#not sure if these tags are used much but i dont wanna tag everyone and clog their notifs so this works

[bellespawn]

best house on tha block babyy

[fadewalking]

Bellara lowkey pissing me off with all this feeling guilty bs

[itsalwaysdark]

like i wouldnt mind like. Not having new linear games post 5 its judt that sims 4 wasnt even supposed to Be The Sims 4 it was a last minute pivot and the base code is so outdated and was broken On launch so like. i just wish we could have the final actual sims game be like. one that was always intented to be a major sims release AND be intended to be so long term . yk

[dimeadozencows]

There are a lot of great tags on this post, and a lot of different and unique takes on gaster which i always love to read :DD but i dont think i managed to evoke what i wanted to with this drawing

We know that gasters aware hes in a video game, but so many characters in undertale are aware of that already. One of the things that make gasters situation different is his ability to look at our world directly. He's aware that we've been looking for him and trying to understand what and who he is, he knows these last few years were dogshit for everyone on earth and mentions it in his pre chapter 2 tweets, he knows our life outside of our tempering with these worlds

And unlike other self aware characters in undertale, he doesn't experience time and the resets. He "lives" outside of what we can control. He truly remembers all that we've done while being unaffected by any of it. So while other self aware characters (im mainly thinking of sans and flowey) know that theres a person behind frisk whos controlling time, they're affected by our choices and (for the most part) can't judge it from an outside perspective

Sans is mostly unaffected by our inputs, and he does manage to judge us in a very impactful way, but he can't be a completely uninvolved judge. He will (understandably) react to us killing his brother and on certain neutral endings, as much as hes trying to hold his unfazed facade together, he's struggling with the thought of how much of his happiness you took away, even if he knows a reset will likely happen and everything will go back to the way it was. Understandably! This game is his world. Even if he knows its just a game that gets reset its still his home and the people he loves are its residents. He can't be unfazed by everything. he is nice to us when we're nice to him, and he hates our guts when we give him reason to. And he will always forget us after a reset and react to our actions only on the current run, not being able to know who we were to him before.

And flowey acts as the embodiment of this games message, he is our mirror and, in his words, he is who we will become if we exhaust this game of all it has. He exists to judge us, but he can do so only from his own point of view. He's judging our actions, our choices in this world as if we we're stuck inside it the way he is, which we aren't. That's not to say his judgement isn't impactful, that would just be. incorrect to say lol. But he can't interpret what he sees us do in a fully unbiased way because he's in a very similar, but not identical, situation to us. While we can enter his world and play the kind way, we do get bored and try new things, like picking the other, more rude dialogue option, or killing a character to see what a person who loves them says. even if we don't fully want to. Just like he said! But while we both went through the same process, there's a difference between us. We can leave. We don't have to grow apathetic and detached from these characters. We don't have to start seeing them less as people and more as repetitive lines of dialogue. If we're bored, we can leave. Play a new game. Come back when we miss them and see those familiar lines of dialogue and feel nostalgia, not dread. And he knows that we're a person that has a life outside of this game. At the end of pacifist he desperately tries to make us stay. But he doesn't see what our life is like, he cant see what we do with our days outside of his world, so he can only see us leave and return and leave and return, and judge us through his (flawed) world view and based on our actions within a world we enter for fun.

Thats not to say they're not written well? They're the fucking coolest flowey and sans rule.(i think the info dump proves my stance on them) I'm just saying that even if they know about us they cant fully judge the situation from a neutral point of view because they have a limited world view and they're affected by our choices, which gaster (as of now) isn't

And we don't know a lot about him. But we do know that he knows hes in a video game, that he knows we control his world and its linear time, that he lives outside of that linear time and is unaffected by our inputs, that he used to experience time linearly before shattering, that he had people he cared about in undertale, that he saw everything all of us did when playing undertale, that he is kind to us in the current deltarune chapters, that he knows of our lives and what we go through, and most importantly in my opinion, he knows that we (fans of utdr) use fiction as escapism

We've had characters judge us and berate us for our misdeeds, who are fully justified in doing so since we did hurt them directly. But they also cannot see the situation from an outside perspective. No character in undertale sees us separated from their world, as a person who lives a life outside of tempering with undertale, to them we are just a god who takes control of their reality, all they see is a cruel person who entered a world just to destroy it, or give everyone freedom and then just take it away in a second, they don't see how small their world is in comparison to ours, they'll never be able to understand that our actions in their world are (for the most part) inconsequential to us. they cant see us beyond the red soul.

so imagine with me for a second, a character within the game who is not only aware of the fact that he's in a game and that there's a player who controls time, but who also has the ability to SEE the players' lives through the internet. A character who has the ability to see the horrors of everyday real life and how much people struggle with it, and see that some deal with those struggles using fiction. And not just any fiction, the fiction that the character itself lives in. A character who knows that these great beings, much bigger than him, use the thought of him and his world to get through the trials and tribulations of their lives, hardships that are horrific in completely different ways than his world ever had. A character who knows that they find comfort indulging in his world and finding everything it has to offer, because whatever his world has is much more pleasant than theirs.

He knows that to us his world is just a video game, one that remembers and we're not above consequences in, but still a video game. One of the most common complaints i hear about UT is that it is preachy in its message, and players shouldn't be berated by it for playing certain routes or making certain choices (but one of the points of the game was that there is an alternative way to complete it so why choose violence BUT that is a whole conversation in it of itself and this is long enough already)

So what if the game understood? What if the character who created this game, this world, knew that it is just a game and didn't judge the player? What if the character accepted that he is only fiction and saw the beauty and purpose within it, and how he can use his position in this situation to connect with us and allow us to escape our hurt for just a little while? What if he saw the hardships we've endured and empathised with us? What if he understood that we don't view his world as real like he does and we just use it for our fun, to escape, the way a child happily plays with a toy? What if he felt for us, and encouraged it?

Deltarune (initially) not having a way to really hurt and kill people makes me think that while gaster wanted us in this world for whatever his larger goal is, and wanted us to indulge in it, he didn't want us to hurt anyone. But he saw what we did with the previous world and knows that warnings, consequences and the visible and audible hurt of the characters won't stop us (in fact, it will encourage us), which is something he accepts and understands. it's said that his own curiosity brought him far in his endeavours so perhaps he even understands our curiosity and why we just have to see what would happen, as morbid as it is in universe

But i love that we (without the help of noelle, a game breaking pro) cannot kill anyone. He didn't even give us that option. He isn't completely detached from these worlds since he used to live within them. He still views the fictional characters in the game as real while also knowing us, our lives, and the way we interact with the characters. And he loves and cares for both.

Letting us escape into a nicer world while keeping the residents of it safe from us.

And that is of course assuming he isn't tricking us into a false sense of security to teach us a lesson, and isn't lying to our faces every time he talks to us kindly and thanks us. but i think that after an entire game and a whole cast of characters who taught us lessons and took control away from us and showed us what an asshole we are for playing the game in an unkind way.. i think it'll be a really nice thing and a breath of fresh air to have a character who knows what they and their world are to us on a realistic scale, see why we sometimes act so detached from its ways, and understand that yeah, it is just a game. And we do the things we do as a means to escape. And that it isn't necessarily a bad thing to interact with games in this way (to me that sounds like the most self aware character ever written). But also see the characters within it as real (since he used to be amongst them) and protect them from our worst.

Truly and wholeheartedly loving and caring for both his family and the person who barely hesitates to strip them of all their joy before murdering them too.

Kissing the hands of the man who killed his son

I have endured what no one on earth has ever done before

I put my lips to the hands of the man who killed my son

[millersfinest]

untethered³ | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 8.1k

series: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three (you’re here!), chapter four

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: +18, lmao flip phones, r and ellie NOT beating the cheating allegations, more use of y/n then i would prefer, she/her pronouns, afab anatomy mentioned, some vulgar language, fuckgirl!ellie (kind of), the millers, r is a writer (she doesn’t write much in this ch wink wink), dina being a bitch, more horndog ellie, r being a little self-deprecating, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, jealous ellie, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is still very jealous of cat, hella angst, rich!abby (one of r’s evil exes), emotional cheating (from ellie), r using abby for sex, repressed emotions, crazy mature chapter (wasn’t intentional lmao)

note: lmao guys, i just wanna say as i proceed with this series… i do not agree w cheating on your partners DONT DO IT. don’t be like ellie (or the reader), it hurts people’s feelings and it’s just not worth it. i hope i tagged everyone who wanted to to be. bisous little lesbians/sapphics in my phone <3 please, enjoy this dramatic ass chapter x

Normally, you wouldn’t be so pliant with Abigail—letting her hands drift toward the small of your back. Clearly, expressing her attraction, because she lost that privilege a while ago. But, you were weakened. And with the burning dark irises of an old friend into the back of your frame, you couldn’t help but let her. It was like she was some sort of cloak of invisibility. Some made up thing in your head ease your spirits.

You met Abby about a year ago, 2004, at some high profile event your agent made you go to. Isa introduced you as an aspiring author to anyone that she could, getting your name out there—which was a good thing, but horribly embarrassing at the time.

Abby was there with her dad, a well-known general surgeon in the city; when she was still in medical school. Wanting someone to talk to, you offered her a drink; a flute of expensive champagne. You didn’t hide your attraction to her, but you approached her with an open mind. Fortunately for you, the night consisted of flirting and great conversation. She was smart, and you loved smart women.

Give or take a few months, you withstand her busy schedule—dating each other, giving only a sliver of intention to one another. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but what you did know is that you couldn’t stand flakiness. Abby began to flake on you a lot; whether it was for her friends or work or school. For work and school you understood, but even then there were days you spent laying around each other completing your priorities. Somehow in the midst of your temporary romance, she began to cast you aside. Maybe it was because you weren’t drowning in money like she was. Or, she just didn’t like you—both were awful options.

Taking the lead, because you’d rather dump than be dumped, you broke up with her—she then hit you with: we weren’t in a relationship. Which was rough on the ears and heart. That was the first time you actually tried with someone in a long time, and she fucked it up. You learned your lesson, though.

The two of you didn’t speak for a few months, but then you called her on a very lonely night, begging for warmth. And, ever since then, it’s been off and on—you playing hard to get and her playing wanting to have.

In the bar, with your hand clutching your cold, cheap cocktail, you walked with her in the direction of Ellie. Abby had her eyes set on her friend group, so she didn’t realize you were slowing down. “I’ll catch up with you…”

“Oh—“ She looked down, seeing the table of three practically gawking at her. Abby made a face that was unreadable. “Don’t make me have to come and find you.” She purred in your ear, slipping her arm from around your shoulders. Abby was such a show off when she wanted to be, which was more often than not.

An uncomfortable smile rested on your lips, hand waving, shortly, to the three sat at the rocky table. Ellie looked completely taken aback, leaning forward on her elbows. “Who the fuck was that?” Ellie whispered as you slipped into the seat she saved for you. Her jacket was placed on the back of your seat, holding it for you.

“Hey, y/n!” Jesse spoke, grinning ear to ear, leaning back in his wooden chair.

“y/n,” Dina said, plastering a fake smile on her glossy lips.

Jesse snickered, taking a sip of his beer. “Is that all you? Goddamn.”

“She’s just a friend from New York…” You waved a hand, dismissively.

“We just watched her feel you up and buy you a drink. Some friend she is.” Ellie countered, glancing over her shoulder at the tall, muscular blonde sitting with her friends. And, weirdly enough, Abby had her eyes on her, too.

You scoffed, holding up a hand. “Okay, she didn’t feel me up. Just forget it.” Shaking your head, you replaced that stern look on your face with a smile. “Anyway, how are you guys? It’s been a long time.” You wrap your lips around the straw sticking out of your drink. The sweet tangy flavor of the alcohol mixed with cranberry juice spreading over your tongue—easing your worries.

He glanced at Ellie, briefly. So fast, you almost missed it. Almost. “I’m doing good. Just moved into my new place in Boston. How about you, Dina?” Jesse raised an eyebrow, nudging her arm.

She stirred the ice in her water with her straw, raising a thick eyebrow. “I’m great.” Dina responded, simply.

“Great.” You say, sipping your drink, awkwardly.

There was silence between the four of you that could only be classified as awkward, uncomfortable and tense. Ellie boring her big eyes into the side of your face as you, purposely, ignored her. Dina no longer having a reason to speak because of your sudden appearance. And, Jesse, well… He was normal. If anything he was trying to fight the demon that was the awkward silence.

Ellie shook her head, a scoff falling from her lips. Abruptly, she stood up, walking over to the bar. Even though her beer was barely touched. “What’s wrong with her?” You mutter, watching her get up. She motioned for the bartender, and you watched them fill up a shot glass. Her slender frame leaned over the bar top, on her toes. Pale skin exposed between the belt holding up her jeans and the hem of her shirt. You couldn’t help but let your eyes linger there—places you’ve touched with the pads of your fingers…

“I don’t know… But, I’m curious. Be right back.” Jesse stood to his feet, taking his beer with him. Leaving, none other than, you and Dina left alone.

Chewing your lip, you slide your drink forward, looking her in the eye. Perhaps, it was the liquid courage settling in your muscles. “Things shouldn’t be weird between us… Ellie wanted me here.” You felt the need to defend your place. Ever since that day, she always seen you as some predatory figure—now, that you think of it… She had even before that day. Just did a better job at hiding it. You were the predatory animal chasing over your gullible and prancing prey—Ellie

“Yeah, and sometimes she doesn’t know what’s good for her. So… I’m sure she did.”

Ouch.

You physically coiled at her words. A dry, pissed scoff fell from your lips. “Fuck you, Dina.” You cursed, leaning back in your chair. Ellie could never do wrong in her eyes—it was obnoxious. Did she have a crush on her or something?

She dryly laughed, shaking her head. “Fuck me?” Dina raised an eyebrow. “Look at her!” She jutted her brown eyes in her direction. “Every time you’re around, she ends up looking that. A wilted fucking flower.” She scolded you, causing you to follow her eyes. Jesse spoke to her with intent eyes. Ellie ran her hands through her hair, eyes shifting side to side. You didn’t know what they were talking about, but it seemed serious. “Just face it, y/n… You’re the common denominator here.”

The common denominator. What an interesting choice of words.

“She’d probably have a better night if you just leave. Go home. Let blondie over there take you home… Or a taxi. I don’t care.” Dina turned her face from you, like you were nothing.

Your hands began to shake and tremble from her words. The muscles in your face twitched and heated up like a furnace—eyes welling up with pained tears. You sniffled, standing up from your chair. Trying every which way not to make a fuss—saving face. She was always such a bitch! So, instead, you rushed to the bathroom with the stiffest posture. Heels stalking by Ellie and Jesse with eyes set on the women’s restroom to unleash your fury.

It was like a gust of wind passing her, Ellie’s words trailed as she unloaded onto Jesse about where her minds been. He was, probably, the only person she could even share it with. Dina didn’t like you very much, she was too emotionally involved. Jesse wasn’t bias and could give her proper advice—it was just up to Ellie if she wanted to follow it or not.

Ellie confessed that the feelings she had for you hadn’t gone away. Something he already knew. But she explained it like an act of a possession—as if the softness of your skin, the beauty of your features, the smell that exuded from you was a spooky presence that just won’t leave her alone. A poltergeist. It was becoming a carnal need the more she saw you.

But what about Cat?

What about her?

Then, on cue, you passed her. Ellie only caught a glimpse of your face. Jaw trembling, the sound of your emotional hiccups. Immediately, her olive eyes shifted to the young woman left at the table. She clenched her jaw, shaking her in disapproval. “Jesse, can you get a fucking handle on her?”

“Easy, Ellie. Don’t talk about her like that. She’s just looking out for you— or trying to.” He told, shifting on his feet. “…And she’s pregnant.”

Her eyes widened. “What?!” Jesse motioned for her to whisper.

“Shh! I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Dina’ll kill me.”

“You guys aren’t even together—“ Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Congratulations.” She intoned, running her hand through her hand. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go check on—“

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll talk to Dina.”

Meanwhile, you paced around the single person bathroom. Purse thrown to the ground, makeup smudged down your cheeks. Fists clenched at your sides, and every few minutes pounding a spot on your thigh that inflicted enough pain to briefly distract you from the pain inflicted on your heart. Dina doesn’t understand! You’re not a bad person for what happened that day. When will Ellie get the heat for what happened? Why does it always have to be you? It was always your fault.

So much time has passed, meaning you’ve thought about the altercation for a long time. Hell, it was all you thought about at times. You should’ve never put your hands on Ellie that way—you knew that. But, she shouldn’t have pushed you to do it either. That was her mistake. Pushing and prodding at someone she claimed to love. Ellie was aware of that, too. She wrote about it in that letter she hand delivered on her eighteenth birthday.

Wringing your hands out, you heaved. Emotions still weighing heavy on your heart. Her words cut you like a knife—triggering you. Before you met Tommy and Maria Miller, life was so much harder. Everything was your fault and your birth parents—and the numerous foster parents that you had—made sure that you knew that. It wasn’t fair then, and it wasn’t fair now.

What stopped your progressing thoughts was the gentle call of your name, and a soft knock. It was Ellie.

“Go away!” You sniffled, leaning over the sticky sink to get a look at your appearance. It was a tragedy.

“Please, just let me in. I don’t know what Dina said… But, I’m sure it was fucked up— look, she has her reasons.”

“She has her reasons—?!” You exclaim, looking at the door through the reflection.

“But that doesn’t make it right. I know.” You heard her lean against the door. “Please, y/n.”

Wiping your face, you sighed. Sniffling, you walked over to unlock the door, gulping. “It’s unlocked…” You spoke, weakly. Positioning yourself with your back against the sink, you crossed your arms. Watching her push inside the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Ellie pressed her back against the door, observing you with the softest pair of green eyes you’ve ever seen. It was charming. Through her thick eyelashes, pelvis leaning forward—like she was a child in trouble.

“I’m so sorry about Dina. I should’ve never invited you… I just thought things would be different.” She frowned, fiddling with her fingers in front of her body. Her fingernails had chipped black nail polish on them; focusing on that was easier than focusing on her.

“Well…” You dryly chuckled. “You thought wrong.” Slowly, you drag your eyes from her hands, to her face—avoiding her eyes, though. “Apparently, you’d be better off if I left… Or died; if it were Dina’s way.” Your voice trembled, tears falling from the corners of your eyes. Dina didn’t tell you to die, but that’s what her tone told you. All you were doing was existing. If that’s what stressed Ellie out then… Fuck. Maybe you should just croak, huh?

Ellie ran her hands over her face, taking quick steps towards you. “Fuck— I don’t know why she said that.” Her hand ran through her straight hair, frustrated at herself and Dina. “I—… I do want you here. She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about.” She reaches a hand out for you, but you flinch. There was a slight height difference to the pair of you—your heels caused you to look down at her. But, you weren’t looking down on her.

She was close enough for you to notice the orange-brown flecks in her irises. The ones you missed… So much, and desired wholly. However, you pushed yourself into the ceramic sink, fighting temptation. “Don’t tell me you actually believe what she said?” Her doe eyes looked up at you, demanding a response.

“I don’t know… It’s more than that, Ellie.” You analyze her features as inconspicuously as you could—which wasn’t possible. She noticed everything because she was doing the same thing.

Your bodies drew to each other like the opposite sides of conjoined magnets. Eyes intertwining and overcoming like they always did. Tensions were high, and you were in an enclosed space—your stomach rumbled with anticipation. “Tell me what it is, then.” The feeling of her fingers sliding up the curve of your elbow caused you huff, moving to the toilet to sit down. Cold air replacing where her fingers attempted to tether to you.

Ellie sighed, bunching her hand into a fist at her side. She knew what she was doing—after all, she was a pusher. It was hard to identify when to stop.

You dropped your head into your hands, forcing even breath from your lips. “It’s just… Old shit, okay? Dina struck a nerve.” You glanced at her through your hands, lips quivering.

Ellie took your previous spot, pondering. She knew about your life before your parents—how awful those people treated you; and she couldn’t understand why. You were a scorned person, like most of the kids you grew up with, but underneath it all you were soft. She’s witnessed that softness. And she will regret it for the rest of her life that she was the one to pull you from that that—all for dumb proof of trauma.

She realized too late that she was never alone in that traumatic suffering of the adoption system. After that day, she never wanted to see you hurt like that again. Or at all. Ellie wanted to make everything up to you.

Seeing those tears staining your cheeks; she wanted to kiss it better.

“I’ll talk to her.” The words fled from her mouth. Her old converse squeaked toward you, squatting before your sat figure on the filthy toilet. You turned your head, shutting your eyes and shivering at the thought of her. “Hey,” Her fingers grazed your jaw, pulling your eyes into her line of sight. “I will. She crossed the line— this isn’t my favorite version of you.” Her eyebrows deepened, pressing her lips into a firm line. She wanted to be level with you—not above or below.

Those words were music to your ears. Supple in its raspiness. The warm touch of her fingers on your face, you leaned into her hand. She had a favorite version of you? You reached up, gently gripping her wrist to pull it from you. Ellie shouldn’t have been touching you like this. But, even so, your bodies somehow gravitated toward one another. Eyes staring at each others parted lips, wanting. Needing. Her hand bracing on your thigh, pulling herself closer until your lips met.

Soft and forbidden. You gasped against her mouth, pulling away for a brief moment. Her olive eyes were pleading, and you just couldn’t say no. Being a victim of your flesh, your hand found its way to the back of her neck to pull her lips flush to yours. Mixed whines coming from the both of you; lips merging and meshing together. Creating something beautiful.

Every time you were physical with someone they were missing something. This was it! The passion, the history—the things that matter. The fucking chemistry; it was all there with Ellie. And, deep down, you knew that it was the only place you were going to find it.

She pushed into you, being guided by her carnal desire. Whining and growling into your mouth. Hands gripping at your hips, and the side of your backside. Ellie was hooked under a spell you concocted—some aphrodisiac that exuded from you. And she wanted to breathe more of you in until she couldn’t anymore. She was gluttonous.

Breaking her trance was a rough knock on the bathroom door. The two of you basically jumped apart; you falling into the toilet, nearly touching the water, her falling on the floor. Some of the glitter on your lips had rubbed off onto hers—it looked nice on her, but that was besides the point.

“Some people need to piss! Get out of the fucking bathroom!” Some heavy handed woman exclaimed from the other side.

A smile spread on her lips, hazy eyes watching as you pulled yourself up. “Fuck, Ellie. Why are you smiling?” You walk to the mirror, taking a look at yourself. You and Ellie had just kissed. The same Ellie who’s girlfriend is waiting for her back at the guesthouse. The pressure was already hitting you like a ton of bricks—Ellie was right, you had a terrible poker face. How could you forget about this? “Can you hand me that?” You pointed to the purse beside her.

She chuckled, standing up from the floor. Your purse was in her hand as she walked up behind you, handing it over. Her other snaking around your hips—clearly, still overcome. Taking the purse, you smack her hand away. “Enough!” You scold, deepening your eyebrows. She pouted, crossing her arms. Leaning her back against the wall, shutting her eyes. But it was soon replaced with a smirk.

Your fingers rummaged through your purse for your lipgloss. “This didn’t happen… This never happened…” You muttered to yourself. Once you found the sparkling tube, you began to apply it like a nervous tick. “I still don’t know what you keep finding so funny— nobody can find out about this, Ellie.” You turn to her, dropping your lipgloss back into your purse. “What just happened isn’t fucking funny—“

You were a homewrecker, a thief of girlfriends—watch out New York!

“You’re spiraling.”

“Yeah, and I have every reason to. This isn’t me. I’m not this person. You have a girlfriend!”

Ellie watched you ramble with a look of in awe in her eyes—you were fucked, and so was she. “I remember…” She couldn’t compel herself to care about the repercussions of hr actions; Ellie just wanted you. Even more now than before. She was given an inch, and she was ready to take a mile. Perhaps, longer if that was possible. Your ethics only made her want you more.

The glitter on her lips distracted you, causing you to reach your thumbs near her lips to wipe away the signs of you. Her wide eyes looked up at you, hands wrapping around your wrists. Where did she learn this type of behavior from? VHS porn?“Ellie, will you quit it?!” You stomped your foot, squeezing your eyes. “Fuck me.” You whisper to yourself, adjusting your purse.

“I’ll see you at home…” You mutter, placing your hand on the door handle.

“Am I not driving you?”

“No. You’re gonna stay here, mingle—fuck, I don’t care.” You shook your head. “Abby’s gonna take me home.” The words rushed from your lips because you were thinking and speaking at the same time. You needed an alibi and that’s what Abby was going to be.

The auburn-haired woman rolled her eyes, scoffing under her breath. Jealousy peaking inside of her like it did earlier. “Abby. Abby… The buff blonde you walked into the bar with— the one who was feelin’ you up.” She popped the p sound, nodding her head with searching eyes.

“She wasn’t feeling me up. I don’t think you know what feeling up looks like.”

“Show me, then.”

Your jaw almost dropped from its hinges, gasping at the woman before you. She was shameless, and you were the complete opposite—it was a recipe for disaster. “Like I said… I’ll see you at home.” You opened the door, slipping through to allow her some privacy. The people must’ve opted for the men’s restroom. Fucking freak. You thought, fighting the amused smile off your lips.

Adjusting your top, you approached Abby’s booth. She was surrounded by familiar faces—you knew them-ish. “Abs, can I talk to you for a second?” She looked up at you, blinking with slight confusion at your state.

“Oh, hi, y/n!” A short-haired woman grinned, wiggling her fingers at you.

You smiled at her, while Abby shimmied out of the booth. Taking her hand, you led her away from her friends, keeping her large hand in yours as you began to speak. “I know it’s early, but could you take me home? Like, now?”

She deepened her eyebrows, a hand dropping to your face, wiping at the mascara stains that had run down your cheeks. “Are these tears?” She bunched her eyebrows, gripping your chin and moving your head side to side. “I saw you run to the bathroom—“

“It’s not important, all right?” Your eyes peer up at the blonde woman, pressing your lips into a line. Pleading and batting your eyes at her—you really wanted to go home. And you weren’t necessarily doing it for Dina, it was more so because of her. As well as the fact that you had just made out with a woman who was spoken for. Whose girlfriend who is only ten minutes away, and who also offered to get champagne for Thanksgiving after you mentioned its absence. It was currently, probably, chilling in the fridge as all of this unfolded.

While you semi-sensually begged the woman to drive you home in her Jaguar, Ellie had gotten herself together in the bathroom. After you left, she released a joyful laugh once the door shut behind you. As if she had finished with making out with the hottest girl in school—very teenage-like. Her cheeks were flushed, blushing a warm mahogany through her freckles. You wanted her just as much as she wanted you; the kid proved that much.

But, then, a pang of guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. A fragment. Very small and minuscule.

It wasn’t right away; Ellie was certain that you thought of her to be cold based on how she was handling the situation. She had a girlfriend and found the situation amusing? You’re right—nothing was funny about what happened before you fell into the toilet and before she fell onto the floor. The both of you had managed to dig yourselves into a hole that she didn’t want to get out of. And she was sure you felt the same—she hoped you felt the same. Holes were fun, right?

Ellie wanted to keep digging deeper, and deeper, and deeper. She wanted to envelop herself with you, just like she used to. However, this time, she wasn’t planning on letting you go.

Cat was just something—someone she had to deal with in the meantime. She’s gonna fix it… Ellie just doesn’t know how, right now. She can’t think straight. Pun intended.

Leaving the bathroom, she checked her cell. Noticing the few messages her girlfriend had left her during the short period of time she had you to herself. Her avoidant nature caused her to skim them, then slap her phone shut.

“Everything good?” Jesse questioned, watching as she approached the table.

Ellie shoved her phone into her front pocket. “Yeah… Everything’s fine.” Her olive eyes averted to Dina. “Dude…?” She squinted her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Els. I went too far, I know.”

“I’m glad you know.” She sat in her chair, glancing over at you talking to the buff blonde. “What you said was fucked up, and I should be more mad at you, right now…”

She sighed, pouting her lips. “Well, thank you for your mercy, sire.” A smile creeped onto her lips.

“Dina,” Ellie narrowed her eyes, shaking her head.

Jesse side-eyed her, pressing his lips into an unimpressed line. She looked over at him, lips parting. “Just tryin’ to lighten up the mood. Excuse me.” Dina deepened her eyebrows, sliding down in her chair.

Ellie chortled, shaking her head once more, making sure to swing it far to get a glance at you. She watched you follow Abby back to her booth, telling them that you were leaving. Her hand guiding you, rubbing circles on the back of your hand. Fuck, that should’ve been Ellie. She hated watching you lean into her like that—shrinking yourself. That wasn’t you.

You were bold, opinionated, and despite your strict upbringing, you never shrunk. If anything, Maria and Tommy’s parenting gave you confidence. That used to intimidate Ellie, but it didn’t anymore. It influenced her.

As you walked out with Abby, Ellie gave an awkward wave, but you snapped your head in the other direction. You needed to clean your pallet, and that’s exactly what you were planning to do in that shiny black Jaguar.

When the door opened, the brisk, autumn air hit you, cooling your body down. But your mind was still set on using Abby as a cleanser—a handkerchief to wipe you of your mistakes.

You feigned a straightforward destination, giving her the address of your childhood home. But, halfway, you told her to pull over onto a dark dirt path. She made a joke, asking: Is this where you kill me and steal my car?

And you respond, full of need: I don’t want your stupid fucking car. I want you. Launching yourself over the center console, wrapping your arms around her face. You swing one of your legs over to straddle her in the driver’s seat. Hips grinding against her, shoving your tongue down her throat like she was going to leave you. Although, she wasn’t going anywhere—not with you on her lap, anyway.

Abby groaned into your mouth, gripping your ass over your jeans, pushing you harder against her. Messily, you begin to trail your lips down her jaw, toward the softness of her neck. Urgently nibbling at her skin. “Fuck, you’re eager…” Abby muttered through her heavy breathing. “I like this version of you.”

This isn’t my favorite version of you. Ellie’s voice echoed in your head. It frustrated you.

Warmth built up under the crotch of your jeans; the thick seam doing very little for the pleasure you wanted. “Please, Abby…” You breathed into her ear, tugging at the silver ring through her cartilage. “Touch me.” Reaching for her hand, you place between your legs, cupping her hand as she groped you. Meeting her eyes, you taunted her, chewing on your bottom lip.

The blonde didn’t hesitate, unbuttoning your jeans and shoving her hand inside. She was always quick to give rather than receive—listening to any command you spoke. As the pads of her fingers contact with where you needed her the most, you sighed. “You’re so wet for me already…”

It was debatable whether it was for her or not. With your eyes squeezed shut, you imagined the earthy, olive eyes of your past lover. The softness of the her lips. The desperation in which she put her all into pleasing you—it was experienced before. But, at that point, you were amateurs. So much has changed since then. You were curious how much, though. “All for you.” You whined, rocking your hips against her hand. Lying through your teeth.

She pressed two fingers into you, pushing a moan from your throat. Hands gripping her shoulders, bracing your weight. You imagined them to be her fingers curling deep inside of you—pulling sounds from you like a puppeteer.

You were worser than you thought.

Abby was supposed to be a pallet cleanser, but instead she was just a vessel for your horny fantasies.

The palm of her hand rubbed against your clit, pushing you closer to an edge you wanted to fall off of. A tightness built in the pit of your stomach—burning like a prosperous flame; standing by to erupt. “Ah… Fuck, yes!” You lewdly affirmed, fingers gripping the roots of her hair, back arching into her. The smell of lavender shampoo wafting into your nose from how close you were.

Ellie would never wash her hair with lavender shampoo. She stuck to sweeter, muskier smells. The one’s you liked.

Your legs trembled around her hips, jolting with every stroke and thrust. Her ministrations intensifying causing the sounds from your lips to get louder, laced with desire. “Abby,” You trembled with a warning tone. “I’m g—gonna… Fuck, I’m comi—“ Your choppy words are cut off with the snapping of a band in your stomach—spreading over you like a brisk gust of wind. Shocking your body into a brief state of paralysis against her strong frame.

She coax’s you through your orgasm, with that same come hither motion that got you there to begin with. Although, she was so quiet. That’s when clarity hit you, as you shakily rocked against her hand. Reaching down, you grip her wrist, kissing the pressure point under her ear. “Can you check the time f’me?” You sweetly ask, still subtly, rutting against her.

Abby checked the watch on her wrist. “Eleven-something.” She hummed into your neck.

“Eleven-somethin’, huh?” You tease, lifting off her, trying to settle back into the passenger seat. “I should probably get home…” You zipped and buttoned your pants. Normally, you’d be eager to return the favor, but your plan didn’t work—and, frankly, that irritated you. That nerdy, auburn-haired, freckled woman, that you knew so well, had burrowed herself under your skin already. It was a recipe for disaster.

There was a twitch in Abby’s brow at your sudden departure from her. She felt that bite of coldness; it was something she wasn’t used to. Nonetheless, she drove you home. With you leaning on the window, watching dark, shedding trees pass you by. All the way until you felt that familiar shift from side to side as you cruised over the gravel that led to your childhood home.

“How long are you gonna be here for?” You asked as she pulled to a stop, where Ellie’s car was previously parked. It was out of courtesy to wonder; these parts of town wasn’t really for people like her.

“Until the end of the week, then back to work.” She turned toward you, pushing her hair behind her ear. “When am I gonna see you again?” Record scratch. Abby Anderson has never asked you that. She was always aloof and carefree. I’m too busy. Let me check my schedule.

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips. “I’m really tying to spend some time with my family, but— uhm… I’ll call you, okay?” Leaning over the console, you place a lush smooch on her lips—riding on the confidence from her lack thereof.

Getting out of her expensive car, you adjust your clothing before walking into your house. Thankfully, the lights were off, meaning your parents were asleep. Thank, God. You looked awful, and you preferred not to be questioned on your state, Ellie’s whereabouts, and who took you home.

Gently, you shut the door behind you, keys jiggling in your hand. Slipping out of your heels, you tiptoed toward the fridge just to prove something to yourself. The white light from the fridge illuminated your deadpanned expression as two tall bottles of champagne sat on the second shelf. Nobody likes champagne that much. You rolled your eyes, scoffing under your breath.

Cat didn’t deserve any of what happened tonight, and you hated that.

When you got to your bedroom, you wasted no time to peel the clothes from your body. Falling atop of your mattress like a starfish. Before you slipped under the covers, you pulled your laptop onto your stomach to log into your MySpace. There was a red notification on your activity icon. When you click on it, StarlightWilliams had added you back—you were mutuals now. The pads of your fingers touched your lips, remembering the softness of hers from that moment in the bathroom. The pressure of her slender fingers gripping your sides—wistfully you sighed, slumping your head against the fluffy pillows and stuffed animals against your headboard.

Suddenly, your computer makes a sound—a ping. You sit up, squinting at the incoming notification.

kit_cat79 wants to be your friend!

What a coincidence. The website exposes whether you were online or not—you couldn’t hide from her. So, you decided to add her back. Cat’s picture was of her with her tongue out, dark bangs styled to the side. You didn’t realize that she had a tongue piercing—could she get any cooler? Maybe you should get a tongue piercing.

Her mood hadn’t been recently updated, but it was: Optimistic.

Her bio didn’t over explain much, but said more than her freckled counterpart: my name is cat and i do tattoo’s !! message me for inquiries (or ur a loser). Your eyes and cursor skimmed her account, not paying attention to the smaller details. Quickly, you navigated to the pictures and videos. There were some pieces of her work, candids of Ellie, pictures of her at band shows—

kit_cat79: hey… i know it’s late, but that was you who just got back, right?

The messages appeared at the bottom left corner of the screen, blinking green.

BugsWritersRoom: Hey, yeah. That was me…

Duh.

kit_cat79: i thought you went with ellie in her truck. also… where is she? she’s not answering my texts.

Was she worried about her? Or was her questioning coming from a place of distrust? Or, a secret third option... you had a bad case of paranoia.

BugsWritersRoom: She’s still at TB. I’m sure she’s just distracted catching up with Jesse and Dina.

kit_cat79: oh…

kit_cat79: that was some car you pulled up in...

She was wanting to start conversation, but you were too tired. You didn’t want to think about, or talk to another person about Abby. Let alone, talk about her with Cat. No offense. Sleep is the only time when your mind was going to finally rest, and you can resume thinking tomorrow.

Leaving her message on seen, you shut your laptop, pushing it to the side. You took Cat’s message as a sign to shut it down, reaching to click your lamp off.

You allowed sleep to take over, cuddling into your pillows as if it were a body. Hitching your leg over it, tugging it to your chest. Could you have been more evident in your loneliness? In your restless dreams, your brain scoured for something to show you. Something relevant, of course.

Olive eyes, freckles, prominent beauty mark—it was obvious what images it was looking for. Ellie.

By the time the sun lingered on the horizon, a tragic alarming song sang in unison to wake you—the sound of your ancient alarm, and the sound of the rooster sat atop of the chicken coop. Groaning into the pillow you held, squinting your eyes open. It had pulled you from a dream that was… Certainly, a dream. It was untoward, lewd; just straight up nasty.

There was a wetness between your legs that was the first to get your attention. Out of shameful curiosity, you reached your hand under your shorts; hoping it wasn’t your period suprising you. Pulling your fingers out, there was an absence of the dark hue that was a symbol of your menstrual cycle. It was fairly clear, shiny, and slick. You were a victim of a wet dream. How juvenile.

The sight of it only made your hornier. So, while you still had time, you jumped for one of the bags you brought. You were expected for morning chores, but there was always time to rub one out.

Taking the battery-powered silver bullet from you bag, you attempt to switch it on but it doesn’t respond. You even switch the batteries around, blowing into the port. “Come on…” You complain, but it still it doesn’t adhere to you.

You groan, falling back into your pillows. There was nothing wrong with going old school, but you were a creature of habit.

Sliding your hand down your body, you slip under your shorts and underwear. It didn’t take long for you to completely rouse yourself, blinking your eyes shut to fall into your imagination. Usually, the best material was your most recent hookup—or some celebrity crush that you couldn’t get over.

The movement of your finger mirrored a strong blonde who always aimed to please you. You could imagine yourself gripping her long, silky hair, pushing her into your pussy—devouring you. Feeling her hands gripping your thighs, anchoring them to the mattress.

You relished in the feeling that was slowly washing over you. So much so that when the image of blonde hair began to fade and be replaced by short auburn strands, you barely noticed. Subconsciously, replicating the dream that kept you snug as a bug all through the night.

Your ministrations quickened as you neared finality. Bottom lip slipping between your teeth. Soft, repressed moans sneaking through them as your hand clutched your breast, thumbing your sensitive nipple. The serotonin levels increasing with every swipe and slide. Fuck, El—

Downstairs, the artist peeled dried paint from her fingers, waiting for you. Staying out late knowing she had to get up for chores was a huge mistake. There were many mistakes that happened last night. Another being, ignoring Cat’s messages. Ellie pulled into the driveway not too much later than you—it was nearing one o’clock.

When she entered the guesthouse, shrugging off her jacket—with a mind busier than New York City herself—Cat was found in the small living room. With her thin eyebrows bunched together and her arms crossed over her chest. Dressed in nothing but a fitted tank top and cheeky underwear.

Ellie had looked at her with a stressed look, “What are you still doing up?” Walking past her to the bedroom to undress and unwind. Cat scoffed, following her to the bedroom. Slippered feet stomping behind the artist.

“What am I doing up?!” She chided, twitching toward her. “I’ve been texting you all night, Ellie. You couldn’t respond to one?”

The freckled woman plopped onto her side of the bed, kicking off her shoes. She pretty much saw the messages as they were coming in; Ellie just didn’t have the nerve to respond. She didn’t feel like it. Not after what happened in the bathroom—she couldn’t come back from that. Hell, she didn’t want to come back from that. The only image replaying in her mind was your lips on hers. Your hands imbedded in her hair. The wanton sounds coming from you that she wanted to hear on again, and again, and again. That feeling of being between your legs...

And, let’s not even get into how it felt to see you leave with Abby. That ruined her whole night. Not even Jesse could cheer her up.

She ran a hand through her hair, looking over her shoulder with a tired expression. “Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” She began, standing to her feet to remove her jeans. “We just got too carried away talkin’ and whatnot.” Walking to the bathroom in the bedroom, she shed her shirt from her body. Ellie found it too easy to lie—she’s always been good at it. And, Cat was pretty gullible. But she had to throw a monkey wrench in there to really calm her down.

“Turns out… Jesse got Dina pregnant.”

“What?”

She turned on the shower, then peaked out of the doorway. “Yeah, how crazy is that?”

The tattooed girl fell onto the edge of the bed, eyes casting toward the ground, full of uncertainty. “Super crazy…”

Noticing the subtle dejection in her features, Ellie sighed. Leaving the doorframe as the shower ran hot in the background. She appeared before her, reaching her hand down to lift her chin. “Kitty Cat,” Her voice was soft and oh, so forgiving. “I should’ve responded to your texts— I’m an asshole. Let me make it up to you…” She sultrily offered, caressing the softness of her chin with her thumb.

And that’s what she did. Ellie made it up to her girlfriend of almost a year. By fucking her in the shower hard enough to make her forget about all of her uncertainties.

She had a long night.

This morning, she got up an hour earlier to get a better start on her sketch—she even started incorporating her oil paints. That’s what was stuck to her hands. The coloring in of her portrait of you in front of that shed. She felt the need to freeze that moment in time; where you embraced each other in the arms of company for the first time in too long. That hazardous kiss you shared in that sticky bathroom at the Tipsy Bison inspired her to color in the lines.

“I normally hear her up and movin’ around… She’s taking longer than I thought she would.” Maria commented, munching on a buttered bagel. “How long were you two out last night?”

Ellie inhaled, lifting her eyebrows in thought. “I got back around one, but y/n came back earlier than I did. She got a ride from a friend.” She shrugged, the ends of her lips curling, mischievously. “I think her name’s… Abby.” Ellie added, glancing between the two parents.

“Hm. What made her leave early—?” Tommy began to ask, but he stopped himself. He frowned, leaning his elbows on the counter, peering at the auburn-haired woman across from him. “How’s Dina doin’?”

She chuckled. “Still pissed, if that’s what you’re getting at?” Ellie went from peeling paint off her fingers, to fiddling with them. “They got into a bit of a…”

“Fight?” The blonde woman questioned, deepening her arched eyebrows. She never liked hearing about you fighting—or seeing it. That was a strictness Maria was never going to get rid of. Tommy used to get into fights a lot, finding himself locked behind iron bars at the county jail. But that was years before he moved to New York. When he still lived in Texas with Joel.

“No.” Ellie bunched her eyebrows in defense, shaking her head. “It was an argument, but it didn’t last long. I handled it.”

Steps sounded from the stairs, silencing the three. Pairs of eyes peered up the stairs, hoping that it was you stalking down the steps—but it wasn’t. When he began clearing his throat and coughing, loudly, they knew it was Joel. “Goddamnit…” Tommy rolled his eyes, slapping his hand against his thighs.

“Good mornin’ to you, too, Tommy.” Joel scoffed.

He huffed, licking his lips. Just like you did when you grew irritated—Tommy’s antics had rubbed off on you. “Is there any signs of life from my kids' room—? Because she should’ve been down here five minutes ago.” He looked to Joel before glancing at his watch. “Maria and I planned for her to teach Ellie how to do our grocery shipments.”

“Grocery shipments?” Ellie cast her earthy eyes toward Maria.

“It’s a lot of information, but I’m sure you’ll catch on just fine, Ellie.” She placed her hand atop of hers, pressing her lips into a smile. “If only your teacher could be timely…” Maria sighed.

The freckled artist stood up straight, pursing her lips. “I can go check and see if she’s up…” She offered, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m sure she is— maybe she just needs a little nudge. I had rough time this mornin’, too.” To be frank, offering to grab you from the second floor of the house was clouded with selfish intentions. Ellie hadn’t seen your bedroom since she was seventeen. She couldn’t help but wonder if anything had changed.

And, she wanted a useful reason to talk to you.

Your parents are wondering what the hell you’re doing— also, how was our kiss from 1-10?

Hey, you’re supposed to be teaching me about grocery shipments, right now— hypothetically, would you kiss me again… Or?

She was such a loser for you; she always has been. “If you don’t mind. I’m sure she’d appreciate seeing you more than me.” Tommy chuckled, nudging his wife but she barely broke a smile. Staring her husband down with icy, blue eyes.

Ellie’s eyebrows twitched, but she decided not to interact with whatever happened there. Quickly, moving to the stairs to find you.

What she could remember about your room was the pink wallpaper and the posters. You used to be very persistent in upgrading old ones for new ones—saving the old ones in your closet. She found it amusing how you could never get over anything; you liked to collect things. As many things as possible—posters, collectors items, superhero figurines—you were an undercover geek!

The fascination you had with catwoman was insane. But, understandable.

The stairs of your home was guided by many picture frames. Pictures of you lining the walls. The bottom starting with photos of you when you still went heavy on the eyeliner and hairspray; gradually preceding with much happier images of you. The final photo being the whole family together, including Ellie. It was taken after your college graduation, in front of the house. You were sandwiched between your grinning parents while Joel and Ellie were on both ends; her sporting a timid smile, and him grinning just like his brother.

She was so proud of you that day, but didn’t dare to enunciate that how she really wanted to. At the time, the shoulder you gave her was ice cold. Brisker than the harsh weather of the east coast.

When she emerged at the top step, the first door in front of the stairs was cracked open. But that wasn’t your bedroom, that was your parents’ bedroom. Down the hall, to the right, after passing an open floor planned media space, was the guest room. Where Joel was spending his nights. A little further down that hall was your bedroom.

It was the best spot in the house. Your bedroom have the best view of the front of the house, and was far enough from the prying ears of curious parents.

Neither you or Ellie were innocent teenagers—you both couldn’t wait to get some alone time, and you couldn’t keep your hands off each other once you started. It was the perfect place for late night shenanigans.

Again, some things never change, huh?

Strolling toward your door, Ellie raises her hand to give a soft knock. But she pauses at the faint sounds coming from under your door. Breathy whines, the light rocking of your old, rickety bed frame. Could she hear just how wet you were from outside your door?

She leaned closer to the brown door, her bottom lip slotting between her teeth. Ellie wanted to be sure she was hearing correctly, of course. She heard you cursing and swearing, but nothing shocked her more than when she heard you squeak her name. “Fuck, Ellie…”

Apparently, Ellie wasn’t the only one who was overcome. Wanton sounds filled her ears like a mantra before she decided to interfere. Knock, knock! She heard you gasp.

“It’s Ellie... Your parents are gonna throw bitch-fits in T-minus five minutes if you’re not downstairs soon.” Ellie kept herself composed, using her hand to hold her weight against the wall. She heard you shuffling behind your door, cursing under your breath.

“I’ll be down in, like, five minutes!” You shout, the sound of quick maneuvering being heard from Ellie’s side of the door.

She wanted you to open the door, just to get a glimpse of that blissed out look on your face—Ellie anticipated that flustered look. Forgetting about her own blushing cheeks after hearing you say her name while touching yourself. She felt like a fucking king.

Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she walked to the media space. Lifting up CDs, VHS tapes, and eyeing thick books that haven’t been touched in years to pass the time. Fuck, Ellie—still played in her mind like a record. There wasn’t any scratching, only smooth playing; no interruptions.

When you appeared from your room, dressed in your working cowboy boots, a long-sleeve Abercrombie shirt and bootcut jeans—there was a shit-eating grin that just wouldn’t leave her face. Ellie turned around to lay her eyes on you, unable to help but ogle. “Do you have a condition that you’re not mentioning? Perhaps, a tumor—? Since you can’t help yourself when it comes to laughing…” You grumble, placing your hands on your hips.

Your words only made her smile more. The more time the two of you spent together, the more snarky you were becoming—she missed that. “Turns out, under some circumstances… I can be a morning person. Some circumstances.” She muttered, mainly to herself but she didn't mind if you heard. Ellie deliberated with herself on whether she was going to expose what she heard you say… Or, if she was going to hold onto it. Similar to how victorians put the hair of their lover’s into lockets.

“Whatever, Els.” You rolled your eyes, loosely calling her by that nickname, again. Ignoring the harshness of her eyes, you passed her to descend the wooden stairs. There was still a mindless sleepiness to you. It was charming to your past lover, as she followed behind you—floating on air. Thinking about how great of an idea it was to come back this year.

And, still, Ellie was barely harbored with guilt. Even more so when she inspected your features, intently. When her thoughts wandered into the gutters of her creative mind—spreading you wide in all of your glory.

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt , @hopingforgoodblogs , @lia-winther , @macaroni676 , @tobiotruther , @anewkindofloove , @fatbootymuncher (i love your user lmao) , @maiaska

[heart4caitlin]

— Paige Bueckers gf headcanons

ummm

clingy gf?? like i can just see her all up on you some days especially after a long practice or losing a game

she has the worst photos of you… youre sleeping on her bed, hair all messy, mouth wide open?? shes got it and posted it on instagram stories

i can see her flexing on everyone about you. maybe yall went on a date or something and she wont stop yapping to her teammates about you

being late to practice because she doesnt wanna get out of bed with you :(

rests all her weight on top of you when cuddling, just needs to be close to your after a long exhausting day

“babe, i can’t breath”

“oh well”

stares at you with so much love in her eyes. could barely hide yalls relationship online, ESPECIALLY DURING A LIVE… she stares at you when you talk and its so obvious that she was deep in it for you

doing her hair PLEASE. i know she has that one hairstyle she wears all the time BUT, what about making her try out different ones just to play with her hair?

probably steals your clothes too. couldn’t find a hoodie for a month and then you joined kk’s live one day and paige was wearing it

username: paige is that my hoodie

“i don’t have your hoodie, what?”

dragging you out of bed so she can go buy trufru bc she ran out…

if you dont play basketball she is so forcing you to learn. bringing you to the court just so she can show you how to dribble and shoot a three pointer. she claims youre the best basketball player

if you wear make up i feel like she would help you get ready. like that one live with kate wanting to do jadas makeup ugh. would so help you and make sure to tell people she had done it

waking up in the middle of the night to her all up on you. cannot sleep in the same position at all. literal star fish position half the time. she’ll have her legs all up on you, an arm slung over your chest and all

if you ever wake up and have to pee, youre screwed!! paige is not moving off of you, she wants you in bed until it’s time for her to get up

her always wanting to help make dinner with you, especially if you love cooking/baking. she probably has a folder of recipes to use

back to the second bullet point, she has so many photos of you. has a folder named “my girl” or something cute and its photos and videos of you

makes you do tiktoks with her and kk… she’ll even kick kk out some of them so its just her and you

the fans go CRAZY over you. the amount of edits both of you get tagged in oh lord

she definitely has a folder full of edit of you because she thinks youre so pretty in them

would love getting into your interests as well. for example, you like reading?? she wants to buy every single book she sees just for you. she’ll sit there and let you go on and on about the book

i can imagine her wanting to do your nails too. but if you get them professionally done then she’ll send so many ideas for you to pick from

this is all i can think of at the moment!! thank you so much for reading, please reblog for me<3

[pastryvroom]

love of your life | mason mount

summary , where the very much mourned couple of the uk football/youtube scence reconnect

note , i am back from hiatus so dont be a dry reader or i’ll make the angstiest fic ever with no happy ending 🤭

yes, i’ll get stressed out if i can’t read you!

[tagged: ethereal, model.company]

❤️ liked by masonmount, gkbarry_, and 1,502,326 others

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yourusername deal if free primes in the negotiation 🤝

behzingagram @yourusername good luck he won’t even give it to the sidemen

gkbarry_ im omw with a vodka cranberry that has your name all over it!!

user is this going to be affordable? because id love to support you but im a struggling student at uni

yourusername when me and the team were working close together a big concern of mine was overpricing because i wanted this to be affordable and accessible for everyone, but to make sure we are bringing the best we possibly can we as team have had to price it up at around £15/£20 for more advanced medical products but everything else on the site is pretty affordable 💕

user hopefully this helps my cystic acne because if im going to listen to anyone its going to be a past cystic acne girlie 🥰🥰

model hi yn it was amazing working with you on the shoot!! the range is amazing 💗

yourusername omg hi beautiful!!! i loved having you on the shoot & i look forward to hopefully having you back in the future 👀🫶🏻

[tagged: ethereal, gkbarry_, bestfriend1, bestfriend2]

❤️ liked by masonmount, gkbarry_ and 1,303,201 others

yourusername it was so amazing getting the chance to celebrate something that has been my biggest passion ever with the people i hold most dear in my heart. i would not be who i am or where i am today without you (i need those passion fruit martinis again 🥰)

bestfriend1 we brought the house down with our rendition of girls just wanna have fun 🎤

yourusername nobody held a chance quite literally

benchilwell @yourusername tell me about it you threatened to bite me when i reached for the mic

ksi 🔥🔥

user how did mason let her slip away mother come home pls 🙏🏻

gkbarry_ you looked so sexy let me wife you up x

yourusername come right here then im waiting 🥰

behzingagram you know its a good night when i found faith in the bath tub this morning

user help!?? faith is just like me

bestfriend2 those passionfruit martinis need to come back asap so lethal but so yummy!!

yourusername girls night next week!! we’ll try to make them ourselves can’t say it’ll be successful 😂

bestfriend1 @yourusername that’s what makes it more fun

user omg i need a friendship like theirs rn!!!

user i will never get over how beautiful you are

user OMG SOMEONE TOOK A VIDEO OF MASON AT THE CLUB

user SHUT UP WHERE CAN I FIND IT

user its on twitter so basically its a full 2 minute video of him just staring longingly at yn all night, like whenever she moved his eyes followed her. it wasn’t till chilly slapped him on the back did he stop staring. this man was transfixed i tell you 🥹🥹

user why can’t they just see what’s in front of them 😩😩

[tagged: masonmount]

❤️ liked by benchilwell, declanrice and 3,250,129 others

yourusername be the love of your life

comments on this post have been turned off.

[mochinomnoms]

Hellooo

Congrats on your 1K!!!🎉🎉🎉

I discovered you blog recently and I am HOOKED, your writing is so tasty and fluid that I just keep going ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

I Hope you dont get too tired with requests, take breaks and drink water!!!

Ok for the actual ask, may I have a dialogue 19 with Eyedress, and if it were suggestive it would be perfect

Preferably Ruggie💞 you can choose the other 2 (If you even want to)

ruggie bucchi x gn!reader [tags] — suggestive, tiny bit of hurt but not really [wc} - 1, 025 prompt 19 “I try to find a reason to pull us apart"” song: Kiss Me Like It’s the First Time (Eyedress, “Let's Skip to the Wedding”) note - Ruggie canonically calls you a puppy. take that with what you will. francesca (1k event)

“Kiss me like it's the last time/ You'll fall in love / I always want your love”

Ruggie knows that compared to everyone else on campus, he was the bottom of the barrel. He wasn’t a prince, an heir to a fortune, or even from a well-off family. Sure, his Grandma was a wonderful lady, maybe a bit strict growing up, but besides her and their home, Ruggie didn’t have much to offer. Maybe if you weren’t in such a bad spot, if you had a good family here, if you hadn’t been plucked from your world with nothing but the clothes on your back, he’d be happy to call you his own. 

But he can’t. How can he when you have people willing to drop thousands of thaumarks on you like it’s nothing. Literally! He was listening to Kalim run his mouth as he talked about renovating Ramshackle to your preference. 

“Oh! And we can get you quartz countertops! What kind of colors do you like, I can have it made to your favorite aesthetic! Ooh, what if we replaced all the appliances to match it? The kitchen back home has a gas stove built into the countertop, we can replace—”

“Uh, I’d need gas for that though, right?” You laughed, splayed across Ruggie as you two lay in your bed. Kalim was on video call with you, having gone back home for the weekend for some sort of event. You’d been complaining about one of your kitchen cabinets breaking and letting your few plates tumble out. Thank the Seven that they were plastic dishes. 

Kalim being, well, Kalim, immediately went into a tangent about adding in a gas line to your dorm and adding this and that. Everyone was acutely aware that Kalim, as generous and kind as he was, was especially sweet on you. There were even some rumors that he had a crush on you, something that made Ruggie feel ill. 

You just laughed off Kalim as he continued to whine about fixing up the dorm. You ended the call as you cheerfully told Kailm goodnight. 

“Do whatever you want Kalim, I won’t complain about free renovations! Good night, say bye Rugs.”

“Hmm? Oh, bye Kalim.” Ruggie gave Kalim a small smile and wave, who returned it with a beaming grin. 

After a few more words between you and Kalim, you finally ended the video call, tossing your phone to the night stand, and moving to straddle Ruggie’s hips. 

“What’s wrong?”

Ruggie blinked up at you in confusion. “What?”

“What’s wrong? Your ears are flat, they only go flat when you’re upset.” Ruggie whimpered as you leaned down to flutter kisses down his throat, shuddering as you pressed your teeth against his Adam's apple. 

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong? You jealous?” 

“Mmh, no I’m just—aaaAAAaaaAhH!” Ruggie yelped as you dug your teeth into the nape of his neck, suckling until you were satisfied with the bruising red mark forming on his skin. 

“Geez, give a guy a warning, won’t ya?” Ruggie let out a breathless chuckle, his chest rumbling as he purred from each kiss you pressed up your neck as you hovered over his lips. “You’re nothing but trouble, Puppy.”

“And yet, you love this trouble, don’t you?” The sound of your kissing, mixed with gasps and sighs from both of you echoed in the room.

“Now tell me,” Ruggie tried following your lips as you pulled away, but you kept him pinned to the bed. By now, you’d managed to throw his shirt across the room and traced your nails down Ruggie’s chest. “Why are you upset? Was it Kalim’s call? You know, he just likes to say hi sometimes.”

Ruggie pinned his ears flatter against his head, huffing as he looked to the side, though be traced his hands up and down your arms. 

“Nothin’, it’s just that Kalim sure likes to spoil ya. You know?”

You hummed, waiting for him to keep going. 

“I’m just saying, he’s really sweet on you. Maybe you should consider taking advantage and marrying the guy!” Ruggie laughed, though it sounded forced. 

He stopped as you clicked your tongue, leaning back down to bite at his cheek. 

“Hey! You know your teeth aren’t really sharp enough for that.” Ruggie chuckled as you stopped and pouted, looking up at him as you batted your eyelashes. 

“Hmph, it’s like you just wanna get rid of me.”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“That’s what it sounds like!” You argued, huffing into his neck as you pushed yourself against his chest and neck, like you were trying to mold yourself to him. “You always do this. If I didn’t want to be with you, I would’ve left already…”

Ruggie sighed, rubbing the skin between your shirt and bottoms with his thumbs. “I know, I know. I just think that you oughta take advantage. Kalim’s not the only one, and you’re all by yourself here! Get yourself a rich boyfriend, and you’re set for life!”

You suddenly grabbed the back of his head, pulling at his hair to make Ruggie expose his neck again. He whimpered at the rough touch, though his tail was wagging rapidly against the sheets. 

“And why would I do that?” His hand slid under your shirt and up your spine. He gently scratched your back as you shuddered into his touch. “When I have such a lovely boyfriend?”

Lips molded against each other, teeth clashed, and hips rolled as Ruggie, once again, failed to push you away. Instead, as he slipped your shirt off and moved to give you your own love bites and hickeys, Ruggie moved to bring your bodies closer together. Ruggie let himself lose himself in you once again, and would continue to do so. Again and again, until he found another half-hearted excuse. 

But for now? 

You pulled away again, breathless and flushed. “I just want to spoil my hardworking hyena, won’t you let your Puppy do that?” The down right heady tone in your voice, in that low, soft whine, made him hot in all the right places. Ruggie nodded, giving you the okay to wreck him. 

For now, he’ll indulge, shamelessly, in you. As long as you’ll continue to have him. 

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[moonchild-in-blue]

Massive thank you to you and everyone else who calls out how shitty it is to get mad at peoples interpretations. Sleep tokens music is romantic. Its also toxic. These statements can coexist. Its not your business if someone plays bloodsport or vore or hell even atlantic at their wedding. Youre not them, you dont know what the music means to them. If you see a weird take just roll your eyes and move on, its not a big deal. Absolutely sick and fucking tired of all these "why are you calling this romantic/sexy? Youre stupid and a terrible person!" takes like fucking relax. Media literacy is important yes. Respecting that this music is dark and personal to vessel is also important. Same goes for respecting how people relate to the music in dark ways. But as long as people are not saying things directly to vessel or fans about how their individual trauma is sexy then just chill out and respect peoples different interpretations. It sucks that i cant talk about how i view certain songs without being called horrible things and having really fucked up vitriol aimed at me. Yall need to grow the fuck up and get over yourselves. Im not thinking of your personal shit when i call a certain song romantic/sexy, i dont even know you, sometimes im thinking of my own trauma actually lol. Lets all discuss this music maturely where we respect each other and what each of us as individuals bring to the table for interpretation, stop making this fandom toxic as hell for anyone who doesnt agree 100% with your own interpretation. (Also the whole "youre not allowed to say this song is romantic/sexy" thing is very dismissive of some peoples trauma in itself, it ignores how messy someones feelings toward their abusers/toxic partners can be. Pretty fucked up to call a trauma survivor stupid or a terrible person because a song reminds them of their positive feelings towards someone who hurt them) Anyways yeah, just tired of people being so harsh because they refuse to see other peoples perspectives. I genuinely think one of the most toxic aspects of this fandom is the vitriol over different interpretations, people act like outright children at times with it im ngl, especially with more sexual discussions. It also feels infantilizing towards vessel at times, hes a grown adult who put romantic/sexy elements in his music and he doesnt need people trying to protect him from those themes. Im rambling but this stuff pisses me off so much, this fandom needs to do better

Context post for the clueless ones - regarding my tags/replies

Here's the thing - I've been in fandoms for many, many, MANY years. This type of discussion isn't anything new nor unique to Sleep Token, but it sure does make a comeback quite often. It's tiring to keep repeating the same things over and over, but that's what fandom is all about isn't it?

Someone needs to say something, and I am not one to shy away from uncomfortable conversations like these. Something something, build your own community, be the change you wanna see, etc etc.

I've said pretty much everything I wanna say already under that post, but for the sake of clarity, and because I can't keep my mouth shut apparently -

Under the cut for length - you know the drill:

Music is art. And art is subjective. Meaning, each individual will have their own personal connection and interpretation of a given piece of art, which in this case is Sleep Token's music.

Did Vessel write the songs with a certain intent or meaning? Most likely yes! It's not hard to connect the dots and guess what events/emotions might've transpired and served as inspiration for them (accuracy to personal life is irrelevant and none of our business, but it's also no rocket science to understand what's been said).

Can we establish a base meaning for any given song, or better, can we have a general consensus of what a song is about based on its lyrics and themes? Absolutely! Not every song is like that, but we can all agree there's a lot of recurring themes of past relationships and mental health struggles.

Is it wrong to diminish the songs to one basic element (eg. the sexual undertones) and/or completely disregard the bigger, more important theme? I'd say it is.

Giving Atlantic as an example (which as a lot of you know, is my most favourite song of them and very dear to me): this one has some very blatant references to suicide and depression. Regardless of whether it is based on irl events or not (none of our business!!!), it is extremely heavy and emotionally charged. I find it incredibly disrespectful when people say random stuff during the rituals when he plays this one.

Or for example, how certain people reduce Sleep Token to "baby making metal", instead of acknowledging the insane (insane!) variety of genres and the profound lyricism they present.

Should we limit our views, and by extension, those of others, to surface-level interpretation, without allowing room for different views and interpretations, either fictional lore based or not? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Vessel himself said to "not restrict ourselves to labels or genres because music transcends it all" (paraphrasing here). It's literally their whole thing. It's very hypocritical to be shouting from the rooftops about "media literacy" and assuming people are stupid or idiots for not understanding the basic, surface-level meaning of a song, when Vessel himself constantly writes in metaphors and half-truths.

I've touched on this a lifetime ago on one of my analysis, but if you *actually* look at the lyrics, you'll realise Vessel hardly ever says what he means. There's always something else behind his words, something he purposefully keeps hidden. It really sneaks upon you sometimes! I'm over a year in and I still find something new everyday on their music. That man has a way to weave in a hundred and one statements under a single sentence, that is just truly beautiful to study.

Is, say, The Love You Want, about a man (Vessel) mourning the fact that his love isn't reciprocated? Yeah! Is it about someone who, despite knowing they can never receive from their lover the attention and affection and care they want, will stay by their side anyways? It is!

Is it about bitterness, spiteful accusations aimed at the one person who should love you fully? Or a reflection of how little self-regard the singer has, so much that they are willingly and actively choosing to stay in a sinking one-sided relationship, because the alternative is too painful to bare? Can you flip the switch and see it as someone who is obsessively pursuing another person, and painting themselves as a victim? All of this, yes!

You can even eliminate the romantic aspect all together and apply it to a relationship with the self (past or future, or an alter ego), or a parental figure. The options are endless. There isn't one universal truth when it comes to music, and as such, all of these takes are 100% correct.

Many statements can be true at the same time - it doesn't make one more true or correct than the other. Simply different. The way we connect with music is very much dictated by our own life experiences, and no two people have lived the exact same life.

Can you prefer a certain way to look at a song, or completely disagree with certain takes? Absolutely! I know I sure as hell do! That's normal and expected and part of the fun in being in a community such as ours. More people means more ways to look at a song - isn't that just wonderful?!

Now, this is very obvious for most of us, but some people, especially in the younger rage, have been taught to look at things in a very black and white way. Not to be that person, but the truth is that the rise in awareness of social issues and "pc-ness", is slowly starting to eliminate the possibility of things being flawed and nuanced.

If you're wrong, you're awful. If you're right, you're obnoxious. Made a mistake? Get cancelled. Grow from your mistakes, but not like that. Learn from your actions, but change your whole personality in a day otherwise you're problematic.

You know what I mean.

Life isn't black and white. Art isn't black and white. Music isn't black and white. What may seem like a toxic, dark, obsessive depiction of a relationship to you, might translate to the deepest and most truest of loves to me. I can acknowledge something is Not Right, while still drawing my own conclusions.

Is Blood Sport a sad af song? Yeah! Definitely not the first thing I'd think of when in a happy relationship. But maybe that's the point. And maybe I do. And that's okay, and none of anyone's business. "Okay but The Apparition isn't a good example of a healthy and romantic-" TO YOU! Maybe that's what love looks like to me! Maybe I just happen to be into it! And what about it?

Maybe to me love comes with all the ugly sides too. The violence, the despair, the self-doubt. Who are you to dictate what I can or can't think? I highly doubt Vessel would go 🗣️ "WRONG! NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! >:::(", so why would you?

You can, and should, discuss the songs with others! Maybe some people do genuinely need a fresh pair of eyes to help them get to the juicy core of the songs - that's why we're here! To discuss, and exchange ideas! You can, and should, call people out when their engagement with the music is being harmful to others (joking and laughing during Missing Limbs? No bueno. Speculating about Vessel's personal life? VERY no bueno. Choosing a potentially weird song to walk down the aisle? None of your business + not your wedding + you weren't even invited + none of your business. Notice how I've been repeating that. Notice again).

You shouldn't, however, shame and ridicule others for having different views from you.

I think, rather than engaging in pointless discussions and start accusing people of being this or that, we should all exercise a little "don't like? scroll past". Is it harming you or others? No? Then scroll past! Is it an awful, truly horrendous take about something you're really passionate about? Okay! Disgusting! Scroll past! Good for them! 👍

Also - keep an open mind. We're all doing this living businesse for the first time, no one holds all the answers to everything. It's okay to change your mind. It's okay to say the wrong thing and backtrack. It's okay to make a mistake and learn and grow.

You know what's not okay? Being a dick to others because the thing you like is being misinterpreted. It's hard, I know!!! You can block people! You can scroll past! You can look at pictures of your favourite vessel and cleanse your brain!!!! I know I do!!!!!

And this is a last afterthought but - you don't get to complain about the fandom you're in if you're doing nothing to change that. I see many, maaaaany of you bitch about this and that, while having 0 engagement aside from the bitching. Like?? Maybe if you spent more time reblogging cool art or gifs and less time whining about literally everything, this would be a much more pleasant space!! And I DO get to be a little petty here because I sure do try my best to make this a fun and nice community. I am allowed a little bitching 😌

Anyways, tl/dr: don't be a dick; don't like - don't engage; keep an open mind; gaze upon the vessels. Peace and love yall 💙💫

[doodlebeeberry]

It's that time of year folks!!!

Very very excited to host the gift exchange once again! Past two years have been a ton of fun, so lets hope the third is even better!

if you wanna join, just reblog/reply to this post or dm me with what you'd like. full rules, dates, and details are under the cut, please read those fully first before joining!!! :]

Entries close midnight (est) November 27th!!

For the uninitiated, the osc gift exchange is exactly what it sounds like! you let me know via reblog/reply/dm what you'd like as part of your gift--whether that's a certain show, character, ship, oc, anything! Then, you'll be randomly assigned a giftee and will make a gift based on their request. Finally, once the day comes, you post your gift and @ the person its for!

the timeline looks like this:

Nov. 11-27: enter by letting me know what you'd like! as with previous years, I ask that you keep your gift requests sfw, and to please send me references for any ocs you may want as part of your gift. As well, if there's anything you cant do (ie, a character or paring that makes you uncomfortable) please let me know when you join!

Dec. 1: I'll let you know who you've been assigned! please be sure you have dms (or at the very least asks) open for this bit!

Dec. 1-30: Make your gift! this can be anything from art to writing to music to needlepoint--so long as you include the giftee's request, the possibilities are endless!

Dec. 31: post your gift, and be sure to @ who its for in the post! Please do not post your gift before this date!!! if for whatever reason this date does not work for you please let me know and we'll work something out!!

Assorted other things to note:

please make sure your gift requests are osc/ object show related! if you dont know what that is then this likely isnt the gift exchange for you lol

you dont have to do everything your giftee requests if you dont wanna. If they give you a list of 20 characters, you can pick 1, 5, 10, all 20, the choice is up to you!

if you need to drop out for any reason please let me know as soon as possible so I can reassign your giftee

not a hard and fast rule but if you could shoot me a message when you get your giftee letting me know you saw the message, itd be much appreciated!!!

you can not join anonymously! It wouldnt be fair to your giftee, in my mind, if you did :]

on a related note, while i try to make the exchange as open to everyone as possible, if i deem it necessary i can and will bar you from participating if your inclusion would be detrimental to other giftees. while i dont anticipate needing to do so (so there isnt really a reason for you to worry about it) this was an issue last year. In the very unlikely event that I dont let you join, please dont yell at me about it. just accept it and move on.

as per usual, ill be using the tag #osc gift exchange for the event, so feel free to tag your posts so i can find them! :D

And that's it! if youve got any other questions or comments, feel free to ask and ill do my best to answer them! Thank you! ^-^

[bayfuzzball7050]

SIEMPRE SE PUEDE PEDIR TRADUCCIÓN‼️‼️‼️

INTRODUCTION POST AND RULES 🔥🔥🦾🦾🦾🦈🦈

(Edit— 23/09/2024) I kinda got excited writing this ☠️

There’s like a worrying amount of text. I’m not sure everyone can gut how much I wrote 😭😭

But here are like the basics of my blog:

The name’s César or Diego. Call me whatever ya want, idc

I’m a Trans Guy, he/him exclusively.

☆ I got that dawg in me (asd) actually pls be patient im a little slow on some things

☆ Artist — I mostly make jjba fanart (currently insane about it)

☆ Art requests are currently closed!!

When open: I draw anything but nsfw/kinks, complex backgrounds, Steven universe fanart, danganronpa fanart and proship stuff

☆ Writer (no fanfic here tho)

☆ if I use emojis, be aware that most of the time it’s ironic

☆ I make a lot of kys/kms jokes, if you’re not ok with this, please don’t follow

☆ i LOVE spammers, spam likes, reblogs, whatever as much as you like :3 (if ya want to like no pressure)

☆ if ya wanna be mutuals just ask I don’t mind I’ll just check yo vibe and that’s it

Art tag: #my art

Post tag/reblogs where I add something: #​☆ momazos diego

Quality posts tag (aka when I think): #chamber of reflection (reflexionando en la chamba)

Posting when I should be asleep tag: #trasnochadoposting

oc masterpost

brushes I use

☆ art summary 2024! ☆

BY THE WAY!!

☆ I usually don’t add tw (tho I dont post stuff with heavy themes often if I’m honest like I rarely do it) But if anything, be wary

☆ I also always have my notifications off so please don’t feel bad if I don’t answer a dm or anything of the sort

☆ please excuse me if I reblog/like artists who are proshippers, I don’t tend to check blogs before interacting🧍🏽(I’ve gotten myself blocked many times because of this)

☆ also like if they problematic in general like idk if maybe someone I reblogged has been in a big ahh controversy or summ so uhhh forgive me

☆ dni and fandoms im in below the cut

☆ more info abt me and my blog :P ☆

So, I think imma make(try) a dni list but ik it’s ultimately useless cuz like I can’t force ya and im not your dad plus I’m too lazy to look through every blog that reblogs or likes but uh blocklist ig???

It’s just basic dni criteria, but like if ya wanna read ig?

SHIT THAT GETS YA BLOCKED ‼️‼️

(some of these are oddly specific)

☆ zionists, racists, homophobes, ace exclusionists/phobes, anti-Semitics, conservatives, ableists Proshippers, Comshippers, anti-anti’s and profiction mfs, LOL1C0NS AND SHOTAC0NS (KYS…NOWW)Transphobes / TERFS, SWERFS, and radfems, Transmeds/Truscums/anti-MOGAI mfs, Transid, “Transabled”, "transracial", Radqueers in general, NSFW agere blogs (SFW agere it’s cool I don’t mind), pedos/MAPS (I want you hanging on the STREET), Paraphilics in general, Misgendering kink blogs, kink blogs in general actually ☠️, Pro-ANA/Pro-MIA

☆ swifties.

Exceptions and specifics:

☆ I think Selfshippers / yumeshippers are cool thus they aren’t hurting anyone most of the time AND ALSO! people tend to think that transid has therians in it and no, I think therians, kinnies and fictives are cool (dont get it but cool nonetheless)

To be honest I don’t check the blogs of most people who reblog or like but- Ricky…Ricky when I catch you Ricky-

(I mostly notice when I get followed but uh- anyway 😻)

THIN ICE:

☆ dsmp fans

As much as I enjoy the Fanart and maybe the roleplay was interesting I have like personal beef with the fanbase and creators

☆ Hannibal Fans

The franchise is fire but I also have beef with Hannibal fans cuz for some reason most of them proshippers

☆ MHA fans for the same reason as Hannibal fans

☆ Same with South Park

☆ Same goes for Homestuck fans

☆ Same goes for Steven Universe fans. It’s mid btw

☆ ONE PIECE fans, y’all didn’t do anything wrong it’s just that I haven’t caught up with the show 😭😭

☆ NSFW blogs (as in porn/smut)

ANYWAY

Languages I speak:

☆ Spanish (mother language)

☆ English

☆ A tiny bit of Italian

FANDOMS IM IN (but I forget sometimes 😿)

☆ JJBA (what I post about mostly (going insane over this))

☆ Yakuza (I haven’t finished 0 yet)

☆ Brawl Stars (slowly losing my mind over it)

☆ WEIRD AL YANKOVIC

☆ LOST MEDIA. (Believe it or not, im also going insane over this.)

☆ Berserk

☆ Mouthwashing

☆ Madoka Magica

☆ ikigusare (best virtual girl band ever fr fr)

☆ Gorillaz

☆ Good Omens

☆ Moral Orel

☆ Dorohedoro

☆ My Little Pony

☆ Sonic fandom

☆ Undertale / Deltarune

☆ Breaking Bad / Better Call Saul

☆ El Cuarteto De Nos

☆ Azumanga Dioh!

☆ Vocaloid

☆ Project Sekai

☆ D4DJ

☆ Food Fantasy

☆ FNAF (grrrr I love fnaf,,)

☆ Emo / Scene / Scemo (I just don’t have money for clothes nor the patience to make a blog only for that 😭😭)

☆ actually like another shit ton more but I can’t remember 😔

Socials:

☆ Reddit u/BayFuzzball7050 (old account, permanently banned)

☆ Reddit u/BayFuzzball404 (Current Account)

☆ ofc Tumblr

☆ Wattpad and AO3 but we ain’t talking about that 🤫🧏‍♂️

☆ @bayfuzzball7050-art is my art blog (reblogs from here)

☆ @bayfuzzball7050-afterdark is my mature (straight up porn) art blog

☆ ALSO! opened a Pixiv :3

☆ I HAVE AN ARTFIGHT!

☆ Bluesky

☆ Bluesky but it’s just porn

Dis me btw

[blkkizzat]

Hi you’re such an amazing writer and great smut writer!! I was wondering if u had any tips on writing smut cus I wanna start writing it too! Do u have tips on dialogue/action/pacing and being descriptive 😭 it’s harder than it looks!! Ps your suguru bumpy car ride is one of my fave fics!! And I’m excited for sadako!geto 😘😘

hey nonny, pookie tysm ur too sweet! im so glad you enjoy my perversions enough to ask me for advice kcjhdscjkhsdb 😩🩷🙏🏽✨

also sure idk if these will be helpful but these are things that help me:

smut:

i think the cardinal rule of smut writing is if it doesn't make you horny, re-write it until it does. lol.

i am a very visual person so i like to close my eyes and imagine the scene before i write it. not just going through the motions either. if this is me, reader, what am i thinking, feeling (both physically and emotionally).

5 senses (touch, taste, smell, sound, sight) should be covered. not every action needs all 5 but if you are describing something you should at least be hitting two of these. " tears falling, you cry out as he enters you slowly" is fine but "blinking away tears you hiss from the overwhelming stretch of his girth entering you, even slowly, proves to be too much" is better.

sometimes i need a boost and if you partake then a few puffs from a weed pen or a glass of wine (im partial to bubbly) will put you in the MOOD lmfao.

*note i dont think you need to have experienced something to write about it, sex included for any virgins however in lieu of that, with anything you don't have experience in, you need to do research to make it believable.

dialogue:

use dialogue to tell us/reiterate who the character is. you can tell us the character is nervous but then its highlighted by the stuttering, rambling, etc of their spoken words.

break up long dialogue with descriptions. this is also a pacing tip. also can insert memories, i will have readers have a whole dialogue and in the middle their will be a relevant memory to give context and insight to the character and their motivations.

using subtext to explain character feelings, you dont have to be so explicit with dialogue all the time. instead of a character saying "im so fucking mad at you right now," use "alright" your voice is clipped, flipping your hair over your shoulder you go back to your task at hand, not even sparing them another glance.

i rarely use explicit dialogue tags now like "said, spoke, cried, yell" i will still use them but ill weave into the description that follows. ex instead of "please stay!" you cried—i would write—"please stay!" your lip quivers as tears gathered on your lashes.

action:

the last subtext tip also helps with action too, alot of times its what we see that really enriches the dialogue so "show" dont "tell".

this is also a pacing tip but during high action/intense scenes using shorter sentences helps express the urgency. although it all depends as long sentences/paragraphs too can help build tension, slowing down descriptions/actions during the climax (lol non sexual) of a scene builds anxiety/thrill.

explaining emotional reactions of heart racing, sweaty palms, etc, is just as important as physical reactions (even tho these are physiological actions they still are emotion driven).

pacing:

besides the pacing tips above in the other sections i think the biggest pacing issue i think people have is adding in details, actions, etc that don't inform your story. everything action/thought you take time to elaborate on that your character does, should be relevant to their motivations, story or characterizations. if it doesnt apply to one of those then cut it out. (note: sometimes it does apply and needs to be cut out and moved another section if its making a scene go on to long)

edit your stories, i know some people post and go and thats fine. everyone has different goals. some just want to get out thoughts and go. however, pacing can be hard to effectively capture on the first go so you will need to reread at least once to ensure your fic is properly paced.

editing leads into eliminating redundancy. often i will write something where i expressed an emotion/feeling then did it again a paragraph or two down the line just in a different way. unless that feeling is evolving, its redundant. redundant doesnt mean the feeling isnt applicable in both places, it means ive already established this feeling/state of mind in my story and it isnt needed both places. this can be one of the hardest things to identify or even fix. however i think my fics are 100x better when i do.

descriptive:

i think people fall into one of these buckets, 1) having the inclination of being overly wordy descriptive or 2)not being descriptive enough. i am the former, so my issuing is editing is pulling back and giving emphasis on somethings but not others. if you arent descriptive enough you will have to decide where in your story its important to give emphasis.

use metaphors that make sense to the person speaking or narration style. you wouldnt use overly flowery language for example if you were writing how sukuna is feeling about something lol.

hope these tips were helpful!

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Who

February Filth Fest : Day Three

Choi San x fem reader

a/n: i'm thinking about making this into a long one shot because i had so many ideas that i just couldn't fit here

"Who do you love?"

(>ᴗ•)genre:

smut, p w/a little plot

ಠ_ಠwarning/contents:

not edited, lowkey uniform kink, zero build up, step-dad san, dom san, kinda yandere san, clothed sex, age gap(19&30), cheating, fingering, squirting, unprotected(DONT DO THAT UH OH), dacryphilia, pet names (baby & sannie (one use of daddy))

tags: @cherryxsang

SMUT UNDER CUT MDNI

"You think you can fucking tease me like that and get away with it?" His voice is raw, angry- matching the way his fingers feel inside of you. "All fucking day, with you. You don't know when to stop, do you? You'll do anything for attention, huh? That it? You want my attention, Baby?" He curls his fingers inside you, reveling in the way you moan against his hand against your mouth.

Your hips buck against him, chasing your release as it grows ever closer. San notices, quickly withdrawing his fingers in a rough fashion that makes your cunt squirt in the slightest. He grabs onto your messy skirt with his wet fingers, letting them soak the fabric as he uses it to pull you down the bed to its edge.

He can feel you mumbling against his hand, but he pays zero mind. As he lifts your legs up and holds them against you by the back of your thighs, you start to regret teasing him so much. "Please, Sannie." You plead as his hand moves to join the other in holding you down.

"Sannie?" He chuckles, "oh, that's rich, Baby. If you're gonna beg, do it properly."

"Da...daddy, please. Please, let me cum? I'm sorry."

His weight leans on you as he stands and leans over you, keeping his hands in position. You whine as the fabric of his slacks presses against your sensitive clit. He coos mockingly at the small noise. His face right above yours, hovering, he asks. "Sorry? What for?"

"You know what for!" He silences your outburst with his lips on yours, biting harshly and tugging your bottom lip a bit as he backs away.

"I'm sorry, for- for teasing you. For touching you like that at the conference. You looked too good in your suit, I couldn't help myself. Want you all to myself. Don't wanna share you anymore. Want to fuck you when I want." His heart flutters at your confession, taking your lips in a softer embrace.

That's all he ever wanted to hear from you. That's the reason he married your mother. The reason he's stayed in an unhappy marriage with an insufferable woman for five months.

For you. To get you.

Something inside him that's been holding him back for your sake is broken as he hears you admit that you want him just as badly.

"My sweet girl," he moans as you grab onto his tie and pull him closer. "I'm all yours," he speaks as he pulls you just over the edge of your bed. "You're all mine, too- right?"

You gasp as the tip of his cock slides into you. When or how he got himself out was lost to you, your brain filled with thoughts of how good he feels in this position. "Yeah," your hand crawls up his tie and grabs the knot, yanking him down and kissing his jaw gently to distract yourself as he sinks into you at a snails pace. He rubs his thumbs gently over your skin where he holds you down roughly, smirking into your school cardigan as small noises force their way up your throat.

"Take me so good, Baby. Like you were made for me." In his mind, you were. You were made for him, just as he was made for you. You were his, his alone- and he was yours. He would do anything for you. And after your mother was out of the picture, he'd be sure to let everyone know.

He pushes himself up and your ankles instinctively prop themselves up on his broad shoulders. "God," he moans out, biting his lip and leaning his head back, fingers digging into your flesh. When you croak out his name, all caution is thrown to the wind. He holds you down in place, smiling down at your fucked out state in an oddly wholesome way for someone who's fucking into you like an animal.

You struggle a bit, but manage to place your hand over his, picking up a few of his fingers to hold tightly. "Taking me so good," he moans, eyes drawn to the way you hold onto him so desperately. "Making such a mess of your little uniform." Every time he pulls out, he gets a view of the way you are soaking the fabric under your ass as your slick drips down. "All this mess for me?"

"Yeah! All for- fuck- all you," you whimper as tears begin to form. You've cried every time San has fucked you. From taboo shame, or pleasure; you can't tell.

He spreads your legs out to either side and leans back down, grabbing onto the collar of your neat cardigan. "I want you to fucking scream my name."

"Wha- oh my god!" He draws away from you quickly before slamming back down and grazing your g-spot. You hold onto his clothes bicep, begging quietly as tears pool up under your eyes. "Please, Sannie, slow do-" his free hand pinches your clit, making you cry out like you always do, "Sannie!"

"Feels so good, Baby?"

"Yes," you whimper into his shoulder, holding onto him for dear life as he grabs at your clothed breasts and his slacks rub against your clit when his hips meet yours.

"What, Baby?"

"Yes, yeah, feels so good, don't stop."

"Huh?"

You throw your head back, "Sannie! Feels fucking good, don't stop! Love it! Love your cock, San! S'good, so good!" He seems to pound into you impossibly harder, groaning into the mattress as he lays his head beside yours and looks over at you.

"Who fucks you so good?"

He does this often when the house is empty. Asks you so many questions to make you say his name. Makes you scream it.

"San!"

"Who makes you cum?"

"You! San! You do!"

"Who makes your pussy wet?"

"Choi San!"

"Baby," he whines, playful pout on his lips as he slows down just as you begin to see stars on the ceiling. He turns your face and your eyes meet. You plead silently, begging him to continue as he completely stills. How he has so much self control? Neither of you can ever figure that out.

"Please keep going, please, please, I need it. Need it so bad, Sannie."

He ignores you, asking a new question. "Who do you love?" He has to physically bite back a whimper as he feels your walls flutter around him. "Who do you love, Baby?"

"I love you, San. Love you. Want you."

And that's all it takes for him to go crazy.

[hellfiresmaster]

i would absolutely be in love with something inspired by the song Judas (80s ver) by Gemyni. (not sure if this counts as a request)

I love this request so much (and the song). And I'm sorry it took me forever :( but I hope you like it! i am also clearly unable to write a short request sorry aljsifjdsjfhsg

Exit Stage Left

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Warnings: reader and eddie dont like each other but are actually so in love (help), heavy make out, (vaginal) fingering, squirting, a little degrading and praising from our metalhead, pining sort of

Word Count: 1.4K

ADD ME TO THE TAG LIST

"Please welcome Corroded Coffin!" 

The static-filled mic radiated through the small space. The Hideout seemed to be more packed than usual, well, more than the five regular drunks that used to hang around, that is. Tuesday nights were always your favorite. Always hanging around the bar, twirling a cheap plastic straw in your watered-down drink until your favorite band took the stage. Corroded Coffin and a particular lead guitarist that always managed to catch your eye. 

Eddie Munson. Despite being a total asshole most of the time towards you as far back as you can remember, you always considered him sort of a friend for some reason. Suppose you could even call it that. To be honest, you didn't know what to call it; apart from the secret meetings in the forest a couple of times for some weed and an occasional smoke every summer, it was like you didn't even exist to one other. But despite the bickering and unintentional flirting, Eddie made his way under your skin. It was a rarity to see past his harsh exterior, always having his walls up around everyone else, but Eddie offered you glimpses every now and then. Each stolen glance and smartass remark had you falling more and more for the metalhead over the years.

"If you wanted an autograph, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart?" A voice jolted you from your thoughts when you noticed Eddie leaning against the bar beside you.

"You wish, Munson." His sly grin pierced through your tough facade as he chuckled under his breath.

"Well." He paused and slid closer to you; the scent of weed and post-concert musk intoxicated every last one of your senses as you tried your best to keep steady and focus on the drink in front of you. "Aren't you gonna tell me how badass I looked up there?" 

Eddie's tone was arrogant and obnoxious as usual, it should've annoyed you, but you found yourself turned on by it. Asshole, you thought to yourself. Eddie leaned in closer, barely grazing the side of your body, forcing you to direct your gaze toward him. His hair was slightly matted under his bandana, a clearly worn-out Metallica shirt clinging onto his chest and ripped somewhat in the middle, offering a view of his chest and the ink that adorned it. He knew exactly what he was doing. Damn him. Eddie's hand waving in front of you broke you out of your haze. 

"Still got that guitar, huh?" You were desperate to change the conversation to keep Eddie from seeing the effect he was having on you. But Eddie brushed it off.

"I overheard you talking with the bartender. I can give you a ride, you know?" You glimpsed towards the bartender, who gave you a shrug and smirk as he looked at Eddie. "I just gotta get my keys, and we can head out the back." He walked towards a door behind the stage to see you still standing by the bar. "Come on. Stop being a brat; let's go." You reluctantly sighed and nodded as you followed Eddie through the back area of the bar, pretending as if those words didn't just affect you. "So you wanna grab some coffee or something?"

"Now?" His question caught you off guard. "Why would you wanna get coffee with me?"

"I mean, we're friends, so it wouldn't be such a crazy idea.....and who knows, that doesn't sound too bad for a date either." Eddie chuckled to himself while keeping an eye to ensure you were still following him.

"Friends? That's a bit of a stretch." You snickered as Eddie stopped suddenly and turned towards you, clearly irritated with your tone.

"Oh, don't play games with me; you came to my show in this shit hole bar, and you're coming backstage. I don't know about you, but that sounds like you might have a thing for me, sweetheart." The words coming out of his mouth annoyed you more than you cared to admit. 

"I can't stand you, Munson." Your tone was stern as you stopped walking behind him in the narrow hallway, but the way Eddie was staring back at you instantly had you softening under his touch. Your cocky stance faltered long enough for him to step closer toward you making your back lean against the wall behind you. 

"You're lying to yourself. And you fucking know it." He moved closer, pressing his chest against yours, sliding his hand to grab your ass, and then moving down to your thighs. "I still remember what you felt like, tasted like. Even those sounds you used to make just for me." He whispered softly. You were pressed against the wall, the heat between your bodies filling the air between you, making it difficult to think straight as he consumed every single one of your senses. "I bet if I touch you right now, you'll soak my hand with how wet you are for me." You bit back a whimper, threatening to escape when you felt his hand slither around your waist, teasing at the waistband of your panties under your skirt while his lips ghosted over your neck. 

"Beg. For. It." He whispered in your ear through gritted teeth, lingering briefly between every word. The low tone of his voice and the warmth of his breath on your cool skin sent shivers through your body. You didn't say a word, your pride preventing you from begging for the thing you wanted most at that moment.

"Hm. A shame. You're so pretty when you're desperate for me." He continued as his hands withdrew from your body. A slight panic surged through you when you realized he was pulling away—your back arching slightly towards him out of pure instinct, practically burning for his touch again. Before you knew it, you gripped his shirt and drew him back towards you into a bruising kiss.

"Stop teasing and touch me already, Munson. Before I change my mind." The smirk that spread across his face was captivating; he really had no idea how beautiful he was. But there was no time to dwell on that now, not when his hands were already hiking your skirt above your hips and pulling your panties clean off in one move. 

Your hands tangled in his flowing curls when you felt his fingers skim over your folds, gathering up the slick. Slowly, he slipped two fingers into your cunt, making you groan at the stretch as his thumb worked your clit. Eddie began pumping in and out of you as you mewled and squirmed against him.

"You look so fucking beautiful like this. All fucked out on my fingers. Needy little slut. I can just imagine how good you'd look taking my cock so well." He groaned at the mere thought of it. 

Eddie's ring-adorned fingers wrapped around your neck, pressing harder with every thrust of his fingers. You could feel the imprints of each ring already making their mark on you, which only made your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head.

His fingers moved inside you as he dragged them along your walls until you were mewling, clamping down on him, showing just how close you were.

"Eddie..I feel like...I fuck." 

Eddie couldn't believe the sight before him, you of all people letting him touch you like this; it felt like a dream. A dream he never wanted to wake up from. Your clit throbbed, aching for attention as you began to gyrate your hips on him, desperate to feel more. He practically moaned in your ear at the feeling of your cunt pulsating around him, fluttering as he curled his fingers toward that tender spot inside you again and again. 

"Are you gonna cum, sweetheart?" You would give anything to wipe that cocky smirk right off his face, but the building pressure inside was too much to bear. All you could do was nod and whimper, desperate for him to give you the relief you so desperately needed.

"Fucking slut wants to cum all over my fingers, huh? Go ahead, baby. Cum. Cum for me." Your vision went blank as you felt yourself finally let go. Eddie wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you up as you leaned against him, moaning and body jerking from the force of your orgasm. Your juices sloppily leaked over him and covered your thighs and his forearm as you came down from your high. When you finally gathered the energy, you glanced up to see Eddie adoringly gazing back at you, chest heaving with the biggest smile on his face. 

"So, what now?" You breathed out as you adjusted your skirt, and Eddie readjusted but still kept you nearly pinned against the wall.

"Oh, I'm not letting you go just yet. You still owe me a drink."

mini taglist: @wetwilliam02 @luvmunson86 @mariesackler @canonatypical @roanniom @theoncrayjoy

[ivestas]

könig with a confident/badass reader that knows their shit? 👀 im so hrrrng for this man i want to fluster him so bad

blackened valor

Summary: König admires you, so you expose your humanity to him. 

Tags: soldier!fem!reader (call sign “hound”) x könig, reader implied to be on the older side, smoking, barely edited, mentally ill reader, this might be triggering for those struggling with suicidal thoughts so please be careful/dont read! 

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: anon we are literally on the same wavelength, i was earlier thinking about a reader who has that dorky badassery of snake or raiden or literally any mgs character LMAO

Not much was known about you beyond your feats on the field. 

But those feats defined your personhood within any military—the moment a recruiter knew who you were, they’d be on their knees begging for your presence among theirs. 

It was like being a celebrity, except you got no perks and more targets on your back and eyes on you every second of the day, trying to break down your character and understand—understand what, only God knows. 

You were fine with that, though; you get used to it after a while: the praise, the envy, it all becomes white noise over the howl of the wind. 

So it was a normal occurrence when you noticed a set of eyes on you. 

What was abnormal was the one doing the staring. 

An Austrian giant. 

It piqued your interest; a shallow reason to humor since you’ve been in this situation numerous times before, but you didn’t care. 

From your seat in the empty lounge, you leaned back, regarding him carefully.

He couldn’t meet your stare. 

Cute. 

“You are?” You grabbed a lighter from your pockets, popping out a cheap cigarette at the same time. In a swift motion, the cigarette was alight on your lips, and now it sat between your index and middle finger. 

“König, ma’am.” 

“Ma’am?” You couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled out your lips. “I’m ‘Hound’ to everyone, no need for the formalities, save that for your captain.” 

He nodded jerkily. You noted his scrunched shoulders, his stiff poise, and his foot moving in a rhythmic motion. The chair he sat on seemed to bend at the movement. 

"Hey, c’mere.” 

In an instant, he did as you said, walking to you quickly. 

You pat the spot beside you. “Sit, no need to sit on that shitty chair. Pretty sure it was about to collapse.” 

Nodding again, he sat beside you. 

You lift your cigarette to him. “Wanna?” 

König shook his head. “I don’t.” 

“I’d praise you for making such a good health decision, but it’d make me a hypocrite considering you chose to be a merc.” You sighed, taking another puff of smoke. “Speaking of, what’s a timid guy like you doin’ in a merc group?”

“...”

“Touchy subject, eh?” You shook your head, laughing again. “It’s always like that with soldiers—it’s either to pay college debt or to run away from some fucked past.” 

König glanced at you, finally. He held your gaze. 

“What about you, then?” 

“Me?” You hummed, leaning forward now with your elbows on your knees, one hand propping your head up while the other held the cigarette. Looking up at him, you smiled. “Money. Valor. Suitors. I’m a materialist at heart, I love the attention too. I’m super fucking vain.” 

“That can’t be?” 

The way he gasped those words made you grin. He was quickly becoming a favorite. “Then what do you think is the real reason?” 

“Uhm...” His fingers tapped his knee, and his eyes strayed up, deep in thought. Then, embarrassed, his voice dropped. “...to change the world?”

Despite the clear embarrassment, he said the words with unwavering sureness, and it dawns on you that he probably thought of you as some war hero—a pursuer of all that is good for the world.  

When you look at him—properly this time, not an off-handed glance—you can see it in his eyes, the shine. 

You were right. 

In the past, moments like this would be awkward; you never knew what to say, how to softly break the truth that you were just some woman, and the honest truth wasn’t coated in honor and your drive to be a force of good.

But now? You didn’t care. You never had.

“I wanted to die,” you said casually—and it was a casual admission, you didn’t really care, because that was the truth. 

You saw his eyes widen and it nearly made you laugh. 

“I was gonna, you know, kill myself when I was younger. Had planned it out and everything,” you sighed wistfully. “Then, I thought, ‘why not join the military’? Easier to break to my family that when I inevitably died, it was for a cause rather than the fact I succumbed to my own perpetual weakness.”

“It’s not—” 

“’It’s not weakness’ yeah yeah,” you scoffed. “It’s easy to say that because you feel it. We all feel it—the desire to die.” 

The bottom of his hood shifted again, and you expected to hear his words, but nothing came out. 

“But, yeah, I guess after a while of realizing that I’m cursed with some twisted luck of brushing past the grim reaper, I decided to be a bit of a saint and run around and ‘fix’ things, just to stave the boredom away.”

You took another puff, longer this time. “You grow attached to the idea of bringing peace, I think. My advice? If you want to bring the most change, let go of your fear of death. Suddenly, everything’s not so scary anymore...” you smile. “But I’m guessing you’ve already done that, haven’t you?”

König was silent, but after a moment, he nodded. 

“See? Now you’re just as much of a ‘hero’ as me.” You lifted the cigarette. “You sure you don’t want, by the way?” 

“...I’ll try.” His hands were large, dwarfing the cigarette to a ridiculous degree. 

With his free hand, he lifted the end of his hood, and you caught a bit of his face. 

Pretty. 

He sucked in and began coughing right after, lowering the cigarette for a moment. Clumsy puffs of smoke shot out his lips, and after a few seconds, he tried again. 

Still awkward, but a bit better. 

“Ah, you’re getting there König, now you’re just as much of a hero as me!” You reached for the cigarette and took a puff before handing it back. 

He paused before putting it back between his lips, but you notice a flush of pink dusting his pale skin. Even with just the bottom of his face showing, you could see he was... blushing? 

That made you bark out a laugh. 

He’s so fucking shy.

He seemed to have caught on quickly because he quickly moved the cigarette back to you, refusing to meet your eyes, tugging the hood back over his face.  

“Come on soldier, don’t be shy! We’re all friends here, right?” You leaned back and pat his shoulder. “Unless..?” 

He froze under your hand. 

You laughed again, letting your hand rest there. He didn’t push it away, remaining stiff under your palm, head turned away and fingers fiddling with gloves wrapped around his hands. 

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open

[liquidluckandstuff]

Thanks for the tag!, @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts @alenablack

"Self-rec time! What are your favorite five fics that you've written and why? After replying to this ask, feel free to pass on to five other writers to spread the love. 💗"

Darlings and Dragons:

This is my main fic and the one I put the most thought and effort into. I take so long with it because I really really want it to be perfect. Its the first thing that i've ever had that made me feel like a real fanfic author. It is completely self serving and nerdy and filled with a bunch of drama and shenanigans and of course Romance and Dragons.

I've had a long personal character growth in OCs. Like i used to personally refuse to write them because I just didn't get them. Now Dorryn can be pried from my room temperature corpse. I love him. I love to hate him. and It's been so fun having the freedom to just create and write him however I want to.

There will be so much more adventure and fun times and romance and I can't wait to write it and hopefully you will like it too.

Sunrise and Reality:

I love Voldemort and Harry in a father/ son scenario just as much as i love other thinks 😉 This originally started as just a fun little wandavisino scenario that didn't really feel like it was going anywhere. It was one of those things where it was like... yeah i love it but also i have OTHER things to write and if no one else cares then i really dont wanna put in any effort into it so i kind of stopped the first one.

Well, it turned out that people DID care so i fixed up the first version and now i have a whole as story that has regular updates. I love it so much and I know its not everyone's cup of tea but its been one of the best things i've ever written and i've been just having the best time with it. 😭

This was my submission piece that went with @daddymortfest for 2024

His Brave Boy:

it was my first attempt at a daddmort fic. I wasn't too sure how to do it except i knew it had to have some heartbreak and horcrux vibes. This was my piece for the @daddymortfest 2023

Tides of Temptation :

This is going to be my fest piece for the @fanged-fate-fest for 2024. I can't talk about it too much, but just know that it has mermaids and body horror. Its been a challenge to work on because i've been having to come up with some new rules to magic and an entirely new world

He lives at the End

This was my first attempt at Horror and it was a complete and utter flop 😂 It holds a special place in my heart though because it was my first try and i feel like i've gotten a lot better since i did this.

Tagging @laserswordtraining @temporary-temporal-temper @cloverwoodss