#if anyone has tips for getting over writer's block

[lenakluthor]

turns out i'm apparently only capable of writing 300ish words at a time before i feel like giving up, so i guess the first chapter of Spooky Supercorp AU will be done in like, three weeks

[starriisarchives]

FILL ME UP ❤︎

ᝰ.ᐟ rodrick heffley x fem!reader | duration: 1.1k

description: rodrick sees a perfect time to start the process of baby making.

content: nsfw 18+ ﾉ breeding kink ﾉ dom!rodrick ﾉ sub!reader ﾉ lil praise kink ﾉ dirty talk ﾉ aftercare mentioned ﾉ rodrick’s is in his twenties.

notes: ahhh, i know i did a slight rodrick smut headcanons before but this is my first full fic smut for him and i'm excited. i hope y’all enjoy this.

kinktober mlist 𐙚 masterlist 𐙚 previous fic 𐙚 taglist

“How was that?”

You ask, looking at Rodrick who has a smile on his face, you just got done singing a new song you wrote for the band. You were pretty nervous about it too, it was one that gave you writer’s block since you wanted to be perfect.

“You always sound good,” Rodrick comments, laying back on the couch manspreading; gripping onto the drumsticks he held in his hand.

“I’m happy you liked it.” You question, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, you walk over to where he’s sitting, immediately taking your seat on his lap, taking his sticks out of his hand, placing it on the couch cushion, as his hands cups your waist, moving slowly towards your ass, squeezing it while he captures your soft lips with his after staring deeply into your eyes.

You knew what you two were doing was bad, intimacy between band mates was against the rules so no conflict were to ever happen if breakups were to concur but the magnetic pull that keeps bringing you two together since you met is so strong that you can’t just walk away from those feelings. Whenever he looks at you when he thinks you are not looking, it gets you all giddy inside, the butterflies that form in your stomach whenever you sing in front of him because his opinion always mattered the most out of everyone.

His hands grips the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head breaking the kiss for only a second, he unclamps your bra, discarding to the ground as you grind over his growing bulge that you can tell was aching to be released from the restraints of his jeans. 

Your hands travel down to his lower waist, unbuttoning his jeans, zipping down the zipper while you lift your body for a minute so he can take off both his jeans and his boxers, his hard cock springing up once it’s released. 

“Let me check the waters,” Rodrick says, bringing his hand under your skirt, feeling the wet spot on your panties, a smirk tugs on the corner of his lips as he pulls your panty to the side, lining up his tip to your entrance. “Look at my princess, all wet for me.” 

Your face heats up at his comment as you sink down slowly, biting down on your bottom lip as you enjoy every inch until you flush against his pelvis.

You hold on to his shoulders as you start to grind your hips slowly to get used to his length briefly before you start to bounce up and down on his cock. You squeeze your eyes shut from how good he feels inside of you. It was like your pussy was made only for him as it fits perfectly better than your ex ever did.

His hands grip your waist tightly as he guides your movements, the sounds of your moans mingling with each other filling the garage as if anyone was to walk by, they would hear what was going on and it excites you more.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, keeping eye contact with you as you continue bouncing, loving the squelching noises your pussy was making. You moans spill out your mouth as you’re loving every second of this. 

Rodrick arms wrap around your waist stopping all movement as he holds you while getting up, placing you on your stomach near the edge of the couch not disconnecting from your greedy cunt.

“If only you can see how pretty you are as you take all of me,” He comments, admiring the sight beneath him as he rolls his hips into you, soft moans escaping out of your slightly parted mouth as you grip the couch.

“Perfect, little pussy suckin’ me right in,” He groans as he keeps his pace looking into your pretty eyes. “Fuck— please…” you whimper.

“Please what? Use your words, tell me what you want, love,” Rodrick watches you try to form complete sentences as he thrust deeper inside of you, your moans filling his ears. He smirks once again, knowing he got you too fucked out to talk. 

Your boobs bouncing with each thrust, he looks at your sweat-slick belly, he reaches down to your breasts and his mouth trails down the valley of your breasts, biting and nibbling on the soft flesh, tongue swirling on the marks forming on your skin as his saliva leaves wet spots behind.

"So soft for me, (name), look at you" he huffs out, trailing downwards, reaching your stomach and something in his eyes change a shade darker, pounding into your cunt, the mewls in response from you drives him crazy, his mind going to places he shouldn't but the only thing that came to his mind was you full with his baby, your belly so round and soft. It would be one way to mark you as his, to stop all the guys from flirting with you after shows.

“Please… let me come,” you finally get out as you dig your nails into his back. 

“Go ahead, come all over my cock,” he groans as he uses his fingers to rub on your clit. Your cunt clenching around his dick, and your body starts to convulse, painting not only his cock but his lower waist as well with your release. 

“Good girl,” Rodrick praises in your ear as you try to catch your breath. “Gonna fill you up real good, would you like that, love?” He pounds harder and deeper as his cock twitches inside your cunt loving the sight of you nodding your head yes to his question, your gummy walls gripping him tighter. “You’d look so beautiful while carrying my child,” He places his hand on your stomach as he is picturing the sight. 

The mere images made his cock twitch inside you, your lewd noises of overstimulation just making it hard to back off from actually doing it, the pace he set is ruthless, pounding inside your sopping hole, slippery with your juices as he chases his end. 

Your lips parted, whined spewing out of your mouth as he fucks you, hitting the spongy spot repeatedly, nearing his own orgasm as he fills you up to the brim with his hot white spurts of seeds, his breath warm on your neck, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, perfectly fitting inside, hitting the spots in an angle never before, catching up with his depleted air levels as he looks down at your fucked out state, hands connected while your bodies connected as well with his cock still buried deep to the hilt inside your warm core, the images still plagued his mind. 

Rodrick slowly pulls out and as he does, he watches some of his cum ooze from your hole, he scoops it up and pushes it back into your pussy earning a whimper to escape your mouth. “I know baby, just needed to make sure none of it goes to waste, let’s clean you up,” he picks you up in bridal style, you snuggle in his chest while he carries you inside your home, leading you to the bathroom, happy of what’s to come in the future.

comments: @cherriespopsicle, @rain-likes-purple, @lover-of-books-and-tea.

© starriisarchives 2024. all rights reserved — do not copy, repost or translate.

[minniesmutt]

Heyy , hope u are doing great ❤❤

Would love a hard dom hyunjin × maid

with 4) "behave" .

Tyy 🤍

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HYUNJIN X READER ☾ ━━━ PROMPT: 4 “Behave" ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: PRINCE!HYUNJIN, MAID!READER, FORBIDDEN LOVE THEMES, MARRIAGE TALKS, FINERING, UNPROTECTED SEX, BREEDING KINK, CREAMPIE ☾ ━━━ WC: 0.6K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Y/n knew the trouble she would get into if anyone found out she was on speaking terms— let alone sneaking around— with the prince. The same prince who was about to take the throne in two days.

     “Hyunjin,” Y/n quietly moaned. He had found her in his art room. The room he only allowed her into. Everyone gossiped already based on that and Y/n knew if they found out about the relationship she had with the soon-to-be king, they’d have her head. 

     “Hm? Let me treat my future queen,” Hyunjin groaned. Originally, he had come into his art room for some peace and quiet. Needing to get away from everyone bothering him about his coronation ceremony. He needed to paint and be by himself. But finding Y/n cleaning up sparked a better idea to help him destress.

     One neck kiss had led to them laid on the couch and his fingers buried deep in her. Already having pulled one orgasm from her and now quickly working her to her second. “Two more days my love. Then you won’t have to clean a single thing in this castle again.”

     Y/n bit her bottom lip to keep her moans down. Back arching off the small couch as his fingers brushed the sweet spot inside her. Hyunjin just smiled at her reactions as he kissed her neck. Leading them up to her lips. Swallowing her moans as she came again on his fingers.

     Hyunjin pulled his fingers out of her and licked them clean. 

     “Hyun…” Y/n moaned, reaching for his pants

     “Behave my love. Use your words.”

     “Need you. Need you to fuck your frustrations out on me. Please, my love.”

     That seemed to be all it took for the prince. Hyunjin quickly flipped her onto her stomach and pulled his bottoms down. Pulling his hard on out, lining himself up at her entrance and pushing in. 

     “Fuck,” the prince groaned. Leaning over her and grabbing her hands, intertwining their fingers together as she took in his length, “Gonna fuck a kid into you one day.”

     “Do it now. Please,” Y/n begged

     Hyunjin smiled, “Anything for you my love.”

     The royal pulled back and set a quick pace. Thrusting into her as Y/n buried her face in the couch. His hips snapping into her ass as she gripped the sofa fabric and his fingers. 

     “Always so good for me,” Hyunjin groaned as one hand moved to grab her ass. Squeezing the flesh tightly 

     “More. Please sir.”

     “Been a long time since you called me that,” Hyunjin chuckled, “Do you need it harder or faster?”

     “Harder.”

     Hyunjin nodded and pushed in harder. Listening to her muffled screams and moans as he fucked he sensitive hole to her third orgasm. Her walls were pulsing when he pushed in and it was getting tighter with each thrust. He wasn’t to caught off guard when her orgasm washed over her. He’d figured out all her signs she was about to tip over the edge long ago. He gripped her ass tighter as he fucked her through the high. 

     “Such a good girl.” Hyunjin groaned as he used her to meet his impeding high. 

     “Hyun,” Y/n groaned below him

     “Little longer my love, almost there.” A few more thrust and Hyunjin was coming in her. Burying himself into her, cum coating her walls and filling her womb.

      Y/n felt his lips on the back of her neck as the both came out of their post-orgasm haze. “Marry me?” Hyunjin asked

      “You ask everytime we have sex,” Y/n giggled

      “And has your answer ever changed?”

      “No. I will marry you.”

     “Two more days then my love.”

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR     WANNA JOIN MY TAGLIST?

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☾ ━━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @puckmaidens @onlyhyunjin @minh0scat @auroratiseee @oddracha

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[one-piece-aus]

Whumptober Day 24

Paulie x Reader

"[Y/N]! THAT DRESS IS WAY TOO SHORT! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!"

"Calm down, Paulie." You roll your eyes and adjust your hold on your clipboard. "It's right at my knees, no big deal."

"Of course it's a big deal! This is a work zone and you're distracting the men here!" Paulie scolded with flustered red colouring his face.

Ah, such is the life of a lady working in Dock 1. You were part of the inventory keepers, noting when supplies arrived and where they'd go. Paulie the shipwright gambler, kept getting flustered over every little thing about your appearance when you two ran into each other during the same shift. At first, it bothered you, and if it weren't for Paulie seeming to be one of Iceburg's favourites, you would've tried drowning him. Then, someway, somehow, he grew on you.

"Oh pleasure, I won't be distracting anyone." You wave your pen around dismissively. "Besides I even got bending down covered, I'm wearing shorts underneath, see."

You tease him and lift the hem of your dress to show him your black shorts. Paulie's nose exploded blood out, steam flying from his face. Giggling, you drop your dress' hem back down.

"I think you broke him, [Y/n]," Kaku commented, walking up to you.

"He'll be fine. Whatcha need?" You turn to your other co-worker.

"New shipment came from the West Blue," Kaku informed you, leaning closer to add, "Devil Water Pose."

Devil Water Pose... Devil Wanted Poster...

Looks like another assignment has been added, which means your time at Water 7 is closing. Who knew Nico Robin would come here...

"Got it." You nod, keeping your smile. Kaku tips his hat and leaves to help other workers.

"What was that about?" Paulie asked, lighting up a cigar and raising a brow at you.

"Oh, Kaku just let me know about some supplies that just came in. I should go mark that." You spin away, finding it hard to face Paulie.

Paulie stares at your back, mildly puzzled. Something felt off, you don't leave in a hurry like that, especially in high heels. Maybe he's just overthinking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sigh, sitting at the bridge near Galley-La, clipboard in hand. Clicking the pen several times, trying to brush away writer's block, you stare at the paper underneath all the pages you stuff into the clip. If only you had more time to write this.

"What got you all bummed out?"

"Ah!" You flipped the papers down to hide the final page. Looking up, you see him. "Paulie, you scared me."

"Sorry," he apologized and leaned back against the railing of the bridge. "You gonna tell me what you were writing?"

"A love letter for you," you tease.

"Don't joke about that!"

You giggled, amused by his flustered state, until you looked back at the clipboard. Your mood goes back down. "I... I am writing a letter, I'm just not sure how to write it."

"Who's it for?" Paulie inquired, puffing out some smoke.

"...Someone I care about, I won't be able to see them for much longer."

"How come?"

"Work reasons," you answered, keeping it vague.

"Shame."

"Yup..." You stare at the water canal, biting back your tongue.

"Why don't you take the day off tomorrow to spend time with them?" Paulie asks.

"He'll be busy."

Paulie grumbles beside you. "What a chump, leaving soon and not bothering to spend time with you."

You giggle at the irony. "I don't blame him, Paulie. It's just how things are." You hear the man huff beside you before you continue. "Besides, he probably doesn't realize I care about him... I... I've been a little distant, you know."

"Shouldn't matter if you've been distant, it matters if he cares about you. Otherwise, you're just wasting your time." Paulie put out his cigar. You hum, acknowledging his words, even if your dilemma is different. A hand rests on your shoulder, you glance at Paulie. "If means anything, all of us at Galley-La care about you, [Y/n]."

"Thank you, Paulie." You wrap your arms around him, catching Paulie off guard. If things were different, maybe you would've given more than a hug. "Thank you for caring about me."

Paulie halts his emotions, sensing there's more to your story than you're telling him. He returns the hug, not understanding why it feels like you're saying goodbye.

And he won't know, until he reads your letter after you're gone.

Tags: @bookandyarndragon @roseoftrafalgar

[https-furina]

✎ that poor birdy. ft. xiao x gn!reader content. fluff, a little hurt/comfort, naive (?) reader - they don’t know xiao isn’t human :p a little bit of xiao falling in love while being really inexperienced with it. mentions of xiao as a birdy ! not proofread 'm sorry >~< w.c. 1.5k words

notes. uuuuuuuu i loves him so much ;; santa pls can i has him under my nonexistent tree this year taglist. @ryuryuryuyurboat @soleillunne @rainswept

you followed the routine meticulously whenever you needed it, which was usually always when the inspiration runs dry from your veins. it stumps you every time, being in that scenario as a member of the wanwen bookhouse in liyue harbor. you never particularly want xingqiu chasing after you on whether you have any new material to publish.

the idea was first proposed in its early stages by a close friend - at least, that’s what you call him. you had been grumbling over a cup of steaming hot tea, head in your hands as you whined to xiao about an upcoming deadline.

“why don’t you travel for inspiration?” he had suggested and within seconds, your face had lit up. you stared at him with glittering eyes, a hopeful glimpse into your future right before you. xiao shifted nervously under your gaze, his gloved hands cupping his own cup of tea as he glanced away, the tips of ears feeling warm.

suddenly you would start disappearing for days, sometimes even weeks as the birth of your new found routine began. it was the saviour of your writer’s block, filling you to the brim with stories and poetry that everyone at the wanwen bookhouse fawned over. xiao never pondered where you would run off to, in all fairness he assumed you was prancing off to mondstadt, sumeru and even inazuma.

he never chased you up on it. after all, his suggestion had merely been a case of him trying to get the oddly clingy human that appeared from nowhere off his back for more than a day. your presence suffocates him as a yaksha and he takes your absence in his stride yet he leans against the railing of his room at wangshu inn, staring out at the endless stars all clustered together on a backdrop of indigo and he sees how your eyes glittered that day, like you had captured the stars and put them in your eyes. almost like fireflies in a glass jar.

xiao did however presume you was at least obsessed - his words, you simply call it a normal friendship - with him enough to bring back trinkets from your adventures but you come back empty handed each time with only a proud grin on your face as you dump your newest works onto the male. part of him is glad that you don’t, after all gifting on such a level outside of special occasions could come off as mating to the male bird. the other part of him - the humanoid part of him - wishes you would do it at least once to fill the empty void in his heart left from centuries of avoiding contact with people.

the kitchen at the wangshu inn is usually busy around this time of day as workers gather for their lunch break or couples take a leisurely stroll across the guili plains whilst liyue’s weather remains so warm and tender, humid to the touch with a cool breeze. xiao knows this well from how long he’s resided at the very top of the inn, where the breeze catches just right and rustles golden leaves above his head. the noise brought by the mortal world’s lunchtime would soon cease and he’d be left in the solace he craves so desperately to ease his pains; that is disregarding the fact that xiao finds the kitchen too noisy on this day.

someone jogging up the steps is enough for xiao to hide, after all he’s not expecting visitors nor does anyone ever seek him out on purpose now but he catches sight of your familiar head of hair and the waft of almond tofu through the leaves, the plate held carefully in your hands. he tries to make his sudden appearance calm, as if he’d always been there - you’re too innocent to put together myth to reality, even with his mask tucked securely to his hip.

“you’re back again,” he comments, gold eyes watching you carefully as you spin on your heel to face him, your initial look of confusion ebbing away at the sight of him, “almond tofu?”

“i figured i’d come back with a gift, at least,” you chime with a grin, holding out the plate to him. seeing your smile after a few days affects xiao more than he’d care to admit, his stomach filled with the odd sensation of butterflies - and a gift? “i remember you saying you liked almond tofu.”

the pale skin of his cheeks seems to flush with a subtle hue of pink causing the yaksha to flicker his glance away from you as he takes the plate of almond tofu, mumbling his thanks. what was this feeling? his brows almost knit together in confusion; could it be karmic debt? perhaps your presence as a mortal human was finally taking its toll on him. xiao parts his lips to excuse himself from your vicinity, wondering if he could gather some believable lies to get you off his back but he stares at the small details on your face and how you still smell like parchment and ink instead.

xiao moves away from you - albeit a little reluctantly - to the table presented neatly with two chairs by the railing, hidden in the shade of wangshu inn's great auburn tree. he settles in one of the chairs, clearing his throat as he watches you lean against the aforementioned railing.

"so where did you go gallivanting off to this time?" he asks curiously, taking small bites of the almond tofu you'd presented to him. it comes to him that he's never once asked where you go when you disappear from him and apparently the question catches you off guard when he glimpses how your eyes seem to widen a little in surprise, processing his sudden interest in your adventures.

"oh! i was camping out at qingyun peak again!" you lean back against the railing, letting liyue's breeze tickle your skin like a warm breath fanning down your neck. xiao pauses mid-bite, golden eyes blinking in bewilderment as he gazes at you. was that all? he furrows his brows, after all he had truly expected you to be going abroad to new lands for your inspiration - he's even more caught off guard by how you said again… so it wasn't your first time?

"is that all?" he voices aloud, listening to the sound of your sweet laugh on the wind at his response. the strange feeling in his stomach turns again and he almost drops the almond tofu on his spoon, clearing his throat as he looks away from you quickly. these feelings were not painful for him, he begins to realise in turn. the heat of his ears and the way his neck and cheeks soon matched their temperatures, the shake of his gloved hands and how his stomach felt like it was flipping - these were not associated with pain nor karma, confusing the yaksha further.

"eeyup!" you pop the 'p,' grinning over at him before looking up at the roof of wangshu inn, noting the numerous bird nests filled with eggs before you remember something you wished to bring up to him, "but i heard a little birdy calling out during the night, it sounded so sad."

xiao hums in response, turning his focus back to the almond tofu he was finding the most delectable - if you had made it like he assumed, you truly was an amazing cook. he considers voicing that thought out loud before he realises you are mumbling about the small bird you'd heard and xiao begins to ponder what type of bird you must have heard. in the middle of night and at qingyun peak… the more he thinks about it, he soon chokes on the tofu he was chewing. he clears his throat to cover his embarrassment, hiding his face as he waves you off when you rush to his side.

you'd heard him. xiao's heart races, thumping against his ribcage at how he gets himself out of this situation. how would he even begin to explain that the bird is lamenting, calling for its dead friends that will never return? his eyelashes flutter shut for a moment.

"i'm sure the bird is fine." he tries to reassure once he has finished chewing the tofu. you give him a thankful smile at his reassurance, settling in the chair opposite him with a drastic sigh.

"i hope so… that poor birdy," you go quiet for a moment, gaze drifted off into the distance in thought and xiao takes the moment to recollect himself, leaning back in his chair as he admires you subtly. you really was starting to become a pain for him, "you'll have to join me next time so you can hear it! you seem to know a lot about birds, xiao - maybe we can go find it!"

xiao grimaces but he doesn't let it show, a crack of a smile on his face at the sentiment behind you caring so much for this bird; caring for him, without ever realising it. perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to let you a little closer, after all these pains weren't hurting him.

"i'll have to take you up on that offer." he muses, fixing his gloves as a wide beam brightens up your face. oh, what a grave he has dug for himself.

© https-furina 2023.

[vampiretendencies]

request; hi! i love your writing! if you could maybe do “tell me about your day.” with jj! maybe he’s your first boyfriend & you’re taken back by such a simple question/gesture since nobody has ever cared about you in that way before.

warnings; fluff

pairing; jj x fem!reader

authors note; writing blurbs rn bc of writers block (sorry to keep saying that btw i just repeat myself in case there’s a new reader, though i am currently starting to get over it) but still send in requests for one shots, imagines, etc. you may choose a blurb from the list below or send in your own idea.

other ways to say i love you prompt list

2 months.

So fresh, and so perpetually new.

Honeymoon phase striking JJ as something that would actually last this time. Not that he had many relationships to base it off of, but the past few he had typically went sour within the first few weeks.

None of them could get along with his way of life, or they just simply didnt appreciate the wholeness of everything that was JJ.

But he sensed it with you; he felt it in his bones, under his skin, on the tip of his tongue, every ounce of his being felt you, even if you weren't in the room.

This was his most serious, longest, emotionally involved, admiration filled relationship he'd been in.

This was your first relationship, but after being underwhelmed in his past endeavors he found this to be his first too.

And he's thinking about you first thing when he wakes up in the morning, last thing when he goes to sleep- unable to function properly if you weren't near.

JJ was your first everything; first kiss, first time holding hands, first time cuddling, first time being sexually involved with a boy.

But, Christ were your standards low about yourself.

Initially thinking a human with such with breathtakingly confined gestures didn't exist like JJ.

He proved you wrong, convincing you that everyone else in this world were heathens.

He taught you how to create such passion for another, how to know someone's heart and you did the same.

"How was your day, baby?"

It rolled of JJ's tongue, finitely. The two of you were entangled in the hammock at the Chateau, and you were cradled into JJ's arms. Attached to his side, whilst he studied your features; peering down at your scrunched up nose as if you were heaven sent. You thumbed over the material of his beer-stained Heyward's t-shirt, coming to a halt at that question. Almost like the hammock stopped swinging, the unearthly beaming sun stopped shining on the two of you, and as if you'd sunken into the mucky ground.

You were in awe, glaring up at JJ like he'd grown two heads.

Was he being serious? You thought.

"Something on my face? It's okay you can tell me-"

"No m'just ... you meant to ask me that?"

Stunned, was an understatement, as you are now propping your chin onto JJ's muscular chest, needing a better view. Almost uneased and taken aback as that wasn't an everyday question anyone asked you— lead alone a boy.

"Course' I did ..." and then he noticed your furrowed eyebrows. "C'mon, what's goin' on in that pretty little head?”

"Nothing J, you're the first guy to ask me that."

""Let's keep it that way, baby. I'll be the only one."

He's repeatedly pecking the skin of your forehead leaving you to say, “Since I've met you all of my days have been perfect."

[h4venpha]

↳ 𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐒:

chigiri hyouma, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, shidou ryusei

cw: !SUGGESTIVE!

the writers block is rlly hitting rn so yall get headcanons instead !!

CHIGIRI HYOMA

- i cannot help myself when it comes to chigiri being a tease…

- chigiri who comes up behind you and leans in close to your nape, causing you shiver at the intimacy. his hair draping over your shoulder as he presses forward.

- he nibbles at the shell of your ear, letting his teeth press gently against your skin. and you can feel his hot breath over your ear but you cant turn around or run away cause hes got a strong hold around your waist

- and hes pulling away with a breathy chuckle, watching your embarrassed reaction from just that

- chigiri who also likes to bite your tongue when you kiss him..

- you swipe at his bottom lip with your tongue and at the contact, hes surging forward to capture the tip of your tongue between his teeth.

- its not enough to make you bleed, but he bites hard enough to have you panting when you pull away. and hes wiping away at his mouth with the back of his hand letting out another chuckle before pulling you back in. except ths time he goes for you bottom lip

ITOSHI RIN

- rin has a possessive streak because i said so

- he wants to keep you far, far away from anyone who threatens to take you away from him

- borderline TOXIC because of how possessive he acts

- what better way to establish youre his and only his than leaving bite marks everywhere?

- hes practically on you like a rabid dog as he marks up your neck whether it be bites or hickies

- he wants everyone to see the deep bute marks and dark red bruises when he takes you out the next day. proudly and unashamedly possessive over you even in public

- bites over each side of your nape and hickies littering your collar bones, he loves tasting your skin on your tongue knowing that itll leave a mark

- and when they start fading, hes quick to give you fresh ones

ISAGI YOICHI

- isagi’s biting problem is definitely a guilty pleasure

- he first thought it was creepy the furst time he felt the urge to bite you. eyes raking over the soft skin on your body and he has this urge to have you in between his teeth

- (i headcanon isagi loving body worship/nsx🔥)

- hes kissing up and down your arms all the way to the tip of your fingers and hes holding back the urge to just bite

- its a private thing for him to do, he only does it when hes alone with you and hes feeling affectionate. call it possessiveness

- not even hard, just a little nibble. but he gets embarrassed, he thinks its strange and kind of creepy that he wants to bite the one he loves

- but when he asks with a deep blush on his face and you simply say its okay, youre not leaving til he gets his fill

- hes not a hard biter. he likes to nip at your skin just enough to make it sore when you touch it later. and he doesnt even think about that you might be sore later, he wants to bite and thats exactly what hes going to do

SHIDOU RYUSEI

- “youre so cute i could eat you up!” but in a very literal sense

- an action for affection from him, he thinks its sweet and he likes how you get grumpy because it hurt

- he likes to bite you literally anywhere. his favorites though is the soft place between the base of your neck and your shoulder

- coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist while resting his head down on your shoulder. and he just— bites you. teeth scraping lightly against the soft skin just to get a reaction out of you

- when you whip your head around and tell him to quit it, he only slyly smiles, seeing the embarrassment creeping up your face

- just like chigiri, he loves doing it just to see your reactions, how far can he go before youre chasing back for more?

- and 100% hes holding back. hes got a deep desire to just bite down and leave red teeth marks everywhere on your body.

- but he sticks to playful nibbles along your shoulder while his biting problem only brews more, waiting for the day you let him completely devour you

[this-lovely-universe]

The M Saga: This Story starts at 3am

M was slowly losing it.

It was never easy trying to work through your trauma, we all know this, but it was especially hard when you couldn’t even open up to people about.

She was so familar with the way her chest would tighten, and the feeling of her heart racing in her chest. It was never less frighten, no matter how often it happened. In reality, it made it more terrifying cause she was on her own.

Sure, she could get help to calm down but she couldn’t tell anyone what triggered her. Everytime she tried, my vocal cord was stop working.

She kept getting triggered again and again, without anyway of being able to stop it from happening. She couldn’t couldn’t work through it, she couldn’t tell anyone about it.

She felt hopeless.

These moments were what cause her mind to wander to the same dark places it did when she was stuck in that rancid place.

She wanted to get better, she really did, but how could she?

Unless some magically being came and rid her of this curse or whatever had cause this, she was stuck. And it was horrifying.

She was laid on the Hermes cabin floor, wrapped in her sleeping bag.

She couldn’t sleep. Not unusual at all. She had the world’s least ideal sleeping schedule.

Her mind was always too busy to sleep. Having a million thoughts at once, going over the day, planning for tomorrow, going to older memories, good and bad alike.

It wasn’t fun, in the slightest, but she had gotten used to it by now.

She stared into space, thinking about how exactly the universe never ended. Seriously? How can something not have an end? Is it like a circle? Would you just loop around or something?

She was rudely interrupted by her thoughts, with a bright light hovering above her head.

“Jesus…” She muttered, shielding her eyes from the blinding orb.

Groans filled the cabin.

“I thought you said lights out, Travis…”

“Bro, turn that shit off, I’m trying to sleep….”

“I just fell asleep, man…”

“Why isn’t going away…”

“Cause someone just got claimed, you dipshit-”

M shot up, the orb following her. Well, looks like it was time.

She glanced up, to see a full moon hovering above her head.

She felt like crying, maybe even throwing up.

The very thing that cause her the most physical pain in her daily life, the thing that completely uprooted her life and controlled her like a puppet, was her mother’s domain.

“You’ve got be kidding me.” She deadpanned.

“Oh, shit.”

“Selene?”

“Yeah, Artemis doesn’t exactly have kids.”

“Good point. That would be a true plot twist, now.”

“Why are you treating this like a fanfiction?”

“I mean-”

More kids continued to wake up.

“Turn it off…”

“I would if I could.” She snapped.

“Jeez, what’s your problem?”

She resisited the snippy comment on the tip of her tounge. “Sorry.”

The moon started to fade, the room becoming submerged in darkness once more.

“Finally…”

M just defeated sighed, laying down again. This felt like a cruel joke.

But it wasn’t. It was just her life, shitshow and all.

YOOOO WE HAVE ANOTHER ARCH STARTING

we're ignoring that's it's lowkey bad writing, I started it whilst in a writer's block

also I hope you like lesbian angst cause there's gonna be a lot here on out

@arisdaughter @childofthewargod @debacleofdaemons

@this-rose-has-thornes @ithacas-prince @daonedaonlysk @hispanic-child-of-hermes @i-was-never-sane

@gaygirldoodles @smileyalater @if-i-could-cry-i-wouldnt @hellincarnation @your-favorite-mess

If you want to be added, removed or if I forgot to tag you, let me know :)

[wannab-urs]

Trust

Prompt #634 "I trust you not just with my life, but with the lives of others."

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Summary: season 2 finale fight scene rewrite

Warnings: uhhh brief threat of death? That's it really. WC: 418

A/N: Due to my crazy ass writer's block, and thanks to the recommendation from @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, I'm gonna start doing these @creativepromptsforwriting challenges. You pick a number 1-1065 and write for 15 minutes based on the corresponding prompt.

Did I even use the prompt? No not really. Is this drabble creative, interesting, or innovative in any way? Also no. But it's words! Which I've been struggling with. It's unedited also.

Din Djarin Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi | Prompt Fills

Mando is one of the most trustworthy men you know. He would never let anyone down if he could help it. You trust him with your life, with Grogu’s life, with the lives of any stranger that needs help.

That’s why it’s incredibly concerning that he isn’t here now. It’s very unlike him to leave you to fend for yourself. 

Moff Gideon has you pinned in the corner of some godsforsaken cell, the kid cradled protectively in one arm while the other keeps a blaster trained steadily on the Moff’s head. The strange weapon he wields twirls from his fingertips as if it weighs nothing. He seems completely unphased by the weapon aimed at him. 

“Hand over the child and no one has to lose any limbs,” he taunts.

“No kriffing shot, Gideon.” 

He won’t swing on you with the child in your arms… you hope. Gideon presses in closer, forcing you further back into the cell. You fire off a shot at his head, hoping it doesn’t ricochet back into you or Grogu. 

Gideon blocks the shot easily with his energy blade, sending the blaster bolt into the ground by your feet. Too close. And Gideon knows it. Knows you won’t risk another shot. He closes the space between you and tries to yank Grogu from your arms, but you twist away from him. 

With your back exposed to him, he can easily run you through with his sword without harming the child. This is it. Where the fuck is Mando? 

You brace for death, but it doesn’t come. Instead, you hear the distinct sound of beskar clashing with that strange sword. You slouch onto the ground, Grogu pressed tightly to your chest, and watch your mandalorian battle the Moff. 

He’s beautiful with that spear in his hands. All swift, fluid motion. The sword hums and growls with every impact, but it doesn’t seem to be able to cut through the spear. 

Mando hooks the spear behind Gideon’s leg and yanks, dropping the man to flat on his back. He presses the tip of the weapon against the Moff’s throat, but doesn’t press in. 

“Drop the saber, Gideon.” 

Gideon retracts the blade back into the hilt, flips it around, and holds it out to Mando. 

“Take it. You defeated me in combat. It’s yours.”

Din stares down at him, seeming to falter a bit. 

“I don’t want it.” 

“It doesn’t matter. It’s yours. Bo Katan will not be the leader of her people after all… Mand’alor” 

“Kriff.” 

@creativepromptfills

[thepatronsaintoffilth]

You Smell Like Trouble - Chapter 7/?

🛑🚫✋🏾ADULT CONTENT, MUST BE 18+  ✋🏾🚫🛑

AO3 <- don't forget to leave me a comment

Tumblr:  Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 (TBD)

pairing: black AFAB cis reader x lycan!heisenberg

CW: voyeurism (sleep creep behavior but no somno - not yet), discussion of fertility/infertility/sterility, reader fantasizes about being bred against her will

AN: Wow. Been a minute, huh?

I didn't feel right heading into 2025 without giving y'all something. So I fired up Cold Turkey, blocked the dash and all other distractions, and finally managed to get this draft under control.

I was going to go the self-deprecation route and say this isn't an especially juicy chapter (as you can tell by the dearth of content warnings above), but honestly? I think it came out alright. Much better than all my worrying, overthinking and second-guessing made me believe.

For anyone who was worried, let me reiterate: this story is nowhere near over. Karl and Y/N have many more misadventures ahead of them. Unless or until Pr*ject 2*25 comes in to bulldoze all the smut, I intend to keep at my craft (this has been on my mind, sadly, and it probably didn't help my writer's block)

Let's not waste any more time, shall we?

🛑🚫✋🏾ADULT CONTENT, MUST BE 18+  ✋🏾🚫🛑

It’s been a little over a week since Lord Heisenberg left.

And everywhere you go, you hear whispers. 

This, in and of itself, is nothing new. These are the very same whispers that fill the factory each and every time Lord Heisenberg departs for one of his family visits. After a while, the repetition seems to form a chant:

We’ll know if ... we’ll know if ... we’ll know if …

Back when you were still a newcomer to the village and a new factory recruit, all this chatter seemed rather cryptic and ominous. Now that you’ve been here a while? It’s still ominous, but no longer so cryptic. You can fill in the blanks now and finish the refrain like a tired old jingle everybody knows:

"We'll know if he comes back later than last time."

"We'll know if he comes back earlier than last time.”

"We'll know if soldat security increases at the perimeters."

It’s war. They're talking about war. 

No one says the word, but it's right on the tip of everyone’s tongue: We'll know (we're going to war) if …

You’ve been a resident long enough to have gone through a handful of such visits. And each time is marked by the same feeling of unease and uncertainty. The same tension and speculation. The same whispers.

And why wouldn't it? Along with the whispers, you've also grown familiar with the village's precarious position - the curious razor's edge on which both it and the factory rests:

The four Lords, against all odds, have maintained an uneasy truce in the absence of the puppet-mistress that kept them all (relatively) in check during her infernal heyday.  

An inevitable power vacuum opened up upon Mother Miranda’s death - only to promptly collapse back in on itself when it became clear that none of the Lords were particularly keen on staking their claim over all four territories.

Or getting the wherewithal together to go to war for said claim. 

Or to do seemingly anything but retreat to their own respective domains and continue to quietly loathe one another from a distance.

And so they did exactly that ... for a while, anyway.

For a few years after Miranda's death - or so you had learned through a mix of research, hearsay and context clues - there had been … squabbles here and there. 

Nothing as dramatic as war. More like skirmishes - disputes over taxes and grain and which bodies were dropped in whose territory. Trivial things like that. 

Eventually, a pattern began to emerge:

The longer the Lords stayed out of one another's sights, the more suspicions began to brew. 

The more these suspicions were left brewing, the more these disputes tend to spring up.

And when more of these disputes sprung up, the more talk of honest-to-God warfare was bandied about seriously.

So despite not being able to stand one another, the four Lords realized - much to each of their chagrin - that they needed to maintain some form of close contact just to keep a semblance of peace.

Nothing approaching real unity, but … a mostly indefinite ceasefire, if nothing else.

And so it was decided: there would be a semi-annual gathering.

A "family reunion", of sorts. 

None of their strongholds are ever host to these gatherings, and to the best of anyone’s knowledge (anyone well enough to be alive and running their mouth anyway), no one but the four of them and their approved attendants are privy to these gatherings.

They can't tolerate being in close proximity to one another for much longer than a week, so that’s roughly how long these visits tend to last before they scatter back to their realms. 

How heartwarming, you think acerbically, more than a little reminded of your own purposefully distant relatives ...  

As far as family dynamics go, it's not quite ideal, but they seem to have made it work. You’re hardly one to judge.

You come to a stop in front of the open workshop door. You peek inside, still half-expecting to see him there, as if he never actually left. 

It's empty, of course. Just as you knew it would be.

You step inside, slowly touring the space as though you haven't been here so many times before.

You stop to linger over his desk the same way you did the first time you ever set foot in here.

His absence is an entity unto itself. Everywhere you expect to see him there is only a harsh, crackling void - a cluster of static where flesh, blood, bulk and wrath should be. It has the shape of him, a kind of rough outline, but with nothing inside the lines you have to squint to even see.

Is this what being haunted feels like?

You park yourself in his chair, take a deep breath and try to gather your thoughts, shaking off the uncharacteristic superstition with some difficulty.   

As much as the possibility of war might still hang in the balance, it seems neither more nor less likely than it did the last few times they gathered.

There's really no use worrying about it further. If it's coming, it's coming; if it's not, it's not. Even with your tendency to overthink, you're perfectly fine leaving it at that. 

Besides … even with all the whispers and speculation and the usual hand wringing all around, you can't help but dwell on ... other matters.

…

... Who are you kidding? Your mind isn't on war at all. It hasn't been for quite some time now. Not really.

The only thing troubling you at the moment is the waiting. The loneliness. The knowledge that you're here alone, he's nowhere to be found, and you have entirely too much time on your hands to dwell on how you'll likely fall all over yourself upon his return. 

That alone would be humiliating enough, but of course, your tortured psyche doesn’t stop there. Oh, no.

To add insult to injury, your sense of honor pretty much dictates that you have to thank him the next time you see him. 

You crumple over your Lord’s desk, dropping your head into your folded arms and letting out a wretched groan. 

Kill me. Fucking kill me.

You tried to reason with yourself. You tried to talk yourself out of your resolution. Really, you did. But you have to face the facts. The relief he gave you was essentially by force - no getting around that - but he gave it to you regardless.

An awful, queasy tenderness clenches your stomach. Yeah … Yeah, he gave it to me, alright … 

Your heat seems to have ... not vanished, per se, but ... it's calmer now.

Not calm, mind you, but definitely calmer than it was before he took you in hand.

You still have a libido, to be sure, but it seems to have returned to the state that it was in prior to you getting so close to Karl - perfectly healthy, able to be satiated by one (or two) self-induced orgasms before you fall asleep. 

It's a bit like the banged-up old furnace in the workshop: still chugging along, not in any particular danger of getting out of control, but always just a hair too friendly to leave anything flammable near it without worry.

It's not the dizzy, ravenous thing that it was before, ready to engulf you in flames. For that alone, you have to thank him. It’s only fair.

Maybe that's how this works? Maybe he fucked it right out of me …

The idea seems ridiculous. You can’t help but wonder, though.

You’re wondering about a lot of things, in fact. Even if he did put that fire out, your Lord still left you with a lot of unanswered questions, far more than he did the last time he disappeared on you. 

Chief among them being just how he plans to debauch you the next time you meet.

You try to temper your expectations. After all, who's to say he's got anything up his sleeve?

You've been around the block once or twice. Enough to have known more than a few men who lose interest once the chase is over. 

Who's to say Lord Heisenberg isn't the same? 

Somehow you doubt that. With anyone else you might have called this misplaced optimism or maybe even an excess of confidence in your womanly charms, but … not him.

No, he made himself very clear.

You shut your eyes as his melodic voice breaks into your mind for what might be the millionth time that week: 

… Good girl … 

… We’ll do the rest next time …

A shudder passes through you yet again at the memory of that night and of that moment at the end, in particular. You rub the gooseflesh up and down your arms. 

What did he mean by that? 

What could he possibly have meant by that? 

What in the bloody fuck is "the rest"?

Yes, these are the questions and concerns plaguing you night and day.

Not the prospect of war. Not the possibility of the village and the factory and every living thing therein going up in smoke.

No.

It's what Lord Heisenberg might still have in store for the two of you.

****

Your Lord is standing over you.

Hovering, really. With clear intent.

The intent being sex. Needy, reckless sex. Hip-bruising, irresponsible, "daddy's home" sex.

Of course, you have no way of knowing this because you're fast asleep.

He returned to the factory under cover of darkness, didn't alert anyone to his presence, didn't drum up any kind of fanfare. Again: you don't know because you're asleep.

Asleep, less than half-dressed for bed and being utterly devoured by your Lord's travel-weary eyes.

You truly are a sight to behold - all brown skin, soft curves pillowing sinewy muscle, sweet little snores and such delicious vulnerability.

He sinks to his knees beside his own bed, watching the rise and fall of your shoulders and back. You're a face-down sleeper. He can't see your face in this position.

Thankfully, you're prone to toss and turn.

He watches you do exactly that. You toss. You turn. The longer and more intently he looks, the more restless you seem to become.

You roll onto your back. And then your side. You adjust and readjust several times, still deep in your slumber but clearly made restless by your Lord's proximity.

The tiniest smile - the first one he’s cracked in weeks - begins to stir at the corners of his mouth at the notion that even dead-asleep, you can't help but respond to his presence.

He's tired. Nearly worn out from this hellish but necessary trip. Not too tired to put it all behind him and lose himself inside of you again.

He watches you a little longer, the urge to pounce nearly unbearable.

Then his eyes shift to something else, something resting on your bedside table. Something that gives him pause.

Something that shouldn't be there.

He looks at you again. He backs away even as the urge to rut starts to claw at his insides.

Those welcoming curves of yours don't seem quite so friendly now as they did just a moment ago.

He swears under his breath, still tempted to hurl himself on top of you. If not for the express purpose of shooting another load into you, then to interrogate you.

That can wait. He's seen enough for now. Enough to know not to make his presence known.

Not just yet ...

He leaves again, fading into the shadows of the factory. 

****

Somewhere between sleeping and waking, at the foggy intersection of what might be either a dream or a memory, you feel a familiar, thrilling, pulsing awareness rip and crackle through your skin like lightning.

You wake up abruptly, heart pounding, with sweat beading in your scalp and two words blaring like a twin-bell alarm inside your skull:

He's back.

The certainty of it grips your chest so tight you can barely breathe. The excitement measures somewhere between a child on Christmas morning and a helpless bystander bracing for the impact of a nuclear missile.

It takes you a good minute or so, but you manage to get air into your lungs. You roll around, scenting the bed with the feverish determination of a bloodhound.

His scent is there ... but it's faint. Becoming even more faint with each passing moment. As though he was there before, but isn't there anymore.

Your pulse slows back down, becoming almost sluggish with disappointment.

A dream. That's all it was. 

Of course his scent is all around you. 

Of course it's faint.

You’ve been burrowing under the covers on his side of the bed for about six days now, chasing the phantom of his scent even as it grows weaker and weaker the longer he's gone. It's still there, but it wanes more with each night that you're alone.

That doesn’t mean he was here.

You glance around regardless. You were so sure. You could have sworn ...

But no.

You punch his pillow petulantly.

Pathetic, you berate yourself. This is pathetic. You're being pathetic.

You tug the heavy covers back over your head and try to force yourself to go back to sleep. And immediately you know it's going to be impossible. You're already fighting back the urge to climb out of bed and stumble half-naked through the predawn darkness into the workshop.

And then … what, exactly?

Do the exact same shit you've done for the past few weeks? Stare blankly at the schematics and blueprints and gears and jars scattered about the place as though standing where he stood and looking where he looked would somehow conjure the man up? Torture yourself that much more by wallowing in the inescapable fact that he isn’t there?

What good will that do? you try to reason with yourself. Go back to sleep. You have a long day ahead, and it’s still fucking dark out.

You shut your eyes and tell yourself you’re going back to bed - all the while still clinging for dear life to your Lord’s pillow … in your Lord’s bed … clad in one of your Lord’s shirts …

For fuck’s sake - !

It's no use. 

You find yourself drifting back to the last few moments of consciousness you remember prior to your three days of "rest".

Specifically, that unforgettable moment when your Lord spilled himself inside of you.

It's a well-worn memory at this point, every inch of it thoroughly engraved into your body and your brain - yet you still shiver and squirm in his sheets as if it’s still so fresh and new. As if it could be happening all over again, even now.

You remember the preternatural warmth of it, the delicious way it had crept through you, seeming to bridge the boundaries of organs and flesh so that it might seep into your nerves and bones.

You try to focus on that moment as dispassionately as possible. It's difficult because all you want to do is get lost in it again. You want it to overtake you.

By some miracle, you don't let it.

Instead, you consider what came immediately afterwards: namely, that overwhelming certainty that something was ... different. That feeling that something changed in that moment. 

You sit upright in bed, finally confronting the one thing you’ve managed to dance around for the entire time he’s been away.

Something has changed. Something is different. Inside. You don't know what it is, or what it was, or even how worried you should be. But something has definitely changed.

You snort, despite not finding much humor in it. Any other woman would know what that “something" is and not find it all so puzzling.

You place a hand to your belly, allowing yourself a moment to wonder what pregnancy might feel like. Or some other supposedly quintessentially "female" experience must seem like.

You picture your stomach swelling, becoming gradually more distended, a new life forming and growing within, nourished by your body’s resources.

... Then you shrug, bored with what amounts to a useless thought experiment on your part.

You don't menstruate. You never have. There was a time when you were very young when you wondered why, but you've long since outgrown that curiosity.   

When you were young, you grew curly hair under your arms and between your legs. Your shape developed early and opulently. Your features matured, your voice deepened, adolescence carving the woman you are today from the common clay of youthful baby fat, working the same womanly magic as it did on many, if not all, of the other young girls you grew up around.

... But you never bled. Never so much as a drop. Not even once.

Your curious hand had ventured down many times by that point, having discovered the pleasure you could give yourself and the glossy slick that accompanied your arousal - but never blood.

It should stand to reason that Lord Heisenberg couldn't impregnate you even if he wanted to.  

You aren't absolutely certain though. It might be another silly bout of superstition (one too many old wive's tales about men's virility, perhaps?) or your genuine lack of knowledge about lycan breeding, but in the privacy of your own mind, you can admit to worrying about it anyway.

After all ... if anyone's seed was potent enough to find a way around that, it would have to be his, right?

You draw your legs together tightly, crossed at the ankle, knees pressing up against your chest as you fold yourself into a fetal position. Humiliating shudders of arousal begin to ripple through you at the thought of your Lord setting himself to the task of breeding you thoroughly.

You make yourself breathe through your nose, fighting for calm even as the mental image of him hammering his seed into you as you cry and beg him to stop flashes vividly in your mind.

Holy fuck, get a grip, you tell yourself. Even to your own mind, it sounds less like a stern reprimand and more like the desperate plea of a woman on the verge of collapse.

You linger a little longer on the idea, heart fluttering stupidly at the sweet, horrid words your imaginary Lord growls into your ear, all the while keeping up a brutal, steady stroke.

But no. Your own special circumstance and the shared bond of lycanthropy aside, there's one thing that pretty much overrules everything else.

The "gift" coursing like ichor through each of the Lord's veins. The cadou. 

The very thing that makes the four of them so extraordinary. Too extraordinary to replicate or reproduce as every one of the Lords is widely known to be barren, infertile or mutated in such a way as to make insemination and childbearing impossible. 

That's about as close to a guarantee, you think sardonically, as a girl can get.

You wonder if any of the Lords - but Heisenberg, in particular - possess your same incurious stance on their own sterility.

You yourself have had several decades of knowing your particular branch of the family tree won't be bearing any fruit. If there ever was a time when you were saddened or even especially concerned by that, you've long since made peace with the notion.

Ultimately, you do with these thoughts what you did with the collective worries about war, and set them aside for another day. 

No use getting tangled up in hypotheticals. Similar to speculations about war, it wouldn't do much good dwelling on this sort of thing either. Not when there's work to do.

With that much resolved, you crawl to the edge of the massive bed and place your bare feet firmly on the ground. It’s time to start the day.

Your gaze falls on the bedside table, drawn to the cassette player sitting there.

Put that back before he gets home, you think abruptly.

You try to tell yourself you're being paranoid, but you find yourself sitting up and taking the device in your hands anyway.

You stare down at it. You're not sure what this feeling is - apprehension? Dread? Excitement?

Perhaps this is what your dream was really telling you. Not that Karl had really returned, but that you had perhaps gotten a little too … comfortable in some ways during his absence.

Yes, some housekeeping is definitely in order.

You hit rewind on the cassette player, not sure if you're doing so for your own purposes or if you're covering your tracks.

You freeze. There it is again: that curious twinge of fear.

Covering my tracks?

You puzzle at your own phrasing. What an odd thing to say. But now you're wondering: would he be upset if he knew you had been listening his monographs?

Well ... maybe not if he knew why ...

Your face flushes molten-hot at the idea. No. Absolutely not. Confessing to that is simply a bridge too far.

You’ll thank him for fucking some sense back into you, but you can’t cop to anything more embarrassing than that. He’d be so smug and insufferable about it.

Just like he was about his gloves …

Another graphic memory of the two of you together barges back into your mind, sending an unhelpful ripple through your pussy.

GET A FUCKING GRIP, you scold yourself as you march into the workshop, determined to put this whole strange morning with all its circular ruminating behind you.

You're just starting to shimmy the device back into one of the higher cubbyholes over the workbench running along the workshop's back wall when you hear something behind you.

Before you can confirm what that something is, you feel a gust of wind and hear the unmistakable sound of something heavy and metallic connecting with the wall directly to your right.

You turn your head to see what it is and freeze.

A huge, magnetic sheet had been soldered to the wall within the last year or so. Crowding the bottom were a host of screws, wrenches and gears yet to be put to use.

And right at the top was your Lord’s enormous hammer. 

It wasn’t there a moment ago. 

It hasn’t been there for weeks. 

Your Lord took it with him. 

When he left. 

You blink slowly, your stunned brain trying and failing to put the very obvious pieces in front of you together into a coherent picture. 

"Looking for something?"

You finally turn around, unfrozen by the voice suddenly filling what you thought was an empty space.

And there he is, in all his rugged glory. Filling the huge metal door frame like Death come to collect His due.

You stare at him, processing this turn of events just as slowly as you did the sudden appearance of the hammer.

You realize several things at once:

Firstly, that you were right before: he did come back. He must really have been in the bedroom before you woke up in a cold sweat. It wasn't a dream or some weird premonition. Even in a dead sleep, you had sensed his presence.

Second ... during all the commotion, you had instinctively snatched the cassette player back out of the cubby, fearing you might drop or crush it during the chaos. As a result, it's still in your hands when you turn to face him. And even you can tell: it looks awfully suspicious that you’re holding it. 

Oh ... This doesn't look good, does it? you think dumbly as he begins to move toward you.

His eyes fall to the player clutched in your hands.

… Yeah, this doesn't look good at all.

[longing-for-rain]

This is unacceptable behavior

So this morning, I found this blog who has apparently taken it upon themselves to “call out” anyone they suspect of using AI in either fan art or fanfics. No proof needed; just send them an anon ask and they’ll start throwing people under the bus.

This person is harassing artists, writers, and anyone who questions them. They’re even demanding that artists upload videos of themselves drawing by hand to “prove” they’re real.

Reading their blog gets even more disturbing. Apparently “suspicious activity” for artists can be something as simple as experimenting with a different style, having trouble drawing hands, improving too quickly, uploading too quickly, or even using digital watercolor. So essentially, artists deserve harassment for being too good, not good enough, or if they don’t use 100% traditional techniques. Do you really think that’s helping artists? All you’re doing is intimidating people away from their hobbies and encouraging toxicity. Cut it out.

For context, yesterday @azula-brain messaged me in my DMs to accuse me of AI usage. I explained that a) I don’t consider my images “AI art” in the sense of “push a button and it makes a picture” because I only use it as a filter over my existing work, b) that I’ve posted detailed explanations of my artistic process before and that still didn’t stop people from harassing me over anon. She also accused me of charging people for art, which I very clear state in my pinned post that I do not accept commissions.

I’m committing a crime by not using fully traditional art, and by having a tip jar (keep in mind, many blogs simply use the built in tumblr feature which is easily understood to be for tipping bloggers they like, not art commission payments). I told her I suggest she simply block and move on if she was unhappy, but apparently that wasn’t good enough, so she called me out by name instead along with the above noted misinformation after I refused to bow to her threats over DMs.

But anyways, I’m done caving to threats, and so should the rest of you. Nothing you do will ever appease the mob, and I’m sick of these literal children making blogs like this thinking they’re saving the world, when literally they’re just stirring up drama and harassing random artists who were doing nothing wrong.

[skyfallscotland]

Writing Advice: tips, tricks & helpful links, from your friendly neighbourhood fanfic author ✨ (part one—the advice)

see part two—the resources here

I've mentioned this before, but I truly believe no one's born a great writer. A great storyteller, yes. A great writer? That's learned. I've been reading and writing basically as long as I can remember. Learning to write is like...learning through both practice and symbiosis. In saying that, I get asked about this a lot, so here's what I do and some things that might help you.

Write what you're inspired to write, when you're inspired to write it.

So you have an idea—great! Are you a plotter or a pantser? Some people like to start with an outline, others just jot down a few notes and let the keyboard take them where it will. I'm in the latter camp, generally. For me, the best way to avoid writer's block is to write what I'm inspired to write, when I want to write it. Sometimes I'll write five chapters of a story at once, others I'll switch between a multi-chapter and a one-shot.

What's most important for me, personally, is that I don't try and force anything. If you suffer from demand avoidance, the worst thing you could possibly do (in my opinion), is set arbitrary goals. You don't need to write 500 words a day. If you want to, great! If that helps you, also great, but in my experience, that will generally just make my brain say well no, now we're not writing anything for a whole week, maybe a month, if you test me.

I also personally like to have a whole fic written before I start posting it online, or at least most of it written. I like being quite far ahead of what readers are seeing because I am a pantser. It takes the pressure off and honestly, there'd be so many plot holes if I didn't. Which brings me to...

First make it exist, then make it make sense, after that make it good.

What you see me post is not my first run-through. It's not even the second. I've written, read over, and changed things at least a handful of times before ever posting it, especially when it's a multi-chapter work. Sometimes I'll write a scene I love and then realise it just doesn't flow well, because three chapters back I had someone say a certain thing. In that instance, I'll put the scene aside.

Note that I said 'put aside' not 'delete'. I never delete them until I'm finished with a fic and I'm certain I won't need them, ever. Been there, made that mistake for you! Having a separate document with just various scenes you can insert at a later date also helps you to feel like it's ok to write what you want to write when you want to write it. I'll be honest, I jump around a lot. Sometimes I'll be inspired to write a scene I know isn't coming for another five chapters, but in my opinion it's best to just write it because when I get there five chapters down the line, I might not have the inspiration or I might have forgotten how I wanted things to go. Write what your brain wants to, fill in the blanks later!

Write from the heart.

My most popular work is the one I find the easiest to write and I almost never wrote it at all. Isn't that ridiculous? I almost never wrote it because I know it's cliché and excessive, and honestly...looked down upon. I almost didn't write it because of other people's opinions; then I said fuck it, I want to read it so surely there's someone else out there that does, too? Turns out there were thousands of you. Who knew?

But that work has really resonated with so many people and I think that's because I've poured so much of myself, my pain, my own experiences into it, into her. For that reason, I'd tell anyone starting out to try original character fic if that's what they want to do. Fuck the haters. All their favourite works were original characters once too.

Don't read similar fic while you're writing yours...unless you need to.

Let me explain. If I'm writing a certain type of alternate universe, or a certain storyline I know someone else has written, I won't read theirs until I'm done if I can help it, especially not if I'm actively writing my take on it. This isn't a hard and fast rule, it's obviously up to you what you feel comfortable with, but I would never want to have someone else's work influence my own too much, or get our ideas confused in my head, you know?

An exception to this rule, for me personally, is if I'm stuck with specific things in particular, like smut. When I wrote my first smut piece from a male POV, I was struck by the fact that I had no idea what an orgasm felt like for them, or how to describe it, because despite reading M/M fic for years, I apparently never absorbed that particular verbiage, so I went looking and read a whole bunch of smut from the male POV just to get an idea. Which leads into...

So you suck at kung-fu fighting.

Action scenes. I'm convinced we all hate them just as much as each other. I hate them so much I've changed whole plotlines from canon just so I don't have to include them. Unfortunately, my main fandom features a bunch of knife-throwing, sword-wielding, dragon riders at a war college who spar for clout, so I mean...it's unavoidable.

I still suck at writing it though, so what I now do for sparring and other hand-to-hand combat is search up youtube for sparring videos or self-defence lessons. It's much easier to describe what you're seeing than to imagine the mechanics and positioning of an artform you've never performed. The kung-fu thing was a joke, I like capoeira personally.

Stop being so damn hard on yourself.

Listen, everyone wants to be better than they are when they start out, literally everyone. I know I sure did. That's normal. Accept that it's normal before you start because the thing is, no one's a harsher critic on you, than you are and you'll always want to be better. There's a quote from Ira Glass that I'll paraphrase:

“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap[...]It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit."

It's very true. Hopefully you have the support of a really welcoming fandom to reassure you that actually, you're nowhere near as bad as you think you are.

READ. BOOKS.

@justallihere says you can’t be good at something you don’t know anything about and it's so true, I've phrased it before as learning by symbiosis, when you read more, you'll internalise more. You're subconsciously learning how story structure works—plot hooks, transitions, metaphors and similie, grammar, style and punctuation.

Show don't tell.

...yeah this one I haven't mastered, I could use some help with that myself if anyone's got any words of wisdom, thanks.

Take all of this with a grain of salt.

I couldn't tell you how many writer's advice threads and blogs and whatever-else I've read over the years—too many, for sure. What I can tell you is 80% of what I've read was crap. It doesn't apply to me at best and it's unhelpful at worst. Maybe it's the neurodivergence, maybe it's just the fact that everyone's different and all you can do is give things a try, but based on that I can say with certainty that not all of this will work for you and that's absolutely fine! But I hope at least a few things do 😌

For links to more specific resources including thesauruses, generators, and other writers' advice, click here.

[wrongcaitlyn]

do you have any tips on writing fanfics or just writing in general? usually anytime i try to write anything i can't help but just think it's too poorly written to like it. the dear readerverse is genuinely such a well written series and i look up to that type of ff writing so much (sorry if that sounds weird LOL! it's meant to be a compliment)

ahhsdf thank you so much!!! this is going to sound so basic but. truly the only way you can get better, i think, is to keep writing. i KNOW that's not the answer that anyone wants, but trust me when i say dear reader verse is far from the first thing i've written - i went through all the cringy phases, all the horrible writing tropes, the stilted dialogue and bad syntax. and writing is the only way to recognize what you don't like about your writing and how to improve! we have to push through the lowkey shitty phase to get to the good stuff :)

that being said, for me, the greatest motivation to keep writing has just been to completely obsess over an idea. at that point, you love it so much that you can't stand not seeing it, and then you HAVE to write it. while writing, you'll slowly get better, you'll probably be reading at the same time and learning tips and forming your style. just keep pushing through it, i know that ive had several writers block phases where i thought everything i was writing was shitty, and then when looking back it actually turned out to be pretty decent!

and in the end, the quality of the writing isn't the most important factor, especially when it comes to fanfic - something that you're doing primarily for yourself, for free, out of your love for the canon material. it's the fact that you managed to put your thoughts and ideas onto paper in the first place! as long as you've written something, you're on the right track.

[springnote]

Teasing Him HCs

includes: Jin, Chevalier, Clavis, and Leon

warnings: nsfw minors dni, fem!reader with vagina + boobs, piv sex, semi-public sex, fingering, slight edging, some degradation

Note: I wanted to do more of them but I’ve been having writers block, so part 2 will hopefully be soon

Jin:

• While all the princes have a fondness of teasing, the resident first prince/playboy of the castle especially loves to barb you with remarks like “want to get out of here and fool around?” He responds fairly well when the tables are turned, but can’t hold out for too long.

• If you throw the same remarks back at him, he might look surprised for a moment, but he’ll quickly smirk and say “sure thing baby, let’s go” before returning to whatever he was doing. He’s not prepared if you continue the game though

• You know his fondness of breasts? Well, if you hug his arm to your chest, pressing your boobs into his biceps, he’s gonna malfunction. How is he supposed to respond to that when you exploit his weakness?

• “Excuse me,” he’ll tell the people he was mingling with, not bothering to rattle off an excuse since everyone already knows his reputation, and then he’ll guide you to somewhere out of sight. You’ll find yourself hidden behind a pillar or tucked in an alley while he undoes the buttons on your blouse so he can grope and squeeze your chest.

• “Is this what you needed baby?” He’ll croon in your ear, pinching and rubbing your nipples til your head is full of static and you can only whimper in response. “You know I can’t resist your tits, I bet you can come just from this huh?” Prove his theory correct and he’ll be sure to do that more often, but if you manage to hold out, he’ll see if his cock can help speed things up.

Chevalier:

• the infamous brutal beast can withstand teasing fairly well, if you’re brave enough to try and rile him up. If you do decide to accept the risks, it’s going to take a bit more finesse to work.

• Knowing his fondness for the written word, if you slip him a rather lewd letter, his eyes will blink a little faster and an eyebrow will raise, but to really get his attention, a dirty poem will really do the trick.

• It may sound a bit cheesy, but if you rush to him with a sealed envelope and a showy exclamation of “This urgent message came for you!” He’s going to carefully read over the words with a stony expression before getting up with a flourish. “I have to leave. Come with me (y/n).”

• When you’ve managed to sneak away to his favorite reading spot, he’s going to give an amused scoff before bending you over a desk and pushing your skirts around your hips while he fingers you at an agonizingly slow pace. “That was rather clever, I guess you’re so desperate for a little release you’ll do anything hm?”

• He’ll edge you right to the tip of the breaking point before moving away, a smirk on his face as he moves to his favorite chair. “Did you think it would be that easy? Maybe if you suck my cock I’ll help you,” he’d spread his legs as he picked up a book, ready to enjoy himself while you squirm a little.

Clavis:

• He’s shameless, full stop. He’ll tease you in public without hesitation, and if you tease him, he’ll give as good, or better, than he gets. The man is a menace.

• Despite this, he does have some limits before he breaks, it just depends when and where. He likes showing you off and ‘marking his territory’ in a way, but he doesn’t want anyone to see what he gets to see during intimacy.

• If he catches a flash (or you flashing) your chest or too much cleavage he gets visibly antsy, but if your legs are more visible? He’s going to be a mess. And if, more specifically, your thighs somehow are visible? He’s already dragged you away to stumble down a hall and make out.

• He may not want people to see you being intimate, but he has no problem teasing you back to see if you might moan loud enough for someone to hear. “You’re such a naughty girl,” he’ll snicker, keeping you sandwiched between him and a wall while he rocks into you. “Are you going to let everyone know I make you moan like a whore?”

• The whole thing is playful, he secretly enjoys you being a little naughty and getting to play along, but he still wants to reinforce that your his and his alone. “I’m gonna mark you up after this, so you’ll remember how good I am at this.” He’ll grin, as he leads your shaking self to his room, ready to shower you with kisses.

Leon:

• Leon’s preferred method of flustering you and getting you to blush is just being so gentlemanly and charming you feel like you’ll explode from the butterflies he gives you. He does make things a bit “spicy” at times, but he’s such a picture perfect prince he usually saves that for in private.

• He doesn’t really get embarrassed if you tease him, he trusts you to not do anything too inappropriate in public, so he usually just gives you a soft smirk and an occasional comment, but keeps himself fairly contained.

• The best way to get a reaction out of him it to tell him what you did after the fact. What I mean by this, is going the whole day with no underwear or with a plug in, and confessing it to him that evening. He blushes before getting completely into it.

• “You gotta be more careful, I might have lost my composure if I’d found you out earlier,” he’d grin, shimmying his jacket off while he’d spread your legs a little to take a peek. “Would that please you? I could bend you over the throne and make love to you til you can’t even stand.”

• You’d find yourself on your hand and knees on your bed, your skirt pushed up above your hips while he fingered you from behind. Leon would kiss the sensitive spots on your neck while shushing you when you felt like wailing out, his fingers curling every time you made a noise. “You’re so pretty, all here just for me.”

[hellishjoel]

my first wip wednesday

thank you for the tag @iamasaddie! i've been writing on this silly website for over a year and have yet to participate in a wip wednesday (that I can recall...) i've always just been a bit of a lurker for this but I'm hoping this will help me get through some writers block!

this is in the next chapter of table for two (linecook!frankie morales x waitress f!reader) can you guess what three little words I'm talking about? hehehe

The words are at the tip of your tongue, and you can feel them spread heat throughout your body. You can hear both of your hearts beating, thundering against the human flesh, and signaling the feeling of being alive.  Frankie waits for the words. The feeling of anticipation has been lingering for quite some time. Your touch of nervousness was welcome, expected even. A moment in time when your heart feels exposed but also overwhelmingly full. Only hoping that the other person feels the same way, yet uncertain of how they will respond. A game of chicken of who will say it first and who will have to respond. The leap of faith one will be forced to make and the right words the other will have to find. Both roles are downright frightening.

can you guess what three little words I'm talking about? hehehe

no pressure tags: @thetriumphantpanda @jolapeno @pedgito @shellshocklove @penvisions @coquettepascal and anyone else who wants to join!

[i05wook]

Hi sorry to bother you…but could you possibly do an nct dream scenario where the members really appreciate it when their s/o scratches their back? Preferably with extra fluff^^

Scratch my back?? - NCT Dream

pairing: bf! dreamies x gn! reader

genre: fluff, romance, established relationship au!

summary: the members really appreciate it when their s/o scratches their back.

wc: 848

author’s notes: Thank you so much anon for this request!! Requests like this never bother me!! If anyone had any requests I am more than happy to write them <3 I’m so sorry it took so long though, I was really suffering from writers block.

Lee Mark - 이마크

Sometime our Mark Lee has no filter, as soon as he feels an itchy sensation, he makes some sort of noise, which makes you very confused at first. It’s only when you see him, both arms behind his back, one over his shoulder, and one around the back of his waist, both aiming for the same goal: the middle of his shoulder blades. At this sight you can’t help but laugh at your silly little boyfriend. It was at the sound of your laughter that Mark turns around wondering what began your laughing fit, however the confused look on his face causes yet another fit of laughter to erupt from deep within your stomach. Once your laughter has calmed (only after seeing Mark pouting), you decided to finally help him scratch his back, before hugging him and kissing his still pouting lips.

Huang Renjun - 黄仁俊

Renjun loves lying face to face with you in bed ever since the start of your relationship. He loves brushing your hair out of the way and rubbing your nose with his hand, and even counting your freckles (if you have them). In return, one day you started to rub your nails gently up and down his back, and it was then he knew he was in love with you. It may have only been something small, but he loved it. To him, it felt almost romantic. However, the next time you lay face to face, you never did it, in fact you lay with your hands resting on the sides of his waist. He was so displeased that you weren’t giving him the attention he wanted that he stopped rubbing your nose, grabbed your hands and placed them at the top of his back, by his shoulder blades. He looked at you with his puppy dog eyes and asked for you to do what you did last time. Instantaneously, you let out a small chuckle before satisfying the poor boy.

Lee Jeno - 이제노

Jeno is so incredibly shy about asking his s/o to scratch his back, sometimes even shyer than Jisung and Mark put together. Even after months or years of you being in a relationship, he still gets somewhat flustered asking you to scratch his back. It’s definitely something he’d only ask though in the privacy of your own home, or away from anyone else, worried that the other boys may tease him over something so trivial.

Lee Donghyuck - 이동혁

Haechan ain’t got no shame. If his back is itchy he’ll tell you to scratch it. Even from the beginning of the relationship, he doesn’t care. His comfort is more important than any embarrassment that the others might have felt asking that question to their s/o. However, he doesn’t like asking you around the boys… he feels slightly weird that he enjoys the feeling of you soothing his itch, but he doesn’t want the boys to know.

Na Jaemin - 나재민

Jaemin has no shame, but similar to Renjun, it’s not when his back is itchy that he appreciates you scratching his back, but when he is tired after a long day or week of practice, and he gets the chance to just feel peace in your presence. It became habit after a couple of months being together, that after his promotions or practices, you would head over to the dorms and spend a night just pampering your boy. He loved it when you massaged him, removing any knots in his muscles, but his favourite thing was at the end of the massage, you would always run the tips of your fingers up and down his back. He just found that there was something soothing about the action, that he often drifted to sleep before you’d even finish, accepting the position of small spoon for the night.

Zhong Chenle - 钟辰乐

Similarly to Haechan, he doesn’t care about his pride(???) If the itch is that uncomfortable he would rather ask you to deal with it than to suffer in silence. However, he would be a little more shy about it if it’s at the beginning of the relationship. If it happens in front of the boys and any of them try to tease him, he will threaten to revoke their privileges.

Park Jisung - 박지성

At the beginning of your relationship, Jisung feels really awkward asking his s/o to scratch his back, so awkward in fact that if his back does get itchy whilst he is with his s/o, he would much rather suffer with the itch until he is writhing from the uncomfortable sensation on his back. It would be this that caught your attention and immediately you’d place your hand on the centre of his back and lightly scrape your fingertips in the right spot on his back to satisfy the itch. Since that day, Ji has no issues in asking you to scratch his back, even if he doesn’t have an itch, he still asks you to do it because there’s something so weirdly affectionate and soothing when you do it.

requests: open

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @enhacolor @acaiasahi @duolingofanaccount @hyukapufff