#it's just a complete black hole of creativity

[nodirectionhome-ao3]

I feel like I'm close to being able to post chapter 36 of KSFM, but there is ONE GODDAMN SCENE that is very important and unable to be cut, but every time I try to write it, my brain draws a complete blank. I literally can't write anything readable when it comes to this scene, but the story can't progress without it. It's a big part of why I took a break this summer, and yet time hasn't eased this specific writer's block at all🙃

[neuromantis]

aw2 gave me perhaps, one of the most important realizations of my life. just now. "how do you run from an idea?"

the world i created when i started writing. i liked it. and i liked my characters. they were real to me. but. i could escape there. but i couldn't live there. with my family and friends and loved ones, the only ones i've had then.

i needed to stay outside and keep writing them. i could never join them. so i kept writing. every day i would write more of it, obsessively. and with that came a realization of the genre of the story it was shaping up to be.

i keep calling it "automatic writing", because i really never felt like i was in control of it. ideas just used me as a conduit. the story was telling itself. and it wasn't. a nice story. not one with hopes or happy endings.

i once told someone a long time ago that i couldn't stand writing anymore because i loved those people. loved their world. but if i made more of it. they'd have to suffer for it. so i quit. i kept meeting new ideas and characters and i only wrote down the barest of outlines. because the narrative would inevitably doom them, there had to be no narrative anymore.

i think what also made me stop it, was meeting Adam. a guy i knew like 10 years ago who suddenly messaged me. he re-sent me my own message to him from 2013. "well what about the fact that perhaps there IS a god, but he just specifically hates you?"

the last couple of years made me accept it. Adam is me. N(adam)ian. The one who made it all. The one who set up the rules. The one they'd be suffering for. And I don't want to be that. So I chose to leave them. They don't let me. But at least I can not write.

[another-lost-mc]

When They Go Down on You Headcanons | THE DEMON BROTHERS 1.9k words | NSFW | afab!Reader | Smutty Content warnings: Typical demon possessiveness, mentions of teasing and overstimulation, demon forms mentioned (Lucifer, Leviathan), marking (Satan), 69 mentioned (Belphegor) A/N: Read [Part 2 - The Dateables] HERE

LUCIFER

Lucifer grins wickedly with satisfaction when he lays you on his sheets, positioning your legs over his shoulders so your soft thighs can squeeze against him while he feasts on you. His hands massage the fat of your hips, your belly, and your breasts, desperate to touch you as much as possible. He traces the shape of his name around your clit with his tongue, over and over again, until you're completely spent, throat hoarse and body trembling beneath him.

Sometimes you think he knows you better than you know yourself; he's slow and soft some days, and other times he's ravenous. You run your fingers through his hair lazily when you sigh, content with the slow, syrupy pleasure that seeps through you. Or, you arch your back and grasp his sheets, your cries pitching higher as hot, aching need builds between your legs. He thinks your pleasure is beautiful, and he swears he can come untouched from listening to the sounds he draws from you.

If you dare to look down your body where he rests between your legs, all you can see are his ruby eyes blazing into yours. Even if you close your eyes, you can't possibly forget who’s devouring you like a demon starved. You can hear the loud, wet sounds when he mouths against you. Occasionally, his black wings spread out behind him and snap with the tension of holding himself back, his own desire for you building in him like an inferno. He must be patient; he wants you to come on his tongue alone, over and over again, before he fills you with his cock. He’s going to give you everything you beg him for, because he’s the only one that can truly satisfy you.

MAMMON

Mammon doesn’t care when, or how, or who’s on top - the hunger for you burns inside him, and even the smallest, most innocent gestures you make throughout the day send his mind reeling. He has to be creative because when he craves you, he doesn’t have patience to find a bed, or even a flat surface. He’ll take you on the hood of his car, over the sofa in the living room, or against a wall. Today, his bedroom door will have to do.

As soon as his door closes he’s crowding you against it, dropping to his knees and prying open your thighs so he can bury his face against you. He groans when he traces your slit through your clothes and he can already feel how soaked you are for him. He mutters insincere apologies if he rips something, yanking your clothes down just enough to get to your bare skin. He can’t wait anymore.

He buries his face against your mound, fingers spreading your folds wide so he can swipe his tongue across your pretty hole and spread the sweet slick up around your clit. He moans greedily when your fingers tangle in his hair and you scratch your nails along his scalp. His hands hold you steady when your thighs buckle; he’ll always be there to catch you when you fall.

LEVIATHAN

When Leviathan wants to go down on you, you lay down on the soft pillows inside his tub and spread your legs to give him plenty of room. He wasn’t a virgin when you met him, but he was a little shy and awkward in the beginning of your relationship. You wanted to let him have as much control as possible, to give him the space to explore your body while giving him an easy way to pull back and stop if he got overwhelmed. You figured letting him lay - or kneel - between your legs was the best way to do that.

What you didn’t anticipate was that he would grow addicted to having this kind of power over you. He’s sloppy when he licks at your folds and sucks on your clit, and when you whimper his name, he fills your needy hole with two thick fingers. He wraps his tail around your leg to keep you from moving too much - he has you exactly where he wants you. When you come on his tongue - loudly, with your back arching against him - he leans forward crashes his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue while his tail creeps slowly up the inside of your thighs, teasing the empty space where his fingers used to be.

SATAN

Satan wants to take his time with you, but sometimes it's easier said than done. His love can burn hot and fast, like his rage often does, and it consumes you. When his mind is cloudy with the anger that churns deep within him, his ministrations are fast and sloppy and desperate, his fingers pumping in and out of you while he sucks bruises into your thighs. Once he's satisfied you're marked properly, he replaces his fingers with his tongue. When you're finally spent, you try to clench your thighs closed, weak and trembling from his attentions. His hands keep you still so he can spread your legs open even wider. He loves watching the way your folds grow slick and creamy every time he makes you come; he needs to see for himself that you're truly satisfied. 

As much as the devilish side of him enjoys the sound of your wails while he’s tongue-deep inside you, he also likes to be slow and deliberate. Sometimes he wants pleasure to wash over you gently like a wave coming onto shore. He flicks the hood of your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing you at first with pressure that's not quite enough and not quite where you want it. He wants to feel your body move with his as he slowly builds the sensations within you. When your whimpers and pleas grow too much for him to bear, then - only then - will he give you what you want. 

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus is insatiable for you. You’ll be begging him to stop long before he’s had his fill; he can't get enough of you. He doesn’t always have the luxury of time and privacy to take you apart thoroughly and properly the way he wants to, but when he does? You’re going to be a whimpering, trembling mess by the time he’s finished.

He flops back on his bed, dragging you down with him and holding your hips while you straddle his waist. He likes to start slow, kissing your mouth softly and humming against your lips. You're so sweet. It doesn't take long for his soft, tentative kisses to become messy and passionate. It’s only the promise of what’s to come next that forces him to stop chasing the taste of your mouth. He’s still hungry for more.

He pulls your hips forward, urging you up his body so you’re straddling his face. He presses a trail of open-mouthed kisses against the insides of your thighs, and you’re already shaking with anticipation and subtly trying to grind down against his face.

By the time his lips find your clit and flicks it with his tongue, one of your hands is gripping his hair while the other is holding onto the headboard of his bed. He has an arm wrapped around your thigh to steady you; the other hand trails up your belly so he can fondle your breast and tease your nipple between his fingertips. He smiles against your folds when you moan his name, and only when you’re drained of pleasure - and the lower half of his face is saturated with your slick - does he finally let you go.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub's hunger for you drives him to distraction more than any craving for food ever has. As much as he’d like to pull you down to the ground and dive between your thighs whenever the mood suits him, he wants you to be comfortable when he does it. He likes to kneel at your feet when you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, or his bed, or the sofa, or the workout bench in the gym - anywhere he can make himself cozy between your legs and worship you with his mouth the way you deserve.

He tries to savor you, teasing both of you with the last bit of self control he has. He kisses your thighs and breathes in the scent of your arousal like it's ambrosia. He loves the way you run your fingers through his hair and you hum when he touches you, gently at first, like you’re something precious to him. It’s not long before his restraint inevitably crumbles. He runs his finger along your folds, nearly drooling at the sight of creamy slick that coats his fingertip. He dips his finger into your entrance, and you can’t help but stare into his eyes when he brings it to his mouth and licks it clean.

His eyes darken at the taste of you, and the low growl in his throat is your last warning. He leans forward and pulls your body to him so he can drag his tongue along your folds and around your clit. He sucks the delicate skin between his lips and groans with his own satisfaction when you shudder. His hands on your hips encourage you to grind against his face. You’re a literal feast for his senses; all he can feel is your warm, plush thighs holding him in place while he savors the taste of you on his tongue.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor lays back on a pile of pillows on his bed in the attic so you can straddle his waist, and he crooks his finger at you to scoot a little closer. He nudges you to turn around and your mouth just so happens to hover over his hard, weeping cock. When he grabs your hips and pulls you down towards his smirk, he makes it seem like he’s doing you a favour. His bratty ruse only lasts for so long, though. He teases your clit with lazy, open-mouthed kisses and slow drags of his tongue along your folds. He moans against you when he feels the vibrations of your pleased, muffled sounds around his cock.

Even though he enjoys the silky glide of your lips around him and the way your tongue circles the tip of his cock, what he really loves is to see you lose control. It doesn't take long before you give up altogether and let him slip from your mouth so you can moan in earnest. (He knows you'll return the favour later.)

He focuses on flicking his tongue against your entrance, encouraging you to rock back against his mouth so he's even closer . He doesn't stop until you make more of those gorgeous sounds for him. He wants you to feel how greedy he is when he laps at your hole and dips his tongue inside, teasing your fluttering walls with a hint of what’s to come later. He wants you to hear the obscene, squelching sounds as he laps at your slick like he’s starving for it. He wants you to hear the wet sounds his tongue makes when he circles your clit before he sucks on it just right.

After you ride out the aftershocks and squirm out of his grip, he lays back with a sigh. He waits for you to you turn around and when you finally face him, eyes bright and glazed over, he smacks his lips so he can watch you get flustered all over again.

[talkbycolor]

halloween night

A/N; y e s, solivan as ghostface, HAPPY HALLOWEEN !!!

Pairing; "Solivan Brugmansia" x AFAB!Reader

CW; panic at the disco anxiety on the kitchen / non-con / ghostface mask stays on during sex / both are fucked up, grow up / dead dove as always / established relationship, unhealthy relationship / Sol is aggresive towards MC, important point

Halloween night! Who doesn't like that holiday? Parties, costumes, candy, terror, a time to enjoy with friends… Sure, if you had any.

It's not that you were a super strange person that people would avoid at school, you had friends who knew how to have fun and liked your company, in fact, Crowe kept texting you to remind you about the party Brittney had planned and if it was her party, you were pretty sure it would be as loud as it was mind-blowing.

You were almost ready, even if your costume wasn't the most creative it was in keeping with the theme, you just had to finish putting on your shoes.

…

You were a ghost, Brittney was definitely going to make fun of you, who would think of taking a white blanket and making two holes in it?

Well, it was worse than nothing, besides, the fun would be chatting with friends and playing together, you couldn't wait to see-…

Knock, knock

That was the door to your apartment, damn it! You hadn't put any decorations in your house so you didn't expect to have any visits from children, it's not like you could buy candy for them so you walked to the door with the resignation of disappointing a couple of little ones and probably suffering some pranks.

When the door was opened… you were greeted by an empty hallway.

"Damn brats" You couldn't help but think, in the end, kids would be kids but you weren't a person to receive many unexpected visitors, that wasn't good for your poor heart.

You went back to your small room to grab your phone and check your text messages when an incoming call appeared on the screen, an unknown number.

Breathe, breathe, breathe, it's not the first time you've done this, it happens sometimes, right? Some calls when you order a package, takeout or a simple mistake in the number.

You swallowed hard before answering.

"Hello, who's speaking?" Perfect, you didn't stutter.

"…" But no one answered, in fact, if you paid attention you could hear the distant sound of breathing.

You decided not to say anything else and just hung up.

Your phone rang once again, this time accompanied by the sound of the door, no, not a knock but it being opened.

Just when you were thinking of turning around an imposing hand grabbed the back of your head and slammed it against the wall, causing an immediate nosebleed, tears of pain were not long in coming followed by pitiful whimpers as you tried to keep your eyes open to see the person responsible.

"Move and die." The voice under the mask spoke, completely dressed in black and wearing a Ghostface mask, it was a little hoarse but-…

Suddenly he pulled your hair hard, and you felt your scalp burn as you were dragged across the floor until you reached the table.

"S-STOP! IT HURTS, IT HURTS SO MUCH!" You whimpered but he didn't stop even then.

A hand came up to your throat, caressing your skin possessively as he moved up to your bleeding nose to take your blood and use it as lubricant on your pussy, that hand had black painted nails, and you recognized it.

It wasn't gentle at all, he didn't even lubricate properly due to the fear and pain you felt, he simply slid his length inside you, your body was rigid on the table, bleeding and crying on top of the wood.

"NO! NO! PLEASE! ENOUGH! SOL, I-I'M SCARED!" You begged your boyfriend.

"You only squeeze this hard when you're scared, love."

It was tearing you apart, it hurt so much, you wanted to keep screaming but once again he held your head to smash it against the table, making the bleeding worse and knocking out a tooth, you felt so dizzy and your mouth was numb from losing one of your front teeth.

You looked so perfect that the taller man moaned just by looking at you, feeling himself harden inside your pussy to pound harder into you, your flushed face was a work of art, he wanted to use your blood to paint a portrait of you, a thousand of them.

"So beautiful, so beautiful, I'm so lucky, motherfucker, I love you so much."

Instead, your limp body was being maneuvered over the table, a mix of tears, blood and saliva forming under your face.

Sol's groans increased as his climax approached, he gently held your face as he brought a small disposable camera closer to take a picture, a perfect pose where your sleepy expression was unable to focus the lens as he fucked you.

"Happy Halloween, darling."

"H-Happy Halloween, S-Sol…"

♡

[xhoneygirlxx]

We’re Not Friends

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?

warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.

*if I miss anything plz lmk*

a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.

And that's why friends should sleep in other beds

And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do

And I know that there's a limit to everything

But my friends won't love me like you do

The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.

Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.

So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.

Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.

"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.

Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.

"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.

Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.

He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.

He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.

"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."

Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.

You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.

However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.

You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.

"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.

Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.

Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."

He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.

"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.

His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.

"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.

Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."

Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.

"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.

Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.

It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.

The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.

Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.

The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.

Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.

"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.

Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.

Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.

Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"

The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.

"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.

The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.

You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.

The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.

Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.

Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.

Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.

The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.

The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.

Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.

Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.

Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.

"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.

The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.

You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.

Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.

"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.

A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.

The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.

Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.

Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."

The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.

Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."

He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.

That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.

"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.

Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.

While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.

"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.

"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"

"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.

Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.

Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.

"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.

Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.

Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."

It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.

"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."

Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.

"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."

Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.

"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.

You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.

"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."

Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.

Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.

Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.

It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.

The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.

Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.

You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.

Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.

It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.

This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.

Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?

Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.

Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.

You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.

You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.

Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.

But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.

-

Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.

On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.

While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.

You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.

Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.

"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.

You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."

Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.

"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.

Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.

Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.

Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.

"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.

"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.

The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.

Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.

A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.

God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.

Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.

The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.

"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.

You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.

Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.

"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.

"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.

"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.

In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.

The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.

It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.

Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.

Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.

It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.

The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.

You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.

You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.

Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.

Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.

Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.

This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.

"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.

His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.

Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.

Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.

"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.

Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.

Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.

"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.

A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.

"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.

Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.

"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.

"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."

Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.

Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.

Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.

"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."

"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."

Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.

The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.

"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."

Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.

"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.

Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.

Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.

"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.

The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.

A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.

You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.

All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.

The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.

To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.

So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.

Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.

You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.

He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.

Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.

You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.

"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.

"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.

Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."

That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."

Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.

Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.

You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.

He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.

"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.

Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.

Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."

"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.

"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.

"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.

Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.

The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.

"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.

His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.

"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.

Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.

"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."

It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.

"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.

"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."

You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.

"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.

His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.

You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.

"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.

"Thought you'd never ask."

thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3

-

-

-

[stllmnstr]

sacred monsters [teaser!]

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

teaser word count: 1.7k

teaser warnings: swearing

release date: saturday, august 3, 10 PM EST

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

note: this fic is my BABYYY so I really hope it’s well received and you all have a good time with it. it’s probably no surprise that still monster is one of my absolute favorite enha songs, and this story is essentially (my interpretation of) it in written form. this is going to be a multi-part story, and as of right now, the first part is almost ready to share. for now, enjoy this snippet!

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Crossing a dark line through the word you just penned, you sigh. 

This is the fastest you’ve put a story together in ages. It’s cohesive, and the writing is solid. Your use of metaphor is strong and concise, and the prose feels true to your identity as a writer. 

But something in you withers a bit with every new word you commit to paper. It’s not that you hate your topic. If anything, it’s just that you have no stake in it at all. It doesn't feel innovative or exciting or representative of your creativity. 

No matter how easily the words flow out of you, something about it just feels… flat. One dimensional. 

You need something new. A different angle or an alternative perspective or… Or a fresh set of eyes. 

Struck with a sudden idea, you pull out your phone, plan taking form in your mind. The literature club at your university hosts bimonthly peer review sessions, and you haven’t taken advantage of them nearly as much as you should. They’re a chance for any writer, literature major or otherwise, to come together and workshop any piece of writing of their choice. 

Tapping your finger impatiently on the table, you wait for the page to load. The fall semester did end almost a week ago, so it may be a long shot. You’re not sure if the club typically holds sessions over winter break. But as you pull up the club’s calendar of events, a small smile tugs at your lips. 

Luck seems to be on your side this time. It’s written there in plain, bold font that there will be a session this upcoming Friday evening. That means that if you attend the session and get some solid ideas for revision, you’ll have exactly five days to refine your draft before you present it to Professor Kim. 

The idea of having not only a topic, as the schedule outlined, but an actual complete,  well-written draft to show him next Wednesday, turns your small smile into one that overtakes your features. 

Energized with a new vigor, you reach for your pen again. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you remind yourself, even as a turn of phrase makes you cringe. Even as a piece of punctuation feels out of place. It just needs to be written. You just need to have as much content as you can to share on Friday. 

Besides, you’re sure that a second opinion will help you fine tune this story into something you’re proud to share, something you’re excited to attach your name to.

The afternoon is quick to blur into early evening, and you’re still bent over your favorite corner table. Coffee long drained, you’re full of a new confidence. The thought of proving yourself suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unachievable, out of reach task. 

And when you do finally gather up all of your belongings and make your way back to your apartment for the night, you’re sure that this is the exact boost you needed. 

That same stroke of self-assuredness carries you all the way through a finished first draft. It’s rough and messy and littered with loose ends, but it’s tucked away in the bottom of your tote bag with a smile as you haul it to classroom number 105 in the university liberal arts building Friday evening. 

You pause at the door to the classroom, only for a moment. The inhale you breathe in is deep, full. Nodding to yourself once, you push open the door. 

You haven’t been to one of these workshop sessions since the second semester of your first year, back when you had just switched to a literature major. You remember being wide-eyed and incredibly protective over your work. It was hard to part with it, to let anyone else read over the sentences you were so unsure of. The writing you had little confidence in. 

But your partner had been kind. Another girl in her first year, she had nothing but gentle feedback to give and reassurance that your writing was worth reading. Honestly, it was such an overwhelmingly positive experience that you would have come back for more sessions if you weren’t constantly struggling to find minutes to spare in the day. 

You’re hoping that tonight will be just as rewarding as you enter the classroom, tote bag in tow. But as you survey the space around you, your face falls flat, easy going smile dropping from your lips. 

You weren’t expecting a big crowd, considering that it is winter break and most students are deliberately avoiding campus right now, but you were hoping there’d be more than one other person in attendance. 

Well, you think, deciding to look on the bright side of things. At least you’re not the only person. 

The other attendee is sitting in the far corner of the room, occupying a desk near the front of the classroom. At the sound of your entrance, they turn to face you. 

With that, your small disappointment is quick to snowball into an intense wave of exasperation. Because why is the universe so hellbent on playing games with you?

Your mouth drops open without your permission. “Heeseung?” 

Your sudden outburst fills the room and lingers long into the awkward silence that follows. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but really, what are the god forsaken odds?

If he’s bothered by your reaction to seeing him, Heeseung doesn’t show it. Instead he looks strangely… relieved. It makes absolutely no sense for him to feel any sort of relief at the sight of you, but it’s hard to put a more apt descriptor to the way tension drains from his shoulders, crease between his brows softening as he looks at you, scans you from head to toe. 

A moment of stilted silence passes between the two of you. Another. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest.

You exhale, a cross between a scoff and a laugh so humorless it could freeze a flame. Weighing your options, the most tempting by far is to just turn on your heel and exit the way you came. 

Heesung seems to read your intention before you can commit to it. 

Breaking the heaviness in the atmosphere, he acts as if you’ve greeted him like an old friend, not as the source of all your recent headaches. 

“Hi,” he nods, so tentatively you almost want to let your jaw drop open in shock. Almost. 

Because what the fuck does he mean by ‘Hi?’ This has to be some kind of mind game, some way to get in your head and ruin this for you. 

“Right.” Your lips pull into a tight line. You don’t bother to return his greeting. “I’m just gonna go, then.” Hiking up your bag on your shoulder, you turn to do just that. Your first draft will just have to be unpolished. Oh, well. You’re sure Professor Kim will have better feedback for you than Lee Heeseung ever would anyway. 

Once again, Heeseung’s voice cuts across the classroom. “Wait.” There’s a command in his voice. Gentle, but firm. Insistent. So pervasive that you find yourself following without really meaning to. 

Mind made up and dead set on leaving, now you’re just annoyed. What a waste of a Friday evening.

“What?” You turn back to him. You’re not sure if there’s more venom in your voice or your eyes. 

And Heeseung, who commands a classroom with quiet grace, with his steady, unwavering presence, suddenly looks so damn unsure. As if tormenting you is uncharted territory. As if he’s never once left you in the cold with flaming cheeks and a thoroughly shattered ego. 

“I…” he trails off, not quite meeting your furious gaze. “Didn’t you come here to get feedback?”

“Right.” You scoff again. “Because I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to tear my writing to shreds. Forgive me, but I’m not interested in being the butt end of your joke tonight.”

“What?” If you didn’t know any better, the ignorance he feigns would be rather convincing. “That’s not why I’m here.” He shakes his head. “I brought something I want reviewed too.” 

Your brow arches. He can’t be serious. “Even if I did stay,” you counter, “you’re actually the last person I would want to read my work. Feel free to be offended by that, by the way.”

For a solid minute, Heeseung just looks at you. He wears that same damn deer-in-the-headlights expression he had after you brushed him off when he intercepted you in class the other day. He pauses, weighing words on his tongue. “Look, ____.” The sound of your name on his lips strikes a strange chord in you. Until now, you were certain he didn’t even know it. “Did I do something to offend—”

And no. Absolutely not. No way are you rehashing that day in the quad with him now. 

“You know what,” you interrupt. You need to go. Now. You need an out. “I’m actually, like, super tired. I think I’m just gonna head back, and—”

But then it’s his turn to cut off your train of thought. “It’s your piece for Professor Kim, isn’t it?” Heeseung takes your silence as confirmation. “Publishing is a big deal. A second set of eyes will only make your work stronger. And if you hate my feedback, it’s not like you have to use any of it.”

You hate it. You despise the way his reasoning matches your internal monologue nearly word for word. The way your thoughts align exactly. 

You pause, a decision weighing heavy on your mind. He is an excellent writer… There would probably be substance to his feedback. Real, actual, good substance that you could use to make your writing bloom into something truly amazing. He could be the exact spark you need to make your story come to life. 

You purse your lips. “What’s in it for you?”

Heesung smiles, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips. He knows he’s won. “Like I said, I brought something I’ve been working on.” There’s an intention you can’t quite read behind his gaze when he adds, “I want to know what you think of it.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

With a grumble, you take reluctant steps towards where he sits on the opposite side of the classroom. And if you slide down into the seat next to him with a little more force than necessary, well, it’s just because you’ve had a long week. No other reason. None at all. 

“Fine,” you relent, reaching to pull your notebook out of your bag. “You get twenty minutes.”

“That’s not nearly long eno—”

“Thirty,” you concede. “And don’t push it.”

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

TO BE CONTINUED...

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

note: thanks for checking out this little snippet! I can't wait to share the full first part soon. this one is going to be so much fun I'm buzzing already. I don't have a tag list, but I will most likely update this post and reblog it once I have a confirmed release date. like I said in the note at the beginning, I'm anticipating it will be ready to go by this sunday (august 4 EST) at the latest. woo!

[meraki-sunset]

having a hard time explaining grimdark and trickster to a friend

think you can help?

they get godtier just fine but the other two keep confusing them because right now they think

grimdark = chaos in anarchy sense, but trickster = chaos in haha funny meme sense

Sure, let me see…

GRIMDARK mode is described by Doc scratch as “going completely off the deep end in every way”.

It turns your skin an unnatural dark gray, and in rose’s case to be surrounded by a dark aura, while jade had a spacey green aura.

It’s basically a black magic power up deeply connected to the horroterrors, a state of mind that comes from letting them influence a broken mind. For Rose, it was the death of her mother, and then trying to reveal the horror terror’s secrets. For Jade, she was heartbroken, but also she got mind controlled into entering the grimdark state by the condesce, who is also connected to the horrorterrors.

As an extra, Hussie described Eridan as also going into grimdark when he began murdering people, tho his case must’ve been more symbolical, as he presented the perfect scenario to become grimdark, the complete loss of hope, waiting for Jack to kill them all (due to his title being prince of hope, ergo Destroyer of hope) added to Feferi breaking their moiraliance talking with Sollux, being the detonator for his broken mind, and him being a Derse player, so his dream self was around the horroterrors and had interacted with them prior, he was also interested in magic like rose, had a wand just like her and sought for answers about, like her. He just lacked the connection to the horroterrors in that crucial moment.

So Grimdark is basically when the horroterrors cause the player's most primal and violent tendencies to be pushed to the forefront

The grimdark is also described a “the fabled blackdeath trance of the woegothics”. So a dark trance that people like Rose and Eridan are inclined to fall victim of (in my opinion)

TRICKSTER mode, in the other hand, is described by Calliope as something that brings out your full potential, that brings all your walls down and puts all your inner thoughts in the outside and all your creative power in your hands. It strips you from all social and mental barrier.

It gives you reality altering Powers, allowing you to jump from place to place, probably dimension hopping, manifest objects and makes you super happy and candy colored to the point of losing grip in reality

The problem is that cherubs are very different from humans. For a cherub, who is supposed to fly around in the endless space protecting/destroying a certain part of the void, and its inhabited planets, feeding of black holes, fighting entities to death to ultimately mate in the shape of a big ass snake, a juju that’s basically drugs that can make you forget every wall you built up floating around space alone, and move forward as a happy missile ready to find a mate sounds good. But humans are social creatures, and cherubs are not. Cherubs don’t answer to anyone and don’t have Friends, they don’t need to follow any social cues. Humans built their relationships carefully, and they have secrets and barriers to protect themselves and others. They hide things like crushes and resentment and problems, because well, for the sake of peace, for the sake of not braking every relationship they have. That’s something that Calliope and Caliborn never fully grasped and understood why the kids came to hate the juju when they woke up

So that’s all I could gather. Essentially they are different kinds of power ups, opposite to one another at their core, BUT in both the person isn’t fully there and is being guided by primal instincts, be it rage/sadness or Hope/happiness and they both have consequences in the user because neither is supposed to be used on humans or even trolls.

[pvnks0ul]

me and mrs. wolf (18+)

❊ werewolf/shifter!riri x fem!reader

sypnosis: Riri ends up having to find a creative way to keep you warm during your first camping trip together, you get more than you bargained for.

⚠︎: little plot ⁴ 🌽, kinda terotaphilia¿¿, mentions of hunting & eating wild deer(sry), dirty talk, readers really fucking cold, dom!riri + sub!reader, enlarged clit/girldick, several rounds, use of *mommy* + breeding kink, married au, amateur writing ! + bad descriptions of camping cause im js not built for that lifestyle!!

a/n: this was originally based off that one twilight scene (iykyk🧛🏾‍♀️) but shit really do be happening...🥲

There was no denying the early morning view when you'd first arrived. Selfoss was..beautiful, without a doubt one of the most Ethereal landscapes you'd ever seen but no amount of breathtakingly clear skies or eye watering fields of perfect green grasslands would ever be worth catching pneumonia in the booty hole. You didnt know how much longer you could take before calling it quits and ditching to whatever was closest to a ' 4 seasons round here—quite honestly you were probably already there.

The fire outside endlessly crackled, only reason for it not being put out was because Riri wanted to keep it burning so she could surprise you with dinner. The problem being she waited till the sun had already set to go hunting... Was it obvious she did not have the privilege of cooking very often?

You watched the blurred flames quiver and roar from behind the tents sheeted walls as your teeth clattered at an alarming rate, limbs shivering so hard you'd began jolting randomly to make sure you'd still had control over your own body. But you honestly wouldnt be surprised if they'd all just froze and fell off right about now.

You tried to roll closer to the side nearest of the fire but it's distant warmth only baited you to come outside and embrace it.

And you were so close to giving in if only the sun hadnt already went down, the light from the full moon only something dim compared to the dark forests surrounding you. Riri'd originally asked if you wanted to come with but truthfully your legs were already tired from gathering all the sticks for the pit. The relief she felt when you said you werent feeling up to the chase, especially since you wouldnt be of much help anyways, didn't go unnoticed.

So the agreement was, you'd stay in the tent where she felt you were safest and she'd go hunt alone. A very simple and easy task.

You sat up on the thick foambedding Riri had laid ontop of the built in matt so you wouldnt be laying completely on the ground. And although stocky, the comforter did little to protect you from the chilly air, you had on both your winter coats and one of Riris leather jackets underneath but it was clear no amount of layering would save you— or atleast not with the clothes you'd packed.

you smacked your forehead multiple times over like that would help as you cursed yourself for not going with her. You probably could've convinced Riri to carry you around on her back, if you had.

You poked your head out of the tent and it was nearly pitch black outside, now. The firepit lit up the inside of the empty but tiny lot, just enough to see a few trees surrounding.

The wind blew once more and your ears were starting to burn slightly from how cold it was, even with your beanie on.

By the time your brain had registered what you were thinking about doing, you'd already gotten up & were planting yourself on one of the logs that assisted as chairs. Gloved hands reached out to the fire and only then could you finally feel the slightest umpth of warmth.

You don't get to enjoy the heat for long when a snap of a branch comes from your left, pass the entrance of the camping site and you freeze in place. You try to write it off. You had to remember you were literally in the middle of a forest, it was a given that some wild life would lerk about— and you tried hard to convince yourself that's all it was.

It comes again but dangerously close and your hands drop to your sides faster than your heart to the pit of your stomach, your eyes are wide open, you weren't sure if you were prey but you weren't going to stick around to find out and before the third one can come you've already dashed it back to the little pavilion.

Zipping it up as quickly as you could with shaky hands & thick gloves, covering yourself in the comforter as a shield from whatever could be coming incase it followed you in.

Your breath hitches in your throat as the footsteps near and all you can think about was how much you wished Riri was here to protect you.

The soft thud of something weighty being dropped near your tent makes you jump and freeze out of pure unbridled fear. You have yet to blink, irises shaking and again you feel stupid because the only thing you had to defend yourself with was a lousy clothespin in the front pocket of Riris jacket.

The familiar sound the zipper sliding down sends shivers down your spine and you clutch the small needle tighter, at least you'd be going down with a fight albeit not alot.

You're too scared to even move an inch when you feel a fluffy but ice cold touch on your shoulder. You yelped, moving to a crouch as you held your clothespin infront of yourself.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Riris voice booms & vibrates against you. You can tell she's holding back a laugh by the condescending tone.

You squirm in her grip, trying to turn around in her strong arms,disbelief written all over your face, "You scared me!" you reply with a huff before hitting her hard chest, "Why didnt you say anything when you saw me running?"

"Cause I like the way you run off when you know you're not supposed to be doing something." She chuckles before kissing the side of your face, "Like doing the exact opposite of what was asked when I–"

"Ok, yeah, i get it, damn." you huff and drop your head at the lecture only for her to lift your chin so she can look you in the eye.

She pecks your cheek with chapped lips, forgetting what she was gonna say. Leading you to scoff when she releases her firm grip so she could remove her fuzzy noggin, “But...you were taking too long and i was freezinggg in here."

Riri quirks a brow, smirk festering to the surface, "I took not even 15 minutes."

You smack your teeth at her excuse, "you wouldn't understand." she laughs bolsteriusly, all whites showing as she tosses the hat to the side before seating herself against the back of the tent.

Riri pats the area beside her, "C'mere."

You crawl over to your wife, very tempted to climb into her lap but opting to just let yourself be enveloped when she wrapped her arms around you.

"Fifteen minutes feels more like forty-five when you're dying of frost-bite." you mumbled still not over it yet, snuggling into her, hogging her warmth for yourself.

"Mhmm.." she sighs. She knows that technically human bodies are much more vulnerable than one of her... stature but she also knows when her wife is being dramatic. Her hands rub up and down your back, earning a satisfied hum in response.

Your legs were stretched under you as her thumbs stroke at your cheeks, leaving goosebumps in their wake from how hot they were and it seems the both of you completely forgot about dinner.

She snorts at you before blowing air, "Well, I'll tell you what..If you miraculously manage to make it through the night, I'll get you the finest suite money can buy– in one of those what'd you call if? 4 springs? Gonna get you some proper breakfast and—"

"Mmm, thank god." You quipped before she could finish.

Riri smacks her teeth gathering you at the same time. "Yeah Anyway...all you'll have to do is sit pretty in bed and let me spoil you since you were willing to do this for me." she replies behind a smile before landing a fat peck to your temple, you moan approvingly, nodding as you clutched her shirt in your fist.

"I don't think you understand how much i appreciate it." You lift your head after a few seconds passed and she didnt let go only to find hungry dark orbs staring back at you, falling to your parted lips and then back up. Heat rushes to your face as you look anywhere but at her, "I- I do." an odd burning sensation sets in your core racing all the way up to your tummy.

"Yeah? I bet you still want me to show you though, huh?"

Riri wonders if it'd be selfish to have you right here and now, with how frozen to the touch you were just a second ago.

You grab at her arm, that doting look in your eye that you get when you're too shy under her gaze to speak your mind and she hastly decides it's not. That infact, the little action she's seeking would be helping you in the end.

So she drops her arms from around your body, shaking her jacket off and quickly undoing your puffy winter coats.

She pushes you onto your back without a word. You make sure your silence isnt mistaken for no, helping her in her mission to unbutton the first layers of jackets and slide them away.

Riri bellows at this. You always looked so pretty under her and it was a sight she'd never want to forget. She wastes no time climbing over you, straddling your thighs between her spread legs and leaning down to help.

She doesnt even need to survey once, rough hands just pulling and popping the zippers on the last few, "Ah–! Hey-" Riri brings her lips to yours in a means to shush you but she can't stop herself from the wantonly aura that read it was her who wanted more, her thumbs fumbling with the end of your shirt before yanking it up & over your bra. She grunts into your kiss a subtle, "Shut up, you won't even need them."

Your eyes flutter shut as you arch into her and there's no further argument. Just you kissing back with just as much fervor now, your hands grabbing the back of her neck and holding her closer. Riris hard fingernails scrape against your stomach as they made their way up to your breast, she fondles you gently through the fabric, circling her thumb in search of your nipple and pinching it between her index when she finds it.

You whimper into her mouth desperate for more but all she responds with is before doing the same to the other breast and pulling your bra down under the cusps of them once they'd pebbled hard enough.

She leaves you with a sweet kiss, then a peck that has you blindly chasing after her but you can't get far with the way she holds you down. You whine, bucking your hips up mindlessy absolutely desperate for any kind of friction. What you find in it's place takes you by surprise. You gasp before feeling at the bulge in her pants. Riri tenses on the spot, cursing under her breath before grinding into your palm.

"You brought your strap all the way out here, Ri?" you giggle while tugging on the tent in her pants.

Riri shakes her head, "No, I–!" she shudders when your hand moves even just a little bit, "No. It's all me." your eyes widen at her words.

You're immediately curious, feeling her up through her pants. Your fingertips going over her print and it's long, the thickest you've ever attempted to wrap your hands around. Your hands move lower and riri twitches up again. Right between a familiar set of puffy lips is where it sprouted and you're still a little in disbelief.

Riri holds your wrist in place, guiding it up and back down to the curved base. You can feel her hardening under your touch and it's oh so surreal. After a few more strokes you're already huffing under her, pupils pitch black & fully blown and she knows you're getting just as worked up.

And the shock of it all is not what you choose to focus on, if Riri says it's all her then you believe her. But that also means she must feel so suffocated in her tight-fitting boxers.

The first time you tried to move your hands away to pull at her pants, your reprimanded immediately. She takes it upon herself to push your wrists over your head, holding them in one hand, her extended claws were sharp and marking the skin just a little.

"Need t-to know if i can fuck you..." she whispers directly into your ear, your thighs clench beneath her at the blatant vulgarity.

Your words were caught in your throat in the middle of all of this. Riri takes advantage it, kissing over that side of your face multiple times before making her way to your neck, you gasp, opening your legs mindlessly and Riris already centering her bulge in the middle of your covered achy lips.

She whimpers because of how sensitive you managed to make her, abusing your swollen clit through damp fabric, frantic for a release and she needs to know if you're ready now more than ever.

Riri holds onto the back of your thighs, rolling her hips "Please.." she begs for what seems to be the first time, big brown eyes darting everywhere on your face, bursting with impatience, she felt like she was going to throb herself into a slow release.

You nod your head quickly, she could have whatever she wanted from you right now. Riri sighs before releasing your hands and you already know not to move them.

Riris anxious fingers fumble around for your leggings, tugging and tossing them to the side somewhere.

Your scent is strong and it takes over her senses completely, she almost puts her own needs aside just for a taste, an you can see the complexity in the pinch of her brows as her figure loomed overtop of you.

Evidently she made up her mind as the pads of her fingers now slid down to the edge of your panties and you can see her physically fighting the animalistic urge to rip them off of you. She utilizes her middle & ring, roughly dragging them to your ankle, letting you kick them off before she dips them lightly between your sticky lips, you hiss, giving it your all to not shut your legs around her fingers as she enjoyed the slick.

She decides it was enough with the waiting, you clearly needed this just as bad as her. Riri unbuckles her cargos, sliding off her boxers aswell.

Small desperate pants slip past your lips at the sight of your wife, taking in her muscular form but, what really captures your eye is the pretty little trimmed patch of curly hair sprawled down her abs. Your hands have a mind of their own as you grab her hips with one and claw at her toned tummy to her sport bra with the other.

She bites down on her bottom lip before swatting at you, "Fuck– Alright baby..." she speaks as she collects your wrists in one of her hands... again. She maneuvers your legs up to your chest, so she could appraise your gaping hole; so patiently awaiting her arrival.

Riris holds the tip of her erect clit in her hand, bringing it over yours and rubbing it in the wad of spit she just landed there, letting you grind up as you pleased till she had to go back down.

"Oww– huuh, ohh!" You whimper out the first words you'd spoken since she started this whole thing as she smoothly inches her way pass your entrance. Riri herself, is left hissing when she finally breaks through the ring, grazing each side of your walls effortlessly.

Your head tilts back upon entry, mind going blank as you grasped the comforter under you, needing something to keep you afloat. You're suffocating her and she's barely had a taste. she pushes further until your pelvics meet, bottoming out in one strained push.

"G–god damn." Her clit throbs inside of you, giving you more to stretch around in case you were becoming too accustomed with it the first time.

Riri murmurs more curse words under her breath from the way you clenched and halted her in place when she attempts to move. Only wanting to set a slow but satisfying rhythm to get you both used to the other.

She holds you down with one hand to your waist, pulling out to the rim of your pussy and then slamming back in. She moans louder, getting loss in the immediate pulsing of your gooey walls.

"Yes, Riri~–!" Your eyes roll as she starts to pick up the pace, fucking you harder into the matt. Not even her biggest faux piece had made you feel this full— you want some more and right now.

Her labia kisses yours as she digs deeper into you, strings of your arousal mixing with her own. "Fuck y/n." she whispers your name behind an exasperated grunt, pounding into you harshly as she held onto your waist.

Your face feels like it's on fire and your belly is rapidily turning, you were right on the cusp of an orgasm and too fucked out to warn her.

Yet you tried. You tried jerking on her clit to still her movements. But it only excites her more. She growls in response, "Mmmn—!" slapping your breast and biting her lip till she could taste iron when it bounced, ignoring your yelp completely, "Keep pulling on my shit, baby."

It grows again, the heads vibrating as your pussy adjusted around it and if it weren't for the constant sloshing from the mix of both of your releases against the other, you probably would've heard the humming.

You cry out at the stretch, pushing at her lower stomach to slow down but she simply smacks at your hands, "Nah, this is what she wants– look how she takes me. Don't be greedy, babygirl." Riri taunts referring to the loud squelch of your pussy every time she thrusted just a bit.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she shook the whole damn mat, "Riri—! I can't—" you try to fixate on the place where your body met hers, clenching around her again, throwing her off balance and she gives up on the steady strokes, "Gonna nmph—! Fucking fill you deep if you do that shit again, Mhmm.." She starts pistoling her hips into you, sloppily creating a dripping mess between your bodies, "..make you have all my babies."

You probably looked like a googly eyed fool with the way they rolled to the back of your head at her rambling, you want it all so bad, you felt delirious.

Your legs lock around her hips as you moaned out a chant of her name, clamping down on her clit with a deadly vice and her head falls back instantly, she lets you have it. Riri holds your lower stomach with her palm, hips stuttering as she ruts against you, desperately using you to empty all her nut into.

The silky straws of her cum are so warm and it makes you have an explosion on your own, your cream gushing and mixing with hers, leaking out of your pussy straight down onto the flat bed because that's you were too stuffed to keep any of it in.

And eventually all of the thick liquid combined slowly pushes her out completely.

Riri looks down to find her clit twitching, absolutely drenched in cum—she's not sure who's– still dripping from the ring formed near the base and that was surely your work.

She gets more aroused at the thought. Rubbing at your sensitive inner–thigh, ready for another round and apparently you were too by how they ease open for her.

"Can you give me a color baby?" fingers moving up to your silk-covered folds.

You blink slowly at her, nodding as you grabbed at the wrist of her curious fingers, "g–green.."

Riri bobs her head, trying not to let her smirk suffice. You're shaking, still on the cusp and yet you want more? what a slut. she hides it by kissing all over your face, making you whine when she got everywhere but your lips.

Your arms are quick to wrap and lock around her neck, pulling her down to you and Riri has to stifle a laugh at how desperate you were acting. Knowing she can't go on long when trying to resist you, she let's you win this battle.

This kiss was different then the first, you had her by the little strands of her neck hair, moaning into the hot kiss when she bit down on your lip, your mouth opens, accepting her tongue and you can feel her shaft poking and twitching with want against your lower stomach as she licked & searched every bit of it..

This kiss was messy & frantic, something that described the both of you to a tee in the exact moment.

Riri growls again, muffled but it still makes your head spin. You arch your back into her, the bottom of her clit rubbing ontop of your own and you have no choice but to leave the kiss, your head falling back in defeat as she kept rolling her pelvic against you.

"Ri! Wait, please–! just wait!" You were gonna cum if she kept going and hard, your body wouldn't have been ready for that yet.

You're flanking against each rushed thrust, as she panted heavily, "shit!shit!shit!" grunting lowly but with your constant running the satisfaction wouldn't be the same.

So Riri stops, she unravels your arms from around her body and sits back on her knees, "Come ride me." she bids, eager to have you all over again while licking at her lips, moist with your spit and cherry balm.

Your mouth gapes open as you stared at her. She purposely moved to the opposite end, knowing you would struggle to make it over there. Ri sits flat down on the mat now, her legs spread and clit swaying proudly over her lap and all you can do is bat your lashes pathetically.

You felt as if you were glued to the bedding with the way you body refused to move. Riris mean– she's so mean when she laughs at you. Shaking her head and crawling back over to you on her knees.

She stays silent as she pulls you into her chest before maneuvering your body the other way around. She pushes you roughly back down into the sheets, "Since you don't wanna listen."

Your brows raise for the first time as you weakly held yourself up on your elbows. You almost speak up but you're interrupted by the sound of a loud moan when she enters you again, moving without giving you a chance to adjust.

"Never gonna be able forget what this pussy feel like, baby." she murmurs softly despite her hard & cruelly plodding pace.

Her hands dig back into their designated slots on your waist and you drop your head, admittedly liking the harsh way she fucked and used your body for her own selfish needs. "Feel so good!" you mumble drunkenly.

The outburst earns you a slap to the round of your ass. You yelp, pulling off to the tip of her clit. "Eugnh! Fuck!" Sticking your back out, approvingly.

"Who told your ass to move?" she growls while roughly yanking you back to her mound, you mutter a meak apology that means nothing to riri as she clenched her teeth, watching you make a mess of her clit. She plays with the globes of your ass, spreading them pleasantly as you formed an unnatural arch trying to push back into her, feening for it.

"Yeah, baby? You like this position, huh? Dirty girl."

You only nod but riri corrects you, a crackle hits the air when she drops her open palm on your ass again, "Talk back to me."

You whine, arms giving out and slumping down to just your elbows, "f-fuck yes, mommy!"

Riri coos before slapping your ass again right in the middle as she snapped her hips, "You want it faster? Huh?"

You moan, "Yeah–!"

"Work for it then." riri sighs out cooly while stopping immediately against you.

Your knees shake pathetically as you immediately try. You throw it back for the first time, just tightening around her and hoping it'd be enough.

Riri squeezes the flesh of your ass in her hand in return having you curl into yourself at the satisfying burn, she bumps you against her until you were able to fuck yourself off her.

"See– shit! You know what you're doing baby."

Riri catches what you throw, grunting dirty pleasures into your sweaty neck, as you led her closer to a final climax.

"My good girl..Damn.", "Fuck, look how you working this shit."

You were brought to the final straw when she brought her hands under your body, pushing her way into your sloppy folds so she could rub at your small clit and ease your nerves. It jolts you again, but you don't run this time, just grinding down into it. You're sure to alert her though. An ear shattering, "M'gonna cum so hard mommy shiiit!"

"And mommy really wants your cum, pretty." She fucks you harsher, pulling you back and forth on her clit so hard you were gasping out at each one, the head tickling your cervix and pushing you further into your orgasm. "C'mon then."

"Ahh! Oh! M'gonna–so close shitghh–!"

Your orgasm racks through your body hard, you can't even keep up with riris strokes, letting her fuck you through your high and then you're clawing at your pillows tryin to get away. She keeps going until her hips stutter into an climax, exploding and pounding it into your coated walls until the high had escaped her.

You cry out finally sliding off her piece and closing your eyes, thighs still shaking just a bit as you went through the motions all over again. Your stomachs twisting and pulling and you dont even feel like turning around the right way– just wanting to catch your breath.

You're trembling slightly when her eyes set back on you, she can tell you're not all the way back yet. She moves between your legs to rub at your thigh and she finds it burning to the touch, problem solved, she smirks proudly.

Riri sits on the same log you had, the muscles in her biceps bulge as she grips the buck by its front and back legs, laying it flat with a thud much louder than before, using her extracted nails to get rid of the rope she tied it's ankles with in one simple swipe.

When you finally come to and realize she's not by your side, you're immediately jolting up, thinking she left you again. You're quick to take notice of the thick comforter keeping you tucked in. It still hurt to move, your body was so sore but you were more determined to go find Riri.

You toss the blanket over, revealing a fresh set of the aforementioned girls sweatpants snug on your legs and you can't seem to remember how you even got then on.

you groan obnoxiously, lifting yourself up to properly rub the sleep out of your eyes, "Riri!?" your voice was hoarse from *the possible* hours before.

You hear a faint "outside!" and have already kicked into your winter boots. And Riri doesn't need an announcement of your presence, she can feel you idling close by and pats her thigh, you gladly squeeze your way into her bulging arms, wrapping your own around her waist but under her puffer so you could steal some of her body heat.

Riri gets side tracked once again, with your weight ontop of hers, completely forgetting about dinner for a split second as she wraps her arms around you and hoists you further into her lap, her head falling comfortably ontop of your chest while your arms become a cloak around her neck.

She breathes in your scent a little and goosebumps are sprouting under the thick garments now, "Don't you wanna know what happened?"

"mhmn." you shrug your shoulders, you weren't really sure at all, mind still hazy and too busy dozing off in her arms. She was naturally very warm & cozy, almost like a living teddy especially when wearing the fluffy coat you got her and your thoughts becoming pinkish brown mush, vision slowly becoming black dots filling in a canvas as you pressed tighter into her hold, were evidence of that.

The doe-like fluttering of your lashes has her stumped, she's not going to make you stay up since it was her fault you were so worn out in the first place but, she was going to make sure you ate first.

Apparently, you ended up falling asleep against her somewhere down that line anyways because when you next open your eyes, its with a tubberware bowl full of some sweet smelling soup in her lap and a silver utensil, pokin your lip. You furrow your brows, still not all the way up yet and Riri chuckles, "Try it. It'll warm you up a little bit more."

You happily encourage her spoonfeeding it to you after this sliver of information, humming at the unique taste once it hits you. How she was able to skin and gut that deer with you in her arms the entire time, still unbeknownst to you.

This was supposed to be for Halloween but.. Well, I'll think of an excuse & comeback later 😚

🔖: @sapphicbarbz @shurislover @s0lam33y

(ty @lppriceisright for proof reading another fic for me!)

[toxicanonymity]

a day in the filth

2.7k | brat tamer!joel x f!reader | master

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. He puts the phone down and the screen shows his office ceiling while you hear his belt unfasten and his zipper.  You’re weak from  overstimulation . . .when he picks the phone up again, his face is twisted with need. 

SUMMARY: ONE SHOT. NO plot. NO character dev. Just 24 hours of being ruined by Joel in multiple ways and holes. Filth from the first sentence to the last. Asks/Anons: plugging, IRL Joel, dad's worst enemy. Can stand alone but I pictured daddy!Joel.

WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (legal), grumpy brat tamer joel, use of “daddy,”  use of pet names, breeding, unsafe P in V, vaginal plugging, toy, overstimulation, crying, a little anal, semi-public and public masturbation, he's a little rough,  mean, nasty, lots of degradation, including stretching and breeding related & more, tries to make you eat your veggies. taking creative liberties with toys and ruination. another possibly ridic line sry. NO USE OF Y/N.

-----------

Joel’s hips slam into you one last time in the mating press and you moan his name as he begins to pulse inside.  The rhythmic swell of his cock against your walls sets off aftershocks and you whimper. He sighs, “There ya go, baby” and finishes emptying himself as deep into you as possible.   Then he grabs your chin in his hand.  “What do you say?”

“Thank you, Daddy.” 

It's almost bedtime, and you can barely keep your eyes open. He puts two pillows under your ass then carefully pulls out. “How long do I have to stay like this” you ask, wanting to curl up and go to sleep. 

“What’d you say?”

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

He glares at you. “What do you think my answer is?”

“Until you say.”

“That’s right. But ya know what? Do what ya want tonight. I’m goin’ out.”

“Without me?”

"Too many men." He tucks himself into his boxers and begins to pull up his pants. "least now you won't be lyin' around cryin' for my cock the whole time."

He doesn’t say another word.  He gets ready and leaves. He comes back later and puts a black bag in the nightstand before he takes off his clothes and gets in bed.  

“Are you mad?” you ask, surprised he's not fucking you again. 

“Just tired.” 

—------

In the morning, you wake up to the sound of Joel rummaging in the bag in his nightstand.  You think maybe he’s gonna use a new toy on you, but when he gets between your legs, he isn’t holding anything.  He scoots you to the edge of the bed, up near the pillows and nightstand. 

He stands facing the bed, then dips his knees enough to hover over your stomach and lets his massive morning wood hang heavily onto your mound. He backs up an inch and it grazes your clit.  He kneels on the floor between your legs and kisses your cunt, massaging your breasts until you're dripping wet.  Then he gets up, braces an arm on the bed, notches his tip at your entrance, and shoves into you with a sigh. "Mornin', baby," he says as your bodies are flush. 

"Morning, Daddy."  You wrap your legs around him and he pounds you, grunting and sighing. He's in a better mood this morning, and he's fucking you good. You wonder what he did last night but know better than to ask. He buries his length in you completely each time. You writhe and moan under him. He latches onto your neck, bottoms out, and grinds against you with small movements, moaning "Mmmm" into your skin.

"Give it to me baby," he says into your neck. “Choke it and I’ll fill ya up.” He backs up, thrusts into you hard, and you see stars, clenching around him. He takes your thighs in his hands, holding them up as he continues to fuck you through your climax.  With your walls hugging and spasming around his wood, he sighs loudly and lets himself come, slightly lifting your hips off the bed as he fills you up.

Without pulling out, Joel reaches into the nightstand. He unsnaps a bottle of lube and returns with a bulbous silicone toy, glistening at one end. “Gonna plug you up now.”

He slowly pulls out, careful not to spill any cum.  When some trickles out, he pushes it back in with his cock then resumes his gradual exit.  As soon as he’s out, you feel the cool silicone tip at your entrance then he pushes it into you.  You feel full, but not as full as his cock. 

"Too easy,” he mutters. “Hope it’s big enough to stay..” Your face burns.  “got ya all stretched out.” He’s getting you horny again already. “Shoulda gotten the big daddy size, huh?” He tucks his cock into his boxers. "Forgot how bad I ruin ya."

He rolls you over and smacks your ass. “you’re gonna keep that inside.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“If it leaks, you lemme know, babydoll.”

“I will. How long do I. . ." You change your mind and trail off.

“God damnit. How long am I gonna say, baby?”

“Until you say”

“‘til I take it out myself.”

—-----------

Joel leaves for work.  You go downstairs to have breakfast and watch tv.  In certain positions, the plug nudges your g-spot and drives you crazy.  You want to do some reading, but It’s impossible to concentrate on anything. 

You impulsively text him, “Can I please take it out? I’ll lie down instead” then think better of it and immediately unsend the message. 

Joel responds, “What did you unsend you brat.”

"Nothing. Miss u"

“You leaking? Put some panties on and keep your snail trail off my sofa.”

“No”

“Then what is it”

You don’t answer.  You lie down on the sofa, sleepy enough to take a nap already. He says “?” then, “Last chance.” 

A few seconds later, the plug vibrates violently inside you, jolting you up with your chest pounding.  

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper. You sit there not doing anything at all, just breathing, thinking about Joel, and soon enough it has you on the edge.  You lick your fingers, lay back, and bring your hand to your clit and rub yourself for relief. “Oh god,” you whisper to no one, then you come.  But the toy doesn’t turn off.  

You whine with the overstimulation then get a video call from Joel. 

He’s in his corner office with his glasses on. 

“Please, daddy, I already came.”

His voice is quiet but stern. “You’re gonna come again while I watch. you best get to rubbin’ that pretty little clit.”

You reach between your legs and rub yourself until you’re writhing on the sofa whimpering as you come again. The vibration continues. Your eyes pinch shut. 

You open your eyes and can still only see Joel from the chest up. But his arm is slowly moving off screen and his hand must be in his lap.  “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. He puts the phone down and the screen shows his office ceiling for a minute and you hear his belt unfasten and his zipper.  You’re weak from  overstimulation as the vibrator keeps on. You hear the squirt of lotion into his hand, then he picks the phone up again and his face is twisted with need.  His mouth hangs open as he strokes himself and watches you whimper on the sofa.  You’re nearly crying at this point but you know you can’t put the phone down. 

“C’mon, you can do it,” he says.  “You’re doin’ so good, baby, Look so hot.” You sit in a position that lets it touch your g-spot and soon you're in tears.  “That’s it, baby.”  The orgasm seizes your body and you moan loudly. “Good girl,” he pants. “Gooood girl.”  You can hear the squish of his hand around his cock. 

“One more for daddy,” he breathes. “real quick.” He does something on his phone and the vibration intensifies. You whimper. 

You take a deep breath and nod, then wince as you touch yourself again.  

“Oh god baby,” he sighs, “you’re bein’ such a–ohhh—such a good girl for daddy.” 

“Just for you, daddy,”  You whimper. 

“Yeahh,”  he pants, “you’re a hot little slut—ohh, oh god—but just for daddy”

You nod tearfully. 

He sighs. “Such a good girl.” 

Your body begins to jerk and contract again and as soon as you moan his name, Joel puts his phone down and sighs, “Ah, fuck, ah–oh god-” off screen you can hear him grab a tissue and softy groan, “ohhh, oh yeah.” Then he picks the phone back up and looks at you affectionately.

There’s a knock at his office door, and you hang up. But the vibrator keeps going for several minutes and you feel like you’re almost gonna be sick. 

When it stops, you get a text. “Did you hang up on me you brat”

“Sorry, I got scared,” you respond. 

He doesn’t say anything. 

You get dressed and start to do some things around the house. 

—---------

Around noon, he texts you "get upstairs. Now." Five minutes later, Joel’s truck pulls into the driveway. When you look out the bedroom window, his tie is already loosened and his sleeves are rolled up. He reaches for his belt as he quickly walks to the door. 

He comes up the stairs two at a time.  You’re sitting on the bed when he gruffly asks, “Why are your clothes on?” He tears off your pants and panties as you remove your shirt and bra.  You can’t wait to take the plug out. 

He puts his phone and keys on the nightstand and flips you over face down on the edge of the bed where you were this morning.  

“Don’t you ever hang up on me,” he warns as he pushes your head into the bed.

“I didn't want you to get in trouble.”

“”I'm the boss, I don't get in trouble.”

“Ok.”

“Who’s the boss?”

“You are, daddy. im sorry”

“That’s right.” 

You tilt your hips for him and he runs his thumb over the end of the plug.  “Good girl,” he says. He kneels down and gives it a kiss, then trails his tongue up to your asshole.  He spreads your cheeks with both hands and twirls his tongue around it before pressing it hard against your tight little hole and sucking. He lets it go with a kiss. 

He holds you down with one arm as he lubes his fingers and his cock.  

"I want it in the front,” you protest. 

"I know ya do, angel. Would ya rather get nothin'?"

"No."

"Then you’re gonna take what daddy gives ya." He teases your asshole with one cold, wet finger. "n' you're gonna take it where I put it." He inches his finger into you. He slowly pushes in and out and rotates his finger. "Relax, baby." With some more massaging, you begin to relax. He rotates his finger to face the floor. 

"Good girl." He gradually adds another finger, both of them facing down. He slides them in and out and curls them toward your cunt.  You feel even more full with the pressure on the plug. 

"Yeah, you're plugged real good, I can feel it." 

He leans one knee on the edge of the bed and reaches under your chest to grope a breast. 

He wiggles his fingers inside you, making more room before continuing to fuck you with them. 

Then he slides his fingers out. He wipes his hand on a tissue and gets more lube, then his wet cock nudges your back door.  He takes hold of your hips and pushes the tip into you.  You gasp as the crown breaches your asshole entirely.  "Daddy," you whimper. 

“Relax, baby. That was the biggest part, ‘member?”

He pushes further and you gasp again. You’ve never felt as full as you are with your cunt plugged up and Joel's massive cock in your ass.  He pushes to the hilt with a low sigh. He slowly backs up, then pushes in again.  The next time he retreats, he grabs your hips and slams into you. "Yeah," he sighs. It's not what you wanted but it sure as hell feels good. 

He fucks you for a minute, filling your ass to the brim, a fullness you've truly never felt before. "oh yeah, this hole's still tight," he pants. He slows down his speed but doesn't hold back on power. He lifts an ass cheek and drops it to watch it jiggle. "god damn, you got a nice ass, baby." He grunts as he buries his length between your plush cheeks, and you begin to moan less restrained. 

He picks up his phone then the vibration roars to life, shaking your core and massaging his cock through your wall. 

"Oh, fuck," Joel shudders. He backs up, slams into you, bottoming out, then spits on his clean hand and reaches around to touch your clit.  "Ohh, daddy," you whimper and start to come almost instantly. Your convulsions around him are too much for Joel to bear. 

He slams into you again and pulses massively into your guts. "Ohhh, baby." He slaps your ass then kneads it as he finishes coming. 

Mercifully, he stops the vibrator.  You roll over and say, "I wish it could be you in both holes."

He laughs and pinches your cheek. "Me too, baby."

—--------

That night you go out to dinner, still plugged up. 

You order just Mac and cheese.

"Would you eat a real fuckin meal for once?" 

"I'm not that hungry"

"At least get a vegetable, too."

"I don't want one"

 "Your dad never made you eat'em, did he? Useless prick. You need some goddamn nutrients" Joel scoffs.  

"Why do you care so much?"

 He lowers his voice. "Your body can't do what I want if it's starving for nutrients"

"I can do whatever you-"

"I'm talkin' 'bout your womb, you dumb slut." This is hogwash and you know it, but it's kind of cute. It's only been a week. You don't want vegetables, though.

"Daddyyy" You whine.  

He lowers his voice. "What'd I tell you about callin' me that in public? Hmm? Only when I say it first."

"Daddy you fucked me so good this morning."

He takes a deep breath in through his nose and looks around.  

He gets out his phone and turns the vibrator on, looking to humiliate you. Your body jolts but you whimper "Oh, Daddy."

He turns up the intensity all the way and you gasp "oh fuck." 

You can't sit still.  You cover your mouth and whimper. You squirm in your seat. Stretching back, trying to get it away from your g-spot. You reach between your legs. 

 "Don't you dare," he says sternly and turns it off. He asks for the food to go and adds a side of broccoli. 

—-----

When you get home, he brings another black bag in from the car and sets it on the nightstand. He rustles around with it while you take off your clothes.  Then he puts you on the bed face up. He unbuttons and unzips his slacks and pulls the waistband of his boxers down under his cock.  

"Let's see how ya did."  He hikes up your dress, takes off your panties. 

First the looks at the panties and says "fuck, you were leakin' all over the place."  Then he tosses them aside, slowly pulls out the plug, and brings it to your mouth. 

"Open wide," he says. "Hold this."

He sticks the plug in your mouth, covered in the combined froth of your juices and the effects of the vibration. It's salty, sits awkwardly in your mouth and sticks out. 

You feel his spend from the morning beginning to trickle out of you.  He swipes his fingers through it,  gets down on his knees and pushes it back in. When he pushes his two fingers into you he groans "god damn," and adds a third right away. "Oh baby, you're so stretched out," he marvels as he carefully removes his fingers, trying not to let any more cum spill out. "God damn, I thought I ruined ya before." 

His talk is making you throb and squirm. "Guess that's what happens," he sighs. "fuck ya open real good then plug it up so it stays." 

"Gimme that, we're gonna need a bigger plug."  He holds out his hand under your mouth and you let the toy drop into his hand. He tosses it to the side. 

"Shoulda known. Take this cock too good for a Small." Now he’s just turning himself on.  He lubes his hand and starts stroking himself. 

You egg him on, protesting, "You always say I'm tight."

He laughs. "Maybe for this cock." He slowly strokes himself.  "But trust me, baby. You're ruined for anyone else."  

He lines himself up, then pushes his cock into you, bottoming out in one smooth thrust. "God damn, baby." He pounds you harder than usual. "Guess you can take it even better now, can't ya?"

"Yeah, Daddy"

"So wet too, just drippin' for me." 

"Feels so good," you sigh. 

Joel slams into you then moves his cock inside you in a swirling  motion. "God damn," he sighs. "Gonna be so loose when I'm through with ya." He swirls his hips again. "baby'll slide right out at this rate." 

He slams into you and rotates his hips again, grinding against your clit. Your back arches and you whimper "ruin me, daddy."  He keeps railing you hard.

"Yeah," he pants. "Good girl." 

You moan as you contract around him. 

"Now I feel ya," he says.  "Couldn't feel shit before."

He plunges into you one more time and erupts, pulsing massively, gushing into his previous load, replacing what was lost.  

He leans over you as he finishes coming, holding your legs up. He takes a new, bigger plug out from the black bag, then he carefully pulls out his cock. 

He pushes the plug into you without lube this time and it slides right in. "god damn," he marvels. "shoulda got the Large, too."

------------

------------

Thank you so much for reading and an additional thank you to those who engage out here 🖤🖤 I recognize and appreciate you.

You can follow @toxicfics and turn on notifications for fic alerts. make sure your phone has push notifications enabled for tumblr.

-------

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore  @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy  @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk  @filthfairy  @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles  @harriedandharassed  @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy  @cutesyscreenname  @weddingfairy  @pedropascal-whore  @spideysimpossiblegirl  @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot

[casuallivi]

The Shadow Between Us

Hello, ladies. Long time. Long, long time. I began writing this for elriel month 2023 (sheesh) and it was supposed to be a sequel to Three is a Party 🤭🤭. Unfortunately, I never finished, but today I felt like posting it anyways, trying to feel that flame of having active hobbies and all that. It's not perfect, but it was born from passion. Let's hope for the best. Love yall ❤️❤️

Summary: Elain is no strange to the possessiveness of the fae, especially when it comes from an Illyrian male. Yet, nothing could prepare her for the calling of the Shadow. For a Shadow needs his Seer, as a Master needs his Flower.

Warnings: Listen, this will be NSFW. Will not be giving explicit warnings because the act will built itself, so just imagine that any sexy thing under the sun can happen, along with curses and graphic description. Read at your own risk. (this warning makes no sense now, but that's where old stabilized me was hoping to go to 😬. enjoy anyways.) Post ACOSF.

~~~

“Oh, mother!”

The freshly-cut bouquet of chrysanthemums slipped through her hands coloring the hardwood floor red. Elain quickly turned around, palms hiding her spoked eyes, skin turning crimson as the flowers at her feet. A feverish heat crawled up her spine as her mind replayed the scene which she came across:

Azriel, half-naked, pinning what appeared to be, a very naked, Shadowsinger to the mattress. The slip of a rough groan sounding awfully sensual in her sensitive ears.

“I’m – I’m so sorry,” she stumbled an apology. "I didn't know you were," she stopped mid sentence, looking the right word to say. "Here."

All Elain wanted was to put fresh flowers on his nightstand, so he'd come back from Dawn to a cozy bedrom. Instead, she found Azriel already home, looking like he was playing with himself. Quite literally.

She tried not to fan herself.

They’d shared a bed before: Azriel, Elain and the beings concealed inside themselves that noone else knew about; the Seer and the Shadowsinger.

A forbidden and painfully delicious experience that left her insides sore and sensitive enough to get legs to stop working for the rest of the day. Not that she would go anywhere being knocked out for 24h straight. Elain never thought she would let two men – male and shadow, really – dominate her completely, use her at their will, but she had let Azriel and the Shadowsinger explore and command her, fill every hole in her body. Even the Seer she trapped deep inside had surfaced that day, eager for a taste of the darkness calling her forth.

Elain peered over her shoulder, not feeling bold enough to confront the males tangled in the sheets.

She knew the Shadowsinger was prone to roam the land when Azriel’s shields presented the smallest of crevices for him to slip through, she just didn’t expect for them to indulge in this type of activities without the intention of seducing her fueling them. She turned to the pair, heart thundering with an emotion she could not comprehend.

“Why is she reacting like that?” The Shadowsinger broke the silence first, sitting up to better look at her.

Azriel took his time to appraise Elain, the harsh murderous glint of anger that had been there a second ago being replaced with curiosity.

“She’s getting creative.” He said with the hint of a sneer.

Deadly talons, which spiked on the wall behind the bed to give him stability, retroceded slowly, black leathery wing span. “Is not what you think." He bursted her bubble, hands back on the Shadowsinger's neck. "I'm locking him back.”

“He is naked,” she blurted. Remembering later that it was not proper to be commenting on another male’s nudity in front of him. Even if the male was him. But not quite.

Snorting loudly, the male under him pumped his hips upwards, catching her attention. “Little flower, where you looking at! My eyes are up here, love.”

“He does it to spite me.” Azriel spoke over him, vexed shadows blurring in and out of existence as his shadow-self strugled to remain outside his body. "Enough now.” He snarled, being ignored. “Go back.”

“Come on! I have not been out in months! I need a breather.”

“You do not breathe.”

“Semantics.” Came the Shadowsinger strangled hiss, wings misting away in tiredness.

With a warcry he tried to throw his master away, the movement a mere diversion to his true attempt to escape by mystifying. It was no easy feature to trap a shadow. Bright cobalt shackles glowed in Shadow’s wrist, his hiss of pain unsettling Elain. Azriel fought his urge to sooth her as he registering her soft whimper, his concentration flickering, making him struggle to reabsorb the tendon of darkness stealing his shape.

The thief was reluctant to go, scraping at the walls, grabbing to gates of his mind hurling insults at Azriel, who shut him down, shoving him in. A battle he was losing to fatigue. Reluctantly, quivering shadows began to climb his hands, then his arms, the dull ache of sentient shadows sinking back into the tattoos a comforting promise of solitude. Still, his shadow-self refused to go.

A swarm of shadow covered Elain seconds before The Shadowsinger burst through the power-shackles with a raging howl, a blue wave explosion sweeping the bedroom.

“Fuck me.” Azriel heaved.

The Shadowsinger merely wheezed a laugh, punching the male in the gut, who collapse to the side. Shadows fluttered in and out of existence under the electrical haze of unusual power, the otherly being molding his body back.

Elain lowered her hands, having covered her head by pure instinct, watching the havoc in disbelief. He winked at her.

"Elain, dear, if you were waiting to give me a feverish kiss there's no better time than now."

Deep inside, there was a small part of her worried for being here, in the middle of this peculiar struggle.

The problem is the rest of her was shimmering with excitement at the sight of her males’ display of power, drunk by the dangerous enticing atmosphere. Elain cut her gaze to her Azriel, who swiped a hand over his face, finding him beautiful even amidst his frustration. Curls damp by sweat clung to his forehead, his heavy breathing provoking memories of other activities who caused him to be in similar shape on same bed. Prone on top of her, or under her, his hard body pounding–

Beside him, the Shadowsinger sat up straight as an arrow, startling Elain, who had forgotten all about him, too busy fantasizing.

“Shit, she’s dripping.” He sneered.

Too tired to sit, Azriel braced himself on his elbows, observing her with all the scrutiny usually reserved for the hidden dungeons in the mountain. Elain did not buckle, in fact, she smiled at him; a shy smile nestled between bright red cheeks, glowing doe eyes blinking a little too quickly, betraying the direction of her mind.

He cocked his head, Elain feeling the cool wisp of shadow grazing her neck, curling at her ear.

I can practically taste your thoughts. Came Azriel’s muffled deliver, relied by one of his many assistants. She batted them away.

"Busybody." She mumbled absently, knuckles turned white where she clutched her peach sundress. Elain had no idea cotton could suddenly feel so restrictive and stuffy.

Who would have thought that flowers would put her in such delicate situation? The flowers in Azriel’s room were nurtured with so much love and devotion they turned spelled, ever-bright, never-withering, flowers capable of intoxicating poor Cassian out of existence. Elain didn’t care, she’d grow them anyways, exchanged the batches – even when they had no need to be replace – to match them with the little notes she desired to pass along. It was a great shock to open his door and find Azriel, not only in the room, but accompanied of his counterpart, rolling around in bed – not that the purpose of said rolling was recreational, but her mind didn’t bother with details. All that mattered was the image of Azriel straddling his shadow-self, battling for control, the cedary musk of power dominating her attention.

Shadow back-handed Azriel's shoulder.

“She’s so easily aroused these days.” he commented casually.

Azriel cut him a glare. “How’d the fuck would you know?”

“You think you are the only one who can feel her?” Shadow smirk was evil, “Please, I can feel her. I can feel her, too.” He complemented, giving Elain a knowing look. “Writhing on the inside, clawing to break free. I can give you all that little head of your is painting. All you have to do is ask; get on your knees and ask me nicely and I give you it all."

"Come here, love." He tapped the bed.

Goosebumps tingled her arms, a subdued ring of white encasing her brown eyes. Unknown to herself, Elain took one step forward, shadows swirling beneath her feet.

“Are you fertile, love?” Black lit eyes dropped to the v between her legs, as if he could see the ruining that remains of her undergarments. “Is that little garden of yours ready to be seeded?”

He palmed his hardening dick, hands going up and down the length of it. “Want me to put a baby on you? You’d look good with a child swelling your belly. My child.”

She turned her head to the side, wide-eyed “You can sire children?”

The question was shy, whispered with wonder. Like most fae, Elain had no idea of true the extension of Azriel's abilities. Let alone his shadows.

The Shadowsinger smile was feral, predatory, oozing confidence. A smile that was vanished by a kick on the ribs, the strengh of it sending him flying out of the bed.

One second more and hands were grabbing her waist before Elain had time to gasp, Azriel throwing her over his shoulder to carry her to the door. His action was enough for a moment of lucidity to hit her. Remains of human embarrassment sparkling under the surface of her skin, the quiet demure lady she no longer was feeling taunted by his crude words. Elain gulped the thick lump clogging her throat down, feeling self-conscious. At times like this, she hated how well they could read her.

Azriel dropped her back on her feet outside the room, giving her a quick peck.

"Wait here for a minute."

[...]

[japanwords]

間 (ma) “emptiness, space, interval”

“Though thirty spokes may form the wheel,

it is the hole within the hub

which gives the wheel utility.

It is not the clay the potter throws,

which gives the pot its usefulness,

but the space within the shape,

from which the pot is made.

Without a door, the room cannot be entered,

and without windows it is dark.

Such is the utility of non-existence.”

-Tao Te Ching

When I was first introduced to Japanese art I was struck by the amount of white space. Being totally different from the art of the Western culture in which I was raised, I questioned its purpose. Why was it there? Did the artist run out of ink? Or ideas? Or was there some deeper reason?

I now know that it is active negative space. It is the artistic manifestation of ma - emptiness, interval or space. It brings balance to the artwork. It gives a refreshing calmness that could not possibly exist if the paper or canvas was completely covered with ink. By its contrasting nature it enhances the positive lines of the ink. Chinese culture also values this “leaving blank”; it is known as 留白 (liú bái) (the two kanji mean “stop” and “white” respectively).

In a calligraphy work this active negative space is as important as the black lines of ink. The two are inseparable and complement each other, much like taoist yin and yang. In fact one could argue that it is the empty space that is essence of the calligraphy work - the black ink lines exist merely to highlight, divide, and protect this empty space.

Just as the empty space is as important as the ink, ma teaches us that non-being is as important as being, and non-doing is as important as doing. When we embrace non-doing and non-existence, it opens the way for creative exploration and new possibilities, as was understood by Moomins creator Tove Jansson:

“Every children’s book should have a path in it where the writer stops and the child goes. A threat or a delight that can never completely be explained. A face never completely revealed.”

So why not explore the mystery and wisdom of ma? Find the space for nothing. Take the path where the doing stops and the non-doing begins. Take a leap into nothingness and see where ma takes you.

(thanks to @catcrumb for the Tove Jansson quote)

[nqmonarch]

Red Flags in HSR Characters

I have a problem of simping for the most red flagged characters except I can't handle red flags. Like violence makes me nope the fuck out of any relationship, I am so scared of getting hurt in any way, shape, or form. In real life I'm fucking terrified of being manipulated into being dependent on someone because I've experienced that shit and it isn't fun. Hate being insulted, degraded, all of that.

But the red flagged characters are just too cool???

Like Dr. Ratio, sure he's a pompous shit and would probably end up degrading you which I hate but he's so cool?! So I need to find some way to make him into this weird yellow flag without making myself into some super genius because no way is that gonna happen.

So instead put him in like a tutor AU, he's teaching you and when you get something wrong he gives you such a side ways insult. Like it takes a minute to realize it's an insult, it's worded in such a creative peculiar way. The second it registers you begin doing ten times worse on every question. It doesn't take long for him to realize that being told you're shit isn't inspiring to everyone. So he takes a... kinder approach. He's still a hard ass and strict but he's actively trying to do better and you can tell, when he starts a sentence suddenly stops and then brings that sentence in a completely different direction. You both end up learning. You end up learning the material and he ends up learning how to be somewhat better at dealing with people whose ideal day isn't being insulted.

Then there's the aeons. i simp for all of them, like how can you not??? Especially Nanook (using he/him pronouns for Nanook), Yaoshi, IX, and Aha. Now first off IX isn't a red flag IX is a lovely little black hole who I will defend with my life. But the other three??? They're as red as a stop sign.

Like sure, Nanook would probably destroy you the first chance he gets. Maybe Nanook is the destruction because he wants to be destroyed. I, I don't know man. Like he's so beautiful but how the hell do you even write romance with him? That isn't just like destroying the love interest.

Maybe he's had an insatiable urge to destroy everything ever since the dawn of his existence and he can't remember why. He's always been filled with rage, hatred, toward everything that's existed. Then he sees you and it all comes rushing back toward him. Your death, the hole it filled, the only thing that could really be blamed was the universe. It was everyone and everything's fault. So he would destroy it all to protect you.

Still a red flag but man I'm trying my best, no matter what Nanook will always be a red flag. Yaoshi on the other hand... surely there's a way I can make Yaoshi into a yellow flag after all they just want to help.

Yaoshi who would save your entire planet, heal every individual part of the ecosystem and every person, just to see you smile. They would ask nothing in return and instead remain by your side, enjoying the beautiful of the world. Then the mara strikes, people begin to lose their minds and themselves and you're left to beg them for a way to reverse this. But this is the price of life.

Yaoshi assures you that this is natural but they still watch on in horror as you inevitably succumb to the mara as well. Only then do they try to figure out how to fix it.

The further I get the more hopeless I become. Then there's Aha...

They probably found you entertaining at first, a human full of surprises and excitement, someone that could survive any trial. Then you grew on them a bit more and they found himself becoming attached. Aha wasn't supposed to be attached but this of course just makes an opportunity for more entertainment! Now they're actually invested and can experience the nail biting tension of all this drama!

Just another form of entertainment, it'll be a shame when you're gone though.

Then there's all the other beautiful red flags Ruan Mei, Jing Liu, Blade, Luocha, and Aventurine and Sunday seem like red flags as well even though they're not out. Like if bad to date why do I want to date?

Their red flags are a part of them and it's hard to work around it, so sometimes you just gotta embrace it. Life's rough man. In the end it's my fault for liking red flags. I'll just stick to Jing Yuan for now, peak husband material.

[shamless-bee]

Morning baby

Ghost x Afab!Reader

After coming home from hanging out with the lads, ghost finds his baby sleeping in his shirt and some panties; he can’t help but eat you up~

MDNI (18+ only)

Warnings~ slightly cnc if you squint (Reader is sleeping in the beginning), awakened with sexual touching, boozy!Ghost, oral f!Receiving, fingering, rough sex, P.I.V, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it.), just in general super smutty, and this gets away from me~

Dear reader

If any of the warnings above bother you, please don’t engage with this post; if you continue and find other warnings I should mention, please let me know, reader has female anatomy, but reader is referred to as you. (Also I didn’t proof read this)

Word count~ 1.6k

Please do not repost as your own, share on other platforms or plagiarize. Explore your creativity~

Reblog if you enjoy!

You were waiting patiently on the bed for Simon to get home from the pub. He rarely gets time to himself and the boys from T.141 outside of missions and bloodshed, so it didn’t bother you as much as it could have when you noticed it was half past midnight.

You sighed deeply through your nose and felt your eyelids getting heavy. You tried to stay awake, hoping to see Simon home before falling asleep, but your eyes slowly drifted closed. Before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

-

It was a quarter after two in the morning when Simon unlocked the front door to your shared flat. He grunted out softly as he did his best to unlace his boots; his dark eyes looked around the entrance of the flat, the TV off in the living room and the kitchen unoccupied; he often found you there making sweets; it was one of your favorite hobbies to make cupcakes and cookies.

He quietly walked further into the flat and ripped off the balaclava from his head, his sandy blonde hair messy; he didn't think he drank that much but could still feel a lingering numbness from the alcohol consumed tonight; he rubbed his rough hands softly over his face trying to sober up cursing Johnny in the process for wanting to see who could hold out longer.

He went to the bedroom, hoping to find you reading or perhaps even touching yourself. He loved coming home to the lewd sounds of your wet fingers touching your needy little cunt and the whimpers you moan, and the sound of his name rolling off of your tongue. His mind was already swimming in lust as he made it past the door into the bedroom, finding you sleeping on top of the covers of the bed.

His eyes lingered on you, wearing his black shirt that almost completely covered you. If it weren’t for the fact your legs are slightly spread, revealing the thin fabric of your panties covering your mound. His mouth was almost salivating as his dark eyes devoured you.

He couldn’t help his mind getting more excited when his touch fingertips slowly brushed down your exposed leg; you let out a soft moan from the touch, and his eyes darted back to your face only to see you were still sleeping, his hand softly caressing your leg giving it a soft squeeze and before he can stop himself he hooks both his thumbs under the waistband of your panties slowly bringing them down your legs.

Simon softly grunts as he looks at your moist folds, his mouth watering; he slowly pushes your legs apart as he sets his head between them, his tongue pressing to your clit, Simon feels your body stir, but you still haven’t awakened just yet, he smirks before he laps from your hole to your clit slowly, giving your clit a little suck. A soft moan leaves your mouth, eyes still closed, his hands now gripping your thighs while his tongue works on your clit.

You start panting in your sleep, another moan passing through your lips into the quiet room. He grunts softly into your mound as he tastes more of your arousal. He feels your body stirring more before your eyes start to flutter open.

“S-Simon?” You whimper out as the sensation between your legs grows; you see his head first in your cunt as you try to sit upright with your arms. He kisses your clit, earning another soft moan from you before moving his head away from your soaked cunt

“Morning baby,” his rough voice hits your ears softly. Before he returns to giving your cunt another long lick from your hole to your clit once again

You weren't expecting to be treated like this once he got home, but you’re not complaining as his mouth works on you skillfully; soft moans continue to spill past your lips; to him, the sound is heavenly. One of his hands left your thigh, and his finger dipped into your soaked hole, his fingers curling with each thrust to hit your perfect spot.

“Simon!” You moaned as your fingers found their way into his hair, softly gripping onto it as your hips jerked towards him, a familiar knot forming in your lower stomach.

He grunts against your clitoris, sending a wave of electricity through you, your walls gripping onto his fingers, the sound of your arousal and lewd wetness from your cunt getting louder as his fingers start to move faster into you, he knew you were close, and he wanted so badly to tip you over the edge, to taste your sweet release on his fingers after he’s made you come undone.

Your back starts to arch as the knot becomes intense; he moves his other hand from your thigh to the right under your knee, forcing your leg towards yourself as he enters a second finger into your already dripping cunt, his fingers moving more roughly inside of you as he starts to suck on your bud.

You scream out his name as you come undone, your fingers tugging roughly at his hair, seeing stars in your vision. His fingers don’t slow down; he wants you to ride your high as long as he can push you

“O-oh fuck y-yes,” you scream as your legs shake, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head. He slows the movements of his fingers as your high ends; he sits up to look at you, a panting mess, his dark eyes locking onto your half-closed ones, your face flushed. He doesn’t stop himself from moving his fingers into his mouth, a groan coming from his throat as he sucks his fingers clean from your juices. He smirks after he takes them out of his mouth.

“I’m not done with you yet, baby.” His voice is thick with lust as he quickly tugs off his belt and unzips his pants; his thick hard cock springs to attention, already dipping with his arousal.

Your mind is already foggy; being awakened with him between your legs and having an intense orgasm has clouded your mind. You softly hum, almost falling asleep again; his hands grip your waist, pulling you towards him, a soft scream escaping your lips from such sudden movement.

“I’m going to fuck the living hell out of you,” he growled close to your ear as he hicks your legs onto his clothed chest, his buff arms on either side of your head; before you could comprehend what was said, you feel the tip of his cock already at your entrance, and with a quick movement of his hips he slams his cock deep inside your cunt, you walls clenching around him as a gasp leaves you, you always felt so full when his cock was barred deep inside you

He growls, his head dropping as he circles his hips, wanting to ensure he has stuffed you as completely as he can with his cock. He can feel your walls twitch around him before he brings his hips back and slams into you again, another moan echoing through his ears. He’s unable to hold himself back any longer, his eyes hungry for more; he pounds into you relentlessly, your hands now digging into the duvet, his balls slap into your ass with each quick thrust he slams into you

“Fucking take my cock, baby; you always take it so well,” he rasps as he continues plowing into you. You can’t help but moan; you loved when he got so rough with you, his dirty words always making you crave more of him.

“Fuck” he yells out, his hand moving around your neck as he starts to choke you, your eyes once again going to the back of your head as you become a moaning mess underneath him. You feel the knot once again forming in your stomach, your moans getting drowned out by his grunts and the sound of him slamming into you relentlessly. He can feel your walls tightening around his cock as he fucks you into the bed.

“Don’t you dare cum.” He barks at you, his hand still secure around your throat. “You're not allowed to cum until I say so,” he grunts.

You do your best not to cum as his cock continues to plow into you, your moans becoming louder, your throat becoming scratchy. He can feel your walls get tighter around him as you try to hold onto your orgasm.

“Fuck! Simon, please,” you scream out, your knuckles becoming white as you fist the duvet

“No. Not yet,” he barks at you again. He releases your neck and uses his thumb on your clit, the rough finger moving in circles. He can see the tears forming in your eyes as you do your best to listen to him, not to come undone.

You can feel his cock swell inside of you, his thrusts not halting for a second. “Please, Simon! I can't,” you scream in lustful agony. You can hear his grunts and growls get louder; for a moment, you are positive he is starting to ignore your pleas; he circles your clit fast with his thumb before pinching it harshly

“Cum.” He commands you to let go, your knot coming undone, and he slams his hips into you one last time before he empties his ropes of seed deep inside of you; he feels your walls twitch around his cock as you both reach your highs.

After a few moments, you both panting, he moves off of you and lays beside you on the bed; he turns his head towards you and brings his hand to your face; tucking a hair behind your ear, he pulls you into his chest and kisses the top of your head.

You’re exhausted, and all you hear before you drift into sleep is Simon saying softly, “Goodnight, baby.”

[sprintingowl]

Turnip28

Turnip28 is an indie wargame built around kitbashing models so that they look like the haggard survivors of a thousand years of vegetable-motivated Napoleonic war.

The core rules are free, and (as of 4/2/24) the game is receiving regular support.

Rules-wise, the closest comparison is definitely Warhammer. Models have statistics for Wounds, (in)Accuracy, (non)Toughness, and number of attacks they can make. Solo models (called Snobs) and units (called Followers) are both fielded, and an emphasis is placed on armies being unpredictable, difficult-to-control things that panic and get disorganized and sometimes just don't listen to your orders.

The biggest mechanical divergence is that players take turns activating units, and the process for this involves using a Snob to tell a gang of Followers what to do. Only if there's no Followers nearby to boss around does the Snob act directly.

The tone of the game's writing and setting is definitely black comedy. War is gross, no one involved is particularly competent, the motive for the fight has been completely lost over the years, and one of the narrative's main characters is a pile of fingers that, due to the decent tactical advice it gives, has been scooped into a box to be carried around. There's a genuine toad-in-the-hole recipe included in one of the factions' unit list.

The overall structure and layout of the book will make you say "this is definitely a wargame," but the rules are well-organized and easy to follow and reference. It's at least as professional as anything out of the big presses, and the art is gorgeous, evocative, and creative.

The game's factions, called Cults, are varied and distinct and come with advice on how to play them. Most of them pull from the same pool of generic units, with a few variations and passive effects, but they all do a solid job of transforming the way the game is played.

Despite this, the real star of the game---which I think gets somewhat overshadowed by how much game there is---is still the kitbashing. You can use proxies or models from another game, but Turnip28 really wants to get you into painting and modeling your unique army. You can still have a good time if you just like the mechanics, but you'll have a great time if you click with the modeling.

All told, Turnip28 feels like a gem. It uses a familiar mechanical foundation in order to get a little weird with its setting, and to encourage players to do creative modeling. The end result is a rulebook packed with gorgeous art, which reads cleanly, and which lets you and a buddy crash strange little squads of gremlins into each other for an hour.

[hotjaneaustenmenpoll]

Do behind-the-scenes anecdotes count as propaganda?

Samuel West (Mr Elliot, Persuasion 1995) is an ambassador for Jane Austen’s House, and recently led a discussion there of “What makes a good Jane Austen adaptation”?

(His introduction includes the question, “Who’s your Darcy - Laurence Olivier? Colin Firth? Matthew Macfadyen?” so he would totally get the vibe of this tournament.)

It's a great discussion - it focuses not only on Persuasion 1995 (starting at about 45 minutes in) but also on Sense and Sensibility 1995, Mansfield Park 1999, and even a bit on Pride and Prejudice 1995 (namely, why it was so important to have Darcy jump in the lake).

A few highlights:

Samuel West was rather cross at being asked to read for Mr Elliot - until he learned that Captain Wentworth was being played by Ciarán Hinds.

Because the costume designer for Persuasion 1995 didn’t have a big budget but did have time to be creative, she was able to make a great-looking, visually distinctive costume for Mr Elliot out of incredibly cheap materials - billiard-table cloth and mattress ticking.

Filming in candlelight, with triple-wicked candles, leaves actors’ nostrils completely black.

You can spot the cads in 1990s Jane Austen adaptations by their very pointy sideburns.

Samuel West saying Ciaran Hinds is so hot I'm not even offended you don't consider me competition is propaganda. This has also just sent me down a rabbit hole of examining all the 1990s actors sideburns and they really are all very pointy

Captain Wentworth (1995) Vs Captain Benwick (2007)

Cad with Pointy Sideburns (1) Vs Cad with Pointy Side Burns (2)

[theinwardshoe]

This is my one and probably only longform essay about hermitcraft, I hope you enjoy

Part 1: my introduction to Minecraft

I first found Minecraft from a friend who had pocket edition on his phone at recess, he let me play for a few minutes, and those first few minutes fueled an obsession. I was raised on LEGO and Lincoln logs, of course I was going to love it. I spent the next few months convincing my parents to buy me the pocket edition on my tablet. After a long time, they forked over the 6.99 and I was off. My creativity spread over several weeks building Star Wars ships on a flat world. After a few more weeks of convincing my sister joined me on my first survival world. I spent a long time digging holes. Then I began to wonder, did anyone else play Minecraft?

Part 2: the early days

In YouTube, I began to be my constant search for Minecraft builds and content. In my first months, i bounced around between various creators, many of whom’s videos I found interesting yet not the creators themselves. I did eventually settle with a Minecraft creator by the name of Unspeakablegaming, who’s videos at the time I found very intriguing.

After following several of his series over the course of several months, I began to realize I was slowly leaving the demographic of his videos and consequently his energy and the nature of the majority of his videos began to irritate me until I completely stopped watching them.

This was around 2016, when I began looking for something I could be invested in. It was then when I encountered a YouTuber by the name of Mumbo Jumbo. While I, was by no means a redstoner, and would realistically be even less inclined to follow his tutorials as I played in pocket edition, his videos nonetheless were endlessly entertaining for me.

I endlessly waited for each new redstone tutorial while being somewhat disappointed when I would instead see an episode of Hermitcraft. Remembering the SMPs that Unspeakablegaming had participated, in the past, I finally worked up the courage to watch one.

I still remember the very first one, it was in the first third of season 5, Mumbo was working his way through his villager farm, and I couldn’t believe it, it was still Mumbo, *faffing about* doing his thing. And I watched his videos, until the end busting with Iskall. Until that moment he hadn’t even interacted with anyone else on the server, and it was a magical moment, they interacted naturally, it wasn’t scripted it was just friends hanging out and playing Minecraft.

Part 3: Hermitcraft season 6-7

I ended season 5 of hermitcraft and began excitedly awaiting season 6. It was at this point I began to look back at other hermitcraft members, including scar and iskall, and so when Hermitcraft season 6 started, I was watching well over half the whitelist (take that hermitcraft recap!). as the season progressed i settled into a few hermitcraft members i enjoyed watching, and continued on through civil war, area 77 and Demise.

it was then that my world changed, yes the world changed. 28 of February 2020

As the new semester of school began, and the new season of hermitcraft began, my enthusiasm for school hit an all time low, and then as we all know the news of cruise ships being docked and the words pandemic and disease became more than words in textbooks about the black plague or the Spanish flu. As darkness and chaos raged throughout the world, Season 7 started. I watched and listened to nearly every stream, watched every episode and clung to that joy that I experienced watching it.

The insistent optimism from all the hermits that propelled season 7 into being a refuge from the storm. Much of the success of hermitcrafts rise to popularity came from these days and months, as homebound cities and nations, and myself included looked a bit lost, but found happiness and hope in the hermits.

For months I enjoyed, the world slowly turning back to normal, I finished up my last year of high school and I knew I would be going to serve a mission for my church, meaning I probably wouldn’t see the last of season 8

Part 4: Season 8

Season 7 ending brought even more excitement and anticipation for some of my favorite creators who towards the end of the season stopped uploading.

Season 8 began with the voice chat, with the appearance of two new hermits and a whole lot of fun. During these months I began working full time, although the nature of my job allowed me to listen to a large majority of the streams, impulse, Gem, and Iskall became constant as I worked, and they worked alongside me. They were days never to be forgotten.

And then, my day to leave drew closer. The big moon plot reached its climax and end as the world exploded, just as I was about to leave. It had been great, I still cherish memories of listening to them talk during long hours stocking shelves, or in the mornings before work to see what crazy things they had come up with.

I missed all of season 9. I returned home late December 2023, just as it ended. As they said their last goodbyes to season ninfinity.

Now with the start of season 10, and the inclusion of yet another two hermits, hi Skizz, hi Joel, all I can hope for, and much of what I have seen from the community is the same positivity. I have continued enjoying their videos and streams, while I’m working and at home.

Part 5: Conclusion

The world of hermitcraft is beyond the invididual seasons, it is the community. Hermitcraft is all of us. It is all the positivity, all the genuine energy they bring in everything they do.

For those who don’t know them, I invite you to come in and take a seat. And for those who already know, enjoy, and remember. We may wish for the past, but They make the future a little sweeter. What the future hold is not certain, but as long as there is a Welcome back Miners and Crafters, it will be okay