nonsono

[jubshead]

𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐦

Paring: Agatha Harkness x Reader | Platonic Nicholas & Reader

Summary: Nickie’s mom has got it going on.

A/N: I started writing this a long time ago, but procrastination took the best out of me when I realized it was going to be bigger than I expected. This is the biggest thing I’ve written so far and I hope you guys like it!

This fanfiction is inspired by the song Stacy’s mom. There are a lot of references to the lyrics and the clip, so let me now which ones do you guys catch!

OH AND if you guys click on the clothe I’m describing, a link will take you to the image a had in my mind while writing.

This isn’t beta read and english isn’t my mother language, so bear with me.

Warning: Smut, age difference (18+).

Word count: 8.1k

Date: Oct 29, 2024

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Masterlist

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

Being back in your hometown feels weird, the feeling of seeing people stuck in time and unsatisfied with their life always gives you a turn on the stomach. You’d rarely come up here after your family moved a few years ago, the main reason for visiting was your bestfriend Nicholas, but more times than not he was the one who traveled to spend time with you. Your city was so much better in multiple senses, especially now that you live at the college dorm. 

As you didn’t have any relatives in town, you inevitably stayed at Nickie’s house. This time though, you felt like an intruder. Your friend commented on his parents’ recent divorce and how tension had been high for a while in their house before the separation. 

During the years you’ve known Nicholas, you hardly ever saw his parents, they were always on some kind of work trip and left Nicholas to be the host of the house when you were there. Weirder, though, was the fact that they were never together. From what your friend had told you, they traveled at the same time, but to completely different places. Apparently they were both on the enterprise business, you weren’t really sure of what. 

You’d cross paths with Mr. Scratch a couple of times, but you hadn't seen his mother since moving away as a child, you just remember her imposing presence and the overwhelming crush you used to have on her. 

Your friend had mentioned that she would be home this time. She hadn’t taken a vacation in years, but the separation seemed to bring calmness to her and she was trying to spend more time with her son, at least that’s what he told you, and it wasn’t like she needed to work overtime for money, they were rolling in it. 

You shyly roll your suitcase into the house’s pathway, anxiety eats you away and you hope that the person who greets you is your friend. It would feel awkward enough having Mrs. Harkness around the house while you were there, you didn’t want to re meet her after such a long time without Nicholas as a bridge. 

Letting out a breath when you see your friend’s smile, you jump into his arms, barely giving him time to catch you. His forearms circle your waist and lift your feet off the ground, shaking you left and right like a ragdoll. You huff and hear the sound of your bag hitting the ground after colliding with your foot. 

“Okay, okay. That’s enough.” You playfully pat him on his back and wait for him to settle back down. 

“Excuse me for being excited to meet my friend, who I haven't seen in over a year, 'cause she’s too preoccupied with her studies.” He uses your own words to mock you.

“Well…I’m here now, aren’t I?” Your shrug and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Come on, be useful for once and help me with my bag.” You walk past him and leave your suitcase at the door. 

“I forgot how insufferable you are.” He complains loud and clear, you turn back around in time to catch the smile in his face and stick out your tongue. 

“You know you love it!” 

“I might.” He mumbles under his breath and you ignore him, turning back around and going up the stairs. 

Your relationship with Nickie has always been light and playful, he was like the little brother you never had and you allowed yourself to act childish in his presence. He reminded you of your childhood in this town and running across the street with the other kids. So, when he’d drop hints of something else, you’d just brush it off. 

“Same room as always?” Your head peaks through the top of the stairs and you stare down at him as he struggles with your bag. 

“Actually, no. My mom is remodeling that one into a massage room.” You raise an eyebrow and he shrugs. “You can stay at the end of the corridor. It’s a little further from my room, but I’m sure you won’t mind.” He settles the suitcase at the top of the stairs and leads you in the direction you’re not accustomed to. 

“I sure don’t.” You assure him. “But I do wanna know where’s the illustrious Mrs. Harkness.” He lets out a chuckle at your nervous joke. 

“She went out to run some errands, but said she’d be back soon and bring us pizza for dinner.” He stops at the end of the corridor. At the front wall there’s a door and on its side another one. He opens up the one on the right. “Like I said, my mom is remodeling some stuff, so this is the closest room we have available on this floor. This door is her bedroom.” He points to the other entry and you try not to react. It would be fine. 

“Okay!” You exclaim and enter the enclosed space. The place was very similar to the one you were accustomed to, the only difference was spatially. 

It had a window, wardrobe, bed and bathroom like all the others you had visited at the residence, but this one was faced to the back of the house. A big window opened up to the backyard and you could see the glistening pool water reflecting the orange light of the sun set. Facing the window was the bed and, on its left side, the bathroom. 

Falling backwards, you bounce on the mattress and cover your eyes with the back of your elbow, all the adrenaline of the trip seems to leave your body at once. 

Your friend throws your bag by your side. “What the fuck did you bring? It feels like there’s 20 bricks in here.” 

“Stuff.” You reply passively, not moving a muscle.

He scoffs at you. “Okay, I can clearly tell you’re tired from your flight, so I’ll let you take a shower, put your ‘stuff’ away and I’ll call you when my mom arrives with our food. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, thank you!” You answer him gracefully and only take your arm away from your face when you hear the door close softly. 

Lazily you sit up on the comfortable surface, open up your suitcase and search for your shower essentials. You feel clammy and stinky after spending a few hours at the airport and on the plane, so a bath is the first thing on your mind. 

Finding a towel and adjusting the temperature is easy enough and in a few minutes you’re under the water pressure, tiredness mixes with anxiety and you slump against the wall. 

You feel an overwhelming excitement at seeing Nichola’s mother and while it feels like meeting your boyfriend’s mom, it is also a completely different feeling. You don’t care if she thinks you are good enough for her son, especially since you don’t have that kind of relationship with your friend, but you wanted it, craved even, that she liked you. 

Yeah, your childhood crush hadn’t passed.

You try not to let your thoughts eat you away by focusing on your routine and relaxing into the warm water. 

When you’re done, you get out of the shower and wrap yourself up in a towel. Brushing your wet hair, you look out of the window, the day passed and with it the sunlight. You hope your hair will dry before bed. 

You hear a soft knock and your friend’s voice. “Can I come in?”

“Gimme a second!” You scream back and hurriedly search your bag, grab a big shirt and pajama shorts. “Yes, come on in.” 

Your friend pokes his head into the room and stares at you. You must be quite a sight from the way his eyes rank over your body. Your hair is dripping, wetting your shirt, there’s a brush in your cream slicked hands and your shorts are hardly poking out from the shirt’s waistband. You don’t understand the appeal. 

“Yes, what is it?” You drawl out, taking him out of his trance. 

“Mom is home, brought us pizza.” He beams at you. “I told her you like pepperoni.” 

“And you are right as always, my friend.” You tell him in the worst southern accent someone has ever heard. 

He chuckles and you throw the brush on top of the bed, grab the towel to clean your hands and follow him out of the room. 

All your anxiety comes back as you go down the stairs, the smell of pizza fills the air and you hear movement in the kitchen. Entering the cooking area, you spot her right away. 

“Mom.” Nickie calls by your side. 

When she turns around, you feel trapped in a movie. It would be one of those scenes where a character is introduced and turns around in slow motion, with some random song in the back.

You try very hard not to gape at her. She is wearing a light brown loose suit accompanied by a white dress shirt underneath, her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows and on her feet you see expensive pointy black heels. Her hair is dark and matches her gold jewelry, she aged so well you feel like you’re one point away from falling to your knees in front of her.  

She opens up the biggest smile upon seeing you. 

“Oh hun, come here! Let me take a look at you.” She motions her hands towards herself and you timidly step into her arms. 

She places her hands on your forearms and slowly runs her eyes over your figure. You squirm under her intense gaze and uncomfortably think about your choice of clothes. You should have dressed up, she looks so elegant. 

She lets out a hum deep in her throat and you feel like a bug caught in a spider’s web when she looks into your eyes and smirks. 

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, dear. Nicholas spoke highly of you, but I must say his words don’t do you justice.” 

“Yeah? Wait until she opens her mouth.” Your friend says by your side and you shove him slightly. 

Agatha laughs at your antics and winks at you when you look back at her, making you blush. 

“Let's eat, shall we?” She claps her hands and brings them close to her chest, turns around and grabs the carbon box. 

Nicholas leads you into the dining table and you sit in front of him, on the left side of the head of the table, where Agatha settles down. You were starving, eating was the next thing on your mind after a shower and now that you are clean, you can enjoy the meal. Politely, you wait until Nicholas takes a slice and offers it to you, nodding eagerly, you extend your plate in his direction. 

You dive in and barely listen to the conversation they are having, that is, until you hear your name. 

“Yes?” You swallow hurriedly and feel the piece burning your throat as it slides down. 

“I was asking how college has been treating you, hun.” You gulp down the soda in front of you to smooth the pain. You are pleasantly surprised she knows something about you and is interested enough to ask.

“Oh, it’s been great! I really enjoy the course and the professors. It’s also a bonus that I moved out of my parents’ house.” You answer her excitedly. 

“I bet you are taking full advantage of that, right dear?” She says with a playful smile and scrunch in her face, before sipping her glass of wine. 

“Mom!” Nicholas exclaims by her side and you let out a nervous chuckle at the joke.

“I’m just kidding, honey.” She winks at him and waves her hands in the air in a dismissal movement. 

“I sure am, Mrs. Harkness.” You return the jab and she turns to look deep into your eyes, her mouth slowly grows into a grin. 

Distantly you hear your friend clean his throat and mumble “I didn’t need to know about that.” 

You slowly let go of her intense gaze to turn into your friend’s direction. 

“Don’t be a baby.” You throw your napkin across the table and he huffles in response.

After that, dinner doesn't last long. You patiently wait for Nicholas to finish what must be his fifth slice, before getting up and unspokenly offering yourself to clean up the dishes by grabbing the plates.  

You feel a light touch on your arm. “You don’t have to do that, dear. You must be tired from your flight, Nicholas will clean up for us.”

“I really don’t mind, Mrs. Harkness.” You feel her hand run lightly up to your elbow and you hold in your shudder. 

“Well, I insist.” Looking in your friend’s direction, he gives you a small smile and a nod. “And call me Agatha, hun.” 

Rapidly blinking, you turn to face her and are met with a smile. 

“Okay, humm…” Gently setting down the plates, you feel her hand slip from your arm. 

You hesitate and Mrs. Harkness encourages you. “Go on.” 

“Goodnight, then.” You practically run out of the room, stopping to glance back at them and give an awkward smile.

As much as you’d like to protest, Agatha is right. With a full belly, you feel your energy drain, your eyelids become heavy and you can only think about the big warm bed waiting for you. 

The worry of being a bad guest slips from your mind as soon as your head hits the pillow. 

─────── ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ───────

The detergent runs down your hands and into the drain. 

The window in front of the sink gives you a full view of the house’s backyard. The midday sun shines down into the grass, the pool glistens invitingly and a light breeze blows away a stuffy day.

Your night was uneventful, exhaustion seemed to take the best out of you and you woke up practically at lunch time. This time, though, you insisted on washing the dishes and wouldn’t take ‘no’ as an answer. 

You got carried away by your task a while ago and now your hands move in their own accord. The idea of spending a day under the sun brings a renewed energy into your body and you practically vibrate in anticipation. It’s been a while since you’ve been to a pool or the beach.  

You startled when your friend jumps to sit on the counter next to you.

“Jesus, Nicholas!” You exclaim loudly, stopping your sopped hand midway and preventing a wet shirt. 

He gives you a boyish smile and says. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine.” You murmur out. 

One second away from articulating your thoughts and suggesting your idea, you are interrupted by your friend.

“Should we spend the day outside?” He says and you look at him with big eyes and a wide grin. 

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” You exclaim. “I’m almost done here. You can go upstairs and change already.” 

“Okay, bossy.” He playfully jabs while hopping out of the counter. On his way out of the kitchen he tells you. “I’m going to ask my mom if she wants to join us.” 

Your whole body freezes. The image of Mrs. Harkness wearing only a bikini comes into your mind and leaves you lightheaded, when you look back at him, he’s already gone. Fuck. 

You rapidly finish the dishes and dry your hand on a towel, run upstairs into your room and close the door softly. 

Placing your suitcase in the bed, you sort through your clothes in an attempt to find your best bikini. Sprawling everything around and leaving a mess behind, you try to breathe and be reasonable. She wouldn’t be looking at you in the same way that you would look at her, there is no reason to be worried. Yeah, right. Just because she wasn't attracted to you didn't mean you didn't want her approval.

Pulling out your favorite red bikini, you let out a small commemorative sound. The two-piece consisted of a top adjustable sideways and held by two strings that made a bow on your nape. The bottom was very similar in style, the front covered you up and was held by little bows on the side that lead to a thong. 

You change into it and look at yourself in the mirror. The color complemented your skin tone and the shape matched your body type. You repeat to yourself: there is no need to be worried. 

Easier said than done. 

You distract yourself by going into the bathroom and grabbing the sunscreen, the last thing you needed was to overthink and start biting your nails. 

As you leave the bedroom, you follow the sound of someone in the kitchen and find Nicholas eating some kind of fruit. 

His back is turned and you take a moment to really look at him. He was tall and defined, with a boyish light nature that seemed to make life easier. His light brown hair matches his father’s, but, other than that, he was Agatha though and though. Just as attractive as her and definitely broke as many hearts as his mother did. Maybe in another life things would be different between you two. 

You shudder at the thought. Definitely not this one, though. 

You approach him and grab a strawberry, barely registering his gaze appreciating your body as you lean into the counter and try to casually ask. 

“What did your mother say?” You take a bite of the berry.

It takes a hot minute for him to take his eyes off of you and respond. “Said she’s happy to join us. She’s changing, but told us to go ahead if we want to.” 

“Let's go then!” You exclaim and rapidly grab your friend and the bowl of fruit. 

You open the glass door and a light breeze invades the house, you don’t stop to appreciate it. Afraid of fainting if you saw Nickie’s mother only in a bikini, you struggle to get into the pool before she comes down. 

Placing your towel and the sunscreen in one of the chairs, you ignore your friend sitting next to you and move into the pool stair. 

“Why are you acting crazy?” He asks with a frown while you step down into the water. 

“I’m not.” You reply and he lets out a hum. Fuck him for seeing right through your bullshit. “I’m just excited, that’s all.” 

You dive in. The pool is in the perfect temperature for the hotness of the day. It was mostly covered by the shadows of the trees, so, for now, you don’t have to worry about sunscreen. 

Resurfacing and pulling your body into the pool’s edge, you throw a bit of water into your friend and say. 

“Aren’t you coming in?” He nods and you add. “Bring the strawberries with you.” 

Resting your head in the water, you let your body float freely. Your hearing is muffled and you take a moment to breathe in the space and relax. Having Nickie’s mom around was making you more anxious than you were prepared for. 

You look up into the bright blue sky and observe the clouds. The day was so beautiful and your need for praise and validation was quickly increasing. There was nothing wrong with having a crush, but if it was affecting you this much, you needed to let it go for a while. 

Your arms flow by your side and you clean your mind.

Time seems to stop in this position and you feel your body ease up for the first time since your friend told you his mother would be around. You hear a commotion outside of the pool and remain with your eyes closed, enjoying the empty pool before Nicholas jumps in and disturbs your peace. 

That doesn’t last long. A few seconds later you feel drops of water splashing on your face. You look up from between wet lashes to find Nicholas with his feet partially inside the water and his mother by his side. He had been calling you. 

“Yeah?” Wiping the excessive water from your face, you stand up.

“Would you mind sharing your sunscreen?” He asks you. 

“Of course not.” You reply and change focus.

His mother looks even better than you’d imagine, if that’s even possible. She’s wearing a black two-piece and from afar you can see the lace covering the fabric. It fits her body perfectly, the top is similar to yours, but it isn’t sideways adjustable. The bottom, though, is very different, where your bikini is thin and revealing, hers has thick strands and you can see that it covers her butt a lot more than yours do. You were right in assuming you’d faint if you saw her outside of the pool. The image makes you dizzy.

“Enjoying the water, hun?” She tracks your body with her eyes and licks her lips. 

You follow the action and it takes a noticeable second for your brain to process the question.

“Yes, I am, Mrs…Agatha.” You correct yourself and blush, from the slip up and the delay. Your face gets even hotter when she smirks and you realize you’ve been caught staring at her. 

You just can’t help yourself. She sits down and spreads sunscreen on herself. This woman is a goddess you’d pray for until the day you die. Her belly is straight and defined, her boobs are small and compliment her body perfectly. When she turns around, asking Nicholas to help reach her back, you blatantly look at her ass. It was round and perky. You feel like a pervert, but that doesn’t change the fact that you wish it was you spreading sunscreen on her back.

God, if you had seen her anywhere else, you’d never guess she was more than 45 and had a son. 

She catches you staring for a second time and winks at you. You dive back into the water to hide your red cheeks.  

The afternoon runs smoothly. Nicholas joins you in the pool and you try to distract yourself by playing with him. If took a peak or two at his mother bathing in the sun, who could blame you?

It's around 4pm when your friend decides to go inside and grab more fruits. You had devoured the strawberries a long time ago and were now starving after splashing, fighting and swimming with him like a kid. The day had turned out as great as you had expected it to be. 

You rest your tired head against the edge and hear a faint sound. You feel Agatha walk behind you, all the way to the pool ladder and fight against opening your eyes to stare at her backside. 

It is the first time she joins you on the water and you hear Nicholas from inside in the kitchen. Your thoughts run free and as relaxed as you are, you get distracted by the image conjured up in your head of your friend picking up fruits and washing them. 

You get slightly startled when you feel a hand running through your hair ends. Opening your eyes, you breathe in and try not to take a step back. Somehow, in your relaxed state, Agatha has crept up on you and is now standing a foot away. Her eyes are focused on the way her fingers twiddle your tips and in this proximity, you feel how hot her body is from soaking in the sun all day. 

“I was trying to remember you as a kid.” She starts and looks up into your eyes. “You were the one with the pigtails, right?”

“Yeah.” You let out a laugh as you remember your signature hairstyle back then and add a nervous joke. “I’m all grown up now, though.” 

“Yes, I can see that.” She replies slowly, her gaze drifting to your breasts. 

Her hand leaves your hair and descends through the water until you feel a faint touch of fingers in your waist. She smirks, closing up the space between you two. The top of her bikini brushes against yours and pressed against the pool’s edge and her body, you panic when you hear the glass door open behind you. 

She laughs at your wide eyes and dips her head into the water. Thanking all the heavens and architects that built this house, you turn around in time to see Nicholas rounding the corner. 

“There you go.” He sits on the floor next to your sprawled arms and places the bowl in front of your face. 

Feeling your heartbeat on your throat, you shove a grape on your mouth to calm yourself down. 

“I think you should put on some sunscreen now. Your cheeks are really red.” You cough and blush even more, he runs his thumb through your face and you try not to flinch at the image he could have walked on. 

“I was actually about to get out and stay under the sun for a while, so I’ll definitely do that.” You push yourself out of the water and feel eyes on your backside as you place your knees on the floor before getting up. Like mother, like son.

“Aw, you are getting out already?” He asks you with pleading eyes and you ignore him as you place yourself in one of the chairs.

“Already? I’ve been in there for hours. Look at my fingers.” You raise your palm up to show the wrinkled digits.

“You do look like an old mop.” He tells you with a side smile, you can only roll your eyes and let out a sarcastic laugh. “Come on! My mom just got in, we can’t leave her inside the water by herself.” 

“Oh no, I’m not staying.” You both turn to look in her direction. “I just wanted to dip in to cool down. Grab me a towel, will you?” She tells her son with a flourish of hands. 

He picks one from the pile while she steps up the pool stairs. You close your eyes, it wouldn’t be good to stare at your friend's mother in his presence. 

They exchange a few words and Agatha goes inside. Nicholas sits by your side and relaxes into the lounge, mimicking your facing up position. The bowl is placed between you two and from time to time you brush your hands against his when grabbing a berry. 

The sun shines down and your body heats up. The droplets of water evaporate and you avoid thinking about your little moment in the pool, you had promised yourself you would stop getting anxious around the house. What if Nichola’s mother may or may not be interested in you? That doesn’t change anything. 

Yeah, right.

God, if Nicholas found out about this crush he’d be heartbroken. It’s been clear for a while that he has feelings for you that aren’t reciprocated.

He doesn't even know you are a lesbian.

“Tell me again, when will your classes start?” You ask and remain in the same position. A plan to let him down gently already formed in your mind.

“Same as yours.” He replies without looking at you. 

You hum. “Are you excited for college?” 

“I honestly am, which is unexpected.” He holds the conversation and you both remain with your eyes closed.

“Yeah.” You let out a small chuckle. “For a few years there I thought you had given up on the idea.” 

“I had. I was thinking of taking over my parents' company.”

“Oh yes, I forgot you are a nepo baby.” You interrupt him and snort when you feel a towel landing on your face.

“As I was saying. I might still do that, but I shouldn’t run the business just because I’m their son. I want the knowledge to back me up.” He looks into your eyes and you give him a small genuine smile.

“Well, I think that’s very mature of you. I’m sure moving out of your mother’s house will help you decide what you want.” Sometimes you forget the 2 year difference between you two. 

“Yeah.” He replies and pauses before adding. “Sorry about my mom’s comment yesterday.”

You frown and take a while to remember what he was talking about. The dormitory innuendo.

“It’s fine really, she’s right.” You laugh.

“She is?” He looks at you with big puppy eyes and you brace yourself for the blow.

“Yes. My roommate is cool about it and, more times than not, she thinks the girls I bring in are only friends.” You try to respond to it conversationally.

You look into his eyes and wait for a reaction, his brain doesn’t automatically catch up and he stares at you like you had grown a second head. As soon as it dawns on him you watch in slow motion as his eyes grow abnormally wide and his mouth hangs open. You were more worried about his feelings than a rejection, you know he’d never hurt you intentionally. 

“Oh.” He lets out in a breath. 

He seems to be stuck  in place as he takes in the information, so you decide to move for both of you. Grabbing a towel, you place yourself on your feet and get up from the chair. Stretching your arms up and letting out a small groan, you turn in his direction. 

Out of curiosity, you take a second to look at the house and search for your room’s window. It doesn’t take long to find, it’s the second last to the left and by its side a balcony leads to a spaced bedroom. Squinting your eyes against the sun, you try following the movement you see inside. It takes a while, but your eyes settle against the difference in clarity and you almost fall over. 

Your brain catches up with the fact that Agatha’s room is next to yours a little late and inside the space you observe as she slowly unties her bikini with her back turned to you. She passes her head through the top knot and stretches her head from one side to another, before smoothing her finger through the indents caused by the bikini. You register your friend calling you and answer without taking your eyes off of her.

“Yeah?” You hum and add. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” 

You start walking without waiting for a response. You can’t take your eyes off of the scene being displayed in front of you, wishing she would turn a little more in your direction. When she starts removing the bottom, you feel the ground under your feet evaporating. 

Literally.

One second you are walking along the pool’s edge and the next one you feel the breath leave your body as you collide hard against the ground. Your head swims and your left side hurts like a bitch, with your attention somewhere else you forgot the pool floor was wet and slipped on it, hitting your back and hip. 

You faintly hear your friend getting up and have difficulty breathing through the pain, the world seems to twirl in front of your eyes and at the back of your mind you hear Mrs. Harkness calling out for her son. 

“Did you hit your head?” Nicholas casts a shadow on you as he crouches down to inspect the situation. 

Your only response is a groan. 

Embarrassment doesn’t even cross your mind, the pain radiates all the way from your ass to your left shoulder and leaves you thoughtless. The only thing you can concentrate on is trying to help your lungs do their work. 

“Can you get up?” Your friend tries again. 

“Give me a second, will you?” You wheeze out. 

“She’s fine!” He turns his back and shouts. 

Dropping your head in the direction he’s facing, you see his mother’s face full of concern as she leans over the balcony with a towel on. 

Your friend helps you up and you put all your weight on him as you hop into the house.

You throw yourself in one of the kitchen’s chair and your friend grabs a cup of water and pain medication, unspokenly offering to you. 

Nicholas helps you all the way upstairs and into your room. When he leaves, you rapidly get under the water stream and wash out all the chlorine sticking to your body before exhaustion leaves you infunctional. 

Out of the shower, you take a moment to look at your back in the mirror, purple spots are already forming and you just know you’ll be sore for days.

You throw yourself in bed and immediately pass out, wet hair and naked. A day in the pool has drained all your energy and the medication seems to knock you out completely. 

Even as tired as you are, your sleep in conturbed. You turn around and rumble your bed, trying to find a comfortable position for your throbbing left side. 

When you wake up, you are completely disoriented, night has fallen over and your room is pitch black, the only light comes from the moon as your open window curtain is blown away by a light breeze. You search around in the dark for your phone, the bright light shines in your eyes and you squint to look at the time: 1AM. You throw your head back and groan, you had fucked up your sleep schedule and everyone else was probably already asleep. 

The feeling of an empty stomach gives you enough energy to get up and move to the kitchen. Ignoring the main light, you turn on a few lamps and lighter illuminations around the house, creating a cozy environment. You find a white box on top of the balcony and pop a pill into your hand, swallowing it down with a cup of cold water. The effect of the medication had passed during your afternoon nap. 

Opening up the fridge, you find the leftovers of last night's pizza. You settle in the counter and eat it straight from the box, don't even bother heating it up. You shove up three slices and, in the meantime, decide to watch a movie. Throwing the empty box on the trash, you go into the television room and settle yourself laying sideways, your right side resting against the sofa. 

You hear a faint sound of steps coming from upstairs and ignore it. Someone must be going to the bathroom. Deciding on a random channel, you relax into the couch, the ambience and light sound from the television helping with your pain. 

The medication must be really strong, because you doze off once more. You open your eyes slowly and take a second to realize what has woken you up. Someone’s fingers are brushing through your hair lightly and a voice calls out your name. 

Your vision settles on the image of your friend’s mother sitting by your side. She’s wearing a long black robe, its pattern has a mixture of purple and green and her hair is resting mainly on her right shoulder. You thank the darkness for hiding the blush covering your cheeks as she looks down at you and asks. 

“How are you feeling, hun?” 

“Better. I just took another pill.” You whisper.  

“Do you mind if I take a look at your back?” Her fingers move from your hair and settle themselves lightly in your left rib. 

You shake your head and lay more into the sofa. A shiver runs down your body as she slides the thin material of your silk pajama blouse and brushes her hands through, what you assume, is the purple blooming on your skin.  

“Oh.” She lets out. 

“Is it that bad?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Yes, but I’ve got just the stuff for it.” She tells you and gets up, disappearing into the house. 

You frown at her ways and focus on the television while waiting. Nicholas was probably asleep and wouldn’t wake up until tomorrow, being alone with his mom made you nervous beyond words, especially after earlier. You had no idea if she was only pushing your buttons, because she noticed you had a crush on her or if she was actually interested. 

The teasing made the thoughts of her having been with a woman cross your mind again. You could imagine, she traveled a lot, her husband was never around and she didn’t seem to have an interest in him anymore. It would be so easy for her to fall in bed with a woman on one of her trips.

You hear her bare feet walk into the living room and look up to catch a smile on her face.

“Come one, turn over for me.” Her choice of words makes you obey without a second thought. 

You cross your arms in front of your face and rest your forehead against them. You feel her presence behind you. Your back is turned to her and this time she doesn’t ask for permission before lifting up your shirt. Her nails run through your skin, following the movement.

“Nicholas has probably mentioned to you that I’m turning the upstairs room into a massage space.” You hear the lid of a bottle opening, before feeling something cold against your back. “Actually, dear. You should remove this.” She grabs your pajama top and you lift your head without a word.

Your bare breasts rests against the cushions and your head swirls. 

She hums before spreading the lubricant around, it brings a nice sensation to your heating skin. Inspecting the damage, she concentrates the oil mainly on your left side. 

Her movements are light until they aren’t, she puts pressure at the purple spots and you groan, pain blooming from your back and making you arch your chest into the couch, trying to avoid her feeling. She holds onto your waist to stop the motion, her hands are slick and placed much lower than normally appropriated. 

“Come on, this will be good for you.” She whispers close to your ear and her hair tickles your back. 

Like a child waiting for praise, you relax into her touch.

She continues the torturous massage and you can only let out painful moans that seem to sputter her on. Her fingers focus firstly on your shoulders, the reason for removing the shirt apparent now as her fingers circle around the muscle and ease up the tension. This part doesn’t hurt as much and you’re able to appreciate it when her fingers work on the tired knots. The tension starts leaving your body and from time to time you let out timid groans of appreciation.

The oil heats up against your back and her hands press down into your ribs. Her hands circle your body and her thumbs work hard on liberating the coagulated blood under the skin. The burning sensation brought by the lubrication helps with the pain and the way she aggressively grabs onto you leaves traces behind, you feel your hard nipples brushing against the sofa. 

“Oh, honey. This is worse than I thought.” She tells you as her hands cascade into the worst part. 

You fell ass first and most of the impact has been on the area. She runs her digits on the lower side of your back, brushing from time to time against the thin material covering your bottom. This part is more painful, but you face it up like a big girl. The bone causes a harder surface and she incessantly moves. You hiss through clenched teeth and pray she will be over soon. The pain is worse than in the other parts and the massage seems to stretch for an absurd amount of time, in agony you can’t even appreciate the fact that Agatha Harkness has her hands on you. 

She finally stops and you relax into the couch. The silence hangs around you and you wait for her to get up and go back to sleep.

“Do you mind if I take this off?” She asks, stretching the waistband of your shorts before letting it go. 

You blink rapidly and freeze. The question catches you off guard and you don’t have an automatic reaction. 

“I’m not wearing underwear.” You whisper shyly. 

“Not a problem, hun.” Somehow you can hear the grin on her voice. 

Before you can move, she’s already running the fabric down your legs. Changing your body’s weight into your forearms, you help her by lifting your behind. 

“Wait. Stay like this.” Your brain short circuits at the demand. 

You are practically doggie style and your naked center is squeezed by your thigh in a pitiful attempt to hide it from her. You feel her moving behind you before placing a pillow under your hip.

“There we go. Are you comfortable?” She asks you without reservations. 

You inspect the position you’re in. A large bolster props your uncovered ass up, your back is partially arched, following the weight deposited in your arms. Your hair is in a bun and your skin is covered in oil. Your nipples are hard rock and your breasts are begging for attention. You feel wetness in your lower lips. 

Biting your lips, you nod.

“Great.” She lightly claps behind you.

You feel the couch dip by your side and tense up as she straddles the upturned side of your legs. Her thighs are pressed against yours and her weight doesn’t bother you. You estimate your ass is leveled with her ribs. If she got on her knees, she could be fucking you from behind. 

Oh god, honestly the worst thought you could have when your cunt is practically in her face. 

Her body shifts as she picks up the bottle on the table, a light texture is poured on top of your rear and you feel it run down your legs. She places the bottle back down and grabs a fistfull of your ass, you let out an involuntary moan and hear a malicious chuckle behind you.

“Enjoying yourself?” She teases you.

Your cheeks heat up at the joke and you don’t respond, your voice seems to have escaped you. 

Her hands wander around and squeeze, you have the vague impression that she’s feeling you up instead of actually doing a massage. The palpation worsens your current aroused situation and you try to close your legs as much as possible without her notice. She focuses all of her attention where the purple is mostly concentrated, her fingers are firm and direct, this time though, the pain mixes with pleasure and you grab hard into the sofa in an attempt to hide your needy moans. Her hands graze your center a few times and everytime it happens, you buck into it. 

You feel like a bitch in heat. 

The wetness between your legs seems to gather unstoppable and you are barely able to contain your sounds. You’ve never felt this aroused in your life. 

You faintly register Agatha calling out for you. 

“Yes?” You hoarsely let out, previously unnoticed drools run down your chin and your eyes are shut closed. 

“You are making a mess of my hand, hun.” You blush so furiously a salmon would be jealous of you. 

You register the wetness of your center sticking in your thighs and joining the oil she was using. You are left speechless for what feels like the 100th time in her presence. Her hands move up through the outside of your legs before harshly grabbing your hip and bringing it close to her own center. She leans over the curve of your back to whisper in your ear.

“Let mommy take care of you.”

You moan aloud at the name.

You feel her breath ghost against your cheek as she laughs at you. Her nails run down your ass and brush your center, ignoring it. You knew in your state it wouldn’t take much for you to come, but, unfortunately for you, Agatha’s number 1 hobby seemed to be teasing.

She pulls back and focuses her attention on your backside, while her white acrylics run from your knees all the way up, her mouth works on scratching her teeth through your right ass cheek. 

Her palm carefully grope your purple spot and you let out a small yelp at the harsh bite she delivers on your good cheek. She kisses it better and shows the same light appreciation to your hurt side. 

Her lips leave your skin as she manhandles you. The grip on your hip pushes your ass higher and you rise up on your elbows. If you were playing about having your center in her face before, you definitely weren’t laughing now. 

“Oh, dear. You are drenched.” On her knees, she parts your folds with her fingers and you lean against her. She runs her digits down and easily finds you clit, pressing it lightly and causing a restrained whine to escape you. 

“Don’t do that. I want to hear all your pretty sounds.” She tells you in an almost sing-song voice, but you know she's not asking. 

Obeying as she applies more pressure, you let out a free moan. Your face burns and you pant against the couch’s armrest. The oil on your skin seems to be some kind of special brand as it burns you up, your nape feels sticky as sweat starts to leave your body and you can’t focus on anything else besides the pleasure Agatha is giving you. 

Your head swims when you feel her digits run up your slit and enter you. She pauses inside and you thrust back, whining from the delay. She seems to find amusement in your torture and laughs before slowly moving her digits. 

She takes pleasure in watching you bend yourself to chase her finger and holds into your waist to contain part of your harsh movement. She teases you by letting her finger plunge in the slowest motion possible. 

Even with the leisure pace you feel your pleasure building brick by brick. It’s a new sensation to have your orgasm sluggish reach you and, as good as it feels, it’s also not nearly enough to drive you over the edge. You moan, whine and trash against the sofa.

“Agatha, please!” That’s just about what your brain is able to formulate in your aroused muffled head. 

“Such a pretty girl using her words.” The praise only seems to worsen your condition and you let out a frustrated cry at the light way her fingers keep moving. 

The sound has an effect, though. She applies pressure and curls her fingers, hitting just the right spot to make you sob. She sets a forceful rhythm by using her hips as leverage, enough to make you hit your head against the couch headboard and hold onto it for dear life. 

Your moans come out uncontrollably and you barely register, you could be screaming at the top of your lungs and you wouldn’t know. The pleasure comes in waves, your back undulates against her firm grip and your nails scratch at the fabric under your fingers. It’s so much and not enough at the same time. You try to voice your thoughts, but only a groan leaves your mouth.  

“Yes, I know.” She smoothes you and gently takes your hair from your face, contrasting her other actions.

She does seem to know, because a few seconds later her hand joins the other one in your center, her movement is continuous and it takes a second for her to find your clit. When she touches it and applies pressure your vision turns black. You’d be worried about your temporary blindness if the circular motions on your clit, coupled up with her finger hitting the perfect spot inside you and her nails leaving a delicious stinging behind, hadn’t made you double over as your climax finally hit you. 

You’re sure this is the longest time you’ve spent coming in your life. The waves seem to crash into another as Agatha keeps entering you and drawing out the pleasure. Her pace doesn’t slow down and when you think it’ll be over it starts for a second time. Your head in thoughtless, you had literally been fucked stupid and was pretty sure that somewhere your mind couldn’t reach, you heard yourself moaning like a bitch. 

After what felt like minutes, your body completely slumps down into the couch. Your breath is coming out in harsh puffs and you don’t even feel the pain of the fall anymore. Someone brushes fingers through your scalp and you look up to catch Agatha’s dirty smile. 

Her robe is rumpled and open, you barely have time to appreciatively run your eyes down her naked figure before hearing. 

“Mom?” 

Fuck. 

[monkeyprinx]

ALNST X DRV3 CROSSOVER

I've been thinking about an au where v3 killing game happens as an alien stage song battle tournament. This is a separate thing, however, something I've came up with and sketched as a warm-up before the main thing

Here are all the designs and inspirations:

ADDITIONAL SKETCHES

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Thanks Daddy

~ flirting keeps your relationship alive, as does finding out new things about your partner

joe burrow x gf!reader

TW: 18+ MDNI | language, pick-up lines, mentions of sex, daddy kink, car sex, cheeky!Joe

“Thank You TikTok” | Main Masterlist

… ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..

~inspired by this post/ask. why does that gif make me nervous🫠

[rubysunnday]

send it soaring

summary: a hot air balloon was something quite majestic... but so was benedict bridgerton

a/n: look at me writing fics! if you want to know what scene inspired this whole fic look no further.

"Isn't it marvellous!" Belinda crowed, tugging on her older sisters hand excitedly.

Y/N Byrne couldn't help but smile at her sister. "It is, Betty," she said, twirling her around in a circle.

Y/N had been a bit bewildered when her sister had insisted on attending the Hawkins Balloon fayre. Belinda was never normally interested in such things - she much preferred spending time in the toy shop within Fortnum & Mason's. But the hot air balloon had captured everyone's imagination.

The Vauxhall Gardens were littered with brightly coloured tents. Some had small flags fluttering from the main tent pole whilst others had hand-made bunting strung along the front. Each one contained different things - sweet treats, hot drinks or sheltered seating from the wind.

A dark blue and white striped tent with light blue bunting across the front housed the exhibitions that Mr Hawkins had brought with him to demonstrate how his hot air balloon would work. Hand drawn blueprints were pinned to a board and there were several model balloons sat on plinths around the tent.

Y/N looked around in awe as Belinda continued to tug on her hand, urging her forward and toward the balloon sat in the centre of the field. As her eyes wandered around the grounds, she caught a glimpse of someone she had hoped would be in attendance.

Benedict Bridgerton stood by a stall selling jars of sweets, dressed in a dark blue jacket and light blue floral waistcoat. Y/N's gaze did not leave him, even as Belinda almost guided her directly into a metal pole. Seemingly sensing he was being watched, Benedict turned, his eyes searching the crowd.

For a second, Y/N and Benedict locked eyes. The world seemed to slow, and everything went silent.

"Oh, look, macarons!" Belinda cried, abruptly tugging on Y/N's hand and snapping her out of her daze.

Y/N stumbled forward and inside the pink and white striped tent that housed cakes and deserts of different shapes and sizes. A sign outside named the tent as Ms. Plaskitt’s Sweet Treats.Belinda immediately moved toward a plate of delicate pink macarons and plopped one into her mouth with a happy moan.

She picked another one off the tray. “These are delicious,” Belinda said, her mouth full of macaron.

“If mother was here, she would be crucifying you,” Y/N told her sister. She reached out and took a chocolate macaron from a nearby tray.

“Luckily, mama is not here,” Belinda replied, beaming with delight as she took yet another macaron. Belinda glanced over her shoulder and then turned sharply on her heel. “Oh, Gregory! Come here, they have strawberry macaron’s!”

Belinda frantically waved her hand at Gregory Bridgerton, urging the boy over to the tent. Gregory glanced over his shoulder and, seeing his mother and other siblings occupied, darted across the field and into the tent.

“Gregory, your mother will worry,” Y/N stepped back as he all but shoved past her to reach the trays of macarons, “where you’ve gone.”

“She won’t,” came Gregory’s muffled reply.

“No, she won’t – but only because I told her where you had gone.”

Y/N turned. Benedict stood in the doorway of the tent, arms crossed, eyebrows raised at his brother. From this distance, Y/N could see that the flowers on his waistcoat were tulips and lily of the valley, all dark blue against light, almost silver, blue material. He stepped closer, coming to stand beside her. A gust of wind blew through the tent, and she caught a whiff of his cologne – lavender and citrus.

A scent that suited him perfectly, Y/N decided.

Gregory pouted. “I only wanted a macaron.”

“You also only wanted to ‘glimpse’ the balloon,” Benedict retorted, “but look what happened there.”

Gregory glanced down at his sling. Belinda’s eyes widened as she noticed it for the first time. “Gregory, what did you do?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled, picking up a macaron and swiftly leaving the tent.

“But I do!” Belinda crowed, chasing after him.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “I fear Belinda has developed a small crush on Gregory.”

“If it helps,” Benedict replied, shoulders moving up and down as he chuckled, “he has one too.”

They looked at one another for a moment. Benedict’s light-grey eyes stared into hers. Y/N felt as if she was being lured in. Something was tugging her forward and toward him and, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, the sensation kept getting stronger every time they met.

She’d first seen him four years ago at a ball. He’d offered to grab her a glass of lemonade from the table, and they had spent the rest of the night in each other’s company, hiding along the wall.

By now, Y/N had been out for almost five years and spinsterhood was fast approaching in the eyes of the ton. After the first year, her mother’s attention had waned and Y/N soon found herself glued to the walls, waiting and hoping.

Whilst the season had become more enjoyable with less people watching her every move, Y/N felt as if she had been cast aside. She had danced with everyone and anyone, but none had made offers of proposal – which she didn’t mind. Well, maybe she did a little.

It was hard, watching everyone she’d debuted with making matches and getting married. Some had even had children by now, the eldest ones turning five that winter. But there had been some comfort, knowing Benedict had yet to also meet his match.

Yet, it was different for him. He could sleep with anyone, kiss anyone and no one batted an eye. He had done it all and Y/N couldn’t help but be envious. Love wasn’t everything and neither was marriage. Everyone did things in different ways and at different ages. But to be almost three – and – twenty and to still be awaiting a first kiss…

Well, Y/N was beginning to feel lonely.

“You look deep in thought,” Benedict said softly.

Y/N inhaled sharply and blinked; her eyes dry. “Sorry,” she replied. “It has been a… well, I was going to say long day, but it is currently only one in the afternoon.”

Benedict chuckled and Y/N’s stomach swooped. He smiled the crooked smile she loved so much and, suddenly, she realised that there was only one person she wanted to settle with.

Perhaps Benedict Bridgerton was the entire reason she had gone so long with no proposals. Perhaps, fate had destined them to be together.

Fate is a fool, Y/N thought to herself. Why would Benedict choose me? No one else wants me, why would a Bridgerton?

“Miss Byrne, are you well?” Benedict asked.

Y/N’s eyes shot up. “Sorry,” she said again. “I am… not really with it today.”

“Do you need someone to escort you home?”

Yes.

“No,” Y/N replied, forcing herself to smile, even if it didn’t reach her eyes. “I should really go find my sister.”

Concern didn’t leave Benedict’s eyes, but he nodded nonetheless, stepping to the side to let Y/N past. Y/N’s hand brushed his as she did. She clenched it into her fist, willing her insides to stop tangling themselves in knots.

Belinda hadn’t gone far. She was dancing around the maypole with Gregory and Hyacinth. Deciding that her sister would be fine by herself, Y/N left the small fayre, walking past the tents and up onto the main path through Vauxhall Gardens. A wooden bench sat alongside the path, overlooking the green. Y/N sat down, pulling her dark green silk shawl tighter around her shoulders as the wind picked up once again.

She hated herself for loving Benedict. Y/N knew it could never extend to anything more than friendship. He was a Bridgerton, he could have anyone he wanted in a heartbeat and that certainly wasn’t going to be her. Even if romance did blossom between them, Y/N wasn’t entirely sure she was willing to risk the friendship she had with Benedict, for it.

His family treated her as one of their own. Every ball, every event, they would seek her out and they would talk to her and keep her company. Her own mother had stopped doing that long ago, afraid that she would be caught in Y/N’s wallflower turned spinsterhood.

Was Y/N truly willing to risk all that for love?

Not that there is any love between us, Y/N thought.

Desperate to get out of her head, Y/N glanced up at the fayre. The wind had gotten stronger and was knocking the balloon about, forcing it side to side. Even from where she sat, a fair distance away, Y/N could see how much it was saying in the wind. It’s basket kept moving, bouncing around the wooden dais it had been carefully placed on. It tugged on the ropes keeping it tethered to the ground and the workers had to keep dodging the basket as it moved.

A sudden sense of doom began to grow inside her stomach. She couldn’t quite explain why but, historically, things never tended to go well within Vauxhall Gardens.

Y/N stood up and quickly began making her way across the grass and down to the fayre. If something was going to go wrong, she didn’t want Belinda to be on her own and potential end up in trouble.

As she rejoined the fayre, no one else seemed to have noticed the stronger winds and the dangerously swaying balloon. Two workers were holding down two of the main ropes, keeping them taut in an attempt to control the balloon.

“Belinda!” Y/N called, hurrying over to her younger sisters side.

Belinda turned abruptly, hand grasping a miniature hot air balloon. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Y/N said, trying to school her face into calm composure. “I turned and you had gone from the maypole.”

“Oh,” Belinda glanced behind her, eyes narrowing as she looked at Gregory talking with another girl. “It got boring,” she replied, turning back to her sister.

Y/N felt her heart ache at the disappointment in Belinda’s eyes. “If you are okay – ”

“Which I am –”

“ – then I am going to go for a wander,” Y/N finished.

Belinda batted her off, turning back to the miniature hot air balloons. Y/N stepped away but didn’t stray far from her sister. The balloon was still swaying, despite the workers best efforts. One had managed to tie a rope down, hammering the metal peg into the ground by the corner of a tent. The tension on it was evident as the balloon pulled against it.

Y/N wasn’t happy. The balloon wasn’t secure by any means and whilst the balloon and basket itself weren’t dangerous, the ropes were. If one with enough tension snapped or came loose, it could hurt anyone standing near it. It happened often enough on merchant ships.

Her gaze left the balloon. She scanned the tents, eventually finding Benedict. His back was to her, but she knew it was him. Next to him stood a blonde-haired woman, perfectly dressed and immaculate. Benedict leant back and laughed. The woman turned slightly, and Y/N caught sight of her face. She was beautiful.

Of course, she thought. She’s perfect.

She was sulking now, Y/N knew that. But it stung. Knowing Benedict was just out of her reach and would forever remain that way. They were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

God, I wish we were.

“Watch out!”

One of the workers was waving his hands frantically. People gasped in shock, darting back as one by one the ropes snapped away from the pegs. Those with high tension on them whipped back and forth, barely avoiding a group of gentlemen standing nearby.

Y/N glanced around for Belinda. She was stood safely away from the chaos along with Gregory and Hyacinth. Y/N breathed out, grateful that her sister was away from danger.

However, Y/N wasn’t.

She had been so focused on Belinda and making sure she was safe that she didn’t even notice the rope tethered behind her snap. Someone yelled at a warning, but Y/N didn’t register it in time. The rope slithered away at a rapid pace and whipped toward her.

One moment Y/N was staring at the flying rope and the next her back was hitting the green grass. She heard the rope whip past, hitting the fabric of the tent above her head.

“You can open your eyes,” a familiar voice said. “I’ve got you.”

Y/N breathed out shakily and slowly opened her eyes. Lying on top of her, one hand by her head, the other on her shoulder was Benedict. He was breathing hard, as if he had just run a fair distance in a short amount of time.

Which, she supposed, he had, since the last time she’d seen him, he had been in the centre of a tent, woman on his arm. But now, here he was, lying on top of her, his hand still resting against her arm, his other trapped underneath her.

“It’s over,” Benedict said softly, his hand unconsciously stroking her hair back from her face. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

Y/N looked up at him. Up close, she could see his eyes had hints of green in them and there were small crinkles at the corners of his eyes. She had never been this close to him before. She wanted to freeze the moment. She wanted to relish it.

But people were staring at them.

“So, you have,” Y/N whispered, her fingers brushing lightly against his cheek.

Her words seemed to break Benedict out of his revery. He pushed himself up with one hand, his other moving to her elbow so that he could help her up. Even once they were both standing, Benedict’s hand remained on her elbow. His thumb gently caressed her upper arm, the sensation raising goosebumps along Y/N’s skin.

Y/N looked into his eyes and the world did seem to stop. His eyebrows were furrowed ever so slightly with concern and in his eyes was the tiniest amount of fear. She had never seen him so worried before.

“I’m fine,” she said softly, reaching up and squeezing his arm once. “I promise.”

What she really wanted to do was reach up higher and rest her hand on the back of his neck, gently stroking the edge of his hair with her thumb. She wanted to hug him tightly and breathe in his cologne until it was all she could smell.

But people were still staring at them.

Reluctantly, Y/N let go of his arm. She stepped back, creating a small amount of space between them. Benedict kept his hand on her elbow until he couldn’t reach any more. He let his arm fall back to his side, flexing his hand.

The spell seemed to have broken. People began to swarm them, asking Y/N if she was okay and congratulating Benedict and his brother, Colin, on saving the day. Soon, Y/N was gradually pushed out of the circle until she found herself on the outside, blocked by the women of the ton.

Y/N sighed softly A hand grasped hers and she looked to her right. Belinda stood by her side, glaring at the women. For a thirteen – year – old she looked very annoyed.

“Let’s go home,” Belinda said, tugging Y/N’s hand gently. “Come on.”

Y/N turned and let her younger sister pull her away from the crowd and from Benedict. She didn’t look back. Though, if she had, she might have seen Benedict trying to fight through the crowds to reach her.

That next morning, Y/N sat in the living room, quietly working on her cross stich as her mother discussed the plans for her annual ball. Belinda was upstairs with her governess and her father had disappeared off to White’s at the first chance.

“What do you think of a masquerade theme?” Vivian, Y/N’s mother, said, raising her voice so that Y/N could hear her from the other end of the room.

Y/N poked her needle up through the fabric. “Is that not copying Dowager Lady Bridgerton’s annual ball?”

Vivian pursed her lips. “There can be more than one masquerade ball, Y/N.”

Y/N sighed quietly. Her mother was impossible at times. “What about a Venetian themed ball?” She asked, pulling her needle up.

“Perhaps. I shall ask Lady Cowper when I next see her.” Her mother stood up, setting aside her notebook. “Mrs Hadley, do you have a moment? I wish to discuss our annual ball with you.”

Y/N watched her mother leave the room, listening as her footsteps grew quieter. The moment she could hear them no longer, Y/N slouched back against the sofa and groaned.

“That was not the reaction I had hoped for.”

Y/N jumped, almost throwing her cross stitch at the intruder. She stood up abruptly and stared at the doorway, her eyes wide. Benedict Bridgerton was standing in her living room doorway, dressed in a dark blue jacket, golden yellow waistcoat and red cravat.

Benedict gave her an apologetic smile. “My apologies, your butler said to come straight up.”

Y/N cleared her throat. “Uh, yes he’s, uh, he’s not the best at his job…”

Benedict glanced around the room. “Are you alone?”

“My mother was here,” Y/N replied quietly. “She left.”

Y/N tried not to cringe. He could see that she had left, there was no need for her to state it aloud.

“Would you like me to come back later?” Benedict asked, pointing his thumb behind him.

“No!” Y/N exclaimed, just a bit too loudly and a bit too quickly. “No,” she said again, calmer this time. “What can I do for you, Mr Bridgerton?”

Benedict stepped into the room. “I wanted to check on you. You left very quickly yesterday.”

“Well,” Y/N said, “there wasn’t much reason for me to stay.” Y/N put her hands behind her back, mainly so Benedict couldn’t see her wringing her hands and twisting her fingers.

“I wanted to apologise, too.”

Y/N frowned. “Whatever for?”

“Tackling you to the ground.”

“Benedict, you saved me from a flying rope,” Y/N told him, oblivious to the fact she had just called him by his first name for the first time. “You do not need to apologise for reacting as quickly as you did.” She paused, noticing how a smile as gradually growing on his face. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“You called me Benedict,” he told her.

Y/N froze. “I don’t think I did,” she replied.

Benedict took a step forward. “I think you did. In fact, I know you did… Y/N.”

Hearing him say her name sent a shiver through her body. She had heard him say her surname dozens of times but nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to hearing Benedict say her first name.

It was rare that anyone’s first name was used in polite company. Unless you were a younger sibling or were being presented for the first time, it was surnames only.

“Did I say something wrong?” Benedict asked, moving even closer. There were only a few inches of space between them now. If Y/N reached out, she was certain that she could brush her hand against his sleeve.

“You know you did,” Y/N whispered, her voice hoarse. “Benedict, we cannot… this is not appropriate.”

Benedict crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side. “Is it not?”

“No, it is not.”

Y/N breathed in deeply as Benedict stretched his arm out, the back of his hand brushing against hers. Some many emotions were running through her. Why was he acting like this with her. Why was he even here?

They were just friends.

“We cannot,” Y/N said again. “We are unchaperoned, if anyone walks in on us in this position, the scandal it would cause…”

“Perhaps I am willing to risk a scandal,” Benedict replied, lowering his voice.

Y/n couldn’t take it anymore. She stepped away from Benedict, moving away from the sofa and toward the window. Her breathing was heavy, and her hands were shaking slightly.

This was absurd. Completely and utterly absurd.

Hurt appeared in Benedict’s eyes. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished. He cleared his throat, taking a step back. “I apologise, Miss Byrne, I do not know what came across me.”

“Why?” Y/N asked, her words so quiet they almost didn’t come out.

Benedict frowned. “Why what?”

“Why are you doing this?” Y/N asked, waving a hand at him. “Why did you save me yesterday when we both know I was nowhere near being hit by that rope. Why did you even come here today?”

“Do you really not know?”

“If I did, Mr Bridgerton, I would not be asking,” Y/N told him.

For a moment, Benedict just looked at her. They were only separated by a sofa, but it felt as if a gaping chasm had opened between them. Something had shifted and, even before Benedict began to speak, Y/N had a feeling that there would be no going back.

“I came here today,” Benedict began, “because I was concerned for your wellbeing. I saved you yesterday because I could not stand to see you in harm’s way, even if you were safe.”

Benedict took a deep breath in, raising his chin slightly. He walked forward, crossing the chasm between them. Y/N took a step back as he came to a stop in front of her, the toes of his shoes almost touching hers.

“I am doing this,” Benedict said, taking her ungloved hand in his, “because I love you, Y/N Byrne. I have done for some time now; I just lacked the confidence to enact upon it until recently. Even then, it was not until yesterday that I realised just how much I love you.”

Y/N felt as if her breath had been stolen from her. Someone had just reached in and pulled all the air out of her lungs. She stared at Benedict. His mouth was moving but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Then, his brow furrowed, and his eyes filled with concern. Y/N felt a hand on her elbow and the warm touch of Benedict’s skin on hers snapped her back to reality.

“Y/N, breathe,” Benedict said softly, squeezing her arm. “Hey, look at me.”

“I am,” Y/N said, slightly breathlessly. She took a few deep breaths in, trying to fill her lungs with air again.

A smile appeared on Benedict’s face. “Was my confession honestly that breathtaking?”

“Evidently,” Y/N replied. She let out a slightly breathy laugh. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Benedict told her, his hand still on her arm. “This has done wonders for my confidence.”

Y/N let out a sudden burst of laughter. “I think you might have broken me,” she said afterwards, a bewildered look on his face.

“Is it really that surprising?”

“Well, yes.” Y/N looked at him. “I made my debut almost five years ago. I’m nearly three – and – twenty and not once has a man ever shown the slightest bit of interest in me. You, Mr Bridgerton, are one of the most eligible men in London… why would I ever think you would be interested in me? I’m not really anything.”

“Don’t say that” Benedict scolded her gently. His hand moved down her arm, brushing against her skin, until he reached her hand. Gently, he threaded his fingers through hers. “You are the most interesting woman in the ton. There is more to you than all the debutantes put together, Y/N.”

“So, I’m not like other women?” Y/N asked, raising her eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Benedict groaned. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Have I just ruined the moment?”

“A little.”

He opened his eyes, squinting at her. “Do I get a do over?”

Y/N nodded. “If you insist.”

She was teasing him, of course. Nothing that he said in that moment could dissuade her from him. He had caught her hook, line and sinker and Y/N knew there was no going back. She was his, body and soul.

Benedict took her other hand. “You, Y/N Byrne, have captured my heart. I can walk into any room and sense your presence before I even see you. I would gladly take on any pain, any burden for you. To know how close you had been to being injured yesterday -”

“I was nowhere near the rope –”

“Will you let me finish?” Benedict asked.

Y/N pressed her lips together, trying to hide her smile. She nodded her head, letting Benedict resume.

“The mere idea of not having you in my life anymore is an unthinkable thought. No matter how hard I have tried to find someone, anyone, to settle down with, no one felt right.”

Y/N looked at him, staring directly into his eyes. “And I do?”

He nodded. “More than I can ever put into words. It is as if you complete my soul.”

Slowly, Y/N smiled. She reached up and put a hand to the back of Benedict’s neck, rubbing the pad of her thumb along the skin behind his ear. Benedict leant into her hand, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Perhaps we’re the final pieces of each other’s jigsaw’s,” Y/N said softly. “Everything has finally fallen into place.”

“Not quite yet,” Benedict replied.

He leant forward and pressed his lips to Y/N’s. She was taken aback for just a second. Then, her eyes closed, and she pressed her lips to Benedict’s. His breath tickled her cheeks, and she could feel his hands against her waist.

Warmth was beginning to spread out from her heart and down her legs. Lavender and citrus were all she could smell as Benedict pressed himself against her, his lips soft and gentle against hers. There was desire burning up between them but no urgency. They both knew that they had all the time in the world.

[haztobegood]

Yesterday I made a list of some of my favorite Liam fics for the 28th. There were so many good fics that I had to split this into two parts. Here are more of my favorites featuring Liam.

🦖 A Way So Familiar by yeah_alright @uhoh-but-yeah-alright (T, 2k, Liam/Zayn, established relationship, fluff)

Liam squeezes Zayn’s hand and presses a light kiss to his fingers. He freezes when Zayn stirs, worried he’s woken him. He’s not ready to wake him. He’s enjoying being held as he wades through the memories of that first night he'd held Zayn. Held him so properly and thoroughly that he had fallen asleep still holding him tightly. That night of pizza and beer and unadulterated flirting, when their playfulness had taken on a greater significance. It had felt revelatory. Like it was all finally – fucking finally – happening. --- Liam wakes up in Zayn’s arms and reminisces about some of their “firsts.”

🦖 Highway to the Danger Zone by phdmama @phdmama (E, 2k, trucker!Liam, masturbation)

It’s not easy, the life of a long-distance trucker, but Liam wouldn’t change it for the world. The money’s decent, he’s got his own rig (courtesy of a buddy who’d moved to New Zealand), he’s in charge of his own destiny, and he gets to listen to all the weird podcasts he wants to. He’s also gotten to see some truly amazing things. Sunsets over the mountains. Bison in Montana and moose in Maine. Bald eagles and double rainbows. Beautiful sights, at times even awe-inspiring, but they pale in comparison to the car driving next to him.

🦖 Kill My Mind? by musiclily88 @musiclily (NR, 2k, Liam/Louis, superhero, supervillain)

The superhero and supervillain have, like, a LOT of friends in common, and at this point, it's starting to get annoying.

🦖 From the Depths by FallingLikeThis @fallinglikethis (T, 3k, Liam&Niall, hurt/comfort)

When a new resident moves to town, the creature in the lake is curious. They both may be just what the other needs.

🦖 just the thought of you by disgruntledkittenface @disgruntledkittenface (M, 3k, Liam/Harry, genderswapped, firefighter!Liam)

Harry's been pining after her neighbor for two years. It only takes a small kitchen fire for her to make a move.

🦖 This Time by YesIsAWorld @louandhazaf (E, 4k, Liam/Harry, friends to lovers, rebound sex)

When Harry shows up at Liam door, upset that his relationship has ended, Liam finally gets his chance to act on the crush he's harbored for ages.

🦖 I Heard You Asked About Me by cherrylarry @beelou (T, 5k, Liam/Louis or Liam/Zayn, ice cream)

He comes to a stop in the middle of a residential street, the jingle calling the children over. Surprisingly, there's not just little kids that come running, there's teenagers and some adults as well, probably for nostalgia. Liam gets it. If he wasn’t the one driving the truck, he’d probably be standing in line and waiting to buy some for himself. After the rush of orders gets filled, he continues on to the next neighborhood. This one has more young adults, most likely college students. Girls with pink hair, guys with long hair. Then, Liam sees him.

🦖 It’s a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou @letthemusicmoveyou28 (E, 9k, Liam/Louis, fake marriage, post-rehab)

All around him, his coworkers have started pulling out their chosen lunches. And Liam does the same, reaching down to the backpack at his feet and pulling out the Tupperware of leftover spaghetti he’d packed this morning. When he sets it on the table he notices a little neon pink post it note on the lid that he didn’t remember being there before. Written on the note in messy scrawl it says: Have a wonderful day husband! Can’t wait to suck you off when you get home!! XOXO -Lou. Liam feels his face go bright red again as he hastily rips off the note and crumples it in his fist. He glances around the table, but thankfully no one seems to be paying him any attention. They’re all wrapped up in their own food items or listening to whatever their boss is talking about. (Or the one where Liam and Louis are best bros who end up getting married so that Liam has the insurance he needs to go to rehab. Now that he’s sober, they can get divorced. But do they want to?)

🦖 Love Like This by reminiscingintherain @reminiscingintherain (E, 33k, Liam/Louis/Zayn, royalty, RWRB au)

A Zouiam RWRB AU, featuring Louis as the First Son, Liam as the Prince, and Zayn as Liam's friend and equerry. With appearances from Lottie as Louis' helpful sister, Harry as his best friend, and Niall as Liam's golf instructor (or gardener? or something else?).

🦖 leave my life outside (or let me in) by we_are_the_same @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (M, 53k, Liam/Zayn, fantasy, demon)

“You want to what-” he asks, even though he’s heard Louis correctly. Louis shrugs a shoulder, unbothered. “I want to go to a Halloween party.” Zayn pinches the bridge of his nose. “In the human dimension.” He adds, because that’s the part that stresses him out about this. Having a Halloween party in itself sounds like fun, he’s not going to lie. Even if he’s never been particularly fond of parties, hasn’t made many friends beyond Louis. But it’s one thing to attend a party with their classmates, where he can go home the moment he feels like his social battery’s drained. It’s quite another to sneak down to the human world. It makes sense, in a way. Halloween is the one night a year where people won’t look at them and immediately recognize them for who they are. It’s the one night a year where their horns or talons are considered to be part of a costume. Zayn is a 111 year old demon who is trying to decide his future. Liam is a 17 year old human struggling with his own life. Two people from completely different worlds, yet they find a little piece of home in one another. But nothing’s ever quite that simple, is it?

🦖 your crimes are quiet, my love by lightswoodmagic @lightwoodsmagic (E, 98k, Liam/Zayn, MI5, crime and murder)

“It’s lucky you’re here actually, Malik. They figured out the riddle from the church.” Anthony shuffled papers on his desk as Zayn snapped to attention. “The next victim is a contestant of the upcoming Mr. UK pageant. It’s a great breakthrough, but we have a slight problem.” Zayn looked to Liam for answers, but it was obvious this was the first he’d heard of it too. “Which is?” “We’re going to need someone to go undercover, and it’s going to be you.” Liam’s hand fell to the back of Zayn’s chair with a thump. A darker Miss Congeniality AU that follows Zayn and Liam, MI5 agents, partners since training and best friends, as they race to stop a serial killer. When Liam makes a tactical call that backfires and almost gets Zayn killed during a raid, he refuses to let Zayn be the one to put himself at risk when all signs point to an upcoming pageant for the serial killer’s next target. While everyone around them seems to be hiding something and they're forced further apart, Liam and Zayn need to find the person responsible, protect each other with everything they have, and figure out why everything suddenly feels different between them.

🦖 Shadow Dancing by Layne Faire (HisDarlin) @laynefaire (E, 176k+ WIP, boxing, firefighter!Liam)

As a small child, Liam Payne dreamed of being a firefighter. He took up boxing to defend himself from school bullies, but never lost sight of his dream. 15 years later, Liam is set to be the youngest brigade watch commander in his district, and his recent boxing win puts him in line for the British national title - if he can learn to get out of his own way. Zayn took his first dance lesson at 5, after watching his sister's tap class. At 18, when an injury derails Zayn's dream of dancing professionally, he sets it aside to attend university, but the lure of dancing proves too great to ignore. He becomes an instructor, and eventually, the owner of a small dance studio, where he encourages other dancers to chase their dreams. When their worlds collide in a cacophony of misunderstandings, Zayn, confronted with his own biases, realizes there’s more to Liam than meets the eye, and offers to help him prepare for his upcoming fight. While Liam learns to dance, Zayn learns the art of compromise, and along the way, they find each other. And when tragedy strikes, Liam finds that Zayn’s love will help him face the shadows of his past, and give him the courage to believe in himself and his dreams for the future.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Hey. I want to talk about how we, as a fandom, talk about Stede.

I want to preface this with the fact that I adore Stede, in all his multi-faceted, complex glory. The way that he's been brave and allowed himself to fight for a more authentic life is incredibly inspiring to me. I'm a lot like Stede, both on the surface-level "we're both femme gay men who are unable to present as anything else" and on a deeper "we both feel a sort of fundamental alienation from our peers and as a result are easily susceptible to peer pressure and tend to self-isolate as a learned coping mechanism and accidentally hurt others by assuming they don't want us in our lives." I think MANY people in this fandom find it very easy to relate with some of Stede's deeper issues, I don't presume I'm alone here.

And it's very true that there is a loud chunk of this fandom who vocally hate both of the main characters and talk about Stede like he's just some bumbling idiot. I get wanting to push back on that.

But I don't think it's really helpful to argue that people should police the way we talk about Stede. I can understand why the "Stede is my stupid bitch <3" and "Stede's cringe" jokes can hit a bit too close to home for some people, but I don't think that every joke post should need to come with a disclaimer that's like "I don't actually think Stede is a loser." Lord knows I've made my fair share of "Ed's such a dork <3" posts, too.

The thing here, I think, is that when people say things like "Stede's so cringe, I love him," that's from a place of deep affection and growing self-acceptance. I've worried about feeling "cringe" before, for a lot of the things that Stede does, too - not reading social cues correctly, for talking in ways that don't match up with the social situation I'm in, for loving things too much, for being a gnc gay man. If Stede's 'cringe,' and I love him so much...then how can I be mean to myself for the same things?

I don't think anyone who actually likes Stede and says things like "he's so dumb I love him" is being mean or simplifying the character, especially not just in a short joke post. If you've actually watched the show, then you KNOW Stede isn't dumb. Sometimes jokes just aren't that deep, and I think these posts, at their deepest, are no worse than "I relate to this guy a lot and he's really silly and I love him." It's okay if that kind of post annoys you, but it's also important to remember that they're coming from people who also love and relate to the character, and aren't malicious at all.

At the end of the day, I guess...I just think it's important for people to feel able to relate to Stede and write about him in ways that are meaningful to them, and sometimes our needs won't jive, and that's okay, and we can be mindful of that.

[cloudedmoonofficial]

What do you plan on doing YouTube wise now that your focusing more on the books side of Clouded Moon instead of the animated series?

We've got LOTS of plans!

Obviously, our main focus right now is the book release for 'Shifting Roots', and then finishing the Chapter 2 episode. With that, I'm hoping to get some updated videos out. So essentially remaking the old character introduction video and line ups for each colony.

After that, Snap and I really want to do some AMVs! We've got a couple of ideas storyboarded and scripted and we're SO excited about them. Especially after the first book comes out, we want to have some short form content that takes inspiration from the first book, and also tease a few things happening in the next book.

There's a lot of things we'd like to do, but I don't want to get ahead of myself. We'll just have to see how things go!

[whatcannotbesaid-shallbewept]

Why The Genderswap Is The Best Thing About Warriors

Here's another post on The Warriors genderswap because I’m still not over how good it was!!!

You've got to understand that changing the Warriors to women was a sacrifice. No matter how good a choice it was, it alienated a lot of the people who would otherwise be obsessed with it.

Warriors is already a cult 70s movie - it doesn't have a huge fanbase. Making the main characters women basically alienated that entire fanbase. Because Warriors is very much a movie about masculinity.

The fans liked it because it was about masculinity, and masculine themes (courage, honour) done masculine-y.

You can find megafans of the movie on reddit or tumblr, who are very much annoyed that the story is no longer about men being men. The story isn't the same anymore, and they aren't interested.

But the change wasn't made without reason.

Lin Manuel Miranda previously thought it was impossible to turn the Warriors into a musical, despite it being one of his favourite movies. The thing that changed his mind? The genderswap.

The Warriors album was made because of the genderswap. Lin thought it was the only interesting way to tell the story in the modern age - and you know what? He was right.

Everything just hits harder when they're women.

Orphan Town and We Got You are hilarious because they're women.

Turning a male/female seductions on their head. Male seduction is a k-pop Ballad about being a nice guy? Genius.

Moments like Call Me Mercy and Park At Night are empowering and emotionally charged because they're women.

Mercy looks at the Warriors and for the first time in her life sees women that have empowered themselves, and drops everything in her life to join them, because she wants to feel like that too.

Ajax sees a catcaller sexually harassing all of her friends and thinks "I need to teach this guy a lesson, because no one else in the world will ever do that"

The story feels more intense - it feels scarier.

On some level, every women is afraid to walk home at night, and Warriors is just that feeling elevated to a musical. The threat doesn't just feel more real - it feels intimately relatable.

The genderswap was heavily inspired by gamergate. Warriors is now a story about women not being believed, being falsely accused and taken advantage of.

But the story's moral still ends up being that these women need to keep their pride, need to keep pushing on. Through everything they still hold their heads high.

God it just works so well.

Re-intepreting Luther into an incel-type villian who wants the women out of his "space"? Brilliant. Turning the controversial Swan/Mercy romance into a lesbian love story? Fantastic! Shifting the story from being about courage, to being about the courage to hold your head high even after being attacked with gender-charged abuse? Life-changing.

The emotions just... work better when they're women. Reversing the genderswap now would be taking the story's teeth away.

You can't reverse time now guys!

Much like Warriors evolved the book - the musical evolved the movie. The dudebros are scratching their heads - angry they can't relate to the musical, without realising that they aren't supposed to.

Warriors is no longer a story about masculinity. It's about femininity now and I couldn't be happier.

[laura1633]

i need to say this somewhere and i hope you won’t mind if i send this “rant” here. bc this is just a stupid smut pet peeve that i let annoy me so much.

but anyway every time i go to the lestappen tag i get really disheartened bc there is such a imbalance. there is so much bottom charles and omega charles and charles being loved and worshiped and i honestly wouldn’t mind that at all but the number of fics where max gets the same are pretty much nonexistent compared to charles-centric fics like there are bottom max fics but they get drowned out. pretty much all the popular fics that have thousands of kudos and that ppl recommend to everyone are bottom charles. seriously i saw a rec list once where the few bottom max fics had the fact that they are bottom max mentioned in the same manner as content warnings for some other fics. it was super weird but maybe the person who made that didn’t think it would come across like that.

i know there are lots of bottom max fics (i’ve probably read them all lol) and ppl who like both, like you. i’m happy about the ppl who comment on bottom max fics those fics still get a lot of love even when it seems so little in the grand scheme of things. but i’m just annoyed and a bit confused that it’s so disproportionate. probably bc charles is more popular than max and bottom charles has gotten so popular ppl are inclined to it and it's "safe" and gets more love.

then again there’s so much talk about omega max on tumblr and then none of that shows on ao3 weirdly. (except maybe on the maxiel side i literally became a maxiel shipper bc i wanted more omega max lol) some ppl on here who say they’re bottom/omega max “truthers” have like several top max fics on their account and no bottom max fics which literally not that deep everyone should write what they want and what they are inspired to write but not practicing what you preach confuses me a bit not gonna lie haha. i’ve written my own fics which are pretty much premises i want to desperately read but no one has written them (like fine i'll do it myself) and i've gotten a good response but i’m a slow writer so i haven't written everything i want to write. thank you for everything you’ve written laura!

I don't mind at all anon, I have added your second ask too <3 Sorry this ended up being a lengthy reply. I love that we can yap about the bottom or omega Max agenda though 😂

I started writing maybe about two years ago and at the time a lot of the Lestappen stories were definitely bottom Charles and omega Charles. I started writing because a little bit like yourself there was some stuff I wanted to read that didn't exist so I just wrote it myself. At the time I had no clue how to write but I have hopefully improved over the past couple years! I was just desperate for there to be some more soft Max or Max being looked after and cared for. I just think Max doesn't get enough love and there can never be enough fics where it's pointed out just how hot he is!

I also like the idea of sexy, hot alpha Charles and think it's fun to not always see him in that 'babygirl' role if that makes sense. Although I can see why he ends up in that role a lot, he is also very pretty

I used to read a lot of Maxiel for the same reason as yourself, in fact I do still read Maxiel because of that reason and also because there are some very talented writers writing it. (although I also think of Daniel as being quite omega like!)

I definitely agree that there is a lot more bottom and omega Max within the lestappen tag now compared to a couple of year ago.

For me, I like to swap it around. I like to write soft alpha Max and even bottom alpha Max. The main thing for me is that the dynamic works for the story I want to tell. I have started leaning more towards omega Max though because I know that there is plenty of omega Charles out there and there are plenty of people who can write omega Charles much better than I can!!

You are absolutely correct about the comments and kudos thing. Firstly I should say that there are some amazing writers writing some amazing bottom and omega Charles fics that deserve all the love in the world and I am not for one second suggesting that they only have so many responses because of the dynamic but (at least to start with) I found that my omega Charles fics got more kudos than the omega Max ones. That might have just been a coincidence but when I start writing a story I know it will get more attention if I write it with the omega Charles dynamic. I'm not for one second suggesting that that is what people are thinking about btw, it's just a fact I have noticed with my own work. These days I just write what I like and hope some other people like it. If I ranked my fics by kudos they definitely wouldn't be in quality order so I don't worry about that now 😂

Like you have said, everyone should write what they like as it's all for fun. I am just glad there are other people out there reading and writing bottom/omega Max or even just Max getting the love and attention he deserves.

I will read top Max and I enjoy top Max. The only Max fics I don't like are where the writer clearly doesn't like Max and is making him unnecessarily aggressive or just making him the butt of the joke in a mean way. I prefer to read Lestappen when I can tell that the writer likes both of them if that makes sense (obviously people have a favourite but that's different. )

The content warning for the bottom Max fics made me giggle. I don't know what context that was in as I didn't see the post but it definitely made me laugh. Maybe it needs a content warning because its likely to alter your brain chemistry and you'll not be able to see him topping again 😂

I will always write some bottom Charles and some omega Charles because it just works in certain contexts for me but I have felt myself leaning more towards the other dynamic. Hopefully most people don't mind because there are so many Lestappen writers these days so there is definitely plenty of omega Charles to chose from.

I am shocked there is not more Omega Max x Omega Charles though as that seems to fit quite well.

Sorry, I totally rambled there but I am a huge lover of omega and bottom Max and always will be. I am also a huge lover of Max being treated nicely and softly and getting all the attention and affection in the world.

[machineheraldbabe]

i had every intention of moving off tumblr as we approach november 9, but i was inspired to elaborate on a thought by @nylloth's recent machine herald-final form post.

for all those who are worried about viktor's importance to season 2 and/or want to see him as a (THE) huge villain of the story...

these 2 shots have always fascinated me, the first being from heimerdinger's warning about the arcane to council in 1x02. thesecond is from the main trailer for season 2 (which we all know since we've watched both a million times!). to note:

the clouds are parted the same way, in a circle, above a city/civilization.

Light is concentrated at the center of the cloud parting.

an important DIFFERENCE, however, is the absence of the mage-like figure in the trailer's image. and call me a conspiracy theorist (so is the way of being a viktor fan at this point), but it looks to me like the trailer has cropped something out. that's my trailer screenshot straight from youtube. and i think there's clearly something missing...

second, and this may be an even larger stretch, i think we ought to pay some mind to arcane's thematic lighting and coloring in season 1.

the sudden orange and red imagery in heimerdinger's warning to jayce and viktor about the hexcore's potential for destruction comes as a visual shock. i can't think of many scenes that are colored in the same way, if any at all, until the season finale.

the whole council chamber is doused in an eerie red lighting - clear foreshadowing to the "deadly" end they are about to meet once jinx attacks. but i think there's something worthwhile in this train of thought: heimerdinger's episode 2 warning about the arcane + viktor's evolving hexcore + heimerdinger's second warning explicitly to jayce and viktor about the evolving hexcore, in this red/orange lighting + the council's doom spelled out in red/orange + viktor (who heralds their end by announcing the peace treaty between piltover and zaun) profiled specifically in red/orange.

IN SUM: both of these things could prove that viktor will have IMMENSE importance in season 2, if not herald (!!!) the arcane doom heimerdinger fears so much.

call me crazy. there's only 9 days till i find out for certain whether my pipe dream of a BBEG viktor comes true or not. but, in my heart of hearts, i really hope these parallels and colors and themes and potentialities amount to something.

[skyrider3217artz]

Cosplay Bonus Update #2

Another update on the cosplay for spooky month with the help of @skythevirus.

New outfit for The Noise

The only thing I want to mention is the new spooky outfit for The Noise, changing his whole look to look like an Imp.

For those who did not know, Noise dresses up twice in the halloween update, one as a rabbit in the main lobby in world three (which is more reminisent of the Noid who his design was inspired by), and an Imp in the pause screen while the game has the halloween update active. Honestly the Imp fits him more in my opinion.

Its easy to make new costumes for both Peppino and Noise now that we have patterns that we can just cut and sew. I plan to make another but not a huge priority atm. I want to get back to plush making.

That's it for now.

<- Final Update ----- Bonus Update 1 --- Bonus Update 3 (TBD) --->

[dandys-world-oc-ask-blog]

HELL0 THERE!!-

Welcome to.. my Dandy's World + oc ask blog! Hope you enjoy it.. :] Asks are: 0PEN!

RULES!!

No NSFW Asks, Proshipping, or K!nks. 2. N0 MIN0R X ADULT!! 3. You can have roleplays in here, but it'd be in a different 'AU'. Just no over-powered oc things in here. [it'd be in separate posts away from the main posts] 4. 0NE MAGIC AN0N AT A TIME!! It's so I don't get overworked, after a magic anon's magic wears off, it'll take one day for another magic anon to be able to put their own magic. 5. Have fun! And RESPECT THE RULES!!

Info about my 0c here:

My 0c's name is Casper. 36 YEARS 0LD!! They're a Trans male. Their pronouns are He/They. They don't know what they're supposed to be, but they lean towards being a cat. They like drawing, sleeping, and fruits. :]

WHAT THIS BL0G WAS INSPIRED BY: @ihateverything100 @ask-dandy @bakingcakeroll @the-tea-party-hostess @bestberrybaker

@technotelevision @detective-rdger @lovesickshell @overlyluckykiddo @glisten-the0neand0nly

@theoneandonlyshrimpo @ammoniteshell @cleanfreaktisha @eightballkid @thebright3stlight

@cosmicbroadcast @gardenview-blossom @flutterflyingfree @a-hug-a-day @numberonehatershrimp

@fishbowl-finn

CHECK THEM 0UT!!

(By the way main blog is @heartkitties

[blackenedsnow]

IT'S ME AGAIN. DON'T ASK. Please don't question why I'm here, I only have drama in mind, but I have a desire for action.

Singer!reader with Bodyguard!sss(silver, sonic, shadow) team, Reader, a popular singer, was constantly giving concerts and releasing a new album every year and continuing to be popular, but she had a problem singing and performing constantly and after the concert, her voice was constantly muffled/hoarse this always got worried the bodyguards. Reader also delayed them just saying "don't be that worried about it omg..!" like shes mean girl type, Of course, the triple guards know that and they know her well, so they can't/didn't say much. In fact singing was a strength of hers, the songs she sang hooked/obsessed the people and helped them to love her even more. That's the good thing of her power. The bad thing is, if she sings a violent and scary melody or song, it becomes reality, but she didn't know it..yet.

Suddenly she got shot a few bullets in her chest while singing one of those kind of songs, but she kept singing to hide her pain, then a few minutes later of disaster and massive pain she fell to the ground and fans started or tried to help her but the other mean guards didn't let them as the fans began to curse the mean guards as a massive fight begin around them as the main triple guards came to the concert and tried to help her but she was already dying...the triple guards tried to save her as they failed and she died at the concert.

A star who is popular again after 10 years attracts the attention of 3 guards or not anymore guards they were normal hero hedgehogs again. Silver was the first to notice it, then shadow and sonic noticed too but had she changed much? İ MEAN MUCH. She has red hair, red sun-like pupils and a black tight jumpsuit. She also has a beauty mark below her right eye. After 3 hedgehogs tried and managed to get her attention at the concert, she suddenly stopped the concert and wanted to meet privately with 3 hedgehogs.

After entering her own private room she sneeringly smiled and looked at them as they really thought she was a dead popstar but she was faking her dead the whole time trying to recreate her singing power as she began to explain more and answered their question.

I leave you the back questions and the made-up story, You can say anything you want about why she's been acting dead so far..

take care of yourself! ⭐

voice of power

WARNING: Mentions of violence and injury, faked death

PAIRING: Sonic the Hedgehog x (Fem) Singer! Reader, Shadow the Hedgehog x (Fem) Singer! Reader, Silver the Hedgehog x (Fem) Singer! Reader,

NOTE: Hey there! I’m always excited to hear your ideas and write what inspires you! I’m here for it all. :)

SUMMARY: You’re a powerful, world-famous singer with a voice that captivates and obsesses the masses, backed by an elite team of bodyguards: Sonic, Shadow, and Silver. But behind the glamour and success, there’s a price to pay.

The lights dimmed as you took center stage, basking in the deafening roar of the crowd. Their cheers, a familiar symphony of adoration, pumped through your veins like electricity. You flashed a confident smile as you gripped the microphone, your voice effortlessly weaving through the melody. Song after song, you captivated them, holding their hearts in the palm of your hand.

You were a sensation—a force of nature in the music world. No matter how many concerts you performed or albums you released, your popularity never waned. But tonight, like every other performance, the price for your talent was clear by the end.

As the final note echoed through the stadium, your voice, once powerful and sharp, had turned raspy and hoarse. You barely managed a breathy "thank you" before retreating backstage, leaving the crowd chanting your name in blissful ignorance of the strain you were under.

But your bodyguards? They knew.

Sonic was the first to greet you behind the curtain, his usual energetic smile slightly faltering when he saw the exhaustion on your face. “Another great show, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off, your tone sharp but dismissive. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Silver and Shadow joined moments later, their expressions a little less carefree. Silver, always the worrier, frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay? Your voice—”

“It’s fine!” you snapped, rolling your eyes. “God, you guys worry too much. It’s just hoarse. Don’t be so dramatic.”

Shadow, standing a bit farther back, crossed his arms, his red eyes studying you in silence. He, more than the others, had learned not to push you when you were like this. It was your way of coping after all.

Sonic glanced at Shadow, but he didn’t argue. He knew better, too. You were their responsibility, yes, but they’d learned over time how to navigate your prickly exterior. Still, the hoarseness in your voice was becoming too common to ignore, and they all knew it.

“You’ve been doing this a lot lately,” Silver muttered, glancing at the others for support. “We’re just… worried.”

You sighed dramatically, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a long sip. “Well, stop worrying. I’m fine. You guys need to chill.”

There it was—that edge in your voice, the cool dismissal. You weren’t cruel, not really, but you had a way of pushing them back whenever they got too close. You’d built walls to keep them from prying into things you didn’t want to talk about—like how drained you felt after every concert, or how your throat burned after singing. They weren’t allowed to worry about you, not if you had any say in it.

But deep down, they couldn’t help it. Because they knew you—better than anyone else.

Still, they held back, even as concern tugged at them. This was your routine. After every show, your voice would be rough, and after every show, you’d tell them not to worry. But as your bodyguards, they couldn’t just ignore it.

Sonic, Silver, and Shadow exchanged glances, silently agreeing to let it go for now. You were strong, and they respected that, but they’d seen enough to know when something wasn’t right.

“You’ve got more performances coming up,” Sonic said after a moment, rubbing the back of his head. “Just… don’t overdo it, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not some fragile little flower, you know,” you replied, shrugging him off as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “I’ve got this under control.”

But they couldn’t shake the feeling that something was building, something you didn’t even realize. After all, they knew you weren’t just any singer. There was something different about you—something powerful about your voice that went beyond just captivating an audience.

And they feared that you might be playing with something you didn’t fully understand.

A few nights later, this specific night seemed perfect—just like every other concert. You were on stage, the crowd hanging on your every word, every note, just like always. The lights were bright, the music loud, and your voice—though a little strained—still commanded the room. But something felt different tonight.

The song you were performing wasn’t like your usual set. This one had a darker edge, a haunting melody that throbbed through the venue like a heartbeat. Your fans didn’t seem to mind, though. They were just as entranced as always, singing along, their faces lit with adoration.

But then, something snapped.

The first shot hit your chest before you even realized what was happening.

Pain. Sharp and all-consuming. It ripped through you, but you didn’t stop singing. You couldn’t. Your voice was your armor, your strength, and no matter what was happening, you couldn’t let the audience see you in pain. So you kept singing, your voice now layered with a hidden agony that none of them could sense—yet.

Another bullet. And another.

Your breath hitched, but the notes kept coming, your body trembling with the effort. The stage lights blurred in your vision, the sound of your voice fading under the roaring in your ears. You couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when all eyes were on you.

But the pain was unbearable.

It felt like your chest was on fire, the bullets lodged deep, your body betraying you. You clutched the microphone tighter, leaning into it for support as your legs began to give out. You didn’t care if it hurt. You didn’t care if—

Your knees buckled. The microphone slipped from your hand, and in a heartbeat, you hit the ground.

The crowd screamed.

Chaos erupted as the fans surged forward, trying to help you, but the security guards—a rougher, meaner bunch hired for the event—blocked their way, shoving people back. “Stay back!” they barked, their voices cold and unfeeling, as if they didn’t care that you were lying there, bleeding out in front of thousands of people.

The fans shouted, some of them screaming your name, others cursing the guards. Fists flew, and soon a full-blown riot broke out. The guards pushed back harder, forming a barrier around you as the concert dissolved into madness.

But you could barely see it anymore.

The pain was overwhelming, blurring the edges of your vision as blood pooled beneath you. The world spun, and your breath came in shallow gasps. The sounds around you—shouts, screams, the clashing of bodies—faded into the background.

Suddenly, through the haze, you saw them. Sonic, Shadow, and Silver were pushing through the chaos, their eyes locked on you. They moved fast, faster than you’d ever seen them, but it didn’t matter. You knew it was too late.

By the time they reached you, your chest was heaving, every breath a struggle. Sonic dropped to his knees beside you, his usual smile nowhere to be found. “Hey… hey, we’re here. You’re gonna be okay,” he said, though his voice wavered.

Shadow was already checking your wounds, his expression grim, while Silver hovered nearby, panic clear in his wide eyes.

But you knew. You could feel the life draining out of you, the strength that had always been there slipping through your fingers. You tried to speak, tried to tell them something—anything—but your voice was gone, replaced by a weak gurgle.

It was too late.

The world was already fading, the pain dulling as your body went cold. You could feel yourself slipping away, the noise of the concert—of the chaos—growing distant.

And then… just like that, you were gone.

Ten years had passed since the tragic night when your life was cut short on stage. The music world had mourned, and your three former bodyguards—Sonic, Shadow, and Silver—had each gone back to their roles as heroes. They tried to move on, but losing you had left a mark on each of them, a wound that never fully healed.

That was why, when Silver saw you again, standing under the bright lights of a new concert stage, his heart nearly stopped.

It wasn’t just the resemblance—it was you. He knew it, deep in his gut, despite the changes. You were different, transformed, but still undeniably you.

“Is that—” Silver muttered, wide-eyed, as he stared at the screen showing the concert.

Shadow, sitting nearby, followed Silver’s gaze. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the screen, a flicker of recognition flashing in his sharp red eyes. “It can’t be…”

But it was. Sonic, who had just walked into the room, caught sight of the broadcast and froze. “No way…” His usual carefree tone was gone, replaced by shock.

The three of them stared at the screen, watching in stunned silence as you moved across the stage, your presence commanding as always, but now with an even more magnetic pull. You hadn’t just changed physically—you were more powerful, more captivating than ever.

“I thought she was dead,” Sonic whispered, his voice barely audible.

Silver was the first to move, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. “We need to get to that concert.”

Shadow and Sonic exchanged a glance before following. They didn’t know how it was possible, but if you were back, they needed answers. And more than anything, they needed to see you again.

At the concert venue, the crowd was mesmerized by your performance. Every note you sang seemed to wrap around their minds, drawing them in deeper with every passing second. But your attention wasn’t on the audience—it was on the three familiar faces you’d spotted in the crowd.

Silver. Shadow. Sonic.

It had been years since you’d seen them, but the moment their eyes met yours, you knew it was time. You couldn’t continue the charade any longer.

Without warning, you stopped mid-song. The band fell silent, and the audience, confused and murmuring, watched as you raised a hand to signal the end of the concert.

“I want to meet three people,” you announced, your voice echoing through the venue. “Backstage. Now.”

The crowd erupted in whispers, confused but curious. The three hedgehogs were just as surprised, but they didn’t hesitate. Guided by a mix of disbelief and anticipation, they made their way backstage.

Once inside the privacy of your room, the atmosphere grew heavier. You leaned against the back of a lavish chair, your sun-like eyes gleaming with amusement as you looked over the three hedgehogs before you. For years, they had believed you were dead. The memory of that night, the blood, the chaos—it had been seared into their minds. And now here you stood, alive, and more powerful than ever.

A sneering smile curled at your lips as you crossed your arms, eyes flicking between them. “You really thought I was dead, huh?” You chuckled darkly. “You have no idea.”

Sonic’s fists clenched at his sides, confusion and shock flashing in his emerald eyes. “You died. We saw it happen. How… how are you standing here like nothing happened?”

Silver was quieter, still processing, while Shadow’s sharp gaze hadn’t left your face, his body rigid with tension as he waited for an explanation.

You straightened up, pushing off the chair and taking a slow step forward, your voice turning cold and calculated. “It was all a lie. Every single bit of it. I faked my death that night on stage.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. None of them spoke for a long moment, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

“Why?” Shadow asked, his voice low, almost growling. His red eyes were locked onto yours, demanding an answer.

You smiled again, this time more bitter than amused. “Because I had to. That night, when those bullets hit me, I realized something. My voice… it wasn’t just a talent. It was a weapon. A power. And I didn’t understand how to control it.” You took a deep breath, letting the gravity of your words sink in. “Every song I sang, every note I hit, could change the world around me. If I sang a sad song, the people listening would become depressed. If I sang something violent…”

Sonic flinched at the memory, recalling how the audience had descended into chaos after you were shot.

“I could have caused a disaster,” you continued, pacing slowly as you spoke. “That’s what was happening the night I ‘died.’ The bullets, the riot—it wasn’t just bad luck. It was me. My voice made it happen. I sang a violent song, and it became reality.”

Silver’s eyes widened, piecing things together. “So… you faked your death to stop it? To stop hurting people?”

You nodded. “Yes. After that night, I knew I wasn’t safe to be around anyone. My powers were too unstable, too dangerous. I couldn’t risk more people getting hurt. So I disappeared. For ten years, I’ve been hiding, working on controlling my abilities, on recreating them in a way that I can harness them—without all the chaos.”

Sonic’s face was twisted with a mix of emotions, hurt and anger mixing together. “Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve helped you. We thought you were gone forever!”

You looked away for a moment, guilt flickering across your features before hardening again. “Because I didn’t need your help. I needed time. Alone. You wouldn’t have understood what I was trying to do. I had to figure it out on my own.”

Shadow, silent until now, stepped forward, his voice steely. “And now? What’s changed? You’ve revealed yourself again. Why?”

Your lips curled into a dark smile once more, your red eyes glowing as you met his gaze. “Because I’ve perfected it. I’ve mastered my voice. I’ve become more powerful than ever before. And now… it’s time for me to reclaim the world I left behind. I’m not the same popstar you used to protect. I’m something more.”

Silver frowned, his voice quiet but filled with concern. “But what about the danger? What if it happens again?”

You tilted your head slightly, your smile fading as you looked at him. “That’s the thing, Silver. It won’t happen again. Because now, I’m in control. I can decide who lives, who loves, who fights… and who dies.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of your words sinking in. You were no longer the person they once knew. You were something far more dangerous—and far more powerful.

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

I’ve been so excited for more sumeru content! We were treated with an odd textual mystery but now we’re being fed again! I love this cast so much, so i've broken down my thoughts having finished nahida's birthday event <3

the birthday surprise for nahida is so sweet and so well deserved, and I’m so glad we’re finally get to celebrate it in-game especially after her birthday letter last year

dehya getting inspiration for the birthday surprise by talking to dunyarzard… yeah, I know what you are

candace, my beloved, hangout when? It was really nice to spend some time with her one on one, and to see her being a pro haggler due to her efficiency in being a guardian, enough so that she bested dori? Amazing, capable, practical, I love her

candace’s ancestry is so !?!?! interesting to me, and the fact that her being a descendant of the people of king deshret is something that I would love to see explored in relation to the temple of silence? hoyoverse... i am begging... (also the traveller for once not have access to some mystery power,, its funny to me, candace is the main character here)

cyno seeing hat guy and saying, oh sethos has talked about you, as if cyno hasn’t already technically met hat guy in the Interdarshan championship… no, instead cyno knows him through sethos talking about him, oh……

haikaveh’s first appearance being labelled as ‘suspicious’ because they are having a private conversation in an alley is something that is so… sethos’s voiceline is so relevant here I fear, okay queercoding <333

Alhaitham telling paimon that her jumping to dark conclusions says a lot about her mindset, it’s FUNNY!! But I am making parallels to kaveh’s mindset pre-and-during a parade of providence, I am once again asking for clarification hoyoverse, kaveh second hangout pls

HAIKAVEH FLASHBACK!! Making a record I see, with a flashback in their home in cyno’s second story quest, and now in port ormos, there’s just something so special about getting to see these little fragments into their daily lives together

The line ‘Like I said, that's not it! We have more than just a heartless, transactional relationship... You're overthinking the whole thing!’ is VERY interesting, since we’re given no context as to what this is about until alhaitham’s following line, this reads as kaveh’s perspective on his and alhaitham’s relationship, and I think that’s um interesting(!!) given his previous thoughts on why Alhaitham offered him a place to live!

Sick… I think its sick…. Kaveh yapping to alhaitham about mehrak coming up with wild theories, Alhaitham says that mehrak could feel extorted, and then calls out kaveh being in port ormos and having found him, while he’s supposed to be working,,, as if he hasn’t been ENCOURAGING kaveh the whole time??  Can you say fond!!!

Kaveh wanting to show Alhaitham his proposal, and Alhaitham saying that he thought kaveh is confident in his abilities, is something that is so gentle and supportive

kaveh replying by saying that he does have confidence in his abilities, but he wanted to confirm something with Alhaitham anyway, and then pursuing this further by seeking alhaitham’s opinion on his proposal – it’s so notable on kaveh’s part how much their relationship has progressed, as he now actively seeks Alhaitham out!!

Kaveh wanting to show Alhaitham the plans for the route of the flower carriage, saying he’s glad to have run into him, reminds me of an odd textual mystery where kaveh says he’s been looking for Alhaitham everywhere, and them serendipitously meeting in port ormos is giving ‘the universe is playing tricks on us’, a destined reunion, how can I be normal

Every single time we see haikaveh in canon hoyoverse is insistent in furthering their intimacy, wdym kaveh programmed mehrak to recognise alhaitham’s voice!?!?!?! This scene further establishes how important mehrak is to kaveh, and by kaveh wanting to have mehrak recognise and know Alhaitham as he knows kaveh is something that is so soft I think

Mehrak leaving to go and find coffee beans, okay youre a family we get it, the haikaveh coffee motif is something that is so meaningful to me, I’ll have to make a post about it at some point!

Faruzan showing her ‘true senior’ status to avoid being caught by nahida and scolding kaveh, for him to be :(((??? i love them

kaveh lies about not having the plans, and then uses Alhaitham as a scapegoat - ‘The plans... Oh, I almost forgot! My friend has them! That guy's always causing trouble, hahaha... I'll fetch them in a bit.’ Kaveh’s friend?? His FRIEND?? We have officially come full circle from kaveh denying this association in alhaitham’s character quest! I have MANY thoughts about this!! I’ll share them when I get the chance!

Nahida offering kaveh guidance and advice is something that is so <3333

King deshret and goddess of flowers lore mention!!! Also candace having heard their voices because of the power of the wedjat eye is !! intriguing to say the least, since they seemed to be planning the birthday celebration, just like the cast in the present. cyclical occurrences, oh im sick. The wedjat eye being placed in the custody of the temple of silence makes me hopeful for a future event exploring the temple of silence in more detail (im hanging on by a thread)

The fulfilment of sethos’s and the wanderer’s voiceline about each other. wdym people told sethos to fetch the wanderer because they know that they have a personal relationship?? Sethos saying he knows the wanderer pretty well now, commending him on his achievements, and the wanderer giving in and following sethos to the celebrations because sethos asked?? Sumeru… I know what you are!!!!!

Taking a picture to commemorate the moment of happiness in place of the wedjat eye and nahida saying that experiencing everyone’s kindness and warmth was like being a bird tucked in a nest, contrasting with her motif of a bird locked in a cage, now she is safe and secure? This is so beautiful?

This event was so fun to play through! Seeing characters from other sumeru quests, the exploration of sumeru’s history, and the development of characters and events that could lead to future storylines, I’m so grateful for being fed <3 HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAHIDA!!

[fox-teeth]

In honor of the final days of @shortboxcomicsfair 2024 I wanted to write a post about "The Maker of Grave-Goods" journey from vague sketches to final comic!

This comic started with a single idea in 2020: how would sci-fi tech like faster-than-light travel effect the life of an artist?

At the time I was writing a lot of outlines for adult sci-fi comics and dreaming about ways to publish them. Two things stalled that project at the end of 2020--struggling with how to get them "out there" in the current US comics landscape, which is very focused on kids' comics and autobio/nonfiction as the main adult genres, and me becoming a frontline covid-19 healthcare worker.

(I have wondered if people read this comic as a reaction to genAI "art"--no, it's more about what's happened to webcomics since the early 2000s)

Some things in the original 2020 sketches stayed the same--compare this sketch of the intro pages with the actual page one--while others changed a lot. Originally the story focused on Mazu meeting other unfamiliar aliens in the space station more and her backstory was less fleshed out and told quickly. Also at one point Mazu's species had technology like telephones, and the species name was "Mazu". They always looked vaguely like dragons though.

I was frankly shocked when I got into ShortBox Comic Fair! And after much hemming and hawing I decided to resurrect one of those sci-fi comics for it, because I figured if any audience could appreciate difficult, literary genre fiction for adults in my ~indie comics for girls~ art style it was SBCF's.

I didn't really get started in this comic in earnest until May (dayjob stuff). I wrote most of the comic in the AMNH's Gottesman Library, both because it's the quietest most beautiful library in Manhattan (IMHO) and I could wander the halls looking for inspiration. Much of the look of this comic--especially the clay objects Mazu makes--were based on drawings I did of artworks in the AMNH and the Met.

As I worked on the outline and script/thumbs the story began to take shape, and became more about Mazu's life story within her extant culture contrasted with the precipice of complete social upheaval her people were standing on with the introduction of FTL travel. It also became twice as long as I estimated...

PART TWO: page from outline to final art

Buy "The Maker of Grave-Goods" on ShortBox Comics Fair

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Don't Move

*Loosely inspired by the new Netflix movie Don’t Move but I haven’t actually watched it and only saw clips and read the synopsis.

I never should have parked so far from the grocery store. I’d stopped to grab a few items for dinner on my way home from work and parked in the last row, wanting to give myself an opportunity to walk a little extra to the store and stretch my legs after sitting at a computer desk all day, especially since today was an uncharacteristically sunny fall day. When I finish shopping and come back out to my car, I vaguely take note of another car parked next to me.

Weird, considering half the lot was empty but who am I to judge, I’m not the parking police. I roll my cart to my car, unload my shopping bags, and return the cart before rounding my car to get in and leave. That’s when I realize that the car next to me parked absurdly close to mine.

I silently judge the distance and decide that maybe I can squeeze myself into my driver side door without dinging his door or mine so I step in the space between the two vehicles. As soon as I pull open my door, I can tell that my plan won’t work. I huff out a little laugh and decide to just crawl in through the passenger side when I hear the car door slam from behind.

“Sorry!” An embarrassed sounding male voice sounds. “I totally misjudged the distance and parked a little too close.”

I turn to see a tall man stride around what I assume is his car that he was sitting in, coming towards me. I smile back at him, “No worries, it happens to the best of us. I can just crawl in through the other side.”

His eyes crinkle in a kind smile and he raises one hand to run through his hair bashfully. I realize that he’s really attractive, the kind of boy-next-door attractive that makes you feel at ease. He’s closed the distance between us and stands near the back bumper of both our cars, his frame filling the space and effectively trapping me in.

“No, don’t, I can move my car, just give me a sec,” he says, giving a wry chuckle. I glance down at his other hand and see him holding an umbrella. I raise an eyebrow, gesturing towards it with my chin, “Expecting rain?”

He looks down as if he’s surprised to see the umbrella in his hand, “Oh! This! Well, you can never be too prepared, right?” He shrugs lightly and takes another step into my space.

“Plus, it’s really useful for times like this,” he says before clicking a button on the handle that makes the tip light up with electricity. His umbrella is a stun gun in disguise. Before I can react, he jabs it into my side and I let out a strangled yelp as sharp pain floods my body and I crumple.

He catches me and the last thing I see before my vision goes black is his handsome face twisted in a dark, menacing smile.

—

The rhythmic jostling of a car wakes me up and I found myself laid out across the backseat of a car with my arms tied behind my back and my legs tied together at my ankles. I let out a soft whine, my body aching as I slowly clear my head.

My eyes dart around the car and I see him driving. He tilts the rearview mirror down so we can see each other and he flashes me a charming smile.

“Good morning. Sleep well?” His voice is teasing, as if we were lovers, waking up in bed together and not a deranged kidnapper and his prey.

“What the fuck? Let me go!” I thrash against my restraints but he’s also strapped me into the seatbelts and made it impossible for me to get free.

He smiles, “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

I feel the car turn and from my limited view out the windows, I see him turn us from a main road onto a smaller path that seems to lead into the forest. Fear starts to overtake my every emotion.

“Where are you taking me? Are you going to kill me?” I say, my voice cracking.

He laughs in response but doesn’t deign to give me a verbal response. Before I can muster up the courage to ask more, the car comes to a stop and he steps out before opening the door by my feet.

With a strong grip, he hauls me out of the car and I stumble out, legs unsteady and uncoordinated from being bound together. “Please, please, let me go!” I beg him, my heart in my throat.

He grins at me, “Let’s play a game. I’ll give you an opportunity to run, and if you out-run me, I’ll let you go.” I gasp, staring at him, waiting for the catch. He reaches behind me and with a swift motion, unties my arms. He leans down and does the same for my ankles and I stare at him in shock.

“You better run, little bird.” His voice is teasing as he takes a step back from me. I don’t hesitate. I spin and take off.

My breath is harsh and my heartbeat wild as I sprint through the woods, ignoring the branches that scratch at my face and arms. I hear his laugh following me and then his voice shouting after me, “Run, little bird, run as fast as you want but you won’t get far!”

I don’t stop to think, just mindlessly crashing through the woods as fast as I can, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. I’m not sure how far I’m able to get when suddenly, my leg seems to give out from underneath me and I take a tumble.

I gasp, trying my best not to scream as I trip and find myself landing hard on the ground. Pain shoots through my body and I grit my teeth, not wanting to make any more noise in case he can hear me. Adrenaline is still pumping through me as I scramble to push myself back up from the floor. I manage to stand and take a step before my knees buckle again and I drop to my hands and knees.

What the fuck is going on? Why isn’t my body cooperating? I’m frantic, horror filling my blood as I realize something is very wrong. My legs won’t move and I don’t know why. I try to crawl forward but suddenly, my arms give out and I end up sprawled across my front, branches digging into my body painfully.

I can’t escape like this. My brain is begging my body to just move and keep running but nothing is happening. I use an excruciating amount of effort to roll myself from my front to my back so at least I can have a better vantage point but that’s all that I’m able to accomplish before my body completes shuts down. I’m left splayed out on my back, limbs frozen, mind screaming in panic when I hear footsteps approaching.

And then, I hear his voice. “Little bird, did the drugs kick in?”

My heart drops at his words. He drugged me. That was why I couldn’t move. Tears filled my eyes and I blinked rapidly, the only movement I could still produce.

I see him walk into my view through my tears and I hear him chuckle. “Looks like my little bird can’t fly anymore.” He walks up next to me and looks down at me and waves a syringe mockingly.

“A paralytic. Fast-acting and long-lasting. You’re going to be like this for at least several hours,” he says, a maniacal gleam lighting up his eyes. I try to speak and realize that I can’t even do that.

He crouches down next to me and brushes my hair off my face, then trailing a hand down my cheek, collecting a tear. “We are going to have so much fun together, little bird.”

He hefts me up into his arms and carries me through the forest, retracing the path I’d ran down. I realize with a sinking heart that I did not make it far at all and in a few hundred yards, we end up back at the car. My mind is still screaming at my body to move but nothing obeys.

He carries me into a cabin, the intended destination of our car ride, and I stare listlessly at the space around us. We end up in a bedroom with a large bed and I feel another wave of fear pass over me. He’s going to rape me.

He lays me down gently on the bed like I’m some kind of precious cargo. Then he disappears from view and I hear the sound of running water from what I assume is the connected bathroom. He comes back holding a first aid kit and a wet towel. He starts with the scratches on my face, wiping them down before putting some kind of cream over them, his fingers gentle.

He makes a tsk sound at me, “Look at you, little bird. Covered in scratches, I’m going to need to take good care of you, hm?” He smiles down at me and my stomach curdles. My eyes are wide as I stare back at him, silent.

Then he pulls out a pair of scissors and I want to flinch but I can’t. He starts to cut my shirt off my body and I feel dizzy with terror as my clothes start to fall away in strips. I beg my body to move but just like before, there’s nothing in response.

He moves down to my pants, opting to unbutton them and gently pull them off my legs, taking care to maneuver my body around. Tears are streaming down my face, wetting my temples and my hair as I stare up at the ceiling blankly.

I’m naked now, stripped bare, splayed out on the bed. “Fuck, little bird, you’re beautiful,” he says, his voice low. He runs a hand down my cheek, ghosting over my throat and down between the valley of my breasts, over my stomach, and he comes to rest in between my legs. I close my eyes, trying to escape from this horror.

He nudges my legs further apart, revealing my pussy to his hungry gaze and I feel his finger dance across me. The movement is gentle, teasing, and if I could move, it would have made me tense and jerk away. But instead, I lay still, my body unable to do anything except let him take what he wants.

He trails a gentle finger against my clit and the touch makes electricity dance down my spine. He pulls his hand away for a second and I feel his finger press against my mouth. My eyes fly open to meet his. He smiles at me before gently pushing his finger into my mouth. My lips part with no resistance and when he pulls his hand away, a string of saliva follows.

His spit-wet finger goes back to between my legs and he rubs my clit again. My eyes clench shut as an unwanted wave of pleasure washes over me and if I could moan right now, I know that I would be biting it back. His wet finger moves up and down over me and he knows exactly how hard to rub and where to touch. I feel my breath stutter in my chest and I want nothing more than to push him away, to make him stop.

“Little bird, I can feel you getting wet,” he purrs at me and I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to block it out. “I’m going to take such good care of this pretty pussy,” he says as he gently slides a finger inside of me. I’m so wet now that there’s no resistance at all, and my relaxed body only helps him breech me.

He adds a second finger and suddenly, I feel the hot touch of a mouth on my clit. It’s unbearable, the forced pleasure permeating every single sense and nerve, the paralytic erasing every possible outlet I could have to soothe the sharp, overwhelming blanket of unwanted bliss. I can’t clench my legs, can’t roll my hips, arch my back, or even make a single sound. It’s torture.

His mouth and fingers work at me relentlessly and I can feel an orgasm building up. Except my body can’t respond to it, my pussy can’t tense and contract, there’s nothing to soften the rush of pleasure that slams into me. Tears are streaming down my face as my orgasm takes my breath away, the unimaginable pleasure shooting through me with no physical outlet. It makes my entire being go hazy, my breathing quickening as much as it could with my body in this state.

He doesn’t stop when I cum. His fingers continue to slide into me, curling upwards to hit my g-spot with painstaking accuracy. He lifts his mouth from my clit and flashes me a devious smile, “I told you I’d take good care of you. And fuck, you taste so fucking good, little bird. I could do this all day.”

His lips seal around my clit again, sucking, flicking, licking. I’m trapped in my body, trapped in this unbearable pleasure, as he wrings another orgasm out of my helpless body. Finally, he pulls back, sliding his fingers out of my dripping pussy. He sits back on his heels and looks down at me, triumph and satisfaction making him look like a king surveying his conquest.

He slides off the bed but stays in my field of vision as he begins to strip, every article of clothing removed revealing his attractive form. When his pants and underwear come off, I see his long, hard cock jut out, tip already dripping with pre-cum. I want to beg him to stop, tell him that I can’t take anymore but I can’t. I can only watch as he stalks toward me, crawling onto the bed and settling between my legs again.

He’s on his knees, towering over me as he strokes his cock languidly. “I’m going to make you fall apart on my cock, and make you take every single inch in that tight fucking cunt of yours. You are going to be mine, little bird.”

He moves my legs from where they’ve been spread wide, moving them to press both against my chest, leaving my pussy exposed and open for him. I feel the head of his cock push against my pussy and I close my eyes, trying to will myself away from this.

He laughs, “You can’t hide from me, you know that.” His body moves as he slides his cock into me. He’s gentle, slowly feeding an inch at a time, giving my lax body time to adjust to his massive size. I want to thrash and writhe, the feeling of his cock filling me so completely takes my breath away and it feels so fucking good I want to crawl out of my skin.

He lets out a low groan, cursing under his breath as he finally sinks all the way into me. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good, your cunt was made for me.”

Then, he fucks me. His hips slam into me without remorse, every thrust making my body jolt, his grip on my legs and hips the only things keeping me in place. My eyes roll back into my head as the pleasure overwhelms me.

Every thrust slams into my cervix, the pain-tinged pleasure makes me want to scream, to do anything to relieve this mind-melting, all-encompassing feeling. His movements are relentless, each one punctuated by the sound of his pleasure-filled groans. The sound of my pussy’s wetness fills the room, along with our skin slapping together, creating a cacophony of lewd noise.

“Fuck, little bird, I’m going to cum in your tight cunt. I’m going to mark you as mine from the inside,” he growls, his grip on me tight as his hips speed up. Waves of pleasure crash through me and I want to claw myself out of my physical form. I can’t cope with the pleasure shooting through every nerve with nowhere to go.

His hips stutter against mine and I hear his voice rasp out a drawn-out moan as he cums inside of me. He lets my legs down gently, taking care not to strain me as he leans over me. “Fuck, next time I do this, I want you writhing underneath me in pleasure,” he says, voice breathless. I can only stare back at him in response.

He pulls away from me, the feeling of his cock leaving my pussy sending tingles down my spine. He looks at me, his cum dripping out of my cunt and he smiles. “Don’t worry, we’re not done yet.” His words push a stab of anguish into me. What more can he do to me? I can’t handle any more.

He climbs off the bed and steps out of my line of sight. When he comes back, he’s holding a horribly mean-looking vibrator. My eyes widen and I blink frantically, my mind screaming at him to please stop. He can’t hear me but he wouldn’t listen to me even if I could verbalize my pleading.

He smiles and spreads my legs apart again, leaving me exposed and I hear the wretched sound of the vibrator fill the room. There’s no gentle touch, no softness that comes to soothe me, just the horrible, nerve-shattering press of the vibrator against my clit.

My mind breaks. The pleasure explodes out of me but every single muscle of my body stays relaxed, amplifying the unimaginable feeling. There’s nothing to dampen it, no clenching of my legs to make it any better, no cries, moans, whimpers, and screams leaving my throat to distract me. Just the vibrator destroying me.

My orgasm rips through me and he doesn’t relent. Moments later, another orgasm makes my every nerve combust and he only grounds the vibrator harder against me. The next one makes my vision go white and my brain shuts down any higher function and leaves me a shell only capable of experiencing the torturous pleasure. The last orgasm rips through me and tears through my consciousness and my world fades to black.

—

I wake up to a darkened room, clearly a few hours since I passed out, judging by the dusky sunset peeking in through the windows. I’m raw, destroyed, shattered. I desperately will my body to move and I feel my heart jump when my fingers twitch against the bed. My eyes dart around the room, taking in the lack of his presence, and for the first time, I feel hope beat in my chest.

And then, I hear footsteps and see him walk into view. My heart sinks. He’s holding another syringe and he smiles at me. “I see you’re awake, I hope you had a good nap.”

I desperately try to force my body to move but all I get is another pathetic twitch of my fingers. His gaze zeros onto it and he smirks. “Looks like you need a second dose, little bird.”

I want to scream, to beg, to do anything to put up a fight but there’s nothing that can be done. He comes up to the bed and with gentle fingers, pushes the syringe into my hip and presses the plunger down. Tears drip out of my eyes as I fight against my paralyzed body, my fingers still twitching desperately.

A few moments later, even that movement leaves me. He brushes my hair off my forehead and leans down to press a long kiss against my head. “You’re mine forever now, little bird.”

--

Note: This concept is so hot to me and when I saw a clip of the movie's premise, I knew I had to write this! Hope y'all enjoy! <3