#i can barely draw where is this coming from…

[mournthebird]

Knots.

summary: You help the soldier with some self care.

warnings: Post!HYDRA Winter Soldier | Post!HTP and abuse | PTSD symptoms & behavior | Flashbacks of HTP | Past dehumanization | Flashbacks of SA | Intimate handlers

a/n: Bit of a short one, but I thought helping him shave would be nice <3 And maybe trim his long hair a bit too. Two more chapters to go and I think that will be it for this series. I wrote this quick so please don't mind any errors. ;; wc: 3.1k

"Your hair has grown a bit."

Your voice cut through the air, startling him out of his previously zoned out mindset where his thoughts had been drifting aimlessly through memories and half-formed ideas. He blinked several times, slowly turning to look over at you with slightly unfocused eyes that gradually sharpened with awareness. It was then that he truly noticed his hair, for the first time in what felt like forever - the weight of it, the way it fell across his vision, the unkempt state it had fallen into. He hadn't really paid any attention to how he looked since he...well, he couldn't remember when. The days and months had blurred together into an indistinct haze.

"...sorry." He mumbled, the word coming out soft and uncertain, not exactly sure what else to say in response. You didn't sound like you were upset or berating him, which was a small comfort, but old habits died hard. He never got to tend to himself before, he wasn't allowed to - personal care had been a luxury far beyond his reach. You never asked him to look after himself either, so he wasn't sure what he could've done to avoid your comment, leaving him adrift in unfamiliar waters of self-care and personal autonomy.

"It's alright, don't apologize," your reassurance was nice, washing over him like a warm blanket and helping to ease some of the tension from his shoulders.

You gently reached out, your fingers carefully threading through his dark, unkempt hair. Over time, he had grown increasingly comfortable with your gentle touches, no longer tensing or pulling away when he knew your hands were approaching. The progress had been slow but steady - though he would still occasionally flinch if caught unaware by sudden contact, the reflexive response born from years of conditioning never failed to go away completely. In those moments, you would always take extra care to reassure him with soft words, reminding him that he was safe.

"I can trim it for you, if you want." You offered softly, studying the way his hair had grown past his collar. Your hand drifted downward, fingers ghosting along his jawline where several days' worth of stubble had accumulated. "And shave some of this," you added, feeling the rough, prickly texture beneath your fingertips. The soldier's own hand rose hesitantly to mirror your gesture, touching his jaw as he swallowed thickly, considering the offer.

"...if you want to." His voice was quiet, uncertain, still struggling with expressing his own desires.

"Do you want to?" You emphasized gently, wanting him to make the choice for himself.

"...yes." The word came out barely above a whisper, but it was decisive.

The ceramic sink gradually filled with warm, gently bubbling water as the fragrant soap and rich shaving cream created a luxurious foam inside it. You swished the gleaming razor through the water, the metal catching the bathroom light as you turned back to face the patient soldier. He sat perfectly poised on the wooden stool in the bathroom, his big blue eyes gazing up at you without much of an expression.

"Keep still alright?" You spoke in gentle, soothing tones, bringing the well-honed blades up to his stubbled cheek and carefully drawing them down to his defined jaw in smooth, measured strokes. Of course, Soldat remained absolutely motionless, like a masterfully carved statue perched on that little wooden stool, his posture relaxed yet perfectly controlled. He allowed you to delicately adjust his head to whatever angle was needed as you continued shaving his face, your movements precise and unhurried to make sure every swipe was perfect.

"Doing okay?" You asked gently, pausing to check in with him about halfway through the intimate ritual. The soldier lifted his gaze to meet yours, his expression almost innocently vulnerable, making your stomach suddenly flip with unexpected emotion. In all your time together, he had never looked at you quite like that before - with such openness and implicit trust.

You took a moment to admire his features in quiet appreciation - the strong, defined angle of his jawline that spoke of nobility, the soft pink hue of his perfectly shaped lips that almost held a permanent, precious pout, and those remarkable eyes that drew you in. Those eyes, windows to his soul, held such warmth and vitality that it made your heart ache. Despite all the pain and suffering he endured, despite every obstacle that could have dimmed their light...his eyes remained steadfastly, beautifully bright.

"Almost...done." The words left your lips in barely more than a whisper, gentle and soothing as you finished your careful ministrations. You took a warm, soft cloth and delicately dabbed his face dry, making sure every spot was attended to. You reached for the aftershave, applying it with gentle strokes across his smooth skin.

As your hand came to rest on his cheek, you found yourself lingering there longer than strictly necessary - drawn in by the warmth of his skin, unable and unwilling to break this moment of connection.

Your heart fluttered as you observed how he responded to your touch - the way he ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, pressed his cheek further into your palm, seeking more of that tender contact. It was a small gesture, but one that screamed at you in the quiet of the bathroom.

Focus, focus.

"Now let's see what we can do about that hair." You reluctantly pulled your hand away from his cheek, watching as his expression shifted - his brow furrowing deeply and lips turning downward in a small, almost imperceptible frown that tugged at something deep within your chest. The warmth of his skin lingered on your fingertips, a sensation you tried desperately to ignore.

No, you couldn't feel like this. It was wrong.

Moving behind him, you took to brushing out his hair first. Your hands worked with practice having to do this with your own hair, gently running the brush from the ends and gradually moving higher to ensure the least amount of discomfort when working through the stubborn knots. The methodical strokes seemed to calm you both. He sat perfectly still for you, but you could sense there was more he yearned for in your touch - an unspoken desire that radiated from him in waves.

He wanted you to hold him, to continue the gentle ministrations with his hair just as you were doing now, to show him that tenderness wasn't just a distant memory. Every careful stroke of the brush seemed to remind him of a truth he had long forgotten: that touch doesn't have to hurt, that it could be soft, nurturing, healing instead of harmful.

The man yanked its hair with savage force, causing sharp pain to radiate across its scalp. "I told you not to miss," the handler spoke with a familiar malice that it became familiar with. The spot where its hair was continuously yanked developed that persistent, throbbing ache that it desperately tried to push from its consciousness, knowing any reaction would only make things worse.

It couldn't flinch, wouldn't dare to show even the slightest reaction. HYDRA had made it clear what happened to assets that showed weakness, that dared to respond to discomfort. Even the smallest involuntary movement could result in severe consequences.

A gentle tug of the brush running through his hair pulled him abruptly from the dark memory, your soft and immediate apology working to ground him in the present moment, reminding him he was safe now. "Sorry, just found a stubborn one in here..." your caring voice helped chase away the lingering shadows of the past.

As he sat in the silence of the bathroom, his mind began to wander yet again, drifting through the corridors of his fractured memories like a lost ghost. His thoughts scattered like broken glass, shards between gentler memories with you - moments of peace and quiet understanding - against the more vicious ones that lurked in the shadows of his consciousness. Their dark tendrils constantly tried to wrap around and forcefully pull away all the lighter, precious memories he desperately held onto, attempting to corrupt them in classic HYDRA fashion.

Even still, it held onto him, refusing to let him go.

The soft, ambient light illuminating the bathroom in a gentle, warm glow caught his metal arm at just the right angle, creating a mesmerizing play of shadows across the surface. He found himself caught in an almost trance-like state, meticulously tracing the intricate grooves and carefully engineered plates with his eyes, his gaze tiredly half-lidded as he tried to focus his scattered thoughts by counting how many precise lines were drawn against his titanium forearm.

This handler was different from the others it had in the past.

He was unpredictable in his actions and reactions, displaying a volatility that made every interaction an exercise in cautious observation. It found this characteristic particularly distressing, as it undermined any attempt to establish reliable behavioral patterns.

The man exhibited a jarring duality in his demeanor - he could be loud and openly sadistic one moment, taking visible pleasure in displays of unnecessary cruelty, while in the next breath he would transform into something completely inverted.

His manipulation took on an almost hypnotic quality, reminiscent of a serpent's mesmerizing sway, as he would speak in soothing, honeyed tones while orchestrating harm with calculated precision. Like a constrictor coiling around its prey with deceptive gentleness, he would wrap his victims in a façade of care and comfort, all while administering his particular brand of venom - a poison that worked through words and actions rather than fangs, but was no less deadly for its subtlety.

A snake. That is how it described this man.

Sometimes beautiful to look at, but knowing the true nature of his scales, it knew better.

Then why did it fall for his sweet tone, why did it fall for the gentle touch?

Soldat blinked slowly, struggling to maintain focus on your gentle hands as you carefully brushed through his tangled hair, but he found his troubled mind inevitably wandering back to darker memories.

He ran his calloused fingers through its matted hair, feeling his way until he discovered the painful knot hidden at the base of its skull. His fingertips were uncomfortably warm and sticky with blood, but he purposefully ignored that sensation. He quite liked it, but held his tongue. As he roughly prodded at its injured head, examining the wound, the slight involuntary flinch it gave in response only caused his cruel smirk to grow wider with satisfaction.

He struck without warning or mercy. Like a perfectly trained rattlesnake that had been patiently coiled and waiting for precisely the right moment to unleash its deadly strike.

The handler's iron grip suddenly seized its hair, violently yanking backward with such unexpected force that it actually cried out in genuine pain this time, unable to maintain its usual stoic silence.

Why did it feel so much more vulnerable and powerless with this particular handler?? How did he possess such an uncanny ability to draw out its voice when others could not?

"Goddamn, babe. You're bleeding quite profusely now, aren't you? What did we discuss earlier about this situation, hm? No crying whatsoever. We simply cannot afford to keep weak assets in our organization - you understand that, don't you?" He maintained that eerily gentle tone he typically used when offering comfort to the thing, a purposeful torture that only intensified its mental confusion and emotional distress.

The asset writhed in discomfort, experiencing an excruciating burning sensation across its entire scalp that made it desperately yearn for solitude and rest. Sleep called to it like a siren song, but given its handler's current temperamental state, it knew that such relief would likely remain frustratingly out of reach.

The night before, it had been tasked with cleaning the entire arsenal belonging to the agents - a task that consumed countless hours just to achieve the required gleaming finish on each weapon. Even after completing such an exhaustive task, the asset wasn't granted even the briefest moment of respite, ordered to remain awake as punishment for a small misdemeanor it couldn’t even recall.

It harbored an overwhelming desire to beg for mercy. Every fiber of its being wanted to plead desperately with its handler for some small measure of compassion. However, such displays of weakness were strictly forbidden and promised a horrible punishment.

The soft, rhythmic snip of the scissors cutting through his hair acted as an anchor, helping to ground him in the present moment. You moved with care and gentleness, working to trim his hair back to that familiar length - the same as when you met, falling just shy of his shoulders. Your hands moved with a focused steadiness, fingers carefully carding through the strands while the comb followed in their wake, creating a gentle, repetitive pattern before the precise, delicate snip of the scissors would break through the quiet once more.

He made a conscious effort to focus on the floor tiles now, trying to count the individual squares, to trace their patterns with his mind. But there was only so long he could maintain that fragile concentration before the memory's dark tentacles began to wrap around him, inevitably dragging him back down into those depths he fought so hard to escape.

The comforting rhythm of the snipping gradually faded away, growing distant and muffled, as the harsh, commanding voice of his last handler in HYDRA took over, flooding his consciousness with unwanted recollections.

Hand after hand, yank after yank, a relentless rhythm of violation and control.

A different flavor of foul tasting fluid spread along its taste buds as the asset was kept down on its knees, forced into submission. The men surrounding it formed an impenetrable wall of bodies, barely giving it any room to move or breathe, pressing closer and closer until the weight of their presence crushed against its consciousness. It felt - wait…no. It quickly corrected itself - it didn't feel.

It didn't feel.

It didn't feel.

Bad asset. Disobedient asset. Failure of an asset.

It deserved this. This was necessary for its conditioning and punishment for ever developing feelings. It wasn't supposed to feel humiliation or be opposed to anything they do.

Assets don't have preferences.

Assets don't have desires.

Assets simply obey.

It licked their boots, it let them insert themselves without resistance, no matter how painful it was, no matter how much its body tried to reject the intrusion...it didn't feel. It couldn't feel. Assets don't have the luxury of feelings.

It did feel.

Somewhere deep inside, buried beneath layers of conditioning and denial…it did feel.

The soft shudder that rippled through his broad shoulders suddenly broke your careful concentration, the final decisive snip of the scissors having just been completed moments ago. Your attention immediately shifted from the scattered clumps of dark hair on the floor to his hunched form, noting with concern how he seemed to physically withdraw into himself while perched uncertainly on the weathered wooden stool beneath him.

Despite his imposing physical presence and considerable stature that normally towered over your own frame, he had a peculiar way of carrying himself - shoulders drawn inward, head slightly bowed - as if he were trying to occupy as little space as possible.

"Soldat?" You asked softly, carefully making your way around to face him, your heart clenching at the sight that greeted you. His nose was red and running, skin mottled and blotchy, fresh tears carving glistening tracks down his trembling face. He remained frozen in that tense, hunched position on the stool, head bowed so low his chin nearly touched his chest, eyes squeezed firmly shut as if to block out the world around him.

"Hey, hey...what's the matter? Did you not want me to cut your hair?" You asked with gentle concern in your voice, reaching out with to brush aside the newly shortened bangs that had fallen forward to hide his eyes from your worried gaze. The dark strands were still slightly damp from the earlier wash, sliding easily between your fingers as you tried to establish some sort of connection with him.

You remained in patient silence, giving him the space and time to express himself naturally without any sense of obligation or hurry. Your fingers moved with gentle, soothing motions through his hair in a repetitive pattern, while your other hand occasionally lifted to tenderly dab away the moisture from his flushed cheeks and reddened nose with your sleeve. To your surprise, he accepted these gentle touches without any resistance or signs of discomfort, allowing himself to be comforted by your presence.

"...Н-Нет [N-No]," he finally managed to vocalize after several long moments, his voice emerging fragile and unsteady, trembling with each syllable. Though he had slipped back into his native Russian tongue, you found comfort in recognizing the simple word.

"Can you tell me what it is?" You inquired carefully, your hands moving to cradle his face between them. You made no attempt to direct his gaze upward, instead letting your palms rest against his skin with gentle reassurance, offering silent support through your touch.

He kept his eyes tightly closed, focusing intently on your hands as they rested on his face while your thumbs gently stroked back and forth across his cheekbones. They felt so different from what he had grown accustomed to - gentler, warmer, filled with an unfamiliar tenderness that made his breath catch slightly in his throat.

He remained silent, something you had come to expect from these sessions, though you couldn't help but wish he had grown comfortable enough to open up by now. Still, you quickly pushed aside these thoughts, knowing it was not your place to feel these selfish things when he was still so deeply hurting. No matter how well and gentle you were with your ministrations, you knew this kind of deep-seated pain and suffering wouldn't simply vanish overnight. These wounds needed time to heal, perhaps more time than either of you initially realized.

Your attention was suddenly drawn back up as his trembling hands wrapped around your smaller wrists, the contact unexpected but not unwelcome. The soldier finally opened those glistening eyes - pretty, baby blue eyes that seemed to hold a sea of unspoken emotions within their depths...

"I...I just...want to feel you." He whispered, the soft admission tumbling from his lips like a secret, making your heart equally speed up and ache all at once. His gaze was pleading and gentle, vulnerable in a way you rarely saw, as several strands of his disheveled hair fell into his face when he raised his head to look at you better. "...Пожалуйста [Please]."

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

Cover image from Pinterest. I do not claim as my own.

Taglist: @millercontracting | @teafangirl | @questionableratatouille00 | @buckybarneswife125 | @hazydespair | @leighta | @knoxic | @ghostlyfleur | @beckies000 | @seventeen-x | @freyjhasdesiredreality | @curlycow01 | @blackstabbath6 | @devilslittlehelper | @regics | @honeybee-hayes | @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger | @gabriella-aesthetic | @sapphirebarnes | @animechick555 | @chimchoom | @regics | @frombkjar | @tummyyellin

Let me know if you'd like to be added/unadded anytime.

[revelboo]

if the inbox got that high once, it'll likely get that high consistently, esp as time goes on and ppl have more time to find and read your wonderful writing, try not to pressure yourself and do Not let anyone else pressure you, its a gift that you share your writing, it's your blog and you do whatever you want with it

I have fun writing these, I’m just kinda meh today. I got over 600 before I cleaned it last time but it took 4-5 months to get that bad. Over 200 in less than a month is new lol

18+ Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

You (Don’t) Know Me Pt 9

Insecticons x Reader

• Gently bumping his helm against you as you brush your mouth against his, squirming in his grip until he allows you to free your arms. Not at all surprised when you loop them around his neck. “Drugged me again,” you mumble, lips brushing his as you shift in his lap. Hook your legs around his waist and rock yourself against him. Little hands hanging on to him. And he can scent you. Soft and warm, little heart pounding so frantically.

• “Ask us to go away until you’re not needing us if you don’t like it, then,” he growls. Part of you wants to just to be petty even if you’re aching and uncomfortable. And his mouth slides to your throat, those sharp denta grazing you, gripping you to send a shiver of danger to mingle with the arousal when his glossa slides against you. Gasping when he bends you back, denta pricking you. Threatening to bite. Knowing from what you’d seen when Shrapnel and Kickback had snared you in their sparks that he could hurt you so easily. Knowing how dangerous they all are. That you’re playing with fire.

• A soft hand cups the back of his helm and you rock yourself against him again with a breathless noise. “You said I’d get a reward,” you whisper and he can feel your throat move with the words. The urge to bite into that soft flesh almost maddening, but knowing he wouldn’t stop with just a taste of you. Spike aching where it’s trapped behind his plating, arousal and hunger tangling together. That Shrapnel and Kickback wouldn’t be able to pull him away quick enough if he gave in to that hunger. That he could so easily. His denta sharp enough to slide deep with barely any effort and he knows what you taste like, what soft, warm blooded creatures bleed.

• Shuddering against you, his denta leave your skin and he presses his face against your neck. Venting against your skin, glossa sliding against your neck as Kickback watches, frame tense. Painfully aware that you’re not fully bonded to any of them. That you’re vulnerable. That Bombshell might change his mind and decide you’re more entertaining as prey than as their queen. Singing softly, he moves closer and kneels behind you. Servos curling around your soft neck to protect it as he slides his other hand down your body, drawing Bombshell’s attention. “Sweet, little queen,” he whispers, flattening a palm on your lower belly and encouraging you to lean back against him. “Slick for us,” he adds, cupping you and you make a noise, hips lifting. “Needing us.”

• For a moment, Bombshell tenses like he might lunge after you and Shrapnel goes still in response. Wondering if between himself and Kickback they can keep Bombshell’s claws and denta from you until he comes back to his senses. Remember that they need you. That they chose you and that he and Kickback have made their claims to you, partially bonded you. But Bombshell vents shakily and slowly stretches out between your thighs. “You’re right. I promised,” he snarls, glossa sliding against you. Inside you as you make those soft, needy sounds. As the scent of you fills their den.

• Head back against Kickback as Bombshell’s mouth moves against you, that need and heat go molten in your veins. Whimpering a protest when Kickback catches your wrists in one of his big hands and rests his chin on your shoulder. Watching Bombshell slide his palms under you, lifting your hips to give him better access to you. “Our queen needs to be bonded, bonded,” Shrapnel hisses, settling himself beside Kickback as the other mechs palm cups your throat. Reaching to grip your chin to turn your head so his mouth can claim yours, his glossa stealing inside as that euphoric hum spills through you at their touch. Until you’re bucking your hips against Bombshell’s mouth, whimpering into Shrapnel’s mouth. Needing them, their touch, their scent. Bonded. You remember that. Remember how it had felt when the other two had pinned you between them. Crying out as you shatter against Bombshell’s glossa, his head lifts before he shifts against you. Caging you between all three of them as you writhe and his spike stretches you. Aware that you’re mindlessly begging for them as all three shift the plating protecting their sparks and snare you in the warmth and light of their sparks. Overwhelming you.

Previous

[xavierfan]

SIZE? [CALEB / X.YZ]

warnings: size kink, explicit content, sexual content, pseudocest i guess (i use gege, but as a chinese person i lowkey do not think it's pseudocest but i will still tag it as such...), zayne mentioned, caleb's a fucking freak

summary: quick little blurb about caleb cause he's a freak like me ^^

it wasn't a surprise to find out about caleb's affinity with size in the bedroom. after all, you did grow up with him constantly telling you just how small you were compared to him, him always comparing the sizes of your hands, and him constantly wrapping his fingers around you wrists.

it's just you hadn't expected it to be such a big turn on for him, with the first time you made a comment about how he was so big making him cum on the spot. it hasn't gotten much better since then, instead he now begs you to tell him how big he is, how only he can reach that spot that you like, and how his cock is the only one your plush cervix has ever kissed. he loves pushing his cock into you fully, only to see the bulge he creates in your stomach, pressing down on your soft fleshy abdomen as his hips grind deeper into you, his hips snapping occasionally from just how good you feel.

he loves telling you just how tight you feel, his jaw clenching so hard when you tell him that he's just huge, and how he just fucking disappears into your sopping cunt. his jaw slacks every time as he watches himself sink into you— the sight is just so erotic to him.

"fuuuck," he draws out as he hears you whimper from him putting the tip into your soaking hole, his voice is gravelly as he's taunting you, "fuck, pipsqueak, i'm barely in you, you can't already be whimpering"

you jut your bottom lip out in a pout as you push yourself against caleb, your cunt sucking him in, groaning from the stretch, "ngh, you're just so big... even just the tip is so so good."

to you it's just babble, coherent thought being long abandoned, but to caleb this was like a siren's song. immediately plunging his entire length into you, his balls slapping against the backsides of your legs. he has his hands on the back of your knees to keep them up, alternating between hot and messy kisses with your swollen lips and biting, sucking, and licking at a spot just above your ankles.

"fuck. when'd you learn to talk like this, pip?" he thrusts into you between each word, grunting the question out. his grip tightens on the back of your thighs to the point where there will definitely be a bruise tomorrow but he's happy with that, seeing you all marked up by him.

all you can respond with is a whimper, the fullness causing you to be unable focus on coming up with a quip to respond with, instead you reach your arms around your legs, hooking around them to keep them up yourself. giving caleb better access to drill into you harder, deeper, faster.

instead of feeling his thick tip abusing your cervix, you felt empty. a whine leaving your mouth as caleb slaps his member against your pussy, using his hand to angle his cock in a way where his tip was brushing against your swollen clit. going back and forth between the actions of slapping and soothing your pussy with his cock.

"c'mon pip, tell your gege where you learned this from? who you learned this from?" he asked as he hovered over your body, admiring the view of you holding yourself open for him, "was it zayne? tell me i'm bigger than him baby, tell me only i can make you feel this good..."

you shake your head, your brows knitted together, and your voice shakey, "n-no one gege."

"oh? so you're just a natural fucking slut?" a smirk playing on his lips as he shakes his head, pushing his tip against your entrance, never entering, teasing you, "gran would be so disappointed..."

you groan at his comments, drool pooling at the edge corner of your mouth. when caleb's eyes see the light reflect off the dribble of spit, he cusses, his balls squeezing as he closes his eyes. he just can't believe how good you look under him, how small and meek compared to your usual boisterous and brave appearance, it causes him to dig the heels of his palms into the sockets of his eyes as he continues to rut into your cunt that he was practically drowning in.

he doesn't need to tell you that he's approaching his orgasm, you can feel it, his rhythm becoming a little messy as each snap of his hips feel more deliberate. driving his cock deep into your heat, whining as he pushes himself over the edge.

[sturnlsstuff]

PLAY DATE | matt sturniolo

matt calls you on the telephone, but he feels so far away. he tells you to come over, there's some games he wants to play— you walked into his house, nobody's home. just you and him alone.

— warnings: smut, dom!matt, sub!reader, titty sucking, making out, cursing, matt the munch!!, jerking off, edging, unprotected p in v, creampie... — english isn't my first language.

idea by @splattri !! [ 🔗 ] — hope you like it 😽

you stepped into the house, the front door creaking behind you. matt texted you earlier today to come over, leaving the door unlocked as always. it's been a few days since you last saw him, and your stomach was twisting in excitement, knowing you'll be able to see him again.

the place was strangely quiet, you take off your shoes, going to the living room.

"matt?" you called, voice bouncing off the walls. you pulled off your jacket and tossed it over the couch, glancing around the empty living room. the kind of empty where everything was still, but just a little... off.

"matt, i'm here!" you say loudly again, but getting no answer.

you peered into the kitchen, the hallway, even checked his room, expecting him to play fortnite with his headphones on, which would be a good reason for him not to hear. but matt was nowhere to be found.

"nick? chris?!"

his brothers don't reply either, which really meant the house was empty. a frown appears between your eyebrows, fully convinced that they're just fucking with you. why would matt text you to come over, if there's no one in the house?

then your phone starts ringing in your pocket, matt's contact appearing on the screen.

"matt?" you answered, feeling a mix of confusion and anticipation. "i'm already at your place, where are y—"

"you're down for playin' a game?" matt's voice crackled through the speaker, almost playful. he was calling you on the telephone, yet he feels so far away.

you question him, "a game? where are you? we can play whatever, i just wanna see you—"

"hide and seek. i'll be counting, and you better hide..." he replies, voice light and teasing. "if you make it good, you'll get a reward, but if i find you too fast..."

"then what?"

but then the line clicked off, the call ended. your heart started to race. was he joking? he told you to come over, there's some games he wants to play?

you stood frozen for a moment, looking around the living room like it was some kind of twisted game board. you could hear nothing, but the faint hum of the fridge, and your pulse quickened.

"alright," you whispered to yourself, lips curling into a small, nervous grin. "let's play."

you quickly darted down the hallway, your feet barely making a sound against the wooden floor. you glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting matt to jump out from behind the corner at any second. but the house was still, almost too still.

you ducked into matt's bedroom, glancing at the door as you gently pulled it shut behind you. he probably will think it's too easy here, and will go somewhere else first.

right..?

there was his walk-in closet across the room, dark, inviting. you quickly stepped inside, pushing the clothes aside and settling into the shadows at the back, heart hammering in your chest. the scent of him lingered on the fabric, a mix of cologne and something more earthy—something familiar. your breath caught as you inhaled deeper, the scent filling your lungs, stirring something strange inside you. a warmth that had nothing to do with the game.

but you try to calm yourself, pressing your back against the cool wall of the closet, but the air felt thick with something you couldn’t name. closing your eyes for a moment, you focus on the sounds of the house— the distant creak of floorboards, the soft shuffle of footsteps approaching.

"time's up!" you hear his voice. he finished counting.

matt was moving methodically, his footsteps slow but deliberate, like he knew exactly where you were, but wanted to draw out the game.

"nobody's home, sweetheart," matt's voice slid into your mind like honey, low and smooth. "just me and you alone."

you could hear the playful edge in his tone, but there was something more behind it now, something more intense. it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you swallowed, forcing yourself to stay still, but the tension was almost suffocating.

"i hope you’re not hiding somewhere too obvious," matt's loud voice echoed through the quiet house. you could tell he was going up the stairs.

well—

"is this fun? not knowing what i might do when i find you?"

oh, what the fuck.

your breath caught in your throat, skin prickled with heat as you pressed yourself further into the corner, hoping the space would swallow you up. but it wouldn't— not from matt.

the quiet was suffocating, the only sound in the air was the soft creak of the floorboards beneath his weight. he called your name, but it wasn’t with urgency— it was casual, almost like he was savoring the game.

you knew this tone, the thought of what he will do when he finds you, was at the back of your head— and that only causes a shiver go straight to your core. being friends with matt was always fun, but when you two started hooking up a while ago, that's when the real fun started.

"c'monnn, i'll go easy on you," he drawled, his voice drifting through the empty rooms. “where are you hiding, hm?"

you hugged your knees closer to her chest, biting your bottom lip to keep from making a sound.

he calls your name again, his voice was casual, but there was something dark beneath it. he wasn’t worried, he was toying with you.

you heard him move through the living room, the faint creak of the floorboards giving him away. you could almost picture the way he was moving— slow, careful, like a predator circling its prey.

"y'know, you can't hide from me," his voice echoed in the stillness of the house, sending a shiver down your spine. matt was close, but not close enough. yet. "you're actually doing a good job though... such a good girl."

your stomach makes a flip as you shift in the closet, starting to get uncomfortable— not because of the position you were in, but because his words and this situation in general, was really turning you on.

you could hear him pacing around the house, opening doors, calling your name in that same slow, almost teasing tone. then you hear him stop in the hallway, a pause and silence. you clamped your hand over your mouth, trying to keep quiet. a strange mix of fear and excitement swirling inside you, pressing yourself further into the shadows, eyes wide as you waited. you could feel the tension in the air now, thick and oppressive, the game blurring into something else entirely. the space between you two felt charged, like static before a storm.

you flinch, hearing the sound of him walking closer now, just behind the door. he was checking the bathroom.

then there's only his room left.

you were fucked.

"you couldn't get far..." his voice quieter now. the faint sound of his steps giving him away. and then another pause.

the house got too quiet again, you couldn’t even hear matt's footsteps anymore. the silence stretched on, and your skin started to prickle with unease. was he still searching? or had he stopped looking altogether?

you held your breath, hoping the game would end soon. but the stillness dragged on, the tension building with each passing second. you didn’t know how long you stayed hidden like that, the only sound in your ears was your racing heartbeat.

then, finally, his voice broke the silence, soft at first, but unmistakably near.

"i think i know exactly where you are—"

a soft chuckle echoed on the other side of the door, and then you hear the door handle turning.

fuck.

a soft creak— the bedroom door opening.

your body stiffening, the fear mixing with lust as you realize he's here, in his room.

you can hear his movements, the subtle shuffle of his shoes on the floor, as he circled the room. each step made you feel exposed even if you were still hidden in the dark.

his voice low, almost a growl now, "you're makin' this too easy for me."

matt's footsteps grew closer, now right outside the closet. his voice was lower this time, a whisper, "you think you picked the right place to hide?"

you felt a strange pull deep within you as you pressed yourself into the corner, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. why did it feel like this? the tension, the anticipation— you were caught between fear and desire. a heat that started to burn low in your stomach, creeping up through your chest and settling into your limbs.

he was standing just outside the closet door. the silence was maddening. your heart raced, but you couldn’t look away from the crack in the door, the way the light slanted through it and cut across the floor. was he really just standing there? watching?

"you're here, huh?"

the doorknob shifted slightly, just enough to make your breath hitch. "oh, so stupid, sweetheart..." matt whispered again, and this time, there was something new in his tone. a hint of something dangerous, something hungry.

your hand trembled against the wall, fingers brushing against the cool fabric of his clothes.

“i wonder…” he continued, the words coming slower, like a dark confession, “if you really tried hiding from me… or if you wanted to be found?"

your breath caught as the doorknob turned again, and you froze, your body instinctively pulling into itself, trying to make yourself smaller, less noticeable. but it was too late— the closet door creaked open just a fraction, and the darkness of the closet was shattered by a sliver of light that cut through the room.

matt's silhouette appeared, his form tall and imposing, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. he stood there for a moment, eyes immediately finding you, and it looked like he was savoring the way the air between you two had thickened into something almost unbearable. he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

your pulse raced, the heat in your chest intensifying as his eyes locked onto yours. it was no longer a game. it had shifted. the desire, thick and undeniable, clung to the space between you like smoke.

"there you are."

the silence between you stretched, heavy with unspoken words, and in that space, the air between you crackled with something raw.

you were unable to look away.

"found you," he mutters, reaching his hand out to help you stand up, a small smirk playing on his lips.

you straighten up, the hunger in matt's eyes clear, just as the visible bulge in his sweatpants. "i knew you were here," he says, his voice low and rough.

"why didn't you come here first then?" your voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything that had been building between you two.

"where's the fun in that?"

his hand came to cup your cheek, tilting your face towards his, and without another word, his lips were on yours, urgent and searching. you couldn't stop from pressing closer, kissing him back immediately, your hands curling into the fabric of matt's shirt, pulling him towards you.

the kiss deepens, getting more passionate, his tongue traces the seam of your lips, seeking entrance as his other hand roam your back. matt grows harder against your body, his lips curve into a smile within the kiss as your tongue meets his.

"fuck," he mutters, capturing your bottom lip softly between his teeth, tugging gently.

matt walks you backwards towards the bed, his hands never leaving your body as your lips meet his eagerly again. when the back of your knees hit the bed, he breaks the kiss long enough to push you onto it, your back hitting the mattress, he's crawling over you a second later. "you drive me fucking crazy."

"do i?" you breathe out.

"oh, yeah," he crashes his lips against your again, your hand tangling into his hair as he settles between your legs.

you start to lose yourself in the kiss completely, forgetting about your surroundings and everything expect for him. it becomes messier by the second, his body pressing against yours, and you can feel his hardness against your thigh, even through the layers of clothes.

matt breaks the kiss only to trail his lips down your neck, muttering against your skin, "you think you deserve that reward?"

your head immediately tilts back to give him more access, barely able to process his words, missing the hint of dangerous playfulness in his tone.

"you think you hid well?" his hands on each side of your head as he keeps kissing and sucking along your neck. "that you've won?"

you feel his hand sliding under your shirt, caressing the skin of your stomach.

"i don't know..."

"you don't know?" he repeats with a hint of mockery in his tone, lifting his head up and locking eyes with you. his voice was thick with desire, "did it turn you on? playin' hide and seek with me?" he slips his hand lower, just above the hem of your pants. "'cause if i find you soaked right now, then i'm the winner, baby."

"please, matt..." you whisper, voice trembling with need.

you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the way his eyes darkened with something more urgent. it was as if he could read the need written all over you, and yet he took his time, teasing you with his proximity.

"please what?" he slowly unzips your jeans, sliding his fingers under it just to slightly trace your heat. your panties soaked, just as he thought.

every nerve in your body is on fire and only he could extinguish the flames. your hips lift up from the bed, but he pins them down with his other hand.

"patience," he murmured, his voice low with a promise you weren't sure you could wait for. "so... who won, hm?"

a whine falls from your lips when he starts slowly circling your clit through your underwear, not giving you the pressure you need.

your body throbbed in response, breath coming faster, each passing moment feeling like eternity.

"i'm not gonna give you what you want, if you don't answer," he adds, now sliding down your pants and throwing them aside. a wet stain on the fabric of your lace underwear, making his dick throb at the sight. "shit, who would've known you're into this kinda stuff, huh?"

he slowly takes off your shirt, almost groaning when he sees you have nothing under it.

"matt, i need you..." you whine desperately, but he just smirks, wrapping his lips around your nipple and getting a moan from you. he starts grinding down against you, pressing his hard cock against your wetness through the fabric, smirking against your skin when more whimpers starts leaving your lips.

"matt—" you buck your hips upwards while he sucks on your nipple, and plays with your other breast. tilting his hips, he applies delicious pressure right against your clothed clit, a groan leaving his own lips. "fuck, matt, alright! alright, you won... please..."

he lifts his head up with a satisfied grin, looking at your flushed face.

"and...?"

"and your game did turn me on," you finally admit. "now please, just..."

he licks his lips, his hands already moving to your thighs possessively, spreading them wider. he pulls back, looking down at the wet spot on your panties, growling, "shittt, look at you."

he grabs the edge of your panties with his teeth, making sure to hold eye contact, and starts to slide them off, sending shivers down your body. once you were completely bare, his full of lust eyes stare at the mesmerizing sight— your revealed glistening folds. just for him.

your chest rising and falling rapidly as you watch him laying down on his chest, getting comfortable. a smirk tugs at his mouth as he settles between your thighs.

your body trembled, the heat of his breath against your clit made your heart race. your mind buzzed with lust, when you finally felt him dipping his tongue into your dripping cunt, licking through your folds. immediately a moan leaves you, your hand moves to tangle into his hair. he starts devouring you, licking and sucking, his tongue moving expertly against your most sensitive spots. it was clear he enjoyed it a lot.

matt brings a hand up to spread your pussy lips, giving himself a better access as he pushes his tongue inside your warmth, pressing his thumb against your clit. he moans against you at the taste, the vibrations making your hips buck up.

his tongue now moves to focus on your swollen clit, while his fingers trace your entrance, teasing but not quite penetrating. "you taste fucking amazing..." he mutters against you before continuing. he grips your hips firmly, pulling you closer to his face. his tongue becomes more insistent, lashing against your clit and slipping inside you over and over again. he slides one finger inside your entrance, then another, curling them upward to hit that special spot.

"matt— oh my g— mmgh, fuck...." a choked moan leaves you, the pleasure begins quickly overwhelming you. your eyes roll back as you clench around his fingers, and start grinding against his face, seeking more friction. "i'm really— close— fuuu-ck..."

you become a moaning mess, chasing your release, matt's eyes on you this whole time. your fingers pull on his hair, getting a low moan from him, his tongue delving deeper into your pussy. he can tell you're on the edge, so he adds a third finger, stretching you wide. he can feel you starting to clamp down around him. "oh my god..." another whimper falling from your lips, the wet squelching fill the room as he speeds up the pace of his fingers, sucking on your clit.

but as you are about to come, feeling the orgasm almost crashing down over you, there's quickly a new feeling— emptiness.

you whine, opening your eyes, a frown between your eyebrows as you look down. matt pulled out his fingers, and also pulled back from your heat, his chin glistening with your juices. your high just out of reach.

"matt..."

"told you," he speaks, his voice hoarse with desire as he takes off his clothes in a rush, your eyes watching his every move. "--if you hid good, you'd get what you want..." his boxers joining his other clothes on the floor, revealing his hard dick. he wraps his hand around the base and squeezes, a bead of clear liquid forming at the tip. he was so desperate for you, but it was a part of the game. "--but not only i found you pretty fast, but also it was so obvious where you were this whole time..."

with wide eyes you watch as he props himself on one hand beside your head, locking eyes with you and using his thumb to smear his precum all over his slit.

"you want me to fuck you?" he asks, raising his eyebrows, his hand starts working up and down his length.

you give him a weak nod, eyes locked on your bestfriend's dick. holy shit.

"then you either start begging, or watch me getting off while lookin' at you."

you blink dumbly, looking up and then back down, feeling your throat going dry. he clearly wasn't joking, letting out a low moan as he starts thrusting into his fist, his thumb occasionally brushing against his tip.

"i... already did..."

"do better than that," he replies, watching your face while jerking off. and it was the hottest thing ever. if you weren't so desperate to come right now, you wouldn't even think of stopping him. "beg properly..."

and for a moment you just stare at him, and how pretty he looks like that— jaw slacked, the pink hue tinting his cheeks and hair all messy. his grip tightening as he starts trailing kisses down your neck, whimpering into your ear at the same time. it makes the lust inside you burn hotter, your bottom lip between your teeth as you try to slide your hand down between your thighs, thinking maybe he won't notice, too focused on fucking his hand. but obviously he notices.

he swaps your hand away, biting on your skin instead, and getting a gasp from you.

"that's cheating..." he mutters, his breath hot against your ear. "you keep making it worse for yourself, sweetheart."

"i'm sorry!" you pathetically whine, trying to lift your hips up, his tip brushing against your clit, making the two of you moan at the friction. "please, matt, i'm sorry, i'll do better next time, i— i promise... i will hide better next time, just... i need you so bad— i need to feel you deep inside me, please—"

"you promise?"

"yes, i do," your desperate eyes meet his, he knows you're being genuine, and it also boosts his ego how needy and soaked he can make you.

"that's what i wanted to hear," matt smirks, clicking his tongue against his teeth. he runs his tip through your folds, gathering the wetness. you are so sensitive, almost squirming around on the bed, his touch light and teasing as he rubs the head of his cock against your clit.

it was getting hard to breathe under the sheets with him.

"matt, please, i don't want to play no games..." you mutter desperately, so turned on that you were dripping down your inner thighs. your pussy clenched around nothing, aching to be filled.

he lightly smacks his dick against your heat, getting another whine in response.

"but it's all a game, baby," he whispers into your ear.

then without a warning, finally, he thrusts his cock deep into your dripping pussy with one powerful stroke. you cry out, your walls clamping down around him as he fills you completely. matt lets out a satisfied groan, gripping your thighs and spreading them wider again, pulling your hips forward so he can hit even deeper with each thrust. it's slow at first, wanting you to adjust to his size, but soon enough, he builds up a steady rhythm, his balls slapping against your ass.

the room is quickly filled with the obscene sound of your skin slapping together, and your wetness squelching around his dick, a heat of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks, but you're too far gone to care.

"you're so goddamn wet, jesus christ—" he groans softly, watching your tits bounce with each thrust. "you feel so fuckin' amazing... holy shittt—" he pulls almost all the way out then snaps his hips back in, hitting your g-spot, and getting another choked moan in response. the bed creaks with each movement as your legs wrap around his hips, and you pull matt by his chain into another heated kiss. his tongue dominating yours as he continues to pound into you, feeling you getting tighter and tighter around him, your pussy fluttering.

another whimper falls from your lips, when his fingers start digging harder into your hips. "matt, i... i can't..." you whine against his lips, clenching around his cock again as he picks up the pace, thrusting harder and somehow even deeper.

your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer, nails scratching his back slightly. "you're takin' me so well," he praises, breathing heavily, his hand moving to rub your clit along with his thrusts. "so gorgeous, only for me like this..."

the pleasure was written all over your face— the way your eyebrows knitted together, mouth was slack opened in the perfect 'o' shape, and how you fight with yourself not to close your eyes.

"so... close— mmhp— fuuckk, matt— oh!" you moan louder when he applies more pressure to your clit, your walls starting to flutter, signaling your impending orgasm.

he licks his lips, watching as your eyes roll back, your nails marking his skin. "fuck, you're so pretty when— you're 'bout to cum— fuccckkk, there you go...." he growls, when a wave of pleasure washes over you, your back arching up. you cry out his name, your inner muscles convulsing around his thick length, your warm release dripping down on the mattress. matt wraps his arm around your waist, burying his face between your breasts, his hot breath tickling your skin. "holy shit—" he whimpers, still rubbing your sensitive nub, not slowing down his pace. you saw stars, never coming that hard before.

a weak whimper leaves your mouth, your fingers tangling into his hair as he presses soft kisses against your skin, "m-matt—"

he shushed you, wrapping his lips around your breast again as his dick twitches inside you. the way your nails marked his back, immediately brings him to the edge. "gonna fill this pussy up, yeah?"

"please..."

matt moans around your nipple, looking up at you in the same moment as you look down at him, the eye contact intense. he slams into you one last time, as deep as physically possible. with a shuddering groan, thick spurts of cum flood your dripping cunt, filling you to the brim. he kept the eye contact while coming undone, which only makes you blush more.

"holy fuck," his voice comes out breathy, completely spent but still slowly thrusting to milk every last drop. then once you both come down from your high, he pulls out, watching down as his release leak out of your well-used pussy.

he gives you a quick kiss, a smile lightens up your face, especially when he runs his hand through your hair, looking all pretty. damn, you were just obsessed.

"wanna play again?"

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck @jocelyncsblog @sophand4n4 @giannalovessturniolo @alesturniolos @ilovenmcs @seluky10 @chriss-slutt @ribbonlovergirl @icrazy106 @izzylovesmatt @trevorsgodmother @sturniolo101 @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @bernardsbendystraws

[littlemissgeek8]

I finally, FINALLY had a brainwave on one of these (they're all great, it just takes me a while to think of what to write) and then it took me days to write it. XD Didn't really edit, just plopped it down on the page so hopefully it's coherent.

I went with prompt 4 on the Angst list: Character A has lost an important item to them or it was destroyed. Main, canonical universe (no AU), somewhat post-trespasser (post stopping solas, before the council at the end.)

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The cry ringing through the halls of the Winter Palace steadily rose in pitch before ending in a strangled sob. Varric Tethras lengthened his stride, eyebrows lowered, as he followed the sound down the hall to its source. He'd already been on his way to see the Inquisitor in her guest quarters, but clearly something was wrong. However, no matter how much he wanted to barge in and find out what it was, Varric restrained himself. Instead, he knocked crisply at the door to her room.

"Birdie? It's Varric, may I come in?" he called. A weak, shaky "Yes" came from inside, and he made his way in. Half-sprawled across the grand bed lay the Inquisitor, Darvia Cadash. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face pinched and damp, and somehow she'd managed to change from her field gear into a loose shift. "What's wrong? I heard you yell--"

"Broken." Her voice was thick from crying, and he didn't press for more. His eyes, however, caught sight of a thin wooden box with cloth spilling out, and a messy lump of dark sticks on top. Darvia took a shaky breath. "They weren't supposed to be in my bag, I thought I checked..." Her words melted into a sob.

Varric leaned to the side a bit to look at her face better. "You can get more, nicer ones even!" He tried to keep a soothing edge to his words. Once, years ago, he'd joked to Hawke that he didn't like to see humans cry, but to be honest it was hard with anyone. It was a road full of egg shells and broken pottery, and big negative emotions weren't something he could bluff his way out of.

Darvia shook her head. "It won't be the same, they were mine. And they cost so much..." Varric doubted that, personally. A box of three charcoal pencils couldn't be more than a few gold, even factoring in the different hardness of the pencils. "I had them since Ostwick, they lasted all this time..." There was the missing piece. Even more than the sentimental value, she'd had them since she barely had two coppers to rub together. He nodded.

"I getcha'. Not sure what I'd do if Bianca got damaged. Or my favorite quill." He smiled slightly at her, hoping it might raise her spirits. If anything, it made her sob harder, and he could feel his heart clench in sympathy. All the time he'd known her, she got so attached to her belongings, in a way he'd only felt towards his crossbow. It was confusing and endearing, and she mourned them like a person when they were damaged.

But never quite like this.

"It's not just about the pencils, is it?"

Darvia's shoulders raised as she gulped in a breath of air. Bingo. With soft steps, Varric closed the distance between them and knelt at the side of the bed. Cautiously, he reached out his hand and placed it on her left arm, slowly drawing it down towards her elbow.

And the empty space where her forearm should be.

A choked gasp made him pause. "Does it hurt?" he asked, barely louder than a whisper. Darvia shook her head.

"No. It's just gone." She sniffed loudly as she shifted to look at him. "I have to re-learn so much, what am I going to do without my arm?" Varric pushed himself to his feet and coaxed her into a seated position, before sitting down on the bed beside her. He slid his right arm around her back, pulling her over to his side, a smile flickering across his lips as she snuggled in close.

"That's the thing, Birdie. I know you can do it. You're the Herald of Andraste, after all!" Varric meant it, but he couldn't help teasing as well. Instinctively, he squeezed his eyes shut and wrinkled his nose just in time for his beloved to tap him on the tip of his nose in retaliation. When he opened his eyes, however, a faint smile had found its way onto the Inquisitor's face.

"Alright, that's fair, but you did beat Corypheus, and all those venatori, and the qunari we fought earlier..." Varric continued, drifting off as he watched her gaze drift away, an extra flush adding to the blotchy red on her face from crying. Before she could turn away, he leaned in and planted a quick peck on her forehead. "And I'll be there to help as much as you need it," he said softly, pulling back to meet her eyes.

Her smile drifted to slight confusion as she took in his words. "Varric?" Darvia said with a frown. "But you're the Viscount now..."

That old, cheeky grin slid back into place as he chuckled. "See, that's not the problem I was worried about." He began digging around in an interior pocket with his free hand. Finally, he found what he was looking for, pulling it out in a closed fist. "Nah, the one I was thinking of, was where the shit do I put this thing now?" With his eyes still fixed on her face, Varric opened his hand to reveal a golden ring, glittering with tiny chips of precious stones.

Beside him, Darvia gasped. "Varric!" She gingerly took the ring from his hand, glancing between it and him in shock. "Why did you wait so long to ask?"

Varric threw up his hands, scooting to the side so he could look at her easier. "I tried, I promise! I was trying to get a moment in private when you arrived but Bran kept hovering, and I didn't need him nosing around and making a formal affair out of it!"

"Is that why you gave me a title? And a seat on the Merchant's Guild? And the key to the city?"

"No!.. Yes? Sort of?" He sighed heavily. "I had to give you some kind of title if I was going to go through with this. Herald of Andraste and Inquisitor are fine on their own, but you wouldn't believe how fussy people can get about nobility. And we can skip Merchant's Guild meetings together." A silence fell over the room as his cheeks flushed a bit and turned away. "The key to the city was fumbling," he muttered. Beside him, Darvia broke into unfettered giggles.

He glanced at her out of the sides of his eyes. "So, is that a Yes?"

Darvia continued to giggle. "You didn't actually ask me anything yet."

Tease. Varric raised his hands in surrender, then retrieved the ring from her hand with a teasing grin. He slid off the bed and onto his knees, holding up the ring with a smirk. "Very well. Herald of Andraste, soon-to-be-ex Lady Inquisitor Darvia Cadash, would you do me the honor of becoming my bride?"

"Yes," Darvia said, stifling another giggle. "You know, I thought you'd never ask." She took the ring from him and slid it onto her right ring finger, then she leaned forward to catch his lips in a gentle kiss.

"Good, now can you help me get up? I think my knees are too old for this shit."

Writing Challenge Wednesday:

Yay Wednesday! Let's write! (Btw if you sent a Rook Storytime Ask I'm still working my way through them thank you for being patient, they're actually really helping me flesh out my next story and they're a ton of fun. ) As always on these there is no time limit, tag or link or dm or reblog or comment under this post! No word count either just have fun with it that's what it's here for. I don't have standards for submission take or leave what you want, link your Ao3's, and it's all tagged writing challenge on my page! As long as it gets you writing I don't care and I will share. Let me show you off!!!

Okay I did a really fun self-imposed challenge where I turned fluffy head canons into angst cause I can turn anything into angst if you give me long enough ;) I thought it'd be fun to play with that today so I'm going to give you some fluffy head canons and some angsty head canons and I want you to flip the script and take the mood from fluff to angst or angst to fluff. (Please do platonic relationships as well as romantic if you're so inclined I'm into that)

Fluff:

Character A gives Character B a present.

Character A helps character B with their hair/makeup/outfit.

Character A and Character B want to teach Character C a skill.

Character A and Character B go dancing.

Characters A, B, and C are druuuuuuuuunk.

Angst:

Characters A and B have to go to a funeral together.

Character C has tragically gone missing and A and B have to cope.

Character A has lost someone close to them and can't stop crying. Character B and if you want Character C notices as well.

Character A has lost an important item to them or it was destroyed.

Character A and Character B are fighting for real. Real emotional or physical or both. Perhaps Character C intervenes or they work it out themselves.

Have at it and I will post mine later!!!!!

[wenwenbittercake]

The Velvet Snare 🔥🦌🔥🦌🔥🦌🔥

🦌✨Chapter 1: The hunter’s prey✨🦌 (Warning: Blood, injury, hinting of cannibalism. All in all Sukuna stuff. Y/N in the story have a female's body and addressed as she/her. Sukuna x deer reader)     Loud echo booms in the once peaceful forest. The birds scurry away out of fear, from the loud unnatural disturbance in the forest. The lush greenery and the beaming morning sunlight that passed through trees. A perfect scenery for a gleeful hunt. A hunt for no other than Lord Sukuna himself.

“My lord, I’m impressed how fatigue hasn’t reach you yet.” Said one of the devoted flowers of Lord Sukuna’s cult that clearly looks exhausted said as he gallops along side lord Sukuna who strides through the thigh foliage with bare feet.

Not breaking a sweat as he jumps over fallen logs and obstacles along the way. His laugh booms in the forest after hearing the follower’s comment.

“You should have stayed back in the manor if you can’t accompany me for long.” Sukuna’s pace doesn’t faulter, not caring for the follower that wobbles along from a distance on his horse.

The horse too heaves with exhaustion. For a split second, Sukuna felt empathy for the creature who is forces into the journey by its rider. Yet that empathy is replaced by a sick joy after seeing the exhausted panic look on the rider, who clearly couldn’t keep up with the horse’s speed.

“Not at all my lord, I insist to necessitate you with every need, including the needs that might occurs during your hunt, my lord.”

Sukuna cringe at the follower’s words. How a part of himself felt disgusted by the blind followings of these cult members.

“What if my need is of blood that this hunt can’t satisfy? Will you dutifully present yourself to me?” His last words emphasized with a deep rumbling in his chest. Sending the message clear enough for the follower to advert his gaze and fall slow behind lord Sukuna. Making his cackle at this.

Alone he travels through the thick forest. Deeper he descends into the abyss of trees and unkempt bushes. Only he can traverse these woodlands like his home. Only a beast can withstand the raw nature of it as the galloping of horses of his followers are left behind in a distance to stop. Only then Sukuna let out a deep sigh. Traveling through the woods with efficiency and slowness of a predator. Seeking its prey. The sounds of the forest amplify by tenth fold without the disturbing booming foots steps of his and the galloping of houses. Only now he can hear the sounds of water in a distance. The chirping of wild birds and the distance shifting of leaves from animals. Slowly the tread through the forest with experience. With a bow wielding in one hand with a quiver on his back. The intentions are clear of his role in the forest.

Suddenly, his sharp eyes catch a drift of golden fur. From a distance, a figure of a doe can be made out from its shadows and that fur. A soft majestic fur that he can imagine making into a fur pelt he could used to warm himself in the coming winters. The size of the doe. It’s the largest he has ever seen. He’s sure it’s a doe. Sukuna has hunted many does in the past and this one surely is a doe but even from a distance he can tell it’s the size of a stag. Without a waste of time, Sukuna draws his bow, with precise precision he let goes of his bowstring. A sharp woos can be heard and as soon as the doe heard it, it makes a run but it’s too late. Just missing by a few centimeters, the doe was shot to it’s leg instead of any vital organs. Sukuna wince at the realization that he missed the vitals. Hurting his pride of being the best archer that is ever known. He ready himself to hear the usual cries of a hurt doe but instead, a piercing scream of a woman emerge. Catching himself of guard for a moment. He walk over the bushes where the doe has fallen to find…… a crying women.

No not a woman. A half woman? A curse? He can’t be too sure but he can’t sense any curse energy from what ever this thing is. There lays a woman, her upper body, a woman, yet her lower two legs resemble a doe’s leg. Her feature somewhat resembles of a doe with her ears being of a doe’s ear. Her back and forearms covered in the fur of a deer. Sukuna kneels down in awe in front of the woman. His eyes never left hers as he unplucks the arrow that pierce her thigh. Not even as she cries out in pain in the process of doing so. He only wraps his large palm over her wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

The woman shivers in front of him. The losing of so much blood is catching to her. But mostly from fear. Those red eyes, only a demon could posses so much of them. All four of them, wide and looking into her with so much curiosity and intense hunger that even she can’t understand. And his smile. He smiles with intent, exposing all of his sharp canines and he drools. He drools as if his most desire meal is right in front of him. The man’s…no this beast’s palm that holds tight on y/n’s thigh to stop the bleeding felt more possessive and ill intent than to save her. She felt as if she has unintentionally got herself wind up in the clutches of a predator.

“I mean no harm.”

The deep gravel voice of the beast doesn’t convince Y/N as her vision blurred up. In the darkness behind her eyelids, she could only pray for death as it would be a mercy compared to whatever this beast wants from her waking self.

(Thank you for reading my work. I would like to apologies for any grammatical error or any wording mistake as English is my second language. This isn’t the end as there will be more parts coming up. Please stay in tune by following me and press that notification bell. Your support means a lot to me. 💕💗💕💗💕✨✨✨)

(What Y/N saw before she fainted 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭)

[thebibutterflyao3]

"Victim"

@pandalilymicrofics - 947 words

part twelve - part thirteen - part fourteen

TW: vague mention of foster system abuse, kissing

Dorcas and Lily bantered while Pandora sipped her gimlet. They did seem to get on well together, which was a promising sign. Anyone who met Dorcas’s high standards was someone worth knowing. Pandora was reminded of her own first interaction with Dorcas. 

When she was first introduced to the stunning dark-skinned solicitor in a sharp maroon suit who was to represent her in court, Pandora immediately felt at ease. Compassion filled Dorcas's face as Pandora explained how she'd fallen so far. It was as her solicitor and friend that Dorcas held her hand through all of the public accusations, police interviews, and court proceedings, both figuratively and literally. I don’t know where I’d be without her. She’s never steered me wrong.

“Surely not on a Thursday night,” Dorcas said, glaring at the phone vibrating against the tabletop. She snatched it up and tapped at her screen, then scoffed in disbelief, “They’re having a laugh. An emergency hearing in an hour? Come on!”

Lily’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. “An emergency hearing? For a civil case?”

“Dorcas handles criminal cases too,” Pandora said. 

“I do,” Dorcas agreed reluctantly, aiming a warning look at her. “This one is civil though. It’s a custody case.”

Pandora closed her mouth and busied herself with looking through her purse. She knew better than to involve herself with public conversations about Dorcas’s work. Inevitably she’d overshare from her own experience in the legal system and draw far too much attention to herself and Luna. It was better to keep her thoughts private. 

“That must be heartbreaking, working on the custody cases,” Lily said sympathetically. “I can’t imagine how scared the children must feel.”

“Terrified,” Pandora bit out, immediately regretting the outburst. Quickly, she rallied herself to explain away the bitterness resonating in her voice. “I mean, I’m sure they’re terrified. Being separated from their families and everything they know? Who wouldn’t be?”

Thankfully, if Lily noticed, she seemed to agree wholeheartedly. She nodded with a deeply compassionate expression on her face. “I’ve heard of children removed for their own protection who were placed in equally bad homes at the hands of the court as well. It’s always the victims who bear the brunt of the consequences, isn’t it?”

Dorcas cleared her throat roughly, her accusatory glare boring a hole through Pandora’s head. “There is no good answer, I’m afraid. Often, family members are unwilling or unavailable to take in a child temporarily. It’s an unfortunate situation all around.”

“Yes, well,” Lily said, shaking her head. “I don’t envy you, Dorcas. It would break my heart to hear those testimonies.”

“Someone has to fight for them,” Dorcas said simply, sliding out of the seat and straightening her tie. “I hate to leave you on such a morose topic, ladies, so allow me to redirect before I go. I have had the distinct pleasure of snogging both of you in the fairly recent past, so perhaps you should compare notes. I’d appreciate any feedback you’d like to provide.” She winked and walked away with the smug confidence of someone who knew the effect she had on people.

Lily blinked slowly as she watched Dorcas leave. “How…How does she do that? Be so effortlessly sexy after talking about…that.”

“She’s an expert at compartmentalisation, I suspect,” Pandora said, finishing her drink. “I think I need another, do you?” 

“Sure.”

Once the next round of drinks were finished and the conversation had lightened significantly, Lily moved to sit beside Pandora with the excuse, “It’s so loud, I can barely hear you in here.” Pandora was beyond pleased she did because amidst the subtle flirting, which became overt flirting, Lily had shifted close enough to rest her arm on the back of the booth behind Pandora’s head. It wasn’t a sly move either, since Lily asked, “Is this alright?” before she did it. 

There's nothing sexier than a woman who values consent.

It was a forgone conclusion for their conversation to circle back around to snogging Dorcas. Lily admitted to a snog in the back of the pub a month prior and Pandora to snogging Dorcas after watching a sad movie together in an empty theatre. 

“Friendly snogs are often the most comforting, don’t you think?” she asked.

Lily’s lips twitched with amusement, as they often did, Pandora noticed. It was as though her humour was surface deep and eager to escape. “I do. Although I can’t say I’d mind snogging someone new, for comparison purposes, you understand.”

Pandora took the invitation for what it was and leaned in. “If you’re looking for a volunteer...”

“Oh good,” Lily sighed, closing the distance between them. 

Lily’s lips met hers like a rolling wave crashing onto the beach, overwhelming Pandora with the taste of her cosmopolitan at first, then sinking into a soothing rhythm as she teased and taunted with each stroke of her tongue. Her arms wound around Lily’s waist as soft palms cradled her own face in glowing warmth.

Pandora couldn’t hold back if she tried. The delicious shivers of pleasure that Lily’s touch elicited were an epiphany of sensations. Cloud my moonstone mind with your lips and cradle my rose quartz heart in your gentle embrace.

A traitorous past whose clawing fingers had scraped her bones raw was banished to the shadows lingering around the fringes of her soul. Her doubts and fears dissolved into the ether. In Lily’s arms, Pandora felt whole, unbroken, and protected. She was a captured faerie in no hurry to find freedom in the wilds of the lonely world she left behind. Here, only she and Lily existed. Here, her burdens felt light. Here, Pandora’s bruised and battered heart fluttered with new life.

[gretavanflame]

Selfish Touch

Jake Kiszka x Reader (f)

Cw: SMUT including: mutual masturbation, overstimulation, nipple play, hickeys, toys, blindfold, biting, kissing, light choking (this one is lightly edited so I apologize for any mistakes)

Summary: “Okay so” he lowers his voice, acting as if there are other people that might hear and be scandalized by his next words. “I got this… sort of arousal gel, if you wanna try it.”

Word Count: 2.5k

Jake peppers little kisses from your jaw to your neck, stopping short of your exposed breasts. Your cheeks burn from smiling and the touch tickles, making you squirm over the sheets.

“Jakeee, come on!” a giggle bubbles out of you, laced with a moan as his lips wrap around your skin to nip softly at it.

“Just be patient,” he purrs, nuzzling his nose just below your ear. 

You gently pull him off of you, taking his head in your hands to shake it side to side. “I’ve been patient! Just tell me the surprise!” 

He steadies himself with his hands on the bed, beginning to rise as he holds back a smile. His pressed lips crack after a beat, showing you his perfect pearly whites.

“Okay pretty girl” he whispers, sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes drink you in as he stands, looking you up and down while his lips curl in mischief. Jake turns to rummage around in his dresser as heat rushes to your face.

You settle into the pillow, resting your hands on your stomach, watching dreamily as the muscles of his bare back flex and twist. His butt looks pretty cute in his underwear too, you think. 

Your mind wanders back to the last couple hours. The two of you- free of obligations for the day, tangled up in each other, mostly naked, whispering and giggling between soft, lingering kisses. The domesticity isn’t new to you, but the comfort is. His gaze doesn’t make you feel judged, his jokes don’t make you feel hurt, and his presence is always welcomed. In fact, he’s the first person you like being on display for, just like you are now.

He pulls a few items from the drawer then swivels around quickly, hiding them behind his back as his face holds an intriguing secret. He saunters back with the same lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Now y/n” he warns, settling himself back on top of you so that he straddles your waist, being careful to put most of his weight on his knees. “This is your job, okay? Your steering wheel. You’re the captain babe.” 

Jake reveals the first item. Your vibrator wand. You squeal and reach for it, smiling bashfully as the anticipation spreads across your skin like a million tiny needles.

“Okay, what else what else!”

He chuckles, finding your impatience adorable. “So I ordered something online, and it finally came. It’s something I’ve wanted to try for a while…” he pauses, eyes flicking up to yours, garnering suspense.

Your eyebrows raise and you nod for him to go on. 

“And it may seem like this is for you, but just know… this is entirely for my benefit.”

“Okay…” you laugh, genuinely confused.

“Okay so” he lowers his voice, acting as if there are other people that might hear and be scandalized by his next words. “I got this… sort of arousal gel, if you wanna try it.” He chews on his lip, watching you intently to try and gauge your reaction as he hands you the clear bottle to inspect.

You can feel your heart thumping in your ears as you read the label. Excitement surges through you, although you try to play it cool. Jake watches you through lidded eyes and you can feel him hardening when he shifts his body over you. You look up to see its full outline through his tight boxers, and it looks swollen and aching. You wish desperately to taste it- feel its hot skin against your tongue. 

You smirk and look back at him with an eager nod.

“Andd…” he lilts, drawing out every drop of anticipation before leaning in and lowering his tone to a sultry mumble, right against the shell of your ear where you can feel his hot breath, “I got the edible kind.”

Another schoolgirl giggle trills out of you. “Of course you did Jake.” 

He smiles bashfully, pulling the third item from behind his back. He secures it in his fist and holds it out to you. You open his fist to find some balled up black cloth. 

You tilt your head in confusion and he looks amusedly back at you while you realize what it's for.

“Ohh. Ohhhh.” 

Jake's previous playful demeanor shifts to one of lust, and his voice drops again, “Do you trust me angel?”

“Yes Jake. I do.”

Jake brings the cloth up to your face, winking right before your world turns black and you feel his hands tie a knot behind your head. Just as he does so, his lips press firmly into yours and you kiss him back with a smile that stays glued to your face even after he pulls away. 

You make yourself comfortable, cheeks flushing red as you wait eagerly for his instruction.

Jake helps your wandering fingers find the button on the side of the vibrator. The toy whirrs to life and he scoots forward so that his clothed cock rests above the thin fabric covering your clit. His cock hardens as he grinds himself against you and you both let out a satisfied hum. 

“Make us both feel good, y/n.”

You bring the toy down to where your bodies meet, jolting as it hits your clit. You press it into the fabric, sighing at the immediate pleasure that washes over you. You feel Jake relax into the vibration, adjusting himself so that the underside of his cock lines up with the head of the toy. 

Jake places one hand firmly on the curve of your waist as his opposite hand opens the bottle with a click. Jake lets a bit of the gel drop over your nipple. 

“Ooh that's cold” you coo softly.

The pad of his thumb spreads the gel around in small circles over your hardening nipple. He massages your breast as his other hand slides up your body, stopping at your other. 

The gel is rubbed into your skin, leaving one boob feeling significantly colder than the other. His other hand squeezes the opposite breast, kneading the tissue gently, but with a softness that relaxes you. 

He takes his time, letting his hands feel every inch of your chest, and you realize then what he meant when he said this was for his benefit. After a few moments of his self indulgent touch, he puts the gel right over your other nipple.

You jump again, having not expected the sudden temperature shift. “You have to warn me, Jake” you chuckle.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” He questions, the smirk evident in his tone.

You focus your attention on the vibrator, feeling it soothe and rile you up all at the same time. You decide to have a little fun of your own, placing it on top of his cock, moving it up and down, trying to tease him. You move blindly, and unsure if you’re hitting the right spot, but you know you are when you feel him twitch against you. A clipped grunt escapes him.

You rub slow circles over him and he whimpers so softly that you wonder if you’ve imagined it. Your body reacts viscerally, stomach muscles contracting and core clenching. You can feel the vibrations through his body. They hit you softer, making you crave the feeling even more.

You find the side button, bumping it up to the next level as the vibrator rests right on him. You jump as you feel his hand grip your wrist tightly. He moves the toy back over to your clit.

A guilty smile appears on your face.

“Sorry…”

You begin to grow accustomed to cold air hitting your wet skin. Instead of the sensation being cold, it's more of a slight tingle. His hands continue to massage you in loose circles, and it’s then that you question whether or not this stuff works.

Just as the thought crosses your mind, with no warning, Jake’s calloused fingertips pinch both erect nipples. The pain shoots right to your core and your back arches off the bed, pulling a desperate moan from your lips- one you didn’t know you were capable of making. 

Jake’s voice rushes out, so thick with lust, it sounds like he’s experienced the feeling himself, “Did that feel good?”

“Yes” you gasp, chest rising with each breath. “So good, I don’t even- I don’t know. Just do it again, please.”

You can almost see the smirk on his face as he pauses his movements, opting instead to go back to his hands slowly caressing you. You only realize after a few seconds how hard you’re biting your lip. You release it from your teeth, and he does it again. 

The pleasure blooms and shoots all over you, shocking you with its intensity. You can feel yourself gushing already as the toy whirrs over your sensitive clit. You can hear Jake’s own labored breathing, and you imagine what he looks like- sweaty and flushed with desire.

“Oh my god…” you moan, still reeling from the sudden touch.

“You’re so fucking sexy, y/n…” Jake’s voice trails off, making him sound out of breath.

His fingers trace both areolas at the same time- the touch so light compared to before that you’re practically pushing your chest into it. He rolls his knuckles over the hardened buds, going slow and gentle. 

He lets his hands wander, running them up and down your stomach, to your waist, to your neck. You feel the tiny thrusts of his hips as he grinds himself into the vibrator and you. One hand slides up to your neck, wrapping it around to put slight pressure on the sides as his thumb rubs over your Adam's apple.

“Fuck” you whimper.

You feel him shift, and seconds later something warm and wet glides over your nipple. You moan loudly, as your body jerks forward. 

“More” is all you manage to say when his tongue laps over you again. 

It’s a new feeling, and in contrast to the gel’s coldness it feels like fire. His hand wraps around your breast, holding it in place so his tongue can come down to deliver slow laps. His tongue lingers, circling around your nipple at a pace so slow you swear he’s trying to kill you. Your legs tremble as you move the vibrator, hitting a new angle that pulls you steadily closer. 

Jake lets go and blows cool air directly on your wet skin. He connects his lips, parting them to take your nipple in his mouth where he sucks it harshly. He releases it, making a loud squelching sound.

“Your tongue feels so good Jake” you manage to mumble, voice coming out shaky.

“My cock is so hard right now. I fucking want you.”

Jake secures his mouth on you again, this time letting his teeth lightly graze you. A whimper, unforgivingly high pitched floats off your tongue, but there’s no room to feel ashamed when he does it again to the other. 

He spoils you, licking and sucking your nipple until you feel yourself right on the edge. He stops. A second later a ball of spit lands to the right of your breast and he runs his tongue along, bringing it right to the center of your nipple. Just the tip of his tongue flicks over you while his fingers pinch and squeeze at the other. The contrasting sensations blend together perfectly and you moan again.

You feel his hips start to rock harder, just enough that you start to pick up on it. He groans around your nipple, sucking it hard enough to elicit a hiss from your gritted teeth. You start to move the vibrator in small circles over your clit as you feel your orgasm approaching.

Jake senses the shift. His mouth crashes against your skin, licking and sucking faster. He moves back and forth from each breast, leaving no time for you to adjust to the different feelings. He pushes his hips along you harder. Absentmindedly as he bites your sensitive bud again. 

“I’m gonna cum..” your voice trails off, chest lifting off the bed once more.

Jake lays his tongue flat, running it along your nipple one final time while his hand squeezes your other breast. With one loud groan vibrating your skin, you break apart. 

First it's your legs that start to tremble. Then your mouth gapes open and your eyes roll back. It’s more intense than any other orgasm you’ve ever had. The stimulation from his tongue bursts forth unexpectedly. It comes from a place settled so deep inside you when it finally hits the surface. You can feel your pussy clenching and contracting as your legs try to open, with Jake still clamping them shut.

He grabs the toy out of your hand, bumping up the setting and forcing it closer to your sensitive clit. You cry out, rocking on the bed as your hand tries to push him away. You sound broken as you moan his name over and over, desperate for some type of mercy. Finally he lets go and the toy falls to the bed beside you. 

Your whole body feels numb, but alive as Jake kisses your chest once more. His tongue is careful as he trails his lips back up to your face. They land back on yours and you part your lips. He kisses you deeply, both of you moaning into the other. His tongue licks along the inside of your mouth and yours kisses into his. His hand cups your jaw as he draws out the kiss. He releases your lips as his hand lazily pulls off the blind fold.

The light hits your eyes harshly and you open them to find him smiling back at you. A sheen of sweat paints his hairline and his eyes look tired, but satisfied. 

“Hey, how are you?” he asks all too casually.

You laugh, pushing his shoulder as he climbs off of you. Your breath is still uneven as you look down at the scene before you. You feel your soaking wet underwear, and your sore chest that's wet with his kiss. 

Jake falls into the bed beside you and you turn to climb on top of him. He instantly grabs your thighs, running his hands up and down them. You bite your lip as you gaze at his beautiful face. He catches your eyes, dropping his to smirk at your chest again.

“Hey, do you need to be anywhere important tomorrow?” Jake asks.

You squint your eyes accusingly before asking with a certain air of caution, “Yes… why?”

“Oh ok… ok. That’s fine. You do happen to have some nice turtlenecks right?” Jake's cheeks flush as he smiles a guilty smile.

“Jake!!” 

You scramble off the bed to look in the nearest mirror. Mouth dropping as you see at least 20 tiny red circles decorating your neck and chest.

You take a deep breath, turning cooly back to him. He looks almost frightened as you put on a smirk yourself.

“Pay back time” you state as your lips find him.

.

.

.

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[whenhypen]

if you're not living like a fish, are you even living?

leehan x gn!reader, 974 words now playing- waiting by woodz content warnings: undefined relationship (could be read romantically or platonically). mention of wearing a tux. heaving mentions or eating, snacks, and food.

(masterlist)

author’s note: I know the leehan fish trope is kinda overdone but I think this is cute :(

The kitchen, as always, was a mess. The walls were lined with mismatched mugs and a mess of dishes, a testament to six young boys sharing the apartment. It wasn’t anything special—just a cozy space where meals were quickly prepared between dance practices and late-night video game sessions. But tucked away in the kitchen was a quiet little oasis: a fish tank.

It was a simple setup, nestled on a crowded counter, but it had a way of drawing your attention whenever you passed by. The soft bubble of the filter, the flickering of the fluorescent light above, and the rhythmic movement of the corydora fish, as they swam in sync, made it feel like a world of its own. The tank became a small, peaceful getaway for anyone who cared to stop and watch.

Today, though, it wasn’t just the fish you were watching. 

Leehan was perched on a stool beside the tank, looking more relaxed than usual. His fingers hovered above the water, ready to drop in the flakes of fish food. The corydoras, as if anticipating him, crowded to the surface almost immediately.

"I swear, they act like they’ve never been fed," you said, leaning against the counter next to him, watching the fish bounce around excitedly.

Leehan glanced at you, barely containing a grin. "They’re just….passionate about their snacks. Can you blame them?"

You smirked. "If I had that kind of enthusiasm for food, I’d probably be doing better in life."

"Honestly, same," Leehan replied, shaking his head. "If I could live like them—eat, swim, repeat—I’d be a lot less stressed." He dropped the food into the tank, and the fish immediately rushed toward it in a flurry of fins and bubbles.

You watched the chaos for a moment, amused. "I wish I could live like that too. Just, you know, eat snacks all day and not worry about anything else."

Leehan turned to you, his eyes lighting up with an idea. "You could. You know, just embrace the corydora lifestyle. Find your calm in the chaos. Forget all the overthinking and just... snack."

"Yeah, but what if the snacks aren’t good enough?" you teased, tapping your chin contemplatingly. "What if the snacks are disappointing? What then?"

Leehan leaned in, pretending to be deeply philosophical. "That’s when you just... keep eating until you find the right snack. You don’t give up. You go for it, full force."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "You’ve got a weirdly optimistic way of looking at life."

"It’s the corydora mindset," Leehan said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything. He sat back, watching the fish fight for the food like it was their one chance for a meal.

You thought for a moment, leaning back against the counter. "You know, I bet they have zero concept of what it means to save food. They don’t ration. They just eat."

Leehan nodded in agreement. "Exactly. No regrets. They’re not overthinking it. They see food, they go for it. That's the dream."

"Just like that," you said, holding up a chip from your own snack stash. "No regrets, right?"

Leehan smiled, looking at the chip in your hand like it might be the secret to unlocking eternal happiness. "Exactly. If you’re not living like the fish, are you even living?"

"That’s some deep stuff," you said, acting impressed. "You should put that on a shirt. Maybe with a fish and the words, 'Snack like you mean it.'"

Leehan smiled, eyes bright with excitement. "I’m so down. I’ll design it. I already have the font in mind."

You leaned closer to the tank, eyes narrowing as you watched the fish fight for the food. "I still can’t get over how hungry they always are. They’re like, the definition of excessive when it comes to snacks."

"They’re just really devoted to their food," Leehan replied, dropping more flakes in. "Maybe we could learn something from them. Like, how to truly appreciate the snack moments."

You smirked. "Yeah, but I think I’d pass on the whole ‘swarm everything in sight’ part. I like to eat my snacks with a little dignity."

Leehan raised an eyebrow, seemingly offended. "Dignity? When’s the last time you ate a snack with dignity? I’ve seen you scarf down pizza like you’re in a race."

You gave him a playful shove. "Okay, rude," you said, laughing. "But I do have standards. I’ll eat my snacks with dignity, just like I’d eat a meal at a fancy restaurant. The only difference is, I’m probably in sweatpants instead of a tux."

Leehan chuckled. "Honestly, though? That’s the real move. No need for tuxes or fine dining when you’ve got snacks. Just a comfy outfit, your favorite chips, and a good time."

You stared at him for a moment, suddenly realizing how seriously he was taking the whole "snack philosophy" thing. "I think you’ve cracked the code. This is the way."

Leehan looked at you with a smug grin. "I told you. Live like a corydora. Snack without fear. Eat without regret."

"Alright, Leehan, I see you," you said, impressed. "I might just have to take a page out of your book. I’m about to go full corydora on my next snack."

"That’s what I’m talking about," Leehan said, giving you a thumbs up. "And if you ever need a motivational speech, just hit me up. I’ve got the fish wisdom to take you to the next level."

You both laughed, and for a moment, the world outside the kitchen seemed to fade away. It was just the two of you, the corydoras, and the endless possibility of snacks.

And maybe, just maybe, Leehan had a point. Life was a little easier when you weren’t overthinking it. Just grab your snacks, enjoy the moment, and let everything else float by like the bubbles in the fish tank.

[justabeewithapen]

What crayons do u use to make them look so bright?

The crayons I use are crayola, but most of the colored pieces I have posted recently are actually color pencil! Brand is Castle Arts, but the time of day I take my photos and photo editing do most of the heavy lifting!! I'll try to show off in an example:

Here is a photo of my Doey Play-doh drawing right now (my very yellow light in my room after dark):

The color’s aren’t too bad but obviously everything is tinged yellow and it looks kinda wonky! This is why after a certain time of day I can’t post my traditional art anymore because all my photos turn out like this.

Here is the photo I took earlier today, entirely unedited (in-direct sunlight from my window). I find around 11-4 has the best lighting from my window. You want indirect sunlight because if it is directly on the piece you get a nasty glare! Cloudy days can actually be really good for photos.

Our colors are looking much clearer, but they are still kinda washed out compared to how they look in person. Now, this is where photo editing comes in! I use the filters built into my phone to adjust my photos after I take the picture, usually I do it pretty subtly just to boost colors but sometimes I like to be more exaggerated (like with this drawing, this is the same photo as above but after I have done some photo editing)

I tend to click the “auto adjust button” then tweak it from there until I think it looks right! The auto adjust button is nice because it gives you a good place to jump off of when tweaking. Photo editing is a MUST for traditional art because unless you have a really really good camera (and even then) the photos will never be quite as vibrant as the actual drawing. Sometimes I tend to undertune or over tune photos as my phone screen shows colors very differently from my monitor (I think both are wrong TwT) and I have to find a happy middle ground. For this piece here I think I over adjusted and you can almost see a faint red tint.

Knowing the right time of day to take photos for traditional art is super helpful, but photo editing is absolutely game changing!! There are a ton of tutorials out there if this is something you have the desire to learn, and phones come built in with photo editors in the photo apps so you can play around with those too!! (There are also plenty of free tools for it as well, I like using Lunapic personally on my computer). I hope that helps answer your question! Getting a decent photo of your traditional art is a skill in its own right, I am still just barely getting the hang of it! For the longest time my main goal was making sure my art looked crisp (most of my photos came out fuzzy) but I am working on color quality more!

[gotwcird]

immediately, he notes the way daphne's voice softens. enjoys how she reacts — the way her head tips back, how her breath deepens. likes that he's eliciting responses like this already, having just barely teased her. the excitement goes straight down to his groin. "i agree, you should be rewarded," yasir murmurs under his breath, eyes flitting steadily between her face and the way she spreads her legs. every movement from her is hyptonizing. at her call, his fingers slide over from her thigh to press into her core, putting pressure where he knows she must be aching. he feels the heat of her even through her underwear and it makes him suck in a breath. "you've been pretty patient with me, huh?" it's almost a tease, but not quite. more like an observation, a quiet apology, earnest and yet knowing. it never fails to floor him that he makes her feel this way. he starts to press firm circles into her. still just over the fabric, just enough that he can feel her clit with the motion, wants to see what more he can draw out of her. his next words come out soft. "god, daphne, you're dazzling."

“maybe,” daphne echoes, though she sounds a little softer. a little further away. as cool as she’s trying to play this she still has needs. needs that he starts to address as his hand moves up her thigh. her head tips back for a moment as she breathes deeply. refusing to become too carried away. she’s been needy enough already; waiting and wanting this since she approached him. he must be able to feel it — the heat beneath the fabric of her underwear. “i think my achievements mean i deserve a reward, don’t you?” she spread her legs a little bit, causing the material of her skirt to bunch up around the top of her thighs but it allows her to see the image of his fingers teasing where she needs him. “yasir,” she breathes his name, “touch me.”

[wishchip106]

my beautiful wife 😻😻🥰🥰🤭

AND HIS UGLY HUSBAND ❌❌😾😾👎👎

[malenjoyer]

Hello! I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but I just wanted to tell you about how your style has inspired me so much!! Probably an ask you’ve gotten a lot, but I just have to know; how do you go at line work? It looks so good when you do it. Like, you’ve perfected where to leave gaps, what should be thick and thin, what should be subtle shading, etc. I’m so jealous! Do you have any suggestions on how to improve in this area? I’d love some insight!!

Thank you! That's very unexpected to hear but also kind of nice! :D That's the first time anyone has said that to me.

For line weight, Mark Morales covers it very well here

Aside from using line weight to show light source, you can also use it to emphasize stuff, which is what I like doing. I think it's essentially the same logic though- I just bend the rules often to make it work the way I want it to. Lots of trial and error and fixing stuff.

As for the gaps, I don't really know how to explain it without sounding a little weird. I think it's just something I developed as a habit where areas where you're supposed to connect with thin lines, I just don't finish it. Most of the time I don't finish my lines, because I don't need to. I live and embrace the karma of not connected line art when I color it.

I think my style boils down to How do I draw good with the least amount of work which sounds questionable, but the less I focus on whether each individual line connects or looks good, the more stamina I have for the rest of the drawing.

If you've got this hamster, you're like 60% of the way there.

Real answer: probably try doing gesture drawings with the least amount of lines possible with 2 minute timer to simulate what happens in my brain when I do line art. you can try to apply the line weight stuff and think okay where would I apply thickness to show shadow or emphasize curves

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pictures and things

[sysig]

Bad time of it, all things considered (Patreon)

[medicinemane]

Really really don't get why so many people seem to have this burning hatred for Ukraine where they'll just... bring them up randomly purely to drag them through the mud and it's like... ok... but... do you actually know a single thing about Ukraine or what's been happening there?

Do you for instance remember when a major dam was destroyed by russia causing massive ecological damage?

Like I'm dead serious here, can you tell me a single thing that's happened in Ukraine in the last 2 years? Can you in any way demonstrate any basic understanding of the situation?

Cause if not... why do you think you should have an opinion on it, especially if your opinion is gonna be how awful people getting bombed are?

Just legit bothers me and... even more so bothers me the number of smart and caring people I see doing this. Basically I'm not even trying to be rude here, I'm trying to remind you to pay attention and remember that not everything you read on the internet is true, a tumblr post isn't a source unless they're giving you a reputable source

Cause like me? I can go track you down articles about the Nova Kakhovka dam being destroyed, and I can talk about all the reason why it's pretty clear that russia destroyed it

Can you do the same for me? Can you back up your claim about Ukraine with something concrete?

In many ways I'm not even asking you to support Ukraine, I get we have a limit to how much we can focus on, it's ok if you focus on your cause and I focus on mine and... both of us giving our undivided attention, maybe we both make some small impact on the world

What I'm asking is you don't be an asshole for no reason. You don't need to throw Ukraine under the bus. Don't you think your cause stands up on it's own two feet?

And again I'm not Ukrainian, I don't know as well as someone there, though... I spare you a lot of the stuff that crosses my dash because I don't want to burn people out with horrible stuff, but please understand it's worse than you probably think

So no, not Ukrainian, but I'll tell you why I'm still worth listening to: I've followed this every day since the invasion began. I keep my ear to the ground. I do know a fair bit and again can back what I have to say up

Anyway, my plea is to just not be a dick to people for no reason. The correct number of bombed civilians is zero, that's my stance