#i have so many wips but my brain is working against me

[grimmweepers]

it's crazy how you mentally want to write something so badly, like you actually have the motivation for it, but the moment you open gdoc, it's as if you suddenly forget every word in existence

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

making a sorta wip/unfinished compilation video thing for all the vsynth projects ive sorta lost interest in/abandoned sounds like it'd be fun to do and help me clear up some space on this got damn computer but im always like uouguhhh but what if it fucking sucks :( when it comes to like actual cover stuff 😔✌️ like mannn

[quiet-onset]

seeking refuge

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

wc: 1.5k

summary: carmy is having a day, and you want him to get lost in you.

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact!!!, unprotected sex, overstimulation (character and reader)

a/n: is this realistic? probably not. but that's why it's fanfiction! i truly do not remember writing most of this, but i was looking through my wips to find something work on and came across this already finished fic from last year lol. enjoy!

He had the look in his eye. That look had him curling in on himself, shoulders slumped as his mind ran wild. Every once in a while, he’d get lost in his own thoughts, a complete mashup of all the anxiety-inducing shit he’d ever encountered. Money, renovations, Michael, don’t miss NA meeting, walk-in door handle, Ma, menu, run menu ideas by Sydney, Sugar, and oh shit, Sugar’s baby, right, I’m an uncle—

“Carm?”

Like some sort of psuedo-siren, your voice called him back to stable ground, away from troubled waters. Still, he was merely wading when his eyes focused on you. His lips pulled up in an anxious smile, the best he could give you at the moment. “Hey, sorry, hey. I’m here.” He said, nodding his head. Then, his brow furrowed, and he shook away the confusion. “Wait, what are you doin’ here?”

“Richie called, said you might need the rest of the day off.”

Carm rolled his eyes and stood from the office chair, stepping past you to yell at Richie from the doorway. “Cousin!”

“Uh-uh, you are not fuckin’ up my flow today, cousin. I’m in the zone. Take that anxiety bullshit elsewhere, heard?” Richie dismissed him before he could make his defense.

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you, too. See ya tomorrow.” Richie replied. “I need hands, chefs!”

You chuckled behind Carm, wrapping your arms around his waist. You pressed your cheek against his back and immediately felt some of the tension there roll away. “That training did a number on him.” You commented.

“Too smart for his own good now.” Carmen added.

You leaned up to press a soft kiss against his ear. “Come home, bear.”

It was only a matter of time after that. He’d explained the issue on the way home, or at least tried to. “I dunno, there’s just too many thoughts and not enough time or space. Feel like my brain’s gonna fuckin’ explode, just get lost in my goddamn mind.”

He almost pulled over and dragged you into the backseat at your reply. “Get lost in me instead.”

And he did. He managed to keep himself contained long enough to get home, but once there, he wasted no time. A mere fifteen minutes later, and he had you on your back, legs spread about his waist as his thick, hard cock stretched you open. You held on for dear life as your pussy clenched around him, wet and sticky with your arousal.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby. ‘S exactly what I needed.” He panted. “So fuckin’ wet.”

You could barely form the words to respond, hips canting up with each thrust, chasing the pleasure. Not that it mattered to Carmen, he was content with the sweet moans and whimpers that fell without pause from your lips. He adored the sounds you made and strove to pull them out of you as he pounded you into the mattress. He stopped for a brief moment when he felt your walls tighten, groaning deep in his chest. One hand gripped at the back of your thigh and pushed, spreading you wider. The other slid forward until his elbow was pressed against the mattress next to your head, and he buried his face in your neck.

“Gonna make me come ‘f you keep squeezin’ like that, baby.” His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and wet against your skin.

“Can’t he-help it.” You whined prettily. “Feels good. Please don’t stop, gonna come.”

“Yeah? Gonna come on this dick?” His hand reached down to toy with your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you cried out his name.

All you could do is nod, your moans getting louder as your orgasm approached. And then, pleasure so good, tears pricked at your eyes. Your back arched, your breasts pressed into his chest, you moaned his name. That white-hot bliss pulsed in every part of you, almost like it was being torn from you. Your cunt clamped around him, and you’re sure if you looked down, a ring of your arousal would coat the base of his cock.

Like all he needed was your pleasure, his finish hit him like a truck seconds later. An unending string of fuck, fuck, fuck as he pumped his come into you, the white, warm streams of him coating your walls. His balls pulsed hard as he gave you long, slow strokes, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with one particularly deep thrust.

And even though his pace had slowed, his hips didn’t stop. The overstimulation was starting to set in, your stomach flipping deliciously at the continuous pleasure. Still, he was strangely quiet, so you wanted to make sure he was okay.

“C-Carmy,” You whimpered out. “You still with me, bear?”

You expected a pause, a wait, but the answer was immediate. “‘F course I am. Nowhere else I’d rather be. Goddamnit.”

“Carmen?”

“Gotta have you again.”

You didn’t have time to process his words before he was pulling out of you and flipping you over. He hastily grabbed a pillow and lifted your hips to slide it under. Even in the orgasmic-haze that fogged his brain, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Still-hard cock in hand, he stroked himself firmly as he kneeled behind you. His free hand gripped at the fullness of your ass, pulling lightly until he could see the mess he’d made of your pussy, a mixture of yours and his come dripping out of you. It might've drenched the pillowcase, but the thought hadn’t even passed Carmen’s mind. He just leaned over you until his nose was buried in your hair, pressing himself into your sweet cunt once more. You let out a loud moan of his name, your tight walls still fluttering post-orgasm.

“Didn’t want your legs to get sore.” He mumbled as he started fucking you again, slow and deep. “Shit, I need to keep goin'. Need to fill you up again.”

“‘S too good, oh my god.” You cried out. At this angle, the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Gonna let me keep goin’, right? Let me keep fuckin’ my cock into you, fillin’ your sweet little cunt with my come? Gonna let me get lost in you, pretty girl?”

On one hand, you weren’t sure where this Carmen came from. It wasn’t like he was silent during sex, but he never talked this much. Never this filthy. It was like his pleasure controlled him, the overstimulation working double-time to control his body and mind at once. With every word, his pace got faster, his thrusts deeper, inhibiting your ability to speak. 

It wasn’t made better when Carmen wrapped his arm around your neck, his bicep pressing lightly against your throat. A ragged gasp passed through your lips as he gave an experimental squeeze, timed perfectly with a deep thrust of his cock. He pressed his cheek against yours as you nodded eagerly, hoping the response would suffice.

“That’s it, baby, that’s fuckin’ it. So good to me all the goddamn time.” He groaned, hips bouncing off your ass with every thrust. “Pullin’ me out my head, makin’ me feel good. Perfect girl for me. Perfect girl with a perfect fuckin’ cunt, shit.”

He kept going and going and going, only relishing in a short rest each time. A setting sun and four orgasms later — five, for him — he was still burying his overstimulated cock in your overstimulated pussy. You were on your side now, facing him with your leg thrown over his hip. Each slow thrust of his dick and every pulse of your puffy cunt was laced with pain, but the pleasure was still there, too, making it hard to think. But for Carm, his mind was clear, the only thing left a vision of your sweaty face contorted with mind-numbing pleasure-pain.

One hand pulled you closer by your ass, the other brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead. “So pretty like this, baby. Could do this all fuckin’ day.”

“Carm, ‘s too much.” You gasped, eyes wide as you looked up at him. “Feels too good.”

He wiped a tear from your cheek, feeling his balls throb hard, almost painfully, as he plunged his cock deeper into you. “I know, I know. Just need another one, need to keep going till I’m fuckin’ empty. You can do that, right? You can take it.”

And sure, the overstimulation may have been clouding your judgment. But one look at his blue eyes, glazed over and needy, and you wanted to keep going. You wanted to lay there and let him take what he needed until he was spent, till all the anxious thoughts he ever had faded from memory. Your pussy tightened at the thought as you wondered how long it would take before he fucked his mind completely empty.

And just like that, he was coming again. Your sticky walls coaxed it out of him, pulsing around him until his hips stuttered. With the number of loads he’d already pumped into you, you couldn’t even feel the new warmth of his come. You only knew it was there when his cock pushed back inside, and come dribbled out of you and down your thigh.

And not a moment later, you were on your back again, and he was fucking you headfirst into your sixth orgasm. You and Carmen had a long night ahead of you. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Let me know if you want more. Didn't get too much on Part 1 but I have ideas so...

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your third week begins in the same place. Before the iron gate, the code unlocking the green maze within. You’re still just as impressed as your first day there. To you, it’s like a fantasy. Entirely unattainable but it’s right there. You can look, but you can’t touch… not beyond cleaning.

You linger outside, not thinking. You admire the tall tulips and the hedge trimmed to resemble some landmark you can’t quite place. You could see a place like this in an Austenian film or perhaps something Victorian. You don’t have an eye for the difference.

You key in the code for the backdoor and continue on. You put covers on your shoes and grab a fresh set of gloves. You’re getting into a pattern, though each client differs slightly. You put your things away and bring your water bottle with you. You bought a cool strap that keeps it against your hip, a small splurge with your first paycheck. The rest went to bills.

As you start on your usual journey through the many rooms of the airy house, you wonder how its sole resident isn’t lonely. Or perhaps he is. He doesn’t seem the type to admit to it. You turn your thoughts back to your work. You try not to think of him, truly, you don’t know much of him.

You take a candlestick and polish it. You move on the small globe; an ivory orb on a silver axes, the outlines of the continent carved into the surface. As you put it back, you notice something. An item you can’t recall being there before. You reach for it but stop as you realise it’s a camera.

You retract your hand and move on to dust the shelf itself. Does he not trust you or was it there before? Of course, somewhere like this would need security. There was a story just the other day about a break-in, but that was closer to your father’s where those culprits dwell.

The second floor is always easier. It seems even less lived-in than below. All but the study and the main bedroom. You flit in and out, checking points off the list until you’re content. You can only hope he will be too.

As you descend, the epiphany tickles your brain. It’s the first shift he hasn’t appeared. It’s easy to assume he’s busy. You don’t expect him to hang around. As if he would supervise you. Besides, that’s probably what the cameras are for.

You pack up and get your single refill of water. You leave the way you came, as you have twice before. The keypad flashes red to signal the lock is in place. You haul your kit higher on your shoulder and tread slowly along the little path along the side of the house.

You look at the gazebo trimmed in hanging ivy. It’s beautiful. You’d like to venture up and sit on that bench. Just sit and watch and smell and feel. You force the thought away and turn back along the stonework.

You’re going home. Not to pollen but tobacco smoke. Not to lush gardens but wilting strands in soggy mud. Not to immaculate floors and pristine decor but to stained walls and broken springs in your mattress. 

Home, to another man that makes you nervous.

🧹

Your father is as he always is, smoking on the couch. You say hi as you come in with a bag of groceries, the prize for what was left of your check. He grumbles and flicks through the channels. You go to the kitchen to put away the food.

You’re almost at the end of your first month, a third of the way through your probationary period. Hopefully after that, you can pick up more clients. You shut the cupboard and go back to the living room. Your father coughs into a crumpled tissue. He sounds horrible. You can’t say so, he doesn’t seem to care.

“I got some fresh produce,” you announce proudly, “I’ll steam some veggies with the chops.”

“You get fries?” He growls.

“Uh, no,” you admit, “I thought we could eat something healthier–”

“I don’t like steamed veggies,” he drops the remote and grabs his pack of smokes.

“Oh, sorry, I was only thinking–”

“Don’t lie and say you were,” he snorts as he pulls out a cigarette and taps the end of the pack. “Go on, I’m tryna watch this.”

He nods at the television and you follow his gaze to the rerun of All in the Family. He’s seen them all before. You take the dismissal and retreat up to your room. Like you always do.

It’s always been like this. You don’t hate your father but sometimes it feels like he hates you. You put your kit and your water bottle on your dress and change into clean clothes. You lay in bed and close your eyes, trying to let go of the tension in your muscles.

You don’t remember your mom but he does. You assume that’s why he’s like this. It’s not you, it’s what happened. Tragic. A loss he won’t talk about.

You rub your forehead and let your arms fall to bend on either side of your head. You only ever saw one picture of your mother. You don’t think you look like her. She was pretty. And young. You were always too afraid to ask about her but you could tell she was younger than him. No one could’ve expected her to go so soon.

You close your eyes. It’s a strange sort of grief to miss someone who is only a shadow in your mind. Not even a voice, just this ghost you know by name. Mommy…

You blow out a deep breath in an effort to bid away the sadness. That was so long ago. This is now and you have a lot to worry about.

🧹

The Laufeyson house greets you once more with its elaborate brickwork. It’s starting to feel familiar, like a habit to put in the new code and walk along the winding path around to the back door. Six more numbers and you’re inside; shoe covers, gloves, bottle, and the list.

You always check the new email sent by the agency. There’s always something small and new squeezed into the bullet points. This week, you notice the first task is laundry. 

‘Retrieve hamper from hallway. When hamper is left outside door, it means clothes must be washed.’

Easy enough. You go upstairs first and take the tall hamper from beside the door frame. It’s heavy and there’s no wheels to aid in your struggle. The laundry room is downstairs. Your descent is treacherous, one step at a time as you haul the basket down step by step. If Mr. Laufeyson is there, he can’t happy with the noise.

You finally get to the machine and follow the instructions about cycle type and separating colours from whites. However, there is only the bedding to be cleaned. You load the linens in and take a moment to figure out the touchscreen. Your father’s machine has a dial that only works on one setting and gives off a dingy stench.

You leave the basket in front of the washer and retreat to start your usual progression through the urban manse. Mop, sweep, dust, vacuum, polish; hallway, kitchen, dining room, sitting room… Nothing unusual or unexpected.

As you cross the narrow foyer to the den, the sunshine glows a warm orange through the slender windows on either side of the front door. The patterning of the glass reflects prettily on the floor. Despite your best efforts, you can’t help but imagine residing somewhere so brilliant.

You sigh and carry on. You’re sure to open the long drapes to let in the late spring sunshine. It’s not so bad working in the light and you can see where the rare spec of dust is hiding. You go to the tall shelf beside the record player and pull out the albums to wipe beneath them. Music would be jarring in a place always so silent.

You slip the albums back into place, pulling out one to admire the cover; Ane Brun. You’ve never heard of them. You read the track list curiously. You know you shouldn’t be wasting time.

“I don’t believe I’d have anything to your taste on my shelf,” the mocking slither has you pushing the album in line with the rest.

You almost apologise but you remember. You don’t speak. You just clean. So clean.

You glance over at Mr. Laufeyson as he struts in, a book held in one hand as his other is tucked in his pocket. He wears his usual pressed attire; a dark button-up and even darker slacks. You note that he has no tie that day. A single curl dangles by his temple as the rest of his black hair is precisely combed back.

You return to your tasks, gently wiping the cover of the record player and along the stand. You  hear the book drop onto the low table before the sofa before his footsteps continue on; closer. He approaches as you get to the next shelf, a collection of EPs in unmarked sleeves.

You wince as he stops near you, flipping up the cover of the sleek record player before stepping back to peruse his selection. You do your best to keep on as he looms. The air is thick and suffocating. Should you go to the next room and come back?

He slips a record free of its sleeve and places it carefully on the players. He moves the needle over and flips the switch, a crackle before the sound drones from the tall standing speakers. Acoustic guitar with a gritty feel to it. The sudden addition of a woman’s voice jolts you; her tone is peculiar but not unpleasant.

When I woke I took the backdoor to my mind And then I spoke I counted all of the good things you are

He backs away without a word. Not an explanation. You finish cleaning the second shelf and dare to glance over. He reads his book on the couch, unbothered by your existence. That isn’t too unfamiliar.

You finish the space but leave the vacuuming for later. You wouldn’t want to ruin the music. You go into what you can only call a sunroom. The french doors peek out onto the garden and a patio set with a large dining set in white iron and glass.

The music drifts in and keeps you company. It almost makes the work easier. You make quick work and go to check the washer to switch over the load. Once you have the dryer figured out, you begin on the second floor.

It’s only as you come out of one of the guestrooms that you notice the silence is returned. You turn down the hallway and near the next door. You enter the study with your usual reverence. Something about the space is intimidating. 

The large leather chair with its dimpled back and the even bigger desk; slabs of marble set into polished ebony. Shelves of a similar material, decked out with numerous volumes and the occasional ornament. Some appear even to be genuine artifacts. The rug at the centre is patterned in Persian style.

Behind the desk are a set of doors that open onto a balcony. The drapes are drawn shut. You find that is often the case. It’s a sombre and dark space hidden from the bright gardens without. Your tasks here are minimal. You use the hand vacuum and dust the shelves. You aren’t to touch the desk at all.

A shadow startles you as you drag the cloth along the edge of the bookshelf. Your eyes round and you look over as Mr. Laufeyson enters. You blanch but he doesn’t acknowledge you. He sighs and goes to the desk, sitting in the chair and wheeling it closer. You narrow your sights on the shelves; focus.

You feel a tremble but quickly shake it away. This is his home, he must be able to exist within it, but this feels strange, almost deliberate. Is he trying to make some point? To scare you? You remember the mention of those who came before you. Did they quit or did he dismiss them? Regardless, you can’t afford either.

It isn’t that difficult to follow the rules. Don’t speak? You haven’t much to say. You get closer as you advance along the shelves to the back of the office. He lets out another long exhale. His chair creaks, once, twice, and again.

“Hm,” he rolls back and swivels, an action you observe from the corner of your eye. He tuts and wheels back to the desk, resuming tapping on the keys of his slender laptop. The glow limns his silhouette sinisterly.

You rustle the drapes as you pass them and cross to the opposite shelves. As you brush over the spines of the books, you nearly drop the cloth. His low hum frightens you as he mimics the same melody that played from the speakers below. His tone is deep and sonorous, even delightful.

You squeeze the cloth and pause before regaining your composure. This cannot be a coincidence. The camera and now he’s following you. Or so it seems. Does he distrust you? What reason have you given him?

You are mindful to wipe down the bronze statue of what you assume is a viking warrior. You place it back staunchly, making sure your work is entirely visible to him. You are honest and you like to think you do your work well. Or at least, you try to. Perhaps if he sees that effort, he won’t be so suspicious.

As you head for the door, he quits his humming. His chair squeaks again.

“You are rather more thorough than the last,” he muses.

You stop and turn your head. You nod. He’s baiting you to break his number one rule.

“And you take orders well,” he adds blithely, “that is rare these days.” He taps a key again, “as you were.”

You take the dismissal in stride and flit off to your next task. It isn’t much, maybe only a statement of fact, but it’s something. He isn’t unhappy with your work. So far, neither are you.

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 10)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: Thankfully, things have been resolved between you and Konig. You start to settle in more with your team, and Roze shares a few thoughts with you over a smoke. The memories are still there, but just like the winter around you, they're cold and unwelcoming. You and Konig open up to each other a bit more, more than you had ever opened up to anyone.

WARNINGS: implications of masturbation, cursing, angst (if you squint?), plot building, graphic depictions of animal torture and death (PLEASE CONSIDER ALL WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME thank you kindly)

Notes: Yes! Hello! I exist!! I've been in a slump, and I really do apologize for that. Many of you have been very patient with me and I love and appreciate you all for it! I had to intake as much CoD literature as I could in the past few weeks to get me motivated, which helped a LOT (not to mention I discovered no fewer than ten works that currently have a hold on my heart). But it's here! I forced myself to write over half of the following chapter so that it would be less daunting to finish up. I also plan to make a wip post for yall, just to share will everyone what goes on in my rat brain.

This was edited at 3 am (god it's 4 am now, i just saw that), so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors you have my full consent to call me out on it! Please enjoy!

(sidenote, I completely didn't research how old you need to be to become a navy SEAL, so reader's age is a bit inaccurate in regards to that. pls ignore lol)

(last sidenote then you can read, does anyone have tips for customizing the layout of their fics? I see so many cool ways to style the font and cute banners and errything but I have no idea how nor what to do)

- - - -

The sky hung low with a blanket of gray. It looked like it was about to snow, although the threat was soon dismissed when noon came around and there wasn’t a single flake. The air was cold and dry, forcing me to zip my jacket up all the way and tuck my nose into the collar. I blew steady, warm breaths into my jacket and tried to soak up the heat into my bones.

It was as if the incident had never happened.

Konig and I ended up driving to the liquor store, which was a blessing, since I had run out of Yeungling (and I didn’t understand enough Turkish to converse with the clerk, nor did I have any of the appropriate money – Konig was graced with both of those necessities). We talked like there had never been a week and a half of silence between us. He talked about how he had nearly forced Ridgeback to drag me out of my room and into the common area, “… but it would have been too early for that.” He commented. That, and I would have rather died.

So life went on as normal: dreary, aside from shooting people and getting shot at. Nonetheless, it was normal, and there was a peace to be found in that.

I leaned against the building to the training room, with Roze to my left. I had intended to come out and soak up whatever natural light I could – when I saw her standing there, possibly trying to do the same, I felt the instinct to play it off as if I was just leaving the building. But she cocked her head in a greeting, and a part of me took an interest in her worry-free aura. Out of everyone, she always seemed to be the least-stressed person in the room, even in the middle of a warzone. It was the balm to my anxious mind that I never knew I needed, but gratefully stood by.

We remained together in a comfortable silence (one I would most definitely would not have been comfortable with a while ago), staring ahead, watching the indecisiveness of the brooding clouds above. I wondered what the rest of the world was doing – if they might have been as calm and carefree as us, or if they were in some kind of peril, and the horrors of it were blocked out by the clouds.

I was drawn back to the present when I heard the click click click of Roze’s lighter. I turned my head and watched as she shielded the weak flame from the wind, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from her lips.

“You smoke?” I asked.

“Sure do.” She replied nonchalantly. “Want one?” she extended her pack of cigarettes towards me.

I glanced at the box, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.

I lay on my stomach, my muscles still twitching and shaking as I tried to even out my breaths. Ghost had tossed a thin blanket over my lower half. I hadn’t even moved from the position he had ruthlessly fucked me in – my body ached too much to even try, and my mind was still recovering from the past hour.

I watch Ghost as he reclined next to me, pushing the bottom of his mask up to place a cigarette between his lips. It was the first time I had seen any part of his face all day. He grabbed his lighter from the pocket of his pants that were discarded on the floor, lighting the end of the cigarette and inhaling. He tossed the lighter back down to the floor as he tilted his head back, exhaling a long stream of smoke. I watched it swirl in the lamplight, settling in a cloud around us. He continued puffing, staring at the wall across from the bed as I lay beside him, although I felt worlds away from him.

He'd started off the night with a mountain of stress from a mission gone sideways. Instead of the usual slow build, where he would run his hands under my shirt and kiss my lips slowly and tenderly – he had walked in and immediately demanded I remove my clothes while he began stripping out of his. I had assumed tonight was going to be a passionate one, until he threw me onto my stomach and shoved my face into the pillows. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rough with me, but it wasn’t just rough – it felt dehumanizing. An hour of constant, merciless thrusts, and a hand around my neck that restricted both my blood flow and my oxygen, and I had fallen into a state of shock.

But, in the end, I was happy to be caged in by him again.

I was happy.

He turned his eyes towards me, seeming to sense that something was off. He exhaled another puff of smoke. “Everythin’ alright?” he asked, completely void of any genuine concern.

I met his eyes with my own. I felt like I shouldn’t have to answer the question, and it stirred up a bitterness in me. But I didn’t feel like arguing with him, and I certainly didn’t want him to leave – so I nodded my head, slowly blinking my eyes. “Just tired.”

He hummed and faced the wall again. He brought one of his knees up and rested his arm against it. “Want a smoke?” he asked, still looking away.

I shook my head as much as the pillow beneath me would allow. “No.” I replied.

He sighed disappointedly. Apparently, my lack of enthusiasm after being used like an old fucktoy was irking him.

To be fair, I never spoke up about how I felt.

He grunted and rose from his position, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray by my bed, and picking up his clothes and pulling them on. My heart ached slightly as I watched him slide his shirt over his torso. I felt the threat of tears sting in my eyes as I wished his hands were holding me instead, keeping me warm and grounded. He pulled his jeans on and fastened them, buckling his belt rather quickly; and all while he faced away from me.

“Well, I know you probably need some alone time.” He muttered, sliding the skull attachment over his mask. “So I’ll get going. I’ll see you around.”

He grabbed his tactical vest and jacket and slung them over his shoulder. He paused by the door. “Thanks for tonight.” He mumbled, before finally leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him.

My eyes lingered on the ashtray with the half-smoked cigarette. A thin trail of smoke plumed into the air – I wanted to throw the tray across the room and shatter it. But it was Ghost’s, so I couldn’t; I couldn’t regardless, because it was a piece of him that remained with me, even when he left.

That, and the smell of smoke.

“Nah, I’m good.” I replied, facing the cold, empty base ahead of me.

“Good.” She said, pinching the cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke. “Stay that way. Did you know these bastards give you cancer?”

I chuckled into the collar of my jacket. “Do they, now?”

She hummed affirmatively, sucking another breath in through the cancerous bastard. “Who would’ve thought…”

We fell back into silence. I continued watching the stillness of the base, trying to see if the sky would follow through with its promise to fall. Now that my free time wasn’t spent holed up in my room, it somehow felt like there were fewer ways to spend it. With another mission on the horizon – a simple recon, yet dauntingly close to a heavily-guarded compound – no one was out and about when they usually were. Finding Roze outside and seemingly not worried was usual, however, and a warm sight, compared to how the rest of the team was on edge. Even Askel seemed grumpier than most days.

I hadn’t been seeking out someone to spend time with, no… that I would never do (or admit). But talking to a familiar face provided a comfort I had grown to need over the past couple of months. And, frankly, I felt like Konig might be getting tired of how much I ran to him when I craved social interaction. Though he had never said anything about it, I felt like I needed to branch out to other team members than just my Colonel. One might think I was trying to kiss his ass (I knew the accusation had already crossed Juno’s mind, but the young soldier was good at holding his tongue – when Konig was around, at least).

“You ever think about how ‘little girl’ you would react to this?” Roze asked, and I turned to face her. She had her nose scrunched, and a tinge of pink dusted over her cold cheeks. “Guns, war, no playdates or days at the beach…”

I sighed. “Probably would have cried.” I replied, allowing my freezing nose to poke over the collar of my jacket. “Especially if I had known that being a princess now adays meant spending more time worrying about becoming a hostage than anything else.”

Roze chuckled. “It’s a good thing we didn’t know then.” Her face was mostly blank, but I thought I noticed a hint of bitterness in the way her gaze landed on the ground. I watched her flick her cigarette with a bit more aggression than usual. “I would’ve tried to convince my entire family to run away to Scotland, live in hiding and pretend the rest of the world was a dream.”

“Scotland?” I asked. Soap’s cocky grin and heavy Scottish accent stirred in my mind, but it felt like nothing more than a small cloud of dust.

“Yeah – heard it’s fucking gorgeous over there.” She waved her cigarette in no particular direction. “Now, I don’t know how peaceful it is in terms of politics and war, but it’s pretty spacious. Simple, too. I feel like if I talked about throwing all my shit away and becoming a fisherman for a living, I wouldn’t get people trying to talk me out of it like I would in the States.” She took another drag, and laughed out the smoke.

“Fisherman?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled, a hardened smile gracing her lips. “I don’t know why it sounds so appealing… it just does.”

I hummed and looked back out at the compound. I wondered about Roze’s past; she had never said or done anything to indicate that it was particularly rough, as it was for the majority of us (us – I still wasn’t used to including myself, but it was becoming more of a habit each time), but the weariness in her eyes when she spoke about her younger self made me question what that girl had been through. Maybe it was just nostalgia. A yen for simpler times. Roze seemed to appreciate the simple things in life.

“You know Askel goes ice fishing?” she said suddenly.

I smiled underneath my jacket. “Seems like something he would do.”

“Every winter.” She continued. She dropped her cigarette to the floor and crushed it into the gravel. “He takes about three weeks of leave, if we’re lucky enough to get it, and goes to Norway. Sits on a frozen lake for hours a day, just waiting for a fish.”

“You make it sound like he’s never caught one.” I point out, my eyes lingering on the cigarette.

She shrugged her shoulders. “So does he. Every time I ask him what he caught, he just laughs. Says he’s never expects to get a bite.”

I closed my eyes and hummed in response. It was easy to picture the scene – Askel, sitting on a thick layer of ice, nursing the hoppy beers that he and Konig loved so much and waiting for a fish to bite. I wondered if he even bothered to reel the line in when he did catch something. Or if he even went fishing at all. Maybe he just went out there to get a sense of peace, to pretend that war and death didn’t exist.

The motion of thick, heavy snowflakes falling from the sky caught my attention. They landed on the skin of my nose, resisting the warmth for a few moments, before they eventually melted into trickles of water. A sudden gust of wind blew a flurry of them towards us, making the both of us flinch.

Maybe fishing doesn’t sound too bad.

- - - -

The shooting range was mostly silent, save for the occasional conversation between me and Konig. The lights were low, easily illuminating the gunpowder and dust swirling in the air. Konig and I stared at the paper target as we analyzed my shots. A few hit dead center, although most of them were clustered around the lower left of the bullseye. My lips were pursed into a scowl as I glared at my sub-par aim – it wasn’t typically so awful, but of course it was while Konig had been watching.

“Eh, are you sure you didn’t lie on your paperwork about being a sniper?” Konig asked as he stood behind my left shoulder, taking the target from my hands and looking at it closely. “You weren’t even ten yards from it. This is very poor marksmanship.”

I scowled in embarrassment, taking my pistol to the counter and pulling out the mag. “Rough day.” I answered bluntly as I started packing more bullets into the small compartment. It wasn’t a lie – I had barely gotten any sleep the night before. I was in the middle of a rather interesting dream involving me and Ghost, until my alarm woke me up before anything of importance happened.

“Very bad…” he mumbled to himself. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

“Y’know…” I grumbled, loading the mag back into the gun and shoving it in my holster, “I don’t like stereotyping, but the boot really does fit you.” I walked past him and out into the hallway, not waiting for him to follow.

“Hmm?” he made an indignant noise, momentarily stuck in his spot, before he came jogging after me. “What does that mean? What stereotype?”

I chuckled. “Haven’t you ever how Germans are extremely blunt?” I asked.

“Austrian.” He retorted. “Do I need to brand that onto my face for you?”

“Wouldn’t do me much good, with the mask ‘n all.” I replied.

He laughed – rather snorted, as usual – “Ah, you’re right. Maybe I am blunt – just as much as you are defensive.”

I stopped at the end of the hall, right in front of the exit. “Defe-“ I turned on my heel to scowl at him. “I am not defensive! Where did you get that idea?!”

He stopped behind me, his eyes widening. He gestured an open palm in my direction. “This.”

I huffed, turning back around to punch the door open. The snow from earlier that day had ceased, blanketing the base in a thin layer of white. The moon seemed that much brighter against the crystalized ground, and the yellow lights scattered across the compound made parts of the snow look like sandy dunes. My nose tingled from the nip of the chilly air, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body as the door fell shut behind me and Konig.

“Well, what am I supposed to say when you call me defensive?”

“You could agree.”

“But I don’t.”

“Which proves my point.”

I huffed in frustration, despite the smirk curling on the edges of my lips. “So, either I have to agree with you, whether I really do or don’t, or you’ve corralled me into a paradox.”

I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “A what?”

“A paradox, like a – y’know, never mind. It’s too difficult to explain.” I let him fall in step next to me, although he was the one who needed to slow down to match my pace. “We can just agree to disagree, how’s that?”

“Agreed.” He nodded, and I chuckled. “It won’t change the fact that I’m right, you know.” He added.

I bit my lip and tried to keep my smile from growing ridiculously larger. I looked up at him and patted his shoulder – he looked down at me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back. A stray, reddish-brown curl poked through the side of his balaclava, and I found the miniscule detail warming my heart through the cold air. He felt real, and in this moment, too human for this kind of life.

“Why did you choose the military?” I asked, turning back to look at the ground as we walked.

He hummed. “Isn’t that every boy’s dream?”

“Well, yes – but most of the time, it never becomes more than that.” I responded.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, mimicking my own position. “I’m not really sure what made me push so much for it. I almost didn’t make it, for obvious reasons.”

I chuckled. “Size does matter, huh?”

He looked down at me with a deadpan gaze, one that I refused to meet. “It almost did, in a bad way. And I almost backed out before they could be the ones to turn me away. But, of course, they knew they would find some use for my size – so they took me in.”

“And what did they do with you?” I asked, looking back at him.

“A ‘human battering ram,’ as my superiors had so nicely called it.” He framed the description with his hands in the air, as if it had been written on a plaque. I laughed and looked back down at my feet.

“Seriously?” I asked. “So they just had you breaking down doors, and then what?”

Konig laughed with me. “Well, I still had a gun, so I was able to shoot, thank goodness. And I had a bit more gear so I wouldn’t break my bones against the doors – I still dislocated my shoulder a few times, however…” he rolled his left shoulder, as if there was still a lingering pain from how often he had thrown himself at doors. “It was actually during a period of recovery when I proved that I could still be a sniper. My shoulder was still healing, so I had to give up being a battering ram for a while. I was sat with Horangi on the side of the mountain to give him cover. Of course, he was ambushed – he had to fight the Arschgiege right when we were given the order to shoot, so I had to take position behind the gun.” I noticed that his chest was puffed out a bit from pride. “That really knocked their pants off.”

I chuckled, choosing to ignore the inaccuracy of his phrase. “Did it now?”

“It did.” He replied, then looked at the ground. “For a moment. I got a good earful for overstepping boundaries that day, but it’s what ultimately landed me here – so I’m grateful for it.”

I nodded and hummed. “What was Horangi picked for?”

Konig shrugged, his hands now back in his pockets. “He never said what he and Commander had spoken about in his office. But, even if he wasn’t chosen – I like to think we come as a package. If I go, he goes, if he doesn’t, I don’t.”

I felt my heart warm at his words. The memory of how Juno had described Konig couldn’t be farther from my mind. It almost felt like I was talking to someone I briefly crossed paths with in my youth – not a war criminal, not the bloody and stiff soldier who had stepped onto the heli after our first mission. I envied his ability to separate his work stress from the time he had in between missions.

“Why did you decide to join?” He asked, catching me off guard.

It was only fair that I opened up to him, since he was so willing to do the same. Always the one to go first, too. But I had to be careful. I didn’t want this to turn into a pity party, and I didn’t want to dig anything up that I had worked so hard to bury deep beneath my subconscious.

“I was… a weird kid. Like you.” I said, making Konig scoff and roll his eyes. “Looking back now, I hate my younger self. I was so sensitive to what people thought about me, and I just wanted to be independent and strong. I wanted to be a ‘different girl.’” I gritted out the words that left a sour taste in my mouth. “I think I just wanted attention at first – of course, when I heard how everyone said they hated how annoying teenage girls were, and how gullible and weak they were, it just – it made me change. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, it wasn’t just about being different anymore. So, as soon as I turned old enough, I enlisted. Didn’t get to Navy SEAL right away, of course… but I joined every program I was allowed in until I could submit my application.”

I sighed, then chuckled. “Thought my family would say they were proud, that I was successful, that I was doing a good job… they were just angry. Said I was throwing my life away for business that didn’t involve our country.” I opened my mouth to say more, but I ended up scoffing and closing it once again. I felt like I had shared enough.

I looked at Konig, expecting him to acknowledge what I said. “That’s how the story goes…” he would say. But, when I met his gaze, I only saw concern. His brow was creased with what I imagined was pity, and my stomach churned. It was the exact opposite of the reaction I had hoped for. I only wanted to share stories with him, and now it was… this.

“I think you made the right choices.” He said, and I looked away.

“You don’t need to make me feel better, Konig. I appreciate it, but-“

“I’m not just trying to make you feel better.” He said, his accent slightly thicker from his exasperation. “You’re good at what you do. Your parents are just probably worried for you, and they don’t know how to show it.”

I bit down on my tongue, my eyes settling on the building in front of us with a hard expression. If only.

“Maybe that’s it.” I muttered, hoping he would drop the subject. He seemed to understand, and turned to look ahead with a disappointed sigh. My heart sank the tiniest bit at the sound, and I internally scolded myself. Still a people-pleaser, apparently.

We continued walking in silence, the buzz of the lights above us mimicking the static of a communication system that had been severed in a time where it was needed most. The edge of the barracks appeared into our view, just around the corner of the arsenal sheds that stood between us and our destination. I continued to stare at the ground, pretending to watch my steps and try to not slip on the snowy asphalt. My heart twisted with each second of silence that sat thickly between us. It wasn’t technically a fight, but somehow, it felt worse. It felt like the first time I had pissed him off, the first time we had spoken to each other – and god, did I already hate myself for the way I had acted towards him during those first few weeks. I didn’t want to drive another wedge between us, not after the ones that had already been worked back out.

I exhaled heavily through my nose. “Sorry.” I mumbled quietly, but loud enough that I knew it reached his ears. “Sensitive topics.”

He flitted his eyes in my direction, but didn’t bother to move his head. He sighed, and I nearly jolted when I felt his wide hand on my upper back. It rubbed back and forth, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was comforting me. Or, trying to, at least.

“I know.” He said, and his hand rested on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was stuck on the feeling of the roughness of his palm, which I could gleam through the fabric of my jacket. How his fingers squeezed gently and released twice. There was no hidden meaning, no forced contact or any kind of attempt to put context into the touch. It was… natural. Warm, comforting, and it spoke a thousand words that I wouldn’t have been able to stomach if he had said them. It broke past my self-hatred and walls of ‘don’t be weak’ that I would have used as my defense if he had tried to verbally convey any sort of consolation. It was the first time I didn’t feel awkward about being so close to him, let alone when he was touching me. I wondered if he did this on purpose, or if he had no idea what he was doing at all.

I let myself stand nearer to him, almost tucked under his arm. I looked up and smiled as genuinely as I could – not that it was hard for me, but because I wanted to make sure that he really knew how much I appreciated the gesture. Although, if he knew that this simple act of comfort would pierce through my outer shell, was it really necessary?

“Thank you, Konig.” I said.

He looked down at me and smiled. That damn smile. I wondered how much more refreshing it would be when he wasn’t wearing his mask. It was already too much for my soul to bear when it was just the crinkling in his eyes that I could see.

“Anytime, Bonnie.” He replied, patting my shoulder before tucking his hand back into his pocket. I grieved minimally at the loss of the touch, but I was happy for what it was. “And I mean it. Anytime you need to talk – or not talk, and do that empty staring that you do – just come find me.”

I quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Anytime?” I asked amusedly.

“Mhm!” Konig replied, his eyes on the ground as he watched his steps. Then, the realization hit him, and his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh- well, eh- I guess, not anytime-“

“You gonna tell me when?” I joked, and he laughed. “You need an open/closed sign on your door.” I jogged ahead, trying to reach the door to the barracks before he did.

“How about this?” he called out, and I could hear the grin behind his mask. “I’ll nail a chalkboard to my door, and if I’m busy, I’ll draw a stick guy jerking off in his bed!”

My cheeks burned after I heard him. “No!” I shrieked, laughing nervously. “You’ll traumatize Juno!” I quickly tried to pin this on someone other than me.

“Juno, hah?” Konig teased, and I had half a mind to run into the building and leave him on the quad. “I don’t care about him. Kid needs to be traumatized.”

I laughed and threw my head back, turning the corner around the arsenal shed. “That’s not very-“

Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat, and I gasped. Konig nearly ran into my back as he skidded to a halt.

Sick, sick, what the fuck, I feel sick-

“Stimmt etwas nicht?” he asked, concerned. “What- oh, scheisse-“

We both stared at the bird on the ground. A crow from the looks of it, though it was hard to even decipher that it was a bird in the first place, due to the state it was in. Its belly had been cut open, entrails and bloody bits pulled from the abdomen and strewn to either side of the bird. Its wings were stretched to their full capacity and most likely beyond it, crushed and missing a large number of feathers. Both of the legs appeared to have been ripped off and tossed to the left of the crow. Its beak was the worst of it all: pried open, the jaw probably broken from how wide it was spread. A haunting look of terror in the crow’s red, glossy eyes made a violent shiver run up my spine.

I exhaled shakily, my eyes still glued to the horror. “Holy shit – what the-“

Konig quickly walked around me and knelt in front of the crow. I shifted to look over his shoulder, still fearfully curious, but he held a hand out behind him, urging me to stay in place. With his other hand, he pulled at one of the bird’s wings, stiff and heavy. Whether it was frozen from the cold, or this was the effects from rigor mortis, I couldn’t tell.

“How – did a fucking fox do that?!” I asked. Are there even foxes in this area? How the hell did one get on base?

“Nein.” Konig replied, still looking at the corpse. His gaze fell upon it with a sense of… familiarity, maybe? “Not a fox, no.”

“Then what? It – whatever it was didn’t even eat-“

“I’ll take care of this.” Was all Konig said. He stood up and marched past me – I was barely able to catch a glimpse of his furious expression. His eyes were hard and narrow, and as he walked away, I noticed that his shoulders were tense and his hands were balled into fists. I didn’t dare say anything to him; he almost looked the same way he did after our first mission together, except this time, his anger seemed to be directed at something, instead of just a post-mission adrenaline high.

“I’ll see you later.” He said over his shoulder. There was an obvious fury to his words, and although I knew it wasn’t intended towards me, it still made me freeze where I stood – almost as if I might anger him more simply by taking a step after him.

Whatever it is… I thought, watching him disappear into the compound, he’s sorting it out. I can take care of myself. Although, with such an abrupt and tense departure, I was at a loss on what to do next. I looked back at the bird; its terrified eyes locked onto the sky above it, frozen in its last wish to fly away from whatever horror it endured.

A shiver ran up my spine, prompting me to look away.

- - - -

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix @v3lv3tvampir3 @theoneandonlykymberlee @luvvnightingalee @dillybuggg @sun-joo @perfectus-in-morte @evilive @satakingslime @comfortless

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[marvelous-slut]

idk how i keep writing about our boy happy, like i have so many WIPs and two of them are chibs & juice, literally almost done and my brain said “but how about we write one for happy AND finish it all in one day.” like ?? idk guys he has a choke hold over me and i’m not even complaining i love his ass 🫶🏻 anyways here’s to my happy fans i hope y’all enjoy some smut. this also gets no title bc my brain ain’t working enough for that right now, so sorry xx

SMUT! 18+ ONLY my friends, if you’re younger than 18 please exit left! lots of smut, didn’t proof read

“we’re gonna head to the porn studio boys, gotta talk some business with Luann.” jax says, hoping on his bike. tig stands with happy as he throws his hands up.

“come on man, we’re standing right here and you’re just gonna rub that in our faces.?” jax smirks and straps his helmet on.

“never said you guys couldn’t tag along, i know how much the two of you like pussy.” tig needs to hear no more as he walks over to his bike and hops on. happy decides to join them as he does in-fact love pussy and he definitely loves porn.

_________

immediately when entering Luann’s porn studio, tig is gone. he’s looking around the studio, he’s looking at the half naked women strutting around, he finally stops when he sees a girl on girl scene being filmed. not even a fire could take his eyes off this action. happy follows, looking around himself. he sees spots Luann speaking with a familiar face.

“holy shit.” he mutters out, he recognizes your face and body from anywhere. he’d never admit he had a favorite porn star, he did enjoy most of what he watched, but you in fact got him off quicker and made him harder than any other woman he’d watched on screen. he swears he’s seen every film you’ve had, girl on girl, straight, threesomes, but his favorites were your solos. he notices the tight royal blue dress hugging your body and he feels himself growing harder. once he sees you break away from Luann he decides to take his chances. he watches you wrap a bottle of water around his your lips, he comes over and grabs a bottle as well.

“hey.” he says, feeling like he can hardly speak, you turn around and smile at him.

“hey.” you say back to him, noticing the leather that matches your new business partners SAMCRO. he stares at you for a moment, unsure of what else to say, you decide to break the silence. “cat got your tongue?” you ask him, he puts a head on the back of his head.

“uh. no. you just look familiar.” he says, happy doesn’t usually feel nervous around anyone especially women but he felt like he was meeting a big time celebrity which he guessed that was somewhat accurate.

“which movies your favorite baby?” you ask, running a hand down his leather. he smirks, looking you up and down.

“i prefer the solos.” you smile at him, usually the answer you got from men was girl on girl. you grab his hand, leading him to the back room where you and your girls got ready. thankfully most of them were sniffing around the SAMCRO members, giving them a good time. once the two of you were in the room, you kiss him on the lips roughly.

he runs a hand up to your ass and grasps it, before you know it you feel your back against the wall. you pull away from the kiss to help him take off his kutte, as he’s doing this he also sheds the shirt he wore under. you notice all the tattoos and his muscular body, feeling your body heat up. you’d slept with plenty of men and women, you would think being on camera would take some embarrassment away from off camera sex, but not with this man. at this moment you realize you didn’t even get his name.

you pull him by the waist band of his jeans and drop to the floor to your knees, undoing his belt and letting his jeans fall to the ground. once his boxers come off, your eyes grow and a loud “wow” leaves your lips. he smirks at hearing this, he would never not feel proud hearing about how big his dick was but he was ecstatic to hear it come from his favorite porn stars lips. he feels himself twitch as you wrap your lips around him. he’s met with a hand wrapping around him as well, even tho you were some what of an expert at the matter, you weren’t about to embarrass yourself a choke on this man. he notices your hair getting in the way and decides to hold it up for you, his fist wrapping tightly around it. you pull him out of your mouth, running your tongue from the base to his head. he moans out at this action, he pulls your hair as a signal to come up to him.

before you know it, you’re laying out on the couch. happy lifts your dress up, revealing that you have no panties on underneath.

“shit girl. no panties?” he asks, you pull the top of your dress down, revealing your breast. you feel your nipples become hard from the cold air.

“makes it easier for moments like these.” he grins, pulling you to the edge of the couch, he slides himself into you without warning. you let out a moan, you were already soaking wet. usually it took a little lube for the shoots, but this man did something that no one else had done in a long time. he’s thrusting slowly, but steady.

“god damn.” he mutters out, running his hand to your breast. “pussy is even better in person than then on camera. you know how many times i’ve fantasied about this?” he hears you let out the oh so familiar moans that before he’d only heard in porn. you lift your head up and grin.

“is it all you ever dreamed of?” you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to your face, kissing him sloppily and wiping away his sweat with your hand. he can feel the tops of your nails sticking into his neck. “shit. even better than that.” he says, thrusting himself into you harder than before. your moans mimicked what he has heard many times before, but it seemed more enjoyable this time around, much more authentic.

you wiggle yourself out of the corner of the couch and manage to get him to lay on his back, happy was taken back. he was used to doggy style or being in control in missionary, he couldn’t even remember the last time a woman rode him. you ease down onto his cock, “fuck.” he let’s out, he can’t believe what’s happening, it still doesn’t feel real. he feels like a teenage boy again fucking someone for the first time. you grind yourself on him, taking his hands and placing them on your hips to help guide you.

“how many times have you thought of this baby?” you ask, he digs his nails into the side of your hips, making you gasp in pleasure.

“you don’t even know.” you feel pressure building inside of you, ready to explode. “you sure do know how to work a man’s fucking cock.” the words send you over the edge, happy feels you clenching around him.

“oh my god!” you scream out, he watches your face, although he remembers plenty of the orgasms you’d had in your movies, he’d never seen one like this before. you continue riding him, finishing off your orgasm. you feel him go to push you off so he can cum himself, but you hold him down with your hands still grinding onto him.

“oh now, don’t think you didn’t do all that work to not get to cum inside of me.” you say, moving your hands to his face.

“fuck!” he let’s out, he releases into you and enjoys every second of it. no second thoughts. once the both of you have finished, you hop off him and grab the closest towel that had your initials printed onto it, specially made for you of course as you were one of Luann’s biggest earners. you throw one to happy as well, he stands up, cleaning himself off. you throw on a bright pink robe, throw your hair up into a bun and walk over to him.

“you know, i never did catch your name.”

“happy.” he says, you chuckle for a second until you realize he’s being serious.

“cute, i like it. we should do this again happy.” you say, grabbing your water and taking off to the restroom. he finished cleaning himself off and gives himself a pat on the back, realizing now he can have the real deal instead of his screen.

[starrbright]

𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭| Matsukawa Issei

As the title says, this is just me writing Issei in a different light from what I've always thought of him. But a study as well of what I do think of him, can be an outside part of my series I've yet to write about him. And lastly, another venting of mine, I think I projected too much on this, really. I had a light situation that happened and bothered me so much earlier that i had to stopped writing my wip for kishibe (it'll come out this may or before, i promise this time), so.....byeeeee, i teared up at writing this. @iwaberry, @seijhoeist 😁

499 words. LMAOKSKSJSKXKSK. fluff. angst. light smut. all my y/n are afab, fat and of color. La Belle Dame Sans Merci by Marc Fishman

Issei is Issei. Full of wit he effortlessly drives to a cunning state. Persuasive. Simply a snake that slither to anyone for whatever in his gain, the sin that rises from beneath one they didn't even know was there in the beginning, the beautiful murmur that echoes, the one wouldn't dare tempt themselves to be trapped. He's never been a deceiver despite his games, truth always easy to show behind his facade as he intends—he's him.

But, unfortunately—it doesn't work on you. In some very specific cases you most need it, that is.

As his cunningly self is engraved in him, so is a part of yours that keeps you grounded, humbled, mostly too anxious, just straight up so resentful of making a mere mistake that couldn't even count as one in the eyes of many but it is for you. The want to be perfect. Your pride that embarrasses you, one that shames to think it's more about your image than kindness, that strangles you for praise.

It's all unyielding even for a man like him.

He's already found it that part of you is as said; indeed indelible. An endless cycle of episodes.

You're his lover. The most delicate for him. Despite that he tried to ease that away from you, he didn't—never deceived your mind. Then came a simple solution to him after barely thinking about it.

The most normal or rather easy to do that can anyone think of. What he has always done for you to have nothing in your brain.

What he's plainly been doing from the start; loving you.

"My baby." Issei sighs heavily against your mouth that merely kisses him back, as you're already overwhelmed with the scarce time he's began fucking you, keeping his slow thrusts in your cunt above you with his one hand tightly gripped on the headboard of his bed and the other wrapped around your wide and soft back close up against him. Keeping his steady and antagonizing pace amidst the words he praise for you, " I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. My baby. My baby. I love you. My love. My baby. " —relishing your tears, it's liquid gold to him out of what he gives you. "Prettiest thing." Says him as your tears are kissed by his lips.

You're lost in him. Always willingly bending to him until mindlessly as you want it. Moans weakly drowned by your gentle cries, before you can utter anything, he takes your lips again, tears in your mouths. "Y'know, you don't need to say a thing." He mutters between his kisses, still going with the same pace of his pleasure for you both. It's always easy to use his sharp tongue as it is for making you hear how beautiful you are truly.

" Just be good for me, doll. "

" Always good for me. "

" Lovely girl, mine. "

" You're so good to me. "

Loving you is he most loves besides being himself.

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

"Illusion" (Final Part)

A/N: This is short :/ but it's a cute ending and I like it so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Trying to speed run through my WIP's. Anywho here is the final part of Illusion!! Also sorry it took long, I'e been going through some stuff 😚

I do also want to mention that this isnt my best work. Because im finishing what past me started it was hard to make sure this came out good so...dont read to much into my shitty writing!

Summary: After Osferth saw you working at your night job you start avoiding him, embarassed about what he saw. He manages to get you alone and you both have a heart to heart.

TW: Virginity Loss, Smut, P in V, Alochol, Osferth being bold, Tiddy Suckkin

←  Previous Part

Mortified.

That was the only way to express how you felt. You were utterly mortified.

Just when your life was getting better and things were looking up. It's almost as if the universe couldn't let you have a moment of peace.

Your brain ran wild as you drove back home. He would never see you the same again after this. There was no way he'd still want to go on that date. And you couldn't possibly go to his birthday party and face him.

You are quick to run up to your stairs when you finally arrive home. Not noticing the small boy in the living room who stayed up waiting for you to get home.

You didn't have work. You traded your shift the same day he asked you to go with him to his party. Your brothers had plans with friends from school and your mom was working all day.

You spent the first half of the day cleaning your room and the rest of the house. Not cause you had to but because what else was there to do.

For once in your life you had the house to yourself. And the only thing you wanted to do was sit on your couch with a fat tub of ice cream and maybe a hot pocket...or two.

So that's what you did.

Sweatpants, sweatshirts, and slippers. Ice cream, chips and your hot pockets were all you needed as you snuggled on the couch.

You binge-watched your favourite show you've seen way too many times, trying your best to push everything out of your head. You managed to get halfway through the first second season before someone rang the doorbell.

Crawling over the back of the couch miserably and walking over to the door while still keeping your eyes on the TV you open the door.

When you finally tear your eyes away from the screen to look in front of you Osferth is standing there.

Without thinking you slam the door shut in the face. You stand there staring at the now-closed door when the doorbell rings again.

Taking a deep breath and wiping your face with the sleeve of your sweater you open the door again.

Osferth turned back around as he heard the door open. He walks back towards the door.

"Osferth liste-"

His hand is quickly holding on to the side of your face as his other pulls you flush against him. He dips down to kiss you silencing any objections.

You had always thought him to be too timid to do something like this. Too kind and gentle to kiss in such an intense way. When he finally pulls you away he doesn't let you go, continuing to hold you close.

"I shouldn't have approached you the way I did...I wasn't angry, disappointed or even disgusted..."

His fingers gently brush your cheek. His eyes take in all of your face as he's able to see you up close for the first time.

"I was jealous, I think, all those men looking at you I guess just got to me. Maybe I was also confused but that's all. I didn't mean to scare you off." Both his hands move to rest on your waist.

"I was just scared. Worried you would be. I should have heard you out instead of running. I was embarrassed."

Osferth listened to you as he rubbed circles on your waist comfortingly.

"And you had just invited me to your birthday, I was so scared tha-" You cut yourself off as something crossed your mind. "Wait- your birthday! What are you doing here? Your party started like an hour ago."

"I left...I couldn't celebrate without you there. I had hoped you would still come. When you didn't I asked around to find out where you lived."

"You have to go back! Everyone is there for you!" You tried to remove his hands to usher him back to his car but he held on to you tightly.

"I barely know half the people there. Plus, im not going back without you. I don't care if you strip I'm sure there's a reason you do it. And I won't ask if it's not something you want to talk about."

You contemplate telling him. It's not as if you didn't trust him but rather it was a pride thing. Most people wouldn't want to tell people about their family's financial struggles. Then again, if he was willing to overlook the fact that you danced half-naked for money to other men he deserved to at least know why.

"My dad had a gambling addiction. When he died his debts were passed off to us." Osferths hand held on to your lower back rubbing slowly in a soothing manner. "Loan Sharks came by a week after his funeral demanding their money. We paid them all we had in the bank but we still owe more. That's why I dropped out. That's why I strip."

"How much do you owe?"

"...not much left. I'll be done by the end of summer." Osferth nods. "Are you sure you're okay with the fact I strip? I know most guys-"

"Im not most guys. I get your situation. I just wish you had told me."

You smile softly. There is a moment of silence in between you two before Osferth leans back down for another kiss. This one is slightly different it's hungry and more aggressive. His hands slide down from your back to your butt giving it a playful squeeze.

Osferth walks you backwards into your house and uses his foot to close the door. As the kiss continues you soon notice a taste on your tongue, tequila.

You giggle against his lips, Osferths brow raises as he pulls away.

"What's so funny?"

"Did you drink before coming here?" His face flushes the tinniest bit as a smile creeps on his face.

"I took a shot in my car...liquid courage." It definitely gave him plenty of it. "I want you...so badly." He kisses the side of your face making his way down your neck, you tilt to the side giving him more access. "All of you."

You had never had someone say that to you. That they wanted you. Somewhere along the way you came to terms with the act that you could possibly never hear those words. But here they were, coming from the lips of the boy you least expected to say them.

"W-we shouldn't-" You pull your head back. You didn't know much about Osferth but you did know his family's religious standing.

"Yes-" He kisses you again before leaning down more so he can lift you up. "We should."

"Thought you were the wait until marriage type." Osferth smiles as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you over to the couch sitting down with you straddling him.

"I can always repent." His hands roam up under a sweatshirt. "How about we take this off." You help him lift the shirt over your head. He takes a second admiring how good you look in your bra before reaching behind you to undo the clasps.

Once undone he flings your bra off to the side. He marvels over how perfect your tits fit in his hands. Gently rolling your nipples between his fingers before taking one in his mouth.

He sucks eagerly before releasing your nipple with a lewd pop and giving the other the same attention.

You could feel him getting harder below you, his cock straining in his jeans. You grind down on him as he gently grazes one of your nipples with his teeth watching your face for reactions.

You help him take his shirt off before leaning down to kiss him. Osferth was beautiful, despite the somewhat nerdy and shy look to him his body looked like it belonged to another man.

"Are you sure?" You understand like anyone giving your virginity is a big step. He nods and meets you the rest of the way pulling you against him into a soft kiss. He holds the back of your neck keeping you close as he continues rolling your nipple between his fingers.

He pulls away only to help you take off your sweatpants and to shimmy out of his jeans. You can only now see just how hard he is, the tip already leaking.

You reach in between you want to touch him but he gently grabs your wrists.

"I've wanted this for long I can't wait any longer." You lift your hips as he lines himself up. His face is fixed on yours as he lowers you unto his length watching every facial reaction, studying you.

Osferth's fingers grip your hips as you fully sit down. his breath coming in short pants as he leans his head against your chest.

"D-dont move yet. I want this to last." It takes him a moment before he starts to guide your hips to move slowly. You enjoy watching the pleasure plastered on his face.

You let Osferth take control as he pulls you against his chest planting his feet on the floor to gain leverage. You're taken off guard as he picks up pace not giving you a moment to breathe.

Motivated by your moans Osferth keeps going wanting to make you feel good, wanting this to be good for you.

"Osferth~" You rest your head on his shoulder his moans filling your ears. Those are the only sounds besides the crude sounds of his balls hitting your ass with every thrust.

His arms wrap around you holding as close to him as possible wanting to feel all of you inside and out.

"Does it feel good love?" his voice is sultry and only makes you clench around him. You nod back and can feel him smirk against your neck. "It must. I can feel you dripping down my thigh."

He stopped as he moved you both around laying you on your back, one leg over his shoulder and the other wrapped around the back of your thigh.

His eyes marvelled as he watched himself slowly slide in and out of you glistening with your arousal.

Seeing your body covered in a thin layer of sweat your eyes glazed over had his cock twitching within.

"I don't think ill be able to hold back much longer." He began moving once more picking back up in pace. The new angle had him hitting a spot within you that you had not known was there.

Osferth let go of one of your legs and has his hands found a way to your clit rubbing it gently. He could feel you tightening around him, your body writhing beneath him.

He watched as your orgasm washed over you. Your back arching off the couch, the way your eyes roll back slightly and you moan his name.

In his eyes, you looked like a goddess.

The view brings Osferth his own release he pulls out his cum painting your stomach.

You both sit for a moment minds racing to comprehend what just happened between you two.

"..how about we go shower then head to the party?" He stands up offering his hand, and you take it getting up off the couch.

Despite the doubt that crawls in your mind about if he's truly ok with your profession, you can't question one thing. He makes you feel loved and safe, a feeling you have not felt in a while.

And that there was no longer a need for an illusion.

A/N: AGAIN IM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK IF ANYONE STILL CARES. AND SORRY FOR THE SHITTY WRITING.

[eaglet-if]

Орлёнок Demo Release

Finally, the demo is here! It's not exactly January anymore, but better late than never, right?

You can play it right here!

I also made a post on the CoG forums, if you want to check it out: Link

Features include:

Meeting your family! And getting bullied.

Getting executed!

Rising from the dead!

Celebrating life by slaughtering some rebels!

(Being extremely miserable!)

Feedback:

This is, quite obviously, a work in progress. It is made available so that you, the reader, can give feedback that improves the game.

So, while you can - and should - obviously tell me whatever you want, a specific list of what I need most in terms of feedback can be found here:

Language. English is not my first language (actually, not even my second one), and I mostly read non-fiction academic works when I read in English, so my writing is certainly not at the level it should be. If you have any concrete issues, please tell me, and I'll try to learn how it can be improved.

Spelling. I don't expect much in the way of outright errors, but I do know that I mix up British and American English all the time. The intended style is American English, so please point out spellings that are wrong in that regard.

Inconsistencies. There are a lot of variations between scenes, and I'd like to make the story as immersive as possible; so, if a phrasing, a character's behaviour etc. feel like they don't fit into the choices you previously made, please tell me. In detail, if possible, otherwise I won't be able to amend it.

Sensory descriptions. AuDHD makes my brain process sensations, including visual impressions, very differently, which means I often end up forgetting those exist. Please tell me about scenes that lack description in that regard. (My first grade elementary school report card called my writing 'efficient and devoid of feelings', and I'd very much like to move past that.)

Technical problems. The code should be pretty solid, but with how complicated it is, it'd be weird if there weren't at least some problems. If you find them, please try to include as much detail as possible when telling me about it. (CS Quicktest and Randomtest are not usable due to the complexity of the code, lol.)

You liking the story. I remain thoroughly convinced that I am a worthless person who isn't able to, nor deserves to create anything, and currently my only motivation to continue this project is derived from pure stubbornness. So, if you, for some reason, actually like this demo, please tell me. It won't change my mind about how bad I think it is, but it will force me to continue in order to avoid being even more of a disappointment.

Additions. If I like your idea, I'll probably add it right away; if I'm unsure, I'll do a poll. You can get me to do almost anything if you say you're sad if I don't do it.

Formatting. Although I try to playtest as much as possible, it's not that easy with how many variations there are, and in VS Code it's sometimes hard to see how well or badly readable text passages actually are.

CWs/TWs (v0.0.1):

Graphic violence and gore

Attempted sexual assault (against the player, avoidable, f!MC only; also against an NPC if massacre route is chosen (is dealt with quickly))

Suicide attempt (by the player, avoidable; f!MC only)

Loss of loved ones

Massacre of civilians and/or PoWs (avoidable)

General misery

(please let me know if you think this needs additions)

As of yet unfinished content:

Autistic variations do not exist yet for the latter part of the demo

Only one of three locations for taking a walk available for now

Tooltips are incomplete

Asexual is not available yet, as it requires a lot of additional scene variation text

Special (psychopath) routes are missing from some scenes as they were added late in development

Choices that are locked and marked as (WIP) are unfinished

Interaction routes for Semyon/Selena, Mikhail/Marina and Leon/Leah. They are top priority for the first set of updates

It is recommended that you play this with a stable state of mind. If you choose the suffering paths because it's relatable and/or as a coping strategy, please make sure you have support available and avoid triggering yourself too much.

The whole point of this game (apart from the dress-up part) is that, no matter how bad things get, you shouldn't stop fighting. It's your enemies who deserve destruction, not you.

Please keep in mind that I am both literally insane and pretty reasonable, so: if there is anything you find grossly offensive, don't assume I meant anything bad by it. Just explain to me why you think it shouldn't exist, and if I am convinced, I will amend it.

[honestlydarkprincess]

WIP Wednesday!

tagged by so many lovelies! @daffi-990, @bidisasterbuckdiaz, @fortheloveofbuddie, @hoodie-buck, @devirnis, @wikiangela, @exhuastedpigeon, @neverevan

sooooo i just started a new wip 🙊 sorry to everyone who wants me to work on an existing wip, this trailer just really took my brain by storm so have the beginning of a buddie+tommy threesome<3

If you had told Buck that one night he would be sandwiched between his best friend and their new-ish sort-of coworker, he wouldn’t have believed you. But there he was, Tommy’s heat pressing in on his left while Eddie’s pressed against him from the right. They had been flirting all night— something about Tommy being there making it easier for Buck to let himself go and let himself flirt with Eddie. Tommy’s dark eyes flicking between the two of them, interest blazing and a smirk playing on his lips. He knew. Tommy knew that Buck was in love with Eddie and he was too scared to make a move on his own. Buck hadn’t even had to tell him, he’d just been able to see it because Buck was so obvious.

Well, obvious to everyone who wasn’t Eddie.

But now, with Eddie’s warmth bleeding through his jeans and soaking into his skin, he thought maybe he had a chance. If nothing else, maybe the three of them could have some fun and Buck could pretend that it didn’t make his heart splinter not to have Eddie the way he wanted him.

tagging: @bigfootsmom, @maygrantgf, @watchyourbuck, @princessfbi, @goforkinard, @sunshinediaz, @spagheddiediaz, @buckstommy, @buck-tommy, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @transbuck, @loserdiaz, @monsterrae1, @father-salmon, @underwater-ninja-13, @usersiren, @djdangerlove, and @theotherbuckley

[eremji]

WIP Wednesday

Messing around with some fun little writing exercise snippets for the #TF Mecha AU. This was definitely just an excuse to try writing something action-heavy, since so many of my other current WIPs are so scenic and talky.

The Escaflowne -> Gundam -> Evangelion -> Pac Rim -> Transformers pipeline has really done it for me over the last few decades and I cannot stop writing Big Machines.

Human!Mechanic Ratchet tickles something in my brain. I love putting men in their 40s with back pain in Situations and Predicaments. My working take is he's still working for an organization he hates, but he's too old for this shit, he resents his job, and is perfectly set up to have an eventual midlife crisis over wanting to date his Bugatti a robot an alien.

///

“How close?” Ratchet calls down at the pilot scaling the massive bot closest to his workstation. He doesn’t know her name, but her bot is Strika, one of the first manufactured models they bought from the Slovenian engineering program. The woman isn’t Strika’s original pilot.

“Half mile, incoming,” she shouts back, hauling herself upwards hand over hand with no harness, corded muscles flexing. “Two minutes.”

Direct contact. He can't just hide in his office and wait for this one to blow over. Fuck. Ratchet kicks his kit closed and crams the prototype knee assembly into an empty storage locker, hoping no one goes digging during the attack. He yanks on the buckles of his climbing harness, running through the safety check at record pace, then seizes one of the rapid descent hooks and flings himself into a three story drop with nothing but a hand brake and blind faith in his equipment.

Ratchet’s teeth rattle painfully as his feet hit the concrete, even though he takes the impact exactly like he's practiced a hundred times – the emergency abseil drills always have padded mats at the bottom and his brain isn’t ready for the reality of hitting hard concrete. He doesn’t go down on his ass, but a spasm of agony jolts up through his hips and spine and he has to stop to catch his breath, queasy.

The massive loading bay doors are already open by the time he recovers, twenty critical seconds of prep lost while the piloted bots are being disgorged into the sheeting rain. He unhooks from the line and snatches one of the combat kits off the storage rack. Three other mechanics are shouldering their repair rigs, already belted into their body armor.

Ratchet hauls on the plate carrier and buckles it with the strong feeling he's going to fucking die. He crams his helmet over his sweaty hair anyways, leaving the visor up. It's too dark and wet outside and the cheap polycarb fogs up no matter how many times they treat it. The repair pack goes on last, weighing him down, heavy coils of electrical patch cabling slung over his shoulder.

He’s out in the rain before he’s ready. His radio picks up a burst of feedback. There’s an unmistakable thunderclap report of a defense missile striking its target, followed by an ear-splitting roar that drowns out all other sound. The Quintesson is either way closer or way larger than he expects and he nearly climbs out of his skin with fear.

Ratchet turns just in time to catch the massive shape backlit against the storm-black sky, ten stories of nightmare. The Quintesson’s energy barrier flashes in a dozen places, incoming weapons fire flickering like red lightning over the glassy surface. It's covered in rain-wet armor plates and undulating tentacles, the massive shark-like mouth already filled with a twisted, sparking heap of metal. Spotlights blink out as the Quintesson takes out one of the substations, plunging everything into darkness.

[critterbitter]

Asks and responses under cut!

First to note! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR THESE ASKS. I REALLY APPRECIATE YALL. That aside, lemme get cracking! @drakeling7413 AWE MAN THANK YOU! I just started playing B2 with a friend (we're... not doing a nuzlocke anymore because we both got full team wiped at Clay's gym. That exadrill's built different man.) But I'm glad to bring back some of that whimsey! @bluemimikyu As an eel defender I am VERY glad to hear that! Good luck with tynamo though, they evolve at a disgustingly high level and they're... well, I don't want to say weak but they're a bit difficult to use against anybody not water or flying, from personal experience. (I love eelektross though. Levitate my beloved...) @ashnesspokemon ADLSKJFLKSDJ THANK YOU!!! I have SO many thoughts about them. We've seen them as rat children. We've seen them as sad old men. Today, I offer you-- gangly teenagers interning at Gear Station and Scheming in the meantime. (Plus elesa! The more I draw her the more I love her, ah... I've always been a sucker for trios. ((looks dead eyed at botw and hollow knight))). I do intend to draw them older later on, but that's a timeline I will Not Nail Down anytime soon hehe. @64s-art-blog Emmet has eel rights, Ingo has lamp rights. (But you're right. He should have thrown eelekrik. The comedic apparel would have been incredible.) @aroacepokefan First of all (points at your user name) AYYY. (Points at this characterization of Ingo). AYYY??? Second of all, thank you I LOVE moles and drillbur's perfect. @asperanna Oh boY OH BOY OKAY SO. I am prrrrobably not gonna draw anymore conventional starters AU cause I have a lot of wips I have to handle of the current comics, BUT Ingo would have a unovan samurott. and then when he gets heebie jeebied into hisui, he would have a HISUIAN Samurrott. And then when the two samurotts meet, they would be like the spiderman pointing meme. But because this is also a sandbox, if you ever wanna run with the hisuian samurott idea please go for it! Free real estate, just remember to credit so I can sneak in and spectate the art. @submasfan SLJLDSFJSLDK TY!!!! I am definitely gonna have to slow down at somepoint so I can work on commissions again (ah... maybe I should open a patreon... to feed myself. hmm.) BUT I APPRECIATE THE EXCITEMENT. The submas brain is real. @magicfeatherbean4 (sweats) This is where I tell you they only appear for like... five lines. BUT YOU SHOULD PLAY BW! I miss the 2d pokemon aesthetic, and BW nails that in the head. ((Its okay we can sit on the sidelines and admire the muppet men do their daily commute within the depths of the train.)) @rudeboimonster I'm so glad you caught the stims! Character consistency is an important rule I hold close to my heart, so seeing people notice the little details I add makes me grin like a loon.

[nananya-x]

WIP

Jayce closed his eyes as soon as his head found its way onto his partner's lap. He felt a tentative hand resting on his head, stroking it barely perceptibly. “What would you say if I told you that it was you who almost destroyed the world?” “That you must have hit your head somewhere.” “And even though you wouldn't let me at first, I couldn't let you make that sacrifice alone to save the world in the end.” “Pretty hard, I might add.” Jayce laughed at the remark, lifting his head from Viktor's lap and looking into his eyes, which regarded him as if he were out of his mind. Maybe he was. “I've woken up, but I think we've landed... in another dimension? At least that's how I'd like us to end up.” Viktor rolled his eyes and flicked Jayce against the forehead. “Next time, I won't let you work late into the night with me. It's obviously not good for you.” This statement was probably meant to sound scolding, but something gentle resonated in Viktor's voice. Jayce could hardly contain himself, as they had rarely been able to have moments like this in recent weeks. Which was largely down to Viktor himself. Jayce stood up without breaking eye contact. “Jayce, let me get off the table and get back to work. There's a lot to do and I-” He couldn't listen to these words any longer. If he had to wait any longer, he would go crazy. So he pushed himself between Viktor's legs without saying a word, which fortunately surprised him so much that his torrent of words was interrupted before he had even started. His hands went to his narrow waist and how many times had he imagined touching him there before? To hold him tight and press him against him? Jayce loved that feeling already. “Jayce” But Viktor couldn't say much more than his name this time. “Even if tonight was just a dream and almost none of it was real - one thing was real.” He leaned his forehead against Viktor's, closed his eyes and pulled him a little closer with his hands on his waist. “You've got me wrapped around your little finger and you know it. As if there would ever be anything I could refuse you.But today I want to be selfish, V.” His heart beat fast in his chest and when he opened his eyes again, not wanting to miss a moment of this, he recognized the light blush on the other man's cheeks. Jayce could look at him forever. “I am so crazy for you, Viktor.”

I am currently working on something. My heart needs them to be happy... So yeah, I am writing someting and this is just a small part of it. I can't get enough of these two so my brain is constantly working on more.. <3fanfic

[ninadove]

top 5 miraculous ships?

This one is also surprisingly hard, because Miraculous is the shipping show by excellence, and they’re all pretty compelling! That being said —

1. Feligami

Hopefully there’s no doubt about it by now. They single-handedly kicked me out of a months-long writer’s block, and ever since I’ve written paragraph over paragraph about them... with no intention to stop! 💜❤️

2. Lukadrien

With how much I talk about the Sentikids, you’d almost forget Luka was my favourite character back in season 3! Every time I write him, he and Adrien go heart-eyes over each other. It’s almost against my will at this point.

There’s so many interesting things to explore about them, from the angstiest to the sweetest. Luka feeling left out in Wishmaker only to bask in love in Migration. Adrien opening up about his Aspik trauma to someone who can understand. Luka being, to this day, the only person who figured out Chat’s identity. Two very pretty boys who are unlucky in love and terrible at getting what they want... Has anyone ever written Luka x Cat Walker? Lukatwalker? I think someone should write Lukatwalker. Don’t look at me, I have too many WIPs already!

3. Lukadrinette & Adrino

See, that’s where rankings get complicated, because where the Hell do I put Lukadrinette hmm? Hmmmmm? I love the three of them together more than I love Adrinette and Lukanette individually, but less than Lukadrien on its own. It’s a question of balance, I think.

And at the same time, Adrino. There’s just something so comforting about them. The warmth of it all! The dorky flirting in Rocketear! Nino being willing and ready to throw hands with Gabriel since the early episodes of season 1! I love Lukadrien, I love Lukadrinette, but there are universes in which my brain won’t accept any endgame other than Adrino. The Reverse is one of them — all it took was that one conversation between Adrien and Claw and BOOM!!!!! Clawdrino!!! They’re kissing as we speak. I follow the brainworms where they take me.

“But Nina!” I hear you ask, “why not get the best of both words by writing Lukadrino?” to which I reply that you are so right. I’m very curious to see where that might lead us. Unfortunately I am, as previously established, battling an army of WIPs, so the exploration will have to wait.

4. Ladynoir

For the Strikeback of it all. And the London special of it all, too! Marichat was my favourite side of the Love Square for a very long time, but recently I’ve had a craving for…

5. Adribugnoire. Or whatever it’s called.

I’m a hurt/comfort enthusiast, so this surprises absolutely no one. It’s perfect to explore Mari’s crushing responsibilities and her relationships to the people in the know (Kagami Felix Kagami Felix Nathalie Kagami Felix Plagg Bunnyx Kagami FELIX FELIX FELIX). It’s perfect to explore the Sentilore, which you know is my brand. It’s perfect because if I’m going to put a character through the angst machine, you better believe it’s going to be Adrien. It’s perfect because have you seen Bug Noire??? She’s so pretty!!! The London special spoiled me so much!!!

Special mentions:

Julerose and Marcaniel are very cute, of course. DJWiFi I think works best as a QPR, but I might be biased because Kittybella!!! I love Kittybella. Zoenette is also cute. I love Alyanette and especially Loveyalya, the pining is simply excellent. Speaking of the Loveybug AU, Loveyblanc… All these dynamics are so fun to play with, but I rarely get around to it because the Sentikids take up so much of my writing time. As they should! 💚💜❤️

And then there’s the box of ships I don’t want to be canon/endgame, but which I think bring something extremely interesting to the story. Feligami would not be as compelling as it is if it weren’t for Adrigaminette. The plot would not exist at all without Gabeminath. Cholila has so much narrative potential. I’m not rooting for them, but I enjoy what they bring to the table!

Thanks for the ask! 💜❤️

[hotpinkmurex]

Thank you for the tag @mothboypoison. This was indeed fun.

✨️Fanfic Writer Interview✨️

How many works do you have an ao3?

Seven. But most are longfics.

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Words are not the only things that matter

What's Truth But What We Say It Is - Pretty Woman Wesper

A Summer of (Not Quite) Love

A Little More Light Role Play - Real Life Wesper Fairytale

Still Small Hours - A Wesper Love Story

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. I love talking fanfic. It feeds my soul.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

This will have to be relative as I am only interested in writing happy endings, but "A Summer of (Not Quite) Love" has the least clear-cut resolution.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Pretty Woman.

Do you write crossovers?

Nope.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. And proudly. 71% of the time! And it is explicit, M/M smut since my current blorbos are men.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. Eeew. Writing is for me an "alone-time" activity. That is the primary basis of its appeal.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck from Six of Crows/Shadow and Bone

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I currently have two unfinished WIPs, but it was a moment of personal growth abandoning the first one, and I have no plans to finish it. It felt like homework. And this is supposed to be fun.

My current WIP, which in my mind, was going to be finished by the summer (LOL), is currently only halfway done. But I will finish it. However, life is taking over, and that happy end seems far, far away...

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and characters.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Titles (see above).

Writing as an omniscient narrator.

Time-transitions.

Fantastical elements.

Action scenes.

Anything light.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I would do it if it added to the story, e.g., the character (like the reader) doesn't understand what is being said so it adds to the feeling of being lost. However, when I read it in classic books (looking at you Jane Eyre!) it just bothers me. I guess the expectation is the reader would be cultured and educated and would understand it, but I am neither of these things so it just frustrates me. However, Six of Crows features many constructed languages so I do have fun adding in elements of that to my stories.

What is a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Not a lie, not a joke, but my brain is currently (against my will), developing a complex, queer-acceptance storyline, based on a pair of squirrels in my kid's bedtime book. So I guess... Spontaneous Cyril/Plan-Ahead Bruce

What's your favourite fic you have written?

Until recently I would have said Pretty Woman, but I re-read a chapter yesterday (for reasons) and WOW. It is super cringe. So I will provisionally say my current WIP, because though it may not be brilliant, only the prologue makes me sweaty with shame. But I have to follow through and finish it first.

Tagging @stormkpr @dreamtigress @avalonia320 if interested 😊

[happiness-of-the-pursuit]

words wednesday (ignore that it's thursday)

Hello everyone! Thank you for the many tags. I got a migraine yesterday afternoon that only got worse as the day went on (and the brain is still a little soupy), so I missed the posting window. However, my brain also cooked up two new WIPs this week in addition to the two I was already working on, which is insane (I have never actively juggled this many pieces before). I'm excited to share and talk about these, so I am ignoring the date and still sharing.

Serious moment: this snippet is from my new wip featuring Seahorse Dad Henry (wherein trans masc Henry gets pregnant after a one night stand with Alex, fall out ensues). It's actually an incredibly important fic to me (somewhat fueled by spite), because on Twitter I saw a RWRB account make a wish list for men being able to get pregnant — as a dude who can get pregnant myself, it was pretty disheartening to see this trans erasure in a fandom which is supposed to celebrate queerness.

In general there's been a lot of recent mpreg talk without including trans guys in the discussion at all, so even though mpreg's not usually my thing, I've decided to add to the discourse by writing my representation into the narrative blah blah blah.

Enough talking. Here's the rough draft snippet:

Henry’s also honest enough with himself to admit that at least half of his good mood can be traced to the three free drinks bought for him by three different men, the bum squeeze he received a couple songs ago, the hard cock rubbing against his arse right now. He knows it’s a bit vain to revel in other mens’ appreciation of his physical form, but he spent so long feeling uncomfortable in his own skin, listening to people when they said no one would ever be attracted to him, that he can’t help but languish in the feeling of being desired.

Tags and thanks below the cut :)

Thanks to @14carrotghoul @magicandarchery @anincompletelist @firenati0n @heybuddy-drabbles @getmehighonmagic @gay-flyboys @matherines @inexplicablymine @zwiazdziarka @suseagull04 @kiwiana-writes @nocoastposts for WIP Wednesday/first line of 2024 tags! I'm late as mentioned above, so please consider this a tag for six/seven/several sentence sunday :)