#like i get the mens style but the self love tags really get me

[always-just-red]

@lunariadew asked: 'Can you write a poly fic maby like a feel good fic or date night or something with all the boys! I’m greedy and I think there’s not enough poly fics as there should be'

Nothing profound this time around! Just some good old-fashioned shenanigans. I've wanted to do a fic with all the boys for SO long (Infold, hire me to write a sitcom-style show for the guys, PLEASE) I've kept it platonic since it's early stages; it's open to interpretation about how many sparks are flying and between whom exactly..... 👀 But if ppl want more of this, I'm all over it. Platonic or romantic? I'll play it by ear!

Game Night

L&DS Boys X Reader

Summary: The most important men in your life can manage one evening together, right? For you? Please? Pretty please?

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader, some swearing, a lil conflict, non-canon (I know some of the guys probably know each-other but we're pretending they don't 😇)

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Rafayel… what do you think this is?”

The artist stands at your open door, wearing a self-assured smile and one of the flashier outfits you’ve seen him in, and that’s really saying something. Between you is a bouquet of lilies, petals curled like frozen licks of fire that compliment— deliberately, if you had to guess— the warmer fires within his eyes. Those eyes narrow at your question.

“What do you think it is?�� he says suspiciously, lowering the flowers.

“…Game night?”

You’re not sure why you phrase it so tentatively. You know what it is; you’re the host. You open your door wider, stepping aside to give Rafayel a better view of the apartment behind you, and the remainder of his smile sinks.

“Hi,” Xavier calls out, and you don’t have to see him to know he’s giving a wholesome sort of wave.

“Hi…” Rafayel answers, barely more than a whisper as his eyes flit between everyone else in the room, because he’s the last to arrive. “Game night, yeah,” he nods assertively, “I knew that.” Then a deep breath: “Can I, like, put these somewhere—”

“Kitchen counter,” you gesture.

“Got it.” He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he skirts past the lounge and makes for your kitchen, where another bouquet already lies waiting. He zeroes in on it. “Looks like mine’s not the only heart you’re breaking tonight, huh, cutie? What are these—” he pokes at a petal— “daturas?”

“They’re her favourite,” speaks a distinctly low voice.

Rafayel doesn’t look up. He plonks his bouquet on top of the other and winces: “They’re really not, though.”

“He’s right,” you chip in, giving Sylus a sheepish smile, and now Rafayel looks up, beaming.

“She likes roses,” Zayne says, with the calm confidence he’d quote a medical journal. On the sofa beside him, Xavier nods, and you grin at them both.

“Noted,” Sylus chuckles.

Rafayel’s less convinced. “Since when?!”

“Since forever, Raf. I like lilies too, so I didn’t say anything, ‘kay?” You beckon him back to the lounge, ignoring his splutters of disbelief. “C’mere, let me introduce you to everyone.”

The man slinks to your side like a reluctant shadow, and your hands find your hips. “This is Zayne. Xavier,” you point out, putting faces to names; Rafayel’s heard stories about each. Then you nod towards Sylus. “Over there’s Skye.”

From his place by the window, Sylus lifts a hand in greeting.

“So… yeah,” you finish. Oh, wait! “Guys, this is—”

“They know who I am,” Rafayel shrugs, his fame apparently heavy on his shoulders. He glances around the room for validation, but he gets none, so he tries again. “You do know who I am, right?”

“Sorry,” Xavier admits with an awkward smile, glancing back at Sylus: you?

The man has to think about it. You know for a fact he’s traded more than one of Rafayel’s paintings for a profit, but he smirks and gives an even more exaggerated shrug than the artist himself.

Really?

“You’re Rafayel,” Zayne states plainly.

“Yeah! See, I told you, cutie—”

“You slipped on a paintbrush and checked yourself into Akso, right? The nurses still talk about it.”

Rafayel’s enthusiasm drains. He looks conflicted as he mulls over the additional information. “In, like, a good way?” he hazards.

Zayne stares back at him, wielding silence like a scalpel before cutting deeper with a: “…sure.”

You bite back a smile. Leaving the two to discuss the finer details of Rafayel’s notoriety at the hospital, you wander over to the kitchen, where you fish out a vase from the back of a cupboard. You fill it, set it down on the counter, then reach for Sylus’s bouquet. There’s a black satin ribbon; you untie it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, sweetie?” asks the man himself, joining you discreetly.

The others can’t really hear you— they’re still talking. “What,” you smirk, retrieving your scissors from a drawer, “you worried Xavier’s gonna arrest you?”

Sylus laughs lowly, quietly. “That’s adorable.”

“Good.” You pick up a flower and trim a leaf from the stem. “Because even if he wanted to—” you wave it, just short of his face— “I’d protect you, ok?”

He regards the flower beneath his nose. Smiles smugly. “These can be toxic, sweetie.”

“Really? Whoops.” You put it down, then snatch up a lily from Rafayel’s bouquet. “En Garde!”

“These too.”

“What the hell?”

The flame-red flower drops from your fingers, and Sylus laughs more sincerely. “Stick to roses, kitten. Or…” He moves his hand over his deconstructed bouquet, his Evol pruning the rest of the leaves from the stems. A tendril of it gathers the flowers, delivering them to him so he can hold them out to you with a flourish. “Live dangerously. Who am I to judge?”

You take them, then plop them into the vase. “Cute.”

“I’m here all week,” he grins. “You’d better wash your hands, hmm?”

With a hmph of agreement, you turn to the sink. You spend half a minute, rubbing soap and warm water over your hands, and when you turn back around— still drying them— something is different. The lilies are gone. Sylus is looking at you, innocuous.

“Real mature, Skye.”

He makes no effort to defend himself. You’re about to tell him that his magic better extend to making flowers reappear when your attention is whipped back to the lounge. The voices from that side have raised, so you lean forward on your kitchen island, watching their owners in a sort of stakeout.

“I take it you have a plan,” Sylus whispers, leaning with you.        

You look at him. He looks back. “The plan is for hosts,” you scold, “not guests.” He’s much too close so you step away, reaching for the vase of daturas and holding them threateningly out, like you’re not afraid to use them. “Go back to the guests, deserter.”

Sylus lifts his hands in surrender, smirking in a way that says he knows he’s met his match. You shoo him further, back into enemy lines, then resume your stakeout. Xavier is sharing his own “embarrassing” medical story— talking about a time where he once passed out from exhaustion while fighting at your side, and you think it’s supposed to make Rafayel feel better.

It doesn’t, of course, and even Zayne is gazing down at the floor, self-conscious.

Sylus meets your eyes across the room, signals with a tip of his head: now's a good time for that master plan, sweetie.

Right. Your plan. Your master plan, yeah.

…

“You should have picked the doctor.”

Sylus’s words are near-silent: for you, not anyone else, and you pretend you don’t hear them. “But no,” he carries on, because he knows you can, “you just had to have the artist.”

“It’s Pictionary!” you snap, drawing all eyes in the room.

Lounging beside you, Sylus feigns an amused surprise, as though he hasn’t just been trying to elicit that exact reaction. On the other sofa, Zayne and Xavier stare, taken more genuinely aback. You give a smile of apology.

“Guys, concentrate!” Rafayel clicks his fingers at you. He’s stood in the centre of the space by a large drawing pad, and he goes back to frantically sketching on it. The drawing is… interesting. Abstract. Maybe even beautiful? But you don’t have a clue what it is.

“Thirty seconds,” warns Zayne, studying the little egg-timer he’s guarding.

You tilt your head at the drawing. There’s maybe a— wait, where did those extra colours come from? Where did he even get those pens? Anyway… there’s a circle. “A globe?” you guess. “Earth! No? Umm… oh! The sun! The moon!”

Rafayel shakes his head with every suggestion, adding even more intricate, unhelpful scribbles. Is that a fifth pen?! You nudge your other teammate, calling for back-up.

Sylus regards the drawing listlessly. “A unicorn.”

“What?!” Rafayel’s tone has reached a pitch that almost makes you wince. “No! C’mon, are you even trying?”

“No,” Sylus lilts with a pleasant smile, lifting the drink he’s been nursing to his lips.

You kick his foot. “A bowl of fruit!” you exclaim, determined to make up for the lack of enthusiasm. “A plate? A plate with food? Breakfast! Lunch! Dinner!”

“Time’s up,” Zayne interrupts, and it’s a mercy, really; you deflate with a sigh.

Rafayel puts his hands on his hips as he takes a step back to observe his work. He tucks four fine-liners back into his pocket— purses his lips as though he really can’t see a problem— and he’s keeping you all in suspense.

Sylus is up in an instant, stealing a card from where it’s been discarded on the coffee table. He reads the answer, then rolls his eyes. The original pen was also abandoned, so he plucks it up, then strides to the drawing pad.

He draws an oval. Then a triangle.

“A fish! A fish!” you cry out.

“You’re good at this, sweetie,” Sylus grins. He puts the lid on the pen with a click before dropping it into Rafayel’s hand.

“Is it my turn?” Xavier asks, trying to relieve the tension of the room. He gets up and smiles as Rafayel passes him the pen. “Your drawing is pretty. The composition is really—”

“Don’t,” Rafayel says. “Like, thanks? But don’t.”

“Fair enough,” Xavier chuckles.

You all prepare for the next round: Zayne handing you the egg-timer, Xavier re-organising the stack of prompt cards. Sylus takes a photo of the drawing pad before ambling back over— a moping Rafayel in tow— and they both sink down either side of you. You glance at the latter, giggling. “A fish, Raf? Really?”

“So I didn’t just wanna draw you some basic fish, ok?” The artist crosses his arms with a pout. “But fine, enjoy mediocrity, I guess.”

To your left, Sylus raises his glass in toast to the notion. There’s a noise: Xavier tearing the used page from the pad. You look up. “Xavier, can I have that?”

“Sure.” He brings it over to you.

You look at the drawing again, holding it at arm’s length and rotating it experimentally. You’re seeing a lot, but nothing that screams ‘fish’. There’s a circle, still. Oh! “It’s a fish bowl! Wait, wait, wait— is that Reddie?”

“Yeah!” Rafayel beams.

“Aww!”

The renewed team spirit drops off with Sylus; he’s on his phone, not paying attention. He seems to sense your scrutiny because he peers up, gives a ghost of a smile, then returns to whatever he’s doing. Meanwhile, Xavier is ready for his turn, so he signals for you to start the timer. You give him a thumbs up as you turn it over. “Go!”

He starts drawing.

“A car,” Zayne guesses after all of five seconds. Correct. Next. “A river? No. Oh. A snake.” Yes. “A cupcake?” Also yes. (In fairness, he was never going to struggle with that one.) “A person? Ok. Oh, a scientist, no? Ah, a doctor.” Yes again, and really— what?

Zayne continues to list correct answers, though thankfully, that’s the last of the coincidences. You watch on, vaguely in awe, until you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You check it casually, aware that Sylus is next to you, looking down at it too.

It’s a text from him: The drawing… Can I have it?

You glance up at him subtly, meeting his eyes and giving a discreet yet firm shake of your head. He frowns. You’re not having this debate here, now, so you let your gaze return to the drawing pad while idly retrieving your drink.

A few seconds later, there’s another text: Found buyer

Then another: Quarter of a mil

You almost choke on that drink.

“Umm… cutie?” Rafayel asks, poking you. He points at the timer you’ve left on the coffee table, and the top half is empty.

“Shit, yeah. That’s time!” you call.

Xavier stops drawing. The small, crude sketches behind him have reached double digits. He looks really proud. “Great! How many was that?”

His eyes find you. Zayne and Rafayel’s, too. Were you supposed to be counting? Uh—

“Eleven,” says Sylus, and it’s way too smug to be a lie.

“Awesome!” Xavier flips the drawing pad over to where you’ve been tallying point totals. He adds eleven marks to one side. “That’s—” he counts both— “ah, thirty-three to nine.”

A silence falls over the room. Unsure of what else to do, you give a half-hearted round of applause and Xavier laughs awkwardly, still humble, despite it all. “I think we’re kinda done with Pictionary, yeah?” you suggest, rising from your seat. “I should probably get started on food, anyway.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”

The insistence came from Xavier, and you freeze suspiciously; he’s never turned down free food.

“You’ve already done so much,” he explains, “setting this all up for us. You should relax, really! Leave it to me.”

The word ‘relax’ is not synonymous with the image of Xavier anywhere near your kitchen, but he’s looking at you so earnestly, blue eyes brimming with warmth, and what are you supposed to say? No thanks, Xavier— I value my life? Everyone’s watching you. Gods help you. “That’s really sweet, Xavier. Thanks.”

Your fellow Hunter’s smile widens even more. He heads off to the kitchen, a spring to his step that makes your heart sink with dread. “Actually—” you glance at your ex-teammates— “could you two go help him? Zayne and I’ll tidy up over here.”

Rafayel and Sylus do as they’re asked, even though their expressions remind you that cooking is not, typically, a three-man job. It’s tactical, though. You wanted a moment alone with Zayne. “Are you ok?” you ask, once the others are out of earshot. “I know this must all be a lot. The guys can be, well… yeah.”

He knows what you mean, right?

Zayne has slipped away from the couch; he’s crouched on the floor, collecting a few prompt cards that have wandered astray. He glances up at you, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “I’m ok,” he assures with a fond smile. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome.” He hands you the cards and you slot them back into their deck. Then you turn to the drawing pad. “You and Xavier make a good team, huh?”

The doctor straightens to his full height. “Mmm. It helped that we didn’t spend the entire game comparing the size of our… drawing abilities.” 

You laugh unashamedly. The pen’s still at-hand, so you pick it up— reward another point.

Zayne chuckles.

“Food’s gonna be a while.”

You both turn, following the voice back to Sylus, who has apparently decided he’s had his fill of kitchen duty. What was that— a minute? He seems to have anticipated your dissatisfaction, because he’s brought a bribe with him: the box of chocolates that had come with his bouquet. It’s already open and he holds it out, tempting you.

He’s right— you don’t know when you’ll next be eating— so you select a heart-shaped chocolate, popping it into your mouth with a smile and a muffled: “thanks.”

Sylus smiles back. Then he holds the box out to Zayne. “Doctor?”

It takes a nod of encouragement from you to prompt Zayne into taking something. He chooses a white chocolate truffle, mumbles his own thanks, but Sylus doesn’t relent— not yet. He shakes the box slightly, incitingly, and he doesn’t move it away until Zayne takes two more.

Your physician shoots you a surreptitious smile as Sylus falls back onto the couch, content he’s won your hearts, and that he won’t be sent back to the kitchen anytime soon. His long fingers lift another chocolate from the box, and he meets your eyes as he slips it slowly past his lips, humming like he’s enjoying himself.

You cross your arms, unimpressed. He gives you the least convincing look of innocence you’ve ever seen.

There’s an exclamation from the kitchen: “Hey, where did my flowers go!?” 

Shit. You hastily push the drawing pad aside then scurry over to assist Rafayel. You don’t have a plan, exactly; it’s not like you can help him look for them. “Umm… they’re around, Raf. I moved them somewhere safer, that’s all.”

“Where?”

“Uh—”

“Does it matter?” Sylus speaks from behind you, because he and Zayne are close at your heels. “She said they’re somewhere safe.” He leans on the kitchen island. “Don’t you trust her?”

Rafayel scoffs. “I trust her plenty.”

“So prove it. Drop it.”

“Skye,” you caution, “stop.”

Sylus does stop, but not because you asked. He’s done enough already, hasn’t he? Rafayel is bristling with indignance— a lit fuse— and behind him, Xavier sneakily checks the trash can, looking relieved at what he doesn’t find. He gives you a subtle glance: Where actually are the flowers?

You lift a shoulder an inch: Beats me!

There’s a soft, almost imperceptible crackle, and it draws your eyes to the vase of daturas between you all. They’ve caught light— their petals twisting, darkening, within larger flowers of fire.

“Rafayel!” you gasp. “No, no, no, the fire alarm!”

The torched flowers are encased, all of a sudden, in a fine layer of shimmering frost. Sylus blinks down at them, unmoved by their destruction. Zayne’s hand is still outstretched, snowflakes etched over his palm. Then something… odd happens. The ice doesn’t stop. It spreads over the rest of the kitchen island, to all of your bewilderment.

“Zayne?” Your voice is fraught with worry, but you don’t give a damn about your kitchen.

The man winces, and you so rarely see him out of control. The silver-white patterns have crawled up his wrist, and the ice continues to spread; even Sylus steps back. Sharp, jagged crystals start to form— inching out towards everyone.

“Zayne!” you try again.

His chest rises as he drags air through his teeth; it looks like it hurts, but the ice does stop. The others are still, suspended by momentary uncertainty, and you rush to Zayne’s side, taking his hand.

“What the hell was that?” Rafayel remarks, shaking away his surprise and thawing an icicle that’s way too close for comfort.

“He wouldn’t have needed to use his Evol if you hadn’t used yours.”

It’s Xavier, strangely— you would have expected Sylus. The Hunter’s tone is gentle as always, but there’s something behind it, this time: a frustration that lends an edge.

Rafayel hears it too. “Hey, I’m not the one who started this!” He points to Sylus. “He—”

“Has been lighting fires all evening,” Xavier finishes. “But at least his were only figurative.”

Sylus laughs, and it’s the kind of laugh where you just know he’s vying to make things worse. “Look at that,” he says, “the boy next door can bite.”

Xavier’s eyes sharpen. Beside you, Zayne slips his hand from yours. It’s an instinct you know well. This moment is volatile, and you have to be ready. It could go a dozen different ways; it’s just waiting for a spark.

“Guys,” you manage to get out, “please, just… everyone, take a breath, ok? Everything’s fine, we just have to—”

A spark.

There’s smoke. Actual smoke. “Xavier, behind you!” Zayne alerts.

It’s creeping out of the oven and Xavier turns— eyes wide— to open its door before any of you can stop him. Thicker smoke billows out, filling the air, and you all scramble away from it. The fire alarm triggers. You think Rafayel’s shouting something, but you can’t really hear him. Then Sylus is shouting. Maybe even Zayne. The alarm is piercing your ears and making you dizzy— or is it the smoke?

You feel a hand on your shoulder and suddenly everything changes.

There’s cool air, brushing over your skin, and it’s dark; you’re outside the building. You can still hear the alarm, shrill but further away, and your window is easy to spot: there’s a red light flashing behind it. Sylus leans into your vision, saying your name.

“Stay here,” he tells you, “alright?”

He’s gone in another moment, lost to a flicker of crimson-black darkness.

Gods, you’re so stupid.

…

You sit on a short wall outside of your building, and the street is full of people. You recognise most of them: neighbours. Every single one is mad at you. You’re all waiting for the alarm to cut out— for the all-clear to be given. The fire wasn’t that serious in the end, but there’s still a procedure. You would know; this isn’t exactly your first evacuation.

The guys are safe, which is good, because it means you can kill them later. They’ve all gotten lost in the throng, and your neighbours can keep them. Maybe they’ll kill them for you.  

“Hey, cutie.”

You were staring down at your feet, but you look up at Rafayel’s voice. He’s coming towards you, evoking a sense of déjà vu, because he’s clutching a bouquet of flame lilies. That’s… the bouquet of flame lilies. How?

“Skye gave ‘em back to me,” he explains, chuckling at your expression, and he’s close enough now to hold the flowers out to you. “I don’t know where he was keeping them. His Evol’s weird, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say timidly, taking the bouquet and gazing down into the petals; they still smell sweet.

Rafayel sits next to you, shuffling close, and he leans his head on your shoulder with a tired sigh. You want to be mad at him. You really, really do— but you’re suddenly not.

“I’m sorry, Rafayel.” The admission barely makes it out of your throat.

You feel his head lift. “You’re sorry?”

“I know it was just a misunderstanding,” you speak into the flowers, “but tonight… wasn’t what you were expecting, I get it. I mean, I kinda threw you into the deep end with all this. You didn’t know you were gonna be around other people, and I—”

“Whoa— cut that out, yeah? You’re killing me, cutie. I spend the whole evening causing trouble, and you’re gonna take all the blame? Nope. Not happening. It was a collaborative effort at least, ok?”

You giggle. “Ok.”  

“Good.” His head slumps back down on your shoulder, and yours tilts to rest against it. “Thanks, though. Really,” he whispers, so quiet you almost don’t notice.

Footsteps and familiar voices draw you from the intimacy of the moment. The others are wandering back to you, having finally escaped the veritable mob of your neighbours. They all look tired.

Xavier settles down on the other side of you, and Zayne sits beside him. Sylus takes a seat next to Rafayel with a huff, but he’s not half as unhappy as he’s pretending to be.

All of you sit in silence, gazes flitting between your window— where there are still glimpses of moving figures— and everyone else who’s been evacuated. For the first time all evening, the quiet isn’t tense. It’s peaceful. Easy.

“We’ll do better next time,” Zayne speaks softly.

Next time? You scoff. “Do any of you actually want there to be a next time?”

“I had fun,” Sylus chuckles. He’s taken his coin from his pocket, and he flips it, amusing himself.

“I had fun too,” Xavier grins.

“Cooking again, Xavier?” quips one of your neighbours, as they happen to pass by.

The man beside you laughs, but you can tell it’s forced. Your hand finds his; you give it a little squeeze, letting him know that it wasn’t his fault. His heart was in the right place. It’s always in the right place.

You nudge Rafayel away from you so you can sit up straighter, your free hand rubbing your arm, caressing prickled skin. You’re about to ask for a jacket when something heavy drapes over your shoulders. It’s a coat— still warm— and its owner is stood behind you; you didn’t even notice him get up.

“Thanks, Sylus,” you smile.

All eyes turn to you. What are they—?

Oh.

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

IYCRTTBFO - Joel Miller x reader

Summary/ warmings: dbf! Joel is also a cam model, a lot of masturbation, a lot of dirty talk, nudes, light(ish) daddy kink, sex toy mentions, and use, cunnilingus, filming, creampies, at least two references to Wheeler Walker Jr. songs, big fat age gap, Sara delegated to Joel's niece, author loves dilfs, especially this one, author entered a fugue state and this emerged

You couldn't sleep. It started at college, when you were working part-time while doing your masters thesis. Your night shift ended at 2.30 in the morning. Then, by the time you went to bed, you were struggling to shake off the buzzing energy. Your body was tired, and your mind was elsewhere. So you turned to the only true, tried and tested method of getting yourself to sleep. Masturbation. Low effort, porn video you've already watched, finger rubbing your clit, masturbation. It worked for about a week. Then your "sessions" got longer. And longer. You had to spend an hour now, chasing your orgasm. Begging yourself to cum. Getting more frustrated and then practically passing out like a log. You got good sleep out of it. But also it was getting painful. Your clit would hurt, a short stabbing pain taking your mind off of your thesis critique. Not that you were too keen on hearing about the feedback on your research model. So you were going to quit, cold turkey style. On the one hand, your insomnia persisted. Now you had replaced porn with your self assigned reading. But that did not help you sleep, just made you more cranky. Your cycadian rhythm was fucked beyond belief. So you moved through life half- asleep, always spending your days off napping. Morning meetings were rough and when you slept through an internship interview at 1, you knew enough was enough.

Back to flicking the bean to not be mean. You just figured you needed a change of scenery, so to speak. You considered OnlyFans, ready to be shelling out your hard earned cash for tasteful nudes (perhaps those of Markiplier or something like that). But that wouldn't be personal enough. You tried audio stuff, but the JOIs weren't really catered to you. Yes, they had your kinks. Or the pet names you liked. But never together, never quite enough. And call it conditioning, but you wanted something familiar. A certain Austin draw, a slice of the Texas you were far away from. But alas, your cowboy was not on Quinn or soundgasm. So you went old-school.

Girls like you weren't even supposed to know about camming sites. It was such a retro thing, more of your father's and Joel's generation. But it was thanks to the former's inability to delete a browser history that you were here. The landing page of the website was fine. You had to make the choice of looking at women, men, couples, or the trans category. Craving to see a solo cumshot, you click on "male". You should've expected that even here, it would be geared towards other guys, like most porn was. The tags of the rooms said it all. Anal. Fuckmachine. Party. But as you refreshed the home page again, someone caught your eye. It was a guy in a cowboy hat over his face. His tip goal was simple, promising a glimpse of him shirtless. It was the amount of tokens needed that amazed you, it was so high. Seriously, from your little time on the website, you could see this was a bit too self assured. But he was getting there. You clicked the video, morbid curiosity taking over. This and his username of thicktexanbeercan. A man after your own heart.

People flood in, apparently the red color of their usernames means they're part of a fan club? You wanna learn more, so you click through the whole thing. The "cam boy" or "cam man" or whatever you were supposed to call him was just welcoming people. There were other newbies like you because you were half-listening to him explaining about his mic.

"You can hear me so clearly cause I have it clipped to my neck on a fucking chocker. Which you guys should've let die in the 90s btw." You're looking at his tags of #monster cock, #daddy, #master and #orgasmguide. And when someone voices your thought of "some of us weren't even born in the 90s." you found out why. He reads it out and snorts.

"Look at you, so young and already a pathetic little pervert watching older men. What, daddy didn't love you enough, babydoll? So now you gotta come here at night and tune into me stroking my cock for you. Wishing you were on your knees, trying to take it in your bratty little mouth?". The donations explode. The sound effects of coins reverberate through your headphones. The goal is met and the stream has been on for only 15 minutes. You can't see him smile, but you can feel it, by the way his shoulders relax.

"You're such a good girl tonight, spoiling your old man. So needy, already wanting me to take off my clothes. I will, little slut, just let daddy take care of something first." He rolls his chair to the desk and takes his keyboard. You chuckle at the faded and yellowed stickers on it, they vaguely reminded you of something. The man can touch type and you've never wanted to be a pair of keys more in your life. The goal's adjusted, promising whipped cream on his chest. As he fiddles with the camera angles and wonders aloud how to best give you a show, you hover to his bio tab. The man intrigues you. Under real name, he put “Can't tell you, but my screen name is a pun”, so you guess it's Bud or even Sam Addams. His age is listed as late 40s, and when you see a glimpse of his salt and pepper chest hair, it makes sense.

This guy intrigues you. Instead of rubbing one out, you're scrolling further. There's pictures and videos. While there's one of him wearing assless chaps for free (which quickly gets saved to your phone gallery), the rest is behind a paywall. Videos of him cumming or even simple things like doing push-ups. Your palms are itching and you know your payday is coming soon. But before you end up buying a filthy mp4, you go back to the stream.

Somehow, he had made taking off a flannel sexy. Rubbing his fingers against his chest. Touching his happy trail. Then someone in the chat asked, "How much to see the good stuff?" He reads it out, chuckles, and presses a few keys, making a tip menu appear in the chat. It has the usual stuff, promises of flashing his cock or flexing his biceps. C2C and PMs (which you had learned stood for cam to cam and private messages). Then, was the more personal stuff. Nudes rating (5 photos), praise, degradation, ddlg. He clearly knew what people wanted. Was it what he craved as well, you wondered? Then came "the goods" the other person was probably talking about. Jerking off, cumming, even using a vibrator or a fleshlight on himself.

You wondered how long it would take to see the self-described "thicktexanbeercan.". But thanks to someone just as horny as you, if not more, it would be almost immediately. When the tip for "jerking off" came through, he said the person's username and then asked, "How do I thank you, using my southern charm or Austin dirtbag style?"

When the person replied with "dirtbag style," also my pronouns are she/they."he presumably glanced at the message. Probably keeping eye contact with the camera, he reaches for his belt.

"Thank you for being horny, I guess. Desperate little thing, that doesn't like to wait. Impatient darling, needing to see daddy pump his cock for you. Gonna show you exactly what you wanna see, baby.". The belt is on the ground and his jeans are around his ankles. Never did you think that a guy simply taking off his pants would be so hot. Your gaze trails from his delicious thighs to his boxers. Holy shit, even by his outline you can tell that his username isn't an exaggeration.

He pulls it out and it's the prettiest and biggest cock you've ever seen. His hand wraps around it, one slow pump he thrust into, back arching. Then he folds one arm behind his head and turns straight into the camera. You like the mystery, but wish he would show his face. His voice is breathy, he obviously likes what he's doing. And his thrusts are speeding up.

His chat is going crazy, tokens pouring in.

"You like what you see, huh? Bet you're aching to touch yourself, too. Go on, spread your pretty legs for me, and give me a show, too.". Before you know it, you're following his instructions. Pajama pants quickly pulled down, you touch yourself. And God damn, are you wet. You're fucking dripping, for this stranger on the internet. You don't have time to be embarrassed. You trail a finger against your opening, gathering the slick. Then you touch your clit, rubbing it slow and then gradually speeding up. But it's so much more intense, it's fucking electric. You glance at the clock on your phone. Look back at the man on the stream, his chest, his cock. And in a minute you're cumming. Eyes closed, pussy getting tighter and clenching around nothing orgasm. You close the stream, mortified. You go to bed and have the best sleep of your life.

By the next stream, you have an account, and you follow him. He acknowledges that, and you're tempted to already start touching yourself. But it's a Friday night, you've promised yourself that weekends are for yourself. Seeing that you pushed for Saturdays off, one would think you'd need to be up, bright and early, and going somewhere. But not this time. You had planned a slow day, where you catch up on laundry and read. But before the weekend was this. You caught on to today's stream a bit too late. Your cowboy (a middle-aged man that probably didn't know you existed) was already shirtless. He had a loofah and a mug filled with water next to him.

"One of y'all suggested I try temporary tattoos. Now, I had to go to the grocery store and get weird looks as I pumped quarters in a machine. So you better enjoy them. Or actually, if I find good ones online, I'm adding them to the wishlist.". He moves off camera and holds up two sheets of temporary tattoos, very tribal and barbed wire inspired. The other is surprisingly butterflies and unicorns.

He unbuttons his pants and lowers his boxers. You can see just the tip, straight as a ram rod. You can't help but wonder if he gets off on being watched. Your head gets filled with fantasies of him and you. Embarrassingly you're picturing him pulling out his pecker in a mundane place like Walmart and fucking you in the aisles. Maybe you just need to do better groceries, you think looking at the takeout bag from the restaurant you just spent 8 hours in. There were enough chicken nuggets in there to feed a family. You get your mind back in the gutter when the performer moans. You stare at the screen. His torso is covered in the temporary tattoo, and he's strategically placed the barbed wire around his nipples. As he drags the wet loofah against his pelvis, he groans.

"God, this is cold. Wish you were here, to warm up my cock. With your mouth or cunt or ass. Filling you so well."

This time, you come before he's even pulled out his dick. Yet you keep watching. A second orgasm gets squeezed out of you later, with the help of your dildo. When "beercan" reaches a crazy tip goal, he fucks his fleshlight. He's merciless, using the pocket pussy like a cocksleeve, whispering the most obscene stuff.

"You like that? You like it when daddy fucks you like this. Of course you do. You're so tight for me, yet you take my big cock so well. Trained you well, didn't I? Made my own little whore, that needs my cum. Beg for it.". And you do, miles away from this stranger. You orgasm with him, sex toy deep inside of you. He cums and makes the stream watch as he cleans the fleshlight with the same loofah he used earlier.

That stream basically breaks you. For some reason two intense orgasm equal a very productive day then. You're a new person. You study and work better and no longer need to fuck yourself to sleep. That you stranger whose name is Bud or Sam Addams or Miller. Not that you drink the latter anyway, so it never crosses your mind. After all, Joel is older, in his mid 50s. But what he's not above is lying on the internet. Using the world wide web to show his nasty bits to the world. And what he'd soon realize is that his best friend's daughter isn't too.

After finishing your masters thesis, you come to the harrowing reality that there's no jobs for you here. And then comes your dad's constant pestering to come home. You reject him at first. There's nothing left for you in Texas anymore, besides the family house. But then, a former high school mentor posts a job opening on their Instagram story. And it's perfect for you, aside from the fact it's in Austin. You off handedly mention it to your parents, after immediately applying. You don't expect to get it. But with interviews and all, you do. They even allow you to start a bit later, making sure you work off your part-time job shifts.

So you take the plunge and buy plane tickets. There's only one problem. The flight is so early that you'd practically have to leave your empty apartment at 4 in the morning. So you decide to pull an allnighter. You're not sure how you end up back on the chat room site. You don't even know if "thicktexanbeercan" still cams. But as you click on the page, you get a notification that he's in a live show. Feeling bold tonight, you know you wanna be a bit more adventurous. Call it what you will, but you need a shake-up. After so much uncertainty, you need to do something so out of character.

You feel the money in your pocket burns a hole in it. Yes, packing your stuff and sending it back wasn't cheap. Nor was the last-minute plane ticket (even with Spirit airlines). But you had sold a lot of your things, gotten your rental deposit back, and got your days off comped as overtime. So you were, technically, on the flipside. Now, responsible people would put that into savings. You were spending it on tokens. You wanted to be seen. So you tipped for "nudes review." Truth is, ever since your last partner in freshman year of college, it was a string of bad hookups and boring first dates. No one had seen you naked in a while. But that didn't mean you didn't have nudes. Nope, you liked taking shots of yourself in compromising positions. After all, your pretty lingerie deserved to be shown off.

So you mindlessly sent over 4 shots via the opened pm option. He moves a large IPad in front of his face to obscure it. His ever-present cowboy hat is moved to his head as he stares at your pictures. He strokes his cock, at his usual fast pace.

"Jesus fuck, darling, aren't you a treasure. Look at that ass, so perky. It would look good in red, after I'm done with you. Let's see the next one, oh, you're doing the hand bra thing. Need someone to fondle your tits, huh. Don't worry, I'd grope them for you. Put my mouth on them, tease your sensitive nipples. Fuck, let's see the third. Damn, you're stark fucking naked. What a little whore you are, showing me everything. Don't know if I wanna think about your boobs again or your hips or your pussy. Might just stick around and look at it. Only one more, okay. Fuck, that's my favorite one, doll. Even though you should've been more careful. You forgot to crop out your face. I can see your needy expression as you're rubbing your clit. Hand in your lacy black panties, must have been a special night. Who in their right mind would have let you go instead of fucking you right against the mirror you're using as a prop. Don't worry, I'll make it right. I'll give you a tribute, right here. How's that sound, darling? You want this old man to cover your photo with his cum in front of thousands of people?".

Any fear or shame you've had is long gone. You don't only want that, you need it. You type a "please, daddy" in the chat. His groan fills your headphones. He fumbles, balancing his hat on his nose. For the first time, you see a glimpse of his face. His tongue wets his lips as he zooms on the iPad, making sure that others only see from your chest down. He jerks his cock over it, painting his screen with spurts of his cum.

"That was intense, think I'll put you on hold for a bit. It's been a while since a first orgasm drained me like that. Daddy will be back soon." He says and pauses the broadcast. Truth is, his cock would be hard again in a minute. It was the fact that he came to you that was haunting him. His best friend's daughter. A girl who was younger than his niece. A woman who was coming back to Texas after leaving as a 19 year old. Then you were still awkward and Joel would never look at you twice. You were a child, for God's sake. But now, some years later you had shed your baby face. You were a fucking bombshell. And he was about to implode.

After a whirlwind rest of the stream, you go to the airport and catch your flight. Despite being a full-grown adult, your parents insist on picking you up. You're back in your childhood bedroom, surrounded by boxes of your new life. You notice that some stuff from before is missing.

"Hey dad, where's the old blueetoth keyboard we bought when the laptop was on the fritz? Might need it for work." You ask. You're sure you can easily write down notes on your phone or on paper. But there was something satisfying about hooking up your old iPad to a keyboard and typing. Maybe it's the fact that it got you through college twice that has you feeling sentimental. Maybe it's the truth that your parents didn't know you bought it, and now you had to use it daily to justify spending money on it. Either way, your dad replied with

"Oh, I gave that to Joel. He said he was starting some new call center job and needed it. Working on European projects, so he's always busy at night. Must pay a pretty penny, he's always got packages on his doorstep. You should see his new pickup truck too, she's a beauty." Your father said.

"Didn't need the whole prologue, dad. Can you just get it back?" You ask.

"Now come on honey, you're a grown woman. You can go over and ask him yourself. He's not gonna eat you." Your dad insists, and you have to agree. With a resigned "At least text him and tell him I'm on the way.", you go. There's no use arguing. You can not explain to your dad that when you were 19, you wanted nothing more than Joel taking your virginity. That now, years after, you still wouldn't mind a sip of that can of Miller.

One of the reasons your dad and Joel were friends was the fact that you could get to the latter's house in about 15 minutes. You're there in less, ringing the doorbell and waiting. Joel emerges in a moss green bathrobe and grey sweatpants. His hair is tousled, and it's obvious that he was sleeping. You'd feel bad if he didn't greet you with a

"What the fuck do you want, I ain't buying anything. Oh. It's you. Hey, kiddo.". Your eyes go to the mat on his front porch, but not before taking in his cock. Was he hard? Had you interrupted an intimate moment? You mumble something about "wireless keyboard" and "borrowing it back, please" when he leads you in. If he had a lady friend, she was as quiet as a church mouse.

"It's in the guest room. Had to convert into a sort of home office, after getting a desk job, so many years as a contractor. Got hard on my back. Wanted to enjoy doing nothing, then Sara got knocked up again. Just like Tommy, both of them can't stop having kids. So now I have to be rich gruncle Joel. And I don't know why I'm telling you this instead of just getting the keyboard." He says. Joel pops in, but he doesn't close the door all the way. Peeking in through the hole, it seems familiar. Like you've seen it before, but recently. You shrug off the deja vu and take the keyboard from him. But as he hands it to you, familiar stickers facing you, you piece it together.

"Thicktexanbeercan" had the same one. And you recognized it because you "decorated" it as a sticker obsessed teen. There was no way. Mr. Miller was not camming. You had not orgasmed to him dirty talking to you. And most importantly, he had not come all over a photo of your tits. It was just a huge, cosmic coincidence. But there was only one way to find out.

The wait until your first paycheck was too long, yet you had to endure. There is no way you were taking money out of your savings to fulfill possibly Joel's wishlist. So when that sum hit your bank account, you expertly navigated to thicktexanbeercan's page. Clicking on the shop icon, you choose to ignore that the man is selling his nudes, his underwear, and his socks. Though tempted by the Polaroids of his cock, you move on. You buy the custom temporary tattoos, a callback to a previous stream. Your pussy twitches at the memory and you're quick to suppress your urges. You send your "requirements" to the Amazon seller and hope they get them ready soon. You also secretly order some for yourself, shipping them to a friend's house. You start tuning into the streams regularly, watching them all the way through. Your coworkers have the grace to not comment. Especially since the nightly nsfw is always in the background of something else. So you're doing research on one screen, while listening to maybe Joel call you a nasty whore for watching him.

TGIF was never your thing, until this one. Your cowboy walked in with a package, his address dutifully scribbled out. He opens it and out comes the sheet of temporary tattoos.

"Oh, someone's been watching me for some time, huh. Can't get enough of me inked. Well, I aim to please, so let's get this show on the road.". Beercan undresses to his boxers and starts examining the tattoos.

"Whoever picked these out is one creative motherfucker. I like them.". He starts showing them off to the camera, chuckling about the "save a horse, ride a cowboy" and subsequently the "don't ride a horse, but I'm hung like one". But one in particular makes him tick.

"Your throat goes here? Really, sweetheart? You expect me to walk around with that, to make you all see it as I stroke my cock for you? Fuck it, it's my job to give you a good show." He peels off two of those and places them on the space between his thumb and pointer finger. Was he? He was. Thicktexanbeercan was gonna live up to his name, by using both hands to jerk off.

He's fast, wanting this to end. His Friday shows weren't that popular, so no use milking it. Now, on Saturdays, that's when most people tune in. It's better to save his stamina for then. But you and the chat had other plans. You had mobilized them as he was busy answering questions earlier. Now, he would get enough tokens for a cumshot. Maybe Joel really aims to please. So he goes for it, double orgasm, sure. Then, as soon as that one's over, another. He barks at the chat that he doesn't like being bossed around like that. But you have him cumming until he's shooting blanks. After he just shuts off the stream and goes to bed after running a wet towel on his stomach, to wipe off the cum.

Less than 8 hours later, there's a constant ring of his doorbell. He opens and you're standing there, looking so fuckable his cock stands to attention. You're wearing a skimpy outfit and your lips are shiny with a pinkish gloss. But that doesn't stop him from wondering why you're gracing his doorstep like an angel sent straight from hell.

“I need help picking out a present for my dad.” You say.

“Sweetpea, I know you've been away for a while, but that doesn't change the fact that your dad's birthday isn't for months.” he replies.

"I know. It's not for that. I fucked up and broke something of his. Can you help me?" You ask.

"Sure, what do you need from me?" He counters.

"I think I wanna be stereotypical and get him something stereotypically dad-like. Like a craft beer, something he can crack open with the boys. And since you're "the boys," I'm here. Need a recommendation for a thick Texan beercan." You watch him react. He twitches like a rabbit spooked by a stick snapping.

"So you know. But I'm sure your parents wouldn't be thrilled by the fact that you're watching porn. Have you ever donated, I wonder. Bought something with their hard earned money. Straight from your father's wallet to your daddy." Joel counters, not missing the way your eyes glaze over when he calls yourself your daddy. But you are not won over so easily.

"You're a liar. Late 40s, my ass. Late 40s when you last had to change your ID or what? I could expose you. I'm sure the girlies and the rest watching you would love to know they were scammed. Tinder swindler, but worse."

"What do you want?" He tries.

"As Lana del Rey said, put me in the movie. Let me be in a video." You demand.

"Come back at night, around 9. Get something to cover your face too. Don't need someone recognizing you." He says.

You follow his instructions like an obedient puppy. You make up excuses to your parents. Your cunt's shaved, your outfit is complete and you're not wearing underwear. Joel drags you in, literally. He looks at the pink cowboy hat you have in hand and chuckles.

"No saying my name, preferably not saying much. Just follow my lead, and I'll make you feel good. If you wanna stop, what do you say?" He lists clinically.

"Light beer," you say, acknowledging the pun behind his moniker. You should've figured this out way earlier.

He half laughs, half looks disappointed at your bad pun. You know he's gonna get you back for this , sooner or later. You just desperately hope it's with his dick.

Joel starts the stream. He makes you sit in his chair as he gets a bit closer to the camera. You can see him, mic clipped to chocker and all. He speaks to his chat, introducing you as a "special cowgirl guest.".

"Bet you all wanna take her place. I'm sure she can tell you all about it. If she can speak after I'm done with her anyway." He continues. You wanna protest, to bite back with a comment. But he crawls between your legs, placing kisses up to your pussy. And you are speechless. The fact that you can see him, dark brown eyes and gorgeous roman nose is too much. He's even revealing the top of his greying hair. You grip it and bring him closer to your center. He chooses to lick and suck your clit instead and you moan so loud, even the felt of your hat doesn't muffle it.

"Gonna make you extra wet so you can take my cock, doll. Would you like that?" He asks and you reply with "yes, daddy". You can hear him extra crisp, the audio bouncing around the room. It's all too much, every fantasy of yours coming to life. You come against him, riding it out.

"You ready for more, my little fuckdoll? Can I?" He asks. You plead, you tell him you need him.

Joel makes sure to zoom the camera to your sopping cunt, showing you off to the chat. He fiddles with it, making sure it captures your greed. He sits on the chair, swatting your ass to get you up. Legs trembling, you do. He unzips his jeans, the sound as familiar to you as a notification on your phone. He puts it against you, just to give his viewers a preview on how deep he was gonna be in you.

"You think I'll fuck her up. Make this pussy memorize the shape of my cock. Let's give this pretty doll her first cervix bruising, shall I?" He says. He slides his cock in you in one swoop motion, not caring about the stretch.

"Just like that." You moan, dangerously close to saying his name. Joel spreads your legs and fucks into you. He's all grunts and swears, gone is his dirty talk. His hands are grabby, squeezing your thighs. He's so pussy whipped that he says

"Let me come inside you. Please. Need to.". The "yes, yes, daddy" is enough for him to do so and continue thrusting in you until he's soft. Joel rolls the chair forward, "manually zooming" his camera. His audience gets a pretty shot of his cum dripping out of you before the broadcast cuts out. He helps you up and draws a bath. If the camming paid for the clawfoot tub you saw, hell you'd join in more.

"You know, what we did was wrong. But it sure as hell felt right. I'm not saying we should do this daily. But maybe instead of both of us getting off on each other from afar, we can do it together." He asks, almost a schoolboy confession.

“Yes Joel, I wanna fuck you again too. Now shut and let me enjoy my life after taking your thick Texan beercan.”

[nightlyrequiem]

Would it be possible to get Valeria with a homebody writer (specifically romance writer maybe) partner?

This is totalllly not self indulgent at all, but I feel like the scenario you write where she broke into the readers house (which I loved btw) and becomes her stowaway would probably be the only way they meet lol, it's also possible that she could see the writer in a coffeeshop somewhere and have a meet cute but that doesn't really seem like her style to me :(

Feel free to change this up in any way you want I'm just throwing my ideas out from my mind palace

Yeah, I feel like meeting Valeria would be a little difficult unless it was some kind of home invasion type of scenario. Meet Cutes aren't her style sadly

Tags/Warnings: Kidnapping, WLW, Reader Gets Knocked Around, Fangirl Valeria

Meet Cute

Human error is unavoidable, like misspelling a word or grammatical errors. Even with a proof-reader, things are bound to slip past notice. Mistakes will be made eventually, no matter how careful a person is. You're tossed to the cement floor harshly, pain blossoming in your ribs from the impact. The sac over your head prevents you from seeing anything. Your ears ring, making it impossible to make out the low muttering of male voices.

No one is truly aware of how quickly things can change. Having four walls and a door often provides one with a false sense of security. Of safety. You thought you were safe. You were a bit reclusive. Preferring to be inside where the variables of life are easier to control. Even in a city like Las Almas. The environment that night was perfect for writing. Dark and slightly stormy. You were curled up on your couch, laptop in your lap with inspiration flowing from your pores. The first draft for your latest sapphic romance novel was almost completed.

Without any warning your front door was kicked open. The locks proving to be completely useless. You screamed and fought as masked men stormed inside. However, it was a short-lived battle. One punch to the temple was all it took to take the fight from you.

You're not given any time to catch your breath or get your bearings. Your grabbed by rough hands and dragged somewhere else. You're lifted and placed into a chair, hands tied behind you. Footsteps fade as the men leave you bound and blind. The only sound now being your own breathing and the frantic beating of your heart.

Waiting is the worst part. The dread of what's to come will never compare to what will actually happen. You're never going to finish your book. The second in your series. Your readers will never get to know what happens to the two main leads. Maybe it's your writing that got you here. You had gotten death threats before. As well as other types. As was the risks of writing the things you do. The situation almost reminds you of the story you posted to the internet when you were too young to be on it. A flawlessly witty girl is kidnapped by a stereotypically masculine guy. They fall in love.

You doubt there will be any love here though. Love doesn't flourish where death and decay feast. Finally, you hear footsteps approaching. Firm and confident. The door slides open and people enter, the room becoming heavy with tension.

"You thought you'd get away with stealing, hm?" A woman asks. You frown. You don't recall stealing anything. "Thought you were smarter than me?"

The bag is ripped from your head, and you recoil at how bright the lights are. You blink at the sight of the visibly angry woman in front of you. Reeking of violence and danger. Maybe it's because of all the questionable romantic leads you've written but there's something alluring about her. Though her being attractive doesn't make you less frightened.

She almost looks as confused as you feel. Brows furrowed into a frown. She says your name, which doesn't bode well for you.

"... I didn't steal from you." You say softly. Hoping to pacify the situation. "At least not knowingly, if I did I can replace it or give it back." You promise. The woman doesn't respond, just continues to gawk at you.

The silent staring is beginning to get uncomfortable. The two men she brought with her exchange confused glances. Clearly something isn't going the way it should.

"You wrote Stardust." She says finally. Your face warms with embarrassment. You're proud of what you write but it still feels... weird to have people talk about it. You furrow your brows. You didn't think a woman that looks like her would be in your audience.

"... Yeah, I uh, did." You nod awkwardly.

She puts her gun back into its holster. "I have all your books." She says. Surprising you.

The woman turns to the men beside her. 

"This isn't the right woman you fucking idiots! I even gave you a picture how did you mess up?" She hisses at them. You almost deflate with relief at those words. A mistake. A simple case of human error. "Get out." She snaps. The men nod and leave quickly. Ashamed or afraid that they messed up. She turns back to you with an appraising eye.

"... Do you like them?" You ask.

Her brows furrow. "What?"

"My books." You clarify nervously. 

She walks behind you.

"One of my guilty pleasures is romance," She starts. "it's a nice escape from the grueling, bloody reality of my life."

"That's... nice." You reply. She didn't really answer your question.

"I'm picky though, I'll drop a book easily if the characters do something I think is stupid."

Oh. She's probably going to chastise you for writing idiots - which admittedly, you have. In some of your earlier books. The ropes loosen, freeing your hands.

"But I like the way you write people." She praises. "They're realistically stupid."

You bring your hands to your lap and inspect your wrists. The soft skin is a little red.

"Oh, thank you." You say, blinking gratefully. She walks back in front of you.

"This was a misunderstanding." She says, voice soft and placating. You look at her and wonder if this is a trick. You rise to your feet.

"All good." You smile. Though it's actually not all good. You're shaken. Your home was broken into and you were kidnapped. However, saying that might not bode over well.

"... So is Stardust getting a sequel?" She asks, narrowing her eyes at you.

She has a very intense stare. You have to look away because staring into her dark brown eyes is starting to make you uncomfortable.

"I'm in the process of writing it, actually." You tell her. "Well, the draft."

She continues to stare at you. "Do you think you could add me into the book?"

You frown. "Yeah, sure I could do that." You nod reluctantly. This woman scares you and you'd hate to disappoint her.

"I shouldn't tell you my name, but I just love you and your writing so much," She admits. "I'm Valeria."

You nod.

"Valeria." You repeat. "Nice to meet you, I suppose."

Valeria nods and cracks a small smile. "Great. Why don't I take you home now then?" She says, herding you towards the door. You try to protest against that, not really wanting her to know where you live. Though considering her people had taken you from your home in the first place, she probably already knows. Your words fall on deaf ears. Valeria is determined to escort you home safely. Wanting to spend a little one on one time with her favourite author.

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part vi

✧.* it seems you slowly but finally get your old self back, making lando insecure as your new found confidence catches the eyes of more than one driver.

✧.* boosting girlies confidence before we ruin it again, just a little filler. this is just a feel good part for girlie and some struggling for lando. This is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

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y/nusername

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly and 467,652 others

y/nusername live, laugh, love or something like that. ☀️

tagged: landonorris

view all 772 comments

julliettax I have to remind myself daily that I am in fact a straight married woman and that y/n is in fact a straight woman in a relationship and I'll never have a chance 🥵

simonsbat lando norris you lucky son of a bitch

patrishaaa y'all looking for a third?

norrizz 4th picture?!?! 😭

norry4 I know right?! Need someone to grab me like that (preferably lando but we've lost him) 😭

lan4lan well...they still together I see 🤮

milliewilde I hope lando can fight because my girl's been looking a little too good lately 😭

cecilemoulin you looking like a whole snack

hamilt44n GIRL DINNER GIRL DINNER

y/ncecile1 have you looked at yourself lately? 😍

charleeess16 crying at Pierre and Carlos creeping in her likes 😂

Hannahh we all know Pierre and Carlos are not liking this post because of lando..right? 💀

landonorris 😍😍

landoscar biggest simp on the grid

bott_ass if my girl looked like that..I would be the biggest simp too!

carlossainz55 🔥 🔥

carlandooo mans saw his ex getting her post red-bull glow up and remembered the good old days 😭

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y/nusername posted to their story

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mclaren

liked by landonorris, cecilemoulin and 199,762 others

mclaren front row locked in 🔒 P1 and P2 for the best team on the grid! 🧡

tagged: y/nusername, landonorris

view all 356 comments

mclarennorris oh we're so back!

charlos16 never ever did I think I'd see the day max verstappen gets out qualified let alone by his own teammate 😂

y/nluvv y/n had a shit ton of poles last season but red bull always fucked up her races..

landonorr now bring it back home pls

norrizz if y/n really loves lando, she'd let him have his first win tomorrow 😭

michael90 best team on the grid for sure!

hamilt44n getting y/n back on the team was definitely the right move! Lando doesn't have to carry the team on his back all by himself anymore.

maxfewtrell absolutely mental, those are my friends

fewtrelllando I saw your live stream, dude was about to cry happy tears 😂 sorry about your girlfriend not making it into q2 though 😔

maxmaxmax GIRLFRIEND?!

fewtrelllando yeah Cecile..still a rumor but they're together in my head lmfao..we out here being delulu on the main

thomasgoms absolute legends 🔥

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y/nusername

liked by pierregasly, milouberger and 462,751 others

y/nusername saturday nights 🌜

view all 713 commente

y/nbabeee celebrating that pole in style

norrizz just one chance that's all I'm asking 😭

mcnorrislando asking for attention much? 🤮

norry4 damn, girl can't even post normal pictures without getting shit on..I've got some advice, unfollow her..

jaden00 check your dms?

charles16 these desperate men in these comments are sending me 😂

landonorris damn girl, you come here often?

y/nusername leave me alone you freak, I've got a boyfriend.

lnfoour4 stfu lmfao y'all so dumb 😂

pierregasly 😍

bott_ass jesus christ no shame at all..

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y/nusername posted to their story

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife

Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10

[arabzian]

NANAMI AS YOUR GYM CRUSH

you needed him to pleasure your mouth.

Tags: heavy blowjob, sub reader, cute pet names, soft dom Nanami, fem reader, dumbification, I imagine her being a thick black or Latina woman but it’s up to your imagination.

You'd picked up a good rhythm at the gym recently. You had a goal in mind, and to motivate you a little more, you also had a crush, and no lie, sometimes you'd come to the gym hoping to bump into him. It wasn't a serious crush, just a source of motivation.

He was a tall, muscular blond with a focused, impassive face, just your style. He didn't talk much, except to politely ask the gym staff something.

Seeing his sweat dripping down his muscles and forehead as he worked out made you hot, very hot. But usually, you'd quickly come to your senses and move on.

Once you went to the gym with your friend, trying as hard as you could to maintain your rhythm on the treadmill, and suddenly your friend took away your headphones.

- Y/N, do you know him? she asked, pointing discreetly at nanami.

- Uh, not really. Why not?

- He's been giving you those looks since a moment ago... He's not indifferent to you.

You blush at this sentence, was Nanami looking at you? Had he noticed you too? Thank you for wearing such lovely sports pants, you thanked yourself inwardly. They really showed you off.

That episode had happened two weeks ago, and right now you were ovulating, and damn it, you were horny as ever. You were showering at the gym and you couldn't stop thinking about the blond, muscular, tall, broad and virile man. His gentle yet piercing gaze... You'd start rubbing your thighs together and blush thinking about him.

You were really starting to want to fuck him, a simple crush that had started out so innocent had turned into a pure erotic fantasy.

You put on clean clothes and combed your hair before getting your things and leaving the girls' changing rooms. And honestly, you were so horny you weren't thinking straight.

You followed Nanami's gaze as he wiped his forehead with a towel and headed for the men's locker room to change.

As he closed the door behind him, you soon heard the water running, a sign that he was showering. It was now or never.

You stood obediently in front of the locker room, some of the men who they were there smiling at you a little embarrassed, but you didn't care, you were waiting for Nanami with bated breath.

He came out of the men's changing room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you standing in front of the door.

- Looking for something? he asked.

He smelled so good... You looked at him with puppy-dog eyes.

- Excuse me, do you have a minute?

- Yes, of course," he replied.

The last man left the locker room, leaving only you and Nanami.

- Could I ....

You looked at him more and more insistently, and he found himself swallowing and feeling his cheeks heat up.

- Could I please suck your dick?

It was asked with such politeness, contrasting with your look full of envy, which unsettled the blond.

Nanami had noticed you and found you extremely beautiful, your self-confidence making you sexy. So for a beautiful woman like you to propose such a thing to him, he'd have to be crazy to refuse.

- I... Are you sure?

- Yes, please," you insisted, placing your hands against his chest.

Nanami briskly ushered you into the changing room. You smiled happily before giving him a kiss on the lips. He kissed you back, exchanging butterfly kisses, and after a few seconds you found yourself kneeling in front of his immense body.

He was standing there and you were on your knees, starting to lick the fly of his pants. You felt him gradually get hard, he unbuttoned his pants and you admired his length, which almost pierced his shorts. You could see the shape of his cock through his boxers, it was all curved upwards and looked so long and thick. You were already salivating.

You pulled down his shorts and finally came face to face with his dick, starting to lick his tip with the tip of your tongue. He let out a moan as you continued to play with his tip, looking him straight in the eye.

You were having fun licking him, you were already so wet.

Nanami was moaning louder and louder, trying to keep his moans to himself but you were teasing him too much. And you were very very beautiful too, your mouth was filled with his cock which made you big cheeks, you had eyes so sparkling with lust and cheeks so red... He felt that it would be difficult for him. He had just finished sport so he was also very horny.

He let go when you started touching yourself while you were sucking him.

- Y/N... he moans softly.

He grabbed your head and violently began to go and come into your mouth. You widened your eyes, not expecting him to take control as your seed began to bead like little drops of rain on the ground. Nanami was forcing his cock to go down your throat and stain every part of your mouth, he felt your tongue wrap around his length and your lips were locked around his cock that even if he was pulled by force, you wouldn’t let him go.

Nanami fucked your mouth like never before, it was so violent that you changed your position. You were on your knees, now you had your buttocks on the floor and your thighs spread. He didn’t even hide his moans.

- it’s amazing, you’re amazing, he complimented you. You swallow everything, you manage to take me...

He moved his hips faster and faster, your mouth was only the receptacle of his frustration, your eyes began to bead with excitement. He was using you and using your mouth as if it were a pussy, your breasts were moving to the rhythm of its comings and goings and his pre-seminal fluid slipped along your throat to drip on your chest.

You were moaning with a big cock in your throat.

"Are you moaning?" We felt that it excited him.

You were so masochistic, it was getting ridiculous. You could not answer, but there was something else that spoke for you: you had just peed on yourself.

Nanami thought it was adorable.

- you look and act like a little cat... maybe I should please your pussy too?

Slowly, it withdrew from your mouth, its length was so impressive that you felt the centimeters slip on your tongue.

"Kitten, turn around."

"I just peed". You were having trouble talking, you were drooling a mixture of your own saliva and his cum. You were shaking too.

"It’s okay, I’ll clean it up later."

You obey him and act like a little cat, you get on all fours, arch yourself as if you stretched and spread your thighs to better take him.

Nanami came to caress his cock against your pussy, he felt that you were stilll very horny.

"Nanami. Please be rough... "

"Your desires are orders, princess."

You’re smiling at the idea that he’s gonna hurt you. You were a little princess in Nanami’s big muscular venous hands that could break you in half in a split second.

His cock slipped into your pussy, you were so wet that penetration was easy. Well… for him. Not for you. You felt like you were just running away with a torture machine. If your mouth couldn’t stand his cock, then your pussy would break in half.

"N...no...." you groan as you stick out your tongue so much.

"Mh? Are you all right?"

- Too big...

He smiled at the heard of this remark which he took for a compliment. Nanami began to slowly moving, you were struggling to stay firmly on all fours, you were on the verge of collapsing. Nanami felt you shaking, so he grabbed your arms firmly, lifted you off the ground and abused your back as no one had ever done.

You could hear the sound of his balls slamming against your butt all over the room.

You shouted with pleasure, you said incomprehensible things but it was so enjoyable to hear you have pleasure that it only excited Nanami. He was getting stronger and deeper, his cock was so deep in you that you felt everything. You asked again and again you didn’t want him to stop.

You suddenly remembered that you were in your ovulation period, he musn’t ejaculate in you.

- Y/N… I will...

- Nanami waits...! Do it in my mouth."

You were so adorable. He let you go before suddenly getting on top of you and putting his cock in your mouth. You were lying on your back and Nanami was standing over you, his cock crudely buried in your throat. He kept moving before finally coming in your mouth. A moan of pleasure escaped from his lips while on your side, you ejaculate in your turn.

You couldn’t scream because he was in your mouth, his hand leaning against the back of your head to keep your lips locked around his cock, Nanami didn’t intend to leave you alone. You were crying with joy, smelling piss and cum . Your eyes were staring at the ceiling and were almost back in your head.

"You look so pretty, don’t hesitate if you still need me. I’d be happy to do you a favor again."

Please I need to suck his dick omg…

[herofics]

Stressed and tired, with Geto and Gojo comfort

I was considering writing smut, but I ended up deciding against it and just doing some fluff. I really wanted to write some GetoxreaderxGojo and this seemed like a good idea. It's in a situation where Geto never went rogue, and they're around 28 years old, so about where the anime started. I just needed some comfort I guess, I’m tired and sleep deprived so I apologize if this is a bit of a ramble. I’m gonna tag the things in this AU something like “good Geto AU”, because there’s probably gonna be more. Also feel free to send more JJK requests if you have ideas :D

“Baby, you need to get some rest. Come on, we’re going to sleep too” Gojo sighed.

“I can’t yet, I need to finish writing this” you muttered, staring at your laptop intensely.

“Alright, we’re taking drastic action” Geto groaned while pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, before grabbing your laptop, clicking on something on the screen and closing it.

“I really hope that was you saving my work” you glared at him.

“It was” Geto said, placing the laptop on the coffee table. “Satoru isn’t right very often, but he is about this. You need some sleep”

“Hey! I’m always right” Gojo argued.

You snickered tiredly, while Geto rolled his eyes at him, before offering his hand to you and pulling you up from the couch. You wobbled a bit while you were standing, so Gojo picked you up and started carrying you to the bedroom bridal style, with Geto following on his heels.

“I can walk on my own” you protested, but just leaned your head against his chest and closed your eyes.

You were really tired, it’s not like you didn’t know that, but you had work to do. Your resolve melted away quite quickly as you snuggled against Gojo’s chest. You just couldn’t be bothered to resist your boyfriends. They meant well and just wanted to take care of you, so who were you to deny them that.

“To bed we go” Gojo said and kissed the top of your head.

Gojo set you on the bed, and pulled off your jeans and socks, as you tiredly struggled to get your hoodie off.

“Can you help me? I’ve got no strength left” your voice was muffled by the hoodie since your head was inside of it.

“Are you ready to admit you need sleep?” you heard Geto’s voice say.

“Yes” you said reluctantly from inside the hoodie.

“Good” Geto said with a self-satisfied smirk as he pulled the hoodie off you.

“Thank you” you yawned.

You wiggled to the end of the bed where the pillows were and buried your head in the pillow you liked to sleep on, as the two men climbed into bed on both sides of you.

Gojo wrapped his arms around you just under your chest from behind you and snuggled his face into your hair. Geto wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face to your chest. While you felt very safe and loved, you were also very warm. You didn’t mind though, it was nice to have them so close. At least you knew they were at home and safe, and not on some mission getting themselves hurt.

For some reason, all the times they’d come home hurt and all the times you’d had to wake them up from nightmares came rushing back to your mind. You just wanted to go to sleep, you didn’t need to start crying right now. Apparently that wasn’t for you to decide though, because you started sniffling and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. The reaction was probably caused by the fact that you were so very stressed and tired, and just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“What’s wrong love?” Geto asked, raising his head from your chest and creating a bit of distance between you and him so he could look you in the eyes.

“What’s got you so upset baby?” Gojo asked softly.

“I need to sleep, I’m just tired” you tried to bury your face in your pillow.

“You don’t need to lie to us” Geto said and placed a hand on your cheek, to stop you from crying into the pillow.

“Yeah, we’re here for you” Gojo chimed in.

“I know, I know, I just don’t feel like talking about it, it’s not something you can change anyway” you sniffled.

It’s not like the two of the strongest sorcerers could just quit. They were needed, and they did so much good, you just wished they wouldn’t have to risk their lives doing it.

Geto and Gojo looked at each other for a while. Neither of them wanted to push you, especially since you were already exhausted, but they would have liked to know what had made you so upset.

“When you’re ready to talk about it, just come to us, okay?” Geto said with an assurring smile, brushing his thumb over your cheek, and pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m sure we can figure something out together” Gojo muttered against your neck, before peppering a few kisses on your neck and shoulder.

“I love you both so much” you sniffled.

“I love you too (Name)” Geto smiled softly.

“Aren’t you forgetting about someone, Su-gu-ru?” you could hear that annoying smirk in Gojo’s voice and in the way he said Geto’s name.

“And I love you as well, Satoru” Geto sighed and hung his head, but you could see his lips draw into a small smile.

“I love you both too” Gojo laughed, before reaching his arms over you and pulling Geto closer so you were pinned between them, while he embraced you both.

You felt better. Your worries hadn’t exactly eased, but for now you were only feeling warm and so very loved. You could at least sleep a bit easier tonight, knowing the two people you loved were both there with you. 

[autistic-fuckwad]

><> - SHINIGAMI EYES IS NO LONGER RELIABLE!

pinned post cause my old one is fucking depressing!!! be 18+ to follow please! i dont post porn but i do post suggestive stuff.

IF YOU HAVE MEN DNI ON YOUR PROFILE, FOLLOW YOUR OWN DNI! I'M A MAN AND PROUD OF IT: GET OVER IT!

[New to Tumblr? Click me!]

hi im Anchor! im 19. im otherkin, autistic + adhd and a whole lot of other mental shit, physically disabled, and fall under the trans man and nonbinary umbrellas. im gay as hell ( i love men + nonbinary people!!! im both lol ) so youll see posts abt that. my gender is an enigma, but i am not a woman for sure! i only use he/they pronouns, but i heavily prefer he/him. i like to talk abt myself in the third person a lot bc autism. that's why i'm autistic-fuckwad!

i make art! the guy above is me but like. a bunny version. i also have tons of fandoms that i like but dont really talk abt! idk i dont really know what to put here if you wanna check me out from other places, here's my carrd!

Find me funny or cool and wanna support me?

><> - [Throne | Ko-fi | Cashapp ] - <><

><> - Tags: [#anchor rambles] - my original post tag! i just be yapping all the time. [#tom the fat cat] - my tumblr/reddit/pinterest famous by proxy cat Tom! i finally gave him his own tag. [#my asks] - self explanatory! [#hate mail] - my tag for hate anons that i do answer. most of them are just funny or old things i felt needed addressed. [#my art] - i generally post my art on my art sideblog, but i will also crosspost it here! [#chroxri/#chroxris] - this is my original species! as of right now they arent finished and exist entirely in my head, so they arent for public use.

><> - OC Tags: [#oc: spraypaint | #oc: lucifer | #oc: megaladon | #oc: mau] [#oc: akeno | #oc: cirsium]

><> - Mine sideblogs: @commander-frostfang - Guild Wars 2 sideblog. Named after my first character, but holds both Zohar Frostfang and Hyacinth of Malvale as my commaders. I post my gw2 art there, if i make any, and reblog posts abt gw2. I currently have played through the entire story on Zohar.

@5h4rku8us4rt - Art blog! kinda disorganized, not tagged well, will fix up in the future. still badass as hell tho. i post my art here so you can follow this to see when i post art specifically cause i reblog so much on my main blog. 5H4RKU8US is generally my username on other sites, i just tagged art to the end in the same style. it's pronounced sharkubus. @5h4rkd0llz - doll blog. heavy wip, ive been depressed. i collect rainbow high and calico critters, i also sew doll clothes. might do customs, might not. idk.

@5h4rku8us - Had to claim my main username somehow! im honestly using this to store my sona's art and post abt vtubing stuff. once i start making videos, i plan on uploading links to them here! honestly, kind of dead rn. it will happen in the future tho!

@sharksimsss - sims 4 cc blog. i hardly use this one so its just for myself and my bff to grab cc from lol @chroxri-corner - my own original species and world building blog! currently dead but not abandoned. im just depressed

I block heavily and I'm not interested in arguing about my core belief systems. i dont hold opinions on most things so dont come into my inbox just to ask abt if i support giggleshitfart68 or not for being twinklekin. i support intersex people and believe in breaking the sex and gender binary. do as ye will as long as ye bring no harm upon others.

RADFEMS, TERFS, GENDER ESSENTIALISTS AND INTERSEXISTS FUCK OFF!

sometimes i misunderstand things! always willing to talk it out if the other party is receptive and civil.

[neonbeanbagz]

CHRIS ARGENT FIC RECLIST, as curated by his (self-appointed) biggest fan.

I don’t know if you could tell by the fact that I have been running the Chris Argent tags on here, Instagram, and TikTok like the damn navy, but he is my favorite character in that show and has been since 2018. And yet, in this WHOLE time of being a fan of his, I’ve only found a HANDFUL of fics (15 to be specific) where I enjoy the author's characterization of him. So now, I’m here, compiling them all for your enjoyment, with my ultimate faves marked with a ☆ symbol. What can I say...I'm picky when it comes to my son! I should be getting paid for the amount of PR I’ve been doing for his character…

Nurture over nature by netweight [<1k] ☆

For the 3 Sentence Ficathon prompt, "Chris Argent/Derek Hale, nothing like Kate."

I know...all this posting I've been doing about Petopher and the first thing on the list is Chris and NOT Peter. Little known NBB lore: I was a Chris/Derek stan LONG before I gave into the Petopher propaganda. And this is one of my fave fics about them. Perfect drabble. I reread this all the time. I've even reread it during times where I wasn't hyperfixating over Teen Wolf at ALL. I think this may have even started my love for vignettes, one-shots, etc. To be able to write such a great fic in three sentences is just astounding to me. That takes having SUCH a way with words. It inspires me so much.

blessed is mercy among family by asiren [<1k] ☆

Chris Argent: wifeless, sisterless, daughterless. At the end of the day, nothing left at all.

The summary alone lives in my head rent free. Like, no one's ever gonna describe him better. They nailed it.

Madonna of the Desert by fleete [<1k]

Chris meets Vicky at a hunter's convention in the Wyoming desert.

The tone shift from the last one to this one is crazy. I didn't care about Chris/Victoria at ALL until I read this fic. I understand why people get the impression that their marriage was arranged, but I think it's so much more fun to think that Chris really did just fall in love with her and her stone cold killer bitchery the good old fashioned way.

A Neck But No Head by HenryMercury [1.1k] ☆

Argent men are trained to be soldiers, and Chris is no more and no less than that. Argent women are trained to be leaders—but there are no Argent women left. Chris is a bullet without a gun, an arrow shaft without a bow to give it force and guidance. The nogitsune had asked what has a neck but no head—and Chris has an answer for it now.

Okay, back to the sad stuff. Sorry! Blame the word count, not me...Errrnnnyways, this was the first character study fic I ever found about him and it has stuck with me since. Perfect glimpse into what he must've been thinking post-Allison. Little hint of Chris/Derek at the end.

Shedding All My Old Regrets by saintsideways [1.5k]

Peter leaves Chris in Sacramento. Peter finds him again in Santa Fe, living in a motel next to a diner, face brown from the desert sun. Peter is moon-pale, thin and sharp and salt-stained. “What took you so long?” Chris snaps, shirtless in the evening gloom, backlit by neon.

First Petopher fic on the list...I actually just found this one today on the hunt for some new Petopher fics and I enjoyed this one. I like their short and to-the-point writing style a lot. That might be a theme throughout all of these, actually...I've said this before but I really only enjoy their dynamic when they're at each other's throats or when there's a clear power imbalance in Peter's favor. Like, Peter's evil! PLEASE LET HIM BE EVIL! Unless it's with Melissa…in which case I support him softening up.

I'm no good (you're no better) by broadcastdelay [1.5k]

Despite his intention of avoiding both Argents and heroism, neither of which he feels particularly well-suited for, Derek ends up with 74 shards of glass embedded in his back and a Chris Argent who seems to disagree.

God, I love this one. This author writes Chris and Derek like nobody's business. Derek reads Chris so well in this, and they write Chris to be just the perfect amount of aimless and desperate. Rereading this now, their conversation kind of reminds me of Dr. House and the patient from One Day, One Room, which is my favorite House episode! Chris is the patient in this scenario, of course.

compartmentalizing by firefall [2.5k]

He lets Chris suffer in silence, which Chris both appreciates and understands. Derek has almost thirty years of horror to swallow down. The world hasn’t been kind to him, either. Which is why the unabashed care in his voice nearly takes Chris’ breath away when Derek asks quietly, “We’re okay, right?” He says it like a plea. Like he needs them to be okay. It’s a far cry from the practiced control Chris usually hears from him. Chris’ face heats up. “Of course,” he says roughly. “Why would you ask that?” Chris and Derek after the war.

Another Chris/Derek fic. THIS was the first Chris/Derek fic I ever read. It's always gonna have a special place in my heart.

Seventeen and Not a Day More by allyarra [2.7k]

Allison is 17 years old. She will never be a day older. And then she is.

Chris and Allison. The bit about Lydia lives in my head rent free.

soldiers; monsters; strangers by robotboy [2.8k] ☆

An uncanny happenstance in the desert.

THE BEST PETOPHER FIC. HANDS DOWN.

When It Comes to Melissa by Triangulum [3.3k] ☆

Melissa's beautiful when she comes, head thrown back in ecstasy. One of her hands is still twisted in Chris' hair and her fingers spasm when she comes, unconsciously pulling his face closer to her. He commits the taste of her and the way she looks as she falls apart to memory, in case he never gets to be like this with her again. She's breathing hard, soft breasts rising and falling rapidly. She tugs at Chris' hair when it's too much, when she gets oversensitive. He pulls back reluctantly, not wanting to give up where he is. The insides of her thighs are red from his beard and he presses soft kisses in apology to each, but she doesn't seem to mind, humming in pleasure when he touches them.

So, if you couldn't tell by the name and the summary...this is Chris/Melissa. Superbly well-written. So so so so cute.

Let Me Be Your Hero by idc_chan [3.5k]

Five times Chris struggled to let Allison grow up and one time he couldn't.

Another Chris and Allison one. Loooove a vulnerable Chris moment especially when it's to do with him being a father. Also it's so hard being a fan of the both of them because neither of them can do any wrong in my eyes. Like that is so grandma coded of me.

a new sun pounding by traveller [5.9k] ☆

“Noor Khan, Chris Argent. Chris, Noor.” Jake gestures between them with the H&K he’s holding. “Thanks for coming.” “Watch where you’re pointing that thing,” the woman says in a crisp accent, knocking the gun away with the back of her hand before reaching out to shake Chris’s. “Nice to meet you.”

Oh my GOD. THIS ONE. THIS. ONE. THIS ONE IS SOOOOOOO GOOD. Who would've thought one of the best Chris Argent fics would be him paired up with a character who doesn't even exist in Teen Wolf?!?! Yes, it is Chris Argent/Original Female Character. I don't normally read OC fics but I'm glad I stepped out of my comfort zone for this. Like, turns out there really are people who get him like I get him. A++++

But It Won't Erase by broadcastdelay [8.9k] ☆

When newly-turned werewolves start popping up in Beacon Hills, Chris Argent goes to bring Derek back to town to help clean up the mess. In cleaning up the mess, though, one last werewolf gets created. And somehow that’s not even the most unexpected development in Chris’s life that year.

Oh my God. AND THIS ONEEEEE?!?!?!?! DON'T EVEN GET ME STAAAAAAARTED. Oh, wait, this is my blog and my post. I can literally do whatever I want. This is the second time this author has popped up on this list and for good reason. Their writing style is PERFECT. This remains not only one of my favorite Chris fics, but one of my favorite Teen Wolf fics PERIOD.

Need by Davechicken [9k] ☆

After the loss of his daughter, Chris struggles to find something. Anything. Anything that will make things okay again. He never meant to ask Derek. Well. Sort of.

More Chris/Derek :3 I love love love love love love love this one. It ticks ALL the boxes for me. Perfect.

Steady Hands by thegeminisage [36.5k] ☆

Twenty-four hours after the death of his sister, Chris Argent wakes in Derek Hale's loft with his hands trembling too badly to load and fire a gun, and no matter what he does, he can't make them stop. He made a promise to protect Beacon Hills in Allison's stead, but now he has to decide how he carries on her legacy when he doesn't know if he can fight, if he can ever lay his guilt to rest, and if he's truly capable of doing good when he has already done so much harm.

For my last one, I have...another Chris/Derek fic.This is actually a sequel to another fic they wrote. I didn't put that one in here even though I really like it just because that one leans more towards being Derek focused. Chris kinda goes a lil crazy in this one which I LOOOOOVE. Of course a guy like him would have a nervous breakdown. WHO WOULDN'T IF YOU WERE CONSTANTLY SURROUNDED BY TRAGEDY AND IT WAS LOWKEY ALL YOUR FAULT!!!!

Anyways, if you've made it this far down...thank you xx I really locked in for this guys so YOU BETTER APPRECIATE IT! If this doesn't earn me the title of biggest Chris Argent fan I don't know WHAT will.

[kaydeefalls]

💗 Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (if you like). Spread the self-love! 💗

Sweet, thanks for tagging me!

Also OOF I've got like 200 fics up on AO3 spanning 20+ years in fandom, playing favorites is always hard. Gonna try to spread the love around multiple fandoms rather than give in to recency bias (because otherwise this list would all be TOG fics, and I don't think that's representative of me in fandom as a whole). 😊

In no particular order:

Carthaginians (Old Guard) - I'm genuinely proud of this one! It took quite a lot of research and thought to pull it together, and it was a big step outside of my comfort zone (a historical setting I was NOT already familiar with, intense deep dive into battle scenes and military strategies, significantly more heightened relationship drama than my usual style). So, yeah, pleased with that experiment.

Boden's Mate (X-Men) - look it's still the fic I'm most likely to be known for, more than ten years later, and I'm okay with that. Taught me how to do a proper fusion AU, which is now one of my favorite tropes to write, and I still vividly remember the rollercoaster ride of writing and posting this one in realtime.

The Conspirator's Gift (X-Men) - writing this one dragged me back into fandom after a three-year hiatus, and I will always look on it fondly for that reason alone. It was just a FUN puzzle to put together - it pinged my brain in all the best ways. Still pleased with my weird obscure medieval mystery AU here, currently back in that headspace again as I plot out a potential sequel that may or may not ever see the light of day, but at least I'm enjoying myself!

she's the one that they call old whatsername (Star Trek AOS) - my lone Trek fic and a genderswap to boot, but whatever, I am Fond of it. I really like girl!Kirk's voice, okay, it pleases me.

The Rose of Jericho (Torchwood) - maybe it's gauche to still be proud of fic I wrote fourteen years ago? Whatever. This is still my personal headcanon for Torchwood post-COE, and I stand by it.

[salvatoraes]

CHARACTER SHEET

FULL NAME. stefan antonio salvatore. NICKNAME. stef, steffy, stefano, hero hair, the ripper of monterey, rippah ( klaus only ). PRONOUNS. he + him. SIZE. 5'11. AGE. 520+ ( technically ) 18 ( physically ) ZODIAC. scorpio. SPOKEN LANGUAGES. italian, english, french & spanish.

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

HAIR. light brown, could be considered blonde to some people. wavy, curly when wet or damp. usually a bit fluffy or styled with gel. EYES. forest green, mesmerizing, soft. somewhat expressive when in thought or contemplating. SKIN TONE. tan. cheeks gets flushed when embarrassed, angry, or hot. BODY TYPE. tall, skinnier but fit. VOICE. calm or calming usually, deeper. he speaks slower sometimes to make things clear. however, speaks very quickly if in italian. DOMINANT HAND. both, but right more so. POSTURE. excellent, he slouches on occasion when exhausted but his posture is overall excellent. SCARS. one scar on the lower right side of his abdomen from a bullet wound. curtesy of his father when he shot him & damon & they were left to bleed to death. BIRTHMARKS. no birthmarks. MOST NOTABLE FEATURES. his green eyes, the one stray freckle under one of his eyes thats close to his cheek, his hair & his dimples.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃

PLACE OF BIRTH. florence, italy. HOMETOWN. florence, italy. SIBLINGS. older brother, damon salvatore. ( 8 years older ) PARENTS. giuseppe & lilian salvatore. ( both deceased )

𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

OCCUPATION. fake high - school student, mechanic or writer. CURRENT RESIDENCE. mystic falls, virginia. CLOSE FRIENDS. lexi branson ( his best friend of five hundred years, until his brother kills her ) , caroline forbes, elena gilbert ( when not a couple ) , klaus mikaelson ( sometimes, depending on the day, the decade, the century, if you know, you know ) FINANCIAL STATUS. wealthy, though doesn't need money to survive. DRIVER'S LICENSE. yes, his car is his most prized possession. CRIMINAL RECORD. does this apply to vampires ? VICES. bloodlust, self - loathing, guilt, not carrying about his own safety when it comes to others.

𝐒𝐄𝐗 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. bi- sexual & bi - romantic. PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. he's a switch, top leaning unless with men. TURN OFFS. not much tbh, just don't fall for his brother after you fall for him lol. & don't pressure him into things or opening up if he's not comfortable. TURN ON'S. compassion, loving, caring, good sense of humor, understands him & will let him open up when he's ready, confidence, kind to others, etc. LOVE LANGUAGE. quality time, acts of service. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. over protective but will let them make their own decisions, often cooks for them or wants to, can be really romantic & sweet, likes to go on dates, puts his all into his relationships but likes to go slow at points. he will definitely put their needs before his own.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒

CHARACTER'S THEME TUNE. hold on by chord overstreet or wanted dead or alive by bon jovi. HOBBIES TO PASS THE TIME. writing, reading, exercising, hunting, driving. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. left. SELF-CONFIDENCE LEVEL. little but doesn't show it, he's very good at hiding his emotions.

tagged ( stole from my pookie ) : @tellsjokes <3 tagging : consider yourself tagged if you see this ! tag me if you steal so i can be nosy hehe.

[silcosprincess]

Hi! I'd like to request for a romantic matchup please. SFW for now.

Pronouns: they/them

Age: 18

Sexuality: Idk but I prefer men  Okay with poly: Not really

Side I'm on: Neither (I'm on the side of peace), but certainly not Noxus

Personality: Introspective and rational, terrified of conflict. I daydream a lot and tend to space out when I’m not talking to someone. I’m a true introvert, but I love to talk to certain people and about things I find interesting, like my fixations or a fun hypothetical situation. I observe people more than I want to interact with them. I'm also good at reading people (to the point where my brother thinks I can read people's minds). Purple represents me best as a colour.

Hobbies: Reading, looking for fanfiction with amazing writing styles (descriptions, vibes, the closer it reads like poetry, the better), writing (fanfiction for now, but I plan to become a professional writer in the future e.g. movies, tv shows, manga), listening to music, psychoanalyzing people, analyzing fictional characters, watching horror movie summaries and anime/movie reaction videos

Likes: POETRY (I follow the web weave tag here and my favourite poet might just be Richard Siken), tofu (my favourite food), chocolate, books (the genres I tend to read are thrillers, fantasy or sci-fi), no longer human (my favourite book), the traveling cat chronicles (my favourite comfort book), anime (mostly shounen, but I've watched some movies as well), manga, analyzing characters with many layers to them, personality typology (the closest thing I've had to a hyperfixation. my all-time favourite is enneagram, but I’ve had astrology and MBTI phases), action or comedy movies, visiting cafes, looking at sunrises and sunsets, watching storms (LIGHTNING), crochet flowers and plushies (I don’t crochet, I just buy them), phone charms, the colour purple, window shopping, video essays (marketing - celebrities, not companies, somewhat deep topics like love and philosophy, literature and film analysis - especially themes of horror movies, despite me being too chicken to actually watch the moves)

Traits I like in someone: Intelligence, common sense, the ability to listen, someone passionate about their interests. I've noticed that my two closest friends are passive and non-confrontational, try not to get upset easily, and sometimes indecisive (ex: choosing what drink to get, I make decisions for them when they can't). So I would say I tend to get along with people who are enneagram 9s, though I wouldn't say I would necessarily like their traits in other people.

Traits I dislike in someone: Recklessness, lack of common sense, lack of maturity (when they're old enough to be a teenager/adult), self-deprecation/too pessimistic that it starts to drain me.

Thank you for your hard work!

Hiii! Thank you for requesting <3 @archive-of-the-lost

I match you with:

💙Viktor💙

The both of you share a passion for analysis and creativity, which makes conversations between you and him flow without much effort, and he aligns really nicely with your introspective personality. He always feels seen in your presence and he makes you feel the same by valuing your thoughts and ideas that you share with him.

Viktor often quotes passages from books you've read back to you, as a show of admiration because he really appreciates your love for literature and doesn't normally meet people who truly care for books and reading like you do.

Quiet evenings with you are his favorite times nowadays, reading with you by lamplight or tinkering with some new invention that either of you made, sharing comfortable silence.

He has a lot of fascination with understanding the human condition, so he also really enjoys having deep conversations with you about that type of stuff since you're also like to analyze layered characters, or other people in general.

The connection between you two is almost always peaceful, and he shares your preference for avoiding conflict if it's unnecessary, and he tries to be a soothing presence in your life.

You also give him warmth and encouragement, which is something he usually overlooks in his pursuit of progress. You always remind him to prioritize self care and truly appreciate his own life beyond work.

Viktor really treasures your perspective on life, your ability to see beauty and meaning in even the most mundane things. He'll often ask for your take on other people or just random things since he really admires how your mind works and just admires you in general tbh.

Your relationship with him inspires Viktor to dream beyond science for one, and to actually think of his own future beyond his vision of perfection or cleanliness, and the both of you work together to balance out the abstract with the practical.

Day-to-day activities with him are usually pretty warm and calm, strolling through either Piltover or Zaun together, visiting little cafes where you exchange ideas over tea and coffee. He always listens intently to your fanfiction ideas, occasionally offering suggestions (if wanted) and just doing little things like smiling and nodding at you to show that he's interested in what you're saying and also admiring you at the same time.

He likes to surprise you sometimes with cute little things he makes, like mechanical purple flowers that light up whenever they're touched by the wind. Even whenever he's busy, he tries his best to make time for you, and he always finds solace in the moments you share.

Thank you again for requesting <3 I hope you liked this, let me know if I got anything wrong or if you have any other ideas for this dynamic.

[the-sun-is-also-a-star]

"For someone who loved words as much as I did, it was amazing how often they failed me."

-- If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio

“Because freedom, I am told, is nothing but the distance between the hunter and its prey.”

-- On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong

and as for poetry, i like to talk about "Written in my Dreams by W. C. Williams" by Allen Ginsberg with other people because it's short and rolls over the tongue nicely and i like to come back to it, puts a smile on my face, you know?

i'll also never forget "A Carcass" by Charles Baudelaire from when we read it at school years ago and then again in high school and i have now chosen Les Fleurs du mal as one of the books for my oral school leaving exam, so it's definitely one of those authors i read once and was never able to get out of my head

and last but not least, Louise Glück (may she rest in peace) and her "Theory of Memory" which includes the ending "Right now you are a child holding hands with a fortune-teller. All the rest is hypothesis and dream." and i simply don't have a choice but to love this one

i have so many more favourites, but these are the ones i can think of right now hehe <33

what r ur favourite poems and quotes??

those are brilliant actually

mine are quite, different to what one may think but i like finding meaning in things that other people think are only surface level :

思い出なんか いらん - we don't need memories

this is from the anime haikyuu LMAO which is a fucking volleyball anime and it is the team motto of one of the teams. It is quite honestly my life motto at this point. I used to live in the past, excused people for thing they do now because they were different in the past. they were different in my memories. I was so focused on the past i forgot to enjoy my present. I am done doing that. My memories hold me back. I am tired of it.

"to love and lose and still be kind" - warsan shire

this is pretty self explanatory. i dont think I've had a hard life. but i certainly haven't had an easy one. i have a habit of giving too much of myself to people. I'm working on rectifying that whilst still being kind.

"but i cut people out like tags on my clothing" - conan gray

I LOVE people watching its one of my favourite songs. but this line is really important to me. I've cut the tags off of my clothing for as long as I can remember. ever since i was a kid. I also have a habit of cutting out people the second they break my trust. as easy as cutting off tags from my clothing. I don't think its a good habit or a bad habit. it just. is.

"It's always the ones who are quietest who often have the greatest things to say" - TJ Klune, Wolfsong

This is from one of my favourite books of all time. I was a quiet child for a while. I never got excited for anything and after a while my parents suspected I had childhood depression, we still don't know for sure if I did. It makes a lot of sense though. It took me a while to become confident in my own voice and my own opinions. this quote is really important to me.

"Men don't cry. My daddy taught me that. Men don't cry because they don't have time to cry.

I must not have been a man yet because I cried. I bowed my head and cried." - TJ Klune, Wolfsong

This isn't personal to me in anyway, I just really, really love this part of the book and these two lines in particular.

"I'll be your hands." "I'll be your sanity." - TJ Klune, Ravensong

love has always been something I've read about. but this quote takes the damn cake.

as for poems,

At a Funeral by Dennis Brutus

I analyzed this poem for an English Lit class and the story behind why it was written really stuck with me. It was written after the death of Valencia Majombozi who was shot on the day of her graduation from nursing school. Its a protest poem and it just hits really fucking hard.

Death of a Naturalist by Seamus Heaney

This was the first poem that i ever took inspiration from. I had of course written before, but I really enjoyed Heaney's writing style so it strongly influenced my poem Quietude, which I am planning to submit to the empty inkwell publication...hopefully lol

Identity Card by Mahmoud Darwish

This poem is written as a form of protest poetry as well. Mahmoud Darwish was a Palestinian poet, for those of you who do not know and he wrote this poem about being asked for his identity card by Israeli Officers. Its really, really good.

[luninosity]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love! Tagged by @estrellami-1 - thank you, my dear! <3 Let's see, fanfic specifically, not original works, I imagine...well, I've got a lot! The question is, which... Okay, these are just my personal favs, not even necessarily the ones I think might be the best-written, and I'm also excluding co-authored fic because that would be a very different list! (For one thing, Amateur Cartography, with Reg....) 1. straight from your heart (Stucky) - lots of people seem to like this one (thank you!) and I do too - I love recovering!Bucky stories, I loved the premise (it was written for a fest prompt), and I love the idea of Steve and Bucky working out what they want to incorporate, and play with, and reclaim, as far as identities (and, okay, some kink; it's me!). 2. Like Sugar (Evanstan; series) - okay, this is probably cheating because it's a whole series, but I can't separate them! This might be the thing people know me for most, maybe, and it was at the time the longest and most detailed story I'd ever written, and one of those that was (mostly) easy to write - words and scenes just turned up and flowed. I sometimes go back and reread my writing and am honestly impressed by myself. I do love this whole giant thing. 3. tempt me, tease me (leave me breathless) & (baby won't you please) run your fingers through my hair (both Evanstan, both sort of gentle kink) - okay, this is also kind of cheating, because they're two separate stories - except they're sort of linked, in my head? They have vaguely similar premises, about Chris discovering some things about Seb's preferences, and love confessions, and kink, and comfort, and...I don't know, they just have a similar 'feel' to my writer-brain. They both have specific lines that I've put on "top ten favorite sentences I've written" lists before, and I love my writing at this point. 4. never mind the why and wherefore (Johnny Storm/TJ Hammond Fantastic Four/Political Animals no-powers AU crossover) - this is an odd random one but I genuinely love it! In the category of "stories I never expected to write"...and then friends made me think about it...and then suddenly it practically wrote itself and I had 45k of story. One of the best and most unexpected and consequently wonderful writing experiences I've ever had, plus of course TJ deserves all the happiness! 5. Know That It's True (Cherik, X-Men: First Class era) - pulling out a real old-school one: this was my first-ever X-Men fic! Well, to be fair, that depends on how you count - it's the first one I started writing, but then I stopped and wrote and finished something else short, and then went back to this one! These days my writing style has evolved a bit, and there're some things I'd do differently - but the sheer sense of fun to it, the absolute joy, the "oh gosh YES" rush of feels while writing, posting, being so nervous about it as a new(ish) writer...oh, I love it. And I tumbled into so many communities and friendships and fan events and fests and, oh, the shared love - really, without this, I don't know where I'd be. So that's always got to be on a list of favorites. *hugs you all* Tagging people, oh, let's see... @musette22 @significantowl @ninemoons42 @thebestpersonherelovesbucky @rozf and anyone else who wants to! love you!

[sakiyaki-sashimi]

Get to know you questions!! Tag whoever you like :D

Writing my answers in orange!

1) top 5 or top 10 favorite animals (depending on how many animals you like)

Hermit Crabs, Pigeons, Otters, Anglerfish, Shrimp, Cats, Manned Wolves, Salamander, Sheep, Axolotls :D

2) top 3 Minecraft mobs

Mooshroom, chicken, and parrot!!!

3) favorite vocaloid song or My Singing Monsters island theme and why! (If you don’t like/know Vocaloid/MSM, just name a song or genre you like and why :D)

Fav Vocaloid song is Brain Explosion girl recently, and fav MSM theme HAS to be cold island. Or maybe earth???? Hm

4) favorite and least favorite textures, no why needed :333

Fav is squishy soft things, least favorite is ice in a freezer

5) not your favorite color, but your favorite color palette (bonus points if you have a pic of the specific palette or a photo/artwork of the pallet you like!!)

Purple, Green, Orange, Pink, and Black! Total Halloween vibes!!

6) fav book you had to read for school (fiction or non fiction work lol, and if you don’t like/have any then just name a book or fanfic you like!)

Of Mice and Men was surprisingly amazing! Thought I’d hate it tbh

7) how do you think of the months of the year in your head? Left to right, top to bottom, in specific numbered rows and columns? Tell me :D

I think of it like this:

January, February, March, April

May, June, July, August

September, October, November, December

8) assigned harry potter/ilvermorny house or Percy Jackson cabin or Warrior cats clan something like that lol (if you don’t have anything like that, star sign works too!)

I’ll do em all lol: Slytherin/Hufflepuff, Pukwudgie, Dionysus’s, RiverClan, I’m an Aries sun/gemini rising/pisces moon :D

9) MBTI???? Love those things :33 (If you haven’t taken the test yet or u just don’t wanna cuz it’s too long, are you a solider poet or king?)

I’m an ENFP-T! I thought I’d get king but I got poet lol

10) something “cringe” you actually rly like, no shame here :D

Gacha Life/Club, the styles just so cutesy! Ohhh also K-Pop, I’m a TOTAL stay :33 and DSMP, it’s just rly cool to me

11) characters from shows/movies/games you kin/stan/just adore!! NOT ACCEPTING IRL PPL PLZ AND THANK U :D (unless it’s urself, we like self love in these parts)

For me I currently kin Dazai, Edward Elric, c!TommyInnit, and I completely STAN any Project Sekai character. I mean any of them.

12) 5 people you’d wanna be at a party with and why! (Can be alive or dead, real or fake, celebrities or randos, humans or otherwise :D)

My grandpa to see him again, Roy mustang to see if he’s a bastard irl, Hachi/Kenshi Yonezu just to see how he’s doing, Kanye West to just ask him why, and BeastChild (the YouTuber) just cause I really like his stuff and would wanna meet him!

13) favorite hobby/fandom specific term and its meaning :333

I’m a writer (well, aspiring anyway, I’m not rly that good) and I love the idea of the sexy lamp. Basically if you’re writing a female character that could be replaced with a sexy lampshade and nothing about the story changes then you’re writing a BAD FEMALE CHARACTER XD

Cause it’s spooky season il leave it at 13 ;)

Happy answering!!!

No pressure tags :3 @touratoura @theancientwonder @kneecoal-mooma @citrushomie @skytheamazing @mitski-slope @a-trench-coat-of-confused-worms @dicklesswonder-blog @vicaridoo

[kwillow]

Answering Some Asks!

Forever ago, I said I'd try to answer more of the asks I get with text, so I don't have them sitting around for years on end. Then I didn't do that. Well... gonna try to do a few now!

Character Stuff

Probably not, since it's solid all the way through, so there's no space for the air to vibrate and make cool sounds. It'd be like flicking a column of glass or gemstone, probably just make some tapping or "thnk" noises and that's it. Alas!

Beggars can't be choosey.

But more seriously, probably words of affirmation/compliments or quality time. Though he doesn't believe compliments often even if he wants them - he's more apt to believe he's just being mocked or manipulated unless he already trusts someone (and even then, he has his doubts).

I talked a bit about this in the tags of this drawing, though I can elaborate in a bigger font size as well, haha.

As his story stands now, he has exclusively pursued women as partners. I tend to think of him as straight.

That said, I'm not opposed to his hetero being flexible if, in the future, a story opportunity popped up where he'd need to be curious about a man. (Jack, another character of mine, started off as straight and then slid inexorably to "bisexual, heavy on the girl" so it has happened before, haha.) AND if other people want to write/draw/think of him as straying from straight n' narrow that's obviously fine with me. :P

He's not a royal - he wishes, haha. He is nobility, though! His father his a marquis, which gives him the courtesy title of count (or "comte", using the French variant) until he inherits his father's title (though the Old Kingdoms are destroyed before that ever happens). Tough when he's much older he just assigns himself pope-kingship so I guess that counts as self-appointed royalty.

BUT ANYWAY

Yes he's had crushes, infatuations, love affairs and flings. Too many. Though it's interesting you bring up status - as a lot of his crushes tended to be on people from lower societal positions than he was. His first crush, and one of his longest (and most tumultuous) relationships was with a stablehand's daughter. When he did get infatuated with well-born women, it tended to be women who were already engaged, married or otherwise unavailable for him to marry. He's just got a taste for things he can't have...

It was extremely infuriating for his father.

(Of course, another part of his lack of discrimination between noble and common ladies might be due to him seeing himself as above ALL mortals, so what's the difference between a peasant and a noblewoman, really?)

Non-Character Stuff

Hahaha well I welcome that! Ambroys should be bullied on as many fronts as possible.

Thank you! It's a combination of purposeful research while also ignoring what I research for stuff I think just looks fun. Admittedly, I also am bad at drawing things consistently, so in some ways it's easier for me to just put a character in an entirely new outfit instead of trying to draw an old outfit the same way again, ha. xD

Not to sound like a soccer mom, but I'm a fan of Pinterest for browsing and collecting reference images of outfits that just "feel" like a character, so you have a broad visual library to draw from. You should also pair that with research into how the clothes you want to draw are supposed to fit. For historical outfits, you can get a lot of mileage out of the blogs of historical fanatics who enjoy eviscerating movie costumes from their period of interest. For modern day clothing, you can look at style blogs and tailoring information to learn how clothes are supposed to fit - and then break those rules if you want (for example, in mens' suits, the pants are not supposed to be bunched around the ankles, but I draw Theo's trousers that way to emphasize that he has unusually short legs).

My secret tip for coming up with lots of outfits for characters while keeping them cohesive is to determine a few things about their fashion sense (using Theo and Ambroys to contrast with each other):

What cuts/kinds of clothing do they wear often? What's their "taste", basically. For example, Ambroys wears tight pants/breeches, ostentatious coats and vests, lace and lots of jewelry. Theo, on the other hand, always wants to wear formal clothes that cover most of his body. From that, you can find other clothes that fit that mold and take inspiration from them, expanding what kinds of clothes they wear while still making it feel like "them".

What color palettes do they tend to wear? Theo wears dark colors and red and purple pretty much exclusively, while Ambroys wears a lot of colors, but only in light shades.

What thematic elements can you incorporate into their outfits as decoration? For Theo, I tend to include blood-drop designs and heraldic symbols like the ermine spot, while Ambroys is associated with flowers (especially roses), eyes and wings. You can add these elements to outfits to add a little extra spice (there are a lot of Ambroys' outfits that are really the same thing, but in one I put daffodils on him and another I put feathers on him, for example).

I hope any of that is helpful!

Thank you so much! I honestly have no clue what I'm doing when it comes to rendering, so I'm glad it's looking okay, heh!

I've heard Gravity Falls is great, but like many shows that I've heard are great, I have never made time to watch it. I know vaguely of Stanley Pines, though.

But thank you so much for saying you like Theo. He's a nasty little guy but he's very near and dear to my heart, and it really touches me that you see complexity and charisma in him. I do aim to make characters that are textured, weird little bastards.

And I don't mind you roleplaying with Theo, I think it's sweet. xP I'm glad he got to enjoy some pizza.

[transmothergoddess]

"Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven" - The Devil, Paradise Lost by John Milton

This blog will feature kinks such as:

Pleasure-domming

Incest

Cult-play

Cannibalism

Trans Supremacy

Consensual non consent

Impregnation

And more. This is your content warning. If things of this nature in fiction are not to your liking then you should not be viewing this blog. Minors dni, don't be a dick, etc.

As for turn offs:

Bathroom kinks and diapers

Furry/anthro/scalie and things of that nature

Bothering me without permission

Baby talk or uwu writing styles

Hyper proportions

Men in dominant roles.

Raceplay

If you run a blog that includes one of my turn offs, feel free to follow and interact, but just respect that I'm not interested in that personally and I won't be looking at your blog. I block with enthusiasm, so respect my rules on my own blog and we'll get along.

Rules: For my own mental health and emotional well-being, as well as to suit my tastes, I'll keep a simple list of things I expect from anyone who chooses to interact with me personally, but not with simple likes or reblogs/comments/tags on my posts.

1) Don't take these rules way too seriously. This is for fun and fantasy, these rules are a guideline for my own enjoyment and to get me in the mood and fuel my desires. At the end of the day I'm a normal person that has a lot on her mind, and I can't pay attention to everyone.

2) Uphold a basic standard of literacy with as few spelling mistakes or grammar deviations as possible. I like when people I interact with have a good grasp of writing.

3) Don't beg for tasks, ask politely and with humility. If I am in the mood, I will deign to grace you with my attention.

4) Don't pester me with multiple asks or messages. I don't mind spam likes/reblogs or tons of asks/messages, but when it starts venturing into self-deprecating or begging for attention, I'm liable to block and move on.

5) Respect my privacy and boundaries. I work hard irl and just want to have a fun relaxing time. I also deal with mental illness so sometimes I'll go inactive for awhile for my own sake. If I say I'm dealing with something for instance, give me a bit of breathing room and assume if we were using the red/yellow/green light system that I just invoked a yellow or red light.

6) I primarily soft-domme. I'll do harder stuff if I like you, but it's emotionally taxing and if we do that, I need aftercare. If you don't think a domme should ask for aftercare, just don't bother speaking with me.

7) Irl I struggle with body image issues that I'm trying to work on. Don't ask me about my height, my weight, my size, or just anything about my real body. If you want a picture, and I really enjoy your company, I may send something. But for fucks sake I am sensitive about my appearance and it drives me up the wall when people demand pictures.

8) My preferred honorifics are: Mother, Goddess, Mistress, Queen, or anything that conveys a sort of maternal or holy authority. Mommy doesn't convey the sense of knowing acknowledgement that I like. Fellow tops, dommes, or casual visitors to my blog can instead use "My Lady" or "Your Grace" if it pleases them.

9) If you want more of my attention, think of me as a queen or cult leader with tons of sycophants and menials I deal with on a daily basis. I like intelligent, independent people that show enthusiasm and respect. I like *interesting* people. You aren't just preening for my attention, you should be trying to court me or curry my favor. I tell everyone they're my favorite, but if you actually want to be more than a tool for my pleasure then you have to show me or teach me something interesting.

10) Anyone identifying as a man, he/him pronouns, or masculine honorifics should first show respect and submission to me before sending asks or dms.

With this all in mind, welcome to the Courts of Love, and the Cult of Pleasure~