#so now the dialogue is just rattling around in my brain

[berryicet]

@flareboi you gave me a bit of inspo

[just-another-author-i-guess]

Ppppft!!! Elliot casually entering in Judd's room at the worst possible moments, yes please!! I like to think that Judd put all those signs in his door mainly because of his dad 🤣 Elliot and Diane embarrassing Judd is everything i need in this life, hopefully in front of his crush lol 😈

This has been stuck in my head literally the whole week— it’s too good not to write seriously 🤭

Tags: fem! Reader, mentions of sex? Like a lot of mentions, also masturbation, also cockblocking lol, but as I keep saying this is big mouth fanfic what do you expect, Nick and Jessi being jealous boggles my brain, it’s too funny, Elliot Birch is an actual menace, he also has no regards for privacy, it’s his house so he can enter whatever room he wants ig, author had way too much fun writing this

I based this on my first big mouth story, read it HERE

Author’s note: I’m cackling. I loved writing this so much omg— why is it funny tormenting the characters so much 🧍🏻‍♀️anyways, I did my best with Diane and Elliot’s dialogue,, but it’s hard lol. I hope you find it as funny to read as I did to write, and also, ig I kinda lied bc the third and fourth reason technically doesn’t have anything to do with people barging into Judd’s room. But he does get embarrassed, and I needed a good title, sue me. No but seriously, I hope you like this haha

Four (4) reasons why Judd has ‘keep out’ signs on his door

Word count; 4,7K

Reason one (1)

The air in Judd’s room was warm, and humid, and seemed to have stilled once the two of you collapsed on the bed, worn out from an intense round of fucking. 

He barely bothered covering himself, instead he threw you a somewhat sweaty shirt he had been wearing beforehand and pulled the covers up enough to just barely cover his hips. You accepted it with shaky hands and a worn out smile, almost purring as you slipped into the garment and burrowed yourself under his covers as well.

Between your legs, now resided a slowly cooling and increasingly sticky mess, still leaking from you as you turned in the bed. However, your boyfriend never made a move to get up and fetch a towel. He did reach out an inviting arm, though, urging you to scoot closer to him. You did so with a hazy look on your face, nuzzling into his neck and inhaling. 

You listened to his heart beat wildly, his blood bump and felt so, so content. You heard him relax as well, a deep, low, grunt of a sigh as he settled in, clearly as ready for a nap as you were. 

With the humidity and the stillness of everything, it was too easy to close your eyes and bask in the feeling of sleepiness. You were right there, on the sweet, blurry edge between sleep and consciousness when a series of rapid knocks broke through the silence.

Judd groaned, clearly on the cusp of sleep himself— voice even raspier than usual. Besides mumbling a few threatening words under his breath, he didn’t move to open the door or even care to call out to whoever was knocking. It would most likely be Nick, anyway, coming to bother you and he would set the world aflame before he let his stinky little brother see his girlfriend half naked. 

None of you even had time to register it, before the door rattled, opened and a much too cheery Dr. Birch stepped through. 

You froze— wide eyes searching Judd as the crease between his eyebrows became deeper and a murderous expression overtook his sleepy face. 

“Dad.” He rasped. “Get the hell out.”  He was quick to tuck the covers around you, especially your still very wet crotch and ass, completely disregarding the fact that he was butt naked himself. You shrieked as he suddenly rolled you in the sheets— grateful nonetheless as you came to face Elliot Birch, the man completely indifferent to the two of you and your nakedness. 

“Oh, my sweet Judd!” Mr. Birch exclaimed, ignoring how you both looked very much like you wanted him to leave. “How magnificent is it, that you feel comfortable sharing your nude self with me and Y/n?” 

He clasped both hands over his heart, dramatically, and Judd somehow turned even paler than he already was. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like; “I am going to fucking murder you.” And darted for the floor where he had thrown his jeans. 

“Oh noo! No need to feel ashamed, Judd, I’ll take my pants off too!—“

“— no!” A choked out yell escaped you too quickly. Your face felt hot, and you didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that you were beat red by now. You did not need to see Judd’s dads bare ass after already already being embarrassed beyond belief. 

Dr. Birch chuckled and smiled warmly at you. “Setting your boundaries, I see. I’m so proud of you Y/n— my son has such a strong willed girlfriend!” 

Your cheeks burned. “Uh, right. Thank you, Dr. Birch,” 

“Call me Elliot!” 

Judd scoffed behind you, finally getting his pantless situation under control. “Fuck off, dad. Now. I mean it.” Even he was a bit too stunned to come up with a proper threat. 

Elliot sighed, smiling. “Oh, I will, I will! I’ll leave you two lovers alone in just a minute! I do have a little favour to ask you first, though, Juddy,” 

“What.” Judd deadpanned, the tips of his ears colouring slightly at the horrific nickname. 

“I have this tag still on the back of my shirt, you see, I would have taken it off before trying the shirt on, but now I appreciate it so much I didn’t want to take it off myself— Ah, it holds such good memories of this morning!” 

This morning in particular, Nick tried to hit on you and Judd threw a milk carton at him. 

Judd sighed, deeply, and looked a bit like a feral bull. “You are such a fucking pussy, dad.” He growled, but still walked towards his dad with intend to help. 

“Thank you! That is such a beautiful organ,” You kinda wanted to snicker, at the absurdity of the whole situation, but kept your mouth shut. Judd worked quickly, ripping out the tag and throwing it at his dad. 

“Why the hell didn’t you ask Nick?” Judd grit out, coming to sit on the edge of his bed by your feet. He put a protective, soothing hand on your leg under the covers. 

Dr. Birch laughed. “Because you’re so strong! And I love you, son,” 

Judd visibly clenched his jaw, you had no doubt that if this continued a vein would pop on his forehead. “I hate you.” He countered.

“And I validate that feeling! You have such a way with words, you should think about being a writer, don’t you think so too, Y/n?”

“Get the fuck out.” Judd snarled before you had to respond— thankfully. You smiled awkwardly at Mr. Birch, as if trying to confirm Judd’s words but in a much politer way. 

He smiled. “Alright, alright! Have fun, you two, and be safe!” He said over his shoulder, as if it wasn’t obvious that the two of you had just very much had your fun, and sauntered towards the door, closing it gently behind him.

Reason two (2)

Unfortunately for Judd, he didn’t have his own bathroom in the house, having to share two between his family.

Around the shower, was carefully placed a plethora of different pastel coloured shampoo and body washes— all of which belonged to Leah and smelled like a candy crush fever dream. Judd sorted through them roughly, pushing most of them over in his search to find the all-in-one and shampoo for dyed hair he usually used. 

As he showered, working the shampoo into his hair and revelling in the warm, steamy water spray, Maury appeared; ‘You’re taking a shower for Y/n, huh?’ The hormone monster drawled. He was bored; checking his nails as he made himself comfortable on the toilet outside the shower. 

Judd grunted. It was true, you would be over in a bit and he didn’t want to smell like the raccoons.  “Why are you here?” He demanded. 

The monster chuckled and held up his hands in defence. ‘It’s not my fault you can’t stop thinking about Y/n.. Ahh, remember last week when she sucked you off in the shower? Why’s she not doing that right now? Let’s call her,’ Suddenly Maury had Judd’s phone, and was waving it around. 

“Fuck you. Let me shower.” 

‘No, let’s fuck Y/n!’ Maury countered enthusiastically. ‘And besides, y’know that’s not how it works,’ He grinned mirthfully, slithering around the glass wall of the shower to point a long, clawed finger at Judd’s cock— sure enough it was rising to attention. ‘You gotta jerk off. C’mon, give me a good show!’ 

Judd could have punched Maury— and he had actually tried that before, just for the monster to disappear and reappear behind him with a smug look. So instead of drop kicking his hormone monster, he promptly ignored him and turned around to face the water spray. 

‘Nuh-uh,’ Maury grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around— he shook the monster off with a deep growl. ‘Think about Y/n’s nice, biiig tits, ah~’ Maury shuddered, but continued. ‘Remember how they looked all wet, uhhh I bet she’d let you blow your load all over them next time,’ Maury was unrelenting, an increasingly deepening blush spread over Judd’s face and ears and he let out a strangled groan. 

“Shit, fine!” He hissed and the monster whooped in victory. 

Judd was quick to tip his head back and grab his dick with a closed fist. He sighed through gritted teeth as he got to work— swiftly and quite roughly pumping himself as Maury cheered him on. He closed his eyes and let his jaw go slack, imagining it was your hand around him and recalling the alluring noises you made whenever he was pleasuring you. 

His release build steadily, hand movements getting more frantic and his breath sped up. The spray of water only seemed to get hotter, and the steam in the room became more dense. He leaned forward— spreading his hand out on the wall in front of him to get a better angle, and keep his balance. Now his head hung low, and he panted open-mouthed as he tightened the grip around his cock and sped up his movements again. He was so close, just a few more pumps and— 

The bathroom door flew open and Judd all but jumped out of his own skin. He had locked the door when he first entered, right? 

‘Nooo..! Elliot, get the hell out!’ Maury yowled— appearing on the other side of the shower and trying to push out the intruder, who unfortunately was Judd’s dad. Elliot could neither see nor hear or feel the monster, so Maury’s punching and shaking left him completely unfazed as he continued further into the room.

Judd’s eyes shot open, slack mouth turning into a frightening scowl as he heard his dad sing to himself. Elliot sauntered about the bathroom— humming a song about lotion and browsing through the cabinets. 

“Don’t mind me, Juddy!” He yelled over the water, as if it was a most normal occurrence to walk in on your 18-year-old son taking a shower. 

Maury slithered back into the shower. ‘Let’s kill him. Now. And then we can tend to your little.. problem after,’ He suggested, glaring at Elliot’s shadow through the shower window. Luckily, it was steamy enough to only show silhouettes, so Judd could at least maintain a bit of dignity. 

Judd grunted and nodded in agreement, turning off the shower. “Get the fuck out,” He rumbled, low and threatening. 

“I can’t find my lotion anywhere! It makes my skin so soft— just the way your mother likes it,” Elliot tutted, completely ignoring Judd’s orders. 

“I’ll fucking skin you alive. Get out.” Judd repeated, this time raspier, raising his voice. The steam from the warm water was slowly dissolving— leaving the glass in the shower clear enough to reveal most of Elliot to Judd and vice versa. 

Elliot chuckled warmly. “You have such a poetic soul, son. It’s such a shame you don’t write more,” 

A cross between a deep growl and sigh escaped Elliot’s oldest son. “What the hell are you talking about.” Judd said, and though it sounded like a question he didn’t actually want to know the answer. 

Dr. Birch turned to his oldest, now fully visible behind the shower glass and said; “Your creative potential! Ohhh! You should write Y/n a love letter, she would love it—“ 

“— Fuck no.” 

Elliot’s eyebrows creased, and his facial expression turned earnest. “I know you’re very good at pleasing Y/n with your body—“

“—Dad, shut up—” Now Judd was really embarrassed, he had both hands covering his privates, but was still very much butt naked in front of his dad, a reality that didn’t fail to make a blush creep over his ears and cheeks. The fact that he was also still rock hard, didn’t help at all. 

“— But!” Elliot continued, pointedly ignoring Judd. “You should do something romantic for her! Something with your heart! You should always show a woman how much you love her, Judd,” He reminded, a gentle smile on his face as he watched his son grow increasingly embarrassed. 

“Okay. I don’t care. Get the fuck out.” Judd deadpanned. He had let his facade slip for just a brief moment— before covering his appalled expression up with a vicious glare. 

“Oh, but I still need my lotion—“

“— I’ll gut you and fill you with your fucking lotion if you don’t get out.” He snarled, strained and deep and his look made it clear it was definitely not up for debate. 

‘Boo! Get the fuck out, Elliot!’ Maury added in the background, throwing a shampoo bottle at the man. 

All he did was chuckle at the threat— shrugging his shoulders. “Alright, Juddy, I respect your boundaries. It’s important to acknowledge such things,” He smiled and relented his search for lotion. He continued humming obnoxiously, however, as he left and softly closed the door behind him. 

Reason three (3)

You gasped, puffy lips parting to make way for the eager sound. Judd had roughly thrown you on the couch, slotting himself between your legs and ferociously attacked your neck as soon as you had walked in the door.

Finally, finally, the two of you were alone— in fact, you had the whole house to yourself. Leah was out, Mr and Mrs Birch had taken Nick out for dinner which left you and Judd the perfect opportunity to fuck on the living room couch. And you barely got a saying (not that you minded) before Judd was putting that plan into action. 

Scrambling to put your hands under his shirt, you clumsily felt him up— lightly scratching at his abs just how you knew he liked it. He growled, heavy and husky and bit hard on your neck in retaliation. 

A strangled whine escaped you and you pulled at his shirt— you needed it off. You felt him grin against your throat, just the slightest twist of his mouth as he scraped his teeth against you. 

“Use your words, baby,” He breathed, cruelly dragging his teeth so slowly against your sensitive neck and grinding into you— so you could properly feel him. 

It was so unfair, he knew you’d have no chance of responding when he started palming at your tits, squeezing one in each hand. 

You tugged harder, pulling Judd closer to you in the process. “Off.” Was the only thing you were able to whine.

He licked a long stripe up your neck— tasting you to the best of his ability before he obeyed you. He sat on his knees between your legs, and you watched him with a flushed face as he pulled his shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor somewhere. 

Connie, who previously had been banned to the floor where she sat and watched the two of you intensely, stood up— her mouth dropped cartoonishly, hanging on the floor as her tongue lolled out. 

‘Sweet mother of jeebus! Look at those strong, delicious abs..! Lick them— c’mon lick them, hurry! Lick them till he’s all you can taste, sugarplum!’ She cried, and it wasn’t a question, it was a demand. 

You couldn’t help but oblige. You sat up, the way your legs were placed allowing you to straddle him and push him backwards on the couch. To your utter bamboozlement he let you, allowing you control for just a moment as a self-satisfied eyebrow-raise came to his face. 

Half sitting up, he now had the perfect position to ground up into you and you immediately lost what little control you had. Two large hands enclosed around your hips in a lock tight hold—starting a rhythm in which he could press your hips down on his. 

He kissed you then, a tingling feeling erupting in your lower stomach as you tasted the Jack Daniel’s on his tongue. He licked into your mouth with newfound fever, swallowing your desperate yelps and moans— one hand wandering from your hip to your shoulder where he started to push the strap of your tank-top down.

You arched your back, pressing into him, and he took the opportunity to roughly squeeze your ass. In retaliation, you reached a hand down— roughly squeezing his cock through his jeans. 

He groaned, a throaty, baritone sound. “You bitch..!” He cursed and then he was pulling your hair— suddenly pulling you back from his mouth with a harsh tug so he could position you in a way that allowed him to abuse your neck some more. 

He bit you so hard it was sure to leave marks, red and swollen bite marks that would sit on your neck for weeks like an obnoxious neon sign. You sighed and started working his belt—fighting to get it off so you could get your price quicker.

However, just as you were done popping the button on his jeans, the front door clicked and swung open. 

“No, dad! You’re embarrassing me—“

“— You used to love your father’s hugs, Nick, what’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, mom, but I’m a man now. I don’t want hugs.”

“Awww, please, Nicky. Let me give my little man a hug,” 

“No, dad, leave me a— Judd?” Nick walked further into the room, in an attempt to escape being coddled by his dad— but came face to face with you on top of his older brother instead. 

Judd’s grip on your hair immediately loosened, Connie cursed and tried to close the front door before Elliot and Diane could enter— you sat up, mortified and corrected the strap of your top back to your shoulder. 

“Nick.” Judd stated, barely bothering lifting his head to look at his brother. You, however, stared the tween down wide-eyed. “Fuck off, we’re busy.” He grunted. The very same sentence he said whenever Nick would brother the two of you in his room.

You watched as Nick’s fists clenched, his face going through multiple shades of red till it landed on an angry glare directed at his brother. “Judd, you're such a slut!” He yelled, voice crack audible and was that.. tears in his eyes?  

“Are you going to cry, you little prick?” Judd cackled— sitting upright all the way so his chest was pressed to yours. 

“Now, Nicky, what are you slut-shaming your brother for?” Dr. Birch waltzed through the front door along with his wife— as if this moment couldn’t get any worse. You moved to get off Judd, but when he grunted and held your hips down, you noticed he was indeed still incredibly hard and you would need to sit still, so as to not expose his boner to his family. 

You felt hot, too clammy as red colour spread from your chest all the way to your ears— like a kettle heating. 

‘Yeah, fuck this. Sorry, sweetheart, but I cannot deal with this today! You’re on your own!’ Connie patted your head, slowly backing away and into a portal that would take her to god-knows-where and throwing you a ‘peace out’ sign. Wow. Such support. 

“Look at what he’s doing to Y/n!” Nick accused, waving his arms at the two of you. 

You didn’t know it was possible, but Dr. Birch frowned, looking down at his son. “Now, Nicky, it’s never okay to slut-shame someone, especially not when you’re witnessing such a beautiful moment! Judd is just sharing an intimate moment with Y/n, nothing to be ashamed off,” 

Judd stiffened under you, he was tense, you were tense, both of you embarrassed beyond belief. Your ears burned bright red, horrified. 

Your boyfriend let out a warning growl. “Shut the hell up, dad—“ 

“— Oh, Y/n! It’s so good to see you!” Then it was Diane talking, she walked towards the two of you on the couch with a warm smile. You couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes— not when you were literally sitting on Judd’s boner, so instead you buried your head in his shoulder.

“Good to see you, too, Mrs. Birch..” You muttered, feeling Judd’s hands tighten around you. 

Diane tutted. “Oh, Y/n, no need to be embarrassed. I’m glad you both feel comfortable having sex under our roof, and you are more than welcome to,” 

It was an attempt to soothe you, yet it sounded so warped coming from your boyfriend's mom’s mouth. 

Judd heaved a long sigh. “We have.. shit to do. Leave.” He said, sounding equally as mortified as you felt. 

Mrs. Birch chuckled lightly. “We’ll be upstairs, Juddy. You two just enjoy yourself, and Y/n, please stay for dinner!” She hummed— you wanted to cry. 

You kept your head burrowed into Judd, listening as Mr and Mrs. Birch’s footsteps resounded towards the stairs, yet one pair of feet remained. 

“Get the fuck out, shitface.” Judd deadpanned. 

“I’m allowed to be here, it’s my house too!” Nick was defiant, pouting at his brother.

Judd’s jaw clenched— Nick would definitely come to regret this later. “You have a second to leave before I come over there and rip your beady eyes out, you fucking creep.” His voice was low and carnal and it was clear he meant business— that was no empty threat. 

Nick paled slightly, but before he could even begin to find the right response, Diane called from upstairs; “Nicholas Birch! Go to your room and leave your brother alone, now!”

At that, Nick complied immediately, secretly relieved to get a free ticket out of the situation before Judd would beat him to a pulp as he flew up the stairs.

Reason four (4)

You were sprawled out on Judd’s bed, a raccoon curled on your lap and Connie laying on her back by your feet. She was watching Judd intensely as he worked out— occasionally commenting on his grunts or groans as he lifted the heavy weights. 

You didn’t bother entertaining her, gently stroking the raccoon while scrolling on your phone. The animal chatted to you, small hands wavering about as it chittered. You thoroughly enjoyed moments like this, when you and your boyfriend could co-exist quietly and in peace. Judd was lying on the floor somewhere, having moved on from the weights to instead practise his pushups. The two of you would probably go out later, after the rather excruciating last few interactions you had with Judd’s parents, the two of you decided to skip dinner with them for the time being.

Your phone was hooked to Judd’s speaker, as he had graciously allowed you to play music for him while he worked out. The raccoon in your lap seemed to enjoy your taste in music as well- tail swaying softly to the baseline.

Catching your hormone monster from the corner of your eye, you saw how she stiffened and suddenly sat up. Her hairs stood up, ears turning down as she surveyed the room— she turned to say something to you, but right before the sounds escaped her, three shy knocks came to the door. 

Judd, who was now doing crunches, sat up fully to fix you a blank stare. He gestured towards the door with his head and raised eyebrows, you pouted but got up. The raccoon in your lap protested as you softly shooed it off— it scurried off under the bed to hide from whoever came to disturb you. Connie followed closely behind you, slinking after you like a shadow as you approached the door. 

Opening the door, you were already quite ready to fight off Nick or Mr. Birch, but what you didn’t expect, however, was your sister standing there and wringing her hands with a nervous expression.

“Uh, Jessi?” You didn’t even know she was here, actually you hadn’t seen her since yesterday evening when Judd picked you up from your dad’s.

Connie raised a hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Oh sweet child..’  She muttered, studying your sister from over your shoulder.

Jessi took a step back, startled, when instead of her crush she came face to face with you in pyjama shorts and one of Judd’s shirts. You bend over a little, to be more on level with her. “What are you doing here? Do you need a lift home, or something?” 

She gaped at you, clearly losing track of whatever she was going to say. You watched, a bit concerned, as gears turned in her head. Then, you felt something, someone, else at your side. You wrinkled your nose as Judd came up besides you— his sweaty palm enclosing around your waist as he pulled you to him. 

You wanted to comment on it— tell him to shower before he got his sweat all over you, but he beat you to it; “Hey Y/n’s sister Jessi.” He grumbled, granting the tween a downwards glance. 

Jessi looked positively constipated, and also a bit like she was going to puke. You freed yourself from Judd— dropping to your knees and gently holding Jessi’s shoulder. “Jessi-bear, are you sick?” 

Connie followed you closely again, this time appearing behind your sister, clutching her closely and spreading a palm over her forehead to feel her temperature. ‘She’s down with a baaad case of Judd fever!’ The monster exclaimed, slightly shaking Jessi, whose blush had now risen from her neck all the way to her ears— colouring her face completely red. 

You sighed as your sister seemed to boot up again from her temporary lockdown. She quickly stepped back from you, and you realised she was holding something behind her hands. Connie noticed it too; ‘Aw Jessi.. So cute, but sad. Very, very sad. Actually kinda pathetic, you better let her down easy, Y/n, sugar.’ 

“I am not Jessi-bear! And I’m not sick! Just.. Just regular, old, fun, Jessi..” She waved you off, and you stood back up— slightly surprised by her outburst.

You tried, and failed, to hide your grin. Apparently, Judd thought your sister's awkward demeanour was funny as well. “Okay, regular, old, fun Jessi. What do you want?” He said, raising a brow at the flustered tween. 

She swallowed thickly, and you fixed Judd a glance that meant ‘don’t be mean’. He retaliated by shrugging and wrapping his arm around you again. Jessi’s blush somehow grew more vivid— she looked a bit like a cat on edge as she dared a glance up at your boyfriend. 

“I was just, y’know, strolling by–” Connie clasped a large paw over her mouth, shaking her again. ‘–Stop talking, baby! Stop talking!’ She howled, though Jessi didn’t seem to hear or even feel her. 

“This hallway has such interesting architecture, did you notice that?” She finished off, fiddling with whatever she had behind her back and making a point of staring at the ceiling instead of Judd. Your boyfriend in question only grunted, keeping his intense glare on Jessi. 

Sighing, you said; “It doesn’t. It’s a hallway. Look, if you need a lift home I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes, but shouldn’t you hang out with your friends or something instead? I’m sure Nick is looking for you,” You hinted, but all you got from Jessi was a vivid glare. 

“Yeah. Actually, you’re right. I was just dropping by, but I’m actually really, really busy, so..” She shifted on her feet, turning to leave and accidentally exposing you to the thing she had been holding. 

Judd’s eyebrows drew closer together, in a full on scowl. “Is that my shirt?”

You snorted. “Oh my god!” You stared at your sister in bewilderment, trying to decide whether it was funny, gross or awkward beyond belief; You settled on a good mix of both.

Immediately, the garment slipped from Jessi’s hands and she paled. “I-I-I found it like this! I just wanted to return it!” She could have puked, breathing speeding up as she fought off the hyperventilation and stared at the two of you with a horrified look that meant you had definitely caught her red-handed. 

“Are you stealing Judd’s shirts? I knew I had a bunch of them, did you seriously take them?” You asked, now mortified. Judd let out a series of low, cackling laughs as you watched your sister tear up. She opened and closed her mouth, fighting to say something but ultimately gave up— running off down the hall as you watched her retreating form with bewilderment. 

You’ve reached the bottom🧍🏻‍♀️thank you for reading this far, haha, I hope you enjoyed it. The last one was heavily inspired by that scene in the new season were Jessie walk in on Judd and his girlfriend(?), I just saw that and needed to write something similar

I’m now on my winter break, and I’ve got a lots of idea for Judd content for y’all this week so look out for that!

With this story, I literally need to add this meme; reblogged to me by @raccoon66

Thank you so much lol, it’s literally the best thing ever 🙏🙏

Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn

[meanbossart]

I gotta ask this has been rattling in my brain for a while.

How did your DU drow react when Astarion asked him for help with the ritual? What were his thoughts? Or was he simply like stop it, no, we aren't doing that. OH, How did you picture your Astarion and DU Drow react after he "died" and was brought back? I know that we don't really get that much dialogue or reaction from the companions when that happens (Praying they add something later down the line in another patch)

Again thank you for sharing your beautiful art and fanfic with all of us its so refreshing to see!!! :)

OHOHOHO I'm glad you asked. I feel like that first question is very revealing of DU drow's character and It was a fun moment to ponder upon, because I think much of his behavior might lead one to believe he would be willing to go along with whatever Astarion wants, instead of pushing back at all, at least on the surface.

There's two factors at play here - first, DU drow knows of his heritage at that point, and thanks to the blank-slate treatment of the tadpole he's gotten a brand new perspective on it by the time he learns of the truth. Prior to losing his memories, accepting the fate that Bhaal had bestowed onto him felt like a choice and the best thing that ever happened to him in life, a confirmation that he was special and destined for greatness instead of just damned to the lowly existence he had endured so far. After his brain is scrambled however, DU drow got a taste of what true freedom feels like while unburdened by his upbringing; he's strong, he's powerful, he's self-sufficient, he enjoys the fruits of his labor without appreciating what got him here - he does not feel like he needs Bhaal, and the fact he ever did is laughable at best and violating at worse. This leads him to abhor the idea of depending on higher power to succeed instead of just raising oneself up by their own merits, or abiding by any mentality where you take orders from a source.

So when Astarion speaks of ascension, and especially after he learns of the source of that power (Infernal magic) he's disillusioned by it. While his memories are still hazy, the situation still feels awfully familiar to him. He doesn't think Astarion needs that higher power because he doesn't, either, and to take it would surrendering to fear and giving away even more of his autonomy than he already has.

And if that sounds a little self centered and like he's missing some of the point, it's because he is. While DU drow has fallen in love with Astarion by that stage in the story and wants what's best for him (he actually entertains the idea of him ascending up to a point - he wants him to be happy) he still has a difficult time empathizing with others. Ascending feels like a bad choice, but he can only justify that feeling from his own, narrow perspective.

(I mused on about characterization for too long again. So more under the cut - the sky is blue the sun is hot etc.)

Then there's the uglier, far more vulnerable and knee-jerk reaction to it. Now that Bhaal is no longer his purpose in life or the gift he once felt it to be, Astarion has taken it's place. Bhaal needed DU drow, in his eyes, much like Astarion does now. And as much as the vampire might have told him that his feelings on the matter changed (and that he was no longer manipulating DU drow for his own ends alone) he can't fathom a reason to be kept around unless he continues to be needed. He has slotted himself as Astarion's protector and devotee, and a vampire lord does not sound like they need much of either.

As much as he would never admit to it, DU drow does not know a life where he doesn't pledge himself, body and soul, to another purpose. He seems like he's happy to barrel through life directionless, but he needs something that anchors him or he has an inexplicable feeling that something terrible will happen. And honestly, maybe he's right - for a man who loves killing, he has a much easier time applying some strategy to that desire as long as he's doing it to some an specific end. Without Astarion, he probably feels like his choices are to either submit to his hedonism entirely or just lie down and die.

I don't need to spell out that this is pure codependency at it's finest.

So, when Astarion asks for help to complete the ritual he is conflicted. He wants to do whatever Astarion wants, but his brain is setting off alarm bells that, if he acquiesces, this will be the end for them and for him. And whatever comes after is a terrifying void of nothing. While he loves Astarion and ultimately does the right choice in pleading with him to give up on this power, his motivations are far from selfless or pure, as much as DU drow may not yet realize it.

This is why, after everything takes place, and specially once he severs his connection to Bhaal and his mind clears a little further, DU drow would go on to grapple with a lot of guilt for taking this opportunity away from Astarion, as I have touched on in the fic and will continue to do so. He's happy to feel like he has a reason to be kept around, but the inevitable hurdles that Astarion must continue to face as a spawn are obviously painful to witness. This is why he dives full force into trying to "fix" his vampirism instead, following that.

NOW, FOR THE NEXT AND HOPEFULLY FAR BRIEFER ANSWER TO YOUR OTHER QUESTION (spoiler alert, it's not brief at all, god damn it):

Yeah everyone just standing around in that scene feels little weird LOL not that it took away too much from how dope a cutscene it was (I probably watched it with the attentiveness of a sport's fan witnessing a footbal game turning in the last 10 minutes of a match) but If I were to embellish it instead of just going with something like "everyone is shell-shocked and paralyzed", I would say Shadowheart is the first to rush over to see if there's anything at all she can do to help, and probably the first (and only, in that moment) to break down crying. I think she very quickly composes herself after he's brought back, tells him he gave her the scare of a fucking lifetime and that he's the luckiest idiot in all of the realms - but that she's glad he's back. No hugs for him though LOL

Astarion is pretty much the opposite, that he would stand there in shock feels kind of apt to me. Like, holy shit, what just happened? Did one of the only good things in my life really just get taken away in the blink of an eye? Am I just cursed to have everything snatched away from my hand as soon as I'm growing comfortable with it? Yes, of course I am. What else did I expect. When DU drow pops back up he's probably like "Oh yeah I knew it'd be fine" (plus the little Twee comment, that was very funny to me.) and DU drow is similarly going "Oh definitely, it was my plan all along to be killed and then resurrected by an ominous house-keeper skeleton this whole time. Anyway, smooch for a dead man?"

This... Clearly very traumatic little incident is probably addressed by them only later. He gets a kiss and a hug at camp and a very stern "if you do that shit again I'm raising you back up just to kill you myself" from Astarion and Shadowheart's just down to drink in celebration and drown her trauma away for now lmao.

OH YEAH AND GALE WAS ALSO THERE. There was a whole Gale debacle in my playthrough but, the TL;DR, is that especially towards the end of the game he was Not in the best of terms with DU drow. Still, I obviously think he's an empathetic person and had his own "oh shit" moment. I'd say he takes this opportunity to try extending a very sincere hand out to him later that day, both for his courage in defying a god and dumb-luck - which DU drow completely passes on like an asshole and just gives him a cold-shoulder about, leaving feeling even more dejected than he already was and probably further cementing his choice to pursue the crown of Karsus later, despite DU drow's disapproval. Good job buddy!

Thank you so much for the ask and for your lovely compliments!!! Sorry for writing you a dang ESSAY 😬

[sebsbarnes]

love and grief || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: you knew no matter how often you two spat with the other, said you hated each other, hell, even nearly killed the other, you two were connected in some weird unexplainable manner.

warnings: death, violence, injuries, language

word count: 2.4k+

a/n: i needed to create spade, reader's sidekick, to make this work...he has no dialogue but their relationship is equivalent to tangerine and lemon. NOT RLLY EDITED

tangerine masterlist

his large hands wrapped themselves around your neck slamming you onto the counter. immediately you started losing air, desperately scratching at his fingers attempting to pry them open. small black dots began to cloud your vision as you squirmed underneath him, legs flailing.

"i can't lie love, you look pretty hot with my hands around your neck. too bad we aren't in a bed," he smirked through gritted teeth, the vein pulsating in his neck.

"well...a floor...might work...just...as good," you managed to squeak out, hands still pressed deeply on your neck. attempting to pry his fingers off did no good and with little time left before you passed out you grabbed his elbows, harshly pushing them up causing them to hyperextend. tangerine's grip immediately released as he shouted in agony. you quickly sat up on the counter, reaching over to him and grabbing his neck, slamming him to the ground. tangerine was now in your position just moments ago as you straddled the man while squeezing his neck.

"don't worry babe, i'll try not to give you rug burn," you winked pushing further onto his neck.

"mm charming," he grunted, face turning a deep shade of red.

he tried removing your hands by pulling at your forearms but you weren't budging. you had your hands locked and your feet locked under his thighs. had this been any other circumstance...like on his bedroom floor...you may have enjoyed this view of him but alas this was a circumstance far from that. tangerine was so close to passing out and just in an instance the whole dynamic changed. it was too late to register the sound of the door opening behind you. not a moment later you shrieked in pain pulling back from tangerine's neck to hold your upper arm that was now searing in pain. you looked at your trembling hand that was now coated in blood. taking this opportunity tangerine threw, literally threw, your body to the side smashing into the cabinets. you choked and your brain was frantically worrying about the loss of air and the torn up skin on your arm to even realize tangerine was now brutally fighting ladybug.

the saying goes the enemy of my enemy is my friend, but with ladybug that didn't apply. you loathed him. and although you hated tangerine you hated ladybug more and given the opportunity to fight him with someone as strong as tangerine...fuck yeah you'd take that chance.

ladybug had just slammed tangerine's head causing disorientation and while ladybug's back was to you you stalked over, gripping his scalp and dragging his body to the ground. you assumed the position from earlier, now choking out ladybug.

"y'know it's quite hot seein' ya dominate anotha' man," jested tangerine. surprised by his remark you stared at him with wide eyes but this left you vulnerable and ladybug now took advantage of your distracted state and lifted his leg kneeing you in the spine. your jaw was then met with his fist which made your teeth rattle. you were fuming.

the two of you stood up and you grabbed the center of ladybug's t-shirt and shoved him backwards into tangerine who held his arms back. some assassins had their go-to methods of fighting or torture. you? well you always had a pair of pliers handy. an odd thing perhaps but they were so....versatile. they always illicit some sort of fear and that's exactly what it was doing as you had one hand bringing the pliers to ladybug's teeth and the other gripping his jaw open. he was pleading and begging as you got closer.

"well shit love i didn't know how hardcore you were," tangerine said pulling his face as far as possible from the tool.

"keep coming onto me and i'll rip that tongue out of your pretty mouth," you hissed.

tangerine couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his face, "but then how would i be able to taste you darlin'?"

before you could pluck ladybug's teeth out and before you could rip tangerine's tongue out there was a loud commotion from a few cars up. tangerine and you both dropped ladybug (disappointedly since you were looking forward to beating the shithead) and bounded for the source. in your soul you knew something was wrong. immediately your breath quickened and legs fastened. tangerine silently observed you as he walked in tangent. he sensed the anxiety radiating off your body and he could only assume you thought something was wrong with spade. he couldn’t fathom anything besides an injury to spade, the two of you were way too skilled at your job to sustain serious injuries let alone something worse. but he was proven wrong.

the door slid open and tangerine watched as your body skidded. he grabbed underneath your armpits to steady you. it was blood, everywhere. you were rigid. it was your worse nightmare. it was spade dead.

he was propped against the wall in between the seats of the train, a giant gash across his neck. you kneeled beside his body grabbing at the collar of his shirt, "what the fuck spade," you whimpered, "what the fuck happened."

your hands and lips were trembling but you couldn't react more. no, not with tangerine around and not with the other killers on the train. you couldn't show any weakness. to you there was no such thing...at least that's what you kept trying to convince yourself.

"y/n...," tangerine spoke softly he wasn't really sure what to say. what do you even say to someone in a situation like this? the relationship you had with spade is like the relationship he had with lemon. the thought of being in your position made him nauseous, but even knowing you are in this position made him nauseous. the whole field of assassins... or whatever you want to call it...knew the two of you were enemies, pure hatred. but you both knew that the little quips and occasional touches were far from hatred.

"we should keep moving," you sounded robotic.

immediately you stood hiding your face and started walking away, tangerine trailing behind. he hesitantly brought a hand up to you shoulder to comfort you but his fingers merely ghosted your skin as he stopped himself. you kneeled next to spade not even a minute. there was no time to think, no time to mourn, no time to say goodbye. you were trying so hard to act normal but you were far from it. teeth were grinding together, nails digging into your palms, flared nostrils, eyes burning holes into anything you glanced at. he was gone just like that. you kept trying to swallow back the tears. 'not now' is all you could think. but the world felt like it was collapsing. it felt as though the you and the sky were colliding. the stars coming to engulf you in their flames and bury you deep within the earth's surface. rocks and sand crushed your body further and further into the center of the earth until it was complete darkness and the only sign of life was the sound of your heart slowly beating.

unbeknownst to you, while in your grief stricken daydream, tangerine was no longer following behind you. paying his absence no mind you continued to follow the small droplets of blood on the floor. you had convinced yourself it was someone else's blood and not spade's.

the door whizzed open and there stood a man, not just any man, the white death. he was holding a long blade which you desperately tried to ignore the blood on it. his smug demeanor made you want to carve his lips off his face. but you stayed still, waiting for him to say something.

"i figured the briefcase was gone," he boomed fiddling with the blade.

"yeah well fuck the briefcase i couldn't even begin to tell ya where the fuck it was last."

"it's a shame i ran into your brother first. he was just...collateral damage. i wished to find you first but," he tsked, "that didn't happen now did it? seems like you can only blame yourself for his death. it's almost as if you were the one holding the blade, right? if you managed to keep the briefcase safe and secure and arrive in kyoto he would be here with us now, hm?" it was the first time in your life you felt defeated. you had no energy to muster up to fight nor did you want to but that didn't matter as he charged towards you, blade swinging out.

you ducked underneath the blade, grabbing his arm and slinging him against the seats. the knife you had on you was much smaller and it took getting a lot closer to try and attack. when the white death stumbled onto the seat he was leaned over and you took the knife dragging it diagonally across the length of his back. in response he swung his arm at you, the butt of the long knife hit you in the mouth that was now pouring blood. the two of you continued fighting back and forth nonstop for awhile, both blades dancing around each other occasionally marking each other with a new wound. for an old man he sure had a lot of stamina and it was starting to become hard to ignore the bullet wound ladybug had caused to your arm. the white dead punched you in the ear which made a loud ringing noise that was painful to bear, he then took his boot and kicked you in the center of your stomach and you flew to the floor. weakly you managed to crawl to your knees.

"just do it already, just kill me," you laughed in defeat throwing your weapons to the side. you looked crazed, the blood from your mouth covered your teeth and left a stain running down your chin. you had a long gash to your jaw that trailed up towards your temple. you looked far from okay.

"what are you waiting for?' you taunted him, "there's nothing else left for me here so do it you dick. i'm begging. i'm the one that should be dead."

before the white death had the opportunity, the glass from the door behind you shattered and he inhaled sharply before the knife fell to the floor and he grabbed his neck that was now bleeding profusely. you were like a deer in headlights, frozen in place watching as the man before you collapsed to the ground no longer posing a threat. you fell forward onto your hands heaving out a cry.

"please just kill me," you whispered over and over again waiting for the person behind you to end it all. instead you felt your body being rotated around and you came face to face with tangerine. his blue eyes frantically scanning over your face.

on the way towards the commotion lemon called tangerine letting him know he had found ladybug and a young girl and 'dealt with the matter' which is what caused tangerine to sidetrack himself away from you. when he managed to catch up is when he saw the white death towering over your hunched body and before he could attempt to harm you even more tangerine took out his gun and aimed it at the man.

tangerine had heard your pleads to the white death. he saw your shaking frame, the wickedness yet defeat in your tone. you were giving up and in the years of knowing you, tangerine had never witnessed such a sight. he had never seen you raise the white flag in a fight nor even entertain the idea that someone could ever defeat and kill you. this wasn't the fighter he knew, but he knew that seeing your brother dead was the cause of this and he didn't blame you. his chest felt constricted as he rushed to your side in any attempt to mend you.

"hey. hey... hey! focus on me," tangerine said gripping your face slightly shaking your head, "i'm here. you aren't dying today."

"he's gone," you broke, looking into tangerine's eyes which were laced with emotion, "like... really gone."

"i know, love. i'm so fuckin' sorry, i am," tangerine whispered mournfully, cradling your severely injured body.

"please," your voice barely a whisper pleaded as you grabbed the knife you had thrown to the side and gestured it towards tangerine.

tangerine swallowed so hard it hurt, "absolutely not," he said gripping the knife and tossing it back to the side. you let your eyes close, lips trembling as tangerine picked up your frame.

"we're getting off this train, okay?" tangerine declared into your hair.

with the white death gone, his men no longer breathing, the briefcase long gone, and a very battered tangerine and lemon, the three of you essentially crawled out of the bullet train when it made it's final stop in kyoto. you limped onto the platform with a bleeding arm and face and pivoted away from tangerine and lemon who were a few steps ahead of you.

"where are you goin'?" tangerine asked baffled.

"wherever i can," you muttered lazily gesturing towards the stairs.

tangerine ran his tongue across his teeth, rolling up one of his white sleeves, "very funny love."

tangerine sauntered over to you picking you up forcing you to wrap your legs around his torso. you didn't want the help. you didn't want to feel hopeless. you didn't need the twins to sulk with you and take care of you. but you couldn't help but ease into tangerine's arms. you didn't want to admit it but they were comfortable... and familiar. you've been in this position before, legs tangled around his body, his strong arms gripping your frame. less clothes were involved those times and lips were feverishly kissing the other. but you liked this as much as it pained you to admit, it was nice being vulnerable in his arms. you knew no matter how often you two spat with the other, said you hated each other, hell, even nearly killed the other, you two were connected in some weird unexplainable manner.

so, you let him. you let tangerine carry you through the station, into an awaiting car. he'd lean your head onto his shoulder and play absentmindedly with your fingers. he hated hospitals but he wanted to get you the best medical attention. he sat by your side as you were cleaned and stitched up and then he would take you back to his house. few words spoken. he would make you tea and bring you clothes, the bed sheets and covers pulled back as you lay down and tucked you in. he'd let you cry into his arms and grieve your brother and he would be there each day moving forward.

[honeeslust]

Choso Kamo | Screen Time

🖤 After months of this just being an idea and then a few more that I spent plotting how to make all the concepts fit together and lastly me trying my best to make it a little dark but still sweet at the same time because its Choso and he's so babygirl😌 😩. Bare with me. I got a bit long winded at the end and was running out of dialogue on the readers end 😬.

Anyway...

Im glad I ain't give up on this one.

Here goes....

🖤 WC 3k+

🖤 songs on repeat when writing…

Screen time Max Millz.

Body say Demi Lovato. (Don't judge me)

The offering. Sleep Token.

High Water Sleep Token(particularly because the drums around 3:25. it builds.. ya know 😮‍💨👌🏾 ... )

Pov: A pretty brown skin girl is sitting in her bed. Freshly showered and effectively dosed with a tall glass of wine.  Her favorite pillow is tucked between her legs while she plays a game on her switch. Her phones somewhere over on the nightstand charging. So her boyfriend isn't privy to the  glow currently spreading across her cheeks when he begs her...

Show me...

What?

Of coarse you heard him. But something about that deep monotonous tone bellowing into your ears has your brain tripping over itself.

I wanna see em'. Face time me.

Tsk!!Choso, nooo. Im on the last level... and besides. I'm already in my bonnet.

Bae you for real? C'mon. Like I care... now lemmie see you. His voice gets all deep and smokey sounding. Forcing you to pause your game as those damn butterflies started up their familiar dance in the depths of your stomach.

Fine.  You say reaching for your phone. You tap the icon above his picture, and moments later, there he is. Eyes smoldering through the messy tendrils of hair fringing his face.

Alright pretty girl. Lemmie see em'

Meanwhile...

Fuuuck! I need this girl.

That's all that Choso can think right now as he stares at his phone admiring the view. A slight chuckle escapes his lips even though he didn't think it looked funny. He only thought it  was cute because your normally fluffy hair was now confined to the polka dotted satin bag, giving the top of your head a funny shape.

Baby, c'mon...Put the bonnet thingy back on. You look cute in it. I like it... you look like one of the toad things from Mario.

Boy stop. You get on my nerves Choso.

I know...He says boldly as if he were proud of himself. Put it back on... pleeease!

Ugh, fine!! You tugged your bonnet on to your head feigning annoyance. To get back at him, you set your phone down leaving it to stare up at the ceiling.

Nah! Get off that game. Cmon and show me. He blares when he hears that you've switched your game back on.

He begs unnshamedly until you finally set up your phone and bring your body into view. Showing off the tight top and booty shorts that hugged the curves of your body. Your nipples poke through the thin ribbed fabric, making his mouth water after thr sight. The little buds would gently bounce underneath, moving with the shy laughter rattling in your chest as he gasses you up.

You need that one in every color.

Stop teasing Cho.

I'm not... Make sure you pack those when you come and visit me. I wanna see you in it up close....

Mmhmm. Sure Choso. But only if you make it worth my while. It's your turn. Show me somethin cutie.

Nah. These sweats are nothing special. You've seen me in them before.

I don't care...Thats not what I'll be looking at no way. Cmon Big head. Don't get all shy on me now.

He pretends to think about it before shaking his head. Nope.

Nuh-uh! Thats not fair!

Bae, what's not fair is you being so damned far away. I feel like I'm going fuckin mental over here. He sighs, visibly exasperated, he pushes his hair away from his face just for it to fall over his eyes again.

Exactly!! You exclaim looking into the camera. C'mon Cho.... Show me what I'm missing.

He relents, shaking his head over the full lipped pout you were giving him. He raises his phone and pans the camera down to show off all the prominent muscles as they flexed along his torso. He knew what you liked to see.

Ooh. You beamed, your face lighting up at the camera as you settled into a cozy spot in bed, ready to spend this night just like every other... laid up talking til the sun comes up.

…

As a vampire who never slept. He'd spend the daylight hours restricted to the confines of his home. And as a drummer. His nights were often spent playing bars and headlining secret shows, leaving those sleepless days wide open to sit around pining for the pretty girl who stole his heart.

The opposing schedules meant most nights were the same. Him just listening on the other end of the call,  many times staying long after you'd fallen asleep.  Rather than saying goodbye, you'd just nod off after a long comfortable silence.

Choso never complains about it though. Something about you sleeping was so gratifying. If he closed his eyes, your soft sighs would hum to him. Sobering yet siren-like. Momentarily easing the agony of the unbearable distance.

…

Tonight was no different. Eventually your sentences are shortened to half yawns and low sounding moans, your eyes lowerin, glittering with tired tears. He smiles to himself, knowing it wouldn't be long now before you drifted off.

He relaxes against the pillows. His half naked body buzzing as it always does at this hour. It's those steady breaths from you coming through his headphones and him visualizing the skimpy pink pajamas you wore stained with your blood when suddenly a soft thumping in his ears interrupts his daydream.

He glances at the screen and it's only a moment or two before he realizes what's happened.  You had to have been exhausted, given that the phone somehow ended up underneath you and you hadn't budged to correct it.

At first he calls your name a few times hoping to laugh about it with you, but then... he really listens.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

He perceives each and every pulsation with eager ears, obsessively committing the rhythm to memory. Without thinking, his hand begins to wander along his body, a whisper of your name threatening to escape the place it hung on the tip of his tongue. He slips his hand underneath the waist band, intending to do something about the intense straining happening there. A half moan erupts from his lips when he flinches from his own touch, his dick so swollen and tender that it aches.

He makes out every little impulse coming through his headphones. Now spreading the sappy pre-cum around himself and dragging it down along the shaft. Your heart thumps unsteadily, making his erection lurch responsively within his grip. His hips buck lightly off the mattress. Soft whimpers beginning escape through his clenched teeth while he fucks himself against his grip.

He swallows his whines, hoping his pathetic sounds won't wake you. But he's unable to stop. He draws his lip under his teeth, stifling his slutty cries as he edges himself to you. Pacing in time with the barely audible surging of blood from within your chest. He keeps up until his toes are curling and thick ropes of cum are stroked out over his stomach.

…

From then on, he went on thinking he was losing his mind. Day by day, he grew a little more infatuated with the girl that was stuck in his screen. He drove himself crazy obsessing over what it would feel like to lay his head against your chest and feel the motion of it bumping against his ear. He was so desperate to hear it again that he found himself behind his drum set, replicating the cadence that was set within your chest.

The night comes when he finally gets the chance to see you in person. And from the moment he spotted you in the crowd, he couldn't take his eyes off you. You sang and danced in the front row, like you were a mirage made manifest from his crazy obsessive fixation.

For so long you were only a bundle of pixels trapped in his phone that you started to feel like a dream...Your lips. Always un-kissable. Your body so agonizingly unreachable and the hold you had over him completely unshakable.

The set ends and he rushes off stage to find you. He downs a handful of drinks, listening to you struggle to talk over the music. He's barely feeling any of the alcohols affects but since you've indulged in a few yourself, you've come out your shell a little. He can tell how the fruity drinks are affecting your inhibitions as you stand and face him, a look of determination on your face.

Dance with me.

He lets you drag him onto the dance floor. He touches with slow hands, pulling until you were nestled perfectly against him. Once you were writhing in his grasp, letting you go was not an option. He welcomes the weight of your body against him, pulling your hips closer until your ass was crushed against his lap. The song is a fast one,  but steady tantric movements of your hips stir in tandem with the inner beat.

Holding you this way allows him to take his first real breath of you and suddenly the rest of the world falls away. He draws you closer, his arm resting heavy and possessively over your chest. Your intoxicating scent permeating his senses and altering his state of mind. His fingertips embark on a journey along the length of your body... Pursuing the hills and valleys of your curves till they met bare skin.

Your bodys response was immediate and electric.  Causing your odd little heart to misbehave, tempting him to taste you right where you stood.. Your body moves like art against him, afflicting his ability to remain in control.

He dips his head into the curve of your neck and presses his lips to your exposed skin, eliciting a sharp quiver to trail the length of your spine. Sly fingers gently began to toy with your nipples through your dress as he snuck a tiny nip at the crest of your shoulder, resulting in a feint lapse in the rhythm he had become completely spellbounded by.

You turn to face him, emboldened in your elated state. You step up on your toes to whisper in his ear that you were ready to go. He was almost too hopped up on the high you gave him to let you go, but he takes your hand in his and leads you away.

…

The car ride did you no favors and once you got back to his place, you were embarrassed to admit the alcohol had caught up to you. But he offers aspirin and water and invites you to his studio to put your feet up for a bit.

He helps you relieve yourself of your shoes, adorning you with sudden lengthy stares as he commits every aspect of you to memory.

Now that you were off your feet and you've hydrated. He could tell the alcohol was slowly wearing off. Your eyes shut as though you were lost in the music... Lying with your legs resting across his lap while you listened to some of his songs.

His hands begin caressing the soles of your feet. rubbing in tight circles, unwinding you knot by knot. He gives the right spot a firm squeeze, earning a moan that broke into a squealas his fingers trail a line along the inside of your foot. You giggle, nudging his crotch with your toes. Cho... that tickles.

What? ...This?? He mocks, letting his fingers continue their steady path up the inside of your calf. It's there that he stops to thrum out a little beat.

You laughed weakly wrestling your leg away from him. You and that drumming thing you do... it's cute.

He hadn't really realized he was doing it... but his favorite part of percussion was blaring through the speakers and bouncing perfectly off the soundproof walls. That which...unbeknownst to you was basically a musical rendition of your ekg.

How would you respond if you knew how obsessed he'd become with getting to this very moment?

You sit up, eyes still low from the lingering buzz. Giving him a look like something was on your mind.

I like this one...

He looks to you, his pale features blooming with color when he speaks. What would you say if...I told you this was you?

What do you mean?

You'll think I'm crazy if I try and explain it. Choso stares down at his hands now atop your thighs. It's ... Hard to put it into words...

Your expression brightens when you speak, helping to ease his nerves. Aww. Cho look at you blushing. You gotta tell me now. Cmon...pleease.

He's breaking apart at the seams, falling for everything about you. Your pulse stammers away in your excited state. And he's fixated, there's and aching his jaw, a sharpness ready to break through, when he bites his tongue, managing his control as best he can, all while continually rapping lightly over the little scar on your thigh.

It's you...

What?? You asked those endearing wide eyes affecting him in more ways than you knew.

This... he says gesturing to the sounds surrounding you. I memorized it. He utters astutely aware of the way your skin was smoldering beneath his finger tips.

Your eyes widen toward him and a certain melanated crimson warms your features under his gaze. Baby...you can hear that?

It's my favorite headache

You come closer but your heart stutters. Your favorite huh?

Mmhmm. My favorite. He repeats lowly and honeyed.

Let me see... You say extending your hand to him. You take his hand and place upon your chest... Now...you can feel it too.

His ghostly complexion reddens with desire. Your proximity is so mouthwatering that it alters him from each moment to the next. Your pulse yammers away under his palm causing the cascade of events currently taking place within him.

Abysmally deep wine colored eyes are suddenly overcast in a blood soaked tinge. A hungered gaze rests upon you… Riiight on the little spot just above your collar bone that was jumping frantically as your pulse quickened.

He wants you, more than he's ever wanted anything in his lengthy existence.

Its you. Its the blood. It's the touch. Its the way your lips are mere inches from his, impairing his ability to keep a humanly composure.

Just a taste y/n...please? he begs in a voice just barely rasping above a whisper.

His hand pushes up to your throat, wresting you closer to him so he can press his lips to your skin. You smell so good... I could just bite you right now. Bae...You just don't know...

The answer to his plea comes with your lips crashing into his.  He can hear the air escaping your lungs and feel the heavy thudding of your carotid jumping underneath his palm.

Slow movements of your tongue lap against his, and your head tilts to deepen the kiss. He feels your hand brushing over the stiff region under his jeans, and gasps into your mouth.

God your mouth... nectarous and your tongue artful. Drawing slick little circles around his own...Rousing a heady crescendo that builds in almost perfect timing with the music still playing in the background.

You clamor your way into his lap, feeding his appetite to feel you everywhere all at once. You shove him against the back of the couch as you settle neatly into his lap.

He tears your body free of your clothes, and buries his face in your chest. He drowns himself in your body heat, drawing a nipple between his teeth to tease and prod while pinching the other between his fingers.

Ahh. you cried curling your fingers into his hair giving his mouth free rein across your chest. His hips buck between your legs to let you grind into the opposing friction. Your rapid breaths aren't enough to drown out the soft wet gush coming from the place between your thighs. Your body responds so pleasingly to his touch and its causing the burning within him to deepen. He breathes you in deeper, his hands dipping between your legs to press into the wet imprint there. The slick feeling on his fingers has him unable to hold back now that he finally has you for himself.

The next moment he's ripping down his zipper and freeing himself with one hand and using it to drag his thickness through your leaky arousal. He coats your folds with the heady slick before pressing himself inside. Your walls cinch up, ensnaring him one mere inch at a time, until your nails are digging craters into his skin and you’re stretched tight around him.

Cho... That's so fucking deeeep! You wail half flinching.

Mmhmm.... I waited so long for you bae. He mutters into your skin finding it impossible to be gentle. His nose trails down the side of your neck, roughly bunting his cock into you. I need to taste you bae... Its all I think about. Please... Say yes.

Weakly, you finally nod, churning your hips against him when his fingers thread themselves into your hair. He yanks, roughly revealing the awaiting spot on your neck currently pulsing out of control. The sharp edged incisors erupt from their confines, ready to taste. Shh... I promise...It only hurts at first. He breathes only granting you a second to prepare for the sting that follows.

He sinks his teeth in deep, indulging without restraint. His bite is burning now as more of your essence slicks down his throat, inherently feeding the latent beast within him.

His movements grow harsh and erratic. Soft grunts rattle against your throat as the oncoming climax has your core bearing down around him and the elixir sweetens on his tongue. Your breaths are coming shallow and your strangled moans are dying as the rythym in your chest slows.

Choso acts swiftly. Releasing his teeth from you to bite into his wrist. He brings the hot liquid spilling from his veins onto your lips.

Drink, you'll be okay baby.

You obey, merely sipping at first...,Still lazily grinding yourself into his lap. The blood runs slower from your wound as it heals over and your body lingers on edge. He takes over, guiding your hips back and forth, holding so tight his fingers bruised your skin. He can feel the spongey center of your womb, tensing as he continued kissing that spot as repeatedly and as steadily as you needed it.

Cho... I.... Its too... You ramble on clutching him tighter as your climax left the words halted in your chest.

Fuuuck... don't wanna break you bae... but I need more. He moans out before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You scream his name in surprise and tremble in pain. Crying tears from your eyes and pussy.

He can't let himself hurt you, but you're too fucking good to let go of. You cling to him, gasping loud and ragged versions of his name, grinding down against his cock until your insides squinched and trembled.  The soppy elixir of the combined wetness  makes a mess of his lap.

This time he stops short of you passing out and finds what humanity he can tether himself to and regains control of his senses. He nips his finger to expel more of his blood. You suck it between your lips allowing the droplets to coat your tongue.

He lays your body against his couch. Eagerly searching for a taste of you before the spasms between your legs had even stopped.He kisses along your inner thigh, his fingers withdrawing from your lips to toy with your nipples. He pinches harshly, peppering your clit with concise movements of his tongue until the swollen bit vibrated.

He was leaking his own release as he tasted yours dripping down on his tongue. He moans into your cunt, teasing that little knot until it hardens under his tongue and another mind splitting release had you pulling on his pigtails.

He arises from between your legs, panting as he licked up the messy trail of blood that had spilled down your body. The tickle of his tongue slowly brings you back to life.

You'll let me have more... wont you baby. ???

You pant to him as he claims his place between your legs, and slides himself back with a sharp grunt when the new angle had you strangling his cock in a completely different way.

You're ok right? he mouths against your lips before kissing you. Blood and saliva mix between his lips and yours. He slides away and pushes back again,  fucking you stupid, cutting out a perfect metronome with his hips meeting yours to the soundtrack of you own making. A soft smack sounds as his mouth separates from yours, leaving them bruised.

Yesss, God you feel so good. Bae. Mmm please come for me, he moans out feeling his body shake as he was ready to let go with you. He finally loses his rhythm. His thrusts become shallower, dragging our your climax until your nails cut into his back. Fuuuck Cho—.

Bae.. its so good I cant stop. You can keep taking me right??

Something about the half dazed look in your eye makes it hard not to keep after you. He could feel it again...

Even as your body tries to give out. He can't stop himself. Not until he could fill you up, again and again until smell his scent lingered on you. If he could procreate, you would've been pregnant for sure.

He lost count of how many times he fucked you. Right now all that mattered was this.

Thump-thump Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Choso... you ask lazily running your fingers through his hair while his head rests against your chest. You could've told me ya know. I don't care that you're a vampire.

Endings kill me.😩

[tyramir]

A Spoiler-Filled Rant about Veilguard

This isn't spoiler-intensive, per se, but there is one thought that has been rattling through my brain through the entirety of playing Veilguard. And it has to do with how villains are presented in Dragon Age: Origins and Dragon Age II, versus how they are presented in Inquisition and Veilguard.

(Minor) Spoilers to follow under the cut.

Dragon Age: Origins presents the Darkspawn horde as a traditional fantasy villain trope. It's easy to understand, easy to get the depth of the problem, but it's difficult to counter. Because the entirety of Dragon Age: Origins isn't about fighting the Darkspawn. It's about fighting the problems that get in the way of you fighting the Darkspawn.

You need to gather allies, and it's in the gathering of allies that you encounter your trials and Hero's Journey. And they are all poetic, in a way.

In Redcliffe, to recruit the local Arl, you find him poisoned, further complicated by his son being possessed by a demon. Your attempt to recruit a political ally with ties to the Chantry is confounded both by politics and blood magic.

For the Elves, self-styled guardians of nature, you find them at war with nature itself.

For the Dwarves, stalwart fighters bound by tradition, you are forced to decide for them to either break with tradition, or become enslaved by it.

There's a theme to each ally, and a cleverness to your struggles. And while the Darkspawn are your primary enemy, the end goal of the campaign, the ultimate antagonist of the story is Loghain, a beautifully written enemy (I refuse to call him a 'villain') because he is very complicated in his motivations and goals. He has reasons -- good reasons, albeit short-sighted and misguided -- for doing what he does. He is a patriot. And it is that patriotism that may ultimately doom his nation.

In Dragon Age 2, Meredith and Orsino are presented as the villains of the story. They have complicated motivations and reasons for doing what they do. Meredith wants to protect regular people from Mages and blood magic. Orsino wants to protect Mages from overzealous Templars.

But the antagonist of the story is ultimately Anders, your own party member, who knocks over the board and makes an overcomplicated mess into a veritable clusterfuck. He damns himself and all other Mages by purposely making himself the villain of the story to begin a war. He seeks to make himself and all other Mages in Kirkwall martyrs so that others around the world will unite under one banner, declaring, "No more."

Whether or not what Anders does is Good or Evil is for every individual player to decide. Even if you side with him and try to defend the Mages from the wrath of the Templars, you can still come to the conclusion that his actions were Evil. There's nuance. It's great. Dragon Age 2 has a lot of flaws and some disjointed storytelling because of its format, but where it succeeds is in the questions the antagonist forces you to ask yourself.

And now we get to Inquisition and Veilguard.

They both have Solas. And they use Solas as a crutch. Inquisition does it in a clever way. You aren't aware that Solas is the Great Orchestrator. You think the villain is Corypheus, a D-tier villain with boring motivations and cliched dialogue.

Inquisition would have failed as a narrative if not for Solas. Corypheus was a good villain for a Dragon Age 2 optional DLC. He was a shit antagonist for a full game. He was bland, his goals were bland, his methods of achieving them were bland, and his allies were bland. Everything he did was Generic Fantasy white bread bullshit.

And that's okay. Because he wasn't the Actual Antagonist. Solas was. And I've seen so many interpretations and theories and reads over the years on what really defines Solas, that I can't help to feel that most of them are at least a little bit true.

Is he an Elf-supremacist? Maybe. Does he look down on Humans and Qunari? Debatable. Is he 'just trying to fix things he broke'? Probably. Is he living in the past, unable to move on? You bet.

And then we hit Veilguard.

And we know the main villain of this game is Solas. It was originally titled 'Dreadwolf', after all. But Solas is stuck in a prison of his own making for the majority of the game. So, instead, we get Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain.

And honestly, these two... Elgar'nan is Corypheus 2.0. Ghilan'nain is What if Corypheus Was Also Hojo from FF7.

We just had this formula last game. It *barely* worked. And it only worked in the end because of a surprise reveal. Solas was a complicated antagonist, to be sure, but it worked ultimately because we didn't know he was the antagonist.

So, now we're doing the exact same formula as Inqusition. Present a Very Boring Villain as the surface antagonist, but because the stakes need to be higher, we are given two Very Boring Villains as surface antagonists. And to really hammer in that the stakes are higher, hey, remember how Dragon Age: Origins was about fighting an Archdemon in command of a Blight? Well, now we have two Archdemons. At the same time.

And that's what Veilguard is ultimately trying to do. It's giving you everything you've seen before, but upping the stakes and fewer moral complications and poetic twists. There's no dramatic irony to be had here.

Elgar'nan's entire character arc can be summed up with one phrase:

"WHat DO yOU meAn yOU do NoT All WAnT To bE mY slAVEs?"

Ghilan'nain's:

"WHat Do yOU meAn yOU do NoT All WAnT To bE eXPerIMeNTs?"

We are given two entitled assholes as villains, whining they do not instantly get total and complete dominion over the entire world and all of reality, and are expected to take them seriously. There is no pathos, no sympathetic motivations, no nuance, nothing.

The only depth to any villainous character we get is in Solas. And all that work had already been done in Inquisition. Veilguard coasts on that. Some part of me hoped that maybe Elgar'nan wasn't 100% evil. That maybe some of what he was saying and what he was doing was right. That maybe the war with the Forgotten Ones led him down a dark path of hubris and tragedy. That Elgar'nan was trying to save the world from horrors beyond our comprehension. That Ghilan'nain was preparing us for a war we could not win. The Forgotten Ones, or the Forbidden Ones, or some other grand threat, could have been presented as a Reaper-equivalent Mass Effect style antagonist that they were preparing us against. We could have had that story.

We didn't get it.

We got two selfish nepo-babies instead. And then that final conclusion to the Solas 'problem.'

I've said before. I like Veilguard. I am not here to condemn the game. I don't want to sound like I hate what we got. But damn, we could have had so much more.

[isjasz]

oh crap- I know I already did one of these not even two seconds ago but I forgot to ask if you had any fic recommendations? I need some good ones because I’ve read the ones you recommended with your scrumptious art and they were so freaking amazing.

ok thanks and sorry again

FIC RECS ok hm to start with you should def read our ISAL fics from AU fest if you are interested in that AU!! It was super fun to see them written out hehehehehe :D

And then uh there's really only 2 fics I'm keeping up with rn and they're both scarian AUs LMAOAKFK (but I have. So much on my to read list too I just never get around to read them </3)

The Horse Thief is like a 1950s criminals AU. Scar is an assassin, and Grian is a thief. They are so doomed they make me insane and the characterization is SOOOOO COOL. THE. THE FUCKING PLOT. AND THE DIALOGUES ARE SO LIKE THEY BOIL MY BRAIN /VPOS I DEF RECOMMEND!!! My friend sent this fic once in a channel and I just. Got fucking absorbed and binged it without saying anything it's so good

There Are Monsters Nearby is a zombie apocalypse au!! First of all be extra sure to read the content warnings and tags it's not for everyone. But. The premise. the relationship development and the characterization and the plot just thickened like the last two chapters and rattling the bars of my cage I hate these two this fic is so damn cool. also did i mention the grian characterization and development i need to throw him against a WALL /AFF

So yeah ifff you decide or anyone reading this decides to read these fics I hope you enjoy :DDD And im so glad you liked the ones I draw art for too!

also cough wheeze cough MHM hotguycomiczine has so many amazing fics too... i drew covers for. i guess two fics now and one is a collab??? so im just saying... 6 days lef [gets dragged off the stage]

[sionisjaune]

I know I should care about the reason why you're naked in my bed, but for now I'll just enjoy it - for any lewis ship?

For the smut dialogue prompt game. Urban fantasy wizards sex curse lewis/mick???

Mick writhed under the thin sheet, the cuff around his wrist biting into the thin skin of his wrist. He tried to slip his hand out—he would have broken the hand if he could—and stretch towards Lewis, but his efforts were useless. Perched primly on the foot of the bed, Lewis’s mouth twisted, his brows drawn tight together. 

“Please, Lewis,” said Mick, not even completely sure what he was begging for. He just knew, in his lust-addled brain, that he needed to be near Lewis. He needed to wrap all of his limbs around him, suck on his neck, slide down his throat. Skin to skin contact wouldn’t be enough, he knew. He needed to wear Lewis, become him, slough him off like a coat and put him on again.

Lewis shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mick,” he said. His nose stud sparkled in the light that made it through the slats in the blinds. The air was dusty and thick like Lewis didn’t really live in his apartment. Mick knew he spent most of the year jetting around the globe fixing wealthy people’s problems with the magic his clients mistook for clever illusion, sleight of hand and exceptional luck. 

“I’m sorry you got caught in the crossfire,” said Lewis, still frowning. “I shouldn’t have taken you along. That curse was a nasty piece of work.” 

Mick moaned. He heard it come out of him, high and urgent like air leaving a balloon, but was unable to do anything about it. “Please,” he said thoughtlessly. 

“Sebastian is coming with the antidote,” said Lewis, evenly. He reached a hand towards Mick’s knee and then seemed to think better of it and withdrew it. Mick felt the phantom touch of his fingertips on his skin regardless—five hot points that he would have felt if Lewis would just fucking touch him already. He yanked at the cuff again, heard the other side rattle around the bars of the headboard. He didn’t even care about the curse. It probably wasn’t even related to the curse, his brain told him, this itching, burning need to have Lewis in any way he could. He vaguely remembered watching Lewis pick delicately at the charmed latch on the old woman’s jewelry box, remembered a bright turquoise light nearly blinding him and then a stinging sensation in his chest—the next thing he remembered was waking up cuffed to Lewis’s bed, his clothing missing and a bottomless ache in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m going to die,” said Mick, very seriously. He swallowed, his throat dry. He felt like it was true. “If you don’t touch me.” Lewis frowned again, pursing his lips. “Lewis,” Mick said again, so that Lewis knew he meant it. 

“I can’t touch you,” said Lewis. 

“Why not,” said Mick, squeezing his eyes shut. A wave of discomfort like he was holding onto a livewire shivered through his body. When it passed, it left all his muscles twitching towards Lewis and a searing pain behind his eyes. “Why not, if I’m going to die if you don’t.” 

“You’re not going to die,” said Lewis. “It’s not that kind of curse.” 

“Please,” said Mick again. He managed to say the word in a controlled manner once before another painful tremor passed over him and his mouth started making sounds he hadn’t okayed. “Please please please please please please,” he heard himself say. 

“Seb will be here soon,” said Lewis. 

Mick moaned again, thrashing underneath the sheet. The corner slipped off his shoulder and down his torso, a gust of tepid air wicking away the sweat beading on his abdomen. In the corner of Mick’s vision, Lewis’s gaze flicked towards Mick’s uncovered stomach before he flinched away. “I can’t hold on that long,” said Mick. He attempted to sit up, and only managed to curl in on himself like a pillbug. 

“You can,” said Lewis, a tension in his voice. He was very carefully refusing to look at Mick, which made the heat in Mick’s stomach flare again. He needed Lewis or he would die. That was certain. 

“You’re going to let me die, Lewis,” said Mick, unable to think. He writhed on the bed, the sheets spilling off of his body and slipping off the bed. He didn’t know when he had lost his clothes or why, or if it was related to the curse that his frantic hindbrain tried to tell him he shouldn’t worry overmuch about. “Touch me, Lewis. Or you’re going to kill me.” 

By the time the sheet had slipped off of Mick’s hips, Lewis seemed unable to ignore Mick any longer. The fire in Mick’s belly crackled triumphantly. It seemed like the intensity of Lewis’s gaze alone was enough to quiet the need eating Mick from the inside. 

“If I…” said Lewis, voice thin. “If I touched you, you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t stop you,” said Mick, eagerly. He was getting what he needed, finally. “I wouldn’t want to.” 

“Mick, I,” said Lewis, swallowing. “You wouldn’t even know if you wanted to. You don’t even know what you want now.” He looked away, the motion obviously effortful. “Seb is coming with the antidote.” 

[fallingforfictionalcharacterss]

Hi, I hope you're having a great day :) your blog is amazing!!

Can you possibly do a Draco x female reader in which the reader is deaf and Draco falls in love with her. And he learns asl to be able to communicate with her.

Love language

A/N: After months I finally finished this request, I´m sorry it took me so long. To be honest, I struggled with writing this, since I had some problems putting myself into the position of a deaf reader. I only realized while writing this how often I use auditory stimuli to describe certain things. Also, I wasn´t quite sure how to write dialogues in sign language (I just kept on using direct speech because I have no idea how to do it differently, is that how you do it?). However, I did some research on perceptions of deaf people as well as asl, but I´m still not completely happy with how it turned out. So if you notice any parts where I screwed up, please tell me, so I can adapt the story and make it more realistic (as realistic as it gets writing about fictional characters and magic, but I think you get my point). Anyway, I hope you still enjoy reading!

The sun was shining bright today. You squinted your eyes and raised your head, facing the light. The warm days were drawing to a close and you wanted to cherish every single ray of sunshine on your skin. If it wouldn’t be for the cool breeze blowing through the courtyard, you would have never guessed, that fall was close.

You let out a small sigh as you returned your attention to the essay lying on your lap. If you would keep on getting distracted by things as simple as the beauty of that day, you would never be able to finish all of your assignments. But then again, wasn’t that what made life so amazing? Finding the beauty in even the smallest things? Not if you wouldn’t pass your exams at the end of the year because you couldn’t keep your attention on the parchment in front of you.

But just as you had finally managed to get back to work, a movement in the corner of your eye made you look back up again. You saw one of your friends approaching you, grinning at you as a greeting. You mirrored her smile. But instead of sitting down next to you, she stopped in front of you looking down at you.

“Are you coming?”

You raised an eyebrow as your gaze shifted from the movements of her hands to her eyes.

You raised your right index finger, shaking it slightly.

“Where?”

Your friend rolled her eyes.

“Class obviously.”

You took a look at your watch and cursed yourself. Over the assignment, you had totally forgotten the afternoon class. But by now, you still had some time.

“I just need to finish the paragraph real quick. You can go ahead.”

Your friend shrugged her shoulders.

“If you say so. But don’t be too late.”

You laughed.

“Don’t worry. I won´t be.”

“If you say so.”

Your friend threw you a distrustful glance before she made her way to the class.

Not even ten minutes later, you followed her. Even though you needed to walk a bit faster than usual, you were still good in time.

At least you were until you rushed around a corner and bumped into someone.

“Sorry.”, you mumbled.

But your counterpart didn’t seem to care about your excuse. Draco Malfoy was staring down at you with cold eyes. You could see his mouth moving quickly and from what you could read from his face, he didn’t seem to be exactly pleased by the situation.

Once the string of words coming from his mouth ended, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking at you expectantly. But since you hadn’t heard a word coming from his mouth, you just looked at him with widened eyes.

“What, don’t want to answer me?”, he sneered, as you could read from his lips.

“Forgot I´m deaf?”, you answered, while bringing your index finger from your ear to your mouth.

You could literally see the rattling inside Draco´s brain until the penny dropped. Completely lost in his rage, he had actually forgotten that you couldn’t hear a single word coming from his lips. He opened his mouth, wanting to respond, before closing it again, with an irritated look on his face. You blamed it on the fact that his tirades were worthless towards you. You were for sure able to read the lips of other people, but only if they spoke slowly and clearly. And even though you had to admit that you wouldn’t have minded staring at Draco´s -how you had to admit- very beautiful lips for a bit longer, you knew that a conversation wouldn’t be exactly productive like that. But this was nothing you could fix.

With a swish of your wand, you conjured the bodyless hands, that had helped you out so many times before. Because when it came to communicating with people who weren’t able to understand sign language, as a wizard, you had a leading edge over the muggles. While the person who wanted to talk to you, just could ramble on however they pleased, you were able to conjure said hands, who would take over the signing for the person. You on the other hand could just use sign language, while your counterpart would hear your voice speaking. It wasn’t like you were completely unable to speak yourself, but since you had been deaf since you had been born, your pronunciation sometimes still made it hard for others to understand you when you had a longer conversation. And while your family and friends were all capable of signing, many people, including your Professors, weren’t able to do so, at least not to the extent when you were able to have a normal conversation with them or follow the classes. That´s why this complex spell was a brilliant way to make communication with others much easier, for you as well as others. Just like it did now.

Draco still looked slightly irritated and was searching for the right words.

“Honestly, we shared classes for years now. How could you forget?”, you signed, while you knew that Draco was able to hear the words as if you would be speaking to him directly.

“Sorry, I…”, Draco hesitated. One of the hands you had conjured, clenched into a fist and drew some circles in front of his chest before it froze in its position.

You couldn’t help the small smile that crept on your lips as you saw Draco´s ears turning slightly pink.

Draco and you had attended Hogwarts together ever since you turned eleven. But since you were in different houses, the two of you barely ever had any contact with each other. You highly doubted you had ever had an actual conversation, most likely due to the fact that Draco generally avoided talking to anyone who wasn’t a Slytherin, except if he wanted to bully them. But luckily, you had never been the victim of his attacks. So you were quite sure that you would remember if you would have ever interacted with the one and only Draco Malfoy, besides some group work in the classes you shared. But not only his reputation was the reason that Draco had by now definitely caught your eye more than a few times. Because overall, the tall Slytherin boy was -when he wasn’t bullying some first years at the moment- quite attractive. You often caught yourself staring at him during the classes or the meals, which was to you maybe even more unfavourable than others, since when your attention shifted to the blond boy in the classes, lazily resting his head on the palm of his hand, or playing with his rings, for some reason, you totally forgot looking at the hands dancing around the Professor's body, with the only purpose, that you would look at them and understand what they were teaching at the moment. But who would be able to concentrate on them when you could pay attention to things that were so much more interesting?

But the fact that Draco sometimes made your heart beat faster, even if you barely knew the boy, didn’t mean that you weren’t able to tease him in a situation like this. But as his stutter only got worse, you finally took pity on the boy and threw him a sweet smile.

“Nevermind. It´s alright.”

Draco seemed to be relieved by the fact that you weren’t actually upset with him. But how could you be, when his pale cheeks had taken an as adorable looking shade of pink as they did now?

“I was just in a hurry and I… just didn’t realize it was you. Sorry again.”

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised that Draco actually properly apologized to you. From what you had heard about him, this happened very rarely.

“No. It´s fine. Really.”

Draco threw you a small smile, making your pulse speed up. You could have gotten lost in the way he looked at you. But then again, you knew that this was childish. You weren’t eleven anymore, not as easy to impress as you had been when you had first met Draco. You were by now grown up and totally able to get a grip on yourself again.

“You said you were in a hurry. Don’t want to hold you back then, I guess.”

Once again, Draco smiled at you.

“Don’t we have the same way?”

You frowned.

“Why did you walk in the other direction then?”

The Slytherin chuckled.

“You know there are many ways to reach one´s destination in this castle, don´t you, love?”

You blushed involuntarily as the nickname left his lips. Your gaze shifted from his fists crossed in front of his chest to his eyes, which held an amused sparkle within.

“What are we waiting for then?”, you asked and passed Draco without shooting him a second glance.

You could feel the vibration of his steps on the stone floor as he caught up to you. And when his arms slightly brushed yours and you looked up and saw the boy grinning down at you, you were quite certain that Draco was worth it to form your own impression about the boy and not listen to whatever anyone else was saying. In the end, it fell on deaf ears anyway.

But while you had been slightly concerned that after that meeting in the hallway, Draco would want the two of you to go back to being strangers, you had been wrong. From now on the Slytherin boy showed signs of recognition any time you saw each other. He smiled at you from the other side of the room or raised his hand as a greeting when your ways crossed. However, you barely ever talked to each other, since your friends were anything but a fan of Draco and they were not afraid to show. So when Draco approached you one day after Transfiguration class, they made it very clear, that he was anything but welcome. And while you thought that it was kinda adorable how protective your friends were over you when it came to the boy with the bad reputation, you still chided them for their behaviour as soon as Draco had left, with a -as you thought, or maybe just hoped- slightly disappointed look on his face.

And when you saw him a few days later in the library, you decided to tell Draco, that you -contrary to your friends- didn’t mind his company at all.

When you sat down next to him, the Slytherin looked up at you and seemed to be slightly surprised by the fact that you approached him. Still, he shyly returned the sweet smile you gave him.

“What are you doing?”, you asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“What do you think I am doing in the library when I have a book and my homework in front of me, love?”

There it was again, the warmth flushing through your body, making your cheeks burn.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you´d mind starting a conversation.”

You rolled your eyes.

Draco leant back in his chair, crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at you with narrowed eyes.

“Do you? The other day, it didn’t look like that.”

You sighed.

“I know. Sorry about my friends. I…” You hesitated for a moment before you continued. “I really don’t mind your company.”

“Lovely.”, Draco said, but you could see by the look on his face that he didn’t exactly mean it. You cursed yourself for your poor choice of words.

“No, you got me wrong. It´s quite the opposite. I think I really enjoy your company actually.”, you corrected yourself.

Draco´s face softened again as he saw the way the blush on your cheeks darkened once more.

“You do?”

You nodded determined.

“Just so you know, I do so too.”, Draco said. Then he smirked. “At least I think so.”

You nudged the boy, making him laugh. The vibration went through your entire body, making you shiver.

But when Draco saw the deadly glare Madame Pince threw him, he quickly calmed down again.

“So you don´t mind if I keep your company for a moment?”

“As long as you want to.”

Studying with Draco was actually fun. At least as fun as studying could be. Draco was quite smart and the two of you completed each other just perfectly. While you helped the boy finish his essay, he gave you tips for the potion you had to prepare for Snape´s next lesson. Hours went by, but you barely noticed. Spending your time with Draco, made it pass so much faster than usual.

It was already dark outside when you finally dropped down your quill and leaned back in your chair. Draco did just the same, letting out a small yawn. You couldn’t help the small smile that crept on your face as you noticed how absolutely gorgeous he looked as he squeezed his eyes and the muscles of his yaw tensed. You didn’t even notice the way you were staring at him,until he did.

“Like what you see?”, he asked.

Once more this day, you flushed.

“You wish.”, you responded, trying to hide the fact, that Draco was right. Maybe even more than he knew. If he only knew how much you liked what you saw. How much you liked him. Way too much for your taste, regarding the little time you had spent with one another at this point. Still, you couldn’t help your heartbeat from speeding up as you saw the smug grin on Draco´s face, making you suspect he knew that you may had been not completely honest with him.

“Thanks for helping me with all this.”, you tried to distract, gesturing at the parchment and books, by now spread across all over the table.

“It´s fine.”

You looked at Draco in surprise. Because this time, he hadn’t used his voice and the magic hands to talk to you. Instead, he had made an expansive gesture, extending the fingers of his right hand, bringing it to the middle of his chest, thumb facing him.

Draco seemed to misinterpret your dumbfounded look because he looked at you concerned.

“Did I use this wrong?”, he asked, now using the help of the enchanted hands again.

“No, it´s…” You noticed your hands shaking slightly. How was this boy able to put you off your stride that easy? “How do you know this?”

“So it was correct?”, Draco made sure.

You smiled at him brightly.

“It was. Really good actually. How did you learn this?”

Draco shrugged his shoulder, trying to make his face look unfazed.

“It´s no big deal. You´re doing it all the time, don’t you?”

At this moment, Draco wasn’t exactly sorry that you couldn’t hear him. Because that way you couldn’t notice how proud his voice sounded. Because little did you know that after you had talked to him for the first time, back in that corridor, for some reason, Draco wasn’t able to get you off his mind again. And that the following days, he spent much time thinking how the hell he was going to not only approach you again but would also be able to impress you. And one day, as he watched you being engaged in a conversation with your friend, the two of you gesturing with your hands in a way, that looked to Draco like a secret language, just like to most of the people around you, that looked to Draco like a bonding between the two of you, something creating a special relationship, he knew what he had to do. He wasn’t quite sure yet why he wanted it -or maybe he did, he wasn’t even quite sure of that- but he wanted to share that bond with you as well. He didn’t want to need a stupid spell to be able to talk to you, didn’t want those stupid second pair of hands around him. He wanted to do it himself. Wanted your attention to be focused on him and him completely and wanted to understand the way your hands danced around you so effortlessly. And that´s why the same evening, Draco Malfoy started learning a new language. And he was engaged to it like he had never been for any exam. But the fact that you were smiling at him now oh so sweetly, and the shimmer in your eyes that made his pulse speed up, confirmed to him, that it was worth every single second.

“Yes, but it´s my first language. I grew up with it.”

Draco shrugged his shoulders once more.

“I just picked up on some things you did. It ain´t that hard.”

He was Draco Malfoy after all. He had a reputation to lose. There was no way he would ever admit that he had spent nights trying to hone his movements and learning as many phrases as humanly possible in that short time.

You tilted your head slightly and looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“So you watched me?”

Draco cursed himself. In his eagerness to try to hide the effort he had put into impressing you, he had accidentally slipped another thing he originally didn’t intend you to know.

“You wish.”, he said, copying the way you had tried to hide the fact that he had been calling you out before.

You chuckled.

“Maybe I do.”, you answered and winked at the boy, who felt the blush creeping back on his cheeks as you did so, which made you only laugh.

And when Madame Pince finally had enough of all your giggling and kicked you out of the library, this by far wasn´t the end of the evening.

And since that day, you couldn’t care less about what others were thinking about Draco. Because as time went by, you got to spend more and more of it with him and you loved every single second of it. You loved the warmth that filled up his eyes every time he looked at you, accompanied by the small grin that always played around his lips, and only grew smugger when he realized you were staring at him. You loved his lightweight touch lingering on your skin and the way it sent chills down your spine every single time. You loved the way you recognized the vibration of his steps or the scent of his cologne even when he wasn’t in your field of vision yet. You loved the way he frowned when he tried to understand what you were saying without your communication spell and the way he tried to communicate without any external help as well. Sometimes, when he was using sign language to talk to you, your thoughts drifted off, not focused on the meaning of the movements anymore, but on the way his hands moved carefully, as if he was afraid to say something wrong, the way he sometimes froze in the middle of the movements, trying to remember the next one, the way the rings on his fingers sparkled in the light of the candles lighting up the walls of the castle or the sunlight. And slowly, the realisation started to set in, that you didn’t just love all those things about Draco, but that you simply loved him. And you swore that this was the best feeling you had ever experienced in your entire life. Especially in those moments when you thought that Draco might feel the same. When you saw how his gaze softened when you were around, the way you made him laugh like you barely ever saw it when he was around others, how eager he was to learn your language, and how he sometimes just rested his head on his hand and just looked at you with this stupid beautiful smile on his face that made you blush every single time. Yes, you were in love with that boy, and little did you know that he was in love with you just as much.

By now, it was already spring. The day Draco and you had properly talked for the first time by now felt as if it had happened in another life, but then again you remembered it like it was just yesterday.

You were standing on the Astronomy tower, enjoying the cool breeze that blew up here, while you watched the hustle and bustle on the school grounds as you waited for the exact boy your thoughts were circling about right now.

And once more, you smelt his cologne before he even approached you. Yet, you only tore your gaze apart from the hurly-burly as he leant on the railing next to you. As you looked up at him and saw Draco smiling down at you, you returned it without hesitation.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you obviously.”

Draco raised an eyebrow.

“You missed me?”, he asked with a teasing grin on his lips.

“You know I always do.”, you responded.

For a while, the two of you just chatted about all different kinds of topics. But today, Draco seemed to be a bit distracted. He was biting his lip and shifted from one foot to the other the entire time. And while normally, by now, he was more than capable of having a small conversation with you in sign language, he seemed to mess up even the simplest sentences today. Also, you noticed that his hands were slightly shaking.

And when Draco in the middle of a sentence brought his hand to his forehead, insulting you as a bastard, even if that made totally no sense in the context of what he was telling you, you stopped him, by catching his hands with yours, before the boy would get himself in too deep.

Draco stopped his report in the middle of the sentence, looking at your small hands cupping his bigger ones as if he was mesmerized.

“What´s wrong?”, you asked him with a concerned look on your face.

But Draco just shook his head.

“Nothing.”

But the way he was avoiding your gaze told you differently.

When you placed one of your hands on his cheek, Draco flinched and tensed under your touch, but nevertheless, he gave in to you gently forcing the boy to look at you.

“You can tell me everything. Promised.”, you signed, before interlocking his fingers with yours.

Draco looked at you. You could see the hesitation in his eyes. He seemed to fight with himself before after a few moments he made a decision. Draco brought your hands that were still holding his to his mouth, placing a small kiss on them, making you smile slightly, before he let go of you.

“There´s something I need to tell you. Something I wanted to tell you for a long time.”

You nodded and smiled at him encouragingly.

With a swish of his wand, Draco made the hands you had conjured as usual to support the conversation disappear.

Then, slowly, as if he wanted to control even the slightest movements of him, he raised his hands, his eyes never leaving yours. With his right index finger, he pointed at his chest, before crossing both of his arms in front of it, making some fists with his hands, before pointing at you. Then Draco cleared his throat and buried his hands in the pockets of his robe. He lowered his head, letting his eyes flicker around the tower for a moment, before he glanced up at you, looking at you in apprehensive anticipation.

You looked at the boy, lips slightly parted, eyes wide open. In your head, you played his movements over and over again.

“I love you.” That´s what Draco had just signed. Had it been a mistake? Had he messed up the signs, like he had done many times before today? But then again, everything somehow perfectly made sense. It would explain why he had been so nervous before and why he was looking at you like this now, his eyes filled with anxiousness, yet he still looked hopeful.

But the hope faded with every second that passed. And only when Draco wanted to turn away already, you finally awoke from your rigidity and held him back.

Draco obeyed, as he forced himself to look at you again.

You mirrored Draco´s movements, pointing at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, before you pointed at yourself. The look on your face was questioning.

Draco gave you a short nod and threw you a sad smile, misinterpreting the shock on your face as a rejection. But then, the confused look on your face gave way to the brightest and most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Slowly, you raised your hands again, repeating the movements in reversed order, pointing at yourself first. Draco´s eyes widened, and your smile brightened as you repeated the movement, faster this time.

“You love me too?”, Draco mouthed.

He needed to make sure. Needed to make sure his eyes weren’t fooling him, that he wasn’t dreaming this.

You nodded eagerly.

“I love you too.”, you confirmed out loud.

Even though you couldn’t hear it, for Draco the sound of your voice saying these four little words was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

And as he pulled you in a tight embrace, burying his head in the crook of your neck, you could feel his hot breath on your skin and his lips moving against it, as he repeated the words over and over again: “I love you.”

When you finally pulled back, you only did so to lean in again in the next moment. Draco´s eyes darted from yours to your lips as he asked a silent question. And instead of answering, you just closed the gap between the two of you and pressed your lips on his.

You had never felt anything like this before. It felt like a firework exploding inside you, a warmth spreading from where his lips gently moved against yours through your entire body. You could taste him on your tongue, felt his hands on your hips pulling you closer to him, the vibration of his voice as Draco let out a small groan.

And when you finally pulled back, panting, and you looked into Draco´s eyes, you knew everything he was feeling or thinking right now. You didn’t need any words for this, neither spoken nor signed. And if you were honest, you highly doubted that any words could describe this moment in any language anyway.

Taglist: @xodracomalfoyxo @marigold-morelli @army24—7 @lbhmoon @cappgyuccino @writingwitch007 @myomy0ss @tinafuentes @dmslvt @slytherin4eva

[aheathen-conceivably]

Hi! I’m a huge fan of your work (Josephine, in particular, has my heart! Gio, I tolerate… sorry 🫣), so, firstly, thank you for sharing your lovely creative mind with us.

Second, I hope it’s okay to ask a question! There’s a specific story idea that’s been rattling around in my head for ages now, but try as I might, I can’t seem to make it into anything concrete. I have a few things down (mostly snatches of dialogue, basic facts like character names, and start/end points - i.e. “z and a start as enemies but eventually fall in love”) but I’m struggling to connect point a with point b and actually make it, yknow, a story. Do you have any sage advice/pro tips/divinely-inspired guidance for making a handful of loose ends into something real and fit for Tumblr consumption? Lol.

Thank you in advance!

Hello, there! First and foremost let me apologize for some particular writer out there (ahem, it is me) who may have just gotten herself out of a real bad slump by making Gio a main character 😂

I am SORRY y’all I wasn’t supposed to like him this much I was a Jo girlie forever but now, well, the heart wants what the heart wants. Make no mistake Jo still has my heart but…can’t a girl have both? Y’all out here taking sides already oh my goodness I can’t wait to see y’all for the rest of this decade 😜

Now WHEW! Let me also say I appreciate your kindness about the story. I wish I had more advice for you, but I’m afraid I fell into this without much creative or really any writing background at all, so I’m not sure I’m the source for sage advice. Other than going on my resource page for other tricks that might be helpful, what I will tell you is to write every damn thing down. Like I mean it, one line of dialogue, one idea, one thought. I have stuff everywhere, under to do lists, in massive documents, in scribbles on the back of bills. Eventually I do try and organize it (and this would probably be the time to tell you to maybe not put it in random places where it’s hard to find later 😅), but I’m often shocked at what a small little tidbit later turns into.

As far as connecting those tidbits (which bravo for having them, that’s already more than I did for some parts of the story!), I honestly just feel like the more you write and inhabit the mindset of your little world, the more it comes to you when you aren’t thinking about it. Thanks to my boy Gio (please see above oops) I have been writing nonstop. Chopping onions, folding clothes, driving, just trying to live my life and a scene is playing out in my head. Now mind you, this comes after over a month without a single thought of the story, so it is a process that waxes and wanes.

I would also say not to get frustrated with yourself too early, as again, I think the process of getting into your story is a snowball effect. My early decades had much less going on, and that’s very much for a reason. The process moves with you. That means that I don’t really think there’s a benchmark for “fit for Tumblr consumption.” Doing it is practicing it, and the community is very welcoming to changing style and voice as your work goes on.

Just write my Nonny friend, write whenever your brain tells you to and don’t be afraid to share. And then fall in love with Gio with me 😙

[coldpintglass]

💖👖💭👀 for the fanfic asks!

RIVER!!! Thank you so much for the ask, you’re a babe. Also a great compliment because I love your stuff so much 💖🥺

💖What do you like most about your own writing?

I really enjoy the sort of personable way I write a characters POV/ internal dialogue! Take this snippet from “you’re my baby, say it to me” where Southgate has a clanging realisation about his future:

“He has to quit.

He sits with the thought for a minute, it’s been rattling around his head for days, shadowing him every step of the way. He knows they’ve been calling for his head back home, pundit and public alike.

He should have quit already.  

Fucking hell, he thinks, and then swigs the whole mug of whiskey in one go.”

Because that’s how people think through events. They talk in their head! They bat it around and imagine scenarios and have horrible moments of clarity. It keeps you up at night! 

From a writing perspective: it makes it easier to understand motives, to make a fic memorable plus, frankly, it’s so much fun to both write AND read as if you’re in the characters shoes. Not just watching them from the outside! 

👖 Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent

BOTH. A rough outline of what I want to go down will get plotted, plus I’ll probably spend some time mulling it about my brain to see what jumps out (or more recently, chat about on discord with likeminded folk, HELLO CARRAVILLE DISCORD, LOVE YOU 💖) 

Catch is, I think I have it plotted out and then fuck me, this is taking a turn isn’t it? Whoosh, out goes the plan and in come the vibes. So, swing and a miss tbh. This has happened with all 3 fics I’ve published so far…! 

Like “Amensalism” started life as something else, in fact the section where Southgate dreams about Harry agreeing to letting him care for him was the first part I wrote. It was meant to be much much much more bleak and grim for Harry.

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

That it is painfully obvious that I am English and grew up on British comedy 😔🇬🇧🍺💷

 I think it was Sara (@storyshark2005) who asked in the comment of “i thought maybe we could kiss tonight” if I was British because of my dialogue I’d given Jamie!!! I actually quite love being able to flag that sort of regional U.K. dialogue with words/phrases. Think it puts a nice stamp on the work and also makes me feel I can do a decent job at fleshing out characters. 

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

I think I want this WIP to see the light of day BUT it’s probably the most unsavoury and grim thing I’ve written. I’m not sure how many people would want to imagine it, let alone read it. Anyway, as mentioned above, I totally intended Amensalism to be a much more bleak and nasty fic. I literally dubbed it “SouthKane Misery AU” when writing it as a draft header. 

And then I realised actually where I wanted to go with this. Let’s just say it’s slowly becoming more “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” then I care to admit. 

Here is a snippet of it.

NB: warnings for abandonment, unhealthy relationship, and BDSM. Probably rate this section as a hard T, so nothing explicit. Sorry don’t know how to describe this more specifically but you’ll know fairly quickly if you want to touch this or not. Behind a read more it goes:

“Come on Harry, it’s not difficult” He tugs his hair sharply “Be a good boy now”

“P-please, please I’m sorry, boss, please-“ he chokes on a sob. 

It’s exceedingly easy to get Harry to cry, that’s not a problem necessarily, quite the opposite. But Gareth is almost suprised it’s this easy to start seeing cracks in him - he’s a ugly crier, lips pulled up high, nose and eyes streaming, blotchy red face. 

However, tears means he’s making progress.

“All you have to do is let go, I’m not sure why that’s so hard for you” Another tug, another sob. 

“I-I’m not a dog” he croaks out “Boss, please, Gareth -“

Defiance and using his name? Christ, can’t even piss outside without making a huge deal about it. Gareth tuts, it’s a shame really, two steps forward and one step back. 

Still, nothing a night outside in the stables can’t fix. 

He lets go of Harry hair, turns on his heel and locks the door.

*

Gareth finds he’s almost tempted to flick the heating on, it’s gotten chilly this morning, a welcome reprieve after a week of hot afternoons and muggy evenings. Woven silk threads are scattered across the grass, coated in dew, glinting in the dappled sunlight from the trees. He couldn’t ask for a better a view out over the window by the kitchen sink. It’s times like this hes especially glad for the house, even if it needs constant matience and having to wrangle around the council if he wants to do anything. But a Quick Look at the vistas outside and all is forgiven.

Speaking of. 

He grabs a bowl from the cabinet, filling it with tap water, and pulls a banana off from the bunch in the fruit bowl. He’ll give Harry something a bit more substantial once he’s inside and got him to ask for it nicely. It’s finding the right balance that’s tricky, he does love him, honest, even after everything. 

But that doesn’t mean he’s above correcting Harry when he goes wrong. 

As he opens the door, the cold nips at Gareth, that’s a little bit fresher than he was expecting to be. Well, he’s not a monster, he throws the dogs blanket over his shoulder. He pulls on his outdoor shoes he keeps by the door and walks across to the stables, the dawn chorus starting to wind down to make way for the rest of the day. 

A quick turn of the key in the lock and he is greeted by Harry blearily staring up at him from the floor. He’s hit by the stench of piss and body odour as he step inside, a dark puddle shaped stain on the concrete beneath Harry.

He puts the bowl and banana down in front of Harry, bending down as he reaches round to click open the lock on his wrists and is taken a back by how grimy Harry feels, specks of dirt and dust covering his goose flesh skin. His skin blossoming under different shades of pink and red, the chill slowly creeping around his body. 

Not a peep from Harry. No crying, no whinging, no sharp comments. It’s lovely. Gareth can’t resist indulging him with a kiss to his temple, he’s done so well, wrapping the blanket round his shoulders. 

“You ready to be nice and listen to me now, sweetheart?”

Harry manages a shallow nod, his hands shaking as he tugs the blanket right around him. 

“Good boy, have a drink and I’ll feed you after” 

[anyablackwood]

Tips for when you're struggling to "just write"

I'm sure we've all heard the advice to "just write" at some point. And while it's totally correct, the actual act itself is usually the main battle. Obviously we're all different and how we work and stay motivated etc. will also be different, but here's some stuff you can try if you haven't already!

Change the medium You'd be surprised how much this can help sometimes. Whatever you primarily use to write your stories- whether it's paper or computer, try switching it up. I usually use my computer to put my stories down, so if I'm struggling I bust out a notebook and pen. If you can't do that, simply making a new document or using a different writing app/site can help too. Hell, cut out the writing aspect entirely and just record yourself talking! Oftentimes, the hangup is centered around trying to pick up where you left off, and the pressure of "carrying the vibe/momentum" of the most recent scene. A "blank slate" can help remove the pressure if you're not looking at your other scenes. This ties into my next tip.

New scene!!! Like I said- sometimes, part of the pressure behind writing is when you try to pick up where you left off. It isn't just daunting, it's impossible when you genuinely don't know where to go next. Personally, I often run into the problem of "now what?" I don't know how to create "connective tissue" scenes, or (as I said), keep the momentum as I finish a planned Important Scene. So picking a random point in the story- whether that's the next Important Scene or one I haven't even figured out a place for yet- and just writing from there can really help. And this point also ties into my next tip!

FUCK PROSE. Seriously. I get VERY hung up on words not Wording properly, and it drives me insane. Often, I get so hung up on HOW to say what I MEAN to say, that I'll never end up writing anything down- and then I end up forgetting what I was going to say at all. Bulleting out my lines can help, but it's often even harder to translate those bullets into actual dialogue for me, so I try not to do that. Instead, I actually write out the scenes- but I do it really, really directly and plainly. Obviously, if inspiration strikes on a line, that's fine, but the point is to have a scene written. I try to be as quick and direct as possible, like a report or stage directions. "Oh, but I used 'muttered' to describe dialogue 3 times!" Oh well. "But this is just a full page of dialogue and no action or movement!" Too bad. The point isn't the pretty prose. You can cry about that later, after you actually write it. That's what revisions are for. You know you're just gonna obsess over and rewrite your work anyway, no matter how much time you're gonna spend on it the first go around. Save that headache for future you. They were gonna have one anyway.

Get up and go! It might surprise you, but sometimes it's the scenery of real life that you need to worry about. Whether it's getting up and moving to a different chair in your room, or moving to an entirely new building, sometimes being somewhere else rattles something loose inside your brain. Especially if you tend to write in your room- I personally can't do homework in my room because of all the clutter, but also because my mind associates my room with relaxing. I sleep, play video games, and tinker with my pet projects in my room. So if I can't focus, I go to my dining or living room, or even my campus library. Something about being around other people makes it easier to hold myself accountable.

Set realistic goals. Sometimes part of the problem is that you can't seem to find time, or that even when you do find time, it's never enough to make significant progress in your story. I struggle to dive headfirst into a scene even when I'm bursting with ideas- I need to review the most recent scene before I can start generating words. But knowing how much progress- or lack thereof- that's been made on your story can sometimes make it really overwhelming to even approach it. But like any other task, it's easier when you break it down. If the most you can write on the average day is three sentences, aim to write three sentences a day. Even if you end up scrapping them later, WRITE THEM. At the very least, it'll help build the habit and make it easier for you to seek out time and write in the future.

Take a break. Sometimes you really, really just can't write. No one else can assess what you need better than yourself. If you feel like you need a break, take one. Whether that's reading someone else's story, or taking a walk, or taking a nap, or just staring at that one spot on your wall, just PUT THE DAMN STORY DOWN. This is probably one you've heard before, but I'm saying it anyway, because some of you aren't listening!!!!! PUT IT DOWN, BESTIE!!!

That's all I can think of at the moment. These are all things I try to do personally, and while I'm not some award-winning novelist, I'm definitely writing things and trying my best!!! So maybe this will help someone else who's also trying their best, and just hasn't come across one of these methods yet.

[mimbotomy]

Thank you @lazuliquetzal for the tag! 🩷

How many works do you have on AO3? 10! Which feels small because I have more than three times as many WIPs rattling around in my google docs rip

What’s your total AO3 word count? 561,190

What fandoms do you write for? AC Odyssey! Except I write so many crossovers so I have a couple other fandoms on my AO3 as well. I also have WIPs for AC Valhalla, House of the Dragon, and ATLA. Fun fact, I also have Odyssey crossovers planned for two of those fandoms, and I'll let you guess which two 😜

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Rebirth - My beloved, my baby, I swear I am still writing this My Miraculous Ladybug fic - I wrote this seven years ago and like to pretend it doesn't exist Assassins, Atlantis, and Avengers - Unfortunately on indefinite hiatus, but I've gotten so many nice comments on it recently that I've been thinking a lot about it! The Children of Kephallonia - MY FAVORITE FIC OF MINE EVERYONE SHOULD READ THIS I'M SO PROUD OF THIS ONE Not a Malákes Ravenclaw - Absolutely ridiculous I can't believe people actually like this (it's so fun to write tho 😂)

Do you respond to comments? I do my best but I'm not actually the best lol

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Of my published fics, The Lioness, but only if you read the first chapter and ignore my ramblings in the second chapter about how SPOILERS deaths would change canon.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? There is No Escape...! It technically has the same ending as my other Kassandra drags Phoibe out of the Underworld fic, but this fic has a planned sequel called the Electric Boogaloo, so I think it's obvious which one I had more fun writing 😂

Do you get hate on fics? One or two negative comments but for the most part people have been really nice to me! Which I appreciate, because I am a smol anxious bean who just wants friends 🥰

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have a few bordering on spicy scenes, but no real smut.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? BOY DO I HAVE CROSSOVERS I have so many crossovers, like too many crossovers, all putting the queen of my heart Kassandra the Eagle Bearer in another universe and making her the main character she is clearly supposed to be. My craziest one is probably my AC Odyssey x Harry Potter crossover, but I am now hesitant to call it crazy because it now seems to make sense to me??? So maybe I'm going crazy???

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Nope!

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope again!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Once again, nope! But I honestly think co writing a fic would be so fun to try, at least once.

What’s your all time favorite ship? Kassidas. I always liked it but it has legitmately taken over my brain the last year. I blame @aeide's amazing Kassidas' fics

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Assassins, Atlantis, and Avengers. It's on indefinite hiatus right now because while I have an outline and even a few scattered scenes written, actually writing it seems impossible right now. But I hold out hope that I will come back to it one day!

What are your writing strengths? Character relationships! (At least in my opinion lol)

What are your writing weaknesses? Does constantly going back and rewriting chapters because I slightly changed my idea and want to foreshadow things better count? If not, I could be better at setting the scene and not just imagining it in my head.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Definitely not opposed to doing so, albiet through google translate because I am truly terrible with languages, but I always try to keep it short and I include translations in the endnotes.

First fandom you wrote for? Miraculous Ladybug. I sometimes like to pretend that fic doesn't exist because I feel bad that I forgot what I had planned/never finished it.

Favorite fic you’ve written? THE CHILDREN OF KEPHALLONIA I feel like I really came into my own as a writer when I started plotting out this fic and I'm really happy with my worldbuilding, character relationships, misc narrative choices, and just how my writing style has improved from my first fics. If you want to read any of my fics, I recommend this one.

I vaguely remember doing this exact tag game at some point, but time is an illusion and I have no idea when this was! So if I tag you and you did this recently, do not feel any pressure to do it again!

Tagging @aeide, @uhhhyaenbyjade, @zephyrwolf5, @ithinkthiswasabadidea, and anyone else who wants to do this!

[fragilecapric0rnn]

whatcha readin?

tagged by @judasofsuburbia and have been trying to cross some things off of my tbr so LETS GET INTO IT!

choke up (on your bat and on my heart) aka the ronance softball rivals fic that has been rattling around my brain for the past week! I always forget how much i LOVE sports rivals, esepcially when its gay. delicious delicious food right here<3

the slumps, the streaks, the changes that weren't really changes the ronance ice hockey au [are we noticing a trend here folks? what can i say? i love sports au! i am eating them up with a spoon!!!] i started reading this last summer and then forgot about it and then remembered it and decided to re-read. SO GOOD. Nancy's characterization and comphet journey is just so! it's just so!!!!!

driving in your car by my big-brained, wonderful friend @kkpwnall I am still catching up on this one but DUDE. DUDE! it is so so good. Kk's dialogue is so REAL it feels like i'm listening to the characters have actual conversations in my head, just so so good!!! Don't even get me started on the slow burn, the yearning! GOD the YEARNING!!!! No one is doing it like Kk! GO READ THIS!!!

never made it to graceland by another beautifully big brained friedn @cheatghost this fic reminded me just how much i love sci-fi, why i love it as much as i do, and the reason i'm here on this site in these fandoms in the first place. the world doesn't end but also the apocalypse doesn't end and Eddie lives and it's 1988 and GAH i don't wanna say too much, but Lou's craft is always just so fucking beautiful, i'm not surprised it blew me away YET AGAIN!

how the light gets in by ANOTHER beautifully big brained friend @fastcardotmp3 frigid girl x final girl. kas!chrissy wheelingham and it is living in my head rent free baby! i can feel the grief and the anguish in my gut. dot's writing is just so tangible i can feel it in my bones! so so good! (also need to catch up on the latest installment, so we will be reading together friends!)

Hi, Nice To Meet Me! by anonymous Not much to say other than steddie au where canon steddie meet variations of fanon steddie. My dream fic!

tagging! @judasofsuburbia (again bc it's been a while and im curious what you're reading now hehehe) @figthefruitfaeth @gothbat99 @hellsfireclub @fastcardotmp3 + anyone else who wants to do it! say i tagged ya!

[whysamwhy123]

✨Fic Writing Review 2023✨

Tagged by the wonderful dynamic duo that is @aerodaltonimperial and @perhapswhoknowsvamp and it's very fitting that those two lovely people tagged me because they're a big reason why I wrote much of anything this year! Took me a while to get this done because I wanted to get my last fic of the year out the door first. I'll put the rest below the cut, and fair warning - it's loooooong. This bitch doesn't shut up, so I rambled on. A lot.

Words and Fics

76, 222 words published on AO3 in 2023

15 fics published on AO3 (16 if you count that one kinkmeme prompt I filled and posted anonymously)

2 little tumblr ficlets

Top 3 by Kudos

Voice in the Dark - Hookhausen (not super surprising, considering it was a popular pairing at the time, and it was the fic I wrote for the anniversary event)

Kids These Days And Their Darn Phones - Hookhausen

Half Your Age Plus Seven - OrangeHook (I continue to be incredibly surprised how well this fic did, like...huh?!)

Top 3 by Hits

Voice in the Dark - Hookhausen

Voice in the Dark, Part Two - Hookhausen (how fitting, LOL)

Half Your Age Plus Seven - OrangeHook (Seriously, what was it about this fic that drew people in? More so than any of my other OrangeHook fics? Like, I'm grateful and all but also confused, like this fic is way too long?! And weird about the age difference?!)

Author's Favourite

As much as I'm loving writing OrangeHook now, I think Voice in the Dark, Part Two is probably the best thing I've written? Even though it's also overly long and gets weird at the end (very much did not expect it to go in that direction when I started writing it), I'm actually pretty proud of how that one turned out. I had a clear vision in my head for how each scene would play out and what I wanted to get across, and man, I remember how most of the Hook/Evilhausen dialogue popped into my brain late one night when I couldn't sleep, so I spat it out into a doc and then about a month later when I actually wrote the scene, I don't think I changed a single word? I just added everything else around it, all the not-dialogue parts. And it was just a lot of fun getting to carry on that story, especially as someone who hasn't managed to crank out a proper multi-chapter fic yet. Who knows, maybe I'll return to that world someday...

Fandom Events in 2023

Uh, well, I guess I did the whole Hookhausen Anniversary thing? And...that's about it. I'm pretty disconnected from the fandom at large, whoopsie daisy 😬

Upcoming Projects

Hoo boy.

I have over 5k words of a Ricky/Christian Sugar Baby AU thing written already. I haven't posted it because it kinda needs some smut and that's still not something I can really do. I might post it someday, if I can make something work, or alternatively do what I normally do and put an annoying fade to black in there. Or maybe I'll think better of it and never post it because it's very self-indulgent and I highly doubt anyone else would really be interested or want me to continue it or anything. But I have Ideas for it...so many ideas...

Also, in my ill-fated quest to try and make myself write smut, I kinda started a Ricky/Bill championship celebration fic. Maybe I'll revisit that? Try to get it done?

And then there's that one fic I really want to work on, but have barely started. I've vague-posted about it here before - it's an incredibly fucked-up Dead Dove fic about Daniel Garcia and a Very Bad, Not-Good thing that happens to him, and the subsequent complete mental breakdown that follows. I've had the idea rattling around in my brain for the better part of a year at this point, despite not making much actual progress on it. Every time I think about it though, I have new ideas for scenes or dialogue. I'd like to make it work, but I don't know if I have the writing chops to handle it, plus it would probably end up being super long and nobody would want to read it, so it'd feel like a huge waste of time on my part? And I've had the idea for so long, it's out-dated too. But still, the urge remains...

Oh, and I still have a ton of OrangeHook ideas I'd like to make happen. Some are, of course, about their age difference. Some would (ideally) involve smut. And others... *nervous laughter* Others would likely result in an ''Everyone disliked that'' situation...

Writing Reflection

I was thinking about making a sappy post about this and whoops, here's my excuse! I don't talk a lot on here about my tragic backstory because honestly, who cares? But I will say this - before January of this year, I hadn't written a word of anything in years. Fic or otherwise. I used to love writing, but Stuff Happened and it killed all enjoyment I got out of it, and I thought that's how it would be forever. Then, for reasons I can't even remember, I started reading fic again, specifically in this wild little fandom of ours, and y'all are just so talented that it made my untalented ass want to give it another shot. So...I did.

I remember when I posted my first fic in ages back in January, I thought ''Maybe about three people will read this and no one will leave a comment or anything, but whatever, I wrote a thing and that's something I haven't done in years so that's enough for me!'' And to be honest, I still think that whenever I post stuff now? It's crazy to me that anyone actually reads my stuff and gets some kind of kick out of it. But every kudos and comment floors me and brings me so much joy, I can't even express it properly. I have to say a huge thank you to anyone who's ever read one of my fics, left kudos or dropped a comment. Whoever and wherever you are, you made my day!

And look, I ain't delusional. I know that calling myself a small fish in the fandom would be too generous. But I'm fine with that - because I'm genuinely enjoying writing again and that's what matters most to me. Even though I've also rediscovered how stressful writing can be (🙂🙂🙂) when it comes down to it, there's joy and happiness in my life that wasn't there last year and that's all because I started writing again. And because some lovely folks here decided to let me know they liked what I was throwing out there. The years have not been kind to ol' Sammy Sam-Sam and this year was no exception, but getting to forget about all that shit and write my silly little wrestling fanfiction has been a great distraction and a comfort through this whole year.

So...yeah. Thanks to everyone who's ever commented on my writing, thanks to the folks who follow me on here (I don't know how you manage that though, I'm such an annoying bitch, aren't you sick of me yet?) and thanks to anyone who I've had the chance to chat with about writing and ships and whatever silly little ideas pop into my head (any of y'all feel free to message me at any time, I am always down to blab about whatever blorbos/ideas take your fancy). I'm hoping I can keep this train a-rollin' a little more next year. Still thinking back to when I started writing again, I made my new AO3 account expecting to write Dustjim only, but then I quickly decided I couldn't write those two well enough, and since then I've bounced around a bunch of different pairings, with a few rarepairs shoved in between for good measure. God only knows where my head will be at this time next year, LOL. I'd love to finally be able to attempt some of the bigger ideas I've been cooking up for a while now. Maybe I'll even write a proper multi-chapter fic? We'll see, but this bitch can dream, at least.

Rules:

Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please do eat glass, I’ve heard it’s good for your gums.

I'm not going to tag anyone because I'm pretty sure everyone I know who writes has already been tagged? So if you're reading this and you haven't, go ahead and do it! By which I mean, eat glass. Eat all the glass that you want. Accidents happen in the dark.

[gioiaalbanoart]

Hello my talented friend! Ashley is stealing my heart. When can I read about her adventures? Also: can you tell me more about her? Where did she come from (in your brain) and why is she so cool?

Hello @fortunatetragedy !!!

Tons of kudos are flying to you, catch them 💗💗💗

(catch something to drink too is gonna be long 🍻 🍻🍻...)

****

Right now Ashley is arching a brow at me , arms crossed and foot tapping (even more than usual) to hurry up and get to work at her story. She's actually being patient (yes, she can be!) .

Because she knows I HAVE to close another writing fanfic first, which hopefully I'll do in the next couple of days  🤞 🤞 

This is just how it has to be because I have to close a circle. We made a pact about it and I have no intention to piss her off more than I already did 😅

****

Right now I have approximately four draft/chapters and a lot of scattered material such as scene/dialogues/bits-of-plot-outlined-sort-of..... (big LOL on the last one , I might start to use post-it on the door too).

All of it basically on my computer or in snippets here on tumblr Which is why I was wondering on a section/post to keep updated until I'm ready to start sharing more....

Because (drums rattling) : The scarred angel is, in my brain for now, the first one of a trilogy.

It gives you an idea of how much urgent is for me to start working on it seriously and, most of all, continuously.

I'd like publish (on AO3, I suppose) once I complete and edit the first draft/book.....(I'm already sweating)

This while I'll work on the second book and so on (kind of like you're doing for DMLS).

This is the idea.....

NOW : We both know how wide is that fucking gap between an idea and real life, don't we?

****

Ashley Knox pointed her face in my brain exactly one year ago, just like that : that name, curly blonde hair, arctic eyes, scars, bad temper and all.

With a possible quest/investigation somehow linked to drug cartels (Thank you Ashley!)

I was just back to writing then, I already had others ideas but she just wouldn't leave me alone until my best on line friend pointed out she was so persistent because I HAD to write her story and there was no way around it.

I'm sure you're familiar with the situation....

So I started to write bits here and there while a kind of world/plot was taking his weird shape (the shape is still quite weird btw).

It includes violence because the story evolves mainly on the mexican border and will be somehow linked to drug cartels and, here too, there is no way around it.

But I want it also to be about healing and magic despite the plot/investigation and the background of the two MC (Ashley Knox and Amy Salinas, journalist, friend and...we'll see).

The magic part might be "subtle vibes, kind of, but consistent" and I know it will be a huge pain in the ass (More sweating here)

****

Ashley has been scarred when she was sixteen (in the story she's about 23), can't say who did it because it's part of the plot 😉

She has a raw temper and is a lone (red) wolf.

She always rubbed shoulders with taking care of herself, growing alone, dealing with random stray like her , cartels, violence, guns and so on. She also will seek for revenge.

I'm thinking at her revenge as parallel with the main investigation.

Despite the world she evolved in she has her own strict moral code, a lot of sarcasm and lot of strenght.

She could use some love too ....but she's really selective about it.

The "love" part would be ,idealistically, part of her healing path.

Of course it never goes from point A straight to point B.....

Amy is around same age, suffers from ptsd after being raped and "casually" meets Ashley and decides to stick around against ALL ODDS....

Part of it because she's thunderstruck /love first sight kind of 😂 , BUT nothing will be obvious about it. ...

Part is because she will be claiming her life back (healing again). Amy is strong too, in a different way, and that's not her world.....

I see Ashley/Amy relationship as a kind of love story/slooooooooooooooooow burn....I'll try to make it weird as possible and probably fail but we'll see 😉

The line relationship/love line will totally evolve with the flow.

****

I'll stop here because I' could probably go on and brag about Ashley even longer (You have my endless gratitude for giving me the opportunity btw 💗💗 )

****

Weird bonus facts

There is a "Jaime" in Ashley's background story that has been important to her, in a weird kind of way.... The guy is already dead but he' ha's been there with that exact name since the beginning. And now I know you 😉

Ashley has three scars : a long one on her right cheek, another on her forehead and a smaller like a sick joke of a smile on her left cheekbone....One year after she's born in my brain I have now a 25 stitches scar too (the recent surgery) . Lucky me on my smaller back not face but I can't help to think about some kind of parallel. For me casual/random don't exist. I just hope that it stops there....😅😅😅

Her favorite line is : "I don't care what you think" and goes around in my brain multiple times a day. Again, nothing casual.

"The end" for now 🙏💗💗🙏