#i had to see them all together to visualise it

[wiiwheel]

fancasting "the brony gang" or "#seniorsthatdontgivea****"

[starshipsofstarlord]

surrogate comfort

summary. daryl comes to your home, finding peace between your legs before you relieve his homeward bound struggles

warnings. smut (just a little fem!reader receiving oral), angst, mentions and descriptions of abuse, commitment, young!daryl

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

An undeniable sensation pooled in the apex below your abdomen, causing your eyelids to flutter slowly open from your slumber. Your brows drew firmly together as your mouth gaped wildly open, releasing silent sounds of pleasured expression. But you were forced by the consuming reality in your brain to push the face that rested against your thighs, and the heavenly lips that had already landscaped the area of your cunt in prior situations.

Daryl hadn’t fallen asleep beside you, he had sullenly returned to his poisonous putridity of his home the eve before, dreading his father’s exploitive rage. As much as you wanted to continue receiving the fantastic oral that he was perfectly tainting your body with, you were commended by your saint lifestyle to shuffle away, rejecting his efforts of keeping his face attached to your most intimate area.

“D.” You addressed him by the initial, reaching beside you to pull at the dangling string of your bedside lamp so that the bulb would create an ambience that would aid your eyesight, rather than squinting in his direction through the consuming darkness. Daryl melted his face in the tousled sheets that rested raggedly beside your legs, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

He just wanted to see you, and get lost in one of his all time hobbies so that he wouldn’t need to bring acknowledgment to the repetitive reason as to why he had snuck in your home with the key that you had gifted him in the dead of night. “Daryl… look at me honey.” With concern filled empathy, you combed through his brunette locks with your fingers, squeezing your thighs together so that he wouldn’t be able to visualise his sacred escape for the moment.

This was important, far more important than any sexual activity. It took him a couple of minutes to finally build up the strength to comply with your soft demand; you weren’t forcing him, he was well aware of that fact, however he resented skulking away from your embracing and delicate nurturing, and thus he drew his face upwards, his blue and bruised eyes connecting with your orbs that unfortunately did not hold shock.

His father was sadistically cruel, he never let up on a chance to unleash his pent up frustrations and anger out on his sons, it was why Merle had joined the military - to escape the man that had raised them without any aspect of love. It didn’t matter that you were half nude due to his skilful appearance, you shuffled down the bed towards him, crossing your legs as you brushed your fingertips across his shoulder that was clothed in a shirt made of tired fabric, and he restrained a wince.

“Oh honey.” You cooed, seeing a horizon of purples and blues and deepening greys that harshened his features. “You can stay here, for as long as you need. I’d hate for you to keep going back there, so…” You braced yourself to say the words aloud, aware that Daryl was a young man whom was easily shaken. “Why don’t you move in?” You would never hurt him, emotionally or physically, no matter what situation that you found yourselves in.

Your blood boiled like there was a stove interlinking your veins to your arteries as you thought of any man bringing such abuse upon their child, but especially horrid old William and his treatment of Daryl. The bruised son’s lips conveyed his emotions in a wobbling manner, as he allowed his well constructed walls to lower, and water glazed in his eyes. He held you, and sobbed, and sobbed, until he was all out of frustrated tears, and you knew then, he would be using that silver key every day.

[atydblack]

"hands"

professor remus lupin x reader

masterlist (requests are open!)

heres an older remus x reader fic! pls send in some requests like give me a character and a kink or an idea and ill try my best to write it <3 warnings: smut, age gap, professorxstudent (consenual) MDNI

Professor Lupin sat at his desk in his office as you approached him. Your cheeks were blushed red at the sight of him staring intently at your papers in his hands.

"Hi, Professor." You spoke quietly as you took a seat next to him. You had been failing miserably at his classes to the point he's had to give you extra tutoring... not that you could complain.

"Y/N." He gives you a small smile as he places your classwork on his desk. "I understand that you've been having some difficulties understanding the material in my class?"

You nod obediently, ignoring the burning sensation between your legs as you took in his every detail. You used to be top of the class at Defence Against The Dark Arts, alongside every other class. However, since he because your teacher... you could no longer focus on your classwork.

"I see," Remus' eyebrows furrowed as he sat back in his chair, manspreading. "Which chapters have caused you the most trouble?"

Your mind grew hazy as you basically drooled at the sight of him, wanting nothing more than to place yourself on his lap and let him fuck you senseless.

"I-" You stuttered, squeezing your thighs together to relieve some sort of tension. Remus noticed this, his eyes travelling down to your skirt and bare legs. "All of it."

"Even the basic chapters?" His face hardened as you nodded. "I've been looking through your papers from previous years, Y/N... it seems to be a recent issue."

Remus shifted slightly, leaning forwards in his seat. His eyes remained fixed on yours as your cheeks grew red.

"Can I ask you a question, Y/N?" Remus said softly, one hand resting on the arm of your chair making you almost whimper. You glanced at his hand for a moment, visualising all the things he could do with it. Your eyes return to his and you nod obediently.

"Is it really the course material that you're struggling with? Or are there other reasons for your poor performance?" His expression held a hint of curiosity.

"I-I guess I've been a little distracted." You almost mumble, feeling yourself get wet at having his undivided attention.

"Oh," His eyebrows raised curiosity flashing across his face for a second. He spoke almost innocently, his eyes scanning your body once more, taking in your appearance. "Distracted by what?"

"You, Professor." You whimper, feeling completely transfixed under his gaze.

Remus took a quick breath as his chest raised and lowered again.

"Me?" You could tell he was holding back a smirk as he continued to pry and his voice darkened. "What is it exactly that you find distracting about me?"

"Y-you've just been causing some... dark thoughts." You respond quietly.

"Dark thoughts?" He couldn't hold back his smirk anymore. Your breath caught in your through as his hand moved from the arm of your chair to your bare thigh. "Can you specify?"

"Y-your hands." You moan out, opening your legs ever so slightly absentmindedly. You looked down at his hands, they wrapped round your small legs perfectly.

"What about my hands?" As he spoke, his hands travelled inch by inch up your thigh.

"W-when I see them... all I can think about is having them round my throat." You whine, his eyes widening at your words.

"Your throat?" He questioned further, squeezing your thigh.

"And other places." Your eyes returned to his and you realised just how close he was to you.

"Other places?" Remus was now inches from your face.

"My wrists... my waist... my mouth..." You noticed his eyes darken as a subtle grin crept into his features.

"Is that it?" He spoke in a dark voice and you shook your head no obedienty.

"My pussy." You finally let out and in that second he snapped, his mouth attaching itself to yours desperately.

You moaned against his lips as his tongue quickly found yours. His harsh grip on your thigh was replaced with your throat and you felt your brain grow foggy at the lack of oxygen.

Your fantasy was coming true, all those lessons sat with a puddle between your legs imagining Remus fucking you dumb was about to happen.

"Bend over my desk." Remus instructed, breaking away from the kiss.

"Y-yes, Professor." You whimpered, bending over in front of him so your abdomen was placed against the oak and your ass was facing him.

All you could do is whimper as he lifts your skirt to reveal your panties soaked in your own pleasure.

"Fucking hell, kitten." He chuckles, bringing his fingers up to your clothed cunt and rubbing small circles. "Are you always this wet for me?"

You nodded submissively and let out a yelp as he smacked you harshly on your bare cheek.

"Words, kitten." Remus spoke agressively.

"Yes, Professor." You spoke quietly. "I-I'm always wet for you."

He pulled your panties down slowly and you heard his own buckle being undone.

"You didn't think I was gonna reward you, did you?" You can hear the smirk in his voice as he speaks. "Dumb kittens don't deserve rewards."

Remus aligned himself with your pussy, not bothering to touch you beforehand to ease you into it. He grabbed your hair and pulled you up slightly so he could whisper in your ear.

"You want this, kitten?" He whispered. "Tell me you want your Professors cock in your sweet little pussy."

"I want your cock, Professor." You cry, desperate for any kind of stimulation. "Please."

Without a second thought he pushed himself into you, giving you no time to ease into things before thrusting into you.

You tightened around him as he let out a low groan, his cock filled you perfectly.

"Fuck" He muttered, not used to how tight your pussy is. He let go of your hair and grabbed your throat.

"Look how pathetic you are for me, baby." He groaned, quickening his pace. "Open your mouth."

You comply and feel two of his fingers down your throat. You try your best not to cough and choke around them but fail miserable.

"Aw, baby can't you handle it? I thought this is what you wanted?" He speaks sarcastically as suddenly he removes himself from you. You whimper at the loss of contact but he quickly turns you around so you're on your back.

"I-I can handle it." You whine, your brain foggy as he looks at you with a dark grin.

He pushes his cock into you again, this time thrusting into you at a ridiculously slow rate.

"You want me to fuck you properly, huh?" His voice belittling as you nod desperately.

"Yes, Professor."

"Then promise me you'll get your grades up," He smirks. "I don't want a dumb kitten."

"I-I'm not dumb." You whine, raising your hips to his but he quickly forces you down with his big hands.

"Then promise me."

"I-I promise, Professor." You don't have the chance to think twice as he begins fucking you relentlessly.

His mouth finds your neck as he sucks harshly, leaving bite marks all over you. You quickly reach your high, clenching around him as he finishes too, his cum spreading inside your tight cunt.

Remus removes himself from you all too quickly, pulling his trousers back up and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

You stand to your feet, your legs weak as his cum runs down your bare thighs.

"I'll see you in class, Y/N" He smirks, grabbing your underwear from the floor and putting it in his pocket. "Get your grades up and maybe I'll think about that reward."

[ace-turned-confused]

whatever you want | joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist

summary: date night for you and Joel but we skip to the good part word count: 3,2k warnings: 18+ only, POV changes, no plot in sight, reader has no physical descriptions other than clothing, established relationship, pet names, smut, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, butt stuff, spitting, creampie, praise kink, panty kink, size kink, Joel’s filthy mouth a/n: this is the first thing i've written that's actually made it out the doc before being trashed forever - big thanks to my irl bestie for her continuous words of encouragement <3 this is very mildly edited because i'll hate it if i keep trying to improve it ✌️ i'd appreciate any feedback! again pls be nice thank you love you

You've been looking forward to this all week — date night with Joel. You usually stick to something simple, going out for a cosy dinner or just deciding to cook together at home — but he always ensures it’s a memorable night in one way or another, and tonight is no exception.

He suggested to you earlier in the week, lying in bed, “How ‘bout this time you pick out something for me to wear? Hm?” It had your mind racing with ideas, thinking about all the possibilities now presented to you. 

You glance at him, “So what’s in it for you, then?”

“No ulterior motive here, sweetheart,” he puts his palms up near his face and smirks, “You always look pretty for me, I just thought I’d return the favour.”

“Hm, that’s a big decision,” you mutter with a playful smile.

You’re well aware of what Joel loves seeing you wear — he’s always loved anything you wear, to be frank, racy or not — and decided to pose a deal to him, something you knew you’d both benefit from.

“I may have some ideas. Why don’t we make a deal, then?” you inch closer to him and play with a stray lock of his hair. “You do something for me, and I’ll do something for you.” Your eyes meet and you can tell he’s trying to figure out the game you’re playing.

“And what would that entail?” he asks, a hint of cockiness in his voice, impressed by your unusual boldness. You remove your hand from his hair and drape your arm over him.

“Will you wear that red shirt again… with the sleeves rolled up?” you ask shyly, trailing your fingers up and down his side.

“Sure will,” he says, still smirking. You’re only getting more breathless the longer this goes on, and you haven't even made your whole point yet.

“And… those black pants of yours…?”

“Which ones, sweetheart? I got a lot of black pants,” he remarks, feigning innocence and a cheeky lilt to his voice. “You know which ones,” you mutter, your hand stilling.

He shifts closer until you’re pressed against each other and whispers, “Don’t think I do, you’re gonna have to tell me.”

You huff, annoyed at him for teasing you like this, and at yourself for getting turned on by his games. “The tight-fitting, black—”

“That’s not what you really want to say, though, is it? Tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours,” he interrupts, and you shiver.

You look down at his chest, unable to make eye contact with him and pray he doesn’t notice how your cheeks redden as you whisper back, “Those black pants that everyone can see how big you are, those pants, I want you to wear them.”

He skims a hand up your back, “See? Was that so difficult?” he asks rhetorically, and you can practically hear his teasing smile and visualise the dark glint that you know will be in his eyes. “And what shoes should I wear, you know, to tie the whole look together?”

“You know very well I couldn’t care less what fucking shoes you wear,” you chirp back at him, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again.

Satisfied with your answer, he plants his hand on the small of your back, caressing you gently with his thumb, “You mentioned some kind of deal?”

If he hadn’t brought it up again you’re not sure you would’ve remembered at all. You’ll always be amazed by how calm he is after derailing a conversation and making you so flustered.

You close your eyes, mentally shake yourself, and start your bargaining, “Well, I promise to wear the laciest panties I own—” you look at him sweetly through your lashes, “—if you promise to keep your clothes on. And you can, you know, do whatever you want.” It comes out far breathier than you were planning, but it’s out. “With me, to me, you know. Whatever.” 

He raises his eyebrows slightly, voice lowered, “Whatever I want, hm? And all I have to do is stay dressed? Quite the deal there.”

-

Joel’s made himself comfortable in his chair, eyes trained on you in the doorway. Sitting here now, the night’s only just beginning and you’re already like putty in his hands. He noticed hours ago your eyes had glazed over, and he’s been growing harder and harder ever since in anticipation.

“What’re you thinking about, sweetheart?” he asks, and your gaze refocuses on him.

“You,” you reply, sweet and simple.

He does a once-over, taking in your flowery, strappy top and neat little black slip-skirt that falls just above your knees and hugs your hips beautifully — your hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt and you’re shifting your weight side to side.

He smiles softly and suggests, “Why don’t you show me those pretty panties you promised to wear?” and you nod gently, moving slowly further into the room.

Much more confident and comfortable in your own skin than when you took your clothes off for him the first time, you face Joel and lift your gaze to meet his. You reach behind your back to unzip your top and lift it over your head, dropping it to the floor. Pushing your thumbs beneath your waistband, you peel your skirt over your hips and hunch forward slightly, letting it pool around your feet. Standing at your full height again, he takes all of you in — clad in lace, black bra and lilac panties.

He widens his legs and curls a finger, beckoning you forward and you stand between his knees. Joel rests his hands on your hips, thumbing the lace over your hipbones.

“Where’ve you been hiding these?” he looks up at you and sees heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.

“I, um… I’ve been saving them, for uh—“ you stutter, and he can see you start second-guessing your choice. Breathing shallowly, you murmur, “Do you not like them?”

He smiles at you, still playing with the lace, “I love them, sweetheart. You know I always do.” He lowers his gaze down to your panties again, eyes trailing across the fabric, and he doesn’t miss how you press your legs together, seeking any sort of relief.

He pushes against your hip to turn you around, and almost can’t believe how you’ve both ended up here. You, dressed in your best lace just for him, ready and willing to do as he says? You’d clearly been wanting to do this for some time now, but Joel would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited, too. He kneads the swell of your ass, fingers toying with the lacy edges and hears you breathing deeply again.

“So, whatever I want?”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder and reply under your breath, “Yes.”

He turns you around to face him, hands still on your hips. He looks up at you again, “You okay?” and squeezes his hands.

“Yeah,” and you nod, smiling down at him.

“Well, you did such a good job picking these panties all on your own, sweetheart, I think maybe you need a reward,” he darts his tongue out and drags his hands along your thighs, resting his arms down and leaning back in his chair. “First, though, you’re gonna show me just how good you can be, okay? C’mon, on your knees.”

You lower yourself, getting comfortable between his legs, your eyes lingering on his bulge before looking up at him. He nods towards his lap and you start undoing his pants, palming him through the fabric. Reaching into his boxer briefs and wrapping your hand around his length, you stroke him a few times and pull his waistband down just enough to take him out, thick and heavy and already fully stiff in your hand. You bow your head to lick him from base to tip, hover above him and spit onto his cock, stroking him harder and smiling sweetly at him.

You start taking him into your mouth and he sighs, resting a hand on the crown of your head. “You been waiting all night for this, huh, sweetheart?”

You hum a response and he groans, watching you bob up and down, taking more and more of him each time. You pull off and continue stroking him, and he smiles at you in encouragement. You take him in your mouth again, and he feels you hollow your cheeks and take him even further, the tip of his cock just about breaching your throat and you whimper around him.

“Fuck, baby, doin’ so good,” he grunts and pulls you off. His hand moves to the nape of your neck, the other tracing over your collarbone and down over the lace of your bra, your nipples hardening through the delicate fabric. “Think you can do it?”

You nod eagerly at him, eyes glinting, hands stroking him languidly and you move to start sucking him again. He tightens his grip and stops you. “Use your words, please.”

“Yes, I can do it.” You look up at him and his hold softens.

“Good girl, go on.”

You lick the underside of his shaft and swirl your tongue around the head of his cock and take him again, working him just to the start of your throat. You’re breathing as best you can through your nose, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, lips stretched around him and brushing his wiry curls as you push even further and hold him there, fingers digging into his thighs. You start to gag and do your best not to pull off him, squirming to find any bit of friction and Joel moans at the sight, throwing his head back.

“Bein’ such a good girl, taking my cock so far down your throat, hm?” 

You moan and swallow around him, his hips jerking at the sensation and he pulls you off. “Almost too good,” he breathes, “know you’d love me coming down your throat, but not tonight.” He gives you a lopsided smile and you whine, moving back and forth on your knees.

“Stand up for me sweetheart,” and you rise, looking down at him, still catching your breath. His hands are back on you immediately, squeezing your waist, hips, ass — any part of you he can reach. He runs his fingers across your panties again, trailing them down over your covered clit and between your folds and you tilt forward into his touch.

“Soaked right through these pretty panties of yours,” he looks up to meet your gaze and there’s almost no colour to your eyes anymore, just pure blown-out pupils. He keeps rubbing his fingers along you and you whine again, clearly desperate for him to touch you properly.

He smirks up at you, “So needy just from sucking my cock.”

Joel shoves his hand under the elastic of your panties and rubs his fingers between your folds and over your entrance, coating his fingers in your arousal. He shoves two thick fingers into you without warning and you fall forward with a strangled moan, hands supporting your weight on his shoulders as he pumps his fingers in and out, your cunt tight around him.

“Always so wet for me, huh? Need me to make you feel good?” He stares at you, eyes shut and mouth hanging open as he slows his hand and you force out a yes, your voice hoarse. He speeds up again and curls his fingers into that one spot he knows you can’t reach with your own hand, brushing over it again and again, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit.

Your legs start trembling and he pulls his fingers out and slips them into his mouth, sucking them clean. “Taste so sweet.”

He moves his legs between yours and pulls you towards him and down onto his lap, guiding your hips back and forth over his length, precome leaking from his tip. He leans forward, “You gonna keep these on while you sit on my cock, yeah?” and tugs on the waistband of your panties, letting the elastic snap back against your skin. You nod frantically in response and lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him haphazardly. He licks into your mouth and moans into you, hands firmly gripping your ass.

You rise slightly and he takes hold of his cock, stroking himself and pulls your panties to one side. He lines himself up with your entrance and you start to sink down, eyes screwing shut at the stretch. He holds you by the waist, your hands like a vice grip on his shoulders and it takes everything in him not to pull you down and make you take him to the hilt. You take your time working him in, inch by inch, and Joel can tell how close you are already, your broken moans getting louder and louder.

You’re fully seated and he takes a hand off his shoulder, plants a kiss on your knuckles and guides it between your bodies, spreading your fingers around where he’s splitting you open. “You feel how stretched you are, baby?” You gasp and he leans towards you and lifts his hand to grip across your chin, mouth ghosting yours and squeezes his hand to purse your lips. 

“Open,” he orders and your lips part, spitting into your mouth and he feels you tightening around him. Pushing his index finger into your mouth, you suck and swirl your tongue around it, moaning as you lift up and down, grinding yourself onto the trail of hair at the base of his cock. Joel feels your legs starting to give out underneath you and he watches you with hooded eyes. He pulls his finger from your mouth and wraps his arms around you, hands reaching down underneath your panties to grab your ass and spread you wider. He prods his finger at your tight hole and your eyes shoot open to look at him, desperate and needy.

“You gonna come for me?” You whine and nod, almost begging him with a please, over and over again. He pushes his finger in to just past his middle knuckle and you moan out wantonly, already completely wrecked. Joel feels your cunt clamp down on his cock and you come with a sob of his name, eyes shut and face contorted in pleasure as he whispers praises in your ear.

-

At some point in your post-orgasm haze, Joel moved the two of you onto the bed — you waiting on all fours and Joel's voice breaking through from somewhere behind you.

“Did good sweetheart, always do, but I’m not done with you.” His hands are all over you, skating across and grabbing any skin he can reach. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder in search of him and notice he’s still fully dressed — well, as fully dressed as he can be — and remember that’s what got you into this position in the first place. Dishevelled greying curls, only the last couple buttons holding his shirt together, wide chest on full display, sleeves rolled up, pants and boxer briefs sitting mid-thigh, his cock, thick and hard and leaking and you clench around nothing just at the sight.

He hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls your panties down to the tops of your thighs, placing open-mouthed kisses on the skin as it’s revealed. He spreads you with his hands and spits onto your pussy and you let out a choked moan. He drags the tip of his cock through your folds and the messy mix of arousal and spit and your last orgasm. You feel him notch at your entrance again, and he sheaths himself fully inside your cunt in one thrust, all but punching the air from your lungs and he groans. You feel the swell of his tummy pressed against you and his fingers digging into your ass as he spreads you open. “Look so beautiful like this, wish you could see it.”

He leans over you, breathing into your neck, “Always take my cock so well, baby.” He pulls out almost completely, snapping his hips back into you and you can already feel heat pooling at the base of your spine again as he pounds into you, fingers gripping your hips so hard he’s bound to leave bruises. He snakes a hand underneath you to rub your clit and you feel your legs start to tremble.

All you can think is Joel Joel Joel, and his voice cuts through the ringing in your ears, husky and breathless. “You gonna give me one more, yeah? Come for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come on my cock,” and you all but see stars behind your eyes, overwhelmed with the sweet praise. He stills as you come, his hands and affirming words keeping you grounded as you clench and gush around him.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you up flush against him, your head falling back onto his shoulder and you’re not sure you can form words anymore, your chest heaving as you try to get your breathing back to normal. You turn your head towards him and he kisses you surprisingly gently.

“Can you be good just a bit longer?” He starts grinding his hips into you and you whine, your hands coming up to hold his arms. “Always such a good girl for me, hm?” He drags his mouth along the side of your neck and you nod tiredly, feeling him smile.

He starts with slow thrusts, his grip around you the sole reason you’re still upright, his voice in your ear and hot breath on your neck and the heavy, familiar, drag of his cock in and out making you dizzy.

“So fuckin’ tight around me sweetheart. Your favourite feeling, isn’t it? Being stuffed full of my cock?” He starts rambling on and you know he’s close. “You want me to come inside you? Want me to come inside your tight little pussy?”

“Yes, please. Please come inside me.”

He mumbles incoherently and you tighten your hands on his arms; his thrusts get harder and his arms stiffen in their hold around you and you feel him twitching as he starts to spill inside you, warmth coating your walls. He lowers you both to lie down as he comes down from his high, cock still buried deep inside you and you feel his spend start to leak out around him and down your thighs.

-

Shifting around and your eyes fluttering open, you’re wrapped up in Joel’s arms, head burrowed against his chest. You reach down and feel he’s cleaned you up and pulled fresh panties on you, a faint throbbing between your thighs. He stirs next to you and presses a kiss to your forehead, long and tender.

“Sorry, fell asleep,” you mumble and wrap an arm around his torso to press yourself into him even more.

He pulls back slightly, lifting your chin with a finger to look at him. “Sweetheart, think we’ve done this enough that I know you get sleepy afterwards. Stop apologising.” He cradles your cheek, kisses you sweetly and whispers, “Now go back to sleep.”

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[folkloresthings]

..send ten more requests you say .. well . i’d love to ask for northanger abbey with fernando alonso, and the nightmare comfort trope?? idk if u can reuse tropes for different drivers but i figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask ty !!

RIGHT HERE. ❨ fernando alonso x reader ❩

it was said that the things that plagued a person’s day came back to haunt them at night. stress accumulated in dreams, maximised by worry and exaggeration, sending one tossing and turning and waking to imagine the worse. despite having a boyfriend who risked his life every weekend, this wasn’t much of a problem for you.

until now. fernando had crashed during free practice — nothing severe or serious, the car had barely a scratch on it, but it had scared the daylights out of you. you’d been walking on eggshells around him all day long, like he’d crack if you touched him too hard.

“i’m fine, mi amor,” he had assured you, kissing your temple as you made him his fourth cup of tea. “it was just a bump.”

but it had got you thinking. about how dangerous his job was, how easily something could go wrong and he could be taken from you. you’d never had to visualise it until now, and the image of fernando spinning across the track was playing like a broken record in your head.

what was next? spinning until he slammed into the barriers? until the engine blew and caught on fire? until he couldn’t get out? this montage of what could be flashed in your head until you were jolting awake, a layer of cold sweat shining on your skin. your breath ragged and chest pounding as you reached to find the warmth of your lover.

the mattress was cold on his side, clock next to it flashing near midnight. you remembered then going to bed alone, leaving him downstairs to work with a kiss. he had emails to get back to, and an episode or two of a show you had no interest in. no matter how you tried to calm yourself without him beside you, you needed his comfort.

throwing back the covers that smelled vaguely of you, your bare feet padded across the wooden floors until you found fernando. basking in the soft glow of his laptop and the television screen, he looked handsome as ever. sensing your presence, his eyes flickered up immediately. a smile graced him first, noticing the shirt he used to own falling loose on your frame.

but the emotion flooding your features soon turned his worried, the gloss in your eyes soon piecing the puzzle together.

“corazón?”

“i had a bad dream.” you feel like an idiot saying it. like some young child come to confess at the door of their parents bedroom, sheepish and embarrassed but desperate for comfort. fernando’s face softens, arms opening wide for you.

you waste no time in hurrying over to him, curling up in his lap and tucking your face away in his chest. strong arms wind around you, squeezing you tight to his front. he says nothing, simply letting your emotions ease around his gentle embrace.

“about the race?” fernando wondered, voice muffled where he’d pressed his lips to the crown of your head, peppering soft kisses and whispering sweet nothings. you nod against his chest, not quite trusting your voice yet. “sweetheart, i promise you it will be okay.”

you looked at him then, killing him with the pain that’s floating in your eyes. “you can’t promise anything,” you whisper. “anything could happen.”

fernando quiets, knowing your words are the truth. he’d been in the sport long enough to know how dangerous it is, seeing things spiral out of control far too quickly. he tugs you close again, a hand cradling your head close to his front.

“i promise you, it’ll be fine,” he repeats, voice stern and assured. you blink up at him, wanting desperately to believe him. his eyes are so loving, so eager to spend more time with you, that you do believe him. he’s capable of anything, or so you’ve come to think, so you know he can make it all okay.

“come to bed?” you plead quietly, knowing you’ll never be able to fall asleep again if he’s not next to you. fernando smiles, soft and just for you, picking you up by the waist to carry you the whole way to the bedroom. safe under the covers, away from any harm his car might cause him, you hold on tight.

“i’m right here, mi amor,” he whispers, arms sliding around your waist until you’re practically on top of him. “i’m not going anywhere.”

[aroacedm]

here’s 12 pictures of my art! context after each and my references at the end

tgcf spoilers!

12th

redrawing of the official art from tgcf volume 4! shi qingxuan is my favourite character and he xuan is a close second

this took me a while until i liked it but i wanted to recreate how the original created the ominous feeling and had so much detail and contrast while being in greyscale

11th

from the tgcf manhua, fengqing! i think their my favourite ship, and i hadn’t drawn them before so i tried to give it a go. not a big fan of the proportions but i think it turned out ok.

10th

@oceantherat (this is their favourite character from rain code) showed me the reference picture and i decided to try drawing it as perspective practice. it ended up a little bigger than i though so i couldn’t fit the whole reference, and the mask doesn’t feel rounded, but overall i like it

9th

same guy again! i wanted to try drawing him again but i think the shadows got a bit messed up. my cheap pens smudged a bit but overall i like it

8th

also from the tgcf manhua, this was from a meme that’s become an bit with me and ocean, just felt like drawing something and saw this in my photos

7th

after a dnd session with ocean and some other friends, i drew a scene from ocean’s character’s (also called ocean because that’s not their irl name) flashback! this guy killed her family! he’s one of her relatives! but i really wanted to focus on how dark the scene was, with almost everything being pitch black. i wanted to recreate the scene that left my players going D:

6th

here’s a younger ocean and her cousin that’s more like a brother! i hope nothing bad happens to him… i wanted to draw a picture that helped me as a reference for the backstory, to help build the character relationships and motivations

5th

it’s another character from that dnd campaign when they were younger with their brother figure! except this one is an NPC helping them out! i wanted to try and make the effect of torn paper but didn’t want to risk anything, so i left a bit of uncoloured paper to imitate a layer of partially torn paper. this was also to help when i was writing backstories

4th

this is the npc from the last picture in present time, i wanted to make canon designs for all the characters to help me visualise everything. i hid a few lore elements in this but because ocean is going to see this i can’t explain

3rd

i tried to redraw a picture of me and a friend on a ride together but in a more simple style (no eyes and mouth, ect) i haven’t shown the friend yet but i will soon. i’m the person looking at the camera. i really loved the photo and wanted to try drawing it

2nd

i drew this a while ago, but i still really like it. i used my own hand as reference (for some reason i used the hand i was drawing with) i’ve always been fairly good at drawing hands and when i sent this on an art group chat i’m in, i was quickly accused of being a witch. i can only draw to a level i like when i have a reference, and i always have my hands so it’s the thing i’ve drawn the most. i didn’t have the colour for my hands, but i think it turned out good

and finally,

i’m really proud of this one, i was sick and really bored when i drew it. this is from tgcf vol 6, but i’ve always been really impressed by the tgcf official art and how they look hand drawn but also digital. (you can see brush strokes but they look too perfect). i didn’t have all the different shades of grey, but i think i did well.

thanks for looking at all my art, here are the references i used and where they’re from

i don’t have the reference for number 9 but i’ll reblog with it when i find it

also i plan on showing more of my art but i need to find the original authors of the references

[neewtmas]

ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀʙʙᴇʏ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ // ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪɪ

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 2.7k

summary: a case that takes longer than expected, an unrequited crush, and the hardest decision you ever had to make

masterlist part I part II

taglist: @maraschinomerry @sstrawberriel  @poisonquinzell @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @the-high-lady-of-3am-crackposts @shampoocovers99 (if you wanna be added or removed, just tell me) also @oblivious-idiot

You had barely turned the corner onto Portland Row when you already started searching your pockets for the house key. When you found it, you gripped the metal tightly, glad to have something to hold onto. Though slightly out of breath now, you were still keeping up a pace that had you a few steps in front of George at all times. No words had been exchanged throughout the walk, and you were equal parts sad and glad that he hadn't even attempted a conversation. The gate creaked horribly as you pushed it open, and you wouldn't have even noticed how much force you applied if it hadn't been for George right behind you. You spun around at his surprised gasp just in time to see the gate that had swung back hit him. He grimaced. "That was unnecessary."

Your face flushed in embarrassment. "It wasn't on purpose", you mumbled and abruptly turned around to open the front door, desperate to escape the situation. Stepping into the hallway, you noticed the key had left little red indents in the palm of your hands. Looking at it, a clear visualisation of your incapability to control your feelings, you felt pathetic.

There wasn't much time to think about it though, because George pushed closely past you, pizza cartons held up high to not hit your head. Your heartbeat quickened at his sudden closeness. He yelled out for Lockwood and Lucy as he stomped into the kitchen, still in boots and his jacket. You knelt to untie your shoes, taking the few moments it took as a last opportunity to pull yourself together enough to survive the dinner without giving a hint about your emotional state.

"Well George, enlighten us. What did you guys find out?" Lockwood opened up the conversation after the four of you had demolished about half of every pizza within mere minutes. George put down the piece of pizza he was currently munching on, and cleared his throat. "Abbey House is the main residence of the Blackwood family. It's similar to Combe Carey Hall insofar as it's a manor outside of London, but up until now, there have never been any disturbances. The history of the house is fascinatingly non-violent, actually."

"Really? No death? No murder? Not even a little bit?" Lockwood seemed almost disappointed by George's revelations. "Oh, there has been death. Plenty of it, if that makes you happy. But none of it is connected to the house itself." George fished a pencil out of his pocket that was so small already that it looked almost impossible to write with. He pushed one of the pizza cartons aside and quickly sketched the outline of a family tree.

Lucy, who sat next to you at the long side of the table, leaned over to get a closer look, forcing you to move closer to George as well. Your legs were touching now under the table. He looked at you and gave you the quickest of smiles before he turned back to the thinking cloth. "We've got Lord Blackwood at the top." He drew a somewhat funky-looking stick figure. "He's the current head of the family, and he owns Abbey House." He drew another stick figure next to the one already on the cloth and added something that, with a little fantasy, resembled a dress. He connected them with two intertwined rings. "His wife died a few years ago. Natural causes, no comeback as a ghost." He drew a big x over the stick figure. "They have two kids-" Another two stick figures. "The daughter is quite a few years older than her brother. She resides at Abbey House, and her brother is off to some fancy private school. Lastly, Lord Blackwood also has an older sister. Couldn't find too much about her."

Lockwood inspected the sketch with great interest. "Anything about staff? Any accidents, or something of the sort?" George leaned back, crossing his arms. He did not move his leg away from yours. "Nothing out of the ordinary. We spent the entire day combing through dusty family tree records and old newspaper clippings. His wife seemed to have lived quite a scandalous life before she got married to him. His daughter is famously picky with the men she surrounds herself with, which of course requires a regular article about how there is 'no heir in sight!' in just about every gossip magazine. Lord Blackwood has another sister, but she broke it off with her family and moved up to Scotland with her five kids. Lots of information, almost all of it irrelevant."

Lockwood took another piece of pizza and looked at it contemplatively. "On the phone, it sounded like a proper nightmare. There is a ghost there, and it's very angry."

"Don't know if I like the fact that there seems to be nothing that points towards a ghost", Lucy said.

"That's not that uncommon. And if I'm honest, now I'm even more intrigued." Lockwood had finished his piece of pizza in record time. "Of course you are", Lucy mumbled under her breath.

Lockwood ignored her. "We'll take the train tomorrow, early afternoon. I had our rapiers checked yesterday, so that's all in the clear. (name), Lucy, you go and lay out all of the equipment, and see if we need to fill up on something. We should be fully stocked, but you never know."

Lockwood seemed to brim with excited energy as he got up from the table. That's what the prospect of a challenging case tended to do to him. "I'll be in the library." He snatched the last piece of pizza from one of the cartons. "Doing some research of my own."

"Reading gossip magazines you mean?" George called after him, but Lockwood was already out of the room. George chuckled, looking at you. "Maybe I should have taken Lockwood with me today", he joked, and you gave your best to force a natural-looking smile. "Yeah, maybe", you quietly said and got up. "Lucy, let's get this over with." You didn't wait for her as you made your way down the staircase into the basement. You missed the way George turned and looked after you, with confusion and hurt at the way you were acting towards him.

In the basement, you started with pulling chains off the rack, simply dropping them in the middle of the room, the clatter of the metal against the concrete reverberating through the air. You couldn't wait to be done and get back to the solace of your room. By the time Lucy entered the room, you had moved on to sorting through the salt bombs. She joined you, and you worked in silence. There was no need to talk, it was a methodical procedure you both had gone through time and time again.

When you were done, you did a quick check of everything to make sure you didn't miss anything. Lucy stood leaning against the doorframe, watching you with her arms crossed over her chest. "I think we're good to go", you finally said and she smiled at you. You waited for her to turn around and lead the way back upstairs, but she didn't.

"Did something happen between you?"

You swallowed thickly. "No. Why?"

She shrugged. "You seem on edge. And he seems hurt."

You almost laughed. "Hurt?"

"You should have seen the way he looked after you after dinner."

You shook your head. "Lucy, you don't need to invent imaginary scenarios to make me feel better. I appreciate the sentiment, but it's really not helping."

She raised her eyebrows. "Tell me what happened then."

You huffed. "Nothing. Except me asking him to get dinner with me, and him turning it into getting pizza for everyone. Can't make it much clearer than that, now can you?"

Lucy just looked at you and the pity in her eyes made you want to rip your hair out. You flexed your hand, where the marks of the key were long gone, but you still felt pathetic.

"I don't think that was his intention", she finally said softly and turned around. You didn't move even after you heard her footsteps on the stairs and finally the door closing behind her. The room was now only dimly lit from the last bit of daylight that made its way through the narrow windows. Your eyes wandered over the four piles of equipment you had made on the floor, one for each member of the agency. From there, over to the shelves in which many folders filled to the brim with old bills, case records and miscellaneous papers piled up with no discernable system. Lastly, to the desks that stood in the corner, George's desk specifically. It was overflowing with books, notes, pictures, diagrams, loose paper, and pens, chaos only he could find any system in. On top of a stack of books stood a mug, looking lonely and out of place.

Without thinking about it, you slowly walked over and picked it up. It was your favourite mug, gifted to you by Lockwood after your first successful case with the agency as a sign that you were now a proper member. You softly brushed over the small spot on the handle that was chipped from the one time Lucy had tried to carry more than her hands could handle. You thought about how you had brought this cup down here a few days ago to give it to George who had been sitting over his notes for hours that evening. He had smiled at you, full of surprise and gratitude and fondness, before he had pulled over a chair for you to explain excitedly what he had been working on.

You blinked away the tears that had formed in your eyes. You weren't sure if you could go through with this. Leaving Lockwood & Co. would be like leaving family. But on the other hand, how long could you endure keeping things like they were? You had no idea how long you stood in the dark basement, staring at the mug that somehow had become the embodiment of the connections you had formed in this house - connections of varying kinds, but all connections of love. Connections that felt almost impossible to leave behind.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

This night's sleep had been horrible. You stumbled through the preparations that filled the entire first half of the day and looked forward to the train ride out into the country that would give you a chance to catch up on some of the sleep that you missed last night through all the tossing and turning.

The station was bustling with people, each one seemingly knowing exactly where to go and what to do. The four of you moved slowly through it all, your bags bulky and awkward to walk with, the rapiers dangling from your sides earning you a few glances from the people that passed you. Luckily, the train was already waiting at the platform. Your shoulder was aching from the unrelenting pressure of the bag's strap. After you ascended the three steps up into the train, you let it slip off your shoulder with a sigh, glad to be able to set it down for a second. The train was almost empty, it seemed like Stoneford - the village closest to Abbey House - wasn't a very popular destination. Your three colleagues had already started moving forward through the narrow hallway slowly, disregarding the empty seats they passed. Lockwood had booked you a private compartment, to allow you to discuss further details regarding the case if it was necessary, without anyone listening in on your conversation.

You looked down at the bag lying by your feet with dread. This was one of the many downsides of taking on cases with minimal information - the need to bring an extensive selection of gear to be equipped for everything that might come your way. You let out a long drawn-out sigh before bending down and snatching the straps that were on the floor. You started to make your way through the hallway, kicking and dragging the bag more than carrying it. You didn't come very far before the bag came to an abrupt halt, causing you to stumble forward and almost trip over your own feet. You cursed under your breath, which earned you a disapproving look from an older lady reading a newspaper two seats down from where you stood. You ignored her as you tried to get the strap out that had wedged itself in between the seat and the armrest.

You could feel your frustration building when you suddenly felt a hand coming to rest on the small of your back. You turned around to find George standing behind you. "Let me handle that", he said, and gently pushed you towards where Lucy and Lockwood had already disappeared into the compartment. You hesitated for a second, and looked back and forth between him and the bag, acutely aware of the placement of his hand. He raised his eyebrows, a silent prompt to follow what he had said.

"Thank you", you quietly said and left him to take care of it. The compartment door slid to the side easily, and you found Lucy and Lockwood on one of the benches, Lucy on her back with her head on Lockwood's lap. They had piled the luggage on the other bench, leaving barely enough room for two people to sit.

"Do you have to lie down, Lucy?", you asked. "Maybe we could put one of the bags on your bench." Lucy raised her head so that she could look at you over the edge of the table where Lockwood was looking through some papers, ignoring your conversation. "I'm really tired, unfortunately", she said. "I'm sure you understand." You rolled your eyes at her attempt to fake a convincing yawn. It was crystal clear to you what she was trying to do.

There was no time to argue with her because just then George appeared in the door frame. He wrestled the bag into the space under Lucy's and Lockwood's bench so that you could still move around in the compartment. When he was done, he turned to you. "Do you wanna sit by the window?" He was a little out of breath, a stray curl falling into his forehead. You shrugged. "I don't have a preference." He smiled at you. "Me neither. Then you get the window seat."

You squeezed yourself past the bags and sat down as close to the wall as possible, silently praying that the space was bigger than it looked. George placed his jacket on top of the bags before he too squeezed past the bags and plopped down next to you. He stretched out his legs with a sigh and took off his glasses to polish them on his shirt. He seemed entirely unfazed by the fact that your entire side was pressed up against him, all while it made your heartbeat stumble. You clasped your hands together in your lap to make yourself as small as possible.

"Lucy?" George asked. You bit your lip as you looked out of the window. Surely he was about to ask her to switch places so that he wouldn't have to be so close to you for the next several hours - you knew how he felt about excessive physical contact.

"Would you mind giving me the folder with the yellow marker?"

You looked over to Lucy, who pulled the folder out of the backpack you brought. George took it from her and opened it, immediately immersing himself in whatever he had in there.

In the meantime, the train had left the station. You hadn't moved at all, too afraid to accidentally alert George to the fact that you were almost sitting on top of him. Instead, you stared out of the window at the houses that flew by, slowly but surely getting replaced by trees and other greenery. There was a comfortable silence in the compartment, and that coupled with the rhythmic sound of the train had your eyes droop quickly. You rested your head against the wall and allowed them to close, quickly drifting off into sleep.

thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated :)

part IV

[ellilyre]

If you had to choose one of OdyDio to canonically die in the Iliad, who would you choose? Odysseus or Diomedes?

What would be/is your favourite Iliad au?

How are you today?

How do you think Diomedes would react to Odysseus getting speared like a chicken kebab in the Iliad?

What do you think Athena would think about OdyDio?

1. Odysseus. (I didn't see you said in the Iliad until I finished writing my monologue TT )

By the time of the Iliad, Dio had a way harsher life. He was at war since he was 14yo, and probably never expected to survive most of the things he has been through. But it does get better, eventually.

Odysseus, however, had (to my knowledge) a pretty chill life until Troy. And it's only once he tries to get home that he really goes through horrible things.

You see, Dio's past is harsh, but Ody's future is even harsher. It's a parallel I like between them. Also I just posted about my HC of Dio being (passive) suicidal, so the fact that he outlived Ody would be very unexpected and interesting.

However if it's during the Iliad, as you actually said, I'd prefer Dio. Atm Ody's story barely started while Dio could be considered to be dead at his apogee.

2. Lately I have been thinking about... CoD x Iliad.... The guys of the Trojan war, they're SAS.... Idk if I'd call that my fav one, but it's definitely something i need to think more about.

I rly like au where Ody comes home to Penelope and Dio, and then they all live happy and together.

3. Great!! The bus ride has been pretty fun so far :3 rn it's 3am, I was half sleeping for the past 2h, and im torn apart between feeling excited and quite energetic and the urge to nap again lol

4. Listen, I am pretty sure Ody does at some point get kebab'ed. I have heard about that but. I genuinely don't remember reading about it (I forget many things I read). As I don't visualise the scene at all its a bit tough for me to answer sry TT (i knew I should've take my Iliad with me... /Hj)

5. She's happy to see her favourite mortals (I like to think she actually has a sweet spot for them both) being close, although sometimes it's a little too close (throw back to one of my last posts lol). Also I hc that (like most gods) she doesn't rly understand/care for the mortals' cultural laws, so she has none of the era's homophobia. It's kinda like you adopt 2 stray cats and one day you see them grooming each other, you're like "yay they get along great :)"

[shrimpalbuspotter]

trying to get into wolfstar bc I'm in the Marauders Fandom and it's the most prominent ship but I genuinely have no interest in it so I just have to make shit up and act like I gaf 💔

Not even trying to say its a bad ship. I get why people like it. I just don't... GET it, yaknow? Like, I've always been more into canon than fanon for any piece of media, so I can only see Wolfstar in a canon light, and in my head it just isnt working out.

When they're older? Sure! They were in the same friendgroup in Hogwarts, they never saw eachother for 12 years and were the only people in that friendgroup that were both alive and not evil. They are grieving together. But... that's all I can see it as, and I'm just not interested in that. At all.

Idk.. God maybe its bc I always imagine Wolfstar as kinda toxic (not that I hate toxic ships, this is just the wrong genre) bc Sirius's loyalties would always lay with James despite him being dead, but I've just never wanted to even read wolfstar. It's got to the point if I'm reading a fic and Wolfstar is a side ship you see alot, I have to drop it.

And honestly, I've never even touched a fic where the MAIN ship is Wolfstar because I just know I'm not gonna enjoy it and will eventually imagine them as different characters so I can stay interested.

I DUNNO. I JUST HAD TO MAKE THIS POST... DONT EXPECT ANY WOLFSTAR HERE UNLESS I SUDDENLY THINK OF SOMETHING FOR THEM WHICH I FEEL PASSIONATE ABOUT (Perhaps how I visualise it or how I can imagine it playing out)

[qwertyprophecy]

hi !! i recently played storyseeker and really loved it !! i was curious about how you went about designing the story for it ?? was it hard to keep track of all the moving narrative parts ?? how did you decide where to reveal what info ?? hope you dont mind me asking -- i really love your art !! have a great day !!

I'm glad you enjoyed Storyseeker! Old as it may be, out of everything I've made it's still the game I'd most like to make a spiritual successor to.

Answers to narrative design questions after the cut:

It's funny, Storyseeker's design process was so organic that realistically it should've turned into a right mess. But just as organically it lead into design principles that made organising the story a breeze, honestly.

What I mean by organic: As touched upon in this reply regarding worldbuilding, the story kept writing itself as long as I kept asking it questions, so I just let it do its thing. The player is meant to experience the narrative in much the same way, with me imposing as little control over them as possible while they travel as they please and narrate to themselves the story of what they see.

It sounds freeform and terribly unstructured, but I established a principle of design that aims to help the player connect the dots instead of feeling lost in a cacophony of random details. While making the game I called them "paths": routes the player is likely to take or subtly guided to take, that connect together related parts of the narrative. Visually some are literal paths or roads, but they could be anything that the player might follow. Footprints, streams of bubbles, the line of sight of an NPC, the sight of something irregular peeking at the edge of the screen...

A path presents both a question and a direction to go look for the answer. Oftentimes, the exact questions I was asking myself when building the world piece by piece. Where does this road lead? Where are these weasels swimming to (or, approaching from the opposite direction, where did they come from)? What dislodged itself from this hole in the ice and where did it go? What kind of a body are these giant toes connected to? Ie., to answer your question of when to reveal information: when the player asks for the information by moving towards where it's revealed, whether on purpose or unknowingly.

If the player follows the direction they must end up on another path because good answers beget more questions. The single most important design document I had was a piece of scrap paper with a rough sketch of the map and a whole lot of coloured lines flowing across it to mark the paths I was prepping for the player. (Lines, not arrows, since I couldn't predict which direction they'd be traveled in.) By visualising them I tried to make sure none of them stopped abruptly or looped in a circle, and that all the places of interest were covered.

(The biggest exception to this design is of course the dead end of a room that is the game's final area: the temple interior that can only be found by completionists. That's why it "completes" the game by being a narrative dead end, too.)

I genuinely didn't even plan it this way on purpose, but it turns out that it really helps keep track of a narrative when you make a game where webs of cause and consequence are all visually illustrated on a literal map. :D If you're the type of person who benefits from visually organising things, I don't see why you couldn't draw abstracted maps of your narrative even if it's not so visual in nature.

I know I definitely need to do more of that! Just last week I rescued my current project's dialogue rewrite with visualisation and arrow doodles. It had grown into an overwhelming mess of unplanned splitting and rejoining branches and microreactivity, so to have any chance of looking at it without inviting a migraine, I closed the document and instead mapped the whole script into a single page outline of what each conversation is supposed to convey to the player. It's so much easier for me to think about the shape of the story when I can see it in one glance!

[lemoncrushh]

Seven Six Five - Part Four

Summary: They met once seven years ago. Now music has made them cross paths again.

Warnings: smut, body image issues, angst. 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Enemies to Lovers. This was originally written and posted in 2020, right before the pandemic, so the story takes place then with flashbacks of 2013. Harry Styles x Plus Size OC, written in third person.

Part Four Word Count: 3.1k+

STORY PAGE

28 February, 2020 - New York, NY, USA...12:17AM

Bronwyn sat on her bed sideways, her back against the wall. Her ears suddenly felt as though they were filled with cotton, or maybe water, and her own voice in her head was crying from oceans away. She picked at a loose thread on the knees of her overalls, a patch that her friend Sylvia had sewn on for her after she’d purchased them at a thrift shop two seasons ago. Though she knew Harry was waiting for her to say more, she was grateful he broke the silence first.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked.

“Um...reckoned I should hear you out.”

“Hear me out?”

“Yeah.”

With a long sigh, Bronwyn let the next words roll around in her brain before she said them aloud.

“A few years ago, I told one of my best friends about you. About when we met. And she said if I ever got the chance, I should hear you out. Hear your side of the story.”

“What story, love? That’s what I don’t understand. All I know is we were having a great time, or so I thought. We’d made plans to leave together, and to meet near the lift. When I got there, you weren’t there yet, so I waited. I waited for...a long time. I even circled back around the hallway and checked the party. You never showed.”

“I know,” Bronwyn whispered.

“Why?”

“Because...you hurt me.”

“What? How?”

Bronwyn was quiet for a long while. She could hear Harry’s breaths through the phone until they finally merged with her own.

“Bronwyn? Talk to me. Please.”

She could almost hear the crackle in her throat as she opened her mouth and let out another sigh. She’d imagined telling him this a million times, visualised having this conversation. But it had always gone differently in her head. In those scenarios, she’d been angry and accusing, ready to put him in his place. Now she felt...vulnerable.

“When you’d left to go find your bandmates,” she began, “I went to the loo and to retrieve my camera. I was feeling pretty good, from the drinks, but also just from being with you. You made me feel...like no one had before. Like you didn’t see the plump girl. You just saw me. When I made my way back toward the lifts, I heard voices and noticed some of your bandmates standing inside a doorway and realised you were with them. There was some laughter and chatter, and I couldn’t make out all of it. But what I definitely know I heard was you telling them you were leaving with me. And someone else asked if...that was the chubby hippie chick or the hot redhead.”

“Bron-”

“And as if that didn’t sting enough,” she continued hastily, her voice starting to rise, “someone else...Zayn, I think...said, ‘it’s definitely not the hot redhead.’”

“God, Bronwyn, I-”

“You know what hurt the most?” she choked, not letting Harry get a word in. “That I didn’t hear you say anything else. You didn’t stick up for me, or tell them to piss off. I just heard more laughter. At least until I ran out of the building and hailed a taxi.”

“Shit…”

“Yeah. So...as much as I thought giving you a chance to give your side was a good idea when I called…” argued Bronwyn, feeling her blood boil from the memory, “I don’t really see the point now. Because dredging all of this up again has only made me angrier. So I’ll just hang up now before-”

“Stop!” Harry interrupted. “Please, love, let me talk.”

“What’s the point, Harry? You didn’t really want me. I just happened to be there that night to...stroke your ego or whatever it was.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then what was your plan? You were gonna take me to bed and pretend you were into it in order to get your rocks off, and then make some excuse to leave right after?”

“Absolutely not!”

Bronwyn scoffed. “Sure. You probably couldn’t wait to go back to your mates and compare notes.”

“Listen to me, Bronwyn. Whatever you heard...or thought you heard...I can assure you, I never ever laughed at you or about you. Ever.”

Bronwyn was silent as she bit her lip, hoping that would stop the tears that were trickling down her cheeks.

“First of all,” Harry continued, “I don’t remember anyone making that remark about you, but that’s not saying they didn’t. And as for not sticking up for you...if it was said, then I most sincerely apologise, for my idiot bandmate, and for not telling him where to shove it. But...I was nineteen, Bronwyn. I know, that’s not a valid excuse. But at this point...it’s the only one I got. I was a stupid, horny teenager, full of piss. To be completely honest, I don’t even remember having a conversation with my bandmates about you. And I most certainly have no idea who the redhead was that you speak of, because if memory serves, I was with you all evening. All I remember is you, and having the best time getting to know you, and that kiss we shared in the alcove, and my heart pounding because I couldn’t wait to be alone with you. So if anything at all was said negatively about you...please know those were not my sentiments, and I sincerely apologise for making you think otherwise.”

Unable to utter a word, Bronwyn sniffled. She wanted it to be true. She wanted that so badly.

“You still there?”

“Yeah,” she whispered with another sniffle.

“Oh love, I am sorry. I had no idea. I looked all over for you. I didn’t know what happened, other than you must’ve changed your mind. I was pretty gutted, to be honest.”

“Not as much as me.”

Bronwyn could hear Harry let out a deep breath. “Do you really think that’s how I thought of you?”

“Why not? It made the most sense.”

“No, it makes no sense. If that was the case, then why would I have asked you to leave with me? Why would I have kissed you or...even bothered getting to know you in the first place?”

“I dunno.”

“I don’t play games, Bronwyn. I didn’t then, and I don’t now. I wasn’t trying to...prove anything to my mates or make a bet or string you along and make you think I liked you when I didn’t. Because I did! I thought you were beautiful. Those long, gorgeous curls, that heart shaped face...the way your eyes dance when you talk about music. And those were just things I liked right away, before we…”

Harry’s words trailed off with another sigh. Bronwyn sucked in her lips as Harry’s compliments reminded her more of that night, of the feeling she had with him. It made her warm from the inside, all the way down to her toes.

“All I can do now is apologise, I guess,” Harry commented, his tone sincere. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“I dunno, Harry. I want to. It’s just...I’ve hated you for so long because of that night.”

“Ouch. Hate’s a strong word.”

“I know,” Bronwyn mumbled. “But you hurt me. Or at least...I thought you had. I don’t…”

“Hmm. I don’t suppose we could start over. Although I’d hate to forget that night completely. But maybe I could help you forget the bad parts.”

“Maybe.”

“I like that maybe. Gives me hope.”

“The records have helped,” Bronwyn admitted.

“Yeah? Have you listened to them both?”

“I have. And I’ve enjoyed them. Even yours.”

Harry chuckled deeply at the tiny dig. “I’m glad. I can bring some more, if you like.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” declared Harry. “If you’ll let me.”

After a much-needed full night’s sleep, Bronwyn was ready to tackle a new day. The conversation with Harry had put her mind at ease for the most part, although she knew it was going to take some time to completely heal. Despite the knowledge that Harry had never said or done anything to hurt or mock her, that sour, unsettling feeling she’d carried with her for the last seven years wasn’t going to melt away overnight. Perhaps she needed a bit of self-love, she’d told herself, although Harry’s complimentary words about her the night before weren’t taken lightly. In fact, when she’d gotten out of bed that morning, she let them echo in her brain, making herself smile.

She had another reason to smile too, a couple hours later when Antonella phoned her with another job opportunity. This time it was there in New York, and it was for a local band that she’d seen a handful of times already. They were familiar with her work, and she with theirs, so she was always happy to oblige.

Sat in the middle of her flat, Bronwyn decided to unload all of her camera equipment to be cleaned. She’d just gotten to work when she heard the buzzer. Though Harry had said he would drop by sometime in the afternoon, he hadn’t been sure when, depending on his schedule. Rising from the floor, Bronwyn walked to the intercom.

“C’mon up, Harry,” she called.

“How’d you know it was me?” he laughed.

“Nobody else rings my buzzer in the middle of the day,” she chided as she pressed the button to let him in the building.

After opening the door just a crack, Bronwyn sat back down to continue her task. She heard the heavy footsteps on the stairs before the door creaked open a bit more.

“Hi,” he greeted, his foot not quite over the threshold.

Bronwyn looked up from the lens she was cleaning to smile at him. “Hi.”

Harry leant his shoulder against the doorframe as he took in the sight.

“Look at you,” he said.

“What?”

“You look…”

Bronwyn tilted her head. “I look what?”

“Happy,” he replied with a grin.

With a shrug and tinge of a blush, Bronwyn looked back at her lens. “I’m alright. You can come in. No need to stand in the doorway.”

She heard the door shut before Harry stepped into the apartment, his leather loafers clicking on the hardwood floor.

“I take it from your spiffy shoes and ensemble that you’ve either just come from that important meeting you mentioned, or you’re on your way,” Bronwyn remarked as she looked up at him again.

The sun shone through the large window just as Harry beamed at her, reflecting his own light like a prism.

“Actually, it’s both. Had a meeting this morning, but I’ve got another interview later. But I promised I’d stop by with another record.”

“And I said you didn’t have to,” Bronwyn argued.

Harry merely shrugged, a smug expression on his face that made Bronwyn simultaneously want to giggle and slap him.

“No tote bag this time, ‘m ‘fraid,” he said, holding a large paper bag. “Just came from the shop, and this was all they ‘ad.”

Rolling her eyes, her lips twitching as they threatened to smile, Bronwyn rose from the floor to accept the bag.

“It’s one I didn’t see in your collection, and I think you should have,” Harry explained as she pulled out the Zombies album.

“Oh, yes, I’ve been needing this one!” she gasped, quickly flipping it over to examine the back cover. “Thanks, Harry!”

“You’re welcome, love,” he grinned wider, reaching a hand out to touch her arm.

The electricity was almost too much to bear as their eyes locked. As cliche as it sounded in her head, Bronwyn felt as though time had stood still. She suddenly wanted the space between them to erase, but when Harry dropped his hand and cleared his throat, she was a bit disappointed. He’d kissed her just yesterday. He’d said he wanted to continue the kiss. Had something changed?

“Um…I was...just about to make a pot of coffee, would you like some?” she offered.

“Oh. Um...no, actually, I do have to leave in just a few. I only came by to give you the record.”

“Okay,” Bronwyn tried not to frown. She’d known he was busy today. “Is...everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Why?”

“I dunno. Just...making sure. After last night…”

Bronwyn internally groaned at herself. What was she doing? She’d been the one all tough as nails with her guard up, and suddenly one little drop of a hand made her come unglued.

“No,” Harry shook his head, his eyes widening. “God no, love! You mean..” he gestured between them.

Bronwyn shrugged. “I mean, if it’s awkward now…”

“Not at all,” argued Harry as he stepped forward. “If anythin’s awkward it’s just me. I’m trying to…”

“Trying to what?”

“Y’know. Give you time.”

Bronwyn furrowed her brows in confusion as Harry chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m trying to wait and let you take this at your pace. But Jesus, you have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you as soon as I saw you sat there on the floor with the sun shining behind you.”

Bronwyn’s face softening, she took a step forward as well. “Really?”

A smile spreading across his face, Harry nodded. “Yeah.”

As though time wanted to play a cruel trick on them both, Harry’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Shit,” he muttered, looking at the screen. “Sorry, I have to take this. Do you mind?”

Shaking her head, Bronwyn gestured toward the bedroom. Harry walked through the beaded curtain while she tried to busy herself in the kitchen, making the coffee although it was the last thing she wanted now.

She heard Harry say a few short phrases followed by a “sure, thanks Jeffrey,” before he appeared at her side, making her jump.

“Sorry love, I have to go,” he said. They’ve switched some things around, and I have to be somewhere in twenty minutes.”

“No worries.”

“Mind if I use your…toilet before I go?” he asked, wiggling his finger toward the loo.

Bronwyn giggled. “Of course not.”

With the door shut, she let out a deep breath. She could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest. Harry’s confession had thrown her for a loop. One the one hand, she was appreciative of him respecting her boundaries and letting her take her time. But...something had happened when he’d touched her. She’d definitely felt a spark, and so had he. And then hearing him say how badly he’d wanted to kiss her...God, she wanted to kiss him too…

The click of the doorknob startled her, and she turned to see Harry emerge from the bathroom. He looked so handsome in his lavender shirt as he tucked it into the back of his trousers. Before he had a second to even look up, however, Bronwyn strode across the room and backed him into the wall, planting a bold kiss on his mouth.

Surprise was quickly replaced with approval, followed by lust as Harry gladly accepted her advances and fell into the kiss. Moaning slightly, he ran his hands up her back and into her hair, threading his fingers through her curls. Though Bronwyn had been the aggressor, Harry soon took over, guiding their lips and tongues where he thought appropriate. The stubble on his chin and upper lip added friction as he cupped her head, holding her and keeping her where he wanted her to be, with Bronwyn continuing to press her body against his.

Finally releasing each other, their chests fell with heavy breaths. Harry’s face lit up, giving her a signature smirk.

“So does this mean you like me now?” he asked, his voice a couple decibels lower than usual.

“Nope,” Bronwyn replied, popping the P at the end.

“No?”

“Not even close. Not even a little bit.”

“Maybe it means you just hate me a little less.”

“Hmm. Maybe,” she teased, finally backing away from the wall, letting him free.

“Mhm,” Harry nodded as he adjusted himself and headed for the door. “I’ll get there, Bronwyn. You’ll like me eventually. If I have to keep chiseling away at the stone, or peeling back the layers one by one, I’ll get you to like me. I’ll win you over, somehow.”

“Well now, you’re just being cocky. And I really don’t like cocky.”

“Mmm.” Opening the door, Harry turned with another smirk, poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth. “We’ll see about that.”

She couldn’t get him off her mind. Lying in bed, Bronwyn stared at the ceiling. So many emotions had come and gone in the last few days, spinning her life around and flipping it topsy-turvy. Seven years ago...heck, four days ago...she’d never thought she’d ever feel differently about Harry Styles. She’d been determined to despise him forever if that’s what it took, or at the very least eventually feel indifferent until she’d finally forgotten all about him. But now…

Turning onto her side, she quietly hummed one of his songs she’d had stuck in her head all day, even after listening to the Zombie’s record. She could finally admit she really liked his music because...well...she liked him, too.

Just as she began to wonder what he was doing, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Reaching over to retrieve it, she saw it light up again and saw his name displayed. Never had she thought receiving a text in the middle of the night would make her happy. She chuckled, however, when she realised it was barely 11PM.

Are you asleep?

That’s a stupid question. You wouldn’t be able to reply if you were.

Giggling out loud, Bronwyn typed her response.

I’m in bed, but I’m not asleep yet. How was your interview?

It was okay. My mind kept drifting though. Not sure how it’s gonna turn out.

Drifting to what?

You, of course.

Me?

Yes. That kiss.

Bronwyn sent the emoji of the monkey with its hands over its mouth.

Sorry.

Haha no you’re not.

Bronwyn let out a cackle as she imagined Harry’s smug grin.

Sure I am. I don’t want you botching an interview because of me.

Probably my own fault. I was the one who decided to come by before. I reckon I would have kissed you eventually.

Oh, you would have? Bronwyn chaffed.

Maybe.

Well, sorry I beat you to it.

I’m not. It was great.

Bronwyn smiled as she sent a big smiling emoji.

Have to sleep. More work tomorrow. Call you later?

Yes please.

Goodnight Bronwyn x

Night Harry xx

Returning her phone to the table, Bronwyn laid on her back again, shaking her head at herself. Amazing, she pondered, that his voice wasn’t even needed to make her smile. Just knowing he was thinking of her...and that kiss…

Is your heart fluttering yet?

Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

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[madame-fear]

lucerys x reader where lucerys sneaks into their chamber before their betrothal dinner so he can get to know them, they talk about their likes, dislikes, fears, what they want out of the marriage everything and end up falling for the other earlier then either of them expected

*ೃ༄ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 .ೃ࿐

— summary : request — word count : 1.6k

— pairing : lucerys velaryon x reader — genre : fluff

Staring through the window as you observed the sun going down, the light blue colour of the sky slowly disappearing and turning into a blend of rich, vivid orange mixed with the deep pink of the clouds, you nervously fidgeted with the hem of your sleeves as dinner time became nearer with every passing minute.

Anxiety arose your chest, your heart feeling as if it was going to burst out from it in any moment at the thought of the betrothal dinner they had especially prepared for Lucerys Velaryon — your now future Lord Husband — and you, as well as for the recent union of your Houses. While you had the chance to meet the members of his family, whom were all extremely polite and gentle upon the arrival of your House to Dragonstone, you weren't going to meet your betrothed until dinner, which made the knot of anxiety in your stomach worsen, making your hands seem notoriously shaky.

Your mind was racing from thought after thought, you even had some speeches prepared since you knew you'd have to talk to your betrothed, or perhaps talk to his family once again. You had already visualised the worst scenario possible, even if you reassured yourself that everything would be alright, even your own family.

A sudden gentle knock on the door of your guest chamber made you quietly yelp in surprise. You quickly licked your dried lips before you spoke. “Come in.” you half-shouted, your facial expressions flinching with slight cringe at how cracky your voice sounded. As the door was leisurely opened, you encountered yourself with the figure of a young man near your age: hazel eyes, porcelain skin, and curly brunette hair, fangs of curls slightly falling into his face. The moment he made eye contact with you, his words felt stuck on his throat. “I hope I am not disturbing your thoughts.” he began, “You must be Princess (y/n), am I right?” his voice was soft and gentle, slightly feeling shy at your warm presence.

You gave him a single nod in response. “May I come in, princess?” he queried. Muttering a quiet 'yes' in response to his request, your fingers kept playing with the hem of your sleeves.

As soon as you approved of him sneaking into your chamber, he closed the marbled door and made his way towards you. “I know we are actually supposed to meet later at dinner, but I was eager to meet my betrothed and get to know each other properly.” your eyes widened as your cheeks became of a faint rosy colour in realisation, that this boy you just met and already found him rather charming, was your betrothed. There was some sort of relief inside of you, especially at seeing how calmly gentle he was, unlike the idea you always had of being betrothed to an unwanted husband who'd have you as his own personal plaything.

“And you must be... Prince Lucerys Velaryon.” you spoke lowly, offering him a kind smile. “I was rather anxious of meeting you, if I'm honest.” slightly tilting his head at your comment, he returned a tiny, affectionate smile. “I must admit, I was rather nervous of meeting you as well. I never got quite used to the idea of being betrothed to someone,” before he kept speaking, he briefly paused, as his hands were both clasped together behind his back. “but my mother and brother told me all type of good things about you and your House, and now that I have the opportunity to personally meet you, I think they were right after all: you seem quite lovely even if we just met.”

A broad smile danced around your lips, his comments made you nervously giggle with joy at hearing what your betrothed thought about you, your eyes lowering back to your lap. His lips also turned into a wide smile upon seeing yours, and hearing your soft, shy laughter — a shade of intense crimson spreading over both your cheeks. “My family has also told me many things about your House before we arrived here, and even with that, I was vastly anxious.” in a low tone, your eyes kept wandering around your fidgeting fingers.

“Not anymore, I suppose. You're far better than I had honestly imagined for a betrothed.” despite feeling intensely shy at the sensation of his hazel eyes deeply staring you, you suddenly felt bold enough as to dart your gaze towards him. And indeed, he was admiring you. “T-That's a good thing, right?” he joked, trying to lift the anxious atmosphere in the room, noticing how you constantly fidgeted with your hands. A genuine tittering laughter came from your lips.

“You truly have no idea how good that is.” a nervous chuckle escaped your lips. “My idea of being betrothed to someone was always of being stuck in an unhappy, harrowing marriage with either a jerk who'd use me as a personal plaything, or with someone who'd simply ignore me.” shyly, he approached you carefully as you spoke, sitting by your side as he attentively listened to you. “I can tell, you're nothing like that, my Prince.” a scarlet colour glistened on his face at the gentleness of your nature, and how sweetly you spoke about him.

His eyes scanned yours, completely losing himself in the warmth and loving vibe they emanated, and in the wave of different shades of (e/c) around your pupils. Your body slowly began relaxing around him, growing less anxious of what to expect. “I... can say the same, my Lady.” his words briefly hesitated before coming out of his lips, and you could see that — but who could blame him? You were as nervous as he was, but the feelings weren't as intense as they previously were before meeting him.

“I was never truly fond of the idea of betrothing someone as a political arrangement either.” he spoke lowly, yet offering a kind smile. “But, you shouldn't worry, I wouldn't even think about treating you in a wrong way, or ignoring you.” you could tell his words were genuine, which made you feel completely reassured. Though, you were still a bit shy around him, so all you could manage to do wss mumble a quiet 'thank you' in response, both of you notoriously flustered at each other's presence — causing a light awkward silence between the two of you while you stared at the window, taking in the beauty of the sight.

Breaking the silence, he spoke once again; “And how are you liking Dragonstone so far?” turning your eyes to look at him much like he had already one, you briefly cleared your throat. “It's nice.” you retorted. “It has a rather pretty sight to the vast ocean, and the dragon structures seen on both the outside and inside the castle are quite mesmerising.” a sense of pride washed over Luke upon hearing your sweet words of how much you liked Dragonstone so far, because not only Driftmark would be your future home; but Dragonstone as well.

“Is... Is it true that you have dragons?” you inquired back, tilting your head to your side lightly. “I have heard they are grand destructive beasts, but I have never seen one in person.” you continued, fidgeting a bit awkwardly with your fingers.

A smile remained on his rosy lips at your question; it was nice to see you were interested in knowing more about him, his family, and his House's legacy. And so, you were about to be properly informed by him about his family's entire legacy and their dragons, to which, you attentively listened to everything he had to tell you.

🐉💖🐉💖🐉💖🐉💖🐉💖🐉💖🐉💖

Quite some time passed, around two hours and a half or so, and even if the conversation you had with Lucerys at the beginning was rather awkward it then flew rather smoothly as you both realised you had more things in common than you would've imagined. You had similar likings and disliking regarding books, hobbies, thoughts, and other things, and both of you agreed on how would you like your marriage to be.

Though, as you briefly stared at the window while you talked together, you realises it was already fully dark, the bright moon shining, the stars were visible, and the hooting of the owls was heard; meaning, the betrothal dinner would begin soon, and you'd have to be prepared for it.

“Ah, it seems that unfortunately we will have to finish our conversation for now.” Luke retorted, staring outside like you were, while he stood up from where he was sitting, right in front of you, and making his way towards the door of your chambers. “But, I must say, I enjoyed our conversation, and...” as you stood up like he did to prepare yourselves for the betrothal dinner, he turned around before leaving, and continued. “I'm looking forward to keep talking to you, and our marriage. You seem quite lovely.” those last words came out a bit low, but it was enough for you to hear. Of course, not only his cheeks, but yours as well were tinted with an intense shade of scarlet at his comment.

“And so I am, Lucerys.” you retorted, mumbling your words a bit, while your lips quivered into a broad, almost toothy grin — much like him. He swinged the door open, and before he fully left, he rapidly turned around to look at you one last time before meeting you again in the betrothal dinner your families had prepared.

“I'll meet you in the dining hall, my betrothed.” Luke teased lightly as to increase the fluster that already remained on your cheeks, and flashed you a quick wink before closing your chamber's door, and leaving to make his way to the dining room while you giggled to yourself shyly at his actions.

Perhaps your idea of getting betrothed was either wrong, or you are simply lucky to get married to such lovely, gentle future Lord like he was — and you were most definitely keen to spend your life with him.

♡ taglist : ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @kyuupidwrites @capellaadara

[des-no9]

Des! DES!!! Shaking you most rabidly especially as I just got to see Vanquish on the Githmap! This is a question I've had in mind for a while but didn't want to ask you since I KNOW it can be super hard task to describe and I wasn't sure you had thought about it much : What do you imagine Githyanki dances across history and artistic movements to be like? What limbs do you think they focus on? Is it quick rounds but impressive performance or endurance based? What kind of individual and collective formations would there be? Who dances with who if relevant? What peoples on Earth do you draw inspiration from in your head?

I know I know many questions all at once, apologies, but exploring fictional dances makes me very excited oops.

Omg okay NO I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED this has for some reason been on my mind a lot. It stemmed from thinking about Vanquish asking Voss about githyanki dance culture and asking him to show her some. And Voss being so old, he's known what they've had from the beginning, those lost now, some that only live on in him maybe, and he's learned so many through his lifetime.

Anyway.

Okay. I'll kind of start from the beginning with thoughts in their slavery under the ghaik at maybe the possibility of dance, movement and community there.

Githyanki, and dance

note: this is very long!!!! enjoy x

Githyanki, then

I think a lot about what possibility of their community they could have had, what it could have been during then beneath the ghaik. I like to HC that it was probably quite different depending on what colony you were in, what purpose you served, how big it was etc. A larger colony probably had a little more freedom in 'community'. A smaller community is much easier to govern stricter from above. Tighter leashes.

But still, colonies where the githyanki (I'll use that term for them even if they weren't that during that period) were used for bodyguards and bred to fight, yes the ghaik would command them to do as such, but training them to understand fighting separate from commands, to stop bodies atrophying and for their bodies to understand the movements for innate reactions, the githyanki would have trained together.

Potentially from this in any down time they had, or even during their training, they could have developed some sort of dance from their fighting techniques. A way for them to detach from what they know they have to do, to something more pleasurable. For them, and them alone.

Now I'm just speculating at the amount of control the ghaik had over them in their slavery and thralldom. I'm sure there were many varying degrees of control in many situations. Many a small constant to know you are leashed. And then full control for shorter periods when necessary.

And I know there are people that understand when under abuse or slavery after so long, and being giving freedoms, sometimes you cannot, or won't leave.

Anyway, from this period what I'm trying to visualise is that maybe they constructred dance, a dance, various dances, from their training during fighting.

Something that could be easily hidden. Something that was only theirs. Something that could be practiced on 'downtime' and easily covered up as sparring, but when alone and the wrong eyes looked away, the right eyes looking on, it was art and beauty and love and laughter.

With dances like this, I think a lot clearly about the motions and movement of capoeira.

Githyanki, free

Looking at the other side, the other colonies that maybe unlike the martial ones, or the larger ones (I HC Voss was from a martial one, but a smaller, strict, and quite horrific one. #1 blorbo must suffer) and I think sometimes about the fact that maybe a lot of newly annointed githyanki weren't used to touch.

Touch in a gentle way, affectionate way. A mutual way. A wanted way. Maybe many had never touched another body other than their own, or an enemies. Maybe they'd never seen their reflection but in the mud stained blood stained puddle they'd been ordered in their head to run over can't stop can't stop-

I like thinking a lot about in the early days of githyanki for maybe a large section of them was discovering their own bodies. The bodies of their kin. What it really felt like to touch someone and laugh and feel something other than rage and fear and pain. Joy and life and love.

Those from the larger martial colonies who had dance, maybe started to offer a way to help them explore this through their dance. And so from this, new githyanki dance(s) evolved.

Exploration. Intimacy. Curiosity. Joy. Intensity.

I see a lot of these dances maybe initially being led by the more knowledgable partner. Letting the more inexperienced and curious one feel the other's body through the moves of dance. Slow, often. Lots of continual body contact. Barely any clothing. Lots of movement of limbs to understand their movement in dance and outside of 'normal' functions. See what your body can do! Let me show you! I visualise a lot of the movements and motion here with ballet. Especially modern ballet. Ballet dancing movement for githyanki just fits for me.

I think there would be so much reconnection for the githyanki at this period of time with their bodies. I have HCs that there could/would be some physicaly variation in the githyanki at this period too, depending on which colony they came from. So dances like these would be wonderful for different looking githyanki physically to explore one another's bodies and differences and connect, that even if we look different, you bled to kill, I to breed, we are kin.

Those who would be githzerai

Another area I was thinking about in regard to this was those who started to fall in with Zerthimon. Those who followed his teachings, and eventually became the githzerai. I even think here about Orpheus and his honour guard because in essence they fight as monks. (and then I HC Orpheus as Zerth and Gith's son and a whole thing anyway lmao).

Originally, those in the martial colonies I think would have really loved the capoeira style of dance and developed that even further within their fighting and dancing style. Some may say when watching a graceful monk fight it is between dance and violence. When watching some of the more power punch heavy ones fight though, that's pure strength that you can feel rattle your teeth.

I don't think as much about githzerai as I do githyanki (a failing on my part I know lmao) but I think maybe one of their styles of dance is quite similar to the Indian classical dance of Kathak. I just like thinking about it a lot as a form of storytelling and maybe this is a way the githzerai enjoy telling stories in a place where there is more of a family presence and also the passage of time, unlike the Astral Sea. Also there is a lot of upper body and arm movement in Kathak and monks and githzerai = punchy lads.

I also think a lot about githzerai having a lot dances that you can do solo, in contrast to the githyanki who have a lot more dances you do with someone, or even more than one person. That physical connection with someone else feels to me like a source of such integral just, being for githyanki. Whereas githzerai maybe it's a little more different.

Githyanki, now

I think the initial dance of exploration of body has survived in the githyanki to now, in that it has evolved in different ways throughout the years. This intense intimacy of a cotninual body contact dance. Not once letting go of each other as we dance together. Our bodies as one, experience teaching inexperience. Let me bleed into you and give you what I know.

Maybe as the githyanki grew more detached from community, family, love - as Vlaakith I took power and the further Vlaakiths cemented their power and ideologies to now as we see the githyanki of today, the dances changed. Grew rougher. Maybe with more violence.

I think maybe even some took something sacred like this and took it into their raiding culture and turned it brutal.

For example, capturing an istik you are unfamiliar with, and exploring their new body without consent with this dance in-front of all your githyanki friends at the raid. What is the istik going to do? But it feels very raiding culture githyanki thing to do. Especially if you do not know or understand the origins of the dance in a way that someone like Voss would understand it. Maybe the origins of it is lost, hidden, forbidden, warped. For something like that is SO long in terms of history. Far over a thousand years. Just think about something over a thousand years in our history. Accuracy? Forget it.

Other types of dances for githyanki that exist now I think would be: For solo, I think they'd do something like fancy sword dancing? I remember seeing a video of a guy doing this insanely beautiful sensual dance with his sword and I thought.......githyanki lol. Like the githyanki fighters treat their silver swords like an extension of their own bodies. I really think they'd have a dance that would show that. All grace and fluidity and lots of skin showing for the danger.

Also if they're a gish maybe they would fire dance, or use magic in some way. I just think githyanki love to show off lol. And skirt with danger a lot. Also fire is associated a lot with their dragons. They're comfortable with it.

Foreplay. Now, I think a lot about githyanki sex (clearly from 2 secs on my blog). And a lot of the young, wild raiders are in and out (lmao) or rough and wild and don't give a fuck. Trophy istiks. Take and you're mine. Blood and fuck. Maybe some older ones too. Especially with modern githyanki with the way they have all been twisted and turned into a cultish society by Vlaakith(s) and their creche system and the void of family and nurturing community and the inability to spell love.

But, the githyanki aren't a monolith. They are spread wide and far and pockets of creches in different planes and some grow at different paces and anomolies in ages (Voss lol) and different hearts and heads and then Orpheus is back and a rebellion has been slow brewing as long as Orpheus has been in chains and and--

what I'm trying to say is that there are probably so many different styles and dances that vary by creche and region and even Tu'narath style for X dance compared to Githmir style or Creche T'lak style and I could go on.

And then there are githyanki that love foreplay. That agonising, but beautiful build up to when there is nothing in these planes but my skin your skin the taste of your blood and mine.

Dance is foreplay.

I thnk a variation of the 'explore and understand your body' has DEFINITELY survived and turned into this. And maybe the leader/more dominant urges their partner to dance and touch and move where on their body they like to be touched, want to be touched, never breaking contact, but not touching their partner with hands until sex. Just body to body, hands free. Maybe brushing together as they move. But no hands to body. Just body, to body. Show me how you move. Let your body move in ways you didn't know. See corners of mine you didn't.

The above is what I was thinking about a lot with Voss and Vanquish and what Voss teaches her. This and the original dance he learned as a newly annointed githyanki. Voss was one of the ones who needed to learn his, and others bodies, and this dance means a lot to him, and he's kept the original close and deep in his heart and sharing the original with Vanquish is a Real Moment for him. Exposing and probably another way to say "I'm letting you in, istik no more".

Side note, githyanki with partners who aren't githyanki I think also like using the body exploring dance a lot as a bonding experience. But I HC githyanki just innately have much less hangups about their bodies than istik do, so it might take a little bit of build up or stepping stones to get the full githyanki dance experience. But when they do.... :3

Okay I think I have rambled A LOT about githyanki dancing and I think that covers some of the ideas I had LOL. I hoped you and anyone else who read this enjoyed. It was an absolute delight to write. As it always is to write any githyanki HC and worldbuilding.

-Des x

[b00tyliciousbabe]

Guys who could rearrange and flood my guts…pt 1

Welcome to the new hit series, “Guys who I need to clap tf out of my fat ass cheeks.” DISCLAIMER: do not judge me, i fantasise a lot but (unfortunately) irl I ain’t done anything (yet 🤭)

Logan Mandeville

WARNING: THIS IS LONG AF AND NOT PROOFREAD BUT ENJOY.

This guy just gives off BDE, I mean look at him; the toned abs, the strong arms, the body hair - he’s a fucking unit. In my opinion, he’s ugly hot as well, one of my biggest weaknesses. I’m from the UK and he legit looks like one of those white chavs/roadmen that would spark you if you even looked at them, and I find that so attractive. Ughhh I can just imagine him talking so tough and chavvy 😩 but at the same time I can picture him with a Boston accent and that literally makes me wanna suck the soul out of his dick. I kinda think I’m projecting my dream guy qualities onto him because I find him so leng but idc because I love it MWAHAHAAAA

Keeping the roadman aesthetic, I keep fantasing abt sucking him off in his tracksuit and eventually him piping me on the hood of his car. Let’s visualise, he looks like a Liam so for the sake of smut that’s what we are gonna call him…

(setting the scene: you guys are at a party)

It was a cool autumn night,

“Babe you look so fit tonight.” Your boyfriend said grabbing your waist and pulling your lips together. He had always loved seeing you in his brown leather jacket, it looked so big on you, but everyone loved how you styled the look. The kiss lasted for what felt like forever. The lights, the music, the people all drowned out, the only think that mattered rn was the two of you. “So do you,” you said as he stopped tongue fucking your mouth.

See the relationship u had with him was something special. From the moment he laid eyes on you, Liam wanted you to be his. Everyone at school loved you - the nerds, the band kids, the cheerleaders even the students who were basically alienated. What wasn’t to love? All of them…except the homophobes 🤮🤮, and since Liam was captain of the football team, he was guilty by association. That didn’t stop you from finding him attractive. You guys were never even meant to meet. But the day your lives became the storyline of an American teen show and he needed to raise his grade in English, was the day you both SAW each other.

“I’m never going to be as smart as you, no one can compare to the way you are.” Liam told you, and if you weren’t black, you would’ve even as bright as a tomato. “Look at me, you are gonna ace that test, you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for Li” You smiled at him, the eye contact just increasing the sexual tension between you two. “Tell you what,” he said licking his lips whilst staring at you twirling your hair and marking his essay, “if I pass this exam” “WHENNN” you interrupted, “when I pass this exam, would you wanna, maybe go on a date?” You smiled at him so innocently, “Of course, but it means you have to get at least 70%” “70%!! I’m barely pushing 50, omds.” Stop talking negatively, i want you to pass more than you think I do, now more than ever” I defended as Liam smirked at your newfound interest in being with him. Your bf went onto get a 87% in the exam, 2nd highest to ur 98%, and ofc that meant you had to go on a date.

(BACK TO THE STORY) you left him to chat to his teammates who loved your relationship, talk abt growth 👏👏 you went to talk to some of your best friends and the vibe was just so good. Everyone was dancing to the Weeknd. It was crazy in a good way obv. All of a sudden the captain of your school’s rival team starts touching on you. “yooo chill, don’t touch on me like that,” you said and your friends helped you to forget about him. “He’s such a perv, as if you would do anything,” they said “I know right, like I know I look good but come on” you attested. But he didn’t stop and Liam could see you were uncomfortable from the other side of the room. He stared with anger, as he downed his shot of whiskey. He moved towards you. “Is there a problem here babe,” he kissed your cheek as he hugged you from behind. “Nah, Li there’s no issue,” you smiled smugly at the dickhead who tried moving to you. “Can we go love?” You stared up at him. “Of course.” He said gripping your waist tighter, your eyes calming him down. You held his hand, rubbing his forearm to soothe him. “Yh Liam, listen to your lil (f-slur) bitch,” The whole party turned silent. He stopped walking, and you looked back at him to see he was fuming. “Li-Li, just ignore him,” you said with teary ish eyes and shallowed breath. He wiped your cheek. “You go I’ll see you in a bit,” He signalled to your friends to take you outside. “No, I ain’t leaving without you” you gripped his hand. “Babe, I’ll be out in a minute, just go”. Your friends helped you get out of there. The rest was a blur; You remember that your man walked out of that house with a bloodied shirt and blood covered broken knuckles, but at least he was consciously walking, and didn’t have to spend 6 months on life support, limping with a leg that would never kick the same. But hey, no one messes with you.

[darksoul6444]

Haiiiii friend!!!!! :D

If I may ask, what's your drawing process like? I've seen your speedpaints, but I do wonder what layer types you use and such :P

Sure ^^

I made the last post i made as a speedpaint. For it to be a example :0

First of all I'm using IbisPaint

1. Sketch

Just making general sketch how I would like it to be etc.

Here I just made one 1 but sometimes I made sketch on sketch if the first one is too messy.

2. Sketch Flat colors

Making seperate layer and coloring the sketch

3. Checking proportions

I'm not doing that much always. Usually just checking if everything is alright and if it's not moving with liquify pen. Here I did a bit more. I made another layer painted on everything in red and then moved everything.

4. Setting lightning on sketch.

Now I'm setting lightning on sketch to visualise and reused some of the lightning layers later.

1 layer multiply.

I choose the main color for the lightning. Here was dark blue. So I made whole canva that color. Set it to multiply. (Idk how much % I set here because later I merge layers) I usually set layers opacity here like 15%-50%. To be honest it depends. Just lower the opacity.

1 add layer

I made main yellow lightning from the lantern. Set it to add. Lower the layer opacity.

5. Merging sketch layers

I merge sketch and sketch flat colors layers together. And lower opacity.

6. Sometimes lineart i guess??? Sometimes fuck lineart and colors

Usually i turn off layers from nr 4 here

I really hate lineart so I'm not always making it :3

Here really depends if my sketch is really clean. (They usually not)

If they are:

I overpaint on it make it clean. In someplaces making lineart to some elements from scratch. (Here example eyes.)

If they are not but lineart is in a huge focus:

I just make lineart

Pain

If they are not but it's not a huge focus:

I use a brush with outline

Really depends but I usually mixing those 3 steps

And ofc doing flat color

7. Setting down the atmosphere ?

I turn on nr 4 layers which are lightning.

Here if I like i add more multiply and add layers if I want.

And adding things

It really depends to be honest

Here I added some leaves

To not make them the main point of focus I blured them. Filters in ibispaint -> Blur -> Gaussian blur

8. Lightning

Add layer on add layer on add layer....

Multiply layer on multiply layer on multiply layer....

To be honest this is the best explanation because I used add and multiply like crazy. Depend but here I had at least 5 add layers and at least 7 multiply.

But let's try disassemble steps.

Main add layer:

Main lightning for example here tips of the fingers. I use almost white like yellow but not white.

Another add layer:

Under the main add layer I use 20% airbrush (btw this is the main brush which I use a lot). Set it to add. It's to make less hard edges. I think you can see on hair the best.

Multiply layers:

I made multiply layer and make everything darker. I usually use dark blue or purple. If the lightning is more daylike i use dark red.

If something is not dark enough I just made another multiply and use a bit darker color then before. Later if not enough do it again and again.

Other add layers:

If i'm not satisfied with lightning so far. I add some yellow with 20% airbrush. Just like multiply do it again until it's alright.

9. Lightning part 2 elements

If I had some elements for example here leaves.

I duplicate layer with them. Choose the layer which is under the other one.

Filters in ibis -> Adjust color -> Black and white

Usually making it black with it but there are some situations when I use white.

It's just for the shadow

Next after making it black move the layer a bit. Lower the opacity.

10. Merging everything

11. Having fun with filters

Here there should be just 1 layer. Duplicate.

Blur:

Choose the layer above.

Filters -> Blur -> Gaussian Blur

Set the opacity on 5%-10‰ something like that

Now duplicate the first layer again (not the blur one) if I said duplicate later I mean the same layer

Noise:

Now u should have 3 layers. Choose 2 one.

Filters -> Artistic -> Noise

Adjust and lower the opacity

Duplicate 1 layer again

Gradation map:

Filters -> Adjust color -> Gradation map

Set the map u like. Here I used yellow, purple one. Mostly I use the basic one which is red blue.

Set the layer to overlay and lower the opacity

Not everyone has gradation map. Parallel gradiation is a great alternatve. It's in draw section.

Those are the usually 3 I use everytime. But mostly I'm just playing with it and checking what's best.

The other ones which I sometimes use: Anime background, glitch, chromatic abberation, retro game, bloom, stained glass.

And it's the same for those like with gradation map

Set overlay and lower the opacity

As you can see in a speedpaint here I struggle to choose xd

12. Merging

Merge everything again

13. Playing with brushes

Here I choose some brush and add finishing toches

Sometimes i add some dots, sparkles etc.

Depending on what I do I set the brush layer on add, multiply, overlay, screen, hard light or soft light.

Sometimes I also use glitch or chromatic abberation on the brush layer.

Here is a example in speedpaint.

I used rain like? I guess brush. Set add. Filters -> Artistic -> chromatic abberation. Duplicate layer. Set the one below to blur. And that's how I made the efect. Erase with 20% eraser the ones which are to bright.

14. Finished ^^

I think i explain everything

At least I hope so

Anyway thanks for the ask have a great day ^^

[reliquiaenfr]

What is Aphid and Shiana's relationship like?

so shiana and aphid are based on ocs of mine! i looooove talking about my ocs ahaha

shiana is an oracle (in their original story, she's the second in charge of a church of oracles, but in fr she's just an oracle), she's a bit cheeky and doesn't take things as seriously as she ought to - though at least SOME of that is an act, she actually had a pretty traumatic event happen to her when she was younger so underneath the snark, she's very grounded. (the story is that since she can "pull" on the threads of fate to change the future, she thought she could help people and when she was younger she tried to expose someone for their misdeeds by meddling with their future, but it got her mentor killed instead, and since then she's been very VERY careful about what she does with her power). since shiana still wants to help folks, she has to find other ways to do it.

aphid (her real name is tao li, but she goes by aphid, mostly, and also other psuedonyms) is a spy academic. she's from a monastery village, worked in a library, and loves learning things. the only thing she loves more than reading things in a book is learning them in person. she's a bit of a stickler for rules and can come across as having a stick up her butt because she's a bit inflexible and snobbish lol.

all of which is to say that they have the sort of relationship that others look at and go 'but... why tho?' because shiana comes across as way too chill for aphid, and aphid is the kind of person who would unironically wear a no fun allowed shirt. but aphid is the only person shiana ever told the story about her dead mentor and aphid like... gets it. a lot of their initial friendship was built on the possibilities that teaming up would afford them: shiana can see when something unsavoury is going to happen, and aphid has the soft-spoken tenacity to do something about it.

as part of a governing group, shiana had access to a lot of resources, and aphid has the unassuming demeanour to use them without making others suspicious. so they started trying to help people and change the bleak futures that shiana saw without directly rewriting the future. now, they're both different kinds of hopelessly gay, and in exact opposite directions: shiana didn't want to mess things up with aphid bc aphid was like... her best friend, you know? someone who understood her fears and her powers. aphid didn't want to ruin what they had going either, but UNLIKE shiana, she's scarily observant and figured shiana out in ten minutes lmao.

these days, they're the annoying sort of in-synch couple that can have entire conversations in a single glance. aphid is very uncomfortable with public affection, so she often seems quite cold to shiana when others are around, but she absolutely adores that silly woman and she does a lot of things shiana will like (gifts, special date things, massaging shiana's scalp, etc). and although shiana likes to tease her (even in public), she always respects aphid's no pda preferences. it's extremely common for someone meeting them for the first time to have no idea at all that they're together, but once you know it's obvious.

their communication is fucking top notch also. it has to be because aphid can't see into shiana's head to visualise the futures she's seeing and how best to change them, so even before they got together, they were super good at talking things out. aphid's comfort boundaries are so excuriatingly well defined that it's like... shiana knows when it's okay to touch aphid's hand or back or something more intimate and when it's not. and althought shiana wasn't the most comfortable expressing her own boundaries to begin with, aphid is just very blunt about it all, she's like "well see, shiana, i happen to love you and i don't want you to do something that will fuck that up so here is my rulebook" and after that shiana was pretty cool with talking her feelings and desires out.