#hopefully these will become drawings at some point
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enchantedchocolatebars · 15 hours ago
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Witte Solstice - Chapter 24
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Cover art by @leespinoodle.
Fic written by me (enchantedchocolatebars) and @leespinoodle.
Summary: It's winter in the Boiling Isles, and Caleb prepares to celebrate the solstice with his wife, his friends… and hopefully, with Beardo Philip! Philip swears he'll never partake in the satanic holidays of those demonic witches. But when Caleb invites him over for the solstice… maybe he'll find himself making an exception.
Ao3 version
"Yes," Philip hummed with great contentment as he set his feathered pen down.
The brunette began to examine his meticulously prepared plan that he had sketched out in his journal once more.
He was going to attend his brother's festive party, but not for the enjoyment of it.
He had a purpose for going.
And what was that purpose, exactly?
To prove a point.
As a small gag, the sketches on Philip's journal paper begin to be animated.
...
He'll arrive at his brother's cottage (Drawing Philip arrives at the cottage), and after knocking on the door (Drawing Philip knocks on the door), Caleb [hopefully] will answer it and allow him inside (Drawing Caleb answers the door and is elated to see his brother as he beckons him inside).
Once he's inside the cottage (Drawing Philip is now inside the cottage), he'll witness the witches partaking in their evil, degenerate Demon Realm traditions (Drawing Philip spots a pair of witches partaking in deviant holiday festivities and gasps in shock).
He'll show this to Caleb (Drawing Philip quickly rushes over to Drawing Caleb, who's happily talking to Drawing Evelyn and some of their guests, hastily grabbing his arm as he speeds over to the degenerate witches and shows them to him).
His brother will be so horrified and disgusted by this (Drawing Caleb lets out a gasp, horrified and disgusted by the heinous actions of the witches that he invited to his party), that he'll immediately end things with Evelyn (Drawing Caleb ends his relationship with Drawing Evelyn, causing her to whimper before she bursts out a waterfall of overexaggerated tears).
"Wahhh!!" Philip voices outside of the animation, mimicking crying for Evelyn as he chuckles.
Now with Caleb on his side, Philip and Caleb leave the party (Drawing Philip and Drawing Caleb leave the party together), but not before entrapping the witches who are inside the cottage and setting it on fire (Drawing Philip and Drawing Caleb entrap all of the witches who are inside the cottage).
(Drawing Caleb then pulls out his flask of fire oil and splashes it onto his now old house, setting it on fire.)
(After they smile at Caleb's handy work, as the witches inside the cottage scream out blood-curdling screams of pain while burning, the two walk away.)
The brothers will then go back to Philip's cave (Drawing Philip and Drawing Caleb go back to Philip's cave), and Philip will show off his portal to Caleb (Drawing Philip shows off his work in progress to Drawing Caleb, who's utterly amazed by it as his eyes sparkle).
They'll work on finishing the portal together, bonding while doing so (Drawing Philip and Drawing Caleb work on the portal and bond).
Once it's done, they'll enter it and return to Gravesfield (Drawing Philip and Drawing Caleb enter the completed portal together, and exit out of it in Gravesfield).
The two will then rejoice and hug each other as they return to their previous lives together.
Drawing Philip is pleased when Drawing Caleb finds a nice human woman to wed and supports the couple and their relationship.
Soon enough, he becomes an uncle.
...
After the animation ends, Philip continues to smile with confidence at his sketches.
His brother and their old lives would be restored on December 21st, and everything would finally be as it ought to be, without any witchcraft.
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crispyanonart · 9 months ago
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I know I only post art here but for future reference here are some Stardew Valley headcanons:
Sebastian and Maru actually have a good relationship because their parents shortcomings aren't their shortcomings, in fact Maru looks up to Seby a lot because he's an introvert like her but managed to have a tight friend group
Leah and Haley get lost in conversations about lighting and composition. When Leah arrived in town they didn't care for each other at first but ended up bonding over their artsy interests. Haley lets Leah use her dark room to do experiments, and secretly thinks she's effortlessly very cool
Maru doesn't really hang out with the others but Abigail saw her out of her nurse attire while visiting Sebastian and started being interested in her. Maru also noticed her and contrary to popular belief she's the one who started flirting first
Elliott loves to surprise Leah with stunning vegetarian charcuterie boards, they actually plan little pic nic dates around it, she brings the wine and they spend the evening on the lake dock
Harvey and Emily kind of fuss over Shane and his wellbeing, and he pretends to hate it but he's secretly very grateful for their friendship and sometimes feels like they (and the farmer lol) are the only people who didn't give up on him. Emily in particular likes to make dark jokes about his situation and she's the only one who gets the pass from Shane for it.
Sebastian spent years pining HARD after Sam and at some point he thought he was just envious of how easily he bonded with people and was liked by everyone.
Sam is very physical, he gives the biggest hugs to everyone but he specifically loves to push Sebastian's buttons to the limit. Actually, Sam has a hidden kind of sadistic side to him when it comes to sabotaging Lewis' plans and flustering Seby.
Penny is NOT a girl's girl, but she kind of gets dragged along to plans with the gals because ohana means family and not even the Pick Me© girl gets left behind
Emily managed to make Harvey try *magic* mushrooms once. He enjoyed the experience despite having tremendous anxiety about the whole thing, he found it scientifically interesting. He wouldn't do it again tho
Alex was so sure he had the biggest crush on Haley for all his teen years but in reality he just admired her femininity and her style. Haley didn't reciprocate but liked the attention because he actually never made a move towards her, so they had this comfortable situation that fit society standards. They started having an honest friendship only after Alex's coming out
Emily is the biggest fan of the Goblin Destroyers and she offers to sew special merch for them. Sam, Seb and Abby are so grateful for her support
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sweetandglovelyart · 4 months ago
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I’m going to try and post the next page of Knightfall in Dream Land at some point this weekend, sorry again for taking so long to post comic pages but fortunately this next one is almost done! I only have like two panels left to finish for it.
I also wanted to let everybody know that comic updates might become a little more infrequent than they already are over the next few months. I’m about to start my (hopefully) final year of grad school, so I’ve got to lock in and focus on finishing and successfully defending my dissertation so I can get my PhD by next summer. I’ll still be posting and I’ll still be coming on here, I just might not be as active because I’ll be working on my dissertation, going to conferences, and also searching for jobs so I’ll have something to do when I graduate. Thank you for being patient with my slow comic updates!
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untitledvik · 1 month ago
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okay not dead unfortunately, just super fucking tired.
why did nobody tell me peak fiction was back?
Arcane season 2 HELLO? WHEN THE HELL WAS THIS?! Can't wait to pull a little devious action Jean wouldn't be approved of because fuck Netflix
Also we're finally getting it. PEGGING IS BACK, IMMA LOSE IT. MU MIND. MY DARLING"HUSBAND" MSRK BERSKII. INGRID GRIMWALL MY BELOVED. DONT YOU DARE FIE OR YOULL SEE ME ON THE NEWS. florda man twink and buff southern woman save me
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They gonna die ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)
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snekdood · 6 months ago
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bitches prolly out here psychoanalyzing my old art on behalf of my abuser to cushion their belief that im a Horrible Person but then dont see the irony when I point out the shitty things my abuser has drawn and how I see it as clear evidence of their mindset and beliefs (of what's okay to do and how to treat people) descending and pairing that along with everything else they've done and it paints a clear picture of how this person got to the point of thinking it was okay to abuse me the way they did and then the people looking for reasons to hate me through my art will act like "they're just drawings !!!" about their art. which one is it. does someones art say something about them or not? or does it only say something about them if you hate them?
#personally I think me making fun of a douchey type of dude is less bad than drawing 'rape is fun' but yknow#ig I can just weigh the gravity of how bad each thing is accurately idk#vent#'yeah but you started to identify with the douche bag character !!' well- even before i realized I wanted to be him- the plot was#already that he was going to grow out of being a dick. him and mj were going to help eachother realize their flaws and become better#to eachother and everyone else. so by the time i DID realize I wanted to be a guy I already had in mind the mature version of him#floating around but I didn't really post about it bc I didn't want to spoil anything at the time#and it took me a LONG TIME to accept that I wanted to be snake. I was trans before that. and then when I was close to accepting it#I had that whole 'lsd' thing that made me slink back into my shell bc the people I was around made me feel like I would never be a guy#so instead I figured if I couldn't be snake then the next best thing was to be *with* him and started to self ship myself w him and he#evolved even more into an even more mature version of him that by the time I got out on the other side of feeling like I couldn't#be a guy I had this more serious and mature version of him in my mind and started to accept that I wanted to be him and basically was him#and just didn't know bc that version of snake was more like me than the one I made in 2013/14#in 2013/14 I was only ever considering my comic in the context of some sort of comedy and just wanted to make a douchey character#to make fun of bc I had a lot of douchey people in my life who I felt like needed to be knocked down a peg and I figured the best way#to do that was to make an example out of them via the old version of snake and have him be an overly confident asshole whos hubris#often gets himself humbled even if hes too prideful to accept or admit it#at this point in time I didn't really see much of myself in any of my ocs. maybe a lil bit in mj and (mostly)peaches bc I didn't know it wa#ok to id with a guy... but even when I did subconsciously id with him here n there...i didnt relate to snakes douchey-ness like at all.#sometimes I jokingly act like a douche but again its for the same reason that I made snake a douche back then in the first place-#to make fun of people like that- to hopefully show them how foolish they are by me mirroring them or. alternatively. making people#laugh at me acting that way because pretending to act like a douche is easier to enjoy and laugh at than dealing w an actual douche#i'd do it with my ex-bestfriend all the time- I made snake such a dick because we'd laugh about it together and bc we wanted to make#fun of the dicks around us who lacked any self awareness and if not that any actual fuck about how lame and shitty they come off#what can I say. it's fun to mock people sometimes.#when I actually started to accept it my first pic I drew of him being obviously trans was in 2016... soo a couple months before I remet#my abuser...#which honestly explains why that whole relationship was so rough on me. I had just finally accepted myself and then this person comes#along and tries to smear me and gaslight me into thinking im Horrible for who I am. like. hello???????#my first time fully being myself was with them and their friend group and they all accepted me until their cult leader told them not to
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critterbitter · 1 year ago
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It’s everybody’s favorite lantern! Ingo's partner pokemon's very chaos incorporated. Inspired by the very enthusiastic asks in my inbox, which I’ll be responding to under this cut ;0 Wanna see more? Check out this submas masterlist.
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@euos-the-cat AAA thank you! I took one look at that waxy gremlin and thought "huh. I can do something with this."
@eventhetiniestbugs Yo. YO. HEADCANNON ACCEPTED. Litwick really is sort of a beatrice, isn't she? Being Ingo (and in part, Emmet's) unwilling guide. Reluctant friend. Best found family.
@answrs Thanks!!! I love sneasler and I need to draw her more. It wasn't on purpose, but it seems I've accidentally wrote myself into a Sort Of chronological posting (oops!) But sneasler WILL appear later (hopefully BEFORE my hyperfixation fizzles out haha)
@raynavan AhHEhEHEHEH. I usually don't dabble with too much angst, but yeah. On the plus side, uh, more chandelure emmet interactions! On the down side, well.
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@blueisquitetired You learn to like rice. It's a staple in your diet, and while you may think its bland and boring, it becomes something you can always rely on during meal time when things get dicey. Or, well. It was.
@moothebloo ...DEFINITELY SAVING THAT FOR LATER. CHANDELURE ANGRY SHARPIE BROWS LETS GOO. (Idk if you're into rottmnt, but uh that's some donnie behaviors that I definitely approve of.)
@gender-nuteral-nut-boy First of all, amazing user name. you get all the gender. second of all (points at picture) she's doing finnee! She's doing So Great. Don't Worry About It. ((She has emmet, and later the gear station, and even later maybe even elesa. But Ingo's Hers, and that's a wound that can't be easily staunched.)) @ghostlykryptonitenight Ah,, you see, your first mistake is thinking she'll Remember. : )
Head cannon: ghost pokemon are not a direct reincarnation of a dead soul, and are more like… say, the mold that grows from a coffee mug left out for too long. But they have fragments of memories and dreams of cherished ones. Chandelure knows Ingo’s alive thanks to their bond. She vaguely knows her propagator probably knew Ingo’s identical great uncle or something. But those pieces don’t really connect until Emmet’s research, and she’s tired and faded and the simple act of trying hurts.
(She would leap through space and time for ingo. Chandelure and Emmet would do anything to get their muppet back, even if it means to salt the earth and unearth gods.)
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readychilledwine · 11 months ago
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hii!! i’m in love w your writing!!❤️❤️❤️ can i please request one where it’s azriel x reader. Feyre sees azriel wearing a ring on his left finger and asks,
” i’ve seen you wear that ring forever azriel, what does it mean? ”
” it’s my wedding ring ”
and her jaw drops bc she didn’t know he even had a lover.
” who is she? do i know her? what is she like? ”
he smiles faintly and says
” her name is y/n, she’s my mate and wife and she isn’t a warrior like us, she works at a library downtown. you don’t know her, only rhys and cassian do. we have a house in the outskirts in velaris. she is very sweet and i love her more than anything, our daughter is- ”
” YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER ????? ”
he nods and tells them all about her, he asks if feyre wants to meet reader and their daughter and feyre smiles and nods. He asks reader in the mating bond if it’s okay to bring her, nyx, rhys and cassian to dinner. reader says yes and azriel tells feyre he’ll pick them all up tonight before leaving to help his wife prepare. Reader meets feyre and become friends instantly, nyx and their daughter become friends aswell.
” how did i not know this?? this makes so much sense now. How he never sleeps here and he’s gone for days sometimes but not on missions. ” feyre asks rhysand.
”don’t worry i didn’t know for a long time either, Az is a very private person, he is extremely protective of his family. i’m glad he told me at all. either way he’s still a mystery sometimes, i learn new things about him all the time and i’ve known him for over 500 years” rhys says and laughs knowing your perfect for his brother 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️😭🥹😍
Haven
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Warnings - none
A/n - I played with this for a while, rewrote it several times, and then made something that met in the middle of what came to mind, but still stuck with the request. Hopefully, you love it, dear 💜
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Feyre had been in Velaris for 5 years. 5 long years and she had yet to figure out why Azriel kept a simple black band on his left ring finger at all times.
The two of them were on the couch, Rhys across from them, as they looked over maps of a few of the Illyrian Camps that had been recently renovated. The new cabins, mess halls, and dorms were a huge success, and figuring out the same layout for the remaining few was a huge topic of interest for the three smaller camps.
She glanced at the ring one more time before tapping it. Rhys and Azriel both looked at her, brows raised. "So, not magic," she muttered to herself. She tried spell cleaving it, "And not a ward or shield."
Azriel blinked at her, brows knit in silent question. Rhys had his hand over his mouth, hiding his amusement. Leave it to his wife to provide entertainment without knowing it was needed. "I-" she sighed. "You wear this ring all the time. I'm trying to figure out why."
Both of the males chuckled. "Probably the same reason you wear your wedding ring, Feyre Darling."
The High Lady made face, tapping the ring again. "Don't be ridiculous, Rhys. I would know if Azriel was married."
"Evidently not, my love."
Feyre and Azriel held eye contact, the male then going back to the maps. "Since I have extensive time in Steppes Peak, I think it would be easiest to move the mess hall here, at the base of the mountain, maintain the warroom in the carved out cave, and build better dorms here," he pointed to an empty part of the map.
Rhys nodded, drawing it out on the empty map he had. "I'm sure y/n will agree with whatever you say."
"Okay, stop." Feyre crossed her arms, pouting slightly at the two of them. "Azriel isn't married, and making up some name to make me feel stupid isn't kind."
Azriel sighed. He leaned back while dropping the scent ward he kept on himself at all times. He watched as her face fell. He knew his scent, chilled air and cedar, was the predominant one in the mateship, but now a soft floral scent, something like lavender and warm honey clung there softly.
"I've been married for longer than you have been alive, Fey." Azriel patted her hand. "I have a daughter older than you and another younger than Nyx."
He watched as her face fell, a small amount of hurt flashing across it. "Why didn't you tell me?" She paused, looking at the sleeping heir in his craddle. "We could be having play dates. I could have a friend who understands."
Guilt settled into his face as he pulled her into him. "I torture people for living, sweet sister. I execute people on your orders. I imprison people with a flick of your wrist." He tilted Feyre's head up. "Y/n has no combat training and refused to learn. She likes to sit at home writing poetry, baking, and cuddling our children. I do not bring her around or introduce them to anyone to keep them safe." His face held the ghost of a rare smile. "I think I've brought her to meet Rhys and Cassian once."
Rhys nodded. "I've met her once here and several times behind your back in town. Especially after my first niece was born."
Feyre kept her gaze on Nyx. "He could have a friend," her voice was distant.
Azriel stood, placing a kiss on her forehead as he did. "I'll be right back." Rhysand's smile grew wide. Folding the maps and putting them away. He moved to the liquor cabinet, bringing down one of his more expensive wines.
Azriel reappeared with you and both daughters in tow. Your oldest ran to Rhys, jumping on him and holding him tightly, her wings fluttering with joy as she did. "Hello, Amara," he nuzzled into her hair. "Missed you so much, baby girl. Cassian is on his way."
He walked with her in his arms to the table, setting the wine down and then carried her over to Feyre. "Would you like to meet your aunt?" She allowed Rhys to set her down and turned toward Feyre.
There was little question she was Azriel's. She was the beautiful artists dreamed of painting. Soft classic features framed with inky black hair that fell in gorgeous curls. "Feyre, this is our niece Amara. She's 56. She was my favorite suprise when I got home from the mountain."
She smiled shyly, keeping close to Rhysand. "Hi."
"Hi," Feyre didn't know what came over her, pulling the Illyrian female close to her and holding her. "I'm so excited to meet you."
Amara wrapped her arms around Feyre, returning the gesture. "Me too. Mom and I have been BEGGING dad for a while. But you know how the bats are."
The door slammed open, rushed loud footsteps and a panting filling the hall. "Where's my baby?!"
Amara pulled away from Feyre, smiling softly before moving away from all of them. She was rushed by Cassian, lifted up into his arms as he spun her.
Feyre looked to her side, noticing Azriel next to her, holding a swaddled bundle. "This is Iris. She's a month younger than Nyx." Azriel wouldn't look away from his daughter and her peaceful sleeping face. "I fear the day she loses her chipmunk cheeks."
Feyre looked around the room, trying to find the reason this was happening and felt her heart shift when she saw you, arm wrapped around Rhysand's bicep, looking at Nyx.
You were wingless, long dark hair braided back. Soft leggings and a sweater that was a few sizes too big covering your frame. Cassian had moved next to you, bumping you with his arm and smiling down at you. "He's so beautiful," your voice was a melody, a soft echo that brought calm to the room. "And so sweet. Look at those rosy cheeks."
Rhysand pulled you away, moving you back to Feyre. He handed you to Azriel, arms out expectedly. "Don't make me command it."
The shadowsinger placed his youngest in Rhysand's arms, hands shaking despite the trust between them, "Be careful with her. Please." Rhys nodded, moving over to Cassian. "Feyre, this is y/n, my wife and mat-"
Feyre didn't allow him to finish, hugging you instantly, tears lining her eyes as she did. "Please tell me we can be friends and cry about our babies together."
"I didn't realize that would even be a question. Of course we will be friends, and of course we will cry about all of the things. Our mates don't get it. Cassian, though, Cassian will join us."
The warlord stuck one finger in your direction. "Let me love them in peace, y/n."
You leaned into Feyre, "Has he cried while holding Nyx yet?"
She nodded. "Oh yeah. Big illyrian baby."
"The worst, aren't they? Rhysand, did you want me to make dinner?"
The High lord looked at Azriel, a small look of guilt on his face, "Please."
You squeezed Feyre's arm, kissing Azriel as you moved towards the kitchen. "You know where to find me if she needs me." He nodded.
Azriel moved to Cassian, watching like a hawk as the general snuggled the small babe in his arms. Amara was sitting by Nyx a look of love and adoration on her face as she sighed.
"She's perfect for Azriel in every way," Rhys stroked Feyre's hand. "I was nervous at first too when he brought her home. I was even more nervous when his fears manifested in the form of being deeply private with her. But she is perfect for him."
Feyre nodded, watching as Azriel glared as Cassian due to the loud squeak his baby had just let out.
"His girls are beautiful." Rhys hummed in agreement. "Y/n is beautiful."
Feyre moved to Amara's side, sitting next to her and smiling as her niece started asking questions.
She didn't realize it until now, but this was the missing piece. The part of the puzzle that had sat empty despite every thing around it being done. You and your girls were that lost center.
Now she just had to convince Azriel to keep bringing you around.
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General tag list:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers
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cj-the-random-artist · 1 month ago
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Have a Bishops + Lambert height chart and some bonus sketches (including a lot of Kallamar because for some reason he's become one of those characters for me who is unreasonably hard but also weirdly fun to doodle), hopefully I will have more comics soon I have a handful of comic WIPs and an ungodly amount of comic scripts that I might finish but equally I also might not, so maybe this'll be good for a while lol. I have also made some like references for the follower forms for the Bishops so I have a good reference for drawing them but idk if I'm gonna post them cuz I'm not super happy with any of them... we'll see...??
Tbh idk if I'm gonna tag all these?? Cuz like. Roughly half the canon COTL characters are in this array of doodles so maybe I'll just tag the Bishops and the Goat and Lambert and call it a day tbh,,, But have some Untitled QPR Narilamb Au (maybe I should just call it that at this point...) doodles, and may y'all have lovely days / nights
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miguxadraws · 10 months ago
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Hello, I hope you don't mind me asking, but I love your art style so much, and the way you draw Ragatha!!!
Would it be okay if I asked you for advice on how to draw Ragatha's hair?
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Thank you!
It's perfectly fine to ask me for advice, but just so you know, I'm not the best at explaining my art processes tbh. I've never done an art tutorial or anything similar to that.
However, I tried making a small guide here on how to draw Ragatha's hair - well, how I draw it at least. It's sort of a rough sketch, but hopefully it'll be useful for you!
First off, I'd like to point out that when I began drawing her character, I used one of her official 2D artworks as reference to draw her hair, not her 3D model!
To be more specific, I used this one:
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Another important thing to take into consideration is THE VOLUME her hair has.
If you have curly hair and it's long enough, you might know that to make it have that sweet sweet volume, you gotta style it in LAYERS! The same applies to Ragatha here, which you can actually see in the image above! If you wanna make her hair look voluminous, you need to draw it in layers (Assuming you'll be drawing it similarly to how it looks in canon - like dreadlocks)
Anyways, now onto the process!
1st step - Bangs
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When drawing her hair, I will always start by drawing her bangs first. It helps me sort out where the other locks will be going for the most part.
I will always start by drawing the 4 locks that go on top of her forehead. The two in the middle will always be shorter than the ones on the sides, but that's just my preference.
Once that's done, I do the longer locks that go down along the sides of her face.
2nd step - Locks on top + bow
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Bow is not mandatory, but I must admit it does make my life easier when i'm drawing her, because then i'll always know where to put the two locks she's got on top of her head - that being right where the bow begins - behind it.
3rd step - Superficial layer!
Once you get the two higher locks and the bangs done, this step becomes way easier. You just gotta fill the gap between them.
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I'll normally draw 3 on each side, but of course that will depend on the thickness of the dreadlocks you're drawing. It's overall pretty simple.
I like making these 3 locks more droopy than the other 2 coming from behind the bow, but that's also just my own preference.
4th step - Secondary layer
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As you can see in the two examples in the center, the shorter locks on top will sort of flow in the same way as the 2 smaller bangs in her front. They go up, then down.
The longer ones that go behind her neck will just go straight down since they're longer and therefore heavier, just like the two long locks on each side of her face.
Clean up + fixing asymmetry
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In the top left example, some of the locks were asymmetrical, so I fixed that after cleaning up the sketch. Mistakes like these tend to be very noticeable once you clean things up, so try keeping each side as symmetrical as you can to one another, especially if you're drawing her front view.
Anyway, that's pretty much it for my process! I feel like I could've elaborated a bit more and made this more organized, but at the same time I kind of have no idea what to do lol sorry
Still, I hope this helps you out somehow!
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foxcantswim · 1 year ago
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FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader x Vanny [Mine, Yours, Ours] 18+ Smut
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(gif by me)
Vanessa gets jealous, so she decides to let Vanny handle things. Content: SMUT, Top!Vanny, Bot!Vanessa, Switch!Reader, Love Confessions, First Kiss Warnings: SMUT, Blood, Murder (cute killer vanny uwu), Split Personality WC: 2,956
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Vanessa had been gritting her teeth for the past hour. You had invited her out to a bar along with a few of your friends, you were on the night shift for the entirety of the last week and you wanted to spend some time with her and your other friends. Vanessa was more than happy to agree, she hadn't been out in so long. The only problem she had with being out was her other self: Vanny. She was always so worried about the psychotic murderer making an appearance, but she took a deep breath and told herself nothing would happen tonight. Hopefully.
Watching you from across the room was painful as a couple guys had offered to buy you drinks, and of course you had agreed to one of them finally. Vanessa hadn't admitted it to you yet, but she had fell hard for you way back when you started working at Freddy's. The only thing holding her back was Vanny. You knew about her other personality of course, but she didn't want to put you through her problems. Her heart ached whenever she was near you and it was becoming increasingly harder to resist her own feelings.
Vanessa was indeed surprised that you wanted to get to know and understand Vanny, but she had been resistant to let you.
Vanny had fell for you hard, too. The crazed woman would do literally anything for you at this point. Vanessa knew Vanny would stalk you and ensure your safety if she let her, but she managed to hold Vanny back from becoming too obsessed.
The smile on your face as some alcohol-fuelled guy leaned against the bar next to you was clear, making Vanessa grip her drink harder.
"Hey pretty lady-" some guy decided to take a chance with Vanessa.
"Get lost," her voice was dark and loud, a lot more mean than she intended. She knew Vanny was trying to surface.
The guy scoffed before walking away.
Vanessa shook her head, quickly trying to get rid of Vanny's impending appearance. She felt her hands shake, slowly starting to lose control of herself.
When the random idiot placed a hand on your arm and handed you another drink, Vanessa froze. Her heartrate had picked up and her breathing was heavy.
Come on, Nessy.
The voice in her head teased. She shook her head again.
Y/N is ours.
The voice was angry. Vanessa could feel Vanny's possessiveness flow throughout her, she would be lying if she said she didn't want you to be hers too.
Mine. Yours. Ours.
She bit her lip hard, almost drawing blood. Vanessa muttered to herself, "Get rid of him," she couldn't quite believe her own words, she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold Vanny back for much longer. She would much rather have her other self deal with this anyways.
A glitched out laugh flooded her head before she snapped her eyes shut.
The blonde's hand gripped the glass harder before quickly downing the drink in one go.
Vanny grimaced at the taste, she would never know how her other self could drink something like this. She slammed the glass onto the table, a single crack forming up the side of it from the sheer force.
She stood up and started to make her way towards you. An annoying man had stopped her in her tracks and drunkenly asked her to come back to his place. If Vanny wasn't so focused on getting to you, that man would've died right on the spot. She instead gave him a harsh shove, causing him to fall into another man. Of course they were both drunk and started to brawl it out. Vanny smirked in response before focusing back on you.
"Sooo... Wanna get out of here, or-?"
Vanny grabbed the guy and pulled him away from you, her ears burned at the words she had just heard him utter to you.
"Oh! Hey, Nessy!" you smiled at her, you were concerned about why she was being handsy with the guy, "Nessy, this is-"
Vanny cut you off, "I don't care," a growl left her lips before she gripped the man's collar and dragged him away.
"H-Hey! Wait-!" you exclaimed, quickly following her. You were slightly taken aback by the way Vanessa spoke to you... Crowds of people slowed you down as you made your way through the bar.
The blonde had moved past the brawl she had previously caused, security were too busy focusing on them to even notice her forcefully dragging the man out of the back door.
"If you wanted a piece of me, you should've just asked," he smirked before winking at Vanny as they made it to the dark alleyway, "Maybe you're little friend will like to join us." He moved to pin Vanny to the dirty wall.
Vanny couldn't even believe the audacity of this guy. She shoved him away, his back hit the opposite wall hard.
"You really believe I'd want someone like you?" she said, a sinister look in her eyes, "Don't ever touch Y/N again," she warned.
He laughed in her face, "Oh really? And what are you gonna do about it? I think she realllllly likes me. Gonna take her back to my apartment whether you like it or not."
Without warning, Vanny reached down towards the floor and picked up an old discarded glass bottle. She smashed it against the wall next to the man's head, shattering it. She grabbed a single shard, blood flowing down her fingers - but of course she didn't care.
"Y-You aren't serious," the man stuttered in disbelief, "Get the fuck away from me you crazy-!"
A satisfied sigh left Vanny as she drove the glass shard deep into the man's stomach, he immediately tried to punch and kick her, "I love it when they struggle," she simply smiled at him, "Y/N is mine."
The man gasped under her grip, trying to push her away. Vanny wasn't about to let him leave as she twisted the glass, going as deep as she could.
"Vanessa!" a shocked gasp sounded from behind her.
Vanny forcefully withdrew the glass before throwing it into the nearby dumpster. She stepped away, the man crumpled to the floor grasping at his wound to stop the bleeding. Vanny was sometimes glad that her other self was a cop... It would be easy to cover this up. The force would believe her when she claimed it as self defence.
The amount of blood pooling on the floor was confirmation enough for Vanny that he would indeed die right here. She always made sure her victims were sure to pass.
Tears flooded into your eyes and you took a step back, "W-Why-?"
Vanny turned to you and wasted no time in walking over, her hand grabbed your jaw possessively, "You're mine," she didn't care that she was smearing blood across your chin.
You gulped, unsure as to whether or you not you should be scared, "V-Vanny?" you whispered, slowly realising that this wasn't Vanessa.
Without warning, Vanny lunged forward to capture your lips with hers in a bruising and needy kiss.
"Nobody gets to look at you like that again," Vanny warned, "I'd kill anyone for you, Y/N," her lips moved down to your neck, her teeth immediately piercing your skin to claim you, "Mine."
"V-Van-" your breathing picked up, fear and arousal were flooding through you. Vanny briefly stepped away to head back over to the unconscious body and shove it behind a bin to hide it.
"She loves you so much. So do I," Vanny confirmed as she looked back at you, "She's too scared to tell you. But I'm not."
Vanny grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the alley, the blood on her fingers was wet against yours, "What about-?" your eyes glanced over at the bin.
"Shhh..." Vanny hushed you, "Vanessa will deal with it later," she wasted no time in dragging you over to Vanessa's cop car at the back of the parking lot. She opened the back door and you hopped in without questioning what her motives were here.
You were soon pinned down to the backseat, the blonde above you grinding her knee down against your core.
"I didn't know you felt the same way," you whispered, threading your hands through her messy blonde hair bringing her down into a kiss.
"We have for a long time," Vanny groaned, her hands sliding down the sides of your body. Her fingers started to play with the hem of your pants, but you quickly froze and shook your head to escape from the kiss.
"W-Wait! The blood!" you really weren't into getting blood all over you, you needed her to somehow clean up.
Rolling her eyes, Vanny leaned over into the front seat. She knew that Vanessa kept some wipes in the side door somewhere.
Eventually, the blonde was back on top of you. Dirty wet wipes were thrown into the front seat.
She helped you remove your pants and your shirt, drooling as she eyed your body under the dim light of some nearby lamp posts.
You would be lying if you said you weren't scared. Vanny had literally just murdered somebody minutes before... But deep down you knew she couldn't help it. You knew that this was just a psychotic personality that she couldn't control. Thankfully, the lust and arousal was much greater than fear. You needed her. You needed them both. Now.
"Our little bunny," Vanny groaned before ripping your bra and tossing it to the front of the car.
"Nessy- Vanny-," you mumbled as Vanny's hands played with your chest, her fingers rolled your nipples as she leaned down to shove her tongue into your mouth. You moaned under her touch as one of her hands trailed down your stomach. A whimper escaped you as you bucked your hips up into her hand as her fingers found your swollen clit underneath your panties.
"Already so wet..."
She moved her head down to take a nipple into her mouth, her tongue circling around it eliciting various moans from you. She hummed against your skin before prodding your entrance with her fingers.
"Mine," Vanny had said numerous times as she pushed a finger into your throbbing pussy. Feeling how tight you are was making her crazy. She took it slow at first, gathering your wetness around her finger.
Your hands gripped Vanny's blonde hair as you grinded your hips as much as you could in the cramped space, craving more friction.
"Vanessa, please-!" Vanny growled upon hearing her other self's name.
Another finger was soon added as she dragged them across your sweet spot.
"Fuck, Y/N," she bit your nipple lightly, "You're just as fucked up as me. All wet and needy even though I just killed a poor man..." she teased looking up at your face, she captured your lips with hers again.
All you could do was whimper as she pumped her fingers faster, adding another along the way. Her thumb brushed against your clit, drawing small circles.
"V-Vanny!" you called her name, the blonde purred in appreciation.
"Does my little bunny want to come for me? For us?" she cooed before peppering kisses along your jaw, scraping her teeth against your skin. Her mouth found your pulse point and sucked hard. Her fingers moved faster and harder, almost animalistic.
You nodded frantically, "Y-Yes! I-!"
She pressed her fingers to the sweet spot inside you and rubbed your clit faster. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the tightness inside you snapped, your orgasm washed over you. You shivered under her touch with a final moan, throwing your head back against the seat.
"Good girl... Good bunny..." she continued to move her fingers in and out slowly, prolonging your orgasm as best she could, "All mine..."
You whimpered when she finally removed her fingers, you already missed the feeling of being so full. Your hands clawed at her clothed arms as she brough a finger to her mouth, she was desperate to taste you as her mouth closed around her finger. She moaned at the taste before releasing her finger with a pop.
Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the car was extremely hot and the windows were completely steamed.
Vanny continued to lick up and down your neck, humming at the mixed taste of your wetness and the salty sweat.
"You think it's Vanessa's turn now?" she grinned into your neck, "Wouldn't want her to miss out on you..."
Your thighs shook and your pussy clenched around nothing, already desperate for Vanessa to take over, "Please..." you agreed.
She kissed you once more.
The blonde soon collapsed on top of you, her body pinning you harshly down onto the seat.
You couldn't help but groan at the contact.
"Y-Y/N-?" Vanessa... Her voice was soft and confused.
"Nessy," you sighed in relief.
"What-?"
Her confusion was soon replaced by arousal as you managed to flip her over, hovering above her. Her face soon reddened as she realised that you were very much naked on top of her right now.
"Vanny told me how you feel. I feel the same way," you smiled leaning down to give her a short but sweet kiss, "I want to show you how much I love you, Vanessa."
This definitely wasn't what Vanessa was expecting to wake up to... This was a huge shock. But she would definitely have to thank her other personality for this later.
She was at a loss for words, completely surprised that you had these feelings, especially after seeing you with that guy in the bar...
You muttered, "I would've never gone with him... It's always been you."
Finally, you removed Vanessa's clothes. Your jaw dropped upon seeing her body after waiting for so long.
"So beautiful, Nessy," you muttered, pressing soft kisses to her neck. Vanessa's arms came up to wrap around you, pulling you closer.
You wasted no time in gently rubbing your fingers up and down her folds, your own arousal was already starting to grow again as you felt how wet she was.
"Vanny was so good to me," you groaned, "But I want you more," you reassured her.
Vanessa whimpered at your words, her nails scraping down your back as your fingers finally grazed her clit. You searched her eyes, asking for permission as your fingers brushed her entrance. She nodded without hesitation, tensing once you inserted two fingers.
You couldn't help but moan and the wet heat.
Vanessa pulled you back down for a soft kiss and you began to pump your fingers slowly, enjoying her small moans and whimpers she let out.
You guessed that Vanny's arousal had affected Vanessa heavily and quickly as she couldn't stop herself from humping up into your hand. Your palm passed over her clit causing her thighs to shake as her impending orgasm built up inside her.
"Please, Y/N," she gasped, throwing her head back.
You dragged your fingers against her sweet spot, coaxing the orgasm out of her, "Come for me, 'Nessa," you pleaded as your mouth found her left breast, teeth scraping over her nipple. A loud and long moan left Vanessa's mouth as she clenched around your fingers. She held the back of your head against her firmly, pressing her chest up towards you - needing you.
"Fuck, Y/N- I'm coming-!" her voice was cut off by a satisfied groan as her orgasm washed over her, she continued to grind into your hand with need as you dragged out her orgasm.
"That's it... Good girl, Nessy," you praised her, kissing her collarbone sweetly.
She shivered under your touch as you slowly removed your fingers, you bit your lips upon seeing just how wet she had made them. Vanessa gulped as her blush reddened even more upon seeing you lick your fingers clean.
You and Vanessa laid there basking in each others presence, smiling into the small kisses you were exchanging.
Finally, you pulled away from each other to catch your breaths.
Vanessa cleared her throat, awkwardly, turning away from you, "That was... something," she bit her lip.
You laughed slightly, "Yeah..."
Vanessa's hand came up to rest on your jaw, her thumb rubbing your cheek, "I'm sorry I never told you how I felt, Y/N... I-I don't know what Vanny did but I can only apologise for whatever it was."
"It's fine. I'll tell you later," you weren't really prepared to talk about it just yet...
A smug smile appeared on her face, "You love me, hmm?" she teased.
"Oh shut up. You told me first- Well Vanny told me first... But still..."
She brought you down for a kiss, "She's right. I love you, Y/N. I was just so scared of getting you involved with Vanny."
"I'll manage," you tried to convince yourself, "I either have you both or neither. I want both of you Nessy. I love you both."
She nodded, tears filling her eyes at the thought of someone finally wanting to get to know her and accept her other self.
She really hated Vanny. She really did. But just for tonight, she loved her to bits.
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Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp ; @emiliaisdead ; @natashas-whore ; @danveration
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spookysweaterblog · 1 year ago
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end?
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I absolutely love sharing my art on here and creating funny doodles to make people laugh. I love receiving asks, even the questionable ones, just seeing the inbox notification gets me excited to see what someone said.
During some of my lowest moments, this blog has been a huge comfort for me. At the start of my drawing journey, just being on tumblr and on this blog inspired me so much and gave me SO much confidence. I don't think you know the extent of how much the interactions and comments and encouraging messages have made me who I am. They're what kept me going honestly. To my own fault, at this point I feel like it's become a crutch for me... Lately I've been using this blog in particular as a distraction for how downhill my life's going. I don't know what I'm doing with my life, and I really need to get it together.
From this point forward I'm stepping out of fandom I think... at least till I get my life together. Who knows when that's going to be? ugh
My plan is to start putting energy into personal projects for the stuff I always wanted to create, so I'll probably use this blog to update you guys what I'm planning on doing when I get to that point.
Once I'm finished with other fan project blog stuff and wrapped them up, I think that's going to be it. I'll still do posts on my Patreon, (the normal posts I do, and also patreon commissions), I'll still do some YouTube videos like I do once in a blue moon, and I'll do the occasional post on twitter because the whole reason I got that was to get connections.
This isn't an end.... but it's like? An end to my fandoms? If that makes sense? I'm not saying it's a break because I'm not going to promise I'm coming back. idk... I honestly don't want to let it go and it sucks so much, but I need to. I'm getting things in order... Hopefully I wrote this out well, if it's weirdly written uhhhhh, no its not ❤️
I really do appreciate all the years on here, they were some of the happiest for me.
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discordantwritings · 10 months ago
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Captain’s Orders (Buggy x Reader)
Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, angst, Buggy is bad at feelings, canon typical violence, oral, PiV sex, creampie
WC: 8.4k
Summary: Getting a job as the chronicler of the Buggy pirates was the best, then worst, then best thing that ever happened to you.
Notes: The second I realized I hadn’t done a solo buggy fic I wrote this I’m so sorry buggy
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No one tells you how hard it is to keep a job on a pirate ship. Unless you manage to land with a big name captain the chances your job sinks to the bottom of the sea is pretty high. Which is what happened to your last three jobs- you were so tired of ending up on a dingy paddling away from a lost battle that you had no say in. You were a chronicler after all- not exactly a fighting pirate.
Despite being a non-essential crew member a chronicler was a sought after person. Every pirate thinks they are going to be the one to find the One Piece so, naturally, every pirate needs to have someone to log their journey to becoming king of the pirates. It was a little tiring, hearing the same story over and over again, writing the same few chapters only to end up waterlogged and searching for a new ship at the end.
But you needed to eat and you could only afford to live at this tavern for so long. You’d posted your services on the local board, listing your name and where you were staying in hopes of drawing in a pirate captain. One that hopefully won’t be going under in less than a month. And if you were really lucky- one that wasn’t so painfully textbook.
Really you should have known the gods were going to get you for wishing that.
When the clowns first walk into the tavern you wonder if you missed some signage that a carnival was coming into town. But when a distinctly dressed blue haired pirate captain walks in behind them- you put it all together. The Buggy Pirates were docked here. Their chronicler probably had their hands full but at least it wasn’t the same boring-
You notice when the barkeep points Buggy the Clown in your direction. The two of you make eye contact across the room and you quickly run through your memory to try and figure out what you could have possibly done to be hunted down by a big name pirate. As his heavy boots thud against the wooden floors you can’t think of a single time you’ve even brushed shoulders with any clowns let alone pirate ones. As Buggy looms over your table you frantically try and think of a way out of whatever sorry situation you’ve accidentally gotten yourself into only for that hurried train of thought to be abruptly derailed.
“You the chronicler who has that ad posted?”
It takes you probably too long to respond with a squeaky- “Yes?”
“Great!” The clown takes the chair next to you and sits down, quickly putting his feet up on the table. “Do you have examples of a resume or whatever?”
“You don’t already have a chronicler?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying more stupid things.
“Nope.” He shrugs and you see the rest of his crew settle in around the tavern.
“Oh. Well-“ You reach off to your side and take out a leather bound journal that has some of your work plastered in it. “Here’s some snippets.”
As you hand it over to Buggy you feel as his sea green eyes rake over you for a few moments before he finally takes the book. He flips to the first page, looks at it for maybe all of two seconds before snapping it shut. “How would you write about me?”
Then why did he even- “Well I think- see people sometimes assume a chronicler only writes down the basic facts are events but I think a real chronicler tells a story that the average person didn’t get to see or hear about. For example a lot of people heard about the Straw Hats taking you out at Orange Town-“
He sits up a bit, gaze hardening but you quickly continue. “But- I think there’s a different story there! They fought the fishmen so soon after your encounter with them and it’s no secret that the Arlong Crew was pushing their luck in the East Blue. So the story there should really be about how you used your genius to let the Straw Hats go and sent the Arlong Crew after them- letting your opponents fight it out and weaken each other.”
There’s a long pause where you feel the clown practically searing holes into your skin with his gaze until he finally breaks into a smile that rivals the one painted on his face. “That’s exactly it! You get it! People just need to hear the right side of the story! Start writing that down. That'll be your first entry as our chronicler.”
That is probably the most presumptuous way you’ve ever been offered a job but you certainly were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Great!”
It’s only after Buggy then orders a round of drinks in celebration and the cheering begins that you realize something.
“I don’t have to wear a clown costume do I?”
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You didn’t have to wear a clown costume but already in the few weeks you’ve been a member of the Buggy Pirates your wardrobe had gotten more colorful. A sequin scarf here- a bright blue shirt there- these things just landed in your bunk and it did help you fit in. You minded it less than you thought you would, being in a crew that actually put thought into how they looked was a pleasant change.
You tied a striped sash around your waist over your pants as you prepared to have your nightly debriefing with your new captain. During the day you flitted about the ship, taking notes on everything that happens. Every night though Buggy always wanted a check in. From letting him know what happened while he was doing other duties, to telling you some previous journeys that he and his crew had been, to embellishing the stories of the day.
It was nice having a captain who actually cared about what you were writing. Most had just left you to your own devices and didn’t much care for your craft beyond the fact it made them look good. But Buggy actually wants to listen to your words and he provides some actual good feedback (admittedly in a sea of crazy unbelievable ideas, but the point still stands).
Journals and pens tucked under your arms you navigate to the captain’s quarters, finally feeling comfortable navigating the large ship after walking this route twice a day. It’s not that long before you’re knocking on the large door and hear Buggy’s voice, muffled through the wood.
“C’mon in.”
You push through the door and see Buggy behind his desk, face laying sideways on a pile of paper. You take a seat across from him.
“You alright?” You ask, eyebrow raised.
“Being a captain is not all fun and games my dearest chronicler.” He pushes back on the desk, flopping back in his large seat and swinging his feet up on the desk, knocking over the papers in the process. “Responsibility is a heavy burden to bear.”
You look over the mounds of untouched paper work that have been sitting there since you first arrived. “Seems like it.”
“But now you are here to save me. Tell me my story weaver- what is the tale of the day.” When he looks at you you know you have his undivided attention. There was something so fulfilling about capturing his attention, something you’ve learned is so finicky and flighty. But for you? He’s never been distracted.
“Well, it’s been a pretty standard day.” You go into every detail that matters- what acts were practiced, who's flirting with who, what crew member Richie managed to bite a finger off of- that kind of stuff.
“You know- we should have a whole section where we track body parts Richie has eaten and see how many full people can be put together with the parts.” Buggy adds as you finish up your recap and you huff a laugh as you write that down.
“I think we’ll have a lot of spare fingers.” You point out.
“Good point. Full bodies and hands.” Slightly more sensible… kind of.
“Got it. I’ll start logging and asking around for people who have lost limbs to Richie.” You make the note and you see out of the edges of your vision as Buggy’s legs come off the desk and he leans over, getting a bit closer to you.
“Y’know I’ve told you many stories already- what about you?” His head settles in his hands, perched up by his elbows.
“What do you mean what about me?” You tilt your head, genuinely confused.
“Your stories! You said you were the chronicler for a few ships before mine, you must have had some adventures out on the great wide East Blue.”
“Ah, well… no.” You admit a bit awkwardly.
“No?” Buggy raises his eyebrows, clearly looking for more.
“I was just a chronicler. I didn't really do anything on the previous ships I worked on. Hell, you’re the first captain who actually wants to hear about what I’m writing. For everyone else it was just an ego trip to have someone writing for them…” Your pen slips into your journal as a placeholder as you close it and pull it close to your lap.
“That’s…” Buggy frowns. “What losers! Most pirates won’t know talent if it slaps them in the face.”
You try to bite back your smile but it’s pretty ineffective. “You’re very kind captain.”
“You’re going to have to learn to take some compliments because with my crew? We are going all the way to the top and your stories of our journeys are going to be known across all four seas!” As he talked he stood up, wildly gesturing as he talked about his grand plan.
When other captains of yours had talked about getting the One Piece it had always annoyed you for some reason. The hunt for fame and money was… well it was cliche. But there was something about the earnestness that Buggy talked with- the grand scale he always thought on that made you believe it.
“Well, I guess I will have to work on that.” You say as you look up at him.
“Yes. Captain’s orders.” He hops up to sit on his desk just adjacent to you. His right foot lightly knocks against the side of your left calf.
“Then I’ll have to do it.” You smile wide, his energy was infectious.
“But seriously, not a single story? There has to be one fun thing you can tell me.”
“I guess… there was this one time-“
You break into a small, stupid story but Buggy hangs on your every word. The second you’re done he shares a similar experience and you go back and forth like this for hours, journal where you were supposed to write these things down long forgotten. Somewhere along the way you both ended up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the desk and legs side by side as you both gesture wildly through your stories. You don’t know how long this goes on, but when you feel yourself fighting to open your eyes after you blink you think it might be way late.
“I should get to bed.” You nudge Buggy’s shoulder with your own, working up the strength to stand up.
“Oh yeah it’s like-“ His hand detaches and he grabs something off his desk before bringing it down to his face. “Oh shit- 3 already?”
“Wow-“ You look at the clock he grabbed and sure enough, 3:21 am. “Yeah I really need to get to bed. You too, captain.”
You get up with a grunt of effort and once you’re standing you turn around and offer up your hand to help Buggy up. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at you and he must be just as tired as you are with how long it takes for him to clasp his hand in yours and pull himself up.
“See you tomorrow night captain.” You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking out the door.
You’re not sure why you feel a low buzz in your body, nerves up from some unknown source. It’s not a gnawing anxiety… something else you can’t place. No matter what the second your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light, body getting ready for another long day.
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The Buggy Clowns were weirdly affectionate. Not all of them, mind you, you don’t think you’ll ever get Cabaji to even smile at you, but the camaraderie they have is intimate. Most of the time not in a sexual way (though you’d be remiss to ignore the raunchier performers in the circus), but in friendliness and touchiness. Never before have you been on such an affectionate crew.
Every time you put more than 10 seconds into your appearance you got hoots and hollers from most of the crew members. When you grab lunch in the mess people fight over who gets to sit with you and be documented. Even Richie has a soft side- you’ve managed to pet him without adding a body part to the now running list.
It’s been a few months now and they still fight over you at meals- a quirk you would have thought would die out long ago. Everyone is eager to tell you about their day and try and loop you into spending the rest of the day with them. Today the tightrope walkers win out- or at least they think so. Secretly you’ve made a schedule for when you follow each group and no one has caught onto your pattern yet. But it makes it easy for you and makes it so no one is favored.
But when they cheer and lean into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders you still feel like shrinking away in embarrassment. It’s not bad- you can’t deny the little ego boost it gives you- but there’s something that always makes your face burn. But all that is nothing compared to Buggy.
You quickly figure out that, like all crew attitudes, it trickles down from the top.
Of course Buggy isn’t going around hugging crew members (when he’s sober) and he does lose his temper often, but there’s also a softness to him. He’s got nicknames for everyone, and everyone gets their time in the spotlight. He personally reviews all the circus acts and when someone wants to do something new it’s rare he says no.
Everyone in the crew is a misfit, but because of that, no one is. A group of people who have never felt respected or wanted before suddenly find themselves belonging- it makes sense why everyone was surprisingly warm. But you still have a hard time handling it, especially when it comes to Buggy.
It’s the damn nicknames.
Story weaver, dearest chronicler, writing star. And the worst part? It’s always his.
My story weaver.
My star.
Never in a tone that makes you feel owned or degraded- quite the opposite really. You’re treasured, respected, seen. It’s been too long since you felt that way and the reblooming of those emotions was… uncomfortable.
But you don’t think you’d ever want it to stop.
“My lovely chronicler-“ It’s Buggy who suddenly throws you out of your thoughts with affection and a hand on your shoulder. “I have to cancel our meeting tonight.”
“What? Why?” You want to kick yourself for sounding even slightly hurt.
“Not your fault- turns out I’m a few days behind on planning out supply orders for when we dock tomorrow.” By a few days you know he means he hasn’t thought about supplies since they last docked.
“Oh, well, do you need help?” The second you finish your sentence you feel a light elbow in your side from one of the tightrope walkers but before you can turn to look at him your attention is grabbed by a clap from Buggy.
“Great! See you tonight!” He says, already walking away.
You turn to the source of the elbow. “What was that for?”
“I’m sorry, you totally just got suckered into doing all his paper work.” He says apologetically.
“Yeah, he’s done this with just about every crew member. You’re the only one who doesn’t know his trick.” Another one explains.
“Well, he is the captain, he could just make one of us do it.” You say, still very confused about this whole situation.
“Yeah, but then he has to admit that he messed up and needs someone else to do his work. This way he is just, I don’t know, reveling in his crew’s generosity.” Yeah, that sounds like him.
“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight am I.”
“Nope.” You get a few reassuring pats on the back as you slump onto the table.
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“Captain?” Later in the day you knock on his door and come in at his usual ‘come in’.
You walk in and see papers everywhere. There’s no organization, no sense that he’s actually began to work on anything, just papers on almost every flat surface you can see. You don’t think half of these are relevant to what needs to be done.
“My darling most beloved star.” Buggy calls from behind his desk. He’s laying it on thick so you don’t run away.
“Did one of your bombs explode in here?” You carefully walk over to his desk, hopping over random papers on your way.
“Yes?” It’s obvious he’s lying.
“Well… I guess we have our work cut out for us.” You make it across from him and start looking at papers, trying to find some sense.
“Yes. I trust you implicitly- now I’m just going to go-“ He stands up and you glare at him.
“You’re not going anywhere.” You’re a little annoyed, but there’s no real malice in your words. Despite that, Buggy still shrinks back.
“But you’ve got this.” He says, confidence quickly draining from his voice.
“It would go a lot faster if we work together. Come on. We will start by organizing. Figure out what actually needs to be done for tomorrow and go from there.” You gesture to the mess on his desk before you get to work on the papers discarded on the floor.
“But-“
“No.” You cut him off without even looking at him- you know he’s using his puppy dog eyes.
“Fine.” He grumbles and you hear the shift of papers that tells you he’s at least pretending to do something.
It takes you hours to get everything sorted but after that the actual work doesn’t take that long. You have a pretty good knowledge of what supplies everyone needs and the average use of those supplies in a day- you write it all down typically. All in all you’re done and dusted just before midnight, an accomplishment really.
Buggy is moping at his desk, the reward of a job well done isn’t really enough for him after he actually had to put in some effort. You’ve set up a schedule for him too- something he’ll probably ignore but you’re pretty hopeful.
“That’s it right?” His voice is partially muffled by his face being smooshed down into the wood of his desk.
“Yes, we are all done for the night.” You reply, straightening out the last stack of files on his desk.
“Yay.” His voice is flat and devoid of all joy.
“You’re pretty childish for a captain, you know that?” You take a seat across the desk, not quite ready to leave.
“That’s part of my charm darling.” He lifts his face so his chin is resting on the desk.
Darling.
That was a new one.
“It’s not your best feature but I guess it is a part of your whole deal.” You admit, still trying to shake off the weird stirring of emotions from the new pet name.
He perks up instantly, sitting up in his chair. “What’s my best feature?”
“Hm?”
“You said it’s not my best feature, which implies you know my best feature. What is it?” His smile is wide, matching his face paint.
“Ah-“ Well. You know exactly what his best feature is but you hesitate to say. It’s not what a pirate captain typically wants to hear but… well he’s anything but typical.
“I think your best feature is that you care. Genuinely. You yell and stomp around at the crew but you always make sure all of our needs are met. To some people finding the One Piece is just the thing pirates do but you care with every fiber of your being. When you want to do something, really want to do it, you throw yourself into it for better or for worse. Your risks end up paying off more often than not and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
There’s an awkward pause where Buggy’s smile drops a bit and he stares at you and you think that you’ve fucked up. He is still a pirate captain with an ego and not telling him that his strength or intellect was his best feature was a dumb mistake. But then he coughs, a fake awkward cough and you’re not sure what’s going on.
“Oh that’s- yeah- I mean what am I if not the best captain to work for in all of the seas.” The smile returns to his face but there’s something you can’t place and you feel like you’ve misstepped.
“It’s late- I should go-“ You stand up and quickly head to the door but Buggy’s voice stops you right before you exit.
“Hey-“ You turn and look at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” There’s more hovering in the space between you but none of it can be put into words.
You leave.
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Even if the Buggy pirates were worlds different from any other crew you had worked with they still party like every other pirate crew after a victory. Just a little more explosive. Literally.
You had never seen fireworks before so you were laying down on an upper deck while the loud party raged a few decks down, reveling in the bright and colorful explosions that shattered across the sky. You know Buggy made them all himself, he was surprisingly talented in pyrotechnics. It was overwhelming to your senses in the way that Buggy often was-
You’ve found yourself thinking more and more about him recently. You don’t want to think about what that means so you just shove those things down and focus on the shimmering colors dancing around the sky.
Until, of course, your captain finds you.
“My star! We are all missing our chronicler at the party!” His head peaks up over the ladder as he calls to you but you wave a dismissive hand.
“I’m just enjoying the fireworks, I’ll be down later.” You say, perched up on your elbows.
Buggy pulls himself all the way up the ladder before walking over and taking a seat next to you. “I’m glad someone is enjoying all my hard work.”
“I’d never seen fireworks before tonight.” You admit, laying back down fully.
“Really? Well I’m glad I could introduce you.” He lays down as well, only a few inches separating you two as you both lay flat on your backs.
“It’s- I mean I have no idea how you do it. It’s seriously magic.” You turn your head to look at him, admiring the profile of his face under the multicolored lights of the fireworks.
“It’s all chemicals and patience. I know, surprising that I have that.” He looks at you, a sly smile on his face.
“There really is nothing our fearless captain can’t do when he puts his mind to it.” You half joke, nudging his arm with your elbow. “But really- how do you get all those different colors?”
“Well-“
As the different fireworks explode in the sky he tells you the different chemicals he used to get the respective colors and effects. Somewhere in the explanations and pointing he’s right next to you, arms and thighs pressed together. You can’t help but lean into his warmth against the cool wind of the sea.
“I guess there will have to be a chapter on fireworks in your chronicle.” You say after the fireworks slowly die out, all of them used up by now.
“You can just slide that chapter in when things get too boring. Wake readers up with an explosion!” His hand gestures over both of your bodies.
“I’m not sure there will be any time where your story will be too boring. I’m pretty sure just by being a clown pirate you’re always interesting.”
Out of the corner of your eye you see Buggy turn his face towards yours. In turn you move your face as well, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.
He’s really quite beautiful in the moonlight.
“Do you really think that?” He asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the low drone of the party below.
“Of course.” You answer automatically.
“I uh-“ You see a panic set over his face and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. He sits up and you sit up in turn, confusion on your face.
“I should get back down to the party. It’s been-“ He stands up and practically trips over his own feet. “Nice.”
You watch him quickly descend the ladder and you’re suddenly very aware of how cold it is out on the deck at night.
You’re not sure what you did, but you messed something up.
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You stop having your nightly meetings. It’s once a week now and he blames it on the recent partnership with Alvida and her crew but you know there’s something else. You got too comfortable with your captain and distance had to be created. You were disrespectful and you needed to learn your place.
You weren’t his anymore.
Chronicler, sure. Star, sometimes. You almost despised when he used your actual name. The burning feeling of being discarded weighs in your chest every time you see him.
It was only after how painful and hard you took the slightest bit of rejection that you realized you might have feelings for your captain. Stupid inappropriate feelings. You hadn’t put the label on it before, pushing any feelings down into the pit of your gut but with how quickly they turned sour you couldn’t help but feel them rise up and burn your throat.
Stupid how you realize these things too late.
Because now there’s a new crew, a new partnership, and plenty of shiny new objects for Buggy to be enamored with. None of them you.
You still did your job through- dutifully chronicling each day. Your emotions will pass and this job is still far and away the best you’ve ever landed. You won’t throw it away over a stupid unrequited crush.
It’ll pass.
Someday.
But today isn’t that day as a pang rings through your chest as you see Buggy loop an arm around Alvida’s shoulder and pull her in close. You know there’s nothing going on between the two of them (you’re fairly confident Alvida doesn’t swing that way) but seeing him pay attention to someone else the way he paid attention to you-
You sounded like a child didn’t you.
You were just about to excuse yourself from the area when Buggy spots you and calls you over with a quick shout of your title. Taking a deep breath you steel yourself and put on a smile before walking over.
“Yes captain?” You say, overly formal as you hold your journal close.
“I was thinking maybe you could do a few weeks with the Alvida pirates, you know, get a better look at their side of things! Wrap them into the story of the Genius Jester!” He gestured grandly with his free hand.
“Oh, well, if that’s okay with captain Alvida…” You look towards the dark haired woman who shrugs.
“I’ve never had a chronicler before so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about.”
“Great! Our perfect partnership continues!” Buggy looks at you. “How’s a month sound?”
A month. He wants to get rid of you for a whole month. You swallow down your emotions. “When have I ever not followed my captain’s orders?”
“You are a loyal crew member. And it’s not like you aren’t going to see all of your crew mates! It’s just shifting focus for a bit.” It’s true, both crews frequently overlap ships but you know you’re going to be glued to that gaudy pink ship (not that the ship you were currently on wasn’t gaudy, just a different kind).
“Fine by me captain.” You say, making your voice as cheerful as possible.
“Great.”
“Good.”
There’s a long pause where the two of you are just standing there, Alvida casting glances to both of you.
“Well if that’s all I’ll go pack some of my things for my stay.” You say, already taking a step backwards.
“Yes, good idea! Always taking initiative!” He waves goodbye and you turn around as fast as possible, walking at a brisk pace when you really want to run.
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Working with Alvida wasn’t bad at all. You checked in with her once a week and she was pretty receptive to your work, provided you added in a lot of extra pages about how beautiful she was. At first it was annoying, but once you got used to it she was surprisingly nice to you.
You were two weeks into your month with her and she was already asking you about how to hire her own chronicler. It was rewarding to know that you’ve done a good enough job so far that she would seek out someone like you. You were working hard, trying to shift your focus from your emotions into something more productive.
It didn’t work.
Every day you found yourself looking around the decks hoping to catch a glimpse of your captain visiting. He was never there.
You saw plenty of your other crew mates- both crews frequented both ships as you sailed together. It was nice having that familiarity, but the reminder that you were specifically sent away while they got to go back to their ship every night stung.
“Ah, chronicler.” Alvida’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, having zoned out while recording what the meals were for the day in the kitchen.
“Hello Alvida, was there something you needed?” Your finger slipped into your journal as a placeholder as you turned your attention to her.
“Yes. I just finished discussing some business with Buggy and your good work came up.” You couldn’t help but puff up a bit- You did want him to know you were still exceeding at your job. “And then he made me an offer that I’d like to extend to you. He said if I wanted you full time I had his permission, so. Would you like to be my chronicler?”
There’s a full 30 seconds that you have to take to process the words that were said to you and come up with a response that doesn’t sound like your heart just got shattered into a million pieces.
“Oh wow, that’s quite the offer I- uh-“ Your mind is struggling to work under the weight of your emotions and Alvida catches on that you’re overwhelmed.
“It’s a big change so you can take some time to think about it. Just come to me when you have your answer.” She gives you a curt nod before heading off, leaving you with your spiraling thoughts.
You manage to hold back your tears until you’re at you bunk, burying your face in your pillow to catch your flow of tears. There was something so painful about being shipped off to someone else, being so unwanted he couldn’t stand to work with you anymore. You’re not even sure what you did wrong which might be the most frustrating part.
If you could lead this all back to one action you took maybe you could make it better- maybe you could go back.
But you didn’t.
You know when you’re not wanted.
Later that day you knock on Alvida’s door and accept her offer. All your stuff is already on her ship so you don’t ever have to step foot on Buggy’s ship ever again.
It’s easier that way.
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A month has gone by of officially being the chronicler of the Alvida pirates. It’s… fine. Painfully fine. Perfectly average.
You stop wearing bright colors, swapped out for the pinks and reds that cover the ship. You still keep your old clothes, tucked away in a box that also has the journal you used to chronicle your time the the Buggy pirates. The sequins and stripes keep it safe and far away from you, letting you pull back at the last second before you obsessively repour over the pages to find where you went wrong.
You were getting better.
You stopped crying every night, you stopped longing looking over the bow at Buggy’s ship, you stopped searching for him whenever your old crew came over.
The lingering feelings will pass soon, and you eagerly count down the days until your heart patches itself up and moves on.
It was easy to ignore your emotions during a storm. All your energy focused on locking up your stuff and going where you were needed- you were a chronicler but all hands on deck meant all hands.
It was a nasty storm- lighting and high waves bashing against the hull repeatedly and ruthlessly. You were down below deck, sent on your own to grab emergency medical supplies from deep storage, two crew members had already broken bones and there were probably going to be countless other injuries before the storm let up. Boxes shoved in your arms you were making your way back up to the medical bay when you heard it- the sound you never want to hear below deck.
The sound of wood breaking.
You hear the hit of a strong wave before the groaning of wood and then that dreaded sound. You only have a second to process it before you hear the flood of seawater rushing in. Dropping the boxes you quickly jump to the ladder, scrambling up as you hear water flooding in behind you.
You make it up the ladder and halfway to the next one before the next wave hits. Your world jolts under you and you’re flung to the floor and the back of your head hits the deck- hard.
Your vision swims as you feel sea water rushing over your body and you push yourself up, ignoring the nausea overwhelming your senses. You crawl to the ladder, water threatening to grab and pull you under. Grasping the rung of the ladder you try to pull yourself up before your realize just how hurt you must be.
The pain, the blurry vision, you barely have control over your body. There’s no way you can pull yourself up the ladder. The sea was going to take you and you didn’t have the senses about you to swim. It was over.
You hang your head, watching the water swell up around your body as you wonder if all your works will go missing to the sea. Maybe there will be nothing left of you. Or maybe someone will find your journal- just dry enough that the words haven’t dissolved and run together. Maybe someone will remember you.
Somewhere in the distance someone shouts your name.
You’re confident it’s your addled mind playing tricks on you until it’s louder and right above you- loud and frantic. You look upwards and see Buggy, rain soaked and panicked.
Now you’re really confident you’re seeing things.
“Grab my hand!” He lays down on the deck above you and extends his hand and everything becomes real painfully fast.
“Get out of here! The water- You can’t-“ You yell out, head throbbing.
“I said grab my hand! Captain’s orders!” He shouts and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.
Gathering up all the strength in your body you pull yourself up a few rungs until you can reach out and grab his hand, quickly being violently pulled up the rest of the way.
“Can you walk?” He asks, yanking you up to your feet. You fall into his body, answering his question for him. “Alright.”
Suddenly one of his arms is under your knees and the other is around your shoulders and you’re being carried, your vision obscured by Buggy’s clothes. It’s better that way, you think hazily, to see him and not your death waiting to swallow you up. Maybe it’s a trick your mind is playing and you’re down in that lower deck, knocked out and drowning. But as you curl up against him and your thoughts fade to nothingness it’s a trick you’re willing to accept.
If your last thoughts are of him it’s not a bad way to go.
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You wake up with a start- jolting up in bed before realizing how much that sudden action hurts. Your hand flies to the back of your head and you realize it’s been bandaged up.
“Hey- take it easy.” Eyes flicking up you see Buggy standing up from a chair in the corner of your room.
Your room- back on Buggy’s ship.
“You really should lay back down.” He’s a few steps closer now and in the dimmed light of the room you can finally get a good look at him.
He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he probably hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his normal face paint is missing. He’s down to just his vest and pants, normal bright accessories missing.
The memories of the ship sinking come rushing back to you and a panic sets into your chest. “Wait what happened- the ship- the crew-“
“Hey, hey, it’s alright calm down.” He sits down on the bed and takes one of your hands in his. “Alvida’s ship sank, but we managed to get everyone out and on here before she went down.”
Your breathing evens out and you relax a bit. “Good.”
“We were calling everyone to get on board here right when you had left to go grab supplies- you were missing so I came and got you.” He explains, putting the remaining pieces together for you.
“You-“
“Just wanted to make sure you woke up alright so now I-“ He drops your hand and stands up. “Will go.”
He gets to the door before your words stop him.
“You shouldn’t have done that. It was- you could have easily died. You can’t swim and you didn’t even-“ You screw your eyes shut, brain still putting itself back together from the hard hit.
“Captain’s duties.” He explains shortly, hand still on the doorknob and not looking at you.
“Yeah but, you’re not my captain. You made it painfully clear you did not want to be my captain.” You swing your feet off the bed, glaring holes into his back as weeks of repressed emotions come leaking out the broken and battered seams.
“It’s not like that-“ He says, forehead meeting the wood of your door.
“Then what is it like then? Because I’m just confused and hurt! I don’t understand!” Your hands fist in the sheets of your bed as tears well up in your eyes.
“Please don’t-“ He turns around and you see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t cry.”
“Then tell me what I did wrong!” You shout, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.
“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” He wrings his hands and looks down at the floor. “You’re too- you’re too good for me.”
The words ring in the dim space and confusion comes over your already frazzled mind. “What?”
“You- okay.” He takes a deep breath and shift from foot to foot. “You have this grand idea of who I am. You think I’m smart and caring and a good captain and that’s just not true. I’m not any of those things. I’m just a huge faker. I was never meant to be a captain- I just keep doing it because I have to.”
You look over his anxious form and finally see what he’s been hiding under all those flashy clothes and bright face paint. He was truly and painfully insecure.
You go to stand up, slipping off the bed to try and land on your feet but your vision blurs and you slip and you’re sure you’re going to crack your head on the floor again. But before you can land your being held, Buggy’s hands having quickly detached and grabbed you. The rest of his body runs over only seconds later, connecting his hands back and placing you delicately back on your bed.
You’re sitting up again, Buggy anxiously standing next to the bed as he looks over your body, checking to make sure you’re okay. This time you reach out, taking Buggy’s hand despite the fact you can see him wanting to run away again.
“Buggy, you’re really stupid sometimes.” You see his face shift into pure confusion and you elaborate. “I don’t think those things because of all the acts you put on- I think those things because that’s what I really think after spending so much time with you. I know who you are, don’t think I don’t.”
Buggy practically collapses, sitting next to you on the bed. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” You grip harder on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.
“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, his voice cracking under his emotions.
“You- all this time- Buggy, look at me.” You pull at his hand, urging him to follow your directive.
He does and you see all the emotions you’ve been feeling swirling in his eyes. “I care about you. And I don’t care if you think you’ll disappoint me! I just want you.”
You feel something break as you stare into each others eyes and in a flash he’s on you- lips pressing harshly against yours. He’s messy and harsh and frantic as he overwhelms you and you let him. Your freehand tangles in his hair and holds his head close. Neither of you break the kiss until you absolutely need to, pulling away gasping for air as spit still connects the two of you.
“Do you mean it?” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours.
“Did it feel like I meant it?” You grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t know… I might have to check again.” You see a smile creep back onto his face and you pull him in again.
He kisses you like a man starved, eagerly throwing himself into you. He nips at your lips, pulling playfully as he slides on top of you, your body sliding down into the bed in turn. You can’t tell if his hands are attached to his body or not as you feel them wandering your skin, pushing up under the hem of your shirt and grabbing onto your waist. You whine into his mouth and he pulls away quickly.
“Did I- sorry is this too fast we can-“ You shut him up by pulling him in for a quick kiss.
“I want more.” You say against his lips and he nods so furiously you think his head might fall off.
His lips trail down, kissing where your jaw and throat meet. As he does so you feel a deft hand undo the fastenings on your pants and sliding into them, plunging past the hem of your underwear and to your folds. Your hips buck up as his fingers ghost over you and you hear him chuckle.
“Don’t laugh at me!” You lightly hit his back, unable to stop smiling.
“I’m not, I’m not.” He claims, but you know otherwise. It’s hard to be mad at him though when his fingers pry open your folds and he sucks in a breath when he finally dips in. “Fuck you’re wet.”
“All for-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as two fingers press into you. “All for you.”
His motions still for a second before he’s biting into your neck as his fingers sink all the way into you. “Can’t just say that stuff. Fuck you don’t know what you do to me.”
You feel him grind up against your leg and that sends a thrill through you and you push further. “Missed you so much- thought about you every day-“
“My lovely star-“ He breathes into your skin, fingers pumping in and out of you.
“That- I missed that. Missed you calling me yours.” You admit through moans as his fingers stretched you out.
All of a sudden his fingers are pulling out and you whine as he sits up. In a flash hands are tugging your shirt up and off your body while he shimmies down your bed. Once your shirt is discarded he can pull down your pants, hands smoothing over your thighs. He takes a few moments to just look at you and your face heats up.
“See you still need to learn how to take a compliment.” He jokes as he lays back down, pushing apart your thighs so he can settle between them.
“This is not the same.” You try and argue, your hand drifting to his bright blue hair as he kisses up the inside of your thighs.
“Whatever you say.” You want to argue further but all coherent thoughts leave your brain when you feel his breath on your folds.
You feel his fingers spread you apart before he dives in, tongue eagerly lapping up your slick. Your hand fists in his hair as he pushes his tongue into you, the thick muscle a welcome sensation. When his tongue leaves you, you whine but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he wraps his lips around your clit.
“Fuck- Buggy- Just like that!” You buck your hips up into his mouth and you feel his fingers slip back into you.
He listens, repeating the motion and adding a third finger inside you. His other hand comes around to the back of your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder so he can have better access. His tongue swirls between your clit and thrusting in with his fingers. As your orgasm builds up you pull tighter at his hair in warning and you feel him groan into your folds. The vibration against your clit edges you ever closer so you pull again, not missing the way his hips jerk up against the bed as you do.
He sucks on your clit as his fingers curl inside you and the dam breaks, orgasm washing over you. Buggy slowly pulls his fingers out of you but you still feel his tongue on you, lapping up your slick as you come down.
You gently pull on his hair, urging him to come closer to you. He gets the message, sliding up your body until he’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices.
“Can I repay the favor?” You ask, your hands sliding down his body until he shakes his head.
“Baby- if I even see you on your knees in front of me I’m going to blow my load before I can get inside you.” His confession makes your skin run hot as you surge up to him, kissing him deeply.
“Then get inside me.” You say when you finally pull away, your own taste lingering in your mouth.
“Oh, who’s the captain now?” He grins as he slides off the bed to quickly take off his vest and pants.
You can’t help but stare at his cock, long and curved and you need it inside you now. He sees you staring at it’s the ego boost he needs as he crawls back in bed, slotting his hips between your thighs. His hand guides his tip to rub against your clit and you whine impatiently. He chuckles but lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in.
“You’re so- warm- tight- fuck-“ Buggy thrusts into you despite himself, every inch of him inside you all at once and you practically scream his name.
“Can’t help myself baby you feel-“ His body covers yours as he mouths at your collarbone and throat and whatever skin he can find. “So much better than I thought.”
“You thought about me?” You manage out, breathless.
“Every damn day and night I-“ His thrusts are erratic but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s still making you feel so good. “Sometimes, after you left our meetings I’d- I’d touch myself the second you left I couldn’t stop imagining you on my desk I- fuck-“
Knowing he thought about you like that did things to you and you drag your nails down his back and hook your legs around his waist, unable to verbalize through your moans. You can tell he’s close already, the throb of his cock and the way his filthy words are getting increasingly slurred. You’re close too, and you reach up and grab Buggy’s hand, urging it down to your sensitive bud. He takes the direction well, his thumb rubbing right circles that make you see stars.
“Where- I’m so close-“ He chokes out and as he goes to pull out you clench your legs tighter, trapping him inside you.
“Fill me up, please Buggy.” You whine and that’s it for him.
You feel hot ropes of cum fill you up as he groans into your neck. He manages to still work your clit so it’s only a few moments after him that you’re orgasming again, milking every drop of cum out of him. Breathless, he collapses on top of you, softening cock still in you.
You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight as though letting him go means he’d drift away from you again. He nuzzled into your neck and must sense that somethings up.
“‘m not gonna be that stupid again.” He says, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Not gonna let you go.”
“I’m your chronicler again?” You ask, voice weak with emotions.
“Until the end of time.” He promises, and you trust him completely.
239 notes · View notes
whatsnewalycat · 7 months ago
Text
mindfuck
Dave York x f!Reader
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Summary: Dave hypnotizes you.
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
Word Count: 2.8k+
Warnings: hypnokink, not entirely good praxis of hypnosis, humiliation, implied infidelity, praise, smut, unprotected piv, D/s dynamic, dom dave, literal mind fucking so like a bit of body horror get into it
Notes: For @iamasaddie kinky May writing challenge. Prompt was hypnosis + Dave York. I found a lot of inspiration for this from a post in r/EroticHypnosis about mindfucking (can find again if anyone wants the link - lemme know!). Posting this in a hurry bc I am late to a thing so hopefully not tooooo many missed mistakes. OK THANK YOU FOR READING!!!
[ my masterlist ]
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All your life you wished you could turn off your thoughts at will. 
Growing up, on those nights where your crowded head wouldn’t let you sleep, you would imagine twisting off the top of your skull like a jar lid and plopping your brain on the nightstand. It even worked sometimes, too, if you tried hard to convince yourself. When reminders of an upcoming math test or images of that cute boy in class crept into your purview, they had nowhere to go. They evaporated, and you slept. 
Dave says you’re too smart for your own good. Sometimes when you’re lost in thought, he tells you he wants to empty that pretty little head of yours. Not in a condescending way, although you can see how someone might interpret it like that. 
What he means is that he wants you to be with him when you’re with him. What he means is that he wants you to be present. Not thinking about the past or the future. Not reminding yourself of deadlines or analyzing the data stored in your brain or wondering what you mean to him exactly. 
The first time he suggested hypnosis, you balked. Even after he explained how it worked, you were hesitant enough for him to drop the subject. 
When he brought it up again, though, your skepticism swayed. You asked him for more details, so he dispensed the pros and cons and the step process. He could do it for you, he said. He knew how. He said he could rattle the bees from your buzzing honeycomb brain. All you had to do was trust him with this power. 
So you did. 
And you do. 
Your valiant beekeeper meets you at this hotel every other Tuesday night, except on holidays. This isn’t the only one-on-one time he dedicates to you, but it’s by far the most reliable. He doesn’t always hypnotize you, either. 
Regardless of whether he puts you in a trance or not, this standing date always starts the same. He slips you the keycard at some point throughout the day, only after he’s adorned it with a vase full of seasonal blooms and laid out something for you to wear. 
Tonight he left you lilacs and matching lingerie. Intricate floral appliqués embellish the pastel nightie he laid out on the bed. 
Opulence becomes you when you slip it on and pour a glass of champagne from the bottle Dave left to chill on ice. You mosey around the spacious high-end suite, sipping frosty bubbles as you admire the birds-eye view of downtown, the tall buildings and bustling city life all drenched in golden light from the setting sun. 
As the time nears eight o’clock, you empty your champagne flute and make yourself comfortable on the plush bed. Crystals hanging from the chandelier fragment soft white light into dazzling tiny spectrums, sparkling rainbow when the door to the suite opens, then closes. 
Dave enters the room with an air of authority that makes you straighten your spine and draw back your shoulders. After chucking off his jacket, he empties his pockets on the dresser and loosens his tie, then turns around to meet your gaze. 
His stern expression melts as he looks you over, seeming to appraise how your body fills out the lilac nightie. Heat sparks in the middle of you when he greets you, “Hey beautiful.” 
“Hi.” 
He approaches your side and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt, “Comfortable?” 
Nodding, you sit up to pull him in for a kiss. His plush lips respond without hesitation, firm but generous as he slips a wide palm around your body and brings you even closer. 
When he pulls back, he asks, “Are you ready?” 
“Ready.” 
He cradles your jaw, searching your face with blatant admiration before separating his body from yours. You lay back into the soft embrace of the pillows and wiggle around until you find the sweet spot of comfort while Dave drags an armchair to your bedside and sits down. Once you’re both settled and still, he begins. 
“Close your eyes.” 
You close them. 
“Take a deep breath in…”
You take in air until you can’t. 
“…and slowly release it.” 
You exhale, rationing your metered breath through a straw-sized ‘o’ formed by your lips. 
“Good. Take a deep breath in… two three four… and slowly release it. Deep breath in… two three four… now slowly release it.”
Behind closed lids, you concentrate on the rhythmic ebb and flow of your lungs contracting and expanding. His warm voice surrounds you. Envelops you. 
“That’s it. Keep breathing just like this. Each time you inhale, draw the life from your breath, and exhale the rest. Notice how cleansing it feels to let it go. How the tension melts from your muscles every time you take a deep breath in…”
You inhale. 
“…two three four…” 
Hold it. 
“…and slowly release it.” 
Then exhale.
“Perfect. Keep doing that. Now imagine that every time you take a deep breath in, a warm wave washes over you… and as you slowly release it, the tide carries away tension, allowing your muscles to soften and relax…”
Each big lungful heats the tar holding your body together. You dissolve into the mattress as Dave’s deep, honeyed voice resonates through you. 
“Again, take a deep breath in as the warm wave of relaxation washes over you, two three four… and slowly release it as the tide carries away your tension, allowing your muscles to soften and relax. Concentrate on my voice. Recognize it as a touchstone. If your mind starts to wander, have it return to the touchstone, return to my voice, and relax even deeper.” 
Trees tower above you, stretching high into the pale blue sky. The moss-covered rock before you glows as he speaks. 
“Notice how relaxed you feel. Notice that every time the warm wave of relaxation washes over you, two three four… tension melts from your body as you allow yourself to sink deeper and deeper into the sensation. Allow the relaxation to seep from your muscles into your bloodstream… to course through your veins and calm every cell in your body.
“Focus on your face. All those tiny little muscles in your forehead and around your eyes, notice how relaxed they are. Notice how the relaxation melts the muscles in your cheeks and jaw, letting your mouth go slack. You might feel as though you want to speak, but find yourself so relaxed that you can’t. That’s ok, because it feels good and safe to let the words dissolve on your tongue. Doesn’t it?” 
When you try to respond, your lips don’t move. This fact doesn’t bother you. It feels good and safe in the forest, staring up at the treetops. 
You realize you’re floating in a pond. You hear birds peacefully chirping and know it’s just you and them and the touchstone for a million miles. 
Everything feels profound, but simple. You are small and big like a speck of dust or a galaxy. You are safe. You are at peace. 
“Doesn’t it feel so good to relax, darling?” 
Your fingertips rest against the soft moss of the touchstone. 
“Yes, it does,” you tell it. 
It glows with a satisfactory hum that vibrates through you.  
“Perfect. Continue to focus on my voice. Soon, I will ask you to open your eyes, then close them. When you close your eyes, you’ll notice a warm wave of relaxation washing over you, turning knots into snarls and snarls into strands, every muscle in your body gently untangling as you allow them to go limp and heavy…”
You understand and follow his instructions. 
“Open your eyes and take a deep breath in, two three four… and slowly release it, closing your eyes, letting the warm wave wash over you and pull you in deeper. 
“Soon, I’ll ask you to open your eyes again. When you close them, you’ll notice the warm wave of relaxation wash over you even stronger than before, pulling you even deeper. 
“Open your eyes, two three four… and close your eyes, sinking deeper and deeper. Good job. We’ll do it one more time, and when you close your eyes and relax, sink as deep as you can, all the way to the bottom. Open your eyes, two three four… and close your eyes.” 
You’re lying in a meadow of wildflowers outside the forest, looking up at the serene blue sky. The earth beneath you is solid and brings you an immense sense of comfort. 
“I want you to think about desire. Think about that warm, lush longing inside you. Concentrate on how good this sensation feels in your body, pleasure swelling thick at the center of you.”
His voice surrounds you, but you don’t see its source. The soothing timbre resonates from the wildflowers and the earth and the sky, from everywhere and nowhere all at once like how you imagine God sounded to Old Testament prophets. 
You bring your focus to desire. It does feel good. Amazing, actually. Tangible like a glowing ball of heat between your thighs that throbs with each syllable he speaks. 
“Allow the sensation to grow. Let it stretch and pulse and heat your skin. Let your mind empty of everything except this arousal. When thoughts arise, you let them fall away and arousal fills the empty space. You’ll let this happen over and over again until your head is empty of everything but arousal. Do you understand? You can speak now, darling, go ahead and answer.” 
“Yes.” 
“Try it for me.” 
You acknowledge the cognitions that populate your mind. When you think about how you need to put gas in your car, you imagine the reminder dropping away, then imagine the warm wanting glow of desire branching up through your body to take its place. You think about a work project, but it loosens and falls into an abyss. Desire floods the space in its wake, a thick hot liquid that glows with light like lava, spreading to each new vacancy with ease as the thoughts drop from your consciousness. 
“How does it feel?” 
“Good,” you breathe, voice faint on your tingling tongue. 
“Do you like how it feels, being horny and mindless?” 
Your husband’s face appears, taking up your whole mind, then falls away. Rich, bubbling pleasure surges through you to fill the gap. You have to suppress a moan to respond. 
“I like it,” you nod, “Fuck, it feels amazing.” 
“Good girl. Now, you might notice something interesting happen when I ask you a question. You might notice that when I ask you a question, you’ll try to form a thought to answer. When you do this, you’ll feel my cock enter your mind. It’s bigger and harder than you’ve ever seen it, swollen and thick and so fucking ready for you, darling. When you try to form a thought, it pushes forward into the wet hot folds of your brain, severing the connections that typically allow you to think, preventing a response from forming. My cock pulls out, and slowly thrusts forward again, pushing out the thoughts, over and over for as long as you consider a response to my question. It becomes impossible to focus. You might notice that this penetration feels like it would in your pussy. My hard cock rutting in and out, sending waves of arousal through your body, fucking the thoughts from your head. Every time my cock moves, you’ll try to respond but cannot make yourself focus. It feels amazing. You give in to the sensation, allowing it to overtake you completely. When you’re fully saturated with arousal and nothing else, my cock pulls out of your mind.” 
Your skin feels static and warm when you imagine him pushing his smooth, throbbing length into your brain. A shaky whimper croaks in your throat. Your heart thuds heavy within your chest, circulating desire, warm and wet, to every cell in your body. 
“You might notice that when I ask you another question, any attempts at thought or sensations that come up except arousal will be fucked from your head until you surrender to the arousal. It feels good to be dominated in this way. To let pleasure consume your entire being.” 
Licking your lips, you nod to show you understand.  
“Now when I ask you a question, you’ll allow your subconscious to follow my instructions. Are you ready, darling?” 
“Yes.” 
“How was your day?” 
When you try to recall your day and formulate an answer, the tip of his cock pierces the equator of your brain, splitting the hemispheres. He drives forward slowly, steadily, making you moan as he stretches you apart and tears all those delicate tissues that generate thought. Still, you try. 
My day, how was my day…
He drags his cock out, then drives it deeper inside you. 
Day… how was…
Your nerve endings buzz as he pulls out, gooey arousal shines on the shaft of his thick cock. He plunges forward into the hot center of you. You work your hips and whine. You can’t remember what he asked. It doesn’t seem as important as the pleasure clinging to your insides as he fucks you, so you give up. 
His cock pulls out of your mind completely. 
“What’s the weather supposed to be like tomorrow?” 
You consider the question. The tip of him breaches your brain, forcing out forecasts and clouds and sunshine. Fragments return as you attempt to answer again. 
The weather tomorrow…
He pumps in and out of you, obliterating whatever it was he wanted to know. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the insatiable pleasure thrumming through you as he rubs against all your hungry nerves, giving them what they want. 
“Oh my god,” you hear yourself gasp. 
“How often do you think about fucking me?” 
Seeds of embarrassment sprout the tender beginnings of thought, then he fucks them out of your head until you’re rolling your hips, moaning and nodding for more. 
“Do you make yourself come when you think about fucking me?” 
Only a loading screen appears before he’s inside you again. His perfect, thick cock pumps you full of this throbbing heat. You wish it would never end. You want to feel this and only this forever. 
“That’s it, that’s my good girl. So horny and mindless for me. Letting my cock push deep and hard into the folds of your brain, fucking out all your thoughts, leaving your head empty to stuff you with arousal until you’re swollen and ripe, nothing else left but how fucking horny you are.” 
“Sssooooo fucking gooood,” you slur. 
“How would your husband feel if he saw you like this? In this hotel room, all dressed up in lingerie I bought for you, moaning and writhing on the bed?” 
A thought starts, and he pounds it out of you, merciless in its rhythm as each thrust pushes you higher and higher. Horny and mindless, that’s all you are. Nothing matters except this.
“Do you really think we’ll run away together? Do you really think I’d leave my wife for you?” 
A rotten sensation tingles in your chest before you feel him enter you from both ends, the cock in your mind working in tandem with the cock in your pussy. You choke out a moan and nod, body vibrating with a thick, hot sensation you can’t find the beginning or end of. 
“Fuck fuck fuck, holy fuck—” 
He groans, rolling his hips faster, fucking your entire being so hard and fast that you become pleasure itself. It’s everything and everywhere for eternity and you gladly accept this fact, wanting to forever exist in this moment. 
“That’s so good, darling. So fucking good. You want me to let you come, don’t you?” 
You nod frantically as the edges of you start to fray.
“Go ahead, come for me.” 
His permission completely unravels you, ripping away the last delicate thread holding you together. You sob as you fall apart into a thousand pieces. His hips stutter and he moans, giving you a few deep thrusts before pulling out. 
Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. You float in the peaceful pond, staring up at the towering treetops that kiss the sky. 
“Now in a minute, I’ll bring you back to your normal state. When I count to four and tell you to wake up, you’ll come out of the trance relaxed and refreshed. Your mind will feel spotless. You’ll know that I adore you and hold you close to my heart.”
You hear birds peacefully chirping. You know it’s just you and them and Dave for a million miles. You are small and big like a speck of dust or a galaxy. You are safe. You are at peace. 
“And one two three four… wake up.”
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sweetandglovelyart · 2 months ago
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I didn’t have time to draw something for the Japanese anniversary of the release of Squeak Squad, but I am planning to draw some stuff for the American anniversary! Squeak Squad was the first Kirby game I ever played and is one of my favorite Nintendo DS games from my childhood so I have a lot of love for it and definitely want to draw something for its anniversary 🐁
Also, I swear that I’m working on Knightfall in Dream Land, I’m so sorry that it’s been like two months since I’ve updated the comic, it’s just that grad school is killing me at the moment and I’m getting ready to defend my proposal for my dissertation topic so that’s been taking priority over the comic… 🥲 I’ve been working hard so that I can get my PhD by the end of summer. Anyway, sorry again for the lack of art and lack of comic updates, I promise that I’m working on the comic, it’s just taking a bit longer than usual to update because school/life stuff is taking priority right now. Thank you all for your patience! I hope you like the next page when I (eventually) post it!
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cherryfennec · 1 year ago
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Okay I love your most recent art work of Mario and Mr. L!!! I’m just curious how on earth did you draw their hats so well?? Especially the brim of their hats?! Hats are the one thing I struggle with when drawing them! I can’t make it look believable!
Hi! First of all thank you for the kind words, I'm glad you like the art! Now as for hats (more specifically Mario and Luigis type) there can be different ways you might go about drawing them.
(I should probably mention at the beginning that I am not an expert and sometimes struggle myself as well. Despite this I'll try my best to explain how I usually approach it.)
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Let's start with brims because they seem the most problematic (as I see it.)
What I'm going to talk about might already be intuitive for a lot of people, including myself, however I thought it'd be a good idea to break down the mindset so everyone is on the same page and those who have trouble seeing it can hopefully understand stuff better.
First it's obviously the idea. No real details, just the general idea. With it we'll be able to establish the basic rules for what you're drawing, most importantly the angle and perspective.
Now this is going to be pretty self explanatory but: if I'm drawing a character looking up I know that the bottom of the brim will be visible, if the characters looking down it won't and etc. An easy way to check which parts of the brim will be visible from a specific view point is to imagine it as a slab.
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Now this isn't anything mind blowing, I know, but saying this out loud can be handy and save you some overthinking.
Alright, let's talk about the hat itself now!
In most of the pictures I could find of the bros hats they're divided into two parts: the front, which is taller and slightly spiked up, and the back, which is noticeably shorter. Now this kinda goes back to the idea of simplifying shapes:
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At some point it unfortunately becomes rather difficult to explain why some stuff is drawn the way it is because it's kinda justified by: "that's how the real life counterparts act". Above everything I highly recommend references, both irl and ingame ones. It's not embarrassing to use them, trust me, no one will criticise you and they'll help!
Now that we got the brim and the hat, let's put the two together!
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There isn't really a strict order of how you should draw things, everyone has different preferences and processes which should be taken into consideration. For example, I personally like to draw the entire head before I touch on the cap:
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(I added the hair and colours for the sole purpose of this post, this process is usually done during rough sketching.)
This way I have a point of reference where the brim ends (right before the ear for me) and where I should place the middle line on the cap (it's a bit of a stylistic choice than anything but it also lets me know where the fold will be). You can find your own way and make your own rules and with time the process will get much easier! I hope this somewhat helps.
Just practice, have patience, experiment and most importantly: have fun!
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yourloveaton · 23 days ago
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Continuing
Secondly, Gaster and his relationship with Trickster. We know that Gaster knows Sans is Trickster from the very beginning. But I'm curious about something. You said that at some point Trickster became some kind of symbol of hope in the underground? How did that happen, like I personally don't believe that this happened ONLY because of his jokes and riddles that gave him this title. You often draw Trickster fighting, does this mean that Sans somehow manages to find himself superhero-type problems in this closed underground? Or is he just helping the monsters in some way? Does Gaster worry about Sans's Trickster activity at least a little? If not because of the fights and maybe sometimes risky tricks, then because of the title of "Hope" for the people of the underground. Or is he happy, because the monsters lack something like that in their lives, and if it so happened that this symbol turned out to be Trickster, then oh well 🤷‍♂️. Maybe Dadster is even a little proud of Sans for this? Would he say it out loud to him if that's the case?
I’ve been working on Trickster’s lore with that same question imprinted into my head HAHAHA Like how did this guy somehow managed to become the symbol of hope in the underground when all he does is tricks and cause trouble and more..
So far, I’d like to think that Trickster started out as mischievous cryptic being that messed around once in a while (playing pranks, pissing the folk out, playing with them, putting on a show etc.) which made him known among the underground community (Many monsters had different opinions about him, rumors and discussions had spread all around)
As time went on, Trickster’s antics grew on them as well as how Trickster helped the people out in need, whether small or not and many other traits that he’s displayed. I think there would a turning point for Trickster’s career where he suddenly became the symbol of hope, someone to count on at darkest times for the underground. Because he’ll be there for you no matter what and maybe, just maybe he’d be able to get everyone out of here. His actions and what he’s done would have inspired many monsters and with everyone’s desire to cling to somewhere to hold on (how monsters want to come up to the surface and be free rather than be trapped underground) Trickster happened to be there, holding their hopes and dreams for them.
That’s what I think Trickster’s character would be like, how he became the symbol of hope for the underground even if he was a very annoying prank-pulling entertaining jester.
I actually tried portraying the whole thing with this drawing too !!! I had been thinking about Trickster’s character and tried to convey that feeling through this art piece hahahaha
He’ll guide you, the glimmer of hope!
Waiting for the sunlight to bestow onto the underground
Hopefully one day…
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Something charming, something inspirational, something beautiful to admire and feel hope !!! I think that’s what I aimed for this drawing hahahha ahhahahahaha
For dadster, I’m thinking he didn’t care much on what sans did as long as it didn’t hinder their work. Though he MIGHT BE one of the first monsters that MIGHT HAVE held hope for Trickster or his SON in general :) His best student and bright son like a shining star, his bundle of light and hope…………… though he never says anything ab it to Sans so LOL And Dadster might even be a little proud of Sans and there could be times when he’s worried about him too hehehhe hehehe But no words are ever uttered…
I hope I was be able to answer the question properly and understandable!! I hope it makes sense 🥲🥲🥲💖💖💖
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