#honestly I’d tag every mutual but
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Happy new year!! 🥳
Honestly, getting into the welcome home fandom was the best thing that happened to me. I met a bunch of amazing people, i cant imagine being without them <3 To all my friends, mutuals, followers, Clown, and the welcome home team, thank you for brightening up my year 💛💐
#honestly I’d tag every mutual but#oh boy that would be a lot-#and I’m shy 👉👈#YALL KNOW WHO U ARE THO#love u all <3#also yall gonna remind me to post on tumblr…#wack me over the head!!!#bribe me!!#whatever it takes!!!#welcome home#my art#welcome home fanart#undertale au#sans undertale#papyrus undertale#welcome home oc#new year#many many tags#ngl gonna go cry HAH#still can’t believe the years ending-#it was kinda ass- until I found wh#anyways rambling over#<3
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I was tagged by @butchdiaz to do a 2024 fic roundup! In 2024 I posted 29 fics for a total of 201,143 words, which is the most I've ever posted to Ao3 in a single year (that that doesn't count the 75k wip I have in the works right now or the other 40k of wips I have, don't look at me). In 2024 I also posted my favourite fic I've ever written and posted a fic every month.
January
one is one too many, one more is never enough (2.2k | teen) Hangovers, drunken love confessions, getting together
They say hangovers get worse as you get older. Buck never believed that until his first hangover in his thirties hit him like a fucking freight train. He’d spent the entire day moving between the couch and the bathroom throwing up and had vowed to never get that drunk again.
every road and every highway led me right back to your door (Teen) Accidental baby acquisition, magic!Stiles
Derek would like it noted that he had been in way worse situations before. He would like that on the official record. His current predicament honestly doesn’t even make the top five worst situations he’s ever been in. It might not even make the top ten.
if you keep reachin' out (then I'll keep comin' back) (2k | teen) Rescue, minor injury, hurt!Eddie
“Don’t make me jealous,” Buck said, leaning in close and tugging at Eddie’s clips like he hadn’t already tested them three times.
“I would never,” Eddie winked, relishing the way Buck blushed. It probably wasn’t the best idea to flirt with Buck before a rescue but Eddie couldn’t help himself. He’d been struggling with keeping his feelings for Buck locked down for months now, maybe even longer if he was honest with himself.
We don't even have to try, it's always a good time (2.2k | Explicit) Established relationship, closet sex
“Can I help you?” Eddie asked, fighting back a smile because Buck looked a little bit like he’d just swallowed a lemon. He was pretty sure Buck wasn’t in here to touch his dick, not with that look on his face.
February
there ain't no turning back (28.3k | Explicit) Road trips, mutual pining, sharing a bed, future fic
Eddie let out a yelp when he finally took in the room. It was a two queen room, white blankets, a TV, a desk and chair near the window, nothing about the furniture was strange, except for the fact that Buck was lounging on the bed closest to the windows, his legs crossed at the ankles, feet clad in MIT socks that he’d gotten for himself the day Chris sent his application in because Buck was that confident he’d get in.
March
lay your cards down, down, down (6.3k | Mature) Bachelor party, woke up married, friends to husbands
At that moment a few things happened at once that all felt equality important. Buck noticed a black ring on Eddie’s ring finger. Buck felt Eddie’s hard cock pressed against his hip. And Buck saw a matching black ring on his own ring finger. Maybe it was silly to put Eddie’s hard cock at the same level as what looked a lot like wedding rings, but it felt just as important as the other two observations.
Baby, take me (4.4k | Explicit) Fluff and smut, bachelor party, love confessions
“Pretty sure I turned it off just fine last night,” Eddie said with a smirk that went straight to Buck’s cock, already half hard just from the way Eddie’s stubble is dragging across his skin. “Is that how I get you to stop thinking?”
I want to be your fantasy (maybe you could be mine) (7.2k | Explicit) Bachelor party, pole dancing, former stripper Eddie
“I’m going to be really good at this class,” Eddie said, his voice low. “Because one of my jobs before moving to L.A. was stripping. You’re the first person who didn’t work at the club or go to the club to know that and I’d prefer if it stayed that way.”
April
ain't no lie (bi bi bi) (8.6k | explicit) Eddie/Tommy, friends with benefits, jealous!Buck, pre-relationship Buddie
Eddie fools around with Tommy, Buck is jealous, Tommy's just trying to have a good time
kiss him once for me (935 words | gen) Feelings realization, pining, pre-relationship Buddie
Nothing changed between them. Or at least, nothing changed until he sees Buck and Tommy kiss.
give your heart and soul to charity (12.5k | teen) Character study, Catholic guilt, coming out, getting together
Eddie dumps God, gets some more therapy, accepts parts of himself he was taught to hate, loves his best friend, and loves himself.
wipe your mouth when you done (4.1k | Mature) Hockey AU, hockey fights, injury recovery
Buck would like it on record that he didn’t go looking for the video of Eddie’s fight with Jonah Greenway because he didn’t even know Eddie had gotten in a fight with Jonah Greenway. Ravi sent the video into the group chat with the comment that “Fans are weirdly horny over fights” and no other context.
May
keep on whispering in my ear (2.1k | explicit) Drunk hookups, infidelity, pre-relationship buddie
Eddie and Buck get extremely drunk at Chim's bachelor party and hook up
June
I'll Show You Magic (7k | explicit) Alternate universe - magic, witch!Eddie, Witch!Buck, different first meeting
"Who the hell are you?" Buck asks before his brain to mouth filter is fully online.
"Eddie," The guy - Eddie - says with an amused little smile pulling at his mouth. "I'm guessing you're Buck. Lucy said you’d be coming in and that you don't have much of a filter."
July
so far away but still so near (6.2k | Teen) Eddie & Lucy & Ravi friendship, personal growth, coming out
In which Eddie Diaz learns who he is outside of being a father, builds some new friendships, and loves his best friend
loves a game, wanna play? (57.5k | Mature) Love Island AU, Post S7, the silliest thing I've ever written
In the aftermath of Chris leaving for the summer, Buck convinces Eddie they should apply for Love Island together.
August
baby, get me off again (2.4k | Explicit) Lutalia, casual sex, praise kink, semi-public sex
“Natalia Dollenmeyer.”
“I remember,” Lucy turned in her seat so she was facing Natalia. “At the risk of sounding like a bad pickup artist, what’s a beautiful woman like you doing alone in a bar like this.”
from the ashes (5.6k | teen) Art as therapy, Eddie fic, getting together, self discovery
A call at an art studio inspires Eddie to take an art class, it turns out he kind of loves it.
September
I can fix that (4.2k | Mature) Flirting, teasing, pining, Eddie's moustache, home improvement
“What’s what?” Eddie asked, but the smile tugging at his mouth, the smile that was just slightly obscured by the hottest mustache Buck had ever fucking seen, told Buck Eddie knew exactly what he was talking about.
how to slay a dragon (2k | gen) Uncle Eddie, babysitting, Jee-Yun, playing make believe
Buck didn't know what to expect when he walked into the Han house. He definitely hadn’t expected to see Eddie sitting on the floor with Jee in front of him carefully french braiding her hair. He also hadn’t expected Eddie to be wearing a pink sparkly tiara. He definitely hadn’t expected Eddie to smile up at Buck when he saw him with soft eyes, eyes that didn’t feel like looking into an ocean of sadness, and carefully tie the end of one of the braids he was working on with a little bow.
The Pink Fairy (2.6k | teen) Magic!Stiles, mystery, banter
“Derek Hale, as I live and breathe,” Stiles grinned at him, leaning his elbows on the bar so he could get closer to Derek. It wasn’t loud, not yet. Not at 4pm, but Stiles had never really figured out how to stay out of Derek’s personal space. Apparently, years of distance between them hadn’t magically solved that for him.
the cat's meow (4.2k | explicit) Cats, love confessions, hand jobs
Eddie adopts a cat and let's himself have good things.
October
Gimme S'more (1.8k | Teen) Fluff, s'mores, flirting
“Damn, you’re right,” Buck’s laugh was bright. He’s been brighter in the last month, since Bobby finally got the captain's seat back and since Chris came home. Since basically everything that was royally fucking their lives up and the team’s lives finally ended.
Sweet as Pumpkin Pie (2.3k | Gen) Uncle Eddie, Uncle Buck, pumpkin patches, Jee-Yun, fluff
“That’s pretty cool,” Eddie said and Jee nodded at both of them, her hair already coming out of the little pigtails that Maddie had put it in when they picked her up. “How many pumpkins do you think it took to build it?”
“A billion!” Jee yelled, running through the pumpkin house with a giggle.
A-maze-ing (2.7k | Teen) Corn maze, fluff, autumn
“Would you want t-to go with me? To the haunted pumpkin patch?” Buck asked, sounding way too nervous for asking Eddie to go to a pumpkin patch. Unless - Unless.
Unless Buck wasn’t just asking him to go to a pumpkin patch. Unless Buck was asking Eddie on a date to the pumpkin patch. Eddie felt something warm and fizzy bubbling in his chest. He kind of felt like he might bubble up and float away, so filled with joy at the prospect of Buck asking him out. Of Buck wanting him that way.
all dressed up (with somewhere to go) (3.4k | Teen) Mistaken Identity, getting together, making out, fluff and humor
“Hey,” Buck grinned when he reached Spider-man, grabbing him by the wrist to turn him around. He peeled the mask up just enough to kiss him. That was weird too, he’d never had to lean down to kiss Tommy before, even if it was only by an inch. Maybe the boots Buck was wearing had a bigger sole than he’d realized.
The kiss didn’t feel like Tommy either, his lips were softer and fuller than usual, but Buck chalked that up to the tequila. It was a good kiss though, that was the thing. It was a great kiss. He didn’t want to stop kissing him and actually, he didn’t have to. Buck wrapped his arms around him and deepened the kiss, groaning just a little when he felt Tommy wrap his arms around Buck too.
“Evan?”
November
please don't go (646 words | Gen) 8x08 Coda, inspired by fanart, pining
"Don't go."
The words are trapped in a cage at the back of Buck's throat. Every time he's opened his mouth in the last week he's had to speak around them. He feels like a tiger pacing his enclosure, like he's going to snap at the bars if anyone gets too close.
December
I should be pushing daisies (5.5k | Teen) Character study, light angst, love confessions, happy ending, extend metaphors
“I miss you so much, man,” Eddie says as easy as anything. Like those words don’t have the power to breathe life back into Buck’s body and steal that breath back at the same time. “It’s dumb but - I guess I didn’t realize how ingrained you are in my life until suddenly you weren’t there.”
“I-I miss you too,” Buck manages to say, though he has no idea if he sounds normal or if he sounds like there’s an anvil on his chest.
I took a little journey to the unknown (4.1k | Teen) Hurt Eddie, dreams, medical inaccuracies, holding hands, love confessions
Eddie groans, his tongue feels too big for his mouth and his thoughts are moving slowly, like they’re trying to wade through pudding and getting stuck on the way to his mouth.
“I-it’s okay, you don’t have to talk,” Buck says and the comforting warmth is back on Eddie’s hand. The only thought that rings clearly through his head is that Buck’s hand is safe. Buck is going to keep him safe. “Just - can you squeeze my hand if you’re awake?”
That feels nearly impossible, his body feels like lead, heavy and useless, but for Buck he can try. He focuses and squeezes as tightly as he can - it’s not very tight, but that doesn’t seem to matter when Buck lets out a long breath and then a choked sob.
no pressure tagging @inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @queerdiazs @thekristen999 @glorious-spoon
@jeeyuns @vanmarkus @actualalligator @elvensorceress @sibylsleaves
@rainbow-nerdss @organizedstardust @spotsandsocks @shitouttabuck @generatorkitty
@hawkbutt @jesuisici33 @cal-daisies-and-briars @bekkachaos @cranberrymoons @diazsdimples
@devirnis @daffi-990 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @honestlydarkprincess
@lonelychicago @monsterrae1 @dangerpronebuddie
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okay in the tags of ur polyam ghostface cooking post you said driving with them would be worse? and I’d be really interested in hearing ur thoughts abt that 👀
A/N: nonny is referencing this ancient post. because the ask is that old. i am but an easily distracted creature of the night, once again. sorry for the wait nonny!
For starters, you can’t let Stu be the one driving. He does not obey the rules of the road. You’re not even sure he knows the rules of the road. If he does, he’s breaking the rules at a frequency level that implies driving unsafely is a casual hobby for him. Like knitting.
Billy is a better driver. Not always, just when you’re in the car. He’s not gonna risk your life because he likes to go fast and run red lights when he doesn’t see anyone coming.
He’s such a stickler for following the rules in front of you that he side eyes you when you don't do the same. Yes, ladies and gentleman, and gathered beloveds, Billy Loomis is an awful backseat driver.
He will comment on nearly everything you do while driving the car. Didn’t turn on your signal before changing lines? He noticed. Going over the speed limit? Noticed. Going under the speed limit? Noticed. Didn’t slow down for that curve in the road? Hmmm… lots of things you’re doing wrong. Maybe you should just let him drive.
If you want to be passenger seat royalty then congratulations! Here’s your boyfriend! If you enjoy driving you will be running to call shotgun on driving, every-time,. Running to beat your boyfriend to the driver’s side car door. Daily humiliation rituals, truly.
It’s enough that you guys have snapped at one another before and finished the drive home in icy silence. You tried to come around to apologize (even though you were not in the wrong) because you know he’s only worried about your safety.
Also, you were expecting a mutual apology (Billy always sounds pissy, he does not sound any nicer than usual as he’s correcting your driving habits from the passenger seat.)
So why on Earth did he have to piss you off by saying: “I accept your apology. Just wish you’d pay more attention to the road, honestly.” You have to kill him. It’s the only option left.
Stu certainly doesn’t help this hostile road environment because he blasts your eardrums to shit every time he gets the AUX. He will also play annoying music on purpose, because he thinks escalating situations is funny.
He starts playing break up R&B if you guys start really getting into it. Cue Billy turning around to the backseat: “What is your fucking problem, Stu?!”
(One time Stu turned on “I Should Have Cheated by Keyshia Cole” and Billy reached back and started hitting Stu at full strength. You had to pull over the car. What happened to car safety, Billy? What happened to there should be no distractions in the car, Billy?)
Stu would be in charge of navigation but Billy is such a control freak that he can’t let anyone besides himself do it. When he’s the one driving he puts on the navigation voice that tells you when turns are coming up. It interrupts whatever music you have playing every five seconds. He refuses to let you be his navigator. It’s for the better, because if you give Billy a direction too late for him to obey said direction he has to press his lips together very tightly to keep his outside voice from leaving his body in an inside space.
It’s enough to want to just take a fucking Uber.
#stu macher x reader#billy loomis x reader#poly ghostface x reader#black!reader#i would NOT put myself through this#what fucking ever just let me ride passenger and try and get through it#i'd bring a sleep mask you two are NOT endangering my fucking peace
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Title: Into the Abyss of Bad Habits — Bonus Scene I (can be read as part 4)
Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Oliver Sykes x Reader | Words: 6.2k
Tags: polyamorous relationship, men in denial, a lot of swearing, angst, sexual content including p in v (protected), oral (m. receiving), masturbation.
Sheffield, United Kingdom
Summer 2024
I had barely wrapped the towel around my body when the sound of their escalating voices pierced through the tranquility of the house.
They were having an argument, and it wasn’t going good.
I rushed out of the bathroom and down to the living room, the urgency in my movements nearly causing me to lose my footing as I rounded the landing of Oliver’s home, my heart racing with a mix of confusion and concern.
Arriving in the living room, with my hair tied in a messy bun and my body clad only in the towel, I was met with a disconcerting sight. Oliver and Noah were standing in the middle of the living room, glaring, and shouting at each other. Both ignored me. Luna was conspicuously absent.
As I gazed between them, I noted their rigid positions and how charged their voices were. I had never seen them so heated. The smell of the heavy lunch we’d had that morning still lingered, but the atmosphere felt oppressive. The tv was murmuring in the background. Noah’s hoodie thrown casually on the armrest and Oliver’s MacBook still open on the other side of the sofa.
“Why all the shouting?” I questioned; my voice laced with concern as I surveyed the look on their faces, their expressions, and assessed how bad it could get from here.
Despite my presence, which usually incited their attention, they remained locked in the tense standoff, their focus solely fixated on each other. The air crackled with palpable agitation as accusations flew back and forth like arrows in a heated battle.
“Oliver here seems pretty convinced that I’m monopolizing your time, and that eventually I’ll keep you away from him, as if I’d ever sabotage this relationship,” Noah retorted bitterly, gesturing vehemently towards the man standing merely six feet from him. “Do you honestly believe I’d do such thing? What do you think I’m going to do to her, dude? Hide her passport so that she can’t travel anywhere? Burn yours so that you can’t leave this country?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” Oliver said, his voice dripping with frustration and resentment.
His bitter-edged response only continued to mount the tension, fueled by their sudden mutual distrust and resentment. Where was this all coming from?
“Oh, really? That’s what you think of me?”
Their voices grew louder, and I couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of unease, a primal instinct warning of impending danger.
“Guys, please. Can you just…” They dismissed my attempt at diffusing the escalating conflict. I spotted Luna peering at us from behind the sofa. That’s where she had been; hiding. I couldn’t blame her. I had never seen Oliver and Noah acting like this towards each other, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare me a little, too. “You’re scaring Luna,” I admonished, gathering some courage and adding a hint of anger to my tone. However, it seemed to have little effect on them.
“You’re being ridiculous, Oliver. You’re being jealous over fucking nothing! We’re all in this together. You love her. I love her. We’re all invested in this relationship. We’re fucking her together. I love watching you fuck her. I understand that I spend more time with her because of our residence in the States, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about you every morning and every night.”
As Noah’s words reverberated through the room and filled each corner, realization dawned on me. Of course, I had thought about this before, but I’d been too focused on my own happiness and pleasure that I hadn’t taken the time to address the issue. Now, as the fire grew in front of me, the problem was clear.
“Boys,” I said, taking a tentative step forward to position myself nearly in between their bodies. “Calm down. Please.” My hands were raised at level with their chests. I waited a few seconds, checking if my words had some effect. When I confirmed it and earned their looks, I spoke, “I think the problem is not about who’s spending more time with me,” I told them. “The problem is that you’re both fucking me but you’re not fucking each other.” It was blunt, but given their current state, I don’t think anything else would have made them redirect their focus to the real issue.
My blunt assessment seemed to freeze them in place, the weight of my words settling like a thick fog in the room. This was the crux of the matter, and I was determined to confront it head-on, even if the hardest part had to be sorted between them.
They went still, then. My words seemed to fill the room with prickling tension. This was the issue, and they were not going to change my mind. Ever since we started this relationship, I had expected for it to be more than just me getting fucked.
“You’re wrong,” Oliver protested after a tense pause, his voice tinged with defiance. “The problem is not sex. It’s just Noah being…”
“Again!” Noah shouted. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I love her! And I love what the three of us have! Where is the fucking problem, man? Why are you being such a teenager?”
“A teena—?”
“Guys, stop! Please, stop!” This time, I pressed my hands to their chests, feeling the tension radiating through their bodies. They pressed against me. I feared that if I hadn’t been there, things might have escalated into a physical confrontation. “Oli,” I called out. He ignored me. “Oliver! Look at me. Listen to me.”
It took a while, but eventually Oliver met my gaze. I eased the pressure of my hand on his chest, conveying through my touch that there was no need for defensiveness. Not with me.
“Do you feel like Noah is not spending enough time with you?”
Something crossed his eyes.
“Love, I swear it’s not that…” Oliver began, his voice softer now. I raised my hand, gesturing to silence him.
“I think the root of the problem lies with me,” I continued, turning my head to look at Noah. His chest was rising heavily, his nostrils flaring. If I hadn’t got out of the shower at the time I did, I might have made it downstairs to find him turned into a dragon. This was not the anger that he exuded on stage. This was real. This was raw. And it wasn’t nice. “I’ve been demanding too much from you without allowing you both the space to explore your own emotions and feelings toward each other.”
Noah chuckled, and I glared at him.
“I think we made it clear plenty of times that we’re okay with this, being the three of us together,” Noah added.
“Yeah, but… There’s a line that you haven’t crossed. Every time it’s there, you both recoil, as if scared to cross it.”
“We’re not scared,” Oliver was quick to say, his tone laced with bravado.
Noah had the same expression on his face, which told me that they were going to make this harder than required for me and for themselves.
“Then, why are you shouting at each other? Why are you making such a fuss about something that could be solved in five minutes if you sit down and talk like the adults you are?”
“Because it’s not about that,” Oliver retorted.
I raised an eyebrow.
“You’re jealous,” I said. “Not jealous of Noah spending more time with me. Not jealous of Noah getting to eat me out. You’re jealous because he’s not sucking your cock.”
Oliver started saying my name, his cheeks flushed, but stopped midway, frozen. When I looked at Noah, he had an identical expression etched his face, and when his eyes crossed Oliver’s, they both looked away.
This would have been funny —cute, even— if it weren’t for how angry they were. I knew better than to make fun of their behavior when they were fuming and one step away from becoming rottweilers.
“And you’re just angry because you don’t know how to channel those emotions,” I continued telling Oliver, “and instead of telling that to Noah straight away or getting on your knees, you decide to shout at him and accuse him of monopolizing my time.”
“Because he is! Are you taking his side?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” I replied, turning to Noah. “You—.”
“What have I done?! Is it my fault that we were born in America and live in the same city?” He exclaimed, raising his arms in the air.
I ignored his comment.
“You know exactly where his feelings come from because you feel the same! And instead of being honest with him, and with me, you shout back at him as if he was your enemy.”
“You didn’t hear the things he said to me ten minutes ago,” Noah chided.
I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to know if Oliver had been serious.
“Did you mean them?” I asked Oliver. “Did you really mean them?”
“No,” he admitted, resignation evident as he dropped his shoulders.
I sighed, hopeful that this meant we were getting somewhere; that I’d be able to bring back the peace. I had to admit, though, that the ambience had been tense since before Noah and I arrived. The last videocall between Noah and Oliver hadn’t been very nice, and the strain between them had lingered since then. I could have noticed, but instead I ignored it, selfishly focusing on the thought that I would get to have them both together again in a matter of days, as soon as our flight landed in London.
“Can we sit down so that we can discuss this calmly?” I urged, exasperation creeping into my voice.
“No,” they both replied in unison, their synchronized loud response startling me.
My eyes widened. I sighed, hard, feeling a mix of irritation and desperation.
“Fine, do it your way, but I will sit down.” I relented. I tightened the towel around my body and settled on the sofa. Their brief, shared glance at my bare legs didn’t escape my notice, but it was quickly overshadowed by the tension in the room.
“Is anyone else happy in this relationship besides me?” I asked with my arms folded defensively against the chill creeping into my body.
“Yes. I am,” Noah replied. “I’m happy, too, but this moron here fails to see it. He fails to see everything I did for this to work. I could’ve had you all to myself if—.”
“There it is!” Oliver exploded, cutting off Noah’s words with the sharp edge of his tongue.
“Noah!” I admonished him, my tone and look conveying my disapproval at his choice of words. He shouldn’t have said that, regardless of whether it held any truth. He should not have said that.
“Oh, come on,” he retorted. “Don’t twist it now. I wouldn’t be here in this house if I wasn’t okay with what we have. I told you I’m okay with you fucking her,” he said to Oliver. “She loves you fucking her. And getting her to do what she loves matters to me more than anything else.”
“It shouldn’t be like that,” I murmured softly.
Noah simply gazed at me. I could tell he was tired. He didn’t want to argue, but the complexities of his and Oliver’s dynamic had ensnared them in a tangled mess.
“It’s clear that you two love fucking me, and I definitely love it, too, so no need to go through this again. Boys,” I changed my position, kneeling on the sofa cushions to meet their eyes with a pleading look, “do you doubt what I feel for you? I have no room for a single doubt regarding your feelings for me, but I’m willing to talk if any of you feel that I don’t love you enough, or that I favor one over the other.”
“Kitten…” Noah began, but it was Oliver’s fingers the ones that reached my chin.
“You’re everything we could’ve ever asked for. You haven’t done anything wrong, doll.”
“What about each other? Do you doubt each other?” I pressed, feeling a pang of cold as Oliver’s touch left my skin. “You have to talk to each other,” I insisted. “We’re not moving forward until you do.”
For a moment, I thought I did it. I thought that I managed to break through the barriers between them, that they would finally sit down and have an open, honest conversation.
But I was wrong.
They exchanged glances, communicating silently as they waited for the other to make a move.
I felt a growl building in my throat, frustration bubbling up inside me.
“Why are you being so macho? What’s the need for this?” I demanded. “I have no problem with you being all dominant and rough with me. But you can also be every other side of yourselves, and it won’t change the way I see you.”
I could see my words chipping away at their defenses, but it still wasn’t enough. My frustration grew with each passing moment, a sense of helplessness settling over me as they remained locked in that stupid standoff.
As my words hung in the air, challenging their stubborn resolve, I expected some sign of surrender, a flicker of realization in their eyes. But instead, their stances remained rigid, their expressions hardened by the weight of their unspoken turmoil. Oliver’s jaw tightened even further, his brows furrowing in defiance, while Noah’s eyes darted away, a silent admission of discomfort.
It was as though my words had ricocheted off their armored walls, leaving me standing alone in the battlefield. Despite my efforts to bridge the chasm between them, their refusal to let down their guard only fueled my frustration further, a searing flame of helplessness burning within me.
With a heavy sigh, I realized that I had reached the limits of my influence.
“This is it? You prefer to keep ignoring the elephant in the room? Both of you? For God’s sake… All right,” I stood up, crossing between their bodies and heading towards the stairs. Luna suddenly trailing behind me in a hurried way. Turning away, my footsteps heavy with disappointment, I left them to solve the problem on their own. “You can sleep in the sofa tonight. Or, I’ll take the sofa and you can take… the bed or the floor. I don’t care, but I’m not going to be a part of this anymore until the three of us are finally on the same boat. You’re being dicks to each other, and the three of us are going to pay for the consequences, eventually.”
Standing there was like watching a slow-motion collision, where each avoided the inevitable crash, preferring the tension to confrontation. My outburst was a last-ditch effort, a desperate plea to break through the thick walls of pride and insecurity that kept them at odds. But as I stormed out, leaving them to their stubborn silence, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this impasse would persist until they found the courage to confront the truth they both feared.
I woke up to the chill of two empty sides on the bed, and a pang of loneliness pierced my chest. When I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, I could see the sadness etched into every line of my face.
I washed away the traces of sleep and decided to make the bed, a subconscious effort to delay facing the reality awaiting me downstairs.
They hadn’t come upstairs to sleep. Oliver entered the bedroom around 8pm to grab some clothes and retrieve his and Noah’s toothbrush from the bathroom, and I couldn’t help but be speechless at how dramatic they were being.
Thirty minutes later, having attempted and failed to find some peace and strength in a short meditation on the balcony, I went downstairs with hushed footsteps.
I started preparing breakfast, not aiming to disturb their sleep, but the soft hum of the coffee machine and the clinking of plates and cups echoing in the open kitchen stirred Noah from his slumber. On the other side of the sofa, Oliver lay sprawled on his back, his hair tousled. As the deep sleeper he was, he only stirred slightly before settling back into his restful state.
I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. It seemed that at least one of us managed to get some decent rest, even if it was on the couch.
As Noah propped himself up on his forearms, his gaze drifted over to Oliver’s form, then down to the middle of the sofa where their legs lay entangled, hidden beneath the shared blanket. The sight of their bodies occupying the entire sofa would have brought a smile to my lips were it not for the reason why they had spent the night there. I could only imagine them moving around and kicking each other during the night, adding another silly unnecessary thing to the pile of stuff they had been arguing about the evening before.
With a heavy sigh, Noah finally sat up and ran a hand through his face and hair.
“Morning,” he grumbled.
“Morning,” I replied.
Noah took a quick bathroom break. When he came back, he walked with deliberate steps to where I was standing in the kitchen. He leaned in for a morning kiss that I was more than quick to give. He lingered by the kitchen isle to watch me make breakfast, accepting the coffee mug I offered and taking a sip while keeping his eyes on me.
“I expected you guys to come to bed at some point,” I said in a low voice, trying to conceal the twinge of hurt I felt at the fact that they had opted for sleeping on the couch instead of addressing their issues and joining me in bed.
“I wanted to,” Noah said, his voice tinged with regret, “but you made it clear that we needed to sort things out first, that you didn’t want us in bed with you if we didn’t, so…”
I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. I placed my hands on the edge of the counter, exasperation crawling back to my bones.
“You know it wasn’t meant like that,” I sighed. “I was just trying to nudge you both into dealing with the real problem.”
His silent response and the heaviness of his brown gaze on me confirmed my dreaded suspicion—he still wasn’t ready to. He still didn’t want to talk about it. Great.
“Did you miss us?” He suddenly asked, breaking the silence.
Typical Noah. Whenever he knew he’d messed up, he’d try to sidestep the issue with softness instead of facing it head-on. I couldn’t help but be surprised that even after the heated argument we’d had the day before, he was still reluctant to confront the elephant in the room.
But when he looked at me with those puppy-dog eyes, I suddenly became weak.
“Every minute,” I admitted, a bittersweet smile forming on my lips. “I couldn’t sleep. I’m used to being sandwiched between you two now. I kept checking my phone, hoping for a text, and waiting for both of you to show up at the bedroom door,” I shook my head. “God, I’m turning into such a sap.”
My words elicited a laugh from him, one of my favorite sounds in the morning.
“You’ve always been a sap,” he teased, leaving the coffee mug aside and pulling me close until his hands found my waist. With no effort at all, he lifted me onto the counter.
Grinning, I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through the silky hair at his nape. He stepped between my legs, and I relished in the familiar warmth of his body against mine in the chilled morning.
“Did you talk?” I inquired softly, obviously referring to him and Oliver.
“Not much, to be honest,” he admitted. His forehead found mine as he leaned in. “I don’t know what to do.”
Allowing a moment for him to relax in my arms, I gently brushed a loose strand of hair from his forehead after pulling back to meet his eyes.
“I know you two are aware that this is not a relationship based solely on you two dating me,” I began, my voice tender. “We’re all in this together. We’re all dating each other. But you and Oli are struggling to come to terms with it,” I made a pause, my eyes boring into his, “or with what it means.”
A flash of insecurity crossed Noah’s face, his usual self-confidence momentarily faltering. My heart ached for him.
“I’ve never been with a man before, baby,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, understanding without him needing to explain. Of course I knew.
“I had never been with two men,” I started to say, reaching out to touch his cheek gently, “but here I am, utterly in love and happy with both of them,” I tried to summon a reassuring smile, but Noah’s insecurity lingered, prompting me to continue speaking. “It was scary at first. I spent weeks worrying about what would happen, especially when we flew back home after Europe. But everything is so wonderful now, and I wish to keep it that way, but for that, we need the whole package, Noah. And that includes you and Oliver giving each other what you’re missing out,” I playfully bopped his nose, but he flinched, giving me an annoyed look. All right. “Also, I don’t think Oli’s ever been with another man, either” I added, glancing toward his sleeping form on the sofa. “So, it would be a first time for both of you.”
“Would you… like that? Oli and me?” Noah’s voice wavered with uncertainty.
I reached for a biscuit from a plate beside me, taking a bite and chewing slowly. After licking some crumbs from the corner of my lips, I casually rubbed the heel of my socked foot against the back of Noah’s thigh.
“I’ve been thinking about sitting in the armchair in the bedroom and watch you and Oliver do nasty things to each other,” I said with a mischievous grin.
Noah narrowed his eyes at me.
“You’re a naughty girl, you know that?”
His teasing remark brought back a sense of normalcy, making me feel a bit relieved for the first time that morning after a restless night.
“So I’ve been told,” I replied nonchalantly, taking another bite of the biscuit.
Noah took the remaining biscuit from my hand and returned it to the plate before kissing me slowly, his hand cupping my cheek and his fingers tucking my hair behind my ear as our lips melded together.
“It’d make me really happy to see you together,” I said, placing my hands on his face and pulling back slightly to meet his gaze directly, “but I know it would make you and Oli even happier. You’re hungry for each other. I’ve seen it in the way you look at him and the way he looks at you. The sex is amazing, and we’re all satisfied, but you’re just dying to taste him and you’re too shy to make a move. Same with him, which is unusual,” I continued, drawing out my words as I shrugged my shoulders, “given how carefree he is with everything he says and does, including those impromptu cat walks when he’s wearing that silly maid outfit.”
We shared a laugh, the tension dissipating further before indulging in another lingering kiss. This was Noah’s way of seeking reassurance, and I was more than happy to oblige and give it to him. I would give him as many kisses as he needed.
“This is where all this tension is coming from”, I concluded, my voice softening once again.
Noah’s chest rose with a heavy sigh that said he finally admitted it. He released the breath he had been holding just as Luna appeared at our side, her eyes pleading for her morning walk.
“Can you wait a bit, darling? We’ll take you out in a few minutes,” I said to her.
“I’ll take her out now,” came Oliver’s unexpected voice.
Noah and I startled at the interruption, Noah moving away from me as if caught in something criminal. Despite reaching out to him, my eyes focused on Oliver.
Oliver excused himself to go to the bathroom before I could open my mouth. He was still upset about what happened the night before, and I guess he didn’t like seeing me in Noah’s arms first thing in the morning, especially since that’s what started the arguments the day prior.
I reminded myself to stay calm. I’d have to go through the same talk with him to get him to the same place where Noah was.
“Oliver,” I said, my voice gentle yet firm.
“What?” came his response, edged with tension. He avoided looking at Noah.
�� Seeing them like this broke my heart and infuriated me simultaneously.
“You and Noah need to talk. Right now,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.
The whole situation was dripping with irony. I wanted to shout back at Oliver all the things he had preached about before we started this relationship—all that talk about communication being paramount to make this work. Where was all that now?
“We can talk later,” he replied, attempting to evade the conversation by calling out for Luna, who happily trotted towards her dad, tongue out and tail wagging.
“No,” I asserted, holding my ground. “You two are going to talk right now,” I insisted, positioning myself at a fair distance between both so it wouldn’t seem like I was taking sides. “I swear, if either of you keeps dragging this out without reason, I will get on the first flight back to Los Angeles. So, decide right now. Do you want me to leave?” I directed the question to both of them. “Or do you want more? What’s it going to be?”
Oliver dropped his shoulders in resignation, a small victory amidst the tension. Noah was standing behind me. I could tell that he was ready to get it together and be honest with Oliver and with himself, but he would keep holding back until it was clear that Oliver was in the same boat.
Setting Luna’s leash down in the kitchen isle, Oliver caused Luna to drop her tail and tilt her head in confusion. Wasn’t he going to take her out? I made a mental note to go out with her later for a long walk, but right now, Oliver and Noah needed to have the conversation they’d been avoiding for months.
Oliver let himself fall onto the sofa, pushing the blanket that he and Noah had used during the night to the side without bothering to fold it. His green eyes met mine. Then, his gaze finally shifted to Noah.
“Come here,” Oliver said to Noah, patting the spot next to him.
Noah sat next to him, a huff coming out from him, his arms resting unpreoccupied between his legs. It took him a moment to turn his head toward Oliver, but when he did…
They held each other’s gazes for a while. I don’t know what they felt in that moment, but I was certainly feeling the anticipation, my heartbeat increasing with each passing second.
Oliver raised his arm and then his fingers were touching Noah’s chin and lower lip. There was a question in his eyes, something that only they knew what it meant.
Then, they leaned into each other, and they kissed.
My breath caught in my throat, but as their mouths moved against each other, I found myself flooded by a sense of relief and… excitement. Was this supposed to be wrong? It definitely didn’t feel like it. I was enjoying it very much, feeling pride for my boys and pride at myself for having achieved this.
Though they appeared entirely oblivious to my presence in the room, their movements seemed to align with the path I hoped they would follow.
As I contemplated where to position myself to observe the unfolding scene in that summer morning, Noah sank to his knees between Oliver’s legs, deftly undoing the laces of his sweatpants until he slid them down, taking his underwear along with them to his ankles.
A muttered curse escaped Oliver’s lips, betraying all the tension that had been following us since days prior.
Noah raised his eyes at him before daring to put his hands on his length.
“Is this what you want?” Noah asked him.
If he really wanted an answer, he didn’t wait for it.
His mouth swallowed his length, and within seconds, Oliver was leaning back on the sofa, clutching at the pillows with clenched fists, his lips parted in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
Had I imagined this scenario before today? Yes, I had, but never had I voiced it aloud, nor di I anticipate witnessing it, in all honesty, especially not amidst the chaos of the day’s events.
I was about to climb onto the counter to get a better view of Noah pleasuring Oliver when Oliver’s green eyes caught mine.
“Doll,” his voice was ragged, breathless, “why don’t you come over here and join us?”
Uncertain of his intentions, I approached them cautiously, licking my lips. Oliver gestured toward the corner of the room, his chest rising and falling as Noah continued his ministrations between his legs.
“Jesus Christ,” Oliver muttered before mustering the strength to focus back on me. “Doll, sit down and touch yourself. Don’t stand there watching us. This isn’t some damn show.”
Noah hadn’t even lifted his head from Oliver’s lap, his attention entirely consumed by the task at hand, when he said, “Do it. Now.”
Taking a deep breath, I settled onto the corner of the sofa, positioning myself to their view. Oliver’s gaze roamed over me, his struggle evident as Noah continued, relentless.
“Feet on the sofa. Panties off. Let me see you,” Oliver instructed, his voice restrained, indicating he was not far from the edge.
I complied, feeling a slight shyness creeping in. This was a scenario none of us were accustomed to. Slowly, I parted my legs, and Oliver raised an expectant eyebrow, silently urging me on. Without hesitation, I grasped the hem of my oversized shirt and lifted it, revealing the black thong I wore underneath.
“I said—” His voice was cut off abruptly as Noah took him deeper, to the back of his throat, “off,” Oliver growled, his demand leaving no room for negotiation.
With a quick movement, I lifted my hips and removed my thong, spreading my legs open to their gaze. As my fingers found their way to my clit, tracing soft circles around it, I sensed that we were in for a wild morning.
Barely two minutes into the act, Oliver let out a primal growl, his head thrown back, hands gripping Noah’s hair tightly as he pressed him against his crotch. With a soft ‘pop’, Noah released him, drawing in a deep breath and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.
“Don’t tell me that was your first,” Oliver said, “because there’s no way I’m going to believe you.”
Noah chuckled, his laughter momentarily dissipating the heat in the room. The sound would have relieved whatever remnants of tension and fear remained inside of me were it not for the fact that I was about to come myself.
“Definitely a first time,” Noah replied with a tilt of his head. Then, as if sensing my arousal, he turned his head towards me, and his smile fell.
He stood up, his hungry faze traveling from my face down to my exposed pussy. He had been so focused on Oliver that he hadn’t noticed the spectacle unfolding on the other side of the sofa.
Without uttering a word, Noah walked towards me. He didn’t need to bend down or extend an arm; he simply removed my hand and then, he just… touched me.
“You’re a mess,” he acknowledged, his fingers dragging slowly through my folds.
He brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted me, causing the burning sensation inside of me to only intensify, threatening to consume me if I didn’t get their hands on me in the next few seconds.
“Oli,” Noah called out, glancing over his shoulder. “You good? She needs to be rewarded, don’t you think?”
“Sure she does,” he agreed, pulling up his sweatpants and running a hand through his hair. “Sit back,” he told Noah. “I’m going to enjoy this. Doll, do you want to ride Noah?”
“I don’t think you have to ask,” Noah added, a grin spreading across his face as he extended his arm towards me.
Grasping his hand, I moved myself onto his lap. Noah’s hands found my hips beneath the hem of my t-shirt, while Oliver took hold of my right hand, bringing it to his lips.
“You need to be rewarded for doing so good to us.”
“Right?!” I exclaimed, raising my eyebrows at him with a smile. It wasn’t lost on me that he had been denying his desire for Noah to pleasure him for months. These men and their stubbornness…
“And you’re such a good, good girl to us.”
“She is,” Noah agreed, his voice a whisper as his hands guided me onto one of his thighs, pressing me down against him, my dampness spreading onto the fabric of his sweatpants.
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Come on, baby. Use me,” he urged, his hands steadying me with a firm grip on my hips.
“But…” I began, my face flushing crimson.
“I’ll fuck you in a moment, but I want you to use me first,” he insisted, his voice filled with desire.
Feeling self-conscious under the intense scrutiny of both men’s gazes, I opted to press my mouth to Noah’s as I began to grind against his thigh. He tasted like Oliver and the experience made me dizzy. Noah swallowed my moans eagerly, while Oliver urged me to go faster, his hand caressing my ass enticingly as I moved myself on top of Noah.
Lost in a haze of pleasure, at some point Oliver grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me towards him so that he could kiss me passionately, allowing Noah a breather.
Eventually, I became a whimpering mess, my hands sliding down to find Noah’s bulge. I stroked it a few times with my open palm before deciding I couldn’t wait any longer. With deft fingers, I unlaced him and freed his cock.
Noah’s hand in my waist steadied me.
“You sure about this?” The question was directed to Oliver. There was concern in his voice.
Oliver dismissed it with a shake of his head. “That pussy is not going anywhere. It’s ours. So go on. Take her.”
Noah nodded. I whined in his arms, hoping that he would just let me get him inside of him.
“Condom?” He asked, still directing his questions to Oli.
Oliver disappeared briefly, returning with a condom package that he handed to Noah. However, I took it from his fingers.
“I’ll do it,” I offered, taking the package and swiftly sliding the condom onto Noah’s cock.
Lifting my hips slightly, I positioned myself above him and sank down, moaning softly, a melody that echoed in Noah’s ears and Oliver’s too.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” Oliver murmured in awe, watching each of my expressions like a hawk.
Resting my head on Noah’s shoulder, I began to move my hips in a rhythmic motion, gliding up and down, front to back, performing a dance on top of him that ignited a bigger fire inside of me. The intensity heightened when Oliver sneaked a hand between our bodies, his fingers finding my clit with precision.
“Come for us, babygirl,” Oliver said, his voice a seductive whisper.
Unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure, I surrendered to the sensations, especially as I felt Noah pulsating inside of me. His grip tightened on my hip, his other hand tangling in my hair as he pressed his face against my neck, emitting a primal roar against my skin as he released himself into the condom.
I dug my nails on his shoulders through his t-shirt as my own orgasm crashed over me, the waves of pleasure overwhelming me as Noah’s pulses still filled me up and Oliver’s fingers continued their relentless assault on my clit.
It took me a moment to find my voice amidst the euphoria. I asked Noah if he was okay, and he responded with a sloppy kiss on my jaw, a bright smile spreading across his face afterward.
I glanced at Oliver, who was watching us with admiration despite our dishevelled state. Not that he looked much better himself.
After nuzzling against Noah’s chest for a moment, I shifted myself towards Oliver. Wrapping my arms around his neck, half of my body still remained in Noah’s lap. Noah lifted my shirt to uncover my ass, giving it a playful slap before caressing it and dropping his head back with a contented sigh.
“Good talk,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice and eliciting laughter from all of us.
“Yeah,” Oliver agreed with a chuckle. “We should have more breakfasts like this.”
Our moment of levity was abruptly interrupted by Luna’s barking.
She stood in the doorway, looking frustrated that we had completely forgotten about her.
“Oh, shit,” I said.
Yeah, our bad habits were just about to get worse.
Taglist:
@girlfromrussia-universe | @oro-e-diamanti | @lma1986 | @missduffsblog | @bngurngheart | @winterwinchester | @jilliemiw86 | @sorrowsofsilence | @th4t-em0-k1d | @to-be-written | @thescarlettvvitch | @nonamessblog | @somebodyels3 | @starsomens | @ditto66 | @dominuslunae | @cookiesupplier | @midnight-eternals | @pennysky | @iknownothingpeople | @cncohshit | @ladyveronikawrites | @blackveilomens | @robabankfuckmickeymouse | @kageyasma | @concretedaddy2018 | @silentglassbreak | @thescarlettvvitch | @sammyjoeee | If you want to be tagged in the next bonus scene + epilogue, just let me know :)
#noah sebastian#oliver sykes#bad omens#bmth#bring me the horizon#bad omens fanfic#bmth fanfic#noah sebastian fanfic#oliver sykes fanfic#noah sebastian x oliver sykes#noah sebastian x reader#oliver sykes x reader#oliver sykes x you#noah sebastian x you#noah sebastian fic#oliver sykes fic
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﹕─┈ 𝜗 RORO'S 1K CELLY 𝜚
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( THANK YOU THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR 1K FOLLOWERS !!!! I’m genuinely still in shock, when I first created this account I honestly wasn’t sure or expecting that I’d get as much love as I have received from you all. I’m very grateful for all the love and support and encouragement you guys have given me on my journey . . . I will always be thankful. Your comments, reblogs and asks keep me motivated to continue writing <333 i will try to write every ask that you guys send in as fast as I can . . . I’m a slow writer but you guys know this already. Again, thank you for 1k, I can’t wait to continue my journey with all of you !!! And I can’t wait to interact with you guys more too <333 )
﹕─┈ this is my first time doing something like this so please be patient with me !! I will be accepting requests for the rest of March.
﹕─┈ tagging some of my mutuals because I honestly wouldn’t be here without them and I’m so grateful for all of them, ily guys @lovings4turn @chrisevansonly @norafaye @childsuppor <333
﹕─┈ 𝜗 suggest a prompt 𝜚 you can suggest a prompt from the list’s here or here and here, you can see here for who I write for and here for what I write and don’t write. Or you can just send in some of your own thoughts and headcanons.
﹕─┈ use this emoji 🌱 to clarify that the prompt is from the first list. This emoji 🪷 for the second list and this one 🌷 for the third.
﹕─┈ reminder there going to be blurbs and drabbles. They can be fluff, angst and smut. Romantic pairing or platonic/familiar pairing is fine, just please make sure to clarify what you want !!! Please clarify who you want doing the action, the reader or the person your requesting !!!
﹕─┈ you can ask for a prompt for my AU or suggest a prompt that’s part of the same universe as some my already done works . . . aka like a very small part 2 if that makes sense !!!
﹕─┈ please use a 🎀 to clarify that it’s for my 1k celly or just clarify in words, what ever is easier for you !!!
﹕─┈ 𝜗 🦩𝜚 send in three F1 drivers or hockey players or twd characters and I’ll do kiss/marry/ kill !!!
﹕─┈ 𝜗 RORO’S 1K CELLY WORK’S 𝜚
[ req’s are closed ]
ᡣ𐭩 PERFECT? Logan sargeant
ᡣ𐭩 ARGUMENTS ON THE DOCK AND NOSEY BROTHERS Quinn Hughes
ᡣ𐭩 ENCHANTED BY THE BEAUTY OF YOU Luke Hughes
ᡣ𐭩 ITS CALLED CHARM BABY ! Lewis Hamilton
ᡣ𐭩 MESSY HAIR AND INK STAINS will smith
ᡣ𐭩 HEALING KISSES FROM AN ANGEL Nico hischier
ᡣ𐭩 ICE CREAM AND MUCH-NEEDED HUGS Luke Hughes
ᡣ𐭩 SLEEP DARLING Lando Norris
ᡣ𐭩 MORNINGS WITH OUR LITTLE PAWFIELD Cole Caufield
ᡣ𐭩 HAIR DRYERS AND PROMISED MIMOSAS Lando Norris
ᡣ𐭩 IRRESISTIBLE will smith
ᡣ𐭩 YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS Lando Norris
ᡣ𐭩 CHOCOLATE ‘N BEER will smith
﹕─┈ 𝜗 disclaimers 𝜚 I have every right to ignore or not do a request if I’m not comfortable with writing it. Again please just be kind and patient with me <333
main masterlist
#﹕─┈ 𝜗 RORO'S 1K CELLY 𝜚#୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ. 𝓵atest release of 𝓻oro’s 𝔀orks#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#max verstappen x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#fernando alonso x reader#lance stroll x reader#logan sargent x reader#mick schumacher x reader#quinn hughes x reader#jack hughes x reader#luke hughes x reader#trevor zegras x reader#cole caufield x reader#jamie drysdale x reader#juraj slafkovsky x reader#rutger mcgroarty x reader#ethan edwards x reader#mark estapa x reader#luca fantilli x reader#adam fantilli x reader#nico hischer x reader#daryl dixon x reader#rick grimes x reader#luke castellan x reader#formula one x reader#nhl x reader#the walking dead x reader
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Wow, gosh well today is my birthday.
Today is my 14th birthday
I just want to say a few things because honestly it’s hard for me to even imagine, 14, it’s a big number to me.
Unfortunately nobody I know irl was available to celebrate this year and I’ve learned that it’s alright, people get busy. I’m thankful for everyone I’ve known, whether it be we aren’t friends anymore or had problems or even if we’re still together! Everyone I’ve met till this day has at least some importance to my life and I’m glad to have met everyone I know now.
Honestly I feel like I’m being extra so go ahead and cringe, I am too at myself lol.
Now this applies to everyone I’ve known, especially those I’m close with
Thank you for making me happy and brightening my mood in ways that I could never imagine, caring enough to ask how I am when I’d get upset and keeping me going throughout the day. I enjoy making jokes with you all and I love hearing you laugh, even if my jokes weren’t that funny it made me happy I put a smile on someone’s face. You guys have changed my point of view on so many things and helped a lot on my art journey.
There have been days where I’d feel so horrible I couldn’t even get out of my bed but to check my phone and see your messages would leave a smile on my face and every day I look forward to hanging out, and even if you may not be available I’ll be thinking about you and wondering how your day has been. It makes me happy knowing you’re okay and when you’re not, I’d be willing to help, even if you don’t want help then I’ll wait.
Seeing you send me art or share accomplishments will always make me happy and proud for you. I love exchanging drawings and ideas and making new AUs and ocs or playing games together and even just talking in general and having fun.
I have so much more to say but I wouldn’t know how to say or express it, I’m just glad we’ve met <3
Thank you for making me the person I am today
Here I’ll just tag as many of my current friends accounts as I can list down, it’s a lot of people (in my opinion at least <3)
@garbagechocolate @alexluminosbucket @lilsteppybigoof @harry-clarence @oddogoblino @sleepyzz0h @sleepyheadd0 @gomorahkallenbach @razberrymilkshake @artistkeval @lunar-o-ocean @theblog-with-thestuff @sol-s-hine @crescentdream3r @creampuff-central @nomsthecat @nosleepygay @requiem186 @indiedragondev
And if you’re a mutual of mine that sees this but hasn’t been tagged, don’t worry you too <3
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2024 Roundup
Thank you all for being here!
It’s that time of year again—the recaps are flooding in. Ruuuuuun! 🤣
First of all: Thank you everyone who connected this year—you are all so appreciated, no matter if we are mutuals or not 🖤
I’ll give you a little selection of the posts that people loved most in 2024, plus a few related thoughts about what happened during the fandom year (I always do, so if that’s not your thing, you know what to do 😉)
And what a year it’s been for the Sandman fandom—lots of complicated feelings. For me, they start straight off the bat with this (I’ll get to why later)…
So let’s have a little look at:
Art
Here are the art posts you enjoyed most in 2024:
1. Dream by Vince Locke
2. Dream by Frank Quitely
3. Dream and Death by Mindy Lee
March Mania
My partner in crime @tickldpnk8 and I ran our first fandom event: March Mania. In a Tumblr fandom mostly interested in the show and shipping, it was so much fun to reconnect with the source material and feature the amazing original artists, and I still want to send the biggest “Thank You” to everyone who took part—you know who you are! 🖤
If that’s still not enough art for you:
You can find all my art curation posts via the #sandman art (all art, including my own somewhere) and #sandman x art (official artists only) tags on my blog.
[Speaking of art: I post art for all Sandman characters. However, if you look at the top posts squares on my blog, you’d think it’s only Dream. It’s both funny and a bit sad. You can use my character library to get started, but please, please support all the amazing artists and writers on here who create for more characters than just “the two” by checking character tags on main. You’ll only find the underappreciated characters if you go into the weeds yourself].
Fics & Poetry
I’m a professional writer. However, I’d never written fanfic before 2022. But I had a Sandman idea that wouldn’t leave me alone, and I clobbered it all together during NaNo ‘22 and published on a weekly schedule in 2023. It was a slow start (people on Tumblr are apparently a bit weird about OCs), but it’s really picked up since. I’m grateful for the little community I built around The Light of Stars, and writing its sequel “The Pillars of Creation” also kept me busy in 2024. It still has me in a tight grip right now (if all goes well, I’ll finally start publishing in January/February, yay!). But my writing in 2024 mostly belonged to canon characters, and these fics/poems were what you liked most:
1. Lupē (short vignette, Calliope x Morpheus)
2. Requiem (poem, Death & Dream)
3. Ode to Death (poem, Death)
Honorary mention: Dream’s Therapist [a fun little project I started just because I honestly think he needs one. Many of you seemed to agree, because you liked it more than all the other fics and poems of ‘24. This is the episode you liked most, but I personally don’t think it’s the best one—it’s just the first 🙈]
And again, if you’d like to read more, you can find all my fics and poetry here.
[Another annoying side note 🤣: The work of fic-writers gets shared so much less than that of artists and meta-writers. Even less if you don’t write reader fics, smut or for one of the big ships. I had this conversation with many other writers, and it’s the same for most of us, to the degree that people will ask us for the next chapter and tell us how much they like our fics, but never, ever share them. So maybe that’s something we can all improve on in 2025: If we like something, we’ll share it?]
Meta-Analysis
The Sandman is one of the few stories that hasn’t left me alone since my teenage years, despite having books and bookshelves clogging up literally every available space of my house. I find something new in this work all the time, and I just love taking the fine tooth comb to it.
And the next one is tricky for me, because in 2024, three of my metas took off a bit for certain reasons:
1. The Endless are not their Opposite—they only define it
2. The Truth of Mankind is also Dream’s
3. Only Hope calls you out like that
And at the time, the creator reading and acknowledging my thoughts meant something, simply because the story always meant so much to me—I’m not particularly susceptible to parasocial relationships or putting people on pedestals. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t feel a sense of anger and disgust on…
July 3rd
The Tumblr Sandman fandom has been limping for some time now because it’s mostly a show fandom. After such a long time with hardly any news, many people simply move on and get their shipping needs met somewhere else. As someone who is mostly interested in the source material/comics and literary/meta-analysis, it never worked like that for me because neither characters nor stories are replaceable for me. But NG turning out to be a piece of shit was definitely the death knell for an already dying fandom—I could actually show you stats to make a point, but I won’t because I want to keep the demarcation lines clean here: None of this should ever be mostly about fans being disappointed or “losing their comfort show”, or whatever. We didn’t lose anything. Those women did. And I personally think every new fan should know about what he did so it doesn’t happen again. Plus, the structures that enable the abuse of power and, more importantly, keep people like this in power, will never be brought down if we pretend they don’t exist. But whether someone can separate the art from the artist is entirely up to them, and no one owes anyone an explanation. Emotional processing is hard, not every personal thought needs to be aired publicly, and our actions matter far more than our words. That’s all I’m going to say about it—my first post on the matter still stands.
Community: The Sandman Book Club
The news awkwardly coincided with having just founded the meanwhile biggest Sandman community on here. And despite everything: I love what my co-admin @tickldpnk8 and I have put together to reconnect people with the source material. We’re always happy if new people join and participate (it’s a community, not a blog 😉).
Fandom Thoughts
There was a lot of stuff in between (we got a S2 sneak peak!)—the same old fandom discourse is one of them. But if I have one goal for 2025, it’s that I want to maintain creating the space I’d like to see.
So in that vein, I’ll be honest and tell you what I lament most: It’s the transition of fandom into a consumer space. As someone who is more of a creator and sharer, I want to keep doing my bit because I love doing it. But I’d lie if I didn’t admit that my well felt fairly empty at times, and that my energy is a bit drained at this point. Investing energy into a limping fandom while others openly stated they would “only come back when S2 starts because there’ll be more engagement” felt strange, and I freely admit it annoyed me at times. It’s just a way of thinking I don’t get—are we primarily fans, or are we primarily chasing clout?
And speaking of engagement:
I often see beautiful art and wonderful poetry that has under 10, or even 0, notes. And it breaks my heart a little that so many people don’t share/reblog anymore. Because every time I reblog someone’s underappreciated art, I see the notes of those posts go up because my blog is connected enough to kick off a chain of engagement, even if it’s not always earth-shattering. You can do that, too. But it won’t happen if you only like. Reblogging is not for social clout—I personally believe that’s a fundamental misunderstanding when it comes to fandom. I see it more as saying Thank You for a gift someone gave us, and to make sure that more people also receive that gift.
Because artists/writers give their gift to fandom. Making others happy and connecting over it is the whole point!
And I’d love to see fandom turning into more of a gifting culture again. These pockets exist, so I’m not saying it’s not a thing anymore. But I also see a growing culture in which people only consume and at best engage in a TikTok/Insta-type manner by giving a like that holds no real thought. I get not everyone is a creator. But if you’re not, your gift could be to share and engage more thoughtfully. It doesn’t have to be with everything—it already makes a difference if it’s only the stuff you’d like to see more of. That’s my fandom wish for 2025…
I’ll see you all on the other side—much love to you, and may only the best come your way 🖤
#the sandman#sandman#happy new year#2024 recap#the sandman netflix#the sandman comics#sandman art#sandman fic#sandman meta#sandman fandom#fandom thoughts#queue crew
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Hi, hello I’m really sorry for all the hate you’re getting for autistic! Yelena, she’s so near and dear to my heart especially cus she reminds me so much of me.
Thank you so much for responding to my last two asks on autistic! Yelena with a literal wall of text, it makes me happy every time.
I would love it if you wrote more, specifically to spite the haters but also because I’m a self indulgent little shit.
Don’t let the hate get to you <3
Ps: since you asked for a silly little way to recognize me, we’re actually mutuals on this site but I’m terrified of social interaction and being judged so if it’s cool I’d just go by: R :)
I love your writing
-R :)
Hi anon!! Welcome back <3 thank you so much for the love, this girl means so much to me and I’m glad she’s important to others, too. Life has been stressing me tf OUT recently and popping into my inbox to find new asks about Autistic!Yelena and Genderqueer!Kate really helps me feel better for a small time.
Responding with a wall of text is one of my favorite things! And yknow what, here’s some more :)
-I’ve been thinking about just a soft day with Autistic!Yelena recently
-there’s no plans, there’s no stress, no pressure, no expectations
-she sleeps in until like 10, which is insane for her. Kate wakes up before her even, even more unheard of- she’s quiet and soft when she gets out of bed, just kissing Yelena’s nose and then going to the kitchen to make breakfast
-their missions have been more and more demanding recently, and Yelena’s been masking harder than usual in order to cope with it. Buuuut, one problem… the harder the mask, the harder the crash
-so yeah. She crashes.
-she’s kinda just all fuzzy brained the whole day, and for the first couple hours of being awake, speaking is an absolute no. Kate has been helping her learn ASL, and she prefers to communicate that way when she goes nonverbal, so their conversation over breakfast is the occasional sleepy hand motion
-miss girl needs to sleep a lot, but she’s horrible at naps. When her brain is taking a day to recalibrate, that’s when Kate does her best to get her to rest during the regular day time hours. Usually it takes a hot shower (she hates hot baths and actually prefers ice ones) and some cuddles under a weighted blanket and maybe some doggy pillows and a snack to get her sleepy and calm enough
-I wouldn’t say that Yelena experiences any age regression per se, but she definitely prefers simpler foods that remind her of being a kid again when she’s feeling fuzzy. Macaroni and cheese is already a given, but we’re busting out the dinosaur chicken nuggets and chocolate milk too (also Kate just already has these things stocked up for herself because she’s just like me)
-clothing is important and needs to be paid attention to. In a good headspace, Yelena can usually throw on whatever, because she’s already curated her wardrobe to always be comfortable. No tags, to bumpy seams, certain textures completely removed, etc. That being said, sometimes her skin feels like it’s literally on fire, and honestly it would feel better to go completely naked if she couldn’t feel the ac and the sun on her skin. Kate helps her pick out something really simple and loose, and Yelena steals a pair of her boxers, because she absolutely adores how soft they are, even if they’re a little tight on her hips and stomach
-normally she prefers to have her nails painted, but when she’s feeling particularly fuzzy and sensitive, nail polish more often ends up scratched off. Kate finds some cheap nail polish that comes off easily in a color that Yelena only mostly likes so that she won’t feel bad about removing it 30 minutes after it finishes drying. Sometimes she spends a few hours just applying and reapplying it after it flakes away because it gives her brain something to focus on, and is minorly destructive in a fun way that doesn’t hurt anything (Kate always makes sure they have a spa day later that week if they can so that Yelena has a chance to fix her nails back up how she likes them)
-this girl is secretly the BIGGEST fucking cuddler istg. Oh ho ho, you thought Kate was clingy? Wait till Yelena is grumpy and tired and then bam, tiny blonde Russian koala baby
-she’s my everything :,))
#autistic!yelena#autistic yelena belova#autistic yelena belova headcannons#headcannons#ask#anonymous#R anon#London answers asks#London can make friends#soft day with Yelena#autism#autism spectrum#neurodivergence#bishova#Kate Bishop#katelena
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ignite the stars │ch. 15
first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)
Satine Kryze is an internationally-recognized scholar in genocide studies who recently resigned from the Department of State over her concerns regarding the agency's ethics. Ben Kenobi is a tenured professor at Georgetown University studying the use of religion to justify military conflicts. Once high school sweethearts, the two haven't spoken since parting ways for university. That is, until Satine accepts a research fellowship - at Georgetown.
---
Come Monday morning, Satine is greeted with a knock on her office door. It’s Anakin, holding a garment bag. “Delivery from Padma’s closet,” he announces.
Satine stands, honestly a bit surprised. “She remembered,” she says. “I just…I know she’s working on several bills at the moment. And she’s pregnant! She’s got a lot on her mind.”
“Clothes are one of Padma’s love languages,” says Anakin, handing Satine the bag. “Gifting them, loaning them out, repairing them, upcycling them. If I had it my way, I’d wear the same jeans every day to work, but she’d be scandalized.” He watches as Satine hangs the bag on the coat stand by the door. “She sent a few options,” he adds.
Curious, Satine unzips the bag, realizing that a few is a massive understatement: she’s sent an even dozen. Some are for warmer weather, and Satine suspects she won’t end up wearing any of those - though spring in the District can be beautiful, it likely won’t be mild enough for the thin fabric. One she suspects will be too heavy unless there’s a surprise blizzard, which of course is a possibility. The others will probably be more likely choices, ranging from a bolero-style shrug to a soft, golden infinity-type scarf.
Satine notices the tags. All are designer.
She tries to ignore the way her hand suddenly shakes. The cost of the garments together is probably more than Satine makes during an entire pay period.
“Thank you,” she says, zipping up the bag again. “I really appreciate it. Truly.”
Anakin grins. “This is how Padma likes to make friends. She also said you’re welcome to borrow a handbag or clutch if you don’t have anything that will match.”
Satine looks up at him. “She wants to be friends? With me?”
Anakin crosses his arms against his chest. “Believe it or not, it’s kind of isolating being a Congressional representative, from what I’m told. Obviously she has Breha and Bail, but she’s struggling to find people who aren’t fawning over her or wanting to use her to get a voice at the House.”
“Well,” says Satine, “I can’t promise not to fawn over her - I mean her work speaks for itself.”
Anakin bumps her shoulder lightly with a closed fist. “Hey, she’s familiar with yours as well - she knew your name before you started dating Ben! I think the admiration is mutual. I’ll get Ben to text you her number. And speak of the devil…” he trails off, hearing a key in the lock to the office next door. Anakin spins and calls out to greet his old advisor, diving into an intricate question about military history as he leaves Satine’s office.
Satine takes a last look at the garment bag before smiling to herself and heading back to her desk.
---
That afternoon, Satine and Ben are in the library again. She’s stuck in the middle of the chapter she’s supposed to be proofreading, and she wants a distraction.
She rummages through her bag to find her notebook, and scribbles a note to Ben.
Why did Anakin call you “Obi” this morning? she writes. Or did I misunderstand him?
And she slides the notebook to Ben. He’s on his laptop, composing an email, but he immediately diverts his attention to the notebook.
He snickers, then gestures for her pen.
Two letters, not three, he writes. O.B. Stands for “Old Ben.” It’s something he began calling me last semester when my beard started turning gray. Coincidentally, it was the first semester I had Ahsoka as a student. He refuses to call her my grad student; instead, he says she’s my grand student.
Satine bites her lip to keep from laughing aloud. Her hand brushes his as she takes back the pen. “Grand” as in “granddaughter”?
Exactly.
Satine pushes the notebook to the side. She turns slightly and reaches up to touch the pad of her thumb to the gray hair that has started to come in around his temple. He watches her with interest as her thumb moves to trace the wrinkles at the corner of his eye.
“I quite like the gray,” she admits, her voice just a whisper. “It suits you. Makes you look distinguished.”
“It’s entirely Anakin’s fault,” Ben responds. “There was no gray at all before I took him on as a student. He’s aging me prematurely.”
But he leans into her hand gently, and she knows he’s joking.
“O.B. Kenobi,” Satine says, smirking. “It’s kind of cute, actually.”
“Oh, don’t you dare take his side. I’m fairly certain Ahsoka calls me that, too - when she’s talking with Anakin. She has the good grace not to say it to my face.”
“We should all be so lucky to grow old. I hope I do.”
He lifts a brow. “Easy for you to say.” He gestures to her hair. “Are you saying you won’t dye it?”
She shakes her head. “My hair has always been thin. Wouldn’t want to risk damaging what I do have.” She laughs, reaching back to remove her hair band. Her ash blonde hair tumbles around her shoulders. Satine reaches for some strands, teasing them apart, and she leans closer to Ben. “There are bits and pieces of gray already, actually,” she says. “But having naturally cool undertones disguises it a bit more than if my hair were auburn.”
Ben studies her hair, almost as if in wonder. “How did I not notice before?”
She grins at him. But then she notices someone who is within earshot, and Satine reaches for the notebook again.
Our eyes have been…otherwise engaged much of the time we’ve been together, she writes.
Ben turns his laughter into a cough. He takes the pen from her and writes below her message. Well, it sounds like it’s high time I took a complete inventory of every surface. What else has changed and escaped my notice? Have you gotten a tattoo?
She shakes her head as he hands the pen back to her. There’s nothing I’ve felt strongly enough about to warrant such permanent modification to my body.
And then she quirks a brow at him, silently asking:
What about you?
He grins. You’ve seen me without a shirt, he replies in writing.
You can get tattoos elsewhere, you know. And she passes the notebook back to him.
Ben rolls his eyes, taking the pen. I don’t have a tattoo on my ass. Or anywhere else on my body.
How would I know? I haven’t seen your ass. I was genuinely curious.
He shoots her a glare upon seeing her try to hold in her laughter.
“You’re hilarious,” he says out loud, now that whoever was near has now wandered off.
Ben’s phone lights up as a silent alarm goes off.
“I had to set a reminder,” he explains, “so I wouldn’t be late for lecture again.”
Satine grins.
Ben shrugs into his coat and packs up his laptop. He nods to her own. “Send me the chapter you’re working on. I’ll proofread it this evening.”
She abhors editing, and he knows it. Grateful for the offer, she reaches up to grab his tie, pulling him back down so that she can kiss him tenderly.
He groans softly, pulling back. “Getting sidetracked after the alarm makes the alarm moot,” he says, but he’s smiling as he tucks his tie back into his vest.
Ben turns to look up at her as he descends the stairs. His smile is still wide.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
---
“Calculus,” Satine whispers.
Ben stills over her, and the next second he’s pulled them both up so that they’re sitting upright on her couch. They’re both still half-dressed: his shirt is off, his belt unbuckled, and her skirt has been pushed up to her hips, her blouse unbuttoned, her blue lace brassiere on display.
Things had escalated quickly after their Saturday afternoon date at the National Portrait Gallery and the attached Smithsonian American Art Museum. While wandering along the exhibits at the latter, Ben had grabbed her hand and whispered, “Imagine my surprise to find they let you touch the art here.”
Satine had blushed at his words, cracked a shy smile at his joke. Those few words had given her courage, and she’d pulled him to the couch the moment they’d arrived home.
But now she’s wondering if her courage was real at all.
“I’m sorry,” she manages to get out.
Ben shakes his head. “Nothing to apologize for,” he says, as though reminding her. “Do you know what it was exactly that triggered you?”
Satine shivers and pulls her blouse back over her shoulder, where Ben had pushed it off to have better access to her neck. “I don’t think it was anything you said,” she responds. She has to laugh. “I mean, we actually haven't said anything since the moment the door was shut.”
“Probably the longest we’ve been with each other without exchanging words,” he agrees with a smirk.
Satine takes a deep breath, willing her blood pressure under control. “Maybe the position?”
He nods. “You felt trapped.”
“I’m sorry,” she says again before she can stop herself.
He gives her an exasperated look. “Don’t - ” he begins.
“I’m not trying to be a tease,” she says, suddenly worried. It’s not the first time in recent weeks she’s left him aroused, without release. She can feel the pent-up frustration.
Ben sighs. “I’d rather be brought to the edge of orgasm every day of my life by you than cum by any other woman.” He reaches slowly for her hand. “If you’re sensing annoyance, it’s because as long as my body is next to yours, I literally do not care if I climax or not, and for some reason I’m having a particularly hard time getting that message through to you.”
Her eyes flicker down to his crotch and then back up to his eyes.
“Poor phrasing,” he admits, but she just laughs.
The next moment, an idea occurs to her. “Can I…can I try something?” she asks.
His expression softens. “You can try anything you like.”
Satine stands abruptly, extending her hand out to him. Without hesitation, he grabs hold, and she pulls him to his feet. “Follow me,” she says, her grip on his fingers tightening. She leads him up the stairs to her bedroom, where she directs him to the bed. “Sit.”
He does, and she flicks on one lamp, setting it low. Then she returns to Ben.
Satine lays a hand on his bare chest and then presses firmly. “Lie back,” she orders.
“Yes, Madam,” Ben says, and he scrambles back so that his head rests against her pillows, shifting to swing his legs on the bed, clearly understanding where she’s going with this.
Satine unbuttons the rest of her blouse and lets it drop to the floor. Then she crawls onto the bed, onto him, to straddle his hips.
Ben’s jaw is tense. “The view is much better from down here anyway,” he says faintly, and then he’s pressing up into her sharply because her hands have moved to pull his trousers down a few more inches.
He groans, and then groans again when her fingers touch him through his boxers. “Fuck.”
“That’s the idea,” says Satine, and she strokes him.
“Not that I disagree,” Ben manages to say, panting, as she removes the last layer of fabric between them. “But are you good with that? You ready?”
“I had my IUD replaced at my annual appointment recently.”
And she seats herself over his hips, gathering her skirt out of the way, grateful they’ve already made quick work of her undergarment.
“Good to know,” says Ben weakly, “but that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
His hands move to grip her hips, preventing her from sinking down.
“This position is better,” Satine says, her hands covering his own. “I control the speed, the angle. I control everything.” When he nods, trusting her, she says, “I’m ready. Condom?”
He nods, then smirks. “Back pocket of the trousers you just pulled down.”
Satine grins and reaches below him. He raises his hips slightly so she can reach the pocket, and she makes quick work of the wrapper before fitting the condom on him.
And then, together, their hands guide her hips, lowering her to take him into her warmth.
They move her slowly, inch by inch, both breathing heavily. Finally, finally, he’s inside her fully.
“Dear fucking God,” says Ben, and Satine laughs, practically giddy.
“Help me move,” she orders him. “What do you like?”
“You,” he says immediately. “You, just like that.”
She clenches around him, and she can tell he’s preventing himself from bucking his hips.
“Evil woman,” he whispers. “Don’t do that again or this will be over far too quickly.”
“Noted,” says Satine, and she rubs her thumb over his own.
Ben watches their fingers, and then he grips her hips more tightly. “We’ll start slow, okay?”
She nods, and he begins to help move her, even if she’s more in control of her movements than he is. As they find a rhythm, she watches his eyes lock on her breasts.
“Still liking the view?”
He pumps into her, groaning. “It continues to impress,” he grunts out, eyes still on her cleavage.
Satine reaches one hand behind her to unclip the bra, slipping out of it. She drops it behind her. “And how about now?”
Ben’s cadence slips, and his jaw goes slack. “God, Satine,” he whispers, reaching a hand up to palm one breast, his thumb concentrating on her nipple.
She whines, arching into him, and they try to find whatever remains of their rhythm. They succeed, for a bit, moving faster and then more slowly together, climbing, climbing, climbing, and then -
“So fucking good,” says Ben, his tone clipped. “Satine, I - ”
And suddenly he jerks up, his muscles taut beneath her own, his fingers tight on her hips, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. She knows he’s climaxing without him needing to say the words aloud.
It’s the most gorgeous thing she’s ever seen.
Satine's mind is blank, and then a moment later, he’s collapsed back on the sheets, breathing heavily, eyes soft and sated. The hand he’d had on her breast moves to her jaw, and he cradles her face. He helps her as she slips away from him, moving her from a kneeling position to being seated more comfortably. “What would you like next?” he asks, still out of breath, looking to her for their next step.
Satine shakes her head. “I don’t think I can climax,” she says, matching his tone. “At least, not right now. That was…a lot. Emotionally.”
Ben nods, trusting her awareness of her body’s limits. He kisses her softly. “I’ll be right back,” he says, going to dispose of the condom.
And he returns a moment later, trousers now zipped, belt buckled, a washcloth in his hand. He leans over her, pulling her gently to the edge of the bed and pushing the fabric of her skirt out of the way. As he wipes her clean, he catalogs the skin of her thighs, sinking down to kneel on the floor so he can press butterfly kisses to her knees.
“You good?” he asks eventually, pulling her skirt back down and making her shiver.
Her answer surprises even herself.
“Yes,” she whispers.
---
She wakes up to his lips on her shoulder.
Satine hums.
“It was much too dark last night for me to fulfill my promise of a complete inventory,” he says against her skin. “May I now?”
She nods, still groggy, still blinking against sleep.
Ben pulls her sleep shirt up and over her head, and she shivers at the brisk air. “Sorry,” he says as she pulls her arms beneath her chest, tucking them in from the cold.
“No, you’re not,” Satine says.
He grins. “I’m not,” he agrees, and he pulls the sheet down to her hips.
His first touch is to the center of her back. “I remember this mole,” he says. “Besides the ones on your neck, it’s my favorite.”
“You have a favorite mole of mine?”
“Oh, yes,” says Ben. “I had a ranking system, back when we were teenagers. It was based on your response to my kissing them. I wonder…will the intensity of your responses to attention to particular moles have changed over the years? Another thing I must inventory.”
Satine chuckles. “For science.”
“For science indeed. The one time that quantitative ranks are actually useful.”
At this she laughs more deeply, and he chooses this moment to press a kiss to the center of her back.
“Hmmm,” says Ben. “I think you’re suppressing your reaction because I told you I was going to be watching it. I’ll have to try another day when I haven’t reminded you. That way the data won’t be biased.”
“God forbid you collect data that are not impartial.”
“The absolute horror,” he agrees, moving his lips lower. “The muscles are more defined here than I remember, more so than I’d expect from natural age-related processes. Yoga? Pilates? Barre?”
Satine nods. “All of the above. I realized I was running myself into the ground with cardio. The running was just too hard on my joints. I switched to workouts that don’t require as much impact.”
“Interesting,” he says. “The Satine I knew wouldn’t have stayed still long enough for a yoga class.”
“Well, twenty-five year old Satine grew tired of the stress fractures that made her do nothing but sit still, and she had to figure out an alternative.” She shrugs. “It’s probably for the best. My long-distance running friends now have the beginnings of osteoarthritis, and my joints seem to be better off than theirs.”
As he laughs, she feels his hot breath against her skin. His lips begin to move up her spine. “No signs of the remnants of a tan,” he says as he plants kisses between her shoulder blades. “Do you not ever go on vacation?”
“Maybe I’m just particularly careful with my sunscreen regimen.”
Ben snorts. “You always did burn at the slightest exposure.”
“One of the reasons I fit right in in Norway,” Satine agrees.
“But you didn’t answer my question.”
Satine sighs. “You know the life of an academic. It’s pretty similar to the life of a State Department employee. Technically I got vacation time, but there really wasn’t time to use it. There was always some other crisis to address.”
Ben kisses her shoulder. “We should go on vacation,” he says.
Satine glances over her shoulder at him. “You mean for Spring Break?”
“As much as I would love to take you somewhere for Spring Break, I actually am flying out to Wisconsin that week.”
Satine has to laugh at this. “Wisconsin in the beginning of April? Not the ideal time for a visit.”
“I’d tend to agree with you. But this trip comes six years too late.”
There’s sadness in his tone, and Satine reaches out to pull one of his hands so that it rests beneath her, bordered by her own.
“My advisor wrote me into his will. I wasn’t in the right headspace to deal with it when I graduated, and I’ve been putting it off ever since. Maybe my way of pretending he’s not really gone? Anyway.”
Satine feels his lips on her shoulder blade, his beard scratching her skin.
“He left me his field notes and his key informant interview recordings. Maybe there was something important in there he wanted me to publish.”
She holds his hand more tightly. “Kind of morbid to include that in his will, don’t you think?”
She feels him shrug. “I thought so at first, too, but…Russia wasn’t a safe place to do field work. He knew that. And Anakin let slip he told you what I thought my advisor was really doing over there, so maybe he had his reasons for being morbid. He had a life-partner, Tahl, who oversaw the will. The two of them were incredibly low profile, so much so that I only learned of Tahl's existence after he died. It'll be the first time I meet her.”
Ben squeezes her fingers.
“At any rate, there’s this incredible woman here in the District whom I’m trying to convince of my emotional availability, and I figure that this trip is a good first step.”
Satine ducks her head to kiss his knuckles, and she feels Ben’s lips return to her scapula.
“But in regard to vacation,” says Ben, “I meant this summer. You’ll have moved in. Now, we didn’t actually talk about this, but I’m assuming that means you’ll give up your apartment, right?”
Satine nods. “If word got around that I still had it, I think it would make people question whether I was fully committed.”
He’s kissing the crook of her neck now. “Well, when you move in, that’s only one location the two of us have to pay rent on, as opposed to two. We should splurge - would you like to go to the beach? I assume you can work from anywhere, and the only class I’m teaching in the summer term is online anyway.”
“You just want an excuse to get me in a bikini and be able to feel me up whenever I need to reapply sunscreen. Which, fortunately for you, is quite often.”
“So is that you giving your approval?” His lips are on the nape of her neck, moving to her other shoulder.
“Perhaps,” says Satine.
His hands suddenly flip her over, and she knows he wants to study her expression. “Perhaps?” he quotes.
But the cold air against her skin makes Satine suddenly hyper-aware that she had neglected to wear a bralette to bed last night. Ben seems to notice at the exact moment she does.
“Let’s come back to this discussion,” he says. “I’m finding myself momentarily distracted.”
Satine quirks a brow. “Oh?”
Ben leans toward her. “Is this okay?” he whispers, watching her eyes. When she nods, he kisses the side of one breast.
Satine closes her eyes, letting herself sink back into the pillows.
He licks her skin, swirling his tongue around her nipple.
“I told you,” he says, his voice clipped, “back when we met again, that you were more beautiful than ever. And even then, I had no fucking idea how right I was.”
He returns his attention to her skin.
Satine smiles as she feels his fingers move to her other breast, kneading her nipple. “Ben,” she whispers, opening her eyes, and he looks up at her, curious. “Can we just do this? Not go any further. Just this.” She closes her eyes again. “It feels…it feels so good.”
“I’m yours to command,” Ben says, and the reverence in his tone could make her cry.
She reaches out to tangle her fingers in his hair, holding him to her.
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Holy fucking shit the Dad’s Troubles AU story?? That i’ve been teasing since January??? It’s finally done??????
this took so fucking long that i’m debating posting an alternate and an extended unedited version that’s how many times i’ve written and re-written this thing.
anyway without further ado, the posts you’ll need for the context of this story are here and here, and the art teaser is here (if you’ve been keeping up with the Dad’s Troubles AU since 2022 you probably don’t need the context lol, but it has been a while so they’re there for whoever needs a refresher)
@quotethemenevervore (sorry if that’s the wrong account to tag btw) you seemed very excited for this story so i figured i’d tag you lol
tw: soft, safe vore, panic attack ig???
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” “I know, but, c’mon…we have to tell him eventually.”
Charlie sat on Schlatt’s living room table, the human leaning his head on his palm to be at a closer level to the borrower he was talking to. This was the same conversation they’d been having on and off for months now: should Ted be let in on the secret that Charlie wasn’t human. Obviously, there was a clear answer for them: eventually. Now, when ‘eventually’ actually was…that was a different problem.
“Do I need to remind you what happened the first and only time you met him in person?” Schlatt asked, to which Charlie just groaned. “You have to bring up the fish thing every time, don’t you? Cause yeah, I remember almost drowning, thank you very much.” “It’s more so the principle that he would throw you out a fuckin window, but you get my point. He clearly doesn’t see you as a person.” As much as Schlatt always hated to think about that, it was something him and Ted could never agree on. Ted was of the opinion that borrowers were basically just bipedal rats, and nothing Schlatt had done to convince him otherwise had worked. “But what if I changed that?” Charlie challenged, standing to pace the space in front of Schlatt. “He knows me, he’s known me for years. We’re friends, fuck, I’d say the three of us are best friends! There’s no way he’d just forget all of that the second he sees what height I am, right?” He finished, looking up at Schlatt with something akin to fear. Like he wanted Schlatt to tell him he was right, that it would all work out. But he couldn’t, because didn’t have an answer to what Ted would do. Schlatt sighed. “Honestly, I don’t kn-“
The doorknob to the apartment shook. It was locked, Schlatt always locked it when it was just him in the apartment. Schlatt and Charlie froze. Was Quackity trying to get in? Cause he wasn’t supposed to be home for a good few more hours, hence the door being locked. They were both absolutely silent, waiting for any confirmation that it was their mutual friend, until they heard a few utterances of cursing from behind the locked door.
“God fucking damnit, where are the keys Schlatt gave me-“
Ted.
~~~
Shit, shit. Schlatt had totally forgotten he gave Ted a space pair of keys for when he was visiting. Fuck, fuck, what the fuck should he do with Charlie?
He heard the key turn in the lock.
All of the borrower tunnels were too far away for the remaining few seconds he had till Ted walked in. There’d be no disguising that he was talking to Charlie. Charlie, who was part of a species that Ted believed couldn’t talk. He wouldn’t be able to explain himself.
He heard a creak as the door started to open.
Did he have a pocket? Shit, no, he had a crew neck and the pockets on his jeans were too tight and small for Charlie to fit in. There was only one other option he could think of. Fuck. Charlie, like him, had been frozen from shock this whole time. That would probably make this easier. He quickly lowered himself down and tried to grab Charlie to shove him in his mouth.
“Schlatt!” He heard Ted shout, and suddenly, without warning, Charlie moved.
Frantically, almost blindly running at him with no warning and accidentally falling past his hand and into his mouth, and everything went to shit.
~~~
Oh no. Speak of the devil. Ted. God dammit, why did he have to show up right when he and Schlatt were talking about him. And why did Schlatt even give him a spare key?
He heard the key turn in the lock.
Ok, fuck, how the fuck was he supposed to get out of this one? He didn’t have time to run, he wasn’t naïve enough to believe that. And contrary to how often he joked about the window and the almost-getting-eaten-by-a-fish thing, it was actually a pretty horrifying experience that he would not like to relive, thank you very much.
He heard a creak as the door started to open.
Shit, what should he do? What could he do?! He was out in the open, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide unless Schlatt had pockets or- wait. Schlatt. Schlatt…himself could be a place to hide. He’d seen Tubbo do it, that had been a long fuckin conversation after walking in on that, but it was safe. Probably a hell of a lot safer than being anywhere near Ted. But was he really willing to end up down his best friends throat?
“Schlatt!” He heard Ted shout and, apparently, he was.
He broke free from his panicked state and immediately sprinted towards Schlatt, planning to climb his shirt to his mouth and just hoping to god Schlatt would get the hint. However, he apparently hadn’t noticed that Schlatt had the same idea as him.
“Schlatt?” Ted asked.
Charlie ran full speed into something jarringly warm and wet. The change in…well, everything environmentally made him yell, as any and all light was suddenly stripped from him.
The door clicked closed, Ted was in the room with them. Thank god they’d been facing away from the door.
Charlie felt himself be thrown backward in the dark space, losing his balance as one of his legs caught in something that started to pull him down.
Oh fuck, that was weird, but it was fine. He wanted this, he decided to do this, he…he was getting eaten. It’s fine. This is fine, it’s Schlatt for fucks sake. And yet, the part of his brain that hadn’t quite registered that the “getting eaten” thing was actually his plan, told him to fight, to try and free his leg from the throat that threatened to drag him deeper into the giant.
“Are you ok, man?” Charlie heard Ted ask from beyond the closed teeth around him. He was getting closer.
The darkest split a bit, and something else entered the mouth with him for a moment. He couldn’t see well enough through his spit covered glasses and small amount of light what they were, but he guessed pretty immediately when they got a grip of his arms and started to shove him down the esophagus. Fingers. Schlatt pinned Charlie’s arms at his sides and shoved more of him down.
The fingers retracted from the mouth when only his legs remained out of the throat. He felt the environment around him change and realized what was happening. His struggling increased tenfold, kicking desperately at the teeth and gums around him to no avail, as the giant swallowed one last time and sent him fully into the throat.
~~~~~
“Schlatt!” Ted yelled, running over to see Schlatt holding his throat, unable to breathe. Ted went to wrap his arms around him to perform the heimlich, but Schlatt was thankfully aware enough to push him away at the last second. Unfortunately, that move made him send himself crashing onto the floor. Ted rushed over again, worry plastered on his face as Schlatt held up a hand, signaling to stop. So, Ted did just that, running off to do god knows what. Schlatt, meanwhile, could feel Charlie get stuck just a short way before he stopped blocking his windpipe. Schlatt pushed at his throat, swallowing frantically, pounding at his chest, anything to get Charlie down faster. He didn’t realize just how much…bigger Charlie was than his son. Charlie was a grown man, and tall by borrower standards, too. Compare that to Tubbo who was short by all standards and Schlatt realized he may have bitten off more than he could chew. Charlie seemed to be helping it go faster somewhat by squirming his way down, though he doubted it was on purpose. Though maybe this was a thought he could have later since at the moment he was very focused on not choking and dying on his best friend.
It was when Schlatt was starting to black out that Ted came back with a glass of water, not even giving Schlatt time to process it before forcefully opening his mouth and pouring it down his throat, giving Schlatt the ability to swallow Charlie down farther and finally unblock him from his windpipe. Schlatt fell to the ground again with a gasp, trying to drag as much air into his lungs as humanely possible. He placed a hand on his chest as he finally, fucking finally, felt Charlie make his way closer towards the stomach. He dissolved into a coughing fit on the floor, Ted slowly lowering himself to sit next to him. Schlatt wasn’t even gonna try to explain anything to Ted yet, though. Not until Charlie ended up where he needed to be and he could stop worrying.
He did his best to keep a poker face while he felt a much heavier weight than usual drop into his stomach. He really hadn’t thought about how much bigger Charlie was than Tubbo, but it was more noticeable now than ever.
Immediately he felt a flurry of movement from his stomach, limbs flailing and Charlie trying to get accustomed to whatever it was like in there. Schlatt squeezed his stomach in so Charlie wouldn’t trigger something audible that he’d have to make an excuse over, but quickly found that the borrower’s whole frame was shaking.
Schlatt only had time to worry for a second before he was snapped out of his shock with a hand clap onto his shoulder, snapping his attention back to what was happening on the outside. “Schlatt, you with me, man?” “..Yeah! Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m fine.” Right, he had an act to put on for Ted. “What the fuck were you choking on?” “Oh nothing, so, what brings you here?” Schlatt asked, trying to redirect the conversation. He didn’t know what excuse he would use for that shit show if he needed one, but he doubted he’d be able to convincingly lie to Ted about it with Charlie right there listening. But it wasn’t like he could say the truth. ‘Sorry about that Ted, I was choking on our third podcast member because he’s scared you’ll hurt him but don’t worry, he’s in my stomach now so he’s safe from, again, exclusively you.’
Yeah, no.
“Well, I came over to surprise you. Didn’t think you’d almost die or something.” Ted said, and Schlatt chuckled a bit in response. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect anyone to break into my apartment.” Schlatt stood, silently thankful for Ted helping him up as he adjusted to the added weight in his middle. He felt Charlie sway a bit as he stood, though there was significantly less fighting back on Charlie’s end at the movement. Thank fuck. “You down here for any reason other than to scare me half to death?” Schlatt said, pacing over to his fridge under the guise of grabbing food while he silently felt for any signal from Charlie now that his back was turned to Ted. “Yeah, actually.” Ted said, leaning against the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen.
Schlatt hummed to pretend he was paying attention while pressing into his stomach a few quick times. Short short long. Long long long, long short long. ‘U-O-K-?’ He knew Charlie could translate it, he was the one that taught Schlatt Morse code. He was waiting for two taps back; their signal for yes. Hell, he’d even take one tap for no, something. Hopefully, Charlie would get the hint that he was ok.
“…Schlatt?” Ted questioned, again snapping Schlatt out of his worries again. Right. The act. “Sorry, must’ve zoned out, what were you saying?” “I was saying I’m here for a reason. You’re not the only one of my friends in the area, but surprise! I’m staying down here for a few months to do content!” Ted looked to Schlatt expectantly, and Schlatt did his best to be happy for Ted, but he was sure his smile looked forced. He didn’t know if it was his worry for Charlie or just the direction the conversation was headed in, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut that he knew wasn’t Charlie’s fault. He did his best to ignore it. “That’s great, man! Sounds like it’ll be fun.” “That’s the goal.” Ted answered. “Do a couple collab videos, some vlogs, it’ll be sick-” “Mhm.” Schlatt responded while Ted continued talking, tapping out the morse again. And again. And again for good measure. If this wouldn’t get Charlie to do something, anything, then something was wrong. He waited a few seconds before beginning the pattern again with more force, starting to wonder if Charlie had just passed out at that point, until-
Something. An arm or leg or something kicking out where he’d been pressing in, hard, and he recoiled his hand away immediately with a wince of pain. Charlie packed way more of a punch than Tubbo or Tommy did, that’s for damn sure. He wanted to try communication again, though he was smart enough to realize that his physical gestures were not appreciated in the slightest. So he did nothing and waited. He waited a few seconds, maybe even a few minutes, until, finally…he felt two weak taps back.
~~~
Falling headfirst into the pitch black stomach of his best friend was about as pleasant as Charlie expected it would be.
Immediately almost all of his senses were absolutely fucked, the wetness and humidity of the air around him clinging to his skin and fogging his glasses. The spongey walls around him gave way far too easily for him to properly get his balance, and he kept face planting into the bottom of the organ every time he tried to right himself. There was also liquid up to his waist (water, spit, he didn’t know, nor did he care to at the moment) which he kept almost fucking drowning himself in since he couldn’t stay upright long enough or see enough to figure out which way was up, down, forwards, backwards-
The walls suddenly pressed in on him, making Charlie squeak in fear almost inaudibly, pinning him in place thankfully right side up and out of the water, and he realized he was shaking. Why was he shaking? He was fine, he knew that, he knew that, why was he scared? He trusted Schlatt, this wasn’t even the human’s idea, it was his, he chose this.
The walls slowly began to release their hold on him as his thoughts started to suffocate him more than the stomach could ever.
Why, why the fuck was this so awful for him? He was safe, safe, he knew it was safe, he’d seen this happen a hundred times.
The walls began to press in periodically.
He’d willingly hung out with Schlatt and Quackity both when he knew that they had Tubbo inside. Tubbo was fine then, so he’s fine now. Science. Logic. He was safe. He wasn’t food. He wasn’t food.
short short long
Schlatt cared, cared enough about his safety to let him use his body as a barrier between him and someone who could hurt him. Would hurt him. His body. His giant, dangerous body that had been able to swallow him. His body that could kill him at any moment.
long long long
But he wouldn’t. Schlatt cared. He wasn’t food. He was safe. He was safe. Safe within his human friend. Safe from his human friend. Guarded inside a creature that could kill him from a creature that could kill him.
long short long
But his human friend wouldn’t kill him. But his human friend would, almost did, kill him.
The walls were still closing in on him.
Fuck. No, wrong human, Schlatt wants to protect him. Schlatt is his friend. Ted is his friend, their friend.
The walls are closing in periodically. Again and again.
He’s suffocating.
Ted would, almost did, kill him. He almost drowned, was almost swallowed, if it hadn’t been for Schlatt. He was almost swallowed. He was almost swallowed. He was swallowed. He was swallowed, he had been swallowed-
Something pressed in on the stomach again hard enough to force the wall to make contact with him, and in his hysterics Charlie kicked it as hard as he could manage, hearing a sharp hiss of pain be sucked into the lungs above him. Fuck. No, fuck, what is he doing? This is Schlatt. Schlatt. Schlatt, who’s never been anything but good to him, who’s treated him with nothing but respect despite what he was, who raised a borrower child and did a damn good job of it, too. Why…why was he acting like this? He trusts Schlatt, he’s literally thrown his life into Schlatt’s hands more times than he can count, why…why was this so much more difficult?
Fuck, focus on the task at hand. Deep breaths. 4, 7, 8. Again, 4, 7, 8. Charlie forced himself to think of the things around him. Liquid, heat, the weird spongey walls that had been caving in. There’s a good place to start. With the fog of his hysteria clearing, Charlie tried to remember what the pattern of the walls pressing in was. Short short long…long long long…long short long. Charlie let out a breathy, humorless laugh. “You ok?” Schlatt had been asking. He suddenly felt a little bit dumb for his panicked state earlier.
Struggling to push himself to what he was now sure was the front of the stomach with his legs still weak from fear, he settled himself against the wall to better hear exactly what was going on outside. Finally, he answered Schlatt’s question by tapping back twice, letting the human know he was ok, even if the shaking hadn’t quite let up yet. He laughed to himself again, this time more genuinely, as he heard the immediate sigh of relief from above him.
Yeah, he was sure he was safe.
~~~
Charlie was ok. Holy fuck, Schlatt could have cried with relief. He didn’t hurt his best friend, that was a weight off his shoulders. “I did want to talk with you about something though, just to get your opinion on it.” “Sure, what’s up man?” Schlatt said, attention fully on Ted for the first time in this whole conversation. “It’s about Charlie.”
Schlatt froze, and he could feel Charlie tense up. “Uh…what about him?” “I just, i don’t know…it’s hard to explain.” Ted frustratedly motioned with his hands and tried to explain more before sighing. “Did i do something wrong?” Ted said, a genuine look of confusion and hurt in his eyes. “Everytime we talk, it’s fine. We’re friends, and we have been for a while, and I know he’s on the same page as me. But any time I ask him anything vaguely personal, even if it’s just shit like his hair color or mcdonald’s order or fucking anything, it’s like we’re back to being strangers. Like I don’t have the right as his friend to know shit like that. The only thing I know about him is his first name and honestly? It wouldn’t even bother me if he wasn’t so close with you.” Schlatt hadn’t expected that, and from what he could tell of Charlie relaxing and pressing closer into the front wall of his stomach to hear more, he hadn’t expected it either. “Ted, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just…well, for one, Charlie has known me for a lot longer than he’s known you. Of course he’s more comfortable with me. But it’s not that he doesn’t trust you or anything. I promise he considers you one of his best friends. Even when it’s just us talking, he’s never said anything about you that would imply anything else.” “It’s not that I don’t believe that, but I just…sorry, maybe I’m being selfish here. If he doesn’t want to meet me it’s not my business to pry, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently.” Ted finished, staring down at his hands. Schlatt…wasn’t sure where to go from there. He felt horrible for keeping such a massive secret from one of his oldest friends, especially about something that’d clearly been causing so much inner turmoil, but he couldn’t betray Charlie like that.
“Schlatt, can you hear me?” Charlie suddenly interjected. Schlatt discreetly tapped his stomach twice for confirmation and Charlie continued. “Ok, then i’m gonna need you to repeat after me, got it?” Schlatt tried not to let the confusion he felt read on his face for Ted to see, but he tapped twice again anyway. He sat in silence for a few seconds before Charlie took a deep breath and started talking.
“But, y’know, Charlie and I were talking about doing something with the podcast soon. We were gonna bring it up to you later, but since you’re in town we could move it up.” Schlatt repeated, and Ted looked up, puzzled. “What were you thinking?” Charlie paused again breathing deeply, though Schlatt could feel his tail swaying in anxiety. However, when he finally spoke up, his voice read nothing but confidence. “We were thinking we could do a few in person recordings.”
Schlatt froze. Had Charlie said what he thought he said? No way in hell was he serious. “Repeat it, Schlatt. I’ve thought it through, i mean it.” Holy shit he was serious. And so, he repeated. God, he wished that Charlie had been able to see the look of utter shock on Ted’s face. “You’re joking.” He said, and Schlatt shook his head while waiting for the next prompt. “Charlie wants to meet you, he’s just…afraid he won’t live up to your expectations.” Schlatt repeated, and Ted scoffed. “Please, that’s the least he should be concerned about. At this point the guy could be a serial killer and I’d still be thrilled to meet him.” Schlatt could tell when the truth hit him fully, because Ted’s expression brightened tenfold. He looked like he’d just won the lottery. “I just, I can’t believe it! Holy shit, I’m gonna meet the Charlie Slimecicle!” “Yeah, me either.” Charlie sighed and Schlatt repeated, though he said it for both of them.
After some more casual conversation about Ted’s plans and ideas for the newly decided live podcast recording, Ted finally said goodbye, promising to let Charlie know how excited he was. Schlatt let out a breath of relief he didn’t even know he was holding when Ted shut the door behind him. He locked it immediately and turned to lean back against the door. “Holy shit that was stressful.” “You’re telling me.”
Schlatt facepalmed as the weight of what he’d just signed on to doing hit him, sliding his way down the door into a sitting position. Charlie felt his stomach drop at the action as well. “Sooo…” Charlie started, lightly kicking at the wall in front of him. “This is weird.” “Very.”
Silence.
“Are you ok?” “Huh?” “Are you ok.” Schlatt repeated. “…yes.” Charlie answered,not exactly confidently, but surely. “I am now, at least. I just…panicked. It’s fucking weird in here and I just- it just took me a bit to handle it, I think. To get over myself cause I know it’s safe and I trust you. It’s just that the idea of getting eaten has been drilled into my head as ‘horrifying and deadly’ for so long that I just lost it for a bit. Fun part of being raised by a traditional colony, am I right? Sorry for kicking you, by the way.” “Don’t worry about that, man.” Schlatt responded, lightly pressing in on his stomach as if asking Charlie if he was ok with contact now. When he didn’t get a negative response from Charlie, he pressed a bit harder and began rubbing where he felt his friend. “I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling like right now. I mean, getting swallowed whole? By a creature over ten times bigger than you? That sounds downright fuckin terrifying. That’s some hollywood horror movie bullshit. I don’t even want to imagine what me choking on you felt like from your point of view. I have the easy job, you got eaten alive, you have every right to have panicked. But…I am glad you trust me that much.” “Thanks, cause I do. And for the record; i’m feeling wet. Very wet and sticky and I can just tell that my fucking glasses are fogged up even though it’s dark enough that i shouldn’t care, but i do.” Charlie complained, making Schlatt laugh.
More awkward silence.
“Why the fuck did you do that??” Schlatt asked suddenly, and Charlie groaned, pushing his glasses into his face with the heels of his palms. Despite the lack of clarification, he knew exactly what Schlatt was asking about. “I don’t know, dude, I panicked! I just…” Charlie sighed, dropping his hands. “He deserves to know. And no better time than the present, I guess. Besides, I have actually been thinking about it. Maybe if he takes it well, we can make it public and some fans will be able to see that we borrowers aren’t what they think we are.” “And if he doesn’t?” “I…I don’t know.” Charlie admitted. “I want to think that he’ll try to change how he thinks of me for the sake of our friendship, but I truly just don’t know.”
“Well, I’m behind you, whatever happens.” Schlatt said. Charlie smiled. “I know.” he answered, confident and happy in knowing that he truly did believe that.
#OH MY GOD ITS DONE#YIPPEE#THIS IS MAYBE THE MOST DIFFICULT TIME IVE HAD WRITING ANYTHING#i’m so glad this is done lol#cyncerity#mcyt gt#mcyt g/t#dad’s troubles au#cynwrites#tiny!charlie#tiny!slimecicle#giant!schlatt#giant!ted#soft vore#safe vore#g/t vore#tw vore
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HAPPY TENNISVERSARY!!! 🎾🎉😝
And, thank you!
When this blog started, never in a million years could I have guessed what it would become. I thought, at most, a few people would come by, laugh at me for like a week, and then forget me and move on to the next big gimmick blog. And, most definitely, that’s where I would be if not for the lovely, dedicated, passionate people I ran into.
Here’s a quick history lesson, with many thankyous scattered within..
It all really started when my lovely friend Sam, who doesn’t use tumblr, suggested I create a new gimmick blog where every day all I said was “I want ___” (with the tags, of course, all reading, “I want ___”.) I decided on tennis ball, and for about a week I vigilantly workee to ensure a tennispost every day. And things were good, then, if a little quiet, until I decided to start a reblog chain with myself, @sophiamoment , where I’d ask “what the fuck is your blog” and then my side blog would just say “I want tennis ball”.
Now, as you could probably tell, I didn’t put too much care into the post at the time. I broke character, forgot to edit out the heaps of evidence that we were the same person, replied to my own post way too many times, but THEN.
My first mutual, @somewhere-south-of-neutral , tagged @i-say-ok , who FUCKING RESPONDED. (guess what they said lmao)
This brought lots of attention to that particular post, first by the I say Ok community, then by another gimmick blog reblogging, and then by THAT gimmick blog’s community, and so on. To this day my one goal in life is to relive that pure excitement, joy, and just a little horror I felt when I saw just how far that post was breaking beyond containment.
Honestly, if you’d asked me then, I’d assume that from there my blog shoulda died, but then. ohoHOH.
A blog whose URL I forget going by A Tennis Ball responded.
I promptly created @another-tennis-ball in response.
And then things went, as my gramma would say, hog wild.
Today, we’ve got a masterlist of tennis ball roleplay blogs longer than my list of flaws. We’ve got active, inactive, sometimes-active accounts, all of whom have had fun just.. talking, pretending to be tennis balls, just having a good time. (Even my parents got involved!) There’s a discord, a lore doc, an upcoming crossover w/ a DND campaign my friend wrote(?!)
And, here we are today.
All I can really say is THANK YOU!
Thank you to those of you who passed by and spread the one infamous “what the fuck is your blog” post. Thank you to everyone who’s gotten involved and paved the way to this community. THANK YOU TO MARC, WHOS URL I FORGET, WHO IS CARRYING THE LORE RN!!
I love you all so much, thank you for being here & turning my shitpost into a reality.
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HEY! Writeblr Intro!!!
Hi, my name is Caitlin, and I’m a third year Creative Writing student in rainy England. I’ve got a couple WIPs but none are set in stone so you’ll have to bear with me for a while haha.
- I’m here for a good time so my writing is solely based on my mood and vibe at the time, please do not expect consistency.
- I write short stories mainly but am trying to branch out into novels so you’ll hopefully be seeing a bit more of that in the future.
- I am a university student with anxiety and decision fatigue so things change drastically around here every so often but I promise if I go quiet I will come back.
Let’s get into the WIPs (these will be constantly edited and changing) and feel free to ask me any questions about any of them, even ones that might have been removed from this list if you’re interested.
IF I GIVE UP, SO MUST YOU - a Wild West literary fiction novel
STATUS: currently drafting (on hiatus)
GENRE: literary fiction, sapphic romance(?)
CURRENT WORD COUNT: 3,995
Okay, so a bit of info about this project. I started writing it a bit ago purely because I wanted to write a Wild West novel and then it turned sapphic and then it became literary. It follows an unnamed narrator as she navigates life outside of her small town after she is targeted by bandits in a raid. A coming of age novel that explores what it means to figure things out for yourself whilst battling with false truths engrained into your from a young age.
NIGHT SWIMMING (working title) - a short story collection
STATUS: literally haven’t even started :/
GENRE: literary, horror, surrealist
This collection is my version of NaNoWriMo this year because there is no way I can feasibly write a novel in a month where I also have to write my dissertation first draft and three other short stories like no. I’m hoping to do an update on my page whenever a story is complete, so I will also update this section to include the names of all the stories going in. Stay posted is all I’m saying ;). All I know is I want it to explore the everyday in a surrealist way (as most of my stories do).
DAMAGED GOODS - a dystopian sci-fi novel
STATUS: currently drafting (on hiatus)
GENRE: dystopian, sci-if, speculative
CURRENT WORD COUNT: 2,323
So, I haven’t done an intro post to this yet simply because I had to put it to one side once university started again. A brief summary is this: Auden, an average guy, husband, and father, has gotten into a dreadful car accident. In this society, however, surgery is replaced with metal transplantation. Due to Auden’s extensive injuries, he now must live in suburbia with a completely metal head, arm, and leg.
I’m super happy with this concept and the initial 2,000 words I’ve got I’m pretty okay with. The main issue is where to take it and if it will be a full novel or more of a novella.
EAT YOUR YOUNG - a gothic horror novella
STATUS: currently drafting
GENRE: gothic horror
CURRENT WORD COUNT: 4,950
I haven’t done an intro for this project because I honestly wasn’t sure I’d return to it but the spooky season is upon us and I really want to get back into writing this. Brief Summary: Mr Gerard is an accountant hired by the Heron Manor estate to deal with the affairs of the three sisters residing there after a mysterious death of the man of the house.
This is going to me my main personal priority other than my short stories for now and I’ll try to get an intro out soon.
Okay, so that’s all for me folks. Like I said, any questions please feel free to send me an ask or a message, don’t be a stranger. As a writer I always wanna talk about my projects, OCs, and anything else writing craft related!
I’m tagging some mutuals, if you wish to be tagged or removed :( - let me know x
@annlillyjose @dallonwrites @aesa @winterandwords @iannicellis @isherwoodj
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packing
santiago garcia x reader
summary: you're moving out. santi helps you packing, and it's the perfect occasion to finally talk about everything unsaid between the two of you.
warnings: mentions of sextoys for some reason....... don't look at me like that. sexy times mentionned and implied, the fic fades to smut so it kinda starts but nothing too steamy
tags: f!reader, mutual pinning, friends to lovers
word count: 1.8k
masterlist | taglist | ao3
“Heard you needed help. I’m your man” were Santiago’s words before he winked at you and stepped into your half empty apartment.
You moved out at the beginning of next week, and because the laziness got the best of you you now had to rush to finish packing your stuff.
You had started when you were determined, all energy gone once your back hurt at the end of your first day of packing, and you hadn’t continued since. And this was your mistake.
You could have been wiser and you could have started packing gradually, a bit every day but no– procrastinating had sounded so much better to your “it’s cool, I still have time” ears.
You had started panicking when you realized it was Saturday already, so you had called your friend group in hope that they could help you get this covered, except they all happened to be conveniently busy. Except for one of them.
“I heard Santi’s available” was Frankie's casual reply when you called him to ask for his help, and you swore you had heard him smirk over the phone when he said this.
You honestly doubted Frankie, Benny and Will all happened to be busy, and you firmly believed that for a good reason; they had been doing their best to isolate you and Santiago since you had kissed at Benny’s birthday party.
Even though you had tried to resonate with them by telling them that you were both drunk and that this kiss probably didn’t mean much to Santiago, they had been actively keeping on trying to get the two of you to have a conversation about it.
Except as of now, packing was your priority.
“Thank you for coming to help me. I’ve been procrastinating doing this and I don’t know if I’d be done by tomorrow night doing this all by myself” you sighed, picking up an empty cardboard box and throwing it to Santiago.
He caught it and pinched a smile.
“No problem hermosa, you know I’m more useful helping you here than watching TV naked on my couch. Where do I start?” he asked, walking through your living room and looking at the boxes you had already packed used to support the TV, since you had already emptied and packed your TV stand.
“Would be nice if you could finish the bookcase next to the couch. You can put the CDs with the books, just name the box with both” you instructed, picking up the marker from the floor and handing it to him.
“Yes ma’am” he smiled taking the marker from your hand in a swift motion, determined to start his job and to do it right. Maybe the other boys not being here would actually profit you and you would be faster with your task, no distractions around.
“You know you’re not getting out of here without explaining why you watch TV naked” you said going back to the kitchen where you had started packing all your cooking tools. It was a kitchen opened on the living room, so you were not far from each other.
He chuckled. “Well because why not” he replied as he sat on the floor to empty the lower part of the bookcase.
“Why” you insisted, placing your cooking tools strategically in the box so everything would fit perfectly.
“You know I’m not the only one who does it. I mean– staying home naked. Frankie does it too. Well not anymore since his daughter was born but he used to do it”
“Bless that kid” you chuckled. “Still doesn’t answer my question” you asked looking back at him.
“It’s comfortable” he shrugged. “Things swaying freely” he said turning to look at you, a smirk on his face.
“Okay I’ll stop asking questions” you laughed shaking your head.
An hour and a half later Santiago had finished packing your living room, leaving only the couch and TV surrounded by cardboard boxes. You were also almost done with the kitchen except for a few cabinets and of course still leaving out the essential: a few forks, knives and spoons, and a few glasses and plates.
“Need help for the kitchen?” he asked, sitting on the counter.
“Yep, I was about to empty my mug cabinets. I have a lot” you nodded. You grabbed another cardboard box and sighed when you looked around but didn’t find what you were looking for. “Fuck can you get me the bubble wrap? I must have left it in my bedroom when I was packing the perfume bottles in my drawers”
“Sure be right back” you thanked him before starting to get the mugs out of the cabinet, placing them on the counter waiting for him to come back to start wrapping them.
Santiago went into your room and searched for the roll.
Walking towards your bed, he saw something looking like what he was looking for peeking out from under your bed, it had probably rolled and gotten under there accidentally.
He kneeled down to pick it up, noticing a black plastic box placed under your bed. He chuckled to himself before the pain in his knees reminded him that he couldn’t stay in this position for long, grabbing the bubble wrap roll and standing back up.
“Nice sextoys collection” he threw with a smug smile as he came back to the kitchen, handing you the bubble wrap roll.
You almost dropped the mug between your hands. “Wha– don’t tell me you–”
“No, but now I have the confirmation that it’s really your toy box” he laughed, and even harder when he saw your startled and slightly embarrassed face.
“You want a medal or something” you chuckled, taking the roll from his hands, your own hands not even capable of functioning correctly. You would definitely be losing some mugs after that.
“Hey don’t be embarrassed” he nudged your side. “Ever used them with someone else?” he asked leaning against the counter.
“Jeez Santi” you laughed. You looked at him and rolled your eyes. “Tried to. The guy didn’t want to because he saw it as its enemy. Turns out its enemy did a way better job than him afterwards” you explained wrapping one of your least favorite mug so you wouldn’t regret it if it slipped from your slightly trembling hands.
“Mh I see” he said reaching to grab one of the mugs to help you wrap them. “You just haven’t tried with the right guy yet” he sighed, turning to look at you.
You focused on arranging the box correctly to avoid his gaze as your cheeks heated at his words, trying to discard the feeling. “Probably” you mumbled. Probably.
—
Santi plopped down on your couch, a low grunt leaving his mouth as he did so.
You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, exhaling in relief.
You were done. It seemed impossible, but here you were, everything packed.
“Wanna drink something as a reward?” you offered before you could sit down for good.
“Got a beer?” he asked raising his eyebrows.
“Yup” you said turning around to grab them from your refrigerator.
You uncapped them and sat down on your couch next to him, handing him his beer. He clinked his bottleneck against yours and you smiled, taking a sip before letting out another sigh of relief.
“Seriously, thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you” you declared smiling at him, and he finished his sip before smiling back at you.
“Eh if I hadn’t helped you who would have?” he rhetorically asked, chuckling.
“Right” you sighed, remembering the sarcastic exclamation point at the end of Benny’s message when he said he couldn’t come, Will’s fake pondering face when he did a quick review of his schedule when you called him on facetime, and of course Frankie suggesting Santi’s presence.
“You know they’re not really busy right” he questioned, turning to you and leaning his arm against the back of your couch. You threw a single nod before taking a sip of your beer. “You know they just want us to figure out what’s going on between us, right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
You sighed and looked over at him. “I know. I think they made that obvious”
He scratched the light stubble on his chin and put his beer down on the floor before returning to his previous position.
“Then what’s going on between us?” he asked tilting his head, and he smiled when he saw you chuckling. “What? I think we should give them what they want or they’re never gonna stop” he shrugged.
“Okay.” you cleared your throat before going further. “Well, I don’t know what’s going on between us but I liked kissing you” you admitted, immediately taking a sip of your beer after delivering your words. You were almost embarrassed at how fast your heart was beating.
He smugly smiled and looked you up and down.
“As friends?” he asked playfully, throwing his chin at you.
“Dunno, you?” you asked, mirroring his smile, putting your beer down on the floor too. You looked back at him and he shrugged.
“Well all I can tell you is I was drunk but I think I know what I was doing” he said with a single nod, pinching his lips into a small smile. “And I enjoyed it.”
“That’s good to know” you replied playfully, your gaze going back and forth between his lap and his face. “You’d do it again?”
“Do what?”
“Kiss me, idiot” you chuckled, planting your elbow against the back of the couch.
“Question or order?” he asked rhetorically, a smirk plastered on his face. You playfully hit his arm when you realized you had been tricked, and he nudged your side. “Answer the question”
Your face inched closer to his, and you tilted it slightly before answering. “Order” your voice was barely louder than a whisper.
His thumb and forefinger grasped your chin after your implied consent, and it took him a very short time to press his lips against yours once he was sure you both wanted it.
He kissed you and he knocked the air out of your lungs, your hands buried in his graying curls and his hands traveling up and down your curves.
You made out intensely, laying down on your couch, his body hovering over yours as he practically fucked his tongue into your mouth.
“If that wasn’t abundantly clear, not as friends, no” you panted against his slightly swollen lips once you pulled away for air.
“Good. Good choice” he said biting down on his bottom lip, laughing when you yanked his face down to kiss him again. He kneaded one of your breasts while his tongue plunged in your mouth, his thumb brushing against your hard nipple, and you moaned in his mouth as a result.
He pulled away from your mouth, his own shifting towards your ear.
“Hey I thought maybe we could make some use of that box under your bed. It’s not packed yet after all” he whispered, unable to cover the devilish grin on his face or the excitement in his voice.
And in his pants, too.
—
masterlist | taglist | ao3
triple frontier taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mystinky-butt @beccabecs521
#santiago garcia#santiago garcia x reader#santiago pope garcia#santiago pope garcia x reader#santiago garcia fanfiction#santiago garcia fic#santiago garcia fanfic#triple frontier#oscar isaac#oscar isaac characters
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Ahh it’s finally happened!! I am so grateful for each and every one of you who decided to follow. Honestly this blog started off as just a little creative output for the writing thoughts I had about the f1 boys but it turned into something much more!
Now to celebrate, my requests are open and here’s a list of asks that you can send through
💌 Ask Questions: ask me about any of my past or future fics, general f1 questions, or literally anything. I’d be happy to answer and chat.
📋 Prompt List: want to request a fic but no idea where to start? Here’s a few links to some prompt ideas. Please copy the scene/dialogue you’d like me to include.
Smut-1 Smut-2 FWB prompts
Angst Angst-2
Domestic fluff Fluff-2
Note: you don’t have to list a specific prompt from the links above if you already have a request idea. The links are just for some inspiration
🎧 Song Requests: choose a driver, a song, and if you want smut, fluff, or angst and I’ll write a short fic.
✍🏻 Drabbles: have a specific scene in mind but don’t want the excess plot? Send a drabble idea. These would usually be under 1k words.
Note: I will include the fics from this celebration in my main masterlist, however each celebration related post can be found under this tag; #di celebrates
Tagging mutuals: @girldunner @sinofwriting @chrisdr3 @changetyre @dilemmaontwolegs @leclerc-hs @maplesyrupsainz @sbdskate
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About Me/M. List
💜Amethyst is the name. (She/Her)
💜Playing it cool since 1989
💜I love about a billion different kinds of music, but this blog honestly is just a KPop worship station for me. You’ll see a lot of BTS, like A LOT, but also plenty more groups mixed in the stew.
💜I don’t like interacting with minors. I can’t stop them from finding and consuming my content, it’s the internet and it is what it is BUT I really don’t need nor do I want to know that they’re all up in my biz. So all I ask is that if you’re under 18, please don’t interact ✌🏼🫶🏼
💜I don’t plagiarize material and am very much not a fan. Every story listed below is mine, from my silly little brain, and I need you to respect that. Intellectual property is a thing, so please do not copy, repost, or translate my stories (as if you’d want to tbh🤭) as your own or without explicit permission. And honestly just don’t do it to anyone, because eventually someone will realize and then the internet will just tear your ass up and nobody wants that. Ick.
💜Despite those last two bullet points I’m actually really chill. I love to chat about pretty much anything but I am pretty introverted until I feel comfortable with someone, then it’s hard to shut me up 😂. So if we’re moots and you’re wondering why I’ve never reached out - it’s probably because I’m scared of you and think I’ll annoy you to no end. Maybe I’m not that chill actually 🤔😂😂😂
💜Requests? You can send them to me at any time, but I can’t promise I’ll write it. Still, it’s fun to read and create scenarios with one another so feel free to hash it out in my ask box or through DMs!!
💜Need a Beta Reader? Hi🙋🏻♀️ I’d be more than happy to read through and try and help you. Not to toot my own horn but I do have a dusty lil English Degree in a box somewhere and I used to work in the uni library and help edit term papers 💅 DM me anytime for help.
💜When I write random things that are on my mind, personal, non KPop or dessert related I use the tag “amethoughts” - if you have no interest in those thoughts then you can block that tag if you’d like to.
Masterlist
1. “If I Had Asked” — Jungkook x Gender Neutral Reader. Summary: Jungkook wants to catch up at a mutual friends birthday party. Genre: Romantic. Hurt. Comfort. Fluff. Exes to lovers. Oneshot. Rating: E for everyone babe. There’s some alcohol and marijuana but I mean, nothing weird or crazy happens.
2. “Hard to Handle” — Jungkook x Female Reader. Summary: You’re starting to want a little more from your FWB buddy. Genre: Romance. Smut. F2L. Oneshot. Rating: 18+.
3. “Imaginary Games” — Taehyung x Female Reader. Summary: The only thing that could make a destination wedding - in which you're the maid of honor, who has to give a speech in front of a crowd, who has to wear a dress that cost you a pretty penny that you'll never wear again - worse is the fact that your cheating ex is the best man. Genre: Romantic, Smut, Exes to Lovers, Smidge of Hurt. Oneshot. Rating 18+.
1. “Of Course, Professor” — Minho x Female Reader. Summary: The law professor everyone is scared of generously offers to help you with your school work. Genre: Smut. Romantic-ish. Basically just porn with a hint of plot tossed in. Oneshot. Rating 18+. [Bonus Drabble. Also 18+.]
2. “Safe.” - Hyunjin x Fem Reader x Minho. Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous. Genre: Crime. Romance. Drama. Mafia AU. Series. Rating: 18+ (MDNI).
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Tag Game: Writeblr Interview
Thanks @tildeathiwillwrite for the tag here!
I hesitate to tag as many people as this is one of those things where there’s no point in doing it twice but tagging:
@xenon-writes-sometimes, @rumeysawrites, @rivenantiqnerd, @leahnardo-da-veggie, @kaylinalexanderbooks, and an open tag!
This is going to be a long post so I’m adding a break here
Short stories, novels, or poems?
I cannot stand most poetry. Maybe it’s because I’m still in school and have to analyse it but I can’t deal with how abstract it can be. I want to write more short stories but my one and only WIP is probably gonna be closer to a novel, if and when I finish it.
What genre do you prefer reading?
Fantasy, especially high fantasy. Murder mysteries and detective stories in general are a close second. Most other genres are reserved for spin offs or fan fiction.
Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?
I make a plan that I then actively ignore my OCs force me to not use
What music do you listen to while writing?
Most of the time I listen to the one Reddit podcast I’ve listened to every episode of because I can zone out and I don’t miss anything important. This one is a bit of a bad habit because it distracts me, but EPIC the musical is my current hyperfixation and I listen to that constantly as well.
Favorite books/movies?
Because I have the reading comprehension of an 11 year old we have Murder Most Unladylike (I would die for this series), its spin off the Ministry of Unladylike Activity, The Hunger Games but only really the first book, How to train your dragon but only really the Netflix show and the first movie (the books are great but I haven’t read them in 7 or 8 years and because they’re so different from the movies I’m not sure if I’d like them anymore)
Any current WIPs?
Gold, Greed and Gods which is a vaguely Victorian fantasy about the main cast trying to find a cult before it engulfs the world in literal chaos. And also magical shenanigans and timeline fuckery
Create a character description of yourself:
Honestly I’d rather not. Sorry!
Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?
No it kinda weirds me out. The closest I’ll get is asking my one irl mutual about their experiences with stuff that I (as a someone who is cishet and perisex) do not understand
Are you kill happy with your characters?
I’m not the biggest fan of angst so no. If anyone was gonna die you aren’t allowed to get attached to them so I don’t get attached them hence why the only dead characters in my WIP die before or very soon after it begins. That isn’t to say my characters aren’t affected, but I can only imagine any potential readers will be neither here or there about those characters.
Coffee or Tea while writing?
I don’t really like hot drinks but I hate the smell of coffee so tea?
Slow or fast writer?
A secret third thing which is I wrote 5000 words in 3 hours yesterday so for atleast the next week I won’t be able to string a sentence together
If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?
A healer would be fun? I wanna be a doctor so I guess that’s close enough. I cannot imagine I’d survive very long without my glasses/ contacts in any case.
Most fav book cliche:
Not really a book cliche but horny bard memes will never not be funny. I also love juxtaposition between characters, if done tastefully, eg. Ray of sunshine is best friends/ dating the grumpiest character alive. I also just love ray of sunshine characters in general. Also, calm/ happy go lucky/ mentor figure characters who have really high body counts and it’s just kind of an open secret are really fun.
Least favorite cliche:
A lot of romance tropes are tied for last place: miscommunication, any reference or idea that firsts=better (virginity, first loves, one true love etc.), not like other girls
Also love triangles. The only good love triangles are the ones that end in polycules. No exceptions (/hj)
I probably just have a problem with like most romance stories
Favorite scene to write?
I love when characters reference unique worldbuilding things that I actually had to think about. Similarly, if I feel I’m doing them well, exposition dumps can be fun.
Reason for writing?
Because blirbos in my head yearn for freedom
On a more serious note, I’ve gotta do something healthy with all this escapism and maladaptive daydreaming.
—
Questions:
Short stories, novels, or poems?
What genre do you prefer reading?
Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?
What music do you listen to while writing?
Favorite books/movies?
Any current WIPs?
Create a character description of yourself:
Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?
Are you kill happy with your characters?
Coffee or Tea while writing?
Slow or fast writer?
If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?
Most fav book cliche:
Least favorite cliche:
Favorite scene to write?
Reason for writing?
—
Thanks again for the tag!
#This was fun!!#I didn’t expect that doing this would somehow curing my writers block a bit#writeblr#tag game#wip#writing#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity
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