chair, looking at you making your heart race. You grab his shoulders while straddling him, guiding his hard dick into your soaking wet pussy.

You looked at him with lust-filled eyes, holding on to his shoulders, and you began to ride him, bouncing up and down on his dick, savoring the feeling of being connected with him again.

"That's it, mama," Terry moaned, his hands on your hips guiding your movements and giving your ass smack as you rode him harder and faster.

"You feel so fucking good, fuck baby fuck." Terry's eyes never left yours as he watched your face contort with pleasure. You could see his longing and the need to release this built tension.

It spurred you on, and you began to move even faster, grinding your hips against his as you chased after both of your releases. "Yes! Just like that, baby," Terry moaned, his grip tightening around your waist.

"You're doing so well. It's beautiful that you're making it last for both of us." The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel the electricity sparking between you.

Your breath quickened as you felt yourself getting closer. The friction between your bodies became a fiery dance, each movement igniting the passion that lay dormant in you for too long.

"Oh, fuck I can't hold any longer. I want to be filled with your cum, Terry! I want you to cum with me, please!" You cried out, urgency lacing your voice.

“Beg to cum. Let me hear you,” Terry said, lifting you up from the chair, laying you down on the desk, and grabbing your arms; and you cried began to beg.

"I'm begging you, Terry! Please let me cum! I need to fucking feel your cum inside me," you cried with tears, your body thrumming. The mix of pleasure and urgency was overwhelming.

"Shit, ahh fuck," Terry grunts, feeling you squeezing him tighter as waves of ecstasy ripple through you. "Please, please, please," you begged frantically, feeling yourself on the brink of cumming.

Terry groaned in response, his body tensing as he, too, neared the edge of climax. The tension and desperation between you both escalated, fueling a primal need for release that threatened to consume you both in an explosive moment of ecstasy.

His pace became frantic, each thrust a testament to both his need and yours. You could feel the tension building inside you, the sweet release beckoning just beyond the edge.

“I’m so close, too,” he grunted, his voice strained with pleasure as he leaned down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. “Please, fill me with cum!” you cried, your body arching up.

“Cum for me, baby,” Terry breathed against your mouth, his forehead pressed against yours as he locked eyes with you, the connection deeper than mere bodies entwined.

You and Terry collided, orgasming, moaning each other's names as he drove himself deep inside you. You were a little overwhelmed as his warm seed filled you up, causing your body to convulse with ecstasy.

Terry pulled out, and you gasped for air, only to feel him push his cum back inside of you, pushing you over the edge once more. The intensity of it all left you breathless and trembling.

The sensation of him pushing his cum back inside you sent another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins, igniting that fire once more.

Your body trembled beneath him, still sensitive from the explosive release you had just shared. The moment felt electric, raw, and primal.

You locked eyes with Terry, who was equally breathless, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “See what you’ve been missing?” he murmured, his voice teasingly low.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, and it only fueled the desire still simmering in your core. “I won’t forget again,” you promised your voice barely a whisper.

You ran your fingers along his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. “I swear I won’t let anything, especially my work, come between us again. You forgive me?” You asked, taking a breath.

"I forgive you, baby," Terry said, leaning down, capturing your lips in a soft yet fervent kiss that conveyed everything that you both were feeling after that unforgettable moment.

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dckweed · 2 days ago

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ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain. abuse is depicted in this one right off the bat,ptsd/nightmares, panty sniffing, face sitting, over stim, biting, squirting, i think our wolf just hates us okay? because everytime i write her, she comes out so mean.

please click this link! each click helps me earn some extra money, as well as each person that clicks the link and signs up (its completely free, and takes 0 time), a completely harmless way to earn some extra cash that doesn't involve giving me any of your own!

happy new years :) feel free to send thots/ideas to my inbox for these babes (or even for the other 141 fellas)

series masterlist here.

PART THREE: hurts si’

“You dumb bitch, look what you did!” Glass clattered and a hand made contact with your face, causing something to drop from your hands as they flew to your face for protection, a whimper leaving your puckered lips as sharp shards scatter about the ground and imbed in the skin of your legs, stinging. “Are you fuckin’ dropping shit now? Huh?” Another blow, this one landing on your ear, causing it to ring and your eyes to blur for a moment as you wobbled on the balls of your feet, swaying from side to side. The man yelling at you was larger than you, older. His breath was hot and sour as he screamed in your face, his words sounding a million miles away as you tried to focus. What had you done this time? It wasn’t you that had knocked over the glass of water..you weren’t even near that side of the table..it was all your brother, all the boy who sat and watched as your father threatened to beat you black and blue again for something that you didn’t do.

The ringing becomes too much, you fall to your knees and groan, head pounding and eyesight blurry, you barely notice the shards of whatever dish had fallen from your hands pushing further into the skin of your shins as you sink to the rough wood floor of the kitchen.

“...OFF THE FUCKING FLOOR, OMEGA!” He screamed, your hearing seeming to come back around, or maybe he just bellowed loud enough to overpower the ringing..you shook violently, fear and pain ringing through your body as he grabbed you by the hair on your scalp, dragging you across the ground, pushing the sharp bits of glass deeper into your skin..you would have to go digging to get them out now..

“No!NO! Papa, Papa please!” Your voice was frantic, shrill eyes wide as they finally focused enough to comprehend where he was pulling you off to, the familiar dingey wooden door of your own personal hell hole coming into sight. You’d only just been allowed out after..you couldn’t even remember how long..long enough that the days blurred together and you couldn’t tell how many tomorrows had come and passed. “No! I’ll be good, i’ll be good!” You clawed at his arm above you, trying desperately to pry his alpha strength off of your head, kicking your legs in an effort to slow him down, to buy yourself enough time to talk him out of it.

“There’s no such thing as a good Omega, you’re living proof!” He growls, throwing open the deadbolt to the door before swinging it open. The darkness awaiting you seemed thicker than usual. “You all deserve to be punished! To be hid, to be locked away and never looked at again! You deserve to be treated like the runts and vermin you fucking are! Your mother tricked me into thinking that she was sweet and innocent, that she needed me to protect her, to fill her with little alpha pups, and then she gave me you! And then you killed her when you breathed life and stole hers, and i saw you for what you are, nothing but a conniving, evil monster!” He held your hair tightly at the top of the stairs, forcing you to look up into his eyes as he ranted at you, for something that you didn’t even remember. Weren’t capable of remembering..

He raised you off of your feet and your eyes widened, a shrill plea leaving your chest “NO, NO! N-AHHGH!”

Simon lay in bed, hands balled into fists behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, the moon dancing across it as it shined through his window, jaw clenched as he listened to you whimper and moan through the thin wall separating your room from his. His senses were on high alert, his wolf haywire in his mind. It took every ounce of self control he had not to jerk off to the smell of you, once he started he knows he probably wouldn’t ever stop, not until he’d had the real thing and not just the thought of you. He knew that his cock was probably going to be perpetually hard now, never going to go down until he’d stuffed the meaty length of it into your sweet smelling cunt, not until he’d fucked it good and stuffed it full of his pups would he even be able to think like a normal alpha again.

The smell of you was intoxicating. It flooded his senses and over powered his mind. You were sweet smelling, decadent he could even say. He had noted it before you’d been in heat but now that you were, even in just the beginning stages, it was more powerful, more endearing and mouth watering. It was enough to make a man forget how to behave. It was enough to drive an Alpha into delirium, to trigger his own rut.

He grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to think about anything other than you, shoving a knife into someone's chest, pizza and a cheap pint, johnny- no! Not that scottish prick! His wolf howled and he grunted, fisting his own hair just to feel something to keep himself grounded. Johnny wouldn’t shut his trap, his intrusive thoughts and his lack of a thought process allowing him to just blurt out how good you smelled, he could just hear his voice in his head, could hear him “Bet that lit’le cunt is nie’ n warm, wet ‘n sloppy, eh LT? Smells like a fookin’ dream..” He was just shooting up in bed with a growl at imaginary Johnny when your scream pierced his ears, his bedroom door slammed against the wall, ricocheting as he busted through yours after flying down the hallway, practically ripping it off of its hinges. He looked around wildly, looking for any sign of an intruder, ready to fight off some stray Alpha or Beta that might have followed your pheromones from town in hopes of mating and breeding you against your will in the middle of the night.

He saw nobody, saw nothing but you thrashing wildly in the middle of the king sized bed you had built your nest upon, spotting the hoodie he’d shrugged off of his body and laid in the middle of your spot while you took a hot bath earlier in the day, satisfied that he could leave you alone with something to scent to help calm you down. He had paid enough attention in Omega anatomy class to remember that that was something that you guys craved, and just the scent of a strong Alpha could help ease the pain wrought by your heat. You were in pain, he decided, that was why you had screamed as you had, there was nothing for him to protect you from, nothing for him to keep you safe from in your vulnerable state.

He had just wrestled his wolf back from the forefront of his mind and was slowly backing away from your bed and back towards the hallway when you let loose another scream, this one was one of pure terror. You were sat straight up in bed, his fight or flight triggered, he throws himself at you, wrapping his arms around you as he throws you back down, tucking you into his body as he looses a mean growl, baring his teeth as he looked all about, trying to find what you were so terrified of.

“No!NO!” You screamed, thrashing and bucking under him, your eyes squeezed shut. He looks down at you, wolf going crazy. “Help her! HELP HER YOU BIG DUMB OAF CAN’T YOU SEE SHE’S SCARED?!” His wolf whimpered, howled, only making Simon’s heart race more as he tried to form a coherent thought.

“Rosie..” He grunted, patting your face lightly, still clutching you to his body as best as he could, legs on either side of you as he hovered over you on the bed. “Rosie, lovie, wake up-wake up, lovie..” He patted your face, again, a little harder this time and your eyes finally fluttered, looking up at him.

“S’mon?” You whispered, hands clutching the chest of his tank top from where your arms were trapped between the both of your bodies, unable to move with his weight pressed against yours. “Had a bad dream..”

He sighs, head leaning down so his forehead is touching yours, noses brushing against each other. “I know, lovie, i know.” He says after a moment, shifting his body so that you’re laying on top of him, using his chest and shoulders as a pillow, legs entwined with his own. All thoughts of breeding you gone and out the window for now, his only thought and instinct to keep you safe. “Not goin’ anywhere okay? Gonna stay right

‘ere an’ keep you safe..”

And he did, letting you doze back off on top of him, his mind still reeling as he tried to imagine exactly what had happened in that head of yours to make you scream with such terror, to have you so scared that he could feel your body shaking. He wanted, no he needed to know so that he could make sure you were never scared of it again. So he could take it and obliterate it for ever making you feel anything but safe under the same roof as him.

Eventually, his wolf and his mind calmed down and he was able to lull himself into a light sleep of his own, his arms not moving from around you.

You wake to a warmth spread from your head to your toes, a dampness to your skin that had you wriggling out of your sleep shirt with eyes closed still, not registering the soft body beneath you until you went to plop your head back down and it didn’t sink into the soft down of your pillow, but the scraggly hairs of a muscular, wide chest that was poking out of the top of a gray tank top, the kind a man would wear under his tshirt if he wanted the extra layers, or sleep in, you supposed. You knew immediately that it was Simon and as if on cue your wolf fought her way to to the front of your mind, your aching cunt clenching around nothing but your sopping panties as you realized that your mound wasn’t too far from where his cock would be, your leg thrown over his waist, held there by one of his large, meaty hands gripping your equally meaty thigh.

“Look at him, our pretty Alpha..so handsome, so strong..” She wasn’t wrong, he was pretty. His skull mask was nowhere to be found, and to say it was strange to not see it adorned on his face would be an understatement, but it wasn’t unwelcomed. “Want to give him pretty little pups, let him fill us, please, please, please! I’ll be so good! I promise!” You groan, trying to shut her voice out, though it was hard to do. At this stage, your mind belonged to her, this was her time, and you had always let it be, but you hadn’t had an Alpha home during your heat in..awhile.

You let your eyes roam over his face for a while, failing to notice the way his breathing changes as he fully wakes up, aware of your gaze. He has such a strong jaw, a strong, handsome face, sweet looking even, you would say, despite the scars lingering along his pale skin. Your lips quiver at the realization that someone had probably put them there and that thought alone made you want to cry because how could anyone ever want to hurt this perfect specimen of an alpha? His nose is terribly crooked, as if it had been broken on more than one occasion..you would know, yours had been broken at least three times that you remembered. You wanted to sit on it. To feel his nose brush against your aching, throbbing clit, to feel his scruff of a beard that had grown over night against the apex of your thighs, leaving beard burn as he fucks you with his wet, strong tongue.

You don’t notice that your hips are bucking against the side of his hard stomach, don’t realize you’ve whimpered until his hand squeezes your thigh, fingers marking the skin from the way that he grips at it, brown eyes suddenly shot open and staring you down, full lips tugged into a wicked smirk.

“Easy there, babygirl..” He grunts, voice thick and raspy after not having used it for a bit.

You pout at his words, wolf whimpering. The desperate noise leaves your throat and you feel no shame as your hips buck again, needing the friction.

“Hurts Si’..” You whimper, not giving a damn to ask why he was in your bed in the first place. You remembered having a nightmare, remembered him vaguely waking you from it. You assume he had stayed to make sure you were okay. “Need you..need you to help me, Simon..please?”

He closes his own eyes at your words, fingers digging further into the fat of your thigh, as if he’s trying to control himself. You don’t want him to, you want hm to lose control, to use you in any way he saw fit, you wouldn’t fight him, would be as pliable for him as you could possibly be, you just wanted to breathe in his scent, suck his cock into your aching pussy for a bit..like a chew toy for the wolf taking over your mind.

You can’t help but to giggle for a second at the thought, you couldn’t help but to think that his cock was probably big enough to pose as a chew toy anyway, no way you could get your mouth all the way around it if he let suck it.

“Rosi-”

“Simonnn” You preen, pouting at him and you can just feel the resolve break. Oh! What a good Alpha, not making us beg! “Please help me..hurts..need you so bad..please!”

A growl bubbles in his chest and you could how in excitement knowing you’ve won, “Fine!” Knowing he’s about to bully his cock into your cunt until he’s had his fill, until you’re crying and begging him for more, until he’s knocked you up good with one of his little blonde pups- “But i’m not going to fuck you,” A whine as you pout and you watch his eyes widen, watch him fight with himself for a second as he shakes his head, as if shutting up that voice that you know he hears too. “No-don’t do that babygirl..You listen to me now.” The sternness in his voice catches your attention, your cunt pulsing at the way it radiates through you. “I want to fuck you so bad, lovie, want to sit you on my cock for fuckin’ hours, believe me, it’s all ‘ve been able to think about since I walked into that garden..but I can’t do it when you’re not all the way there, when you’re delirious in heat..” A pout that damn near breaks him, that definitely breaks the wolf in his head, howling ricocheting in his ears as he tries to talk. “I’m going to fuck you, lovie, but not until your heat is done, yeah? Don’t worry babygirl, m’still gonna help you though, know it hurts, baby, know you need my help..”

You hadn’t realized he had bunched the waistband of your panties in his hand until then, letting go of your thigh to pull at the seam of the fabric, ripping it apart and tugging it from your mound. You watch with wide eyes as he brings the soaked cotton to his crooked nose, closing his eyes as he takes a long sniff, a deep growl radiating through the room as he opens his eyes, staring straight into yours as his fist clenches around your panties.

“Cm’ere, babygirl.” He grunts, pulling at you so that you’re sitting directly on his chest, pussy leaving a wet swatch in his chest hairs as he squeezes both hips. “Wanna sit on my face, don’t you? Saw the way you were looking at me, know just what you were thinkin’ huh?” You nod your head, but make no move to actually do it. You’re so big? What if you suffocate him? Bitch shut the fuck up and let him eat your fucking pussy, you whiney brat! He’s a big boy, he can fucking take it! You had the random thought that your wolf might actually try and kill you if you didn’t let her enjoy this, if you didn’t swallow your self conscious thoughts and let this glorious man eat you for breakfast. “Aht-aht, stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking-” He pulls your hips so you’re sitting just below his neck now, your hands immediately catching yourself on the headboard, preventing him from pulling you up past his chin. He narrows his eyes at you, you see him shake his head, the firm line his plus lips are set in. A warning to behave and let him be in control. “Don’t-you want this, don’t you..want me to help you? Need me to make it better?”

“Pleas-ungh” In a show of pure strength, he has you fully sat on his face before you can finish the word, warm, thick tongue devouring you as swirls it around your clit, you can’t help the rock of your hips or the way your head throws back as you moan when his tongue teases your aching whole, nose rubbing against your clit the way you imagined it when you tilted your hips.

He groans beneath you, hands splayed on your bare ass cheeks, holding you in place as he grips so hard you’re sure his fingerprints will be permanently indented into your skin, not that you think you’d really mind it. “That’s it lovie, ride my face..”

You didn’t have to be told twice now that you had started. The way his tongue worked you open, the way he held you in place but still let you rut your hips against his face, making a slimy, glistening mess..his stubble brushed against your inner thighs, keeping you grounded from coming on the spot, though it doesn’t last for long. He’s got you coming within moments, skilled tongue going between clit and your pulsing hole, giving you what you needed as you rocked back and forth, taking what you wanted. “Tha’s a good girl, lovie..give me one more?”

You’re not sure how many ‘one more’s’ you give him, but by the time he’s got you on the brink of over stimulation, he’s got his whole tongue buried in your hole, his teeth nibbling at your clit as you buck and tremble, tears brimming your eyes as you grip his hair in each hand, tugging harshly. His hands pushed up your shirt, exposing your soft, pudgy belly to him as he squeezed your tits in each of his large palms, fingers playing with your nipples as he fucks you with his mouth, cries and whimpers leaving your own.

“Si-oh-mm, please! I can-so good, feel’s so good!” You’re a babbling mess, cheeks red as your thighs shake, still clenched around his head. He’s been at it for almost an hour and you swear he’s barely come up from air, he’s barely let you move off of his face for more than a moment, his mouth leaving your cunt only to praise you or bite into meat of your thighs, leaving a harsh imprint of his mouth, a reminder that this is in fact real. You’re on the brink of another when you realize that this one feels different, feels almost painful, even. “Si-mo-n, si-ugh-umf..hur-urts…” You screech out, swatting at the top of his head, he only grunts, pulling you down farther onto his mouth, his hands going back to grip your tighs, leaving your precious tits unattended as he does, holding you there as he brings another harsh bite to your clit, sending you over the edge. “Simon!” You shout, vision going blurry as something snaps in your lower belly, a gush of fluid coming from your cunt that has your cheeks heating as Simon groans out below you, lapping it up as quickly as it comes out, slurping even as he continues to make out with your pussy as you slouch against the headboard, being sure to avoid your overly sensitive clit as he does, leaving open mouthed kisses to your mound that honestly could have had you coming again if you weren’t entirely fucked out just from his mouth. How many was that? Five? Six?

“You okay up there babygirl?” His voice is thick and raspy, sexy as he peeks up at you from between your still shaking legs. All you can do is nod meekly, unsure of what to say, mind oddly quiet as you pant out breaths, trying to come down from such an epic high. “Squirted al’over me lovie, legs are still shakin’” He’s chuckling at you, big warm hands rubbing your thighs in an effort to soothe the shaking.

“M’sleepy, si’” You whimper out, still sagged against the headboard, mind gone numb, legs gone soft, heat and wolf satiated for the time being.

“Yeah?” He asks, voice soft as he sits up slowly, sliding you down his body. Your clit catches on his chest hairs and the fabric of his now soaked tank top on the way down and your hips jumps, your whimper ringing out as he shushes you, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. “Need’ta nap baby?”

Your eyes are already closing before you can get the words out, before you can even nod your head, you barely register the way his lips kiss the side of your head as he leans back with you in his arms, the way his scent floods your senses, easing you into an easy slumber, as if that had been his plan all along. The last thing you remember before sleep takes you completely is wondering what the hell you had gotten yourself into with him..

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captain-huggy-bear · 4 hours ago

Text

In Your Element

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Quinn finally gets an opportunity to each lunch with you at your school, but he arrives a little early and sees a different side to you, when you're absolutely in your element.

Notes: This was a request which I very much enjoyed writing, so thank you:

'For Quinn x teacher reader you could do Quinn going to eat lunch with her at school and getting there early on accident and just admiring her teaching and her getting along with her students and then getting home and just telling her how much he admires her and loves her and wants to marry her'

Not me researching Canadian school grades and ages because it is not the same in the UK (Grade 11 is age 16-17, where as year 11 in the UK is age 15-16 and also the final year of secondary for us)

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

Most days Quinn doesn't get a chance to go and visit you at work and he'd never had the opportunity to sit and eat lunch with you during the school day. After all, you were busy and so was he. You had maybe 40 minutes in a day to sit down and eat, then if he subtracted the time in that 40 minutes you needed to tidy your room, put books out for your next class, write the title on the board, sort your powerpoint out and then pee, plus dealing with any dramas your students brought to your door? Well, you probably had 10 minutes to eat...and he, well, how often was he actually available at that specific time of day? It was like ships in the night sometimes, both having highly busy careers in different ways, but you made it work. Partly by taking any moments that you could find and utilising them, both of you had to learn to be a bit more spontaneous and flexible.

Something that was easier said sometimes than done, but your desire to see each other had a way of making bending easier than breaking. It helped that you'd moved in with him before the season started, so at least he saw you at night and in the early hours of the morning.

Today was different, an odd day where the stars had seemingly aligned. Quinn had a free 2 hours in his day just at the right time for lunch with you and you had a free period after lunch which meant you didn't have to spend all your lunch break sorting stuff out for your next lesson. So, you'd agreed to tell the office he'd be visiting and he agreed to bring your favourite sandwich from your favourite deli along with other goodies for you to snack on.

The problem was Quinn hadn't expected to be 20 minutes early, Vancouver traffic being almost non-existent (which was a rarity) and the deli having absolutely no one inside despite it being lunch time (he briefly considered that the zombie apocalypse might have happened at that point). Being 20 minutes early meant he didn't really have anything to do. At first he assumed he'd have to simply wait in the office, but Maria on reception just gave him his visitors badge and walked him to your classroom, ushering him away from the uncomfortable visitors seats.

Your door is shut to keep the noise of the corridor out of your classroom. From the small window in the door Quinn can see the way your 11th graders sit in various states of focus, you're leant against your desk at the front, hands moving as you talk to them. There's something about how relaxed you are at the front of the classroom, the way you seem to be in your element that hits him. He's never seen you teach a lesson before and it strikes him that it seems right, like it's where you're supposed to be.

Maria knocks on the door and he watches as you pause, telling your students something before setting a timer on the board. Watching for a second to make sure they were all on task before walking to the door and reaching for the handle, your face a picture of surprise at seeing him here early.

"Mr Hughes is here to see you, I thought he could sit in the back or help you with the last little bit of lesson."

"Thank you, Maria I'm sure we'll figure it out." You smile warmly at Maria and it strikes him that you probably know all about her, that you've probably spent time with her at the staff Christmas party and eaten lunch together. It hits him that there are people you see every day that he has no idea about because your worlds simply don't cross that often. You know his team mates but does he really know your colleagues? He suddenly feels very out of place.

"You are early." You give him a look that makes him smile sheepishly at you, raising the bag of sandwiches as if that would solve the problem. Still you let him into your classroom, your students narrowing their eyes at the new face before promptly widening at who just walked into their classroom. Still they don't say anything, like you've taught them better, heads down as they continue writing an answer to the question on the board. A timer ticking down the remaining couple of minutes left.

He drops the bag onto your desk before you point to a spare seat at the back, "You can watch if you want...sorry, it might be boring."

"I don't think anything you could do would be boring." He knows the way he's looking at you is probably a little much for a classroom, he can't help it though. You're so pretty in your teacher clothes, there's a different sort of confidence rolling off you, you own the room and it's attractive, the way you command the room even when you're not overtly doing anything.

A quiet little murmur runs through the class at his statement, a few raised eyebrows and David lets out a little 'ohhhh' that you hush with a sharp look. Even that is hot, the fact a single look from you has a teenage boy shutting up, Quinn's rarely seen you like this, in complete and total control, effortlessly. In your pairing you're usually the one who follows while he leads. He orders your drink at a coffee shop or initiates a kiss, this is a different you.

"Go to your seat, Mr Hughes." The raised eyebrow does it for him as well and he thinks if he had to actually respond he'd have stuttered, instead he choses to follow your directions, trying desperately not to look utterly devoted to you in front of a bunch of teenagers.

He forgot how uncomfortable classroom chairs were, still he uses it as a chance to watch from the back corner. You wander the room, green pen in hand for the remaining time on the timer, writing notes on students' work and giving direction here and there. A few times you give warnings to students who haven't worked hard enough, but there's a general sense that this group of students work for you because they respect you. Even the kids who clearly aren't the most academic seem to try for you.

The timer is blaring when it goes off, some sort of lute sound that you clearly picked because it was mildly medieval and fit the vibe of your history classroom. It's ridiculous but it also describes you perfectly, those elements of quirkiness and fun that fit in even into a classroom where students write paragraphs and complete work. Like you have a balance perfectly set.

"Right, times up, so put your pens down..." You march to the front in quick time, nabbing a flashlight that one of your students was playing with at the front before they could even protest, slipping it into your pocket. It's impressive, the way you seem to have eyes on every corner of the classroom, the way you notice things that Quinn definitely would not have.

The student in question puts his hand up in the air and you call on him as if it was expected, "Yes, Rory?"

"Can I have it back at the end?"

"Yes, Rory, you can have it back at the end." It's interesting, the way that that is enough. That Rory seems to respect that it shouldn't have been out, doesn't try to argue that you shouldn't have taken it, but trusts that he'll get it back enough not to press they issue. Quinn's pretty sure Miller has argued with him more over lesser things before.

"Who can explain to me then how war has had an impact on medical development? Bonus points, potentially getting the bonus point duck for the rest of lesson, if you can give me concrete examples from our unit." He's close to putting his hand up to ask about the bonus point duck when you reach into your desk drawer and pull out a rubber duck dressed as Henry VIII.

It's in that moment that Quinn realises he does not know as much about you as he thought. He knew you. He knew the woman he called his girlfriend who couldn't sleep with her feet outside of the bed covers and absolutely had to have the shower on the highest heat setting, but he didn't know teacher you. Never in his life had you mentioned a bonus point duck, never would he have predicted that that was something you even had in your classroom and it's utterly ridiculous and shouldn't motivate a bunch of teenagers at all and yet, suddenly there were 20 hands in the air, a few calling out as if that would make you pick them quicker.

He watches the way you smile, the scan of your eyes over each, the way you bypass those not meeting your expectations until they correct themselves and then you pick a student that Quinn would likely not have picked, a student he knows his history teacher in school would have avoided.

When he thinks of picking a student to answer there are two modes he thinks of from his own high school career:

The one without their hand up, who doesn't look like their listening, the one a teacher wants to catch out

The student who is clearly a nerd, clearly good at the subject and will clearly given an impressive answer, the easy kid to pick

You pick neither. Instead, you go straight to a girl with her hand up but with thick blonde hair extensions in and enough gum in her mouth that Quinn can hear it smack from here. The stereotypical popular girl who probably doesn't care much about school and would rather be at the mall.

"Angel?"

"Well, it's like when there's a war on like World War One then all the government care about is winning the war, right?"

You nod in encouragement and it hits him that you picked Angel for a reason. That you picked a student who likely doesn't like school, likely gets discouraged but who you know can answer and get a confidence boost. It's smart, he does something similar with rookies, where he gives them a chance to do something so he can boost their confidence, can build a relationship with them. Suddenly captaincy and teaching seem awfully similar, minus the gum and the smell of Lynx Africa.

"So like if they don't improve medicine then all their soldiers just die, right? Either outright or later because of like infection like why they funded Florey and Chain to mass produce penicillin in World War Two or like why people were so into the leg splint thing in 1916. So, the governments put more money into medicine because that means soldiers live longer and can get sent back to war and then they can win the war because they still have men alive, but like if they all die you're going to lose the war, duh."

"Beautiful answer and a few specific examples in there, you have earned the duck," You smile widely at her as you walk to plop the rubber duck on her desk and he can see it, the way she seems to puff up in pride, the way a student who maybe would have hated History is engaged because of you.

He's pretty sure he just fell a little bit more in love with you.

"Yo, Miss?"

You sigh a deep sigh as if this interruption is expected, stopping mid walk back to the front of your classroom and turning on your heel, "Yes, David?" Your voice is mildly amused, not impatient or frustrated like Quinn would expect.

"Why ducks?" There's a beat of silence and Quinn watches the way you just stare at David, eyebrows high on your forehead like your considering whether you'll actually treat the question seriously or not.

Then a big smile crosses your lips like you're laughing at yourself before you even say the punch line to a joke. A silly little smile that is so his girlfriend that suddenly both versions of yourself seem to merge together.

"Because ducks fly together."

"C'mon, Miss! Really? Did you seriously just quote the Mighty Ducks when a hockey legend is in the room?" It's your patience with David that smacks Quinn in the face. You could have given him a detention by now or told him off for disrupting your lesson, but you're not. Like you're confident you can bring it back to the lesson soon enough. It makes him wonder if you'd be that patient with your kids, if he's seeing a little glimpse into a possible future where you're this patient with the kids you have with him.

"Well, maybe we should ask the 'hockey legend' what he thinks of my jokes? Mr Hughes?" You ask him because you know he'll back you up, and it's that sense of being needed that makes him sit up a little straighter in the chair he's in and smile widely like he's scored a goal.

"Hilarious as always, although maybe you need a bonus point orca?"

"Oh, do I? The duck not good enough?" There's a little glint in your eye, the one you always get when you're teasing him, playful. It feels like the rest of the world disappears, falls away, like you're the only two people in the room.

"Seems a little too Anaheim like for my taste,"

"You would say that, no taste." As if you're a Anaheim fan when you are in fact a Canucks fan through and through, but you know the statement will get a little rise out of Quinn. You can see the way his brow twitches at the suggestion that you'd pick the Ducks over the Canucks, the sense of male pride being slighted.

"Miss, stop flirting with Quinn Hughes!" It's David, it's always David. David with a wide grin that shows off his braces, David who's waggling his eyebrows at you, typical teenage boy behaviour really but it stumps you. Quinn can see that it stumps you.

There's a beat of silence, like your brain is trying to process what's just happened, and for the first time you're off your game, flustered, a little taken aback like you didn't expect it to go this far. But, then, Quinn was never in your classroom while you taught, never there for you to banter with in front of students. Quinn had proven to be a distraction, a disruptive presence if you will.

Your choice of tactic is perhaps not the best nor the most smooth, but simply to turn back to your powerpoint plastered on the board and pretend that it simply hadn't happened. To move on.

"Anyway, back to medicine," Your voice is a little unsteady, a little less controlled and Quinn feels slightly bad that he put you off your game, but admires the way you push forward.

You turn the slide on your powerpoint, an old cartoon springing up on the board, "I'm going to give you a copy of this source from 1847 about anaesthetic and I want you to analyse it like we've been practicing. If you can do this properly in 8 minutes then I will let you ask Mr Hughes some questions..." You pause briefly, looking directly at David, "Appropriate questions."

There's a bubble of excitement that sees students volunteering to help you hand out glues and copies of the source before all heads hit the desks, hands moving ferociously across the paper while 8 minutes ticks down on the clock. Just like that you've got them back on track and it is utterly impressive, how you managed to completely save a lesson that he'd accidently ruined for you.

You both survive the few minutes of questions at the end, David only asking a few minorly inappropriate ones which Quinn fields with his usual tactic of say nothing and refuse to answer. By the end he's not entirely sure how you handle being questioned all day by hundreds of teenagers and Quinn's a lot more sympathetic to your reluctance to make decisions when you get home after a long day of teaching. He gets it now.

"Have a good lunch, everybody!" You wave the last of your students off at the door, shutting it the moment they're all out and letting out a massive sigh of relief, shoulders slumping.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired." The unspoken is there. That your job is hardwork, that getting kids in the modern age to focus on anything for more than 60 seconds might look easier to the outsider but takes more brainpower and more routines and techniques than you can shake a stick at.

Quinn decides to leave it for the moment, you probably don't want to spend your entire lunch break talking about teaching and he's ultimately here to see his baby, not talk about education.

"Sit, I got your favourite," He's guiding you gently, hands on your shoulders to your comfy desk chair, the one he hasn't seen you sit down in at all. You let him force you to sit down, let him sort out your sandwich placing it in front of you with a napkin and your favourite packet of crisps with your favourite drink to boot. It's a little thing but the way he sets it out in front of you, the way he takes care of you helps ease a little bit of the strain of the day.

"Thank you for coming and having lunch with me," You reach for half of your sandwich, exactly as you like it down to the type of bread used, watching as Quinn pulls one of the desks closer to you so he's not so far away. His own sandwich being pulled from the brown paper bag.

"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to see my girl, who's looking extra pretty today by the way." You almost choke on the first bite of your sandwich, cheeks warming even as you cough and roll your eyes at him. Feeling decidedly unattractive after nearly choking on bread.

"You are such a suck up!"

"Oh, so I can't compliment my girlfriend now? That's sucking up? I'm just stating facts. The sky is blue, water is clear and my girlfriend is gorgeous."

"Quinn!" You laugh at him and it's the most beautiful thing he's seen all day. The way your face lights up, eyes crinkling as you twist your head away from him because of how ridiculous you think he's being. When you laugh he can't help it, it makes him grin, teeth on show, sandwich half forgotten in front of him.

"And she can't take a compliment to save her life."

The two of you fall into a comfortable sort of routine, taking bites of your lunches while interspersing eating with conversation about his upcoming roadie and what you're going to send to your mum for her birthday.

He doesn't say anything about your teaching, doesn't even bring up the bonus point duck because he doesn't want to take up your few precious non-teacher minutes with it...and also because he's pretty certain 40 minutes is not enough time for all the things he's thinking.

How does one condense down how much they admire their partner? How does he talk briefly about how utterly amazing you are at your job and how he can't wait to marry you, to have kids with you, to see you be just as patient, just as amazing with them? He can't, so he decides to leave it til later.

He doesn't just eat lunch with you before he leaves the school though, Quinn, ever determined to make your life easier helps you tidy up your classroom and fix a display board that you couldn't reach the top corner of. You can't help but admire him as he stretches up up to staple a bit of border roll back in place, the muscles of his back flexing underneath his t-shirt, the way his hair falls effortlessly across his forehead. It's weird seeing him in this environment, your environment but you can't help but think that he fits in it, like it suits him to be helping in a classroom. Maybe in a different life he'd have been a teacher or maybe you were just waxing poetic in your head.

You walk him out to his car once your done, even though you should be using this time to plan, you can't help but try to get as many moments with him as possible, any little bit of time precious.

"I'll see you at home later?" You ask just in case he'd planned something with the team, fingers twined with Quinn's as you stand by his car.

"Yeah, I should be home already when you get in, figured i'd cook dinner tonight." He wants to make it nice for you, special, because he knows you're going to shy away from his compliments, his admiration...but he feels like he has a lot to say. Good stuff, but a lot and he wants you in a good mood, more receptive.

"Mmm, anything good?"

"Your favourite." You think about the spicy noodle dish he's perfected cooking, the little spring onions on top, the warming broth and it makes you feel almost hungry despite having just eaten lunch.

"And what did I do to deserve this treatment?" You tug him closer by the hands, tilting your head back to look up at him with a sweet smile that makes his heart race just a little bit faster. You're so pretty without even trying.

"Just being yourself, baby." Quinn breaches the distance between the two of you, leaning down to close the remaining space, lips pressing to yours gently, once, twice, a third time because he can't help himself, "Have a good rest of your day and I'll see you later, sweetheart"

Quinn presses one more kiss to your lips, a longer one that lingers, a force behind it that almost takes you off guard, your hands reaching up to grip at the edges of his jacket.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath, just long enough for Quinn to notice and smirk about it, to find it cute that he can still make you react like that.

"Bye, I love you." You force yourself to pull away, watching as he steps into the car.

"I love you too." You watch Quinn's car roll out of the school car park, wave back at him when he turns to look at you from the driver's seat before he's completely gone, before heading back instead to finish off your day.

The rest of your day goes relatively smoothly bar the incident in which a student decided to swallow a battery he had in his backpack to see what would happen, resulting in him being taken to hospital and your last class of the day being unable to focus on anything but that. Still as days go it was relatively stress free and made ten times better when you walked into the apartment to the smell of Quinn's world famous spicy noodles and the way he'd set up the dining table with some candles just to make things sweeter. The lights in the apartment dim and romantic feeling.

He's stirring the dish when you get to the kitchen area, back to you, but head turned at the sound of your feet padding towards him. You don't hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing your cheek into the centre of his back. Quinn leans back into you with a hum.

"You've really gone all out, huh?" You mumble it into his shirt, moving with him as he takes the pan off the heat and carries it towards the two bowls already laid out on the side. Shuffling alongside him determined to stay close to his warmth despite how inconvenient it was.

"Wanted to surprise you, now get off me and sit your cute ass down." You do as your told, jumping a little at the light swat Quinn gives to your arse as you move away from him. You turn to glare at him as if you're offended even though you both know you'd let him slap your arse whenever he wanted if he just asked.

Quinn serves you first, placing your bowl in front of you with a glass of your favourite thing to drink at dinner before grabbing his own noodles and sitting across from you.

At first it's quiet, the two of you more focused on eating than talking, but every now and then you look up to see Quinn staring at you as if he has something he wants to say. You choose not to rush him, both of you finishing your dinner before you insist that you put the dishes in the dishwasher since he cooked. Still he doesn't say anything and you don't push him.

It's not until he drags you to the couch, pulling you to curl up next to him while some movie plays in the background that he finally speaks his mind.

"You were amazing today..." You're tucked under Quinn's arm, his hand resting on your arm as you press your cheek into his shoulder, soft eyes looking up at him from under your lashes.

"Mm? What at work?"

"Yeah." You let him think for a minute, knowing he has more to say but clearly trying to figure out how he goes about saying it, his fingers tracing light circles on your arm. "I've never seen you like that...so in your element..."

There's a pause in which he shifts, pulling your legs over his lap, other hand gripping your calf. It's the most natural movement in the world, a touch neither of you even think twice about. "The kids love you. You got kids who probably hate school to willing write paragraphs for you and...you're so, so confident in that room, baby..."

"I'm just doing my job..." You hide your face in his shirt for moment, feeling that familiar bashfulness come to the surface. You've never been good at accepting compliments, even from Quinn, and now is no exception even as his words fill you with a giddy kind of happiness.

"I know but...the way you just knew you had it, even when someone was off topic, you knew you could get it back on track, that was so fucking attractive and even the silly things, like the duck!" Your head shoots up so fast at the mention of the duck that you almost knock his chin with the top of your head, the look you give him is nothing short of confused.

"The duck is attractive?"

"Not the duck exactly, but the fact that you wanted to make History fun but also still make sure they're actually learning...and, and it was so you, y'now? So silly but endearing and...I don't know..." Quinn looks away from you, red flush high on his cheeks as he starts to regret ever saying anything, feeling mildly embarrassed about how into you he is. Which he knows is ridiculous because he should be into his girlfriend.

"You don't know? Sounds like you do, you're just embarrassed about how much you love me." You tease him, hand cupping his cheek to get him to face you again, even when he's embarrassed he can't help but lean into your touch a little more, cheek pressed fully into your palm.

"I do love you...watching you teach was like seeing our future."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I thought..." There's that hesitancy again, flush bright on his skin, lip being bitten between his teeth. It's like he's worried he'll mess up if he speaks his mind, which is ridiculous because you love him so much you're not sure anything he could say would change that.

"You can't put me off, Quinn, if you're worried about saying the wrong thing...i'm too in deep to be put off, so, you thought?"

You wait, oh so patient, while he assesses you, judges whether you're telling the truth. Like he needs to double check that you're correct when you say you're in too deep.

"I was just thinking about how you're so patient with your students and how patient you'll be with our kids, y'know?"

"Our kids?" There's a giddy little sensation of butterflies flipping in your stomach, eyes widening in delight at the mention because how many relationships have you had where your exes refused to even consider children, where they didn't want that with you?

"Well, yeah, I'm going to marry you one day." It's so matter of fact as if he'd just said he was going shopping tomorrow or had a game on Saturday. A statement of objective truth as if there was no other option, no other outcome.

"Oh, you are?"

"If you let me. If you don't? I'm never going to marry anyone." You pull back from him, just enough to look at him, mouth slightly dropped open. He's dead serious, lips pursed, brows furrowed.

"Quinn."

"I mean it. I love you, you're so fucking amazing and I...seeing you in your element today made me realise how impossible it would be for me to fall in love with anyone else, to marry anyone else, to have a family with anyone else. I don't want anyone but you."

You let out a shaky breath, smile watery but pleased, full of love and affection.

"I...I guess it's a good thing then that I want to marry you one day. Can't have you dying alone, that would be sad." You're trying to lighten the mood, but the truth is you're so deeply touched, so in love with him that you hope he means it. If he breaks up with you, you're certain it'll break you for good because you were certain he was it for you too.

"Just to be clear this isn't a proposal, you're getting a proper proposal and it will be a surprise."

"You think you're sneaky enough to keep it secret?" Your arms wrap around his neck as the two of you shift, fingers playing with the dark curls at the nape of his neck.

"I think if I want something enough, i'll get it." Quinn's voice lowers in that way that has you raising your brows, cheeks warming as smirks down at you, green eyes peering at you from underneath unfairly long lashes.

"Oh?"

"Oh." You lean back against the couch, lowering yourself flat as Quinn crawls his way over you, arms bracketing your head on the couch beneath you. You reach a hand up to cup his jaw, scruff rough against your palm, the air around you feels charged.

He's the first to move, wasting little time before lowering his lips to yours. A soft press that deepens as your arms drag him closer, fingers curling in his hair tight. You're working on instinct when Quinn's tongue swipes across your bottom lip begging for entry, opening up for him as your legs wrap around his hips.

In that moment you are so very glad that you're never going to have to know what life is like without Quinn Hughes. That you'll always get to revel in the way he presses his whole weight onto you, the way his breath wavers when he pulls back just to catch his breath before diving back into you.

Maybe you're just lucky or maybe fate intervened, but you are so fucking glad you met Quinn Hughes and so fucking glad that he decided a random History teacher was more than enough for him for the rest of his life.

#huggy bear writes #quinn hughes/reader #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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thehollowwriter · 11 hours ago

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Ayo just wanna add my two cents here

The reason Arcane season 1 was so well written and incredible at show don't tell is because it balanced it with properly explaining things to the audience via character dialogue and whatnot. There were lots of people who didn't understand what was going on because they didn't get tons of exposition, sure, but that doesn't mean show don't tell can't be done poorly nor does it mean plotholes or inconsistency or criticism can be waved off with "show don't tell"

Show don't tell is a writing *tool*. A TOOL to help you tell a part of the story or piece of information in a more concise, less clunky way. It can help you understand characters emotions or feelings without using words. A character doesn't need to sit and say "wow he sacrificed himself for us" because the audience understands that already without dialogue. Show don't tell is an excellent tool when dialogue isn't necessary to understand what's happening.

It is not the only way to tell a story. And you cannot properly tell a story at all without some form of tell. That's how storytelling works.

Plot points and conflicts that came out of nowhere? Random character choices that make no sense? Put of character behaviour? Those are not "It's show don't tell you didn't nust pay attention" problems. Those are basic storytelling problems. It's one thing if some people didn't pay attention to what was being told, but entirely another if nothing is being shown. If there is something that's being shown? It doesn't help if it's hard to find or nonsensical.

Subtext is fantastic, but you are not telling the story well if I have to micro focus on a character's brief expression in the background of a flashback scene to understand a current plotpoint or character motivation. (A bit of an exaggeration, but you get my point). You can't have subtext if there is no text or if the text is impossible to read.

And also subtext means nothing if there's a legitimate plothole or poor writing or lack of character motivation. As op said, the word document is blank! The text is a scrambled mess! Or nobody thought to make sure the text made sense in context of the plot or characters. The text forgot what character it exists for!

Furthermore, sure, while a lot of criticism towards Arcane Season 1 was bad faith and due to poor media comprehension, that doesn't mean every possible criticism is wrong because of "lack of media literacy."

Yes Arcane is great. But it's not above criticism. It's not flawless. And trying to frame people who criticise it as media illiterate or homophobic or whatever is just stupid. Especially since part of media literacy is engaging CRITICALLY with a piece of media.

Show don't tell is a good writing tool, but it's not the only way to tell a good story nor does it automatically make a story good. And just because the last season did subtext well doesn't mean this one did either.

Think about it like this. Can I understand what's going on or what a character is thinking or intends to do without dialogue? If the answer is yes, then go right ahead with show don't tell. If the answer is no or "yeah but only if you look through it frame by frame" then you either need some dialogue or better hints.

Show don't tell only works if there is actually something being shown that can be understood without dialogue. Arcane Season 2 did not do show don't tell well, if they did it at all.

"You want everything spoonfed" sir, the plate is empty. We're starving

"It's about subtext!" sir, the microsoft word file is blank

"The microexpressions!" sir, that was a micro-microexpression

"Show don't tell!" sir, the theater is closing, there is no show

#sorry for the ramble op #damn i get my internet back and immediately write an essay/hj #quinn quips #quinn reblogs #not twst #arcane #arcane critical

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ciaradream8 · 2 days ago

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Where Are You?

A/N: So I wrote this to let off some steam because Zayne didn't come home. I lost the 50/50 badly! I usually write fanfic in private, but I never posted before so this is a first for me. Please keep in mind that I really didn't proof read cuz like I said I was just letting off steam. I WAITED TIL MIDNIGHT OF THE NEW YEAR FOR THIS MAN AND I LOST THE 50/50. The fact that this was the anniversary is what hurt most :') I was so excited too. I apologize for being too dramatic in this haha. Also, sorry for the terrible writing.

Warning: Angst

Words: 1.5K

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A sigh escaped my lips after taking a quick glance at my phone for what might be the millionth time. It was a half hour before the new year came. I glanced at the counter where I had made the homemade macarons specifically for a special doctor I had kept close to my heart.

Zayne. Where are you?

Zayne and I made plans together for the new year. We just wanted it to be the two of us. I had it all in my head; make dinner together, watch him eat the macarons I made, steal one from him after he took a bite as we wait for the countdown for the new year, countdown, gaze into each others eyes with the fireworks in the background, and promise to be together for years to come with a kiss. Nothing could be more perfect than that. Or so I thought.

Surprisingly, the sight of wanderers has been low which meant I mostly did paperwork or took missions outside of Linkon City where I was needed. I was able to get off work on time or Captain Jenna would let us go early as a reward for all the hard work we’ve been doing for our city. I had a bit more free time which was a luxury. Zayne, on the other hand, was more busy than ever. He would always try to respond to my texts as fast as he could, but I knew he was doing what he does best and that was to save lives. Yet it’s been different lately.

Zayne rarely responds to my messages now and every time we go out or we visit each other’s places he takes out his laptop to do work. I call out to him, but he always says “I’m almost done. Just give me a minute.” Then he started to sound a bit annoyed with me. I stopped asking him to hang out for a while, but I found the courage to invite him for new year’s eve a few days ago:

“Are you going to work on new year’s eve?” I asked him over the phone.

“No. I have the day off unless I am called for an emergency. Why?” He asked.

“Um…” I took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you wanted to spend it with me. That’s all. It’s been a while since we had a date after all.”

There was a pause over the phone. I bit my lip out of nerves and was worried he would say no. This would be our first new year’s together and a week after that it would be our first anniversary as a couple. After another moment of silence I heard him speak.

“It has been a while. I hadn’t noticed. I’m sorry if I made you feel sad.” He said. I could hear his tone. He sounded guilty.

“Oh! It’s okay. You’ve been busy after all.” I awkwardly laughed. I didn’t want my true feelings out. A part of me felt sad that I hadn’t seen him, but another part of me was angry because of the tone of annoyance in his tone of the last time we spent together. He told me I was in the way and that he had to focus. Yet I was the one to apologize and made up an excuse to leave.

“No, it’s not. In fact, why don’t we celebrate our anniversary that day as well?” He said.

“Isn’t our anniversary the week after?”

“It is, but I want to make it up to you. I could wear that butler outfit with the cat ears you bought not long after what happened with me being turned into part feline.”

My heart leaped as I smiled. I could feel my body being light as a feather from joy. Since the cat evol incident he always dressed up as a butler with the cat ears to cheer me up whenever I was upset with him. It was a rare yet welcoming occasion.

“Yes! I want to see kitty Zayne again!” I exclaimed.

He chuckled, “Alright now. Settle down. It’s the least I can do for a certain hunter who has been working hard to ensure not only Linkon City’s safety, but other cities as well. Where do you want to celebrate?”

“Just the two of us. My place if that’s okay.”

“Well…”

“I’ll even throw a plate of macarons for a certain doctor who is keeping his patients alive not just in Linkon City, but other cities as well.”

I could hear his smile over the phone, “Well, an offer like that is difficult to turn down. Very well. Your place. I’ll be there at four in the afternoon. We’ll make dinner together and wait for the countdown. Together.”

“Yes. Together. I’ll see you. Take care.” I smiled.

He chuckled, “You as well. I’ll see you then.”

I stared at my phone screen. It was the two of us at the photo booth where we took photos with animals. I remember that day well. I cupped his cheeks, catching him in surprise, while I smirked at the camera. I let out a soft laugh, but this doesn’t make me laugh the way it used to. All I can feel is pain in my heart just by looking at this. I unlocked my phone to see the wallpaper of my homescreen: Zayne kneeling to feed Clopidogrel. I smiled sadly at this until I went back to frowning. Then I looked at the text messages from today.

12:30 - Can’t wait to see you!

5:43 - Was there an emergency at the emergency room? I totally understand if you’re running a bit late. Do what you gotta do doc! You got this!

9:52 - Zayne? Are you okay? Do you need help? Are you hurt? Please tell me you’re okay

11:26 - Zayne? Where are you?

“Where are you, Zayne?” I whispered. I hear the announcer on the television set telling the audience that there was five minutes left on the clock. I used my hands to cradle my head. It took everything in me not to cry. He’ll be here. Even if it’s one minute before midnight. He’ll be here. I thought to myself. Just a small glimmer of hope. I took a deep breath and walked towards the window to look down. His car wasn’t there, but I was waiting for it to show up and for him to come out running to me. Next thing I know, I heard the announcer and the audience behind him counting down.

5…4…3…2…1…Happy New Year!

At that moment I collapsed on the floor and could feel the tears spilling out. No matter how many times I tried to wipe my tears away it wouldn’t stop. It was a never ending stream. “He didn’t come. He didn’t come.” I kept mumbling to myself. Why? Why did this have to happen? Was I no longer good enough? Was he tired of me? Did he only agree to spend New Year's with me so I would stop bothering him? Was this his way of telling me that we were done? So many questions were swirling in my head.

After I was done crying I went to the bathroom to splash water in my face and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were puffy and red from all the crying I did. The worst thing was that I knew I could keep crying. I took a couple of deep breaths without breaking the gaze to myself. I thought of all the memories we made together: going to the amusement park, him kissing my cheek when I got drunk, our first kiss in his car after our third date, him teaching me pool, everything. I clenched my fists and furrowed my brows. No longer did I feel disappointment, but instead I felt anger. I walked to my bedroom to see the two snowmen on my bed. The blue one was him and the red one was me. I picked up the blue one and held it in front of me.

“I devoted myself to you. I couldn’t and still can’t see anyone else for me except you. But if this is how you truly feel then fine. I don’t need you.” I threw the snowman across the room. I went to grab my phone and began typing a message to Zayne:

Next time you want to break up with me at least tell me. Before you lecture me on doing this kind of thing in person let me tell you something. At least I have the decency to let you know SOMEHOW. Unlike some people. Good bye, Dr. Zayne.

My thumb hovered across the sent button. I didn’t want to end it. I was in love with him. But there is no point in being with someone who doesn’t love you back. After a few seconds I finally managed to push send. My emotions were all over the place. I changed my lock screen to a photo of Tara and I after the escape room and changed my home screen to a video game character I liked. I went to my photo album to delete the photos, but I couldn’t do it. That was too far for me. I didn’t have it in me to go that far. I decided to not delete the photos and go to bed with a broken heart. Knowing my love for him would never disappear.

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A/N continuation: So yeah. I'm pretty salty as you can see XD For the time being I'm mad at Dr. Zayne and put him in the doghouse. I might write another part for when I'm no longer upset with him or to continue to be salty. I don't know. Or you could give me a request. Again, sorry for the terrible writing. Didn't proofread it. If you guys give me something I will look back on it carefully I promise. If you have any questions as well ask and I will answer as best as I can. Happy New Year everyone!

#zayne x reader #love and deepspace #lads zayne #doctor zayne

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tyrantisterror · 2 days ago

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At Sea Without a Map Post-Script

After two months of so, my little writing experiment At Sea Without a Map has come to an end. And because I'm vain, I not only felt compelled to share it, but to talk about it in depth after the fact, so here we are. This is going to be long, though, so I'm not only going to break it into sections, but put it all under the cut for the sake of your dashboard. So go ahead and dive into the depths of the Sea of Monsters with me one more time!

Part 1: Never Stop Blowing Up

The writing process of Wizard School Mysteries Book 3 was really strained - not because of the book itself, mind you. When I was actually able to work on it, Book 3 came together really well - I think it required the least substantial rewrites of any my novels thus far. It's just that real life was kind of beating the shit out of me while I was trying to get it done - or maybe the better metaphor was that it was just slowly but steadily draining me of energy all the time. I'm honestly surprised I got the book out in roughly the same amount of time as the first two - by the way life had been treating me, it should have taken longer.

But when I got done with it I was accutely aware of how tired I was. I still had the creative drive, but fuck I needed something simple as a palette cleanser - something easy, and more importantly, something that was allowed to be bad. I needed something creative to do that was surplus to requirements and fully within its rights to suck ass so long as I had fun making it.

Around this time, I decided to rewatch Dimension 20's Never Stop Blowing Up. Brief explanation of what that is: Dimension 20 is an actual play show, i.e. a recording of people playing D&D and other TTRPGs. I'd say its reputation is built on the contrast of its main DM, Brennan Lee Mulligan, who makes these meticulously crafted campaign plans, and his chaotic band of improv comedian players who promptly derail those plans spectacularly. Like, a good deal of the show's humor comes from Emily Ashford or Ally Beardsly doing something so off-the-wall that it shatters whatever the scene was going to be and creates a far more absurd and zany spectacle in its place. Which is why Never Stop Blowing Up is pretty notable, because it's the one campaign where Brennan himself is the agent of chaos, fully unleashing his own brand of madness that the players struggle to keep up with. And fuck does he seem to have fun with it.

Of course, all of the analysis above is purely from the outside looking in - it's likely that a lot of the "chaos" is played up for the audience. But still... there is something to the idea of a person who's been working on meticulously structured stories letting loose and just doing something extremely stupid.

So I decided to give myself a Never Stop Blowing Up moment - a short story that would be simple by design, with no standards to live up to or goal beyond "have fun telling a silly little story." I then came up with a few key criteria:

It can't be set in the Midgaheim/ATOM universe. I don't want the burden of figuring out where this story would fit among others.

It's gotta be a romance. People who've read my books might have picked up on the fact that I like to write about people falling in love, for the same reason I like to write about fire-breathing reptiles and friendly monsters (i.e. I use writing to indulge in things I'll never experience in real life). I've only used romance as subplots in my fiction before, and tend to feel a bit guilty if I focus on it too long - like I'm being self indulgent. Well, this is all about self indulgence, so the romance should be front and center.

It's gotta be SIMPLE, episodic even. Not complex plotting required.

I almost chose my xenomorph romance for this, but I had developed its outline to the point where it would be too complex to fit. I then considered a sort of superhero story that could be pitched as "what if Bringing Up Baby but Katherine Hepburn's character is a Harley Quinn-esque supervillain and Cary Grant's character gets turned into some sort of horrifying genetic mutant in the first ten minutes." That one hit a weird roadblock when I got to the character brainstorming phase (the first phase of any writing project I do) - I was trying to figure out what the mad scientist who turns out Cary Grant-figure into a mutant would be named, came up with the name "Dr. Skullfuck," immediately realized that having a character named "Dr. Skullfuck" is a Mark Millar-ass writing move that I could not allow myself to do, but then couldn't stop thinking of the name "Dr. Skullfuck" and giggling, which just brought all thinking to a grinding halt on that project.

(I'll still probably do it someday, though - just, you know, without Dr. Skullfuck)

Inspiration struck again, though. I'd been getting into Epic: The Musical, a musical retelling of The Odyssey, and it put me in the mood for a sea monster story. But, more than that, it got me thinking about one particular archetype from sea monster stories - but that brings us to the next part of this Post Script...

Part 2: It Was Always About Calibani

Ok, so, one of the big changes Epic: The Musical made involved Odysseus's encounter with the sirens, and before you read more of my rambling, I'd like you to watch two animatics for the two songs in question here:

youtube

A summary: one of the sirens takes the form of Odysseus's wife to try and tempt him into getting in the water, Odysseus tricks her into giving him directions, captures her and the rest of her kind, and proceeds to have his men slaughter them horribly. In the OG story the sirens don't die - nor does their song involve imitating a man's wife, for that matter, it's just a really pretty song.

This is done for an important narrative purpose - Epic: The Musical is focused on analyzing the moral ambiguity of Odysseus, and how it is constantly challenged by the impossible choices he is forced to make in his attempt to get home. At this point in the musical, Odysseus has decided to stop trying to be a compassionate man, shirking all mercy in favor of utter ruthless pursuit of his goals. These two songs are meant to be unsettling as hell - this is the beginning of a series of heartless choices by both Odysseus and his men that will culminate in the mutiny and complete annihilation of Odysseus's crew, as well as Odysseus himself being so hopelessly stranded that nothing short of divine intervention will save him.

I bring this up because when I first heard these two songs - specifically while watching these two animatics - it, like... it devastated me. I was so horrified and sad, so shaken by it. And part of it was for the reasons outlined above, but admittedly that wasn't the gut reaction I had. No, my immediate reaction was, and I quoute my own broken brain verbatim here: "You can't kill the sirens! They're not for killing, they're for loving!"

...now, those of you who know me are probably not surprised by this very stupid sentiment coming from me. One of my more popular posts is just me talking about how down bad I would be for various folkloric monsters whose whole shtick is "looks like a pretty lady but Watch Out." But as a person filled with immense self loathing and doubt, my brain immediately looked at that very stupid sentiment I expressed and said, "Wait, no, that's fucking dumb, I'm fucking dumb. The sirens are remorseless murderers. These sirens in particular preyed upon a man's love for his wife, who he has not seen in twelve years, to convince him to let them kill him. They are, by all standards of morality, Very Fucking Evil, and if they were not women you would not feel bad about them getting killed."

And as my brain argued with itself over this topic, I got to thinking about the various monstrous/othered sea women of The Odyssey - not just the sirens, but the witch Circe, the nymph Calypso, the monsters Scylla and Charybdis. And I thought about the others of their kind in other myths and folktales - selkies, mermaids, etc.

There's an archetype of sea monster that focuses entirely on one specific anxiety sailors are prone to, namely the fact that (for a good deal of human history) being on a boat meant spending a lot of time away from women. The horror of this monster is how it uses that desire for female company to tempt people into danger - like a mirage, it leads you to expose yourself to danger in pursuit of an illusory comfort.

But, unlike real world mirages, these monstrous sea women DO exist in their stories. More than that, they're often, like, sad and lonely. Their narrative purpose is just to be a temptation, but that doesn't change the fact that they do have lives of their own in these worlds. And, softie that I am, I can't help feeling sad for them, especially the ones who actually seem to want the same companionship the sailors they tempt want. Sailors don't stay with their Circes, they don't marry their Calypsos. The sirens live on a barren rock, alone, Scylla is left to wallow in misery at her monstrous form, and the selkie always has to leave for fear of being trapped by a person who won't love her on her terms.

I realized I had my hook for this simple, easy, silly little sea monster romance story: I was going to give a sea woman the happy ending she'd never get from anyone else.

Sailor may be the protagonist, but make no mistake: At Sea Without a Map was always, always, ALWAYS about Calibani.

The goal with Calibani was simple: I was going to set up a fairly standard Monstrous Sea Woman, but where other stories would let her be in one episode of the travel narrative and move on, this one would stick around. She'd be an unambiguous predator of human beings - an open and admitted maneater - but she would have no true malice to her. She, like all predators, eats what she can get to survive, and it just so happens that she's adapted to eat humans. And the story would pose the same question to the reader that my brain posed to me during Different Beast: is there any way you could make a siren-style sea monster sympathetic? Can you make a normal person who doesn't have my particular brain rot look at a maneating siren and think, "You're not supposed to kill her, you're supposed to love her!"

One of the few unavoidable plot points of At Sea Without a Map was that Calibani and Sailor's relationship would become romantic. What kind of romance it was could have varied substantially - it could have been one-sided, it could have been toxic, it could have been far more tragic OR far more comedic. But it was always, always going to be a romance of some sort - the goal of this experiment was to make you, the reader, love Calibani. All else was icing on the cake.

I decided to base Calibani's personality on Miranda from The Tempest - i.e. a sweet girl who is both wordly and naive, who understands the strange setting of our "lost at sea" story far better than the audience viewpoint character does, but views the mundane world of the audience viewpoint character with wonder and naiveté. In fact I almost named her Miranda outright... except I already had a character in the setting I chose for this story who had that name, and as an allusion to the same Shakespearean character no less. So I settled on naming her after Miranda's adoptive sibling (of sorts), Caliban - more fitting in some ways, as Caliban is a fish-human hybrid who is arguable more native to the magic island in The Tempest than Miranda herself.

(Calibani isn't the only Tempest name homage, either - her mother, Sycorax, takes her name directly from Caliban's unseen but oft-spoken of witch mother. Dr. Antonia Warefore takes her first name from Antonio, one of the human villains in The Tempest who hopes to use being lost at sea as a way to perform a coup. And the mothman Iriel takes her name from Ariel, the wind spirit in The Tempest who aids the wizard Prospero in controlling the magic island. If Sailor has a "real" name, it's probably either Ferdinand or Miranda, the two lovers who manage to blend civilization and the wilderness together with their romance.)

Visually, I wanted Calibani to not be any common archetype of sea monster woman, but rather something that evokes the popular images while still being her own thing. She's not a mermaid or a siren or a selkie - she's basically "what if a sea serpent was also a girl." In-universe, she's chubby because she, like all marine megafauna, needs blubber to survive. Out-of-universe, she's chubby because I've found that routinely drawing cute chubby girls is good for my mental health.

Part 3: CYOA

Now, while we live in a post-Muncher society where shame and cringe are emotions only the cowardly should experience, I am nonetheless Very Catholic about expressing my own feelings of, like, liking girls and shit. I cannot help feeling guilty when publicly expressing adoration of women without, like, an excuse - it's gotta be a joke or something, you know? I can't be genuine about it, or else Jesus will beat me with a cane for disrespecting women with my lecherous gaze.

But luckily I've cultivated a loyal audience of fellow monsterfuckers, which meant I had an excuse lined up: if I made this a choose your own adventure type deal, a story with audience participation, then you all would be my accomplices. And Jesus can't cane all of us! He doesn't have enough hands! I found a loophole bigger than his stigmata!

Plus I love collaborative story-telling - there's a thrill in not having total control of where the narrative is going. As Brennan Lee Mulligan must know, there's a joy in having to deal with the chaos thrown your way by letting others grab the figurative ball, even if just for a moment.

Part 4: Offbeat Melody

Since I did not want to set this story in Midgaheim, I decided to steer myself away from a vaguely medieval setting altogether. But I also didn't want to limit myself with the need for "realism" that putting it in a normal sea would require, and making a new setting whole cloth would start pushing this project into "not easy" territory.

Luckily, I had a setting lying around that I hadn't played with in a while, which just so happened to have a location that was PERFECT for the sort of Never Stop Blowing Up style madness I was aiming for. For a few years I ran a Monster of the Week TTRPG campaign called Offbeat Melody, and one of its core setting elements was taking the goblin universe hypothesis in paranormal science (yeah it's a real hypothesis) to an illogical extreme. We had specifically seen glimpses of the Sea of Monsters in Offbeat Melody, i.e. the parallel universe where monsters like Nessie, Ogopogo, Champ, and the like all hail from. Well, why not have a whole story set there? It's literally a universe devoted solely to creating sea monsters - what better place to strand our modern Odysseus?

Offbeat Melody was always sort of a Never Stop Blowing Up project, or at least NSBU adjacent. Some of my most unhinged story-telling moments are in that campaign - you could make a supercut of just the "commercial breaks" in the various sessions and it'd basically be an I Think You Should Leave episode. Taking one obscure corner of its multiversal world and exploring it in detail was perfect for this project.

Part 5: Monster by Monster

With our main romance as sorted out as could be for a CYOA story, it was time to figure out the "episodes" of this sea voyage. I settled on there being ten to roughly align with The Odyssey - just in terms of number, mind you, not in a one-to-one comparison. The first was, obviously, Calibani herself, which left nine more slots for me to fill with monsters. Let's go through them together in brief:

Tree Storks - any lost at sea story eventually has to get its protagonist into an island at some point, but this immediately begs the question, "Why don't they just stay on the island where it's safe?" The answer to that question has to be, "it's not safe there, actually." The Odyssey does this quickly and cleverly with a one two punch: the first island seems safe until you realize the food on it brainwashes you into forgetting everything except your desire to eat it, and the second island is full of delicious sheep but also giants who will eat you just as easily as they eat the sheep. When other islands show up in the story later, you immediately regard them with suspicion, because you don't know HOW they're going to be fucked up, but they definitely will be. My goal with the second episode was to establish the same sort of danger - that land is NOT safe, that islands WILL be fucked up and dangerous in ways you might not expect.

I also wanted to establish that this is not just a sea of monsters, but a very WEIRD sea of WEIRD monsters. It couldn't be any old monster on this island - it had to be one that was unique, unexpected, and maybe just a bit silly while still being menacing.

I've always felt that there's a lot of un-mined horror potential in storks, cranes, and herons - any bird with a long neck and spear-like beak it uses to stab smaller creatures from above. Just imagine yourself in a frog's place in the world - tiny, going about your business, when suddenly something shoots down at you from above and impales you before you even feel the shadow fall over your face. Or perhaps you did see the shadow - some of these birds spread their wings to create shade specifically to attract fish, and then spear the poor little bastards.

Well, what do people often look to islands for when out at sea? Shade - the shade of a palm tree. And palm fronds kinda resemble feathers, don't they? Wouldn't it be both ludicrous and terrifying is there was a stork big enough to mimic a palm tree - and wouldn't that be a DEVIOUS trap for a sun-drenched sailor to fall for? So the Tree Storks were born.

The Globster - I made a list of sea monster archetypes in the early planning for this project, and one I wanted to include was a kraken, i.e. some sort of tentacled sea beast. But I didn't want to do JUST a big squid or octopus, or even a riff on them. I wanted to take the idea of "big sea monster with lots of tentacles" into a stranger direction.

Since the Sea of Monsters is explicitly the home universe of lake and sea monster cryptids, I thought it might be fun if ASWaM's kraken equivalent was a globster - just a big ball of rotten meat. I love drawing monstrous faces, so I decided it'd just be, like, MADE of hideous rotten faces, all melting and congealing together, with its tentacles doubling as the tongues of its many mouths. A perfectly wretched image that, like the Tree Storks, would do well to establish how Fucked things could get in this setting. Plus similar monsters had appeared in Offbeat Melody, which would make for a fun sense of familiarity for the, like, five or so readers of mine who had listened to that campaign before.

Captain Peter & the Dolphin - Another thing I did in the early planning stages of this project was make a list of the different sea voyage stories I know and love, the most contentious of which is The Life of Pi. That's a story that I love on a literal level but kind of hate on a figurative level - its whole theme/message is that doubt is the worst thing you can have, that if you don't commit to believing something with zealous conviction you are a coward. As a person who thinks doubt is valid, that "I don't know" is sometimes the ONLY truly valid answer to a question, I have issues with that message.

But I can't help loving the beautifully ludicrous idea of a non-anthropomorphic tiger sailing the ocean on a big Odyssey of its own. Like, if that story didn't actively hate me for being agnostic, it would be one of my favorites.

So I decided to, you know, just steal the idea of a tiger Odysseus. The tiger in The Life of Pi is named Richard Parker. Richard Parker also happens to be the name of Peter Parker's dad. Hence we get Captain Peter - the figurative son of Richard Parker, if you will. And to ratchet up the absurdity of a tiger Odysseus, I made him a pirate and the sole sailor of his voyage. Somehow, this tiger has manned a boat on his own.

Captain Peter was intended to be the hero of another story - a sign for the readers that it IS possible for a stranded person (or, in this case, tiger) to survive out here. To that end, he had to rescue our heroes from another threat, but not one that would be interesting enough to take the focus off of the tiger pirate. Originally I planned for that threat to just be a big shark, but I ended up liking my shark design too much to put it in a role that small, so I quickly designed a nasty dolphin for the role instead. I think that worked out well, honestly.

Dr. Neptune - Episodes 5 and 6 were the mid-point of this journey, so I wanted the two monsters of those to escalate things significantly. I figured episode 5 was probably a good place to FINALLY give some meaningful exposition on what was going on, and there are a lot of stories about mad scientists doing weird shit on islands in my big list of sea voyage stories I love. So we get Dr. Neptune, a classical brain-in-a-jar mad scientist who's affable enough to give more-or-less accurate exposition but loony enough to be a problem. This also felt like a good spot to remind the reader that Calibani is not just a girl with a tail but rather a Sea Monster herself, and one that we'd been making stronger by allying with.

With his human-but-not-quite nature and cyclops eye, Dr. Neptune could sort of be seen as the Polyphemus of this story, couldn't he?

The Crocodisle - One of the sea monster archetypes on my list was "the island that's actually a sleeping monster," of which there are many in mythology and folklore. My favorite is the Jasconius from the voyage of St. Brendan, mainly because it's more or less benign and actually comes back to help St. Brendan and his crew at the end of the story. I always love when I can find an old story with a friendly monster in it.

When thinking of my own spin on the island monster concept, I remembered the only Magic the Gathering card I had as a kid, which I still have and love to this day: The Sandbar Crocodile. This card already inspired Crocogon's color scheme in The Atomic time of Monsters, but I felt I could go to that well again one more time, and so made a crocodile that wasn't just a sandbar, but a whole damn island to itself. And, like Jasconius, it turns out he's pretty chill.

I did not think of the pun name "Crocodisle" until I was actually writing the chapter in question.

The Femdom Mermaids - These three were a late addition to the roster. When I had Calibani bring up mermaids early in the story, I realized as soon as I wrote her rant about them that we'd HAVE to meet some later on in the story.

The readers had significantly shaped Calibani and Sailor's romance by this point, and I decided that it could be useful to have a chapter that was devoted to showing definitively how these two were good for each other. I thought the mermaids could provide a good contrast: have them act out a seemingly more benign take on the monstrous sea women trope (they abduct our hero to protect and care for them!) only for it to quickly feel MORE deranged than Calibani's comparatively simple desire just to eat him.

The spirit of Calibani's rant about mermaids was taken from weird* girls I knew in high school complaining about cheerleaders, so I wanted the mermaids to look like the sea monster equivalent of popular kids to Calibani's chubby weird girl. Two of them got the names of famous beauties - Helyne = Helen of Troy, Clio = Cleopatra.

(*when I say "weird" I mean it in a complimentary and affectionate sense)

Bob, meanwhile, kinda... rebelled, I guess? Before I had names for them, I listed "bob" by her as just, like, a descriptor for her hair cut, but then I liked it as her name, and once she was named Bob she became more than just a mean popular girl. She was a weirdo too, the little punching bag of the two mean popular girls who did their dirty work and smiled through their abuse because hey, at least they included her. It gave the trio an easily defined dynamic, helped make two of the three more visibly nasty, and gave us comic relief in an arc that could very well have gotten too uncomfortable otherwise.

And I guess it worked - readers REALLY loved Bob, and were very vocal about it, and I realized mid-arc that I had accidentally made her too likable to just leave in this arc. So Bob got to be rescued from her awful friend group thanks to readers like YOU.

Lord Ironteeth - yeah, this was the shark that was too cool to be a minor threat. When I drew his noggin, I realized he would need a chapter of his own, one with gravitas. I decided he'd specifically be the threshold guardian -once we beat him, we'd know for sure how to get home, even if there were a few more threats in store.

Spindle Inc and Sycorax - when I was a kid I used to have this recurring nightmare about being on some sort of underwater sea station that had this huge sea serpent trapped inside it. I'd look at the sea serpent from a window within the station and see it coiling in its tank, only for it to look at me with fury. In that glance I would suddenly realize two things with absolute clarity: first, it was going to break free and kill everyone, and second, we deserved that destruction for what we had done to it. The terror of the dream was less that the sea serpent was going to break free, and more the guilt of knowing that all the mayhem that was about to unfold was our fault to begin with.

I thought that would be fun to homage with the penultimate chapter of this story. OBVIOUSLY the sea serpent was Calibani's mom, obviously the trauma of its capture was why Calibani grew into a predator that specializes in hunting humans, obviously we would have to free the sea serpent despite that running counter to Sailor's goal of getting home. Easy, easy, easy plot point to include.

Spindle, Inc. is the primary antagonistic force in Offbeat Melody, so they easily slotted into the role of the arrogant humans who captured this monster for nefarious and selfish motives. They could tie a lot of other plot threads together too - Dr. Neptune was a scientist who worked for them as a contractor only to get screwed over (i.e. they stranded him in the Sea of Monsters, expecting him to die, and then used his research to make their own base of operations in it), we'd learn of him through a spindle briefcase left behind by some unfortunate rogue agent who got eaten by the Globster while he was trying to escape, hell they could even be one of the possible origins of Sailor themself (more on that later). Very useful villains, Spindle.

The Abyssal Mother - I knew the last sea monster would need a lot of punch to it. I briefly considered just a big whale - the Moby Dick to Spindle's corporate Ahab - but it felt underwhelming after all that came before. So I went for arguably the most dramatic possible sea monster, a full on Cthulhu-style elder god. If you're a frequent follower of this blog, you might know I have particularly high standards for Eldritch Abominations, so I realized this was going to be a pretty big challenge for me to live up to, and decided to keep the cthulhu in question reserved to the last few entries as a result - the less it appears, the less it has to live up to.

I realized I had a good angle when my experiments with the Cthulhu "squid for a head" concept ended up having a face framed in shadow - you know, the same visual that our protagonist has in most appearances. That provided some very juicy parallels between the two that made this final monster feel particularly noteworthy to me, ones that I'll leave you to ponder, since they tie into...

Part 6: Themes

I did not set out to have a theme in this story. I just wanted to make a sailor and a sea monster kiss. That was my only goal.

But I really don't begin with theme in ANY of my writing. I figure out topics I want to address, but for all my novels I feel like the themes didn't start coming together until about halfway through the first draft, when enough of the elements of the story had been set down and interacted with each other enough for me to realize what I was saying with them. A huge part of my second and third drafts for my novels have focused on making the themes of my stories more concrete and unified.

Well, ASWaM is very much a first draft of a story, but it's a simple enough story that I think the theme found itself pretty well despite lacking subsequent drafts to refine it.

ASWaM is about doubt and direction. It's about being adrift in a world that is in many ways hostile by nature, about not feeling like you're where you're supposed to be or even WHO you're supposed to be, and about setting off aimlessly in the hope that maybe you'll find your way to that mythical land of "what my life is supposed to be."

When I began the story, Sailor had amnesia and wore clothes that obscured their identity as a way to make it easier for anyone to step into Sailor's role. Sailor had to feel like You, the Reader, and so we don't know their name, their gender, their eye color, their hair color, even their skin color (note that their hands are always wearing gloves, and their face is always in shadow).

But it also meant Sailor is, well, undefined, at least at the start of the story. Sailor doesn't know who they are, what they are, how they came to be. Sailor feels distinctly that they should be Something Else, should be Somewhere Else, should be Someone Else, should not be who/what/where they are. Sailor is plagued by doubt, by a need to go in a different direction, by a need to be other than they are.

This initially contrasts with Calibani, who begins the story very confident that she is doing exactly what she was designed to be doing and acting exactly like she should be. As they interact, they begin to shift each other in opposite directions - Calibani questions her existence and nature, sometimes to a self destructive degree, and Sailor begins to find something about who and where they are that they like. They find a healthy middle ground together - doubtful enough to want to be better people, but with love for themselves that allows them to not feel the need to up-heave their lives entirely.

I knew at the start that I would build an expectation for there to be some answer to the question of who Sailor is and where they came from, because those are the questions that begin the whole narrative. I brainstormed a number of answers to those questions, but once I got a few chapters into writing the story and saw this theme of doubt developing, I realized I couldn't answer them. From a thematic standpoint, the doubt HAD to remain. So I gave hints to possible answers, bits of evidence to support the possibility of them being true, but never planted a smoking gun that answered it for sure.

Sailor can't know the answer because NONE of us know the answer. Outside of blind Life of Pi style faith, you cannot know for sure that you are living the life you're supposed to live. All you can do is figure out whether you're happy with the life you've got, or if you need a change. Sailor will never know who they are supposed to be, but they did learn who they are, and they love that person now.

For those curious, the possible Sailor origins are:

Occam's Razor: they're exactly what Dr. Neptune theorized, i.e. a human who got stranded in the Bermuda Triangle (or the Devil's Triangle or any other number of paranormal triangles) and fell into the Sea of Monsters. The trauma of that experience gave them amnesia. It's just brain damage and bad luck.

A Spindle Experiment: Dr. Warefore mentions that Spindle has been trying to find a way to make a human who can evolve like the denizens of the Sea of Monsters. Sailor may well be an attempt to do just that, perhaps one they wrote off as a failure and abandoned (they do that a lot)

A Deep One: Sailor is the offspring of one of the denizens of the Sea of Monsters (most likely the Abyssal Mother herself) who has somehow been tricked into believing they are human, to the point where they seem to be human to everyone else, even other monsters. Maybe a human summoned a sea monster to breed with on earth, and Sailor ended up being subconsciously drawn back to the Sea by their blood. Maybe Sailor never actually lived on earth at all, but was only made to THINK they had as part of the transformation into a human.

The Platonic Ideal of a Sailor: the Sea of Monsters is full of archetypal concepts, and arguably a sailor trying to find their way home is just as archetypal as any sea serpent, mermaid, or kraken. Our only proof that humans aren't native to the Sea of Monsters is Dr. Neptune, and he's not as reliable an expert as he claims to be.

This theme of doubt and direction also made the compass more important to the narrative than a simply mechanic for audience participation - a compass, after all, gives direction, and the feeling that Sailor is not where they're supposed to be, that they need to head in a different direction, is ultimately the catalyst of the plot. The compass is, in many ways, the antagonist of the story - the force that keeps Sailor from accepting themself. I realized this a little after I started making the different directions have personalities - initially they just represented broad concepts (North = follow conventional wisdom ala the North Star, South = preserve your short-term self interest at all costs, East = act with curiosity and be willing to take calculated risks, and West = throw caution to the wind and do anything that seems novel and exciting), but over time they became little characters themselves.

Since it was our thematic antagonist, I decided to pepper in some ideas about what the compass might be in-universe - and, in a move that would no doubt frustrate the compass, we also don't know for sure which of those is "correct." Is the compass a poltergeist, some amalgamation of dead sailors who try to steer other lost souls home? Is it a malign entity that leeches off of those desperate enough to seek its aid, living through them while pretending to aid them? Is it a device Spindle made to lure sailors to their clutches, OR to guide their experiments in human/monster hybrids? Was it a cursed item that forced a sea monster to assume a human shape? Who can say - the compass sure can't, it can only tell you a direction to go in.

Part 7: Q&A

Since this was an interactive story, I felt it was only fitting to add one last interactive element to this post-script write up, and some of your happily obliged me by sending in questions.

When I noticed how fast readers were falling for Calibani, I figured there was a good chance we'd end up staying in the Sea of Monsters. By chapter 7, I figured it was more or less a given, and by the end of the Lord Ironteeth encounter I was almost 100% sure Sailor would remain at sea. There was always a chance, though - while a look at the polls shows that the audience got more and more on the same page towards the end, there were always dissenting voices, and the desire to get an answer to the question of Who Sailor Was remained strong, as a number of people kept trying to find angles where they could get that AND stay with Calibani.

I was surprised early on by how easily the audience fell in love with Calibani, to the point where I made a few posts commenting on it. I mean, I shouldn't have been - as I said earlier, I have cultivated an audience of fellow monsterfuckers on here, and I know at least a few of them saw my bait and knew they could get me to be freaky in a way we found mutually agreeable (thank you all again for helping me escape being caned by Jesus for being horny).

Like, we REPEATEDLY ignored developing the plot in the Tree Storks chapter for several days just to spend more time with Calibani - something that I enjoyed immensely (this whole thing was an excuse for me to write and draw a cute chubby sea monster girl as much as possible aftter all) but also knew as a storyteller was not what most would consider a good story call. I like how it turned out, but it defied conventional narrative wisdom, you know? I was surprised.

On the other side of the coin, I was also surprised by how the audience NEVER chose an option that was humorously disastrous. I gave plenty of them, and, like, generally in collaborative storytelling there will be at least one moment where your collaborators decide to do the really, REALLY stupid thing that makes everything spiral out of control really quickly. I figured at least once the audience would choose the troll response, but no, you guys worked hard to keep Sailor and Calibani alive. You refused to let them hurt each other, refused to let them throw themselves into danger, refused to imperil them for your own chuckles. It was very sweet and unexpected.

I say "you refused" but to be fair it's not like NO ONE voted for the troll options - they generally got a handful of votes, just one that was beaten by a landslide of more reasonable options. Hopefully those of you who voted for the troll options enjoyed Bob throwing you a bone by disintegrating Dr. Warefore - that was my consolation prize to you.

Yes. I knew at the beginning that there would be two endings for this story: either Sailor leaves the Sea and goes home, or Sailor stays there forever. Or, you know, Sailor dies as a result of you guys choosing several stupid options in a row, but as stated above you guys avoided those scenarios pretty decisively.

Had Sailor gone home, the following would have occurred: first, they would forget everything that happened in the Sea of Monsters. Second, they would wake up in a hospital, having been found in the Atlantic Ocean by a human-recovery charity run by... oh, isn't that funny, some tech company named Spindle Inc! Spindle would foot the medical bills and even offer Sailor a job, but Sailor would decline because even now they're still not sure what Spindle even does. Sailor would go back to their life and find it familiar and utterly mundane, but not particularly happy. Their father died when they were 18, their mother was never in the picture, they have no siblings. They worked an office job and were sort of a nonentity - that position has long since been filled, but Sailor gets a new job and lives out much the same life: simple, mundane, dreary. Every now and then they get a pang of desire to leave, to go to sea, but they push it out of mind. They never even see the ocean again as long as they live.

Sailor would have gotten the normal life they thought they were supposed to have, the normal memories and name and identity, the mundane life of a normal person. And they just had to trade everything they found in the Sea of Monsters to get it. A question is answered, a direction is followed, but is it the right answer, the right direction?

Well, I think doubt would have remained.

I had a very vague idea for there to be some sort of man-eating giant in, like, a crystal castle. He got cut to make way for the mermaids.

I wanted to fit in a big whale and a giant crustacean, but there wasn't room or an interesting angle for me to want to make room for them. Saved for a possible sequel, I suppose.

I also wanted to have a scene with, like, DOZENS of sea monsters, including some of the ones from Offbeat Melody, but the goal of "this should be EASY you dumbass" made me kill that idea pretty quick.

Thank you!

The primary inspirations were:

The Odyssey and Epic: the Musical

The voyage of St. Brendan

The many "weird shit happens on an island" movies in Toho's filmography, i.e. Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster, Son of Godzilla, Yog Monster of the Deep, Matango, etc.

The Island of Dr. Moreau

The Boy and the Heron

Ponyo (specifically Ponyo's parents - I wanted Sailor to have the same desperate energy as that wizard who fucks the giant sea goddess)

The Life of Pi

Slay the Princess (perhaps most obvious in the use of second person narration, multiple voices in the protagonist's head, and falling in love with a creature that has tried to kill you at least once)

I'm going to use this to springboard to a related point in a second, but first a genuine yet humorous answer: Yes, absolutely yes, I am enough of a big romantic sap that I would give everything about my life away to be with a person who loves me and explore a world of monsters in a heartbeat. Hell, I would have jumped in the water the minute Calibani asked and died with her fangs in my neck and a smile on my face. I am dumb this way. Do not follow my example.

On that related point, though... Most stories like this, I daresay ALL stories like this that I know of, end with the hero abandoning the fantasy world in favor of reality, never to return. And that seems like the proper choice and lesson on the surface - we don't want to tell audiences to give up their real life in favor of a fantasy, after all. That's encouraging escapism, and that's not healthy!

But, like... textually speaking, the fantastical world IS real to the characters in these stories. And it's often not really an escape - was Sailor's life devoid of conflict and suffering in the Sea of Monsters? Fuck no! It's just that they figured out how to deal with that conflict and suffering - they built skills and a support system, they adapted, they learned how to overcome what was there.

I think it can be argued that sometimes the return to a "normal" world is, in itself, an escape - the idea that your life can spiral into chaos but that's ok, you can just reset everything and go back to The Way It Was and Should Be is just as unrealistic and unhealthy an idea as You Should Escape to A Better World. Sometimes your plans for your life fall apart, sometimes you're thrown into a place you never intended to go, sometimes you have to learn skills you never anticipated needing and ally with people you never thought you'd befriend to deal with problems you never dreamed you'd have to overcome. And sometimes it's ok to look at your derailed life, your Not Where You Should Be life, and say, "Well, I've learned how to live here... maybe I can stay."

Especially if there's a cute chubby sea monster girl who loves you.

Bob was never supposed to appear past chapter 7, but about halfway through that chapter I realized the audience and I myself would be heartbroken if we didn't rescue her. Definitely for the best - she provided some well-needed comic relief in the final chapters.

This is gonna sound snarky, but, yeah - there were 58 choices with four options a piece, and we only chose one of the four. While some of the options would have similar results, almost none would have had identical outcomes. And some would have been VERY different.

Like, to go back to the beginning: when Calibani attacked, we could either throw a net on her, harpoon her, try to drive around her, or hide below deck. We picked the net, but for the other three options:

Harpooning would result in us hitting her in the thigh, causing her enough pain that she collapses on our deck and we, horrified at the violence we committed, just sort of push on. Calibani would be wounded for at least the next chapter, perhaps longer, and significantly weaker (and probably harboring a great deal of hidden resentment while also being genuinely scared of Sailor). She would be vulnerable during the stork attack, forcing Sailor to take a more active role in that chapter.

Trying to steer around her would result in us essentially fighting her with our boat, resulting in the boat capsizing and Calibani getting tangled up in it. We'd wake up alone on Stork Island and have to travel in search of our boat, alone and vulnerable among man-eating trees. We'd run into Calibani again, also beached and in trouble, end up recruiting her to help us get our boat out of the sand.

Hiding below deck would end in a sea storm that leaves us inside our boat as it's beached on Stork Island. We'd fend off the storks alone, and run into Calibani once we get our boat out to sea, as she got away more or less unscathed.

All of these would have majorly changed the trajectory of our relationship with Calibani and our identity as Sailor, despite seeming to have the same component parts on the surface. Now account for how similarly slight changes in the other options could have gone, and we could have had a very different story indeed.

Part 8: Our Girl

I just think she's neat!

#At Sea Without a Map

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forbebeandjam · 20 hours ago

Text

New Year Love | Bada Lee x Fem Reader | fluff

Summary: the young and famous dancer decided to have a new life with you by her side.

Word count: 1.3k

Fluff and some angst (just a little bit)

A/N: sorry I didn’t post this sooner. I had been trying to get my life together before I have to go back to work. I usually have to make sure what I’m writing isn’t rushed but anyway! Hope you like this 🤍

"Get the fuck out of my house! All you do is cause trouble anyway," Your mom said as she threw your things out of the house.

The reason behind her actions began when you decided to join a dance studio to learn dance. That had always been your dream. However, you couldn't afford it. You were only eighteen years old and you had gotten fired from your job.

It's not like it was your fault. You were trying to balance your studies, two jobs, and taking care of your little sister. Your parents lived off you and you hated it, but you loved your sister so you put up with it.

Until you had enough. You told your mom how tired you were of having to choose between, work, school, and your sister. You told her you wanted to go to school and dance and she... she laughed.

You didn't expect more from her and then she threw you out of the house. With nowhere to go and teary eyes, you picked up your things, shoved them in your bag, and walked to your school.

You sat on a bench near the entrance and hugged your body tightly. December 31st never felt so lonely and cold as that night. Then you felt someone sit next to you.

You froze in terror thinking it was probably a creepy man or a guy from school that came to mess with you when a light turned on. Then you saw her face and you were too shocked to say anything.

"What brings you here?" She said as she sniffled and dusted the snow off her coat. You furrowed your brows in confusion. Bada. Lee Bada was talking to you. The same girl who was in your class for years but never acknowledged you. The girl who everyone praised for being on TV several times because of her amazing choreographies.

"Cat got your tongue? Come on Y/N. You're usually so talkative around Dami. Why not with me?" She said with a small chuckle. Then you caught a glimpse of her eyes. Red and puffy. She had been crying and she just needed someone to talk to.

"Well, I guess this isn't the perfect place to spend New Year's but, it's better than the place I used to call home," she shrugged and hugged yourself a bit more trying to hide your coldness from her.

"Did you feel out of place too?" You asked again. You could feel droplets of sweat dripping down your forehead.

"Yeah... people rarely see me for who I am nowadays. They all focus on my future and fame. I can't have one moment to myself and when I do, I hear the whispers of people talking about how they can take advantage of my name. It's very lonely," she said and her shoulders relaxed a bit.

"Wouldn't it be nice to run away to a place where no one can mess with your peace? That's my New Year's resolution. Move away from my parents," there was a small pause after she finished her words.

"What about you, Y/N?" She said and tired to you.

"Gosh... you're freezing," she said and placed her coat around your shoulders. She zipped it up carefully and her hand graced your face. She flinched and her eyes were filled with worry.

"You're burning up. I need to get you to a hospital," she said. You could barely open your eyes but you managed to tell her you couldn't afford it.

"Don't worry about that. We need to go now. Get on," she crouched down in front of you and you weakly got in her back. She picked up your things and began walking to the street to look for a cab.

Once you were in the hospital you seemed to have lost consciousness. When you woke up it was daytime. The light of the room was shining on your eyes and you groaned. Your throat felt itchy and you had a headache.

"Happy New Year, Y/N," Bada said as she entered the room.

"Bada, what are you doing here?" You asked.

"I tried to contact your family. They cursed at me and told me you were dead to them... I'm sorry," she said as she placed food in front of you.

"If you pity me because of the rumors running around school, drop the act. I hate when people pity me. I'll manage on my own," you told her and looked away as your eyes filled with tears.

But the tall girl didn't leave. She sat next to you. You didn't dare to look at her. It was the only time someone gave you attention without having to ask for it.

"You still don't get it.." she said.

"Get what?" You asked, feeling curious about her words.

"I've always wondered why you were so distant. How can your pretty eyes can carry so much love and so much pain at the same time? How can you always be awake despite all of the things you do in a day?" She said.

"How do you-"

"I've been watching you. Ever since you transferred to this school I thought you seemed pretty cool. I wanted to be your friend so bad but you never seemed to care about anything other than your school work. After hearing the rumors about you, I knew your life was pretty difficult and I didn't want to make things harder for you so I decided to stay away from you," she paused.

You couldn't believe it. All of the things Bada just said were spinning in your head. You tried to make sense of them but you couldn't. There was no way Bada, The Bada Lee, wanted to be your friend.

"You... Why? Why did someone like you even acknowledge someone like me? People try to stay away from me because of my parents. They think I am like them. You never once thought of me as someone like that?" you asked still in disbelief.

"Never. I knew that you had a hard life and that you didn't deserve it. And I knew what your eyes were hiding. I'm sorry I didn't try to approach you and sprinkle a bit of happiness when you needed it,"

"I don't know what to say. It's gonna take time for me to heal but... I'd really love for you to stick around," you responded not looking at her eyes.

You felt a warmth around your hand realizing that it was her hand.

"I'll never leave you. Never," she said and you finally looked at her. That smile. That sweet sweet smile of hers just made it 100 times clearer. You never wanted to be away from Bada.

(A year later)

And there you were. After she finished school, you two went to live in a different city. You were both thriving with success and you moved in together. Just the two of you in your shared apartment as roommates.

It was evident that the two of you had fallen for each other but neither dared to say a thing. How could you ruin something so perfect with such a vague feeling?

So you say at the dinner table looking out of the window to see all the pretty fireworks. You leaned your head on her shoulder and she hugged you tightly.

"Happy New Year, my love," she said. You lifted your head and looked at her with wide eyes.

"Did you..."

"Call you, my love? I did. I want everything with you. I want to kiss you and hug you and help you heal. I want to give you the world and care for you. I want to spend my New Year's with you like this. So, please say yes and be mine?" She said as tears filled her eyes.

You didn't say anything but launched yourself into her arms and kissed her. Softly, then passionately.

You couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. Something so painful as that night turned into something beautiful in the course of a year and you swore that was all you needed to be happy.

You couldn't wait for a lifetime of love and happiness next to Bada.

Thank you for reading 🩵

#forbebeandjam #honeybee156 #street woman fighter 2 #bebe #bada lee #lgbt #jam republic #street woman fighter x reader #swf2 #bada lee x reader #bada lee fluff #bada lee x y/n #bada lee imagine #bada lee angst #bada bebe

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satin-velvet · 2 days ago

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.* ·˚ 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒲𝒾𝓏𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹-𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 ✧.* ·˚ ༘ 𝒢𝒩!𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

summary: a collection of head-canons around dating the wonderful wizard of oz.

note: I loved writing these, and I also wanted to write something gender-neutral. Thank you to everyone reading! Happy new years! 2025 will be a year filled with writing, wicked, and good memories <3

disclaimer: maybe not entirely accurate, this is just my interpretation of his character. subject to change, of course. some mentions of nsfw but nothing explicit.

✧.* ·˚ ༘

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

Oscar, unfortunately, is a bit lonely. Madame Moribble isn’t in the Emerald City all the time, so he’s mostly left to his own devices. I imagine he created the Oz of Tomorrow so he’d have something to do. Of course, lonely in the past tense, because with you he doesn’t feel lonely anymore!

He would immediately have a little figurine made for you, one for keepsakes and the other to go with his in the Oz of Tomorrow. Speaking of, he would love just explaining every detail of it and sharing everything he wants to add to it. He would want to hear your ideas, too, and hear what you think about it.

His favorite color, as we know, is green. If you wore green, he would love it. It doesn’t matter what; shirts, pants, dresses, lingerie, whatever. If you really wanted, he would get you a completely brand new, all green wardrobe. Just for you.

A little farther into the relationship, he’d want to tell you some of the things he remembers about Omaha, though it’s not much. Things about life before he was the wizard, but he might leave out the parts about him not actually being magical. He wouldn’t want you to think less of him. If you were also from somewhere far from Oz, he would be a little more comfortable with you since you have the shared experience of being somewhere completely new.

He’d be clingy, mostly unintentionally. Now that he has someone to actually talk to and spend time with, it’d be hard going back to doing things alone, even if it’s for a short while. There would be plenty he’d want to talk to you about, and he will just talk and talk if you let him, even if you stop responding. When he has to do his wizard work, like.. signing documents and such, if you wanted to come along and hangout in his office, he would happily let you.

Would absolutely gift you nice, custom jewelry and accessories whenever. If he knows gifts make you happy, expect them a lot. If you gave him gifts back, he would definitely cherish them.

Even though he tends not to venture outside the palace, if you wanted to, he’d go out to the Emerald City and explore it with you. Sometimes in a disguise, sometimes not. Sometimes the attention of all the citizens becomes too much. He loves the attention, of course, but he would want to focus on you.

Very protective. If you absolutely must leave (he will try to convince you not too) he wouldn’t want you to go very far, especially anywhere he can’t ensure your safety. Anywhere near the desert? No. Random forests? Probably not. If he felt he needed to, he would have a guard go with you.

He tries to keep all his evil tendencies under wraps, and present as a charming, sentimental man. The truth is a little more complicated. He was quite caring, to begin with, but saving Oz came with some drawbacks. For instance, if you wanted to break up or leave, he would try to convince you not to.. all the classic “What am I going to do without you?” lines. If you did actually leave, he’d do the same thing he did with Elphaba and call the guards to go get you and bring you back. I think this is when he would be most pathetic and begging, especially if you were standing your ground. He would try and convince you for hours, however long it takes.

One thing he would hate is you favoring another person over him. If you don’t need him, then you might leave, and he doesn’t want that. He’s the one and only wizard of oz; who could be better than him? It would make him jealous, and quite hurt. You might have to reassure him every once in awhile that you do love him and won’t leave.

On the topic of magic, he probably has a little potion room where he experiments with making elixirs and potions. At first, it was just for fun (and to give to Melena) but if you wanted, he could try some on you. Most of them don’t do much, if anything at all. But he’d be excited you want to try one of his hobbies.

He loves dancing. Slow-dancing, tap-dancing.. it doesn’t matter. If you didn’t know how, he’d teach you how to slow-dance. I think he’s proficient in many things, niche or not, since he has so much time on his hands. Things like instruments are another thing he’d love to teach you.

He’s always wanted a child of his own, and he projects a little bit of that onto you when he teaches you how to do something or explains things. I think this would be very noticeable if you were younger than him.

He likes pet-names, mostly because they are charming and also good for manipulation when he needs to use it. I think he’d use darling the most, whether casually, during intercourse, or when he want’s something from you. There are other pet names he’d use, depending on what you like. If you aren’t a fan of those, a nickname works just fine.

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

#wicked2024 #jeff goldblum #the wizard x reader #wizard x reader #great and powerful oz x reader #the wizard fanfiction #wicked #wizard of oz #oz x reader #headcanon #dating headcanons

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wetcatspellcaster · 1 day ago

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2024 fic wrapped

I was tagged by @cursedhaglette to do this tag-game, but I found the focus on stats made me a little uncomfortable! (also, no one needs to know how many words I wrote while having multiple breakdowns last year, truly).

But, I didn't want to ignore Mia's tag! so instead, I'm going to take @cinnamontails-ff wrapped tag-game, just bc I sympathise with the logic and I like this set of questions a lot more!

Thank you Cin for coming up with questions that don't focus so much on productivity. And thank you again, Mia, for including me in the original game :) hopefully this is an acceptable substitute!

What's been your biggest learning point this past year?

I guess, what it feels like to be a 'popular' author - and the answer is, 'both good and bad, in fact, extremely mixed'. Obviously, many parts of it are wonderful: more people interacted with my work in the height of the BG3 fandom than I've ever had before, I felt like my writing mattered and I enjoyed every conversation I had about it. I also felt under a lot more scrutiny, very hyperaware of how I acted in 'public' (ie. on this blog), and aware of the people I'd disappoint with the directions I took my stories and what I chose to include. I also had to watch the baffling half-life of modern fandom! BG3's 6 month peak and 1yr trough was wild to me, as someone who joined dragon age 8yrs after the game was released. But I've decided I actually really like the middle-road of interaction, with much less noise and dedicated, recurring readers who I recognise and who make me smile and laugh every single time they comment or tag my work. I'll probably never experience whatever the fuck Pieces was ever again, and I'm honestly... ok with that, currently? Not to sound awful, but I'm not sure I liked it lmao.

In terms of my writing, my biggest learning point was "you're good at this, actually". Chanting this to myself in the mirror while I white-knuckle the sink.

How has your writing developed this past year?

I'm genuinely not certain. Pieces was certainly my most ambitious story yet, but a lot of the outlining of that took place in 2023 so it feels like the development happened then... though I suppose landing the dismount was something I worked very hard to do. I guess the main development this year was that a lot of what I wrote was extremely, extremely angsty. I wrote Pieces, I wrote This Is Not A Love Story. and I gave Rosalie to Orin :))))) this doesn't necessarily surprise me, given the way my writing often reflects things I'm dealing with in my life, and I've been trying to both recover from - and desparately stave off a relapse into - depression. I think that I can see why I keep making characters into the worst versions of themselves (this goes for Astarion, Rosalie - bc Pieces Rosalie is NOT in a good place, Gale and my Durge) and then watching them claw their way back to happiness in the hope of proving to myself that that's possible.

But jfc, it all got a little heavy. I've decided that 2025 is the Year of the Rom Com™.

Good writing habits?

Committing myself exclusively to what I want to read and sticking to my guns - which means I actually finish the thing, rather than getting into my own head about it.

Stretching my comfort zone a little (writing something vaguely smutty, writing something very different in style, switching genres for a bit) without losing my own voice.

Not falling into any jealousy/existential crises about my own writing, which I guess is much easier when you're experiencing a bout of 'success', but I've managed to keep it up even after the success began tailing off :)

I wrote a lot of words last year. I'm not putting the stat down but god. It was a lot.

Bad writing habits?

Overwriting everything. Everything. All the time. Party Favours was so short!!! I used to write novellas!!! Why are my chapters so fucking long now?????

Having multiple fic wips when I promised myself I'd wind down fanfic and start writing original work again :')

I wrote a lot of words last year. I think I did this bc I was extremely unhappy, and productivity is how I define myself. when I feel bad, I write and post bc it makes me feel good. And I felt very bad this year. So anyway, I think my wordcount is both a good thing and also a wee cry for help :'))))

Favorite thing you wrote?

Chapter Twenty-Three of Pieces (Mephistopheles consultation and my Ascended!Astarion meta-reveal)

Chapter Four of Cooler Than Me (putting the blorbos in a formal-wear situation)

I also liked my sex scene in Pieces :') it was tame but it was written for me specifically x

Favorite reads?

for fic!

long summer days can lead to lazy vices by @pouroverpaloma

eyes like fire by demonsbanebard

only once by @bearhugsandshrugs

and of course stitched into your sleeve by the bestie (@violacae)!!! my first ever gift fic!!!

for literature!

The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door by HG Parry

Long Live Evil by Sarah Rees Brennan

Deeplight by Frances Hardinge

Biggest win?

god. I'm endlessly grateful for my gift fic and for my fanart, but... it's got to be bookbindings. I used to daydream, about somebody ever wanting to have my fic bound, but I thought it was impossible and would never happen! I now know of 3 copies of my work that exist in the world :D and the ones I've seen were fucking gorgeous, like oh my fucking god.

I am also very proud I finished Pieces! It was my most ambitious project, and writing the ending presented even more challenges than I expected - as I discovered how much you write yourself into a corner when you resoul Astarion. I still haven't managed to read the completed work in full yet, but I'm proud it exists :)

Goals for the new year?

finish outstanding wips, and then see where my writing takes me next. I want to write original work, but I also don't want to make it a resolution. As long as I continue to enjoy writing, that's what matters most to me!

Your favorite words of the year, aka the words you check each chapter for, making sure you didn't repeat them 788 times?

I think I use '[x character] froze' a lot, but rather than focusing on my repetitions I want to focus on some of my favourite turns of phrase that I managed to pull from the ether! :)

'before her brief courtship with death threatened to become a commitment' - from the risk and the reward

'We can all still be butchered. We cut away the parts of ourselves to make us fit' - from this is a love story.

"He played an androgynous, morally-grey vampire, of indeterminate gender! In a nice coat! Anyone who had two working eyes and a relevant Kinsey Score read the porn, back in the day!” - from cooler than me

What are you excited for in the new year?

act 3 astarion characterisation for honest lie! the first big romance moment in cooler than me! and then just romcoms! 2025 is the year of the romcom! I want to write exclusively happy things!!!!

tagging: @cursedhaglette (as it's a different set of questions lmao), @imscissorbladez, @violacae, @eraserspiral, @scaryanneee, @sitting-in-the-sink, @pricemarshfield, @pouroverpaloma and anyone else who wants to give this a whirl. anyone is welcome, and if you tag me in it I'll share x

#tags #tag games #fic wrapped 2024 #my writing

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vechter · 3 days ago

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2024 WRITING REVIEW

tagged by @malinaa my beloved <3 tagging: @acediscowlng @androxys @burins @danishsweethearts @daringyounggrayson @mintchocochipsposts and anyone else who hasn't been tagged yet!!!

number of stories posted to ao3: i kinda went crazy in the second half of the year... 4 fics although 3 are one-shots

word counted posted for last year: 46,426 of which LBIA is a whopping 40,444 oops

fandoms i wrote for: dc comics

pairings: dickroy... my brand and my heart <3

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: look back in anger sweep with 432 kudos, 277 bookmarks and 71 comment threads

work i’m most proud of (and why): gotta be look back in anger just bc it was a huge undertaking... for the 2 months before i posted the first chapter, i was furiously consumed by thoughts of it every free moment... so to finally get it out was just a catharsis... relief and a moment of pride

work i’m least proud of (and why): angie, they can't say we never tried because it was just a way for me to avoid writing the final chapter of LBIA lmao and i think it kinda shows in the writing... like it feels like a very surface level read? it's sweet but it's just a bit lacklustre

share or describe a favorite review you received: anything mintchocochips comments bc she's so good at pinpointing the metaphors and the moments that are integral to the scene... like it rlly feels like she really considers each line with love and that's so, so wonderful to hear <3 also this one just hit me rlly hard too:

(special shoutout to lys's long-winded threats on shaking it off to find a higher low... consider me endeared and scared bb)

a time when writing was really, really hard: can i say this whole year... like fr the first half of this year was a LOT so i had ideas but they never came to fruition. also november. fuck that month.

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: listen... i write what i love so anytime you guys see dickroy in my fics, it should not be a surprise. but the dick & garth scene in chapter 1 of LBIA was very fun for me bc we don't often see garth get the same love as the other members of the fab five (i'm guilty of it myself sadly)... and i just thought it was such a missed opportunity for them to connect and mull over their respective deaths + subsequent resurrections. so, to write that was really interesting bc i wanted the tether of the titans to be a different thing for them post-death.

a favourite excerpt of your writing:

i've posted a part of this before but i looove this section from it builds and builds and builds:

It’s exhausting trying to keep track of Dick’s faith in him. The glow of moments Dick will trust him implicitly, the gut-punch when Nightwing is implacable, even to him. He doesn’t know how Dick does it— how he lives like that, the uncontrolled chaos of his mind that can either be a deadly laser or an explosive bomb on a dime. There’s no pattern to it at all; Roy thought he knew all there was to know about fickleness after Ollie but Dick’s always proving him wrong. (The first lesson Oliver Queen taught him: when you pull back the bowstring, you learn how to let go.)

how did you grow as a writer last year: bro i regressed... i used to be capable of writing happy endings... i don't think i remember how to do that anymore. but tbh, i did get a lot into the visual considerations and rhetoric of prose + how it contributes to overall mood while reading. it's why LBIA is so fragmented and so densely littered with indents/parentheses.

how do you hope to grow this year: i need to write less vignette based stuff and focus more on building a flow of events in the same chunk of text... i would like to be capable of moving from point A to point B on screen itself.

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): @dandeeliion elle you were the first person to really hear about LBIA and you're one of the main reasons i got the courage to put the fic out so you have my unending love and appreciation. also, @ekleiipsis for listening to all my rants... i love you mar <3 also big shoutout to the gc for just generally gassing me up and loving my writing it means the world 🥺

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: hahahah... what if you had been performing your whole life and you didn't know who you were when that performance was taken away... what then

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: a first draft is a first draft no matter how shitty you may think it is

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year: pre-flashpoint long fic with a focus on dick, donna and roy + their respective traumas during dickbats era/blackest night/rise of arsenal. also really want to write a dick and cass case fic where their individual strengths and weaknesses are highlighted... only for the power of teamwork to save them ultimately <3

#writing tag #vech.text

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broidobe · 1 day ago

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𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔡𝔢 𝔞𝔡𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

requested by @rocketqueen1989x ! i am writing the other one you requested too!

☾a student struggles with their grades and attitude until their teacher, axl rose, offers a controversial form of "motivation," resulting in a tense, passionate encounter.☽

☾warnings: smut, teacher-student dynamic, swearing, power imbalance, THIS IS CONSENSUAL AND READER IS 18+ ☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

you sit in class, trying to focus on the lesson, but your mind keeps wandering. you've been struggling lately, and your grades have been slipping. you know you need to get your act together, but it's hard to care when everything seems so overwhelming.

as the class comes to a close, you start to pack up your things, ready to make a quick escape. but before you can make a move, axl rose, your teacher, speaks up. "you, stay behind," he says, his voice low and husky.

you feel a shiver run down your spine as you realize he's talking to you. you try to play it cool, but you can't help the flutter in your chest. you've had a crush on axl for what feels like forever, and now he's singling you out.

as the rest of the class files out, axl walks over to his desk and leans against it, his eyes fixed on you. "so, what's going on?" he asks, his voice firm but gentle. "your grades have been slipping, and i've noticed you've been having a bit of an attitude problem lately."

you feel a surge of defensiveness, but axl's calm demeanor puts you at ease. you try to explain, but he interrupts you, his voice taking on a slightly stern tone. "look, i know you're better than this. you're a smart kid, but you're not living up to your potential. and that attitude of yours? it's not going to get you very far."

you feel a spark of anger ignite within you, but before you can respond, axl continues. "but i think i know how to help you." his eyes seem to bore into your soul, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. "you see, sometimes, people just need a little… motivation. a little push in the right direction."

he pushes off from the desk and takes a step closer to you, his eyes locked on yours. you can feel the tension between you building, and you know exactly what he's suggesting. you try to play it cool, but your heart is racing, and your pulse is pounding in your ears.

"are you sure that's a good idea, mr. rose?" you ask, trying to sound calm, but your voice comes out husky and unsure.

axl's smile is slow and seductive. "oh, i'm positive," he says, his voice low and husky. "you see, i've found that when people are struggling, sometimes they just need to… release a little tension. and i'm happy to help you with that."

he takes another step closer, his eyes burning with intensity. you can feel the heat emanating from his body, and you know you're in trouble. but you can't help the way you feel, and as he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, you know you're putty in his hands.

"let's get one thing straight," he says, his voice low and husky. "i'm not going to go easy on you just because you're struggling. but i am going to help you… in my own way."

he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. "you're going to have to trust me," he whispers. "and you're going to have to do exactly as i say."

you feel a surge of excitement mixed with a little fear, but as you look into his eyes, you know you're ready to take the leap. you nod, barely able to speak, and axl's smile is all the encouragement you need.

as he pulls you into his arms, you know you're in for a wild ride. he spins you around, pushing you against the desk, and his hands move over your body, touching you in all the right places. he rips your shirt open, the buttons flying everywhere, and his lips crash down on yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.

you feel a moan building in your throat as axl's hands move over your body, touching you in all the right places. he pushes your bra up, exposing your breasts, and his lips move down your neck, tracing a path of fire over your skin.

he spins you around, bending you over the desk, and his hands move to your pants, ripping them down your legs. you feel a rush of excitement as he exposes your ass, and his hands move over your skin, touching you in all the right places.

"let's get that attitude adjusted," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

you feel a surge of excitement as axl's fingers move over your pussy, touching you in all the right places. he pushes you down, his body pressing against yours, and you feel his erection straining against his pants.

he rips his pants open, his erection springing free, and you can't help but gasp at the sight of him. axl's eyes lock on yours, and he whispers, "i'm going to fuck that attitude right out of you."

and with that, he thrusts into you, his body moving against yours, and you feel a rush of pleasure. you're aware of nothing but the feeling of his body against yours, the sensation of his erection moving inside you.

he pounds into you, his body slamming against yours, and you feel yourself getting lost in the sensation. you're aware of nothing but the feeling of his body against yours, the sensation of his erection moving inside you.

as you cum, axl's lips crash down on yours, and you feel a rush of pleasure. you're aware of nothing but the feeling of his body against yours, the sensation of his erection moving inside you.

and as you collapse against him, exhausted, axl's smile is all the encouragement you need. you know you've been adjusted, and you can't help but wonder what other lessons axl has in store for you.

he pulls out of you, his erection still hard, and you feel a surge of excitement. he spins you around, pushing you against the wall, and his hands move over your body, touching you in all the right places.

"i'm not done with you yet," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

and with that, he thrusts into you again, his body moving against yours, and you feel a rush of pleasure. you're aware of nothing but the feeling of his body against yours, the sensation of his erection moving inside you.

you're trapped in a cycle of pleasure, unable to escape, and you know you're at axl's mercy. but you wouldn't have it any other way.

#guns and roses #broidobe #axl rose #axl rose x reader #axl gnr #axl rose gnr #axl rose smut #current axl

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milkoomi · 1 day ago

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₊˚⊹ ᰔ a guide to getting better sleep ᝰ.ᐟ

getting the right amount of sleep every night is key to getting your physical health in check and keeping your own mental and emotional state balanced! i used to struggle with severe insomnia a few years ago, so i’m going to share some tips that helped me get a good night’s rest!

let’s begin !!

ᝰ.ᐟ create a solid nightly routine

for me, my nightly routine starts between 5-6pm! so you can begin to create your nightly routine by finding that start time for yourself!

your nightly routine can include a multitude of things! whether it’s having dinner, showering, doing your nightly skincare, doing some end-of-the-day journaling; your nightly routine can be anything that helps you unwind from the day.

my nightly routine:

5-6pm: get home from work, change out of work uniform, & have dinner — within this time i’ll also spend time with my family/loved ones! i try to stay off of my phone, but there are nights where i’m having dinner and i’ll be scrolling through social media or watching a youtube video!

6-7pm: shower, dental hygiene, nighttime skincare — this is my time to pamper myself, to cleanse myself from the stresses from my day (& ofc literally cleanse myself). i’ll have a podcast playing in the background or i’ll put on a playlist of songs that make me feel good!

7-9pm: prime time “me-time” — at this point in my night, after i’ve showered and stuff, i use this time to either continue listening to podcasts or i’ll have another one of my fav youtubers playing in the background! i also incorporate time to journal and follow up with doing something that makes me happy whether that be playing a video game, entertaining myself with youtube, or coming on here & writing a new blog post!

9-10pm: bed time — i always make sure i’m physically in bed between these times just so i can allow my body to begin to fully relax. i get really cozy in bed, getting all tucked in under my covers, and i’ll make sure my lights are either dimmed or off! my goal every night is to be asleep by 10-10:30pm!

of course, your routine will look different than mine, but feel free to take some inspiration from this! figure out what works best for you and your schedule! once you have that routine set in stone, it’ll be easier to train your mind and body to get to bed at a better time and get yourself used to sleeping at a more reasonable time!

ᝰ.ᐟ no phone usage an hour before bed time

when you’re already in bed, getting ready to fall asleep, try to stay off your phone! the more time you spend mindlessly scrolling through your phone, the more that time starts to slip away from you and soon enough you’ll be up past midnight. staying away from your phone before going to sleep will allow your mind and body to start signaling that feeling of “it’s time to go to sleep”.

being on your phone right before you fall asleep just keeps your mind going and will cause you stay awake for much longer than you need to be! let your mind rest!

luckily, with iphones, you can create different focus modes other than just having your ‘do not disturb’ on! i created a focus mode titled ‘bed time’ that is scheduled to start at 9pm & end at 7am (which is usually when i wake up). i have the mode made so that my homescreen pages don’t include the page where all my social media is at so that i’m not tempted to scroll through any of my socials! i also made sure that my ‘bed time’ mode does not allow any notifications from anyone or anything to prevent myself from getting distracted at night when i’m trying to go to sleep!

ᝰ.ᐟ create the perfect sleeping environment

going to sleep can be hard if it’s too silent/noisy, too dark/bright, too cold/hot; so it’s important to make your sleeping environment the most ideal to you! turn on a fan for white noise or if you need it to be a bit cooler in your room, set a timer on your tv and have it lowered to the lowest volume, turn off all the lights— just do whatever you feel is best for making sure you sleep comfortably throughout the night!

for me, i have my tv on & i’ll set the timer on it because i still need some light source (because honestly i’m afraid of the dark lol) and i need some sound while i sleep! i make sure my tv’s brightness is dimmed because too much light is too distracting for me. i also prefer my room to be colder at night so i can cozy up more into my blankets! doing all of that to create the perfect sleeping environment has helped me get much better sleep at night!

𝜗𝜚 final notes 𝜗𝜚

creating a good sleep schedule and maintaining it can be a battle, but getting good sleep will help you in so many ways! getting enough sleep is one of the best forms of self care, and if practicing better self care is one of your goals for this new year, then please start by working on your sleep schedule and getting better sleep!

live and love, babes.

sincerely, juno ⭑.ᐟ

#milkoomis #girlblogger #girlblogging #it girl #that girl #girl blog aesthetic #aesthetic #self care #self care blog #self care tips #self improvement #personal growth #better sleep #sleep schedule #becoming that girl #becoming her #motivation #self improvement tips

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yearsbecomingcool · 1 day ago

Text

call me, beep me | simon kalivoda

donate to gaza here

pairing | simon kalivoda x f!reader

synopsis | you were an attempted overachiever, but alas your knowledge could only get you so far. your weak attention span was your enemy, the doctors refused to believe it was possible for a girl to have adhd so in an attempt to at least end up salutatorian you had to turn to drastic measures. the solution to your problems was 5’7 with a crooked smile and he just so happened to sit next to you in english.

warnings | drug usage/dealing, mentions of sexual harassment, f!reader, possibly ooc!simon, probably inaccurate drug prices, reader has adhd.

word count | just shy of 2k

a/n | i saw gladiator ii and instantly fell back in love with fred hechinger just like everyone else. i know the fear street fandom is dead but that won't stop me writing for one of my favorite characters in horror. the fear street films meant a lot to me when they first came out and i'm having a lot of fun revisiting them. i haven't written for men in so long it feels so weird lol. i didn't edit this because i got sleepy, sorry. requests are open btw <3

You were an attempted overachiever at best. You were vice president of nearly every club, you were on the debate team, you volunteered in the library during your free periods, but your grades just weren’t up to par. During elementary and middle school you had soared above the rest, finishing assignments with ease, blowing through tests like they were nothing. But along came high school and you had begun to struggle. You had never learned to study, you never had a need for it, that overlooked area of school had suddenly snuck up on you and knocked you to your knees. Kate Schmidt had begun to surpass you in…well everything. She was top of the class and you were barely scraping by with low A’s and high B’s. To anyone else it seemed like you were doing alright but to you and your parents it wasn’t enough. You’d be first in the family to attend college and they would only settle for the best.

You were envious of her, cheer captain, valedictorian, president of every club in the goddamned school. You wondered how she had the time and hated how she didn’t struggle to study like you did. Despite your jealousy she had never been unkind to you, she was just perfect like that. She was for everyone in every clique, her best friends being a band geek and the school’s mascot. You had never really interacted with Deena, but Simon you were more familiar with. Every year without fail he had managed to end up in one of your classes and was always sitting near you. You had become friendly with one another, he’d go to you for homework answers every now and then and you hated to admit that it boosted your ego a bit that he’d come to you instead of Kate.

He had this boy next door charm that made him so lovable to you and a majority of the school. He always greeted you so kindly when you’d see him at the grocery store, flashing you a crooked smile and asking if you had come just to see him. You’d play along, playfully flirting with him till he had finished ringing up your items. Every now and then when you knew you’d be staying up late to try and focus on your studying you’d head to the supermarket. You’d grab two energy drinks and a couple snacks and head to Simon’s register. You didn’t care if there were others open, you would go to him every time. After you paid you’d slide him one of the cans and tell him to pick his choice from your snacks. The first time you did it he refused bashfully and you decided to pick for him, leaving him a can and a bag of skittles on his register and rushing out the door with a smile on your face as you heard him call after you. After that he knew to just accept your gifts, he really needed them during his doubles.

To many students he was known as the school's resident dealer, everyone from football players to the D&D club buying weed and pills off him at parties. Once you had even kept watch while your friends bought some weed off him, later that night when you toked up they had joked they should’ve had you buy. You rolled your eyes as they told you how he stared at you in your mini skirt and crop top as you stood in the doorway. You would never believe you’d be his type, he was kind and sociable enough to be popular in your mind, you doubted your debate skills would have him dropping to his knees.

This year he sat next to you in English, you’d look the other way and scoot your paper over whenever you noticed him trying to glance at your answers. He had taken notice and would accidentally apply his employee discount to a few of your purchases. He was your best bet at actually getting the medication your doctor had refused to prescribe.

You had woken up early that morning to get ready, you wanted to give yourself the best chance at a discount. You slipped on a v-neck black t-shirt and tucked it into your most school appropriate mini skirt, the silky material just barely resting below your fingertips. You had thrown a black cardigan over it and added a pair of sheer plaid tights and your favorite pair of combat boots. You even recreated the makeup you’d worn to the party he had allegedly stared at you at. Soft shimmery silver eyeshadow adorned your lids, thick eyeliner going right over it. You worked to create a cat eye look before applying mascara and a dark burgundy lip gloss. It was much different than how you usually showed up to school but it would be worth it, at least that’s what you told yourself.

You felt eyes on you as you got onto the bus that morning, you took your usual seat towards the back and pulled out a book, Crash by J. G. Ballard, and read it in an attempt to distract yourself from the stares and shitty comments. A few boys whistled at you jokingly, another asking when you decided to be hot. You ignored them, you just had to get through the rest of the day. Finally English rolled around and you walked to your seat, Simon already sat in this. His notebook covered in messy doodles sat on his desk, his elbow next to it as he rested his head in his hand. When he noticed you walk in, his eyes lit up, going from your face down to your short skirt. You sat next to him, sitting your bag on your lap as you retrieved your notebook and pencil case. He’s staring at you shamelessly. As you sit your bag down beneath your desk you turn your attention towards him, “Could we talk after class?” You ask, giving him a sweet smile.

“Uh, yeah, of course. I-I’ll see you then,” Simon answers, flustered. He mentally face palms, what the fuck does he mean he’ll see you then? He feels so stupid for saying that. He tries to distract himself by digging through his bag for a pencil, he realizes he definitely left it in his last period. He bites his lip and turns towards you almost bashfully. He scratches the back of his neck, “Hey, could I borrow a pencil? I lost mine.”

You smile and nod, “Of course.” You unzip your pencil case and hand him one of your pre sharpened pencils, your fingers brushing against his as he grabs it. You see his cheeks turn red and you smile to yourself. Simon has a hard time trying to focus for the rest of class, his eyes always wandering back to you and your short skirt. When the bell rings he breathes a sigh of relief, gathering his things and waiting for you to do the same. You stand and lean in to whisper to him, “You’ve got pills right?” When you pull away he’s smiling wide. He nods and grabs your wrist, leading you out of the classroom and down the hall. He looks around before pushing you into the out of order girls restroom.

“Never thought I’d see the day you’d be looking to buy,” He laughs, going into one of the stalls and opening a vent. He retrieves his box, his candy store as he calls it. He comes back out and flips the top off, giving you a look at his supplies.

“I can never focus long enough to study right, I just need some adderall to help. You have adderall right?” I ask, sounding a little more desperate than I meant to. I lean back against the sink counter as his eyes scan through the box.

“How much do you need? He asks, retrieving a bottle out of the box before shutting it and setting it on the sink next to you.

“I don’t really know yet…I guess like a week's worth for now? I need to make sure it helps me before I go all in, y’know?” You reply, you eye the bottle nervously, tiny blue capsules filling it to the brim. “How much would that cost me? I don’t have a lot of money to blow, but-”

“How much do you have?” Simon asks, cutting you off.

“Uhh $15…I know it’s nowhere near enough but-”

Simon cuts you off again, “It’ll do.”

You furrow your brows, “Really? You don’t have to give me a discount just because-”

He cuts you off a third time and you feel annoyance bubble up in your chest, “I want to give you a discount and you should really take it, I don’t do this for many other people y’know.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You ask. Sure, you had hoped for a discount but this big of a discount is the last thing you were expecting.

Simon nervously scratches at the back of his neck as he answers you, “You always buy me snacks when you know I’m working, you share your answers with me during English even if you’d never admit it…and you’re pretty so that helps too,” he chuckles.

“So I’m getting the pretty girl discount then?”

“That’s the one thing you got out of that?” He laughs and shakes his head, “Y’know what, yeah sure, you’re getting the pretty girl discount.”

You run your tongue across your bottom lip and cross your arms over your chest, taking a step towards him. “Would I get even more of a discount if I gave you my number?” His compliments have boosted your confidence much further than you’d expected.

He looks down at you, having a great view of your tits in your v-neck. “I could take another $5 bucks off.”

“My number’s only worth $5 to you?” You joke, taking another step towards him, toe to toe with him now. You can smell his cologne from where you stand, it makes you want to bury your face in his chest.

“You’re lucky I’m giving you that, I could always look you up in the phone book, y’know.”

Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, “I’ll take that $5 off then.”

He laughs, “I’m sure you will.”

You grab your notebook from your backpack and rip out a paper, scribbling your phone number across it as Simon slips seven of the pills into a bag for you. You hand him the paper and he hands you the bag.

“Did you wear that hoping to get a discount?” He asks, pocketing the paper.

“I might’ve…did it help?”

“You could’ve showed up in a sweater and sweatpants and I would’ve given you that discount anyway.” He reaches forward, grabbing the hem of your skirt, rubbing the soft material between his fingers. “This skirt’s cute though, you should wear it more often,” He looks back up at you, hand going to your thigh, “Do you really need to go to next period? We could always skip the phone call and just-”

You sigh, looking down at his hand and biting your lip. “I probably should, unfortunately. Call me after work, we’ll pick up where we left off…promise.” You say as you look back into his eyes.

He smiles and nods, “I’ll call you, I’ll be off late. Will you be awake after midnight?”

“I will, just for you, Simon.”

Before he can respond the bell rings. “Oh fuck, we’re late!” You exclaim, grabbing your backpack off the sink. Simon kisses your cheek and runs back into the stall to hide the box back in the vent. Your hand goes up to where he kissed you and you speed walk towards the door, “I’ll be waiting for your call!” You yell before running off to class, starting to think up an excuse that’ll sound believable and keep your perfect attendance record untouched.

#divider by cafekitsune #fred hechinger #fear street 1994 #simon kalivoda #simon kalivoda x reader #simon kalivoda imagine #simon kalivoda/reader #simon kalivoda/you

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bluekidchaos · 3 days ago

Text

Holding you again

here's to hoping i write a bit more this year!!

Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, post-second wizarding war, severus snape lives, mostly suggestive smut, fluffy smut, some angst

Words: 1,3k

Can also be read on AO3!

Back to masterlist.

I had accepted my death from the very beginning -knowing it was inevitable- and I had made my peace with it, mostly. Many regrets haunt me but the biggest one is leaving her behind with my timely demise. Those regrets hit me as that damned snake lunged at me, as I gave Potter my tears, as I could feel my life slip from me. One final thought before I disappear, forgive me.

My lungs are on fire, no, I think I'm drowning? Maybe it's both. My whole body aches, my ears are ringing and I can't see, it's too bright or.. maybe too dark? Is this what hell feels like? It must be, eternal agony.

There's shouting around me, movement, it sounds like her, but it can't be. I'm dead. It's just a last cruel joke from the universe.

A muffled voice tears through my senses. "Sev? I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can, I just wanted to say.. I miss you, please come back to me." A cruel joke indeed.

Severus wakes up with a yell, the searing pain jolting him upwards making him almost double over in the bed. Frantically looking around him for any sign that he's in danger. The lights are blinding him but he can faintly make out that he's in a hospital.

A healer runs into the room, a young woman he recognizes having taught a couple of years prior. She says something to him but the ringing in his ears is too loud.

Severus is on edge. While he's sure he's at St. Mungos, he doesn't know whether Voldemort is dead or if he's actually safe.

His senses are working overtime now. Severus is holding one hand towards the ceiling trying to shield his eyes from the harsh light. The ringing is slowly starting to cease and some words are getting through to him.

"Professor? ... Can you - me?" The woman notices his aversion to the light and dims it a bit.

Severus tries to speak back but only gargled noises come out and he finally acknowledges the pain in his throat. Feeling like someone tore it out and put it all back wrong.

"Don't try to speak, you're still healing. Here, you must be thirsty." She hands him a glass with a straw in it. The first sip feels like heaven, if he were alone he'd probably let out an audible moan at how good it felt.

Another healer comes in shortly after, a man this time, that Severus knows from when he has supplied the hospital with potions. He explains everything to Severus, Voldemort was defeated by Potter, and they won the war. He was in critical condition when they brought him here and he's been in a coma for six months.

Severus's thoughts start spiraling, it's been half a year. Where are you? Are you okay, alive?

The older healer tells him to rest but Severus can't stop thinking about you, and he also just woke up from a coma, how much more rest does he really need?

Whether he wanted to or not Severus did end up falling asleep again and when he woke you're sitting by his side, reading a book. He doesn't wanna disturb you at first, just takes some time to take you in. Your hair is tucked behind your ears, lower lip trapped between teeth while you focus on the words in the book.

It takes a couple of minutes before you look up from your book and notice his eyes on you but when you do you almost throw your book aside and jump at him. Landing perhaps a bit too roughly over him you embrace him in a tight hug, sobbing in relief.

"You really are awake! Oh merlin, I thought.. I-" Another sob broke through you and Severus held on tighter, he wanted to say something, to comfort you. Tell you it was okay now, but nothing came out.

Severus spent another six months in St. Mungos before they let him go home. During this time you were by his side every day. He regained his speaking abilities, his voice was still hoarse and would probably continue to be but at least he could talk again. The pain had mostly subsided into a dull background feeling.

The moment he stepped foot into their home he felt himself relax properly for the first time in a year. Fatigue hitting him pretty hard too, he wanted nothing more than to just go to bed and hold you.

You broke the silence first, "I think we could both use a nice hot bath right about now, hm?"

He only nodded at your proposal, a bath didn't sound too bad, he could still relax and he did need to wash off probably.

While the bathwater ran you helped each other undress, planting soft kisses over the exposed skin, gentle touches over faded scars.

Eventually moving into the bathroom you add some oils and bubbles to the water before stepping into it. Severus joins shortly after and once he's made himself comfortable you lean back against his strong chest.

His arms move to encircle you, holding you tightly like he's scared you'll disappear at any second. You let the silence envelop you, no words were needed.

Severus could feel his need for you rising with every second he had you in his arms, never wanting to let you go again. He started trailing kisses along your neck.

You moaned slightly in response and let your head fall back against his shoulder to give him more access. Feeling his arms untangle themself a little, one trailed up to cup your chest and the other slowly made its way down between your thighs.

The hand on your breasts groping you and rolling your nipples between his fingers while his other hand starts making slow and deliberate circles around your clit.

You whine into his ear and your legs fall open as much as the little tub lets them. A hand of your own reaches above you to tangle into his hair and guide his head to plant kisses on his face.

While his fingers are working you into a frenzy he captures your lips with a passionate and intense kiss, all the words you didn't say to each other before transferred through the kiss. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip to ask for entry.

You open your mouth to him, letting his tongue and taste overwhelm your senses, your tongue coming to meet his in a lazy battle for dominance that he eventually won.

Severus could feel you tense above him and his fingers sped up. You felt yourself getting closer to the edge, neither of you caring to drag out the moment much. It was pure desperation and need, longing for each other.

He had broken your kiss to catch his breath but his forehead was still connected to yours, not daring to break too much contact with you. "Let go my darling, I love you so much.."

Your orgasm washed over you softly, Severus's fingers slowing down a bit to not overstimulate you but keeping the movement up to extend your pleasure.

Only when he felt you relax in his arms again did he stop. He was back to kissing you, less hurried this time, just full of emotions and softness.

You pulled back a little to look at him, feeling tears well up in your eyes you just smiled at him.

Severus wiped away a stray tear before kissing you on the cheek and smiling back at you, seemingly understanding you. He kissed your face and head a few more times before letting you sink down more into the warmth of the tub and his embrace.

You stayed in the tub long after the water turned cold just holding on to each other.

#severus snape #severus snape x reader #severus snape smut #snape x reader #severus snape fanfiction #harry potter #hp #pro-snape

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mythica0 · 3 days ago

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Ok, I kinda feel greedy asking for this.. but that Poseidon x Amphitrite fix was so good I just HAVE to have seconds! X3

Can we maybe get a Part 2..?

What if Poseidon got into a massive Lee Mood? Because, he keeps thinking back to that one night and how nice it was, and.. he wants more of it. But he'd sooner get stabbed in the face with his own trident before he ever admits that!

But with nothing else working to quell this annoying feeling he soon realizes he doesn't have a choice. So one night imagine Poseidon's just sitting there beside his wife, mumbling and stuttering over his words, blushing like an idiot and making 0 eye contact as he struggles to make this request as indirectly & vaguely as possible. But Amphitrite's able to catch on surprisingly fast, and she's more than willing to grant her husband's wish. He just has to ask~ 😉

The whole prompt is basically Amphitrite teasing the hell out of her husband, and this time, she's a lot more ruthless (get it~?) in her attacks (i.e. lots of upper body tkls, gill tkls, neck kisses & belly raspberries).

(P.S. Out of slight curiosity, since I know everyone has different visual descriptions for Poseidon in their stories- does your Poseidon have gills on his sides/ribs or his neck? Sometimes I get a lil confused while reading. 😅 Which specific artist's version of him (AnniFlamma's, Neal's, Gigi's, aulith's, Willows', etc.) are you envisioning when you write him?)

Stupid moods

🎂: Epic the musical

🧁:Poseidon

🍫:Amphitrite

Summary: after a sweet night of tickly cuddles, Poseidon finds himself craving more, much to his dismay.

A/N: this is soooo cute absolutely!! Also, this is a sequel to Sweet Lovin’ so read that first! Not sure I like the ending, but whatever.

Happy new year and Enjoyyyyy!! :D

(P.s: my version/picture his gills are on his neck, and because I’m an artist I imagine my own design!:3)

Stupid moods

Poseidon was irritated.

The previous night, his loving wife have given him a night of cuddles, which ended up with him being gently tickled until they went to sleep.

And now he wanted more. And he hated it.

He felt all buzzy and fizzy, like a soda can that had been shaken. And it was so. Annoying.

All day he tried to ignore it. Pretend it didn’t exist.

All day he yelled at his brain to stop.

But it just wouldn’t listen. Pictures and daydreams flooded his head without his permission, and it was getting difficult to focus.

Obviously, he could just ask his wife to help him, but that was so embarrassing he thinks he might actually rather be skewered by his own trident.

So on the day went, this stupid mood growing and growing with every minute it went unsatisfied.

And finally, it reached a point where Poseidon couldn’t take anymore. If he didn’t do something about this dumb craving now it was going to be a problem. He didn’t really have much choice, unless he wanted to live with this annoying, insufferable buzzing for the rest of his immortal existence.

So, when he climbed into bed with his wife, ready to relax and then go to sleep, he attempted to ask. But it was still incredibly embarrassing, so he stuttered and blushed and really struggled to get the words out.

“Hey, darling?”

Amphitrite looked over curiously. “Yes, my dear?”

“Can you- uh.” He failed to say it directly, needing to find work arounds. “Can you do the- the thing?”

Amphitrite tilted her head a little in confusion, and Poseidon was looking anywhere but in her eyes. This was quite out of character for Poseidon, so Amphitrite was reasonably curious. “I’m sorry?”

“Y- Y’know, the thing. The one you- the thing you did last night?”

At these words, Amphitrite’s eyes widened in realization, a small, fond smile gracing her features.

“Of course honey. But.” She paused for dramatic effect. “I want you to ask. Directly.” Her voice was soft and gentle, but also teasing, making Poseidons already intense blush even worse.

“Uh- I-“ he stuttered a bit, still incredibly flustered and embarrassed.

“Well, if you want something you have to ask for it! It’s only polite.” She teased again, clearly enjoying the lighthearted chance to mess with him.

He stammered for quite some time, but eventually managed to spew it out, the words quick and tumbling as if he was trying to rip it off like a bandaid. “Pleasetickleme!”

As he finally succeeded, Amphitrite smiled and pushed Poseidon down so he was lying rather than sitting. “Of course, my love.”

She leaned down to whisper in his ear, her voice low and teasing. “Your safe word is trident. Use it wisely, because once you say it, I’m done.”

Once he nodded, she pulled back, putting on an uncharacteristic sort of tickle monster persona. “You know, since you asked, I’m not going to be merciful.”

Poseidon tried and failed to mask the excited shiver that he felt at the words.

“You’re going to be a hysterical, breathless mess by the time I’m through with you. No matter how much you beg me to stop, I won’t. I am free to do whatever I want to you, and no matter how bad it tickles, you can’t do anything about it.”

Her voice was sinister and mischievous, in a playful sort of way, not genuinely evil by any sense of the word. That teasing lilt, full of a playful kind of mischief, sent butterflies racing through Poseidon’s tummy, excitement zipping along his spine.

“Are you ready, darling?”

He gave a small, sheepish nod in response, and without any further words, Amphitrite started to rake her claws over his ribs, a fast, gentle motion that left him no chance to hold back his giggles.

“Ehahahahaha Oho myhyhy- ehehehe!”

“Haha, such cute little giggles, my dear~” Amphitrite teased, cooing in a way that made Poseidon blush all the more, his face turning a light pink.

Poseidon squirmed slightly under the hold, despite not wanting to get away. It was overwhelming. It was torturous. It was exactly what he wanted.

She scratched and scribbled at his ribs, pinching up and down the bones. Poseidon squirmed and giggled, unable to stop himself from laughing as that fizzy feeling fully exploded into a ticklish, tingly sensation of butterflies in his stomach.

“Eehehahaha ahaha- ihihi- ehehehee!” He was unable to get words out, not knowing what to say, or wanting to put in the effort to speak clearly through his joyful, bubbly giggles.

Amphitrite cooed, leaning over her husband teasingly as she raked along his ribs. “Tickle tickle tickle~”

Poseidon erupted into a much deeper blush, and as much as he hated to admit it his giggles grew a little more frantic at the teasing.

“Nohoho-! Dohohont dohoho thahat!”

“Do what?”

“Sahahay thehe wohord!”

“Oh? What word? Tickle?” She smirked, feigning ignorance.

“Yehehehehes! Thahat wohord!”

“Hmm.. I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands, my dear. Besides, it’s such a fun word, isn’t it?” She grinned playfully, moving up to scratch at his armpits as she began to tease once again.

“Tickletickletickletickletickle! tktktktktktk!”

Poseidon let out a small, giggly squeal. “Eehehehehe nohohoho!”

Amphitrite smirked, speeding up the scratching, to which she got frantic protests.

“Ahahahahaha! Whyhy- hahahahahaha-!”

Amphitrite huffed a laugh. “Every time you say ‘no’ or ‘stop’ or ‘don’t, anything of the sort- I’ll make it worse.”

“Whahahahahat?! YohOU cahahant doho thahat!”

“Actually, I very much can. Remember, you aren’t in control here, darling.” She emphasized the endearing nickname, making her voice low and teasing. Which, of course, caused Poseidon’s blush to double in size.

“Aww, how cute! You’re turning all red~ is my teasing getting you all embarrassed and flustered~?” She cooed slightly, which only intensified the mentioned blush.

“Nohohoho-! Dohohont tehehease!”

Amphitrite immediately increased the pressure on the touch, turning it into drilling. “What did I say about protesting, hmm~?”

Poseidon’s laughter grew in pitch, frantic but still joyful. “AhahahahahHA-! Ohoho myhyhy gohods thahat TIHIHICKLES-!”

“That’s the point, honey~”

Amphitrite trailed her hands down his sides, a light, teasing touch, leading all the way down to his hips. Once she reached the spot, she squeezed and then drilled into the divots of the bone.

“GYahahahahaha! Nohohoho-! PlehehehEASE-!”

“That’s more protesting, darling~”

Getting the implication of the teasing words, Poseidon frantically protested, only digging his grave deeper.

“Nononono- dahaharlihing plehehehehease-!”

Amphitrite ignored the protests, continuing to drill into his hips and also going up to pepper tickly kisses all over his neck.

At the new, more gentle touch, the sea god scrunched up, his giggles becoming more bubbly.

As much as he was protesting, Poseidon was having the time of his life right now. It tickled so damn much, and he loved it.

While still sprinkling kisses all over his neck and ears, Amphitrite moved her hands to scribble at his belly, making sure to use her claws for extra ticklishness.

“EE- ahahahahaha- dahaharlihing-!” He erupted into louder laughter once more, squirming uncontrollably. He arched his back slightly, which only increased the pressure of the nails on his tummy, making him laugh even louder.

“Yes dear?”

“Ihi- ehehehehe-!” Poseidon had to cut himself off from protesting, knowing it would only make it worse for him.

“Ahh, you’re learning. Let’s see if I can get you to protest some more~”

The words sent shivers down Poseidon’s spine, a frantic, giddy nervousness settled in his chest and stomach. Amphitrite removed her hands from his tummy, and started to blow raspberries there instead.

“EE- nohoho- ahahahaha-!” Poseidon failed to stop the fruitless pleas that spilt from him, squirming around and laughing loudly as his tummy was assaulted with ticklish sensations.

“Hehe, there we go~ now I get to make it worse~”

“AhahHA- PlehehehEASE- myhy lohoHOVE-“

She ignored his pleading, starting to add nibbles with the raspberries on his tummy, using her claws to trace his ear fins at the same time, the conflicting feelings of harsh versus gentle driving him crazy.

“AHAHA- ehehahahHA- ohoho myhy- pleheheHEASE-!”

Amphitrite decided to let up for a moment. “Ah, fine. I don’t want you to give up just yet~”

She stopped the raspberries, and started to just gently trace along his sides, making sure to tease at his ribs, drawing swirling patterns along his skin that left him in a fit of bubbly giggles. He was a little embarrassed to say that he melted at the touch, the gentle shapes relaxing him.

“Aww, look at that. You’re turning into a little puddle of giggles~”

Poseidon didn’t bother to deny it, a few contented hums mixing with his warm giggles. Amphitrite waited until his eyes were closed and he was super relaxed, then she suddenly stopped the tracing.

“Whaha-“ Poseidon’s confused protests of why she stopped were cut off by a scream of laughter as she blew a massive raspberry over his gills, using her hands to scribble and scratch at the gills in the other side of his neck.

“AHAHAHAHA- OHOHO GOHOHODS NOHOT THEHEHERE PLEHEHEHEEASE!” His laughter immediately grew loud and hysterical, his shoulders scrunching fruitlessly to try and block the sensation.

He protested frantically through squeaky, loud laughter despite not meaning any of this. It was absolute torture, complete and utter insanity. And he loved it.

His face was flushed from laughter, tears falling from his eyes as his stomach quivered and trembled from all the laughing.

“Oo, looks like this is a lovely little sweet spot, hmm~?” Amphitrite’s teasing made Poseidon’s already flushed face even redder, his cheeks feeling like they’re on fire from the warmth rushing to them.

“AHAHAHA MYHY LOHOVE- AHAHA- PLEHEHEHEASEE!” He struggles to speak through his laughter, gasping for air in between the loud, joyful sounds.

Then Amphitrite moved both her hands to scratch at his gills, even wiggling slightly underneath to the insides. And just when Poseidon thought it couldn’t get any worse better, she added raspberries and nibbles to his tummy, especially over his navel.

Poseidon couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All he was in that moment was just pure, complete, joyful laughter. All his thoughts could say was ‘it tickles, it tickles, it tickles!’ It was so maddening, so amazingly horrible. As much joy as this was providing, Poseidon really was struggling to breathe now, his stamina running low and his sides starting to ache from the workout, his limit thoroughly reached.

“TRIHIHIDENT-!”

As soon as the magic word was said, Amphitrite stopped. Poseidon panted with leftover giggles, feeling intense lingering tingles over his gills. He had a feeling that he would be struck by giggles just at the thought for weeks to come.

“Aha… Wohow..” he panted out, going to wipe his eyes from the tears, but Amphitrite got there first.

“Are you okay, my dear?”

“Yeheah… I’m Ahalright. Juhust.. neheed a minute.” He giggled, taking deep breaths to try and get the air back into his lungs and the warmth in his face to cool down.

“Was it everything you wanted?”

Poseidon’s brain was so thoroughly turned to mush from the maddening feeling that he couldn’t even think straight enough to be embarrassed, just giving a sleepy hum. He was exhausted after that.

“Would you like some water?”

“Yehes please..” Poseidon answered quietly, and Amphitrite stood up to go get him some.

Poseidon found that he couldn’t stop giggling for the life of him. He still felt it. It was as if it was so intense that it was burned into his nerves and it wouldn’t go away, leaving happy, giddy feelings lingering along his gills.

Short after Amphitrite returned with a glass of water, handing it to him. “Drink slowly, love.”

He just hummed in agreement, sipping off the water for a while as Amphitrite gently rubbed her hand along his stomach to try and ease the leftover tingles.

“Okay, let’s go to bed. I’m guessing you’re tired after that, huh?”

Poseidon hummed as he set down the now empty water glass. They cuddled up in the bed, and Poseidon gave a contented, sleepy hum.

Sleep didn’t take long to descend upon him, and he fell asleep in the comfort of Amphitrite’s loving arms.

———THE END———————————————————-

#sfw tickle community #parrotwrites #epic the musical tickles #lee!poseidon #ler!amphitrite

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