#this is a little break from the main edit I’ve been working on

[r0b1ee]

Needed to make something silly or I’d explode

[wisteria-blooms]

P A R A D I S E // P O T I O N S!

PAIRING: Bill Weasley & You  WARNINGS: smut!! so much smut!!, oral (giving, receiving), piv, sex pollen trope, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, creampies, all the makings of a bad porn plot **MINORS DNI** SUMMARY: As per Percy’s recommendation to his mother, you’re tasked to house-sit the Burrow while the family is away for the Quidditch World Cup. You’re Percy's closest friend and much like him, you are more than wary of his mischievous twin brothers, Fred and George. But what if their machinations lead you to something you’ve always dreamt of coming true? (8.0k words)

A/N: Been going through a bit of writer’s block recently, so hopefully a load of debauchery (as big as Bill's) breaks down that wall. I’ve been mad at how my sentences are coming out—they sound so redundant and boring. Also, I’m not great at editing my smut scenes because I get embarrassed reading them, so enjoy at your own risk. ;)

PARADISE POTIONS!

There was an undeniable feeling of late summer that nestled in the morning air, a pleasant marriage of warmth and wind. As you trekked up a tall, grassy hill, you breathed it all in. You were in disbelief that August had snuck up on you so suddenly. That meant only two weeks left of freedom before you were confined to a cubicle in the Ministry of Magic, wasting your life away.

‘It won’t be so bad’, you reminded yourself. After all, Percy Weasley would be there alongside you in the same department. He was your most supportive and reliable friend, contrary to popular opinion. And it’d been him that pitched the idea that you house sit the Burrow while he and his family were away at the Quidditch World Cup. Apparently, he’d told Molly that you were mature, responsible, and ‘very much like him.’ You had to tease him about the compliment he threw in about himself. 

Molly would provide you room and board for the next week. Your tasks mainly included upkeep of the garden, feeding the animals, and ensuring the home didn’t seem completely empty as the whole family vacationed. Molly simply hated to keep an empty house. 

“Good morning, Perce!” you greeted with a wave when you reached the tip of the hill.

He waved back from the main entrance. Then, he motioned for your luggage. 

“How was your journey?”

“Uneventful,” you affirmed. “Though the walk up was great exercise. I feel very much awake now.”

“It’s quite the trek,” he agreed.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the orientation at the Ministry we had last week,” you gushed. “I’m so excited to start work.”

“Me too,” Percy agreed with a nod. 

“Mum would like to have you in for a spot of breakfast,” Percy said.

“I’d be delighted.” You heard excellent things about Molly Weasley’s breakfasts. 

Percy held the door open for you. The windchimes sounded from above you, signaling your entrance. You brushed past a fluttery overhead curtain. When the material unveiled itself, you came face to face with a long dining table. There were only six occupants: Ginny, Ron, the infamous Harry Potter, Hermione, Charlie, and Bill. You gave a small wave to the younger kids. They nodded wordlessly. You reckoned that in their eyes, any friend of Percy’s must be some masochist deviant. 

To the side, Arthur was chatting with who you supposed was Amos Diggory, combing through their plans. 

“Good morning, (Y/N) dear,” Molly greeted. You were glad she thought of you just as prim and proper and organized as her third-eldest son. 

You took a seat with Percy. He sat where his newspaper and coffee mug laid, right in front of Charlie. With a nervous smile, you sat to his right and…

Your eyes immediately landed on Bill. He was Percy’s eldest brother, and by far the most handsome. You were embarrassed to admit that you’d always fancied him. Not in the soul-crushing-adult-love kind of way, but in a silly schoolgirl way. He was so tall, so subtly muscly from sports. And he was a little more fun than Percy, though you’d never tell him that. 

But given that you were so young, there was no viable chance of anything happening. So, you chose to admire him from afar in the two years you overlapped schooling. You were now eighteen like Percy, but you maintained the fact Bill still saw you as a child, nothing else. It was an infatuation that would hurt no one, so you just let it be. 

“Good morning, (Y/N).”

You suppressed a smile as he acknowledged you. 

“Good morning, Bill.”

“Good morning, (Y/N),” sang Charlie. 

You smiled. “Hi, Charlie.” Charlie was quite the handful. You preferred Bill’s calmness than Charlie’s calamity. 

“I see it’s you who was tasked with watching our house,” Bill said. “I couldn’t have chosen better myself.”

“Thank you, Bill.” That compliment was going into your pocket for a rainy day. 

Bill was still ever so handsome, appearances aging like fine wine, with his soft ginger locks that framed his sharp cheekbones. His blue eyes glinted in the morning sun. You peeked at his chiselled jaw and his—dare you say—kissable lips. His t-shirt barely hid the muscles in his arms. He might’ve been tall and predisposed to being lankier compared to Charlie, but you knew he had his own ways to keep fit. 

You were so busy being entranced by Bill that you’d lost track of time and space. All you knew was that it was the best morning ever, sitting in front of him, surrounded by faint windchimes and the chirping birds outside to the window. Breakfast hadn’t even been served and you were already salivating thinking about Bill doing push-ups under the hot Egyptian sun, and that wasn’t even that deep in the gutter where most of your thoughts laid, in fact—

Suddenly, a large explosion reverberated through the house and shook the table. It jolted you and Percy. You yelped and ducked. When you regained your sense of place, you looked up. No one else besides you and Percy were fazed. 

“What was that?” you asked Percy, trying to settle your heart. 

“Fred! George!” Molly cried, walking over to the stairs with her spatula still in hand. “What have I told you about your experiments?”

“Sorry, mum,” George said, running down the stairs, a smidge of ash on his face. “That’s it for today, I promise.”

“I don’t want to hear this again, ever!” Molly shrieked. Then, she calmed down when she realised she was in front of guests. “Well, if that’s it, then help out a little bit, won’t you? We have to get going in less than an hour.”

“Sure thing,” George said with a smile. He ran over to the table and to the coffee pot. He gave it a jiggle, letting the remaining liquid slosh around. “Anyone need a top up of their coffee?”

“Mum made that pot, you can trust it,” Percy advised.

“Thank you,” you whispered back, and then looked up at George, “I wouldn’t mind a cup.”

George sauntered over and poured you a cup. “Coffee, Bill?” he asked. 

“That sounds good,” Bill responded.

“You’ll have to wait another ten minutes then,” George said with a frown. He tapped the empty glass container. “I’ve just run out. If only (Y/N) didn’t drink for two.”

“Quit it,” Percy warned his brother with a low tone. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. You were about to offer Bill your cup when Percy held out a hand to stop you. 

“Keep it,” Percy countered as she shoved the white mug back to your side. “I wouldn’t trust anything they put out. I’m glad it’s you that took the last of what mum made.”

You kept your voice quiet and giggled. “I hope Bill has an iron stomach, then.”

Percy nodded. 

While Percy could be harsh on his siblings, you were grateful for his looking out for you. To be fair, you were also skittish around Fred and George. They weren’t as easy to read as other people. A friendly smile often meant something sinister. 

“Would anyone like some liqueur in your morning beverage?” Fred asked, skipping three steps as he ran down the stairs. He reached underneath his coat as if selling contraband. “I have whatever tickles your fancy. In fact, Georgie and I have been working on something we reckon will be extremely profitable.”

Molly shot him a glare. You shook your head politely. 

“Don’t feel like you have to respond to his foolishness,” advised Percy. “He doesn’t deserve your time of day.”

“Loosen up, (Y/N),” Fred commanded. “If you hang around Percy all day and refuse any fun, you’ll both die virgins.”

You went beet red immediately. It was a shade that rivalled Percy’s in speed and depth. You prayed that Bill wasn’t paying attention to you. 

“That is ENOUGH!” bellowed Molly who whipped around so quickly that she nearly decapitated George with her wooden spoon. She’d reached her boiling point. “I won’t have you ruining our morning with your distasteful conversations, especially with all our guests presents.” She charged over to Fred and handed him a stack of plates. “Go on, make yourself useful and set the table.”

“(Y/N), darling,” Molly said, her sudden change in tone a little frightening. “I’ve cleared out Bill’s old room for you. Since he’s heading back to Egypt right after the World Cup, he’ll share Charlie’s room for the time for the last night. There are fresh sheets and towels and a change of clothes if you need. You are welcome to use the bath right next to the room.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Fred’s comment about your virginity went through one of Molly’s ears and out the other. Thank Merlin. 

“Coffee’s ready, dear brother,” George sang. “How do you take it?”

“Just black,” Bill responded. “Thank you, George.”

You peered at Bill through a sip of coffee. Your heart fluttered again. Summers were really the best. It was the only chance to see him again for a flicker of time, an hour or two, before he travelled halfway across the world again. In this case, in a week. As the meal went on, you stared at him so intently during breakfast that your fork speared your cheek instead of your mouth multiple times.

When breakfast concluded, you assured Molly that you’d take care of the dishes and ushered her to the door.

“I hope you have a nice time,” you said to Ron and his friends. He mumbled a thanks. You smiled at him, happy that you were making some progress with Percy’s younger brother. Your peace was ruined by Fred and George murmuring amongst themselves excitedly. You hoped it was about the World Cup and nothing else. 

Arthur was doing a routine headcount when he asked: “Where’s Bill?”

“He said he had some emergency work to finish up for the bank,” Charlie said. “Keep the portkey open for him for another hour, and he’ll be sure to make it by then.”

“If you need anything,” Percy said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You know where to find me.”

You nodded.

After the Weasleys left, you locked the door and headed back into the house. Knowing Bill was upstairs working, you got to tidying the kitchen in the quietest manner you could. You hoped the running water and the occasional clinking of dishes wasn’t bothering him. It would be really embarrassing if he came down to complain about the noise. 

After the kitchen was cleaned, you went outside to trim the shrubs, water the plants, and feed the cows. You forced yourself not to peek at the front door to see if Bill had left. He probably had, and it hurt a bit that he’d gone without saying goodbye. 

The temperature had risen dramatically since you arrived in the morning, and by the time you were done, you were a sweaty mess. Bill had likely gone which meant you’d have the house to yourself. You caved into the idea of a long bath to wipe the mud and grime off your body. You dashed up to the main washroom Molly offered you and began running the water. 

When you were finished with your bath, you wrapped a clean towel around you and proceeded to your room. Maybe you could do some reading and take a nap before deciding on dinner, Your chest tingled when you realised it was Bill’s old room—how lucky were you?  The first thing you noticed when you entered was that Bill’s room was clean and sparse. Molly had left a window cracked open to allow for a gentle breeze, and placed your clothes on the bed. You took a couple steps forward and let your towel drop on the floor to reach for your tank top when suddenly…

Your hand met a tuft of hair. Hair that was attached to a pale, sweaty head. 

You screamed as you tumbled back, your bare bum hitting the wooden floor. Oh, where the heck was your wand when you needed it? You grabbed a pair of slippers in self-defence. 

“Who’s there?” you said in the bravest voice you could muster. “You need to get out of here, now!”

The thing in the bed just groaned weakly. You saw a pale, shaking arm stick out of the covers. Whatever it was, it was at least human, hopefully. 

Your hand grappled the top of the desk for your wand. Once you found it, you rose cautiously from the floor with the intent to peel away the covers. You’d dealt with Boggarts; you’d seen your worst nightmares in person. You treaded cautiously because the creature could rise at any moment. But it didn’t, forcing you to get closer. 

Your heart almost stopped when your hands grasped the hem of the covers. Your life flashed before your eyes. You needed to survive. You needed to live to work with Percy at the Ministry come September. You needed to live for your family. You needed to live for the off chance Bill Weasley shared the same feelings as you—oh, you were about to die, what was the point of thinking about Bill?

With your wand in an offensive position, you ripped the sheets off. 

But there was nothing.

Nothing at all.

What?

It took you a few seconds to process it, but this… thing wasn’t a creature at all. In fact, it was Bill Weasley. Well, an apparition of him of sorts. He looked extremely pale and sickly, his skin the shade of paper. His ginger hair stuck to his face, his sweat binding it like it was wet glue. There was an intense warmth radiating from his skin, and his body jostled slightly as the cold air hit him.

“Bill? You called out in complete disbelief. “Are—are you okay?”

He groaned in response. Slowly, he turned his head towards you. He looked even worse up close, or as worse as Bill Weasley could possibly look. His eyebrows were intensely furrowed, his breathing laboured, and he could barely open those pretty eyes of his—oh, not this again! Bill looked to be on death’s bed and all you were thinking about was how handsome he was. 

“I don’t know what happened,” Bill breathed out. His voice was a mere rasp. “I was feeling fine this morning. I can hardly get up now. And I can’t talk,” he coughed as if to prove a point, “above a whisper.”

“Are you running a fever?” you inquired, concern thick in your voice. 

“No, I don’t think—,” Bill mustered the strength to open his eyes. He looked startled. “(Y/N)?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Where…”

You looked at Bill intently.

“Where are your clothes?”

“Huh?”

You looked down. Your mouth went slack. You were barer than the day you were born. 

“Shit!” you exclaimed. “I’m sorry, don’t look, don’t look, sorry, sorry!” So caught up in the heat of things, you’d haphazardly abandoned your towel in exchange for your life. You scampered back to retrieve it and tied it back on yourself. When you looked up, Bill was, fortunately, turned away, and only a sliver of his naked back was visible to you. 

“Is there anything I can help with?” you asked in a state of panic. ‘Besides giving you a show?’ On the inside, you had to laugh at the thought of a striptease benefiting Bill’s health.

Bill was looking worse for wear with every passing second, and you were just prancing around without clothes. “Your mother keeps potions in the cabinet, doesn’t she? I’ll go find an antipyretic--”

Bill swiped at his forehead with his palm. “I don’t think it’s a fever, well, to the best of my knowledge.”

“Then perhaps some water?” you offered. “Or some soup?”

“(Y/N),” Bill called. Your name rolled off like velvet from his lips. “Come here, please.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart was beating erratically and whether it was out of fear or anticipation, you didn’t know. Still, you complied and began walking over. The floor felt like pricks underneath your feet. 

“Could you please take these sheets off?” Bill asked. “I might try to cool down.”

You nodded. “S-sure.” You pinched the hem of the bedsheet with your forefinger and thumb and carefully stripped the sheet off. Every second that passed unveiled a new, delicious sight: Bill’s toned chest, the crevice between his chest and abdominal muscles, the veins running down his forearms, and the shapely twin creases that led straight down to his briefs. A chill of disappointment ran through your body when you realised he was still clothed. 

‘Stay focussed’, you pleaded with yourself. You were here to help Bill, not to take advantage of him.

“Is that better?” you asked Bill, but your eyes weren’t on his face. They were instead fixated on the centre of his body and namely, the very present bulge at the apex of his black briefs. His manhood had tented so viciously that it stretched the black fabric until it was translucent. Was that a spot of pink flesh or were you just seeing things? You gulped and tried to reign in your imagination. 

Bill breathed out as the cool air kissed his skin. “Marginally.”

“I can bring the fan inside the room,” you suggested so quickly you almost toppled off the bed. 

“Wait.” Bill’s hand grabbed your wrist before you could get anywhere. Your skin scorched. “Can you help me with one more thing?”

You were about to explode. “Sure, Bill.” 

“Could you help me remove my briefs too?”

Your jaw had, at this point, permanently detached from your face. “What?”

“Just one last thing and my temperature should regulate itself.”

Was stripping really a remedy to Bill’s ailment? Shaking your head, you decided to help him in any way possible before running back to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face to ascertain that you weren’t dreaming. This definitely had to be a dream. Today probably hadn’t even started yet. Any minute now, your alarm would ring and you would wake up so disappointed. 

“Alright.”

Slowly, you hooked your fingers underneath the elastic waistband of Bill’s briefs. His blue eyes fluttered close and his face twisted in relief. You suppressed a groan at the sight of Bill like this, pleasured by your every touch.

You’d never admit that Fred was right in his observation this morning, but it was true that you’d never seen a… penis in the flesh. But there was no turning away now as your hands worked to expose every inch of pink flesh hiding underneath Bill’s undergarments. It was deliciously lewd, the way his long cock sprang out from the confines of his boxers and nearly slapping you in the face. A tad closer, and the appendage would’ve swiped your cheek. Just inches in front you pulsed a swelling, oozing pink tip that was connected to a thick shaft that only seemed to grow slightly in girth as you stripped him. 

You had nothing but anatomical pictures and the circumference of your wrist to compare him to, but even you knew he was bigger than average. Bill had, truly, the prettiest cock to ever exist. Pale, smooth, pink, but an angrier shade coloured the head. He was thick, but even thicker near the base. Veins painted his manhood like art. You almost had to wonder how he’d feel inside you, splitting your virgin pussy open. It would kill you.

Holy shit. You had to stop thinking, because you were getting yourself wet. 

Bill raised his hips up to help you bring the last bit of his briefs down from underneath him. Your hand grazed the back of his thigh. The unintended action elicited a not-so-subtle moan from Bill. 

“I’m sorry, I—,” Bill said, pushing himself up on the bed. His neck was flushed crimson and his breathing heavy. You had plummeted into the ocean with the saltwater flooding your ears; you could barely hear. You gulped as a bead of wetness suddenly spurted out of the tip of his cock and threatened to run down the length of it. “I reckon I was cursed or hexed by someone,” he surmised. “It’s not like me to require such things of you, or anyone for that matter.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. Your hand was turning white with the deathgrip on your towel. “But Bill, did that… help?”

The smartest thing to do was to remove yourself from this conversation and call for help, but you kept pressing the topic. You planted your palms on the mattress and looked on in awe. Bill was well-endowed beyond your wildest dreams. You couldn’t stop admiring him.

Forgetting he was naked, Bill sat up. His cock curled closer to his navel as a result. “What?”

You ripped your eyes away from the bead of precum that’d captivated your attention. “When we touched. It seemed to bring some colour to your face.”

“Come to think of it, I reckon it did, yeah,” Bill responded. He furrowed his brows, his words dying on his lips. There was only one direction this conversation was going to go and you had steered it off the overpass and down the cliff. 

You spoke up first. “Have you tried touching…”

“Myself?” Bill finished with a chuckle.

You blushed. “Yes, well,” you countered. “It’s not entirely unreasonable, and—”

“I have.”

You tilted your head. “And?”

Bill attempted to lift his hands, but they gravitated down to the bed. “Well, I’ve… tried,” he admitted sheepishly, “but it’s made it worse.” He chuckled and shook his head at the state he was in. “And now I can’t even manage to move my arm.”

“Oh.” You frowned. “But when I touched you, you felt better?”

Bill blew out some air which tickled the wet hair on his forehead. He gestured to his raging erection. “Can you… would you mind? You’re right, it might help.”

Would you mind?

Of course you wouldn’t. 

“I’ve never, erm,” you countered. A blaze of heat rushed to your cheeks. You didn’t want to admit to Bill that Fred was right when he clocked you as a virgin, though it didn’t take a deep understanding of your person to come to that conclusion. You and Percy both looked down on dalliances as prefects back in school, even busting students in the act and sending them to be reprimanded. You reckoned Bill was going to find it uncool but it was better to be truthful. “I’ve never done this with anyone.”

He chuckled. “I figured.”

You wanted to shrivel up and die. 

“But it’s absolutely fine,” Bill correctly quickly, knowing he’d offended you slightly. “You don’t need to have done it to know how to do it. I’ll guide you.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

He did his best to motion to the base of him with his hands. “Grip me firmly down here.” 

You obliged, holding him at the base with your right hand as you clutched your towel in the other. For an usually flaccid body part, Bill was very, very hard and warm. All the blood in his body was concentrated into one area, so it made sense. You were grateful when your thumb still managed to touch the tips of your fingers because, well, he was quite big and you weren’t confident he was going to fit in your hand. 

“Move up and down,” Bill instructed in between heavy pants. You nodded. When you started shifting your hand from the base to the head and back, he let out a low groan. His skin felt like velvet in your hands; he felt so good. “Yeah, just like that.” Precum dribbled from Bill and onto from the side of your fingers as you moved faster and covered more ground. Bill’s eyes alternated from open to close in erratic intervals as you began to adjust your speed and the tightness of your fingers around him. When Bill stopped talking, you reckoned you were doing a pretty damn good job. 

Bill was powerless underneath you and you relinquished the feeling. But you wanted more. 

So, you shifted from the edge of the bed towards the end of it, squeezing yourself in between his long legs. You never took your hands off him in the process so Bill was none the wiser about your mischievous movements. So, it was only when Bill heard the creaking of the bed that he looked up in surprise. By then, it was too late. You had already stopped pumping his shaft and leaned in to inhale the sweet musk instead.

“Can I?” you asked, batting your eyelashes.

Bill inhaled sharply, his cock duking out his brain for once the last shred of modesty. Oh, fuck modesty. “Only if you want to.”

In one swift motion, you leaned in and kissed the red and leaking tip. Clearly, it was you who really wanted to do this. When the soft skin of your lips met the soft skin of his head, Bill let out an audible gasp that was immediately swallowed by a throaty moan. He was not expecting you to be so brazen, so generous in your help. Little did he know you’d do anything for him at this point, his own affliction long forgotten. 

“How does that feel?” you asked.

“Amazing,” he rasped.

You licked the precum—salty, a little tingly, you noted—off his slit with the tip of your tongue. He tasted so good. Bill threw his head back. The ridges of his abs crinkled as he tried to hold himself upright with his elbows on the bed. He wanted to see you. You smacked your lips, unable to wait patiently to devour your meal. Then, in a moment of pure deviousness and sheer horniness, you enveloped Bill’s tip around your mouth.

“Shit!” 

This was the last thing Bill said before he fell back onto the bed. You took that as a sign of surrender; what you were doing felt too good for him to keep his defences up. He’d long stopped giving you instructions and let you take reign. Emboldened, you licked the slit with your tongue with Bill still nestled in your mouth. You then began to take him in further, as far as you could before he reached a natural stopping point at the back of your throat. Your mouth tensed—he was too big to fit comfortably inside. You sucked in your cheeks, hypothesising that a tighter fit would feel better for Bill. Sure, you were inexperienced, but you weren’t stupid or ignorant on the subject of what was pleasurable. 

“Yes, that’s it, (Y/N), just like that.”

You forewent your towel in favour of holding onto Bill’s thighs, placing one hand on the side of each of his legs. Still, you pressed your breasts down on the bed to hide your nipples to preserve what little was left for Bill to still see. Then again, what was the point of dignity when his dick was in your mouth?

Bill’s hands quietly crept along the bedsheets and floated towards your head. From there, his long fingers wove and nestled themselves in your hair so deeply that it wouldn’t be easy for you to untangle yourself. Clever of him. His fingernails glided across your scalp, slowly, tenderly, like a predator circling their prey before the attack. Bill then started guiding your head up and down slowly, his patience clearly wearing thin and needing to take matters into his own hands--literally. 

“Feeling okay?” he asked.

You nodded, unable to speak. Bill noted this and chuckled. You gave him a pointed look. 

“Hard to look intimidating with my cock in your mouth, love,” he said, tightening his fingers around your hair. You grumbled something unintelligible. The wetness leaking out of your core spoke volumes for you. 

Bill’s hands were fully entangled in your hair as he continued to lift you up and down. Slow at first, but he could hardly contain himself after the first minute. The way his big cock pulsed in your mouth, gods… The faster he commanded you to move, the more his visage grew streaked from the tears in your eyes. You tightened your grip on his thighs every time his cock glided across your palate and pushed itself down your throat. You did everything in your power to not gag or choke, but when he did strike particularly deep, you pulled off of him immediately. 

“I’m sorry,” Bill quickly said. “Was that too much?”

You shook your head, wiped a wet line of tears from your face, coughed, and responded, “No, I’m fine.”

You crawled back to him and engulfed him without another word.

“Ah,” Bill breathed out. “Fuck, (Y/N). You feel so good.”

You shouldn’t be enjoying being used so much, but you loved it. Loved it especially when Bill held you in place and began thrusting into your mouth instead as a means to conserve effort and increase his speed. You were growing wetter and wetter with every compliment he spoke. You imagined Bill’s big hands gripping your hips, stilling you, as he thrust repeatedly into your pussy. You wanted to be used everywhere. 

“Shit,” he growled, lazy eyes hovering on you. Deliciously lazy and so hazy. “I’m close.”

He stopped thrusting, but you hadn’t stopped bobbing your head up and down. You were so far gone in your quest to make Bill come that you’d thrown your own needs aside. 

“Hold on, (Y/N),” Bill commanded. “Don’t you want to—ah—!”

You knew he’d reached his climax when his hips ascended and stilled above the bed. A deep moan left his mouth. Bill’s cock twitched heavily with every rope of cum that shot its way into your mouth. He didn’t quit until every crevice of your mouth was sloshing with his seed; he was a never-ending faucet of cum. 

After a minute, you finally detached yourself from him, careful to keep the fruits of your labour in your mouth and not on the bed sheets that Bill’s mother had laundered so well. You swallowed all the cum in your mouth. It wasn’t as pleasant as the books and films had made it out to be—it was warm and slightly bitter, but it was Bill’s and heaven knew you’d do anything for him.

Bill threw himself back on the bed, his head meeting the pillow with a soft thud. He was still breathing heavily as he reposed. Though his hair stuck wildly to his cheeks—which were slowly regaining colour—his face expressed newfound calm. 

Bill patted the pillow beside him, on the spot in between the wall and his body. “Come here,” he rasped, his eyes still closed. 

You obliged and scooted upwards. Bill splayed his arm on the pillow to give you a makeshift headrest. You settled into the nook of his bicep. Through the corner of your eye, you stole little glances at Bill and the rise and fall of his chest. A warm, midday breeze fluttered through the open windows, the red curtains billowing out. Everything was so serene, so tranquil, so…Holy shit, what had you just done? 

Just three hours ago, you were wistfully staring at Bill at breakfast, grateful to have seen him at all this year to feed your starving crush on him. Now, you were laying naked in his bed with him after giving him what you hoped was an acceptable blowjob. It was both great and terrible that you wouldn’t see him after today. How would you explain this to anyone if you couldn’t even believe it yourself? You needed to bolt and never see Bill again. 

Bill snapped you out of your trance. “(Y/N)?” 

“Yes, Bill?”

You turned around to find yourself reflected in his crystal blue eyes. 

“Would you like to finish, too?”

“Oh, uhm!” Well, you hadn’t expected him to ask you that. “No, I’m okay.” An utter lie. Your pussy was pleading to be fucked. You sat up, preparing yourself to go. “I should finish up with my chores. You should get going before the portkey closes.” 

Bill grasped your wrist again. “I don’t want to go.” He sat up with you and looked you straight in the eye. 

He was serious. The intensity of his gaze was so overwhelming that you looked down. You sucked a quiet breath in. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he said, placing a hand on your cheek. “Let me, please.”

You choked. Was Bill Weasley begging to go down on you? The resolute look on his face definitely extinguished any fight you had left in you. A fraction of a second after you nodded, Bill turned you over and kissed you. One hand remained on your cheek while the other wrapped itself around your naked waist to pull you closer until your chest was flush against his. If you weren’t focussed on how hard his lips were pressed on yours, you would’ve been more embarrassed about how your pert nipples were pressed against his chest. Bill obviously didn’t mind, in fact, he was trying to pull you in as close as possible, closing the last sliver of space between your bodies. 

Bill tilted his head to deepen the kiss. His lips felt like hard silk—a walking contradiction— against you and now you wished to feel them everywhere: on your neck, on your breasts, on your stomach and in between your legs. You reckoned he should kiss heavily in between your legs. 

Bill was all lean muscle and long limbs. He couldn’t splay out on the bed as easily as you could. He landed on his knees, then shifted you upwards until your head was resting against the baseboard of the bed. He spread your legs with his hands—so big that they absolutely swallowed you—using his thumb as anchors. 

He looked back up at you. His eyes had darkened significantly, like a sudden storm that had broken through a clear day. Whatever drug was flowing through his veins, it was only growing more potent. “You’re so wet.” 

You made an attempt to shut your legs. You were cycling through moments of confidence and embarrassment, and his words made you want to curl up and die.

“Don’t,” Bill said. “You turn me on so much. Who knew that behind such an innocent facade was a girl begging to be fucked?”

And just like that, your legs fell open in one buttery smooth motion. 

”That’s it, such a good girl for me,” Bill praised. He leaned in and ran his tongue flat over your folds. You squirmed but his iron-clad hold on you prohibited any movement. You tried so very hard to quiet yourself as his tongue painted you in oscillating strokes. You gasped whenever he landed briefly on your clitoris. He hummed, pleased, and let the vibrations rock your body. Your breathing was dangerously unsteady as Bill pulled you closer to him and increased the intensity of his tongue. He unlatched one hand from your thigh and shifted them near your drooling entrance. Gently, he inserted a finger. Before you could jump upwards at the intrusion, he brought his tongue back to your clit to massage away any pain. “So sweet,” he hummed again. Bill kept his finger steady inside you until your squirming stopped. 

“You’re so tight,” Bill whispered. He added another finger to your already taut hole. “I can barely fit two fingers in here. How do you suppose you’ll take my cock, hm?” 

A rhetorical question. Instead of waiting for an answer, Bill began moving his fingers back and forth. You let out a small whine that you buried into the pillow. “Sh, it’s okay, just relax, darling,” Bill assured. In a matter of moments, Bill had gone from shallow little thrusts to burying his fingers to the hilt. The motion of his fingers curling inside you elicited a load moan from your lips, and your legs parted further in response. It was over when his stupid tongue found its way back to your clit; you nearly screamed. He flicked your sensitive bud over and over, building the pressure in the region. Between that, and Bill’s face buried between your legs and the wet sounds of his fingers inside you, you were just one thrust away from coming undone.

“Bill, Bill—” you tried to stop him, too scared to be thrown over the edge. But Bill showed no sign of stopping. When he sucked on your clit, you knew it was over. He had pushed you off the cliff. “Bill!” 

You clamped down on his hand, but Bill hadn’t stopped moving; he was intending to fuck you through it. Waves of pleasure, sweetly punctuated by Bill’s nimble fingers, washed over you until you had no coherent thought left. You laid there for a minute, until your heart rate had finally settled back to normal. 

“I’m getting impatient,” Bill chuckled. “Seeing you writhe around like that, coming on all over my hand, Merlin..”

You tightened your lips. “Me too.”

“What was that?” he teased, pretending not to hear. 

“I’m getting impatient.”

“For what?”

“You know what for.”

He shot you a cocky grin. “I won’t know until you tell me.”

“Fuck me, Bill,” you almost screamed. “Fuck me, please.” It was killing you. You looked down at Bill’s manhood. He looked even harder and fuller than how you found him, if that were even possible. His cock twitched to stand at full attention when you shuffled back to him. You wanted to feel him, so warm and engorged, inside you, splitting you open with how big he was. 

“You’re so needy, (Y/N),” Bill teased. He laid down. “Get on top of me, I want to see you.” 

You clambered over immediately. You splayed a leg on each side of him and propped yourself up with your knees. Wordlessly, Bill pulled you in and your body listened. He met your lips for another kiss that showed no signs of being broken. Well, not until he decided to latch onto one of your nipples instead. His lips covered the circumference of your areola and sucked gently. 

“Bill,” you whimpered, succumbing once again to his dexterous tongue. He swirled around your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth, and sending little electric shocks down to your toes. You were getting so, so wet for him.

One of Bill’s hands trailed down to his cock and gave it a couple of strokes before he aimed it towards your core. You moaned every time he pressed against your throbbing clit before moving back to your opening and repeating the motion. You needed to come again, and Bill was intent on bringing you there. He rubbed the head back and forth, concentrating the slick to where he eventually wanted to be. He was showing great restraint; it was taking everything not to just thrust into you. 

“You already feel so good,” he praised. “So wet, so tight, love, all for me. I can’t wait to fuck this tight pussy.”

Bill piled on the words and continued to ravish your breasts as a distraction of what was to come. The head of his cock was directly aligned with your opening that was weeping at the thought of him inside you. But the largest thing you’d taken ever were Bill’s fingers; he couldn’t possibly fit without absolutely destroying you. The universe couldn’t have gifted you with a warm-up, could it? Instead, it gifted you the girth of Bill. Still, you remained in place, readying yourself as he began to enter you. 

You gasped at the first intrusion. You clenched Bill’s forearms in retaliation, your mouth parting in shock. You wanted him badly, but your anatomy wasn’t letting your desires take the front seat. 

Bill placed a hand on your back. Stiff. “You’re tense,” he noted, kissing up on your neck. “Just relax. It’ll feel good, I promise.” You nodded, trusting him. 

“Hngh—!” was all you let out when he pushed deeper. Your breathing fell out of sync as you tried to calm yourself. Maybe this was it, and all of him was already inside of it. 

“That’s just my head inside you, love,” Bill stated, as if reading your mind.  

You paled. “How are you so big?”

Bill chuckled in agreement before swallowing you in a kiss. His tongue found its way into your mouth, and you could taste the pure need radiating off him. He gave little shallow thrusts, trying to ease himself into you. Though it still burned heavily, a ring of pain, as he stretched you out, Bill’s pace was making it much more tolerable and frankly, more erotic. 

When he was halfway in, Bill’s eyes fell shut in utter bliss. His hands gripped your ass cheeks, pulling them apart, as if it would help you sink further down on him. 

“You take me so well,” he said as he continued impaling your poor little pussy. He never stopped littering you with kisses, whether it was on your lips, cheeks, neck, or breasts. He suckled your tits again when he rammed the thickest part of him inside you in one thrust. 

You stifled a cry into the crook of his neck and tightened your arms around him. “Bill!”

“Give it a minute, (Y/N),” he assured, but his voice sounded garbled, so far away. “I promise, it’s going to feel so good.”

When he felt you relax a little, Bill began to increase the length of his thrusts, breaking into your pussy a little more each time. You fell onto him, the pleasure beginning to overwrite the pain. 

Bill moaned as he sped up the slightest. “You’re so tight, (Y/N), tighter than I could’ve ever imagined.” His words only added fuel to the fire. “I can’t believe it’s me that gets to break into your pussy.”

“Then break me, Bill,” you pleaded. “Please. Harder.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to ask twice.”

Bill looped his arms around you to hold you in place. From there, he began to drive himself into you faster, harder, just like a hole to be used for his pleasure, just like you had asked.

“Oh!” 

You could hardly keep your eyes open as he assaulted your body. He tested different depths and angles, watching your facial expressions for the perfect one. His long, deep strokes were landing on the perfect place - a place that had you seeing stars. So pleasurable but just millimetres away from being too much, too painful. There was so much of him inside you. Your legs stiffened, almost cramping, as the heat increased in pitches in your core. Your hands went wild, trying to find a place to stabilise your body. They found refuge on the top of the headboard. In one particularly hard thrust, he sheathed himself completely inside you, the widest part of him spearing you open. 

That was the precise moment you came undone, screaming. White obfuscated your vision as you lost control of your body. You convulsed on him, your pussy contracting around his cock like a vice. Bill continued to fuck you through your orgasm, bottoming out in you repeatedly,  letting you ride out the pleasure for as long as humanely possible. You fell onto him like a rag doll, limp, worn out from your second orgasm. Bill could only smile at a job well done. He withdrew himself from you and flipped you over. He nestled his manhood back between your legs. You watched with excitement as his cock, covered in your cream, sprang to his navel. You felt so hollow without him inside you, and you were about to beg for him again, but he moved quickly. He leaned towards you, placing the head of his cock to your opening once again. But instead of delving into you like you had hoped, he rubbed himself against you, occasionally pushing into you the slightest.  

Confused, you raised your hips up, trying to align yourself perfectly with his cock and push him back in. But your attempts were futile. 

“Don’t do that,” you chastised when you realised he was doing this on purpose. 

“Do what?” Bill asked innocently. 

“Tease me like this.”

He smirked. “Who said I was teasing you?” 

Just as you were about to retort, Bill drove himself into you when you were least expecting it, burying himself entirely into you. Your body shivered in pleasure, legs straightening and stiffening. You screamed when he quickened his pace, pounding into you with deep, full thrusts. His hands gripped your bouncing breasts, keeping them in place and occasionally pinching your nipples. Bill pushed himself to the hilt, then almost withdrew completely, before filling you up again as hard as he could. At certain points, he would hit a bundle of nerves that caused your toes to curl. At some point, you couldn’t tell the difference between pain and pleasure—it all felt so overwhelmingly good. 

The lewd sound of his balls hitting your skin was heaven to your ears. In this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be filled with his seed. 

“Come inside me,” you near screamed. 

Your little request was enough to break Bill out of his trance. “What?”

“Come inside me,” you repeated. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” 

With no reason to ask you to clarify again, Bill obliged. He gave a couple more thrusts, so powerful it forced your body to slide up over the bedsheets and your head to almost slam into the headboard. Then, he let out a loud, choked grunt, his eyes screwing shut. You could feel his cock twitch heavily inside you as he deposited his seed, filling your pussy. He hovered over you, exhausted, draining every last bit of him inside you. Both of you shared the same laboured respiration. You reached up and pushed back the ginger hair that was strewn across his forehead.

Bill began to soften inside you, but refused to pull out just yet. If you stayed here like this any longer, there was no doubt you’d meld together into one.

With a heavy almost regretful breath, Bill reluctantly removed himself out of you. You felt his cum trickling rapidly out of you and onto the bed sheets. You sat up to look. There was so much. it was smeared all over your sex, all over your inner thighs, and all over the sheets. There was no doubt there was more deep inside you. 

You looked up at Bill. Much to your disappointment, he looked to be back to his usual, happy self. Your services were no longer required. And much to your disappointment, he was looking around for his briefs. Well, it wasn’t like you could stay in paradise forever. 

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he said. 

“Of course,” you responded.

Bill gave you a small peck on the lips which made you smile. Then, it all went downhill from there, as he returned not more than a second later for another kiss. This time, deeper, thick with more lust. The next kiss, he had you pinned you on the bed by the arms. Unexpectedly, you felt him harden against you once more. His cock was back its previous stiffness and trying to find its way back to your cunt. 

He paused. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into me,” Bill admitted sheepishly.

“You mean you’re not usually like this?” you questioned with a smile. You didn’t mind it, not one bit. 

He contemplated it. “It has been a while, but it’s highly unlikely for me to go twice, let alone three times a day.”

“Really?” You cocked your head. “Is that not—”

Before you could speak, Bill plunged himself into you once more. Your mouth went slack. It was quite an effective way to shut you up. Most of his spend was still either deep inside you or running down your inner thighs, but he was intent on pumping you full of him even more. 

You had no complaints. Instead, you succumbed to the wet sloshes of his thrusts and messy kisses once again.

…..

In a tent one long Portkey away from the Burrow, a very different conversation was taking place.

“How do you reckon our Paradise Potions did?” 

“Considering that Bill hasn’t joined us, I’d say pretty well.”

END!

[spechblend]

My Guide to Patch/Crust DIY Pants That No One Asked For:

(If you see this guide go through changes, you’re not crazy, I update it all the time)

I’ve noticed that my DIY pants had been noticed on here, so I’d thought I make a guide for new punks getting into the scene 💖

I’ve been in the punk scene for a little over two years now, so don’t take everything I say to heart, I’ve got lots to learn.

Typically, you want to start out with a good base. For instance, the pants you choose can make or break your project. I don’t suggest buying super expensive pants, but don’t buy them super low quality either. You want something that lasts, as crust or patch pants are meant to be your only pair.

EDIT: Before I start any new project, I look around my stuff to see if I can repurpose anything. Old T shirts, bed sheets, bags, you name it. It’s so much easier to repurpose your stuff before buying new things, and you save money doing it. Before you buy pants, see if you can find a pair you already own! I had to buy new ones because I only had one other pair of jeans that I wear to work.

I’ve seen some tutorials floating around for DIY can spikes. Please be very careful doing this. If you’re moshing in a vest made with cut up aluminum, you can seriously hurt someone if you’re not careful. Be on the safe side and either borrow/buy pre made studs and spikes or save the DIY can spikes for non-moshing vests/pants/cuffs.

If you’re moshing with any studs or spikes at ALL, they should be blunt!!!

Good places to buy pants

Thrift (it’s a bit of a crapshoot if you have a hard time finding sizes, but if they’ve lasted long enough to end up in a thrift store, then it means they’re more likely good quality. Check the tags!!)

Edited above, been informed of how Goodwill treats disabled employees

ASOS (I recommend if you have a hard time finding your size. I can’t guarantee the sustainability of this site though.)

Mercari (Like an online goodwill. I find a lot of awesome clothes on here. You can download the app.)

Depop (I seldom shop on here, but similar to Mercari with a wider range of brands.)

How the Pants Should Fit

The fit of your pants can also affect how they lay on you. I suggest buying pants slightly larger on you, if you’re covering them in patches. When you start sewing, you’re going to find that they’re going to shrink a little bit. So please avoid tight fitting jeans if you can! Straight or relaxed fit are the best.

EDIT: If skinny/fitting pants are all you got, sometimes making relief cuts at the knees help when you try to bend down.

Patches

Patches are going to be what makes your pants unique! There’s quite a few you can choose from: plain patches, band patches, politics patches, etcetera. If you’re going to cover the entirety of your pants, I suggest going to Joann’s or Michaels (fuck Hobby Lobby) for fabric. Buy a yard or two canvas or pleather (or both). Otherwise, I usually cut up old T-shirts for my fabric.

How to Make Your Own Patches

Stencil (very straightforward, here’s a guide) (please check out Anarchostensilism on insta/Tiktok/Deviantart)

Paint (Buy white/black stencil fabric paint. I don’t suggest acrylic, since it’s not made to move with fabric)

Where to Buy Pre Printed Patches

crustpunks.com (Hella good, fast shipping, affordable!! Made by punks for punks)

nuclearwasteunderground.com (I found this one randomly)

Etsy (While I hate them for the way they treat their sellers, unfortunately this can be a main source of income for some.)

Shows, punk meets, friends

If you’re going to make crust pants, it’s imperative that you have crust bands on your patches, that’s what makes them crust! (Apart from never washing them)

Edit: I would do your own research on the crust punk subculture, there’s a lot of discourse out there on what makes punks crust punks and so on.

Washing your pants is not a black and white rule, but you can ruin the integrity of your work if you carelessly throw them in the washer. Like if you were to throw a suede jacket into the washer, there’s certain steps to take!

Here’s an enlightening guide on crust.

Here’s some crust band recs!

Nausea

Anti Cimex

Dystopia (my favorite)

disrupt

Doom

Heresy

Discharge

Amebix

Things to Add to Your Pants

Buttons (you can buy or make your own. Here’s a guide for DIY bottle cap buttons)

Pockets (easy to monkey wrench with a few spare patches, but here’s a pattern)

Handkerchiefs (the hankey code, much like the lace code, is pretty much dead. But it’s up to you if you want to signal something with it.)

Wallet chains (here’s a cool guide to making your own!)

Bum flap (by far the coolest thing on this list. Makes your ass not hurt when you sit on the sidewalk. Here’s a video)

Make them convertible (I made mine into zip off shorts. Here’s a video)

I made this up, but I added removable knee pads to mine.

Pant Inspiration

Have no shame in taking reference! Here’s are some cool accounts with awesome pants!

carnifexofhate

dontditchitstitchit

no_name_no_reason

okshrimpet

annals_of_the_crustwar

a_lifeisabuse_e

That’s all I got! Remember to never wash your pants ✨

[onlyjaeyun]

i’ve been following ur writing for some time now and i do have to agree with that anon who said you did CH dirty. you are a very talented writer so it’s just hard to watch.

you started off CH so strong with the lore and little chapters here and there but as it progressed you kind of just got lazy and it shows. when important events happened in the story, they weren’t conveyed through writing but through the texts (ie the riki and yn fight, that was definitely worth a written chapter) and it was honestly disappointing.

the ending isn’t much to say about either. yn and hoon barely go through development after the letter incident and all of a sudden they’re dating and married with a kid like two chapters later?

idk, if it was a mental health issue then i get that but even then you should’ve just gave it a break and thought everything out more. you could do so much better.

thank you for the feedback!

i wanna put you through the progess of a piece of writing from the POV of a writer okay? now keep in mind: i work two jobs, am a fulltime uni student and the daughter of an immigrant household with two parents who still work most of the day just so you know what else i have to deal with, besides my mental health okay?

now, i started off CH strong right? yes. i uploaded on the daily, fine i chose that. a chapter usually takes me around one hour if i actually sit down and focus on nothing but the chapter itself, which includes IG stories, editing, formatting etc. alright

on top of the daily chapters, i constantly replied to 40+ asks a day, a blessing in disguise because no matter how much i enjoy talking to you guys, the pressure does get worse the bigger that number of my inbox becomes, i hope this makes sense

now, i started CH back in october, right when my semester started, thats why i started off strong but as time went on, my assignments and private life got too busy and i guess i felt entitled enough as a writer to skip a few certain chaps and make life a little easier for me by making them regular chapters instead of written ones.

and this is gonna be my main point: i'm not a machine. i wrote a minimum of 5 THOUSAND words per written chapter, MINIMUM. we're talking about a 5-9 THOUSANDED worded chapter EACH WEEK. which usually took me about 6-7 hours, even allnighters.

yes, i chose to do that and maybe my time management wasn't the best but i had to create a compromise where i wouldnt have let you guys wait for over two months which would have resulted in me losing my motivation completely, and yet still focusing on EXAMS. because you know, i'm a fulltime uni student with TWO jobs 😮‍💨

if YOU think i did CH dirty go write an alternative ending yourself but it should be a minimum of 15 chapters including 5 written ones, with at LEAST 9k words each yeah? i wanna see you manage it all, pls prove me wrong snd show me you're better than me i'm genuinely begging bc it might inspire me to do "better" next time.

as a writer/artist/creator, and i can tell you probably arent one yourself or havent been one for long, the longer smth takes to come to an end the worse the pressure becomes which results in a blockage i dont wish upon my worst enemy i'm being deadass. i dealt with some of the worst writer's block ive had since i started writing literally 12 years ago and you're telling me i should have just "taken a break" and do "better"

i never, ever expected anything from anyone but some of you are so entitled to a writer's time and skill it's giving me a headache. maybe you didn't like the timing and writing of the last few chapters of CH and i guess that's unfortunate but this was so unnecessary because you completely dismissed everything else that could have been going on in my life and even belittled my mental health issues like im some fucking AI writing machine

do better, be nicer, write it yourself if you don't like it i'm so fucking over this

if i had gotten out of my own comfort and wellbeing and have actually written another set of written chapters i would have burned myself completely out. ive been in this fandom for not even a year and have already finished FOUR smaus with 50 chapters each, you do NOT get to tell me what i should or could have done better because you dont even give a fuck about me as a person this is just about receiving what YOU think YOURE entitled to but this is MY art and I will do what I see fit even if it's not what was expected of it because i'm a fucking human being with a life before i'm a writer on tumblr

oh, also: i do this for free ㅤ:) just a reminder :) this is my HOBBY :)

and don't you EVER call me lazy again when it comes to writing because i'm not gonna pour my heart and soul into a fic just for you to call me lazy when i literally wrote 50 THOUSAND words for this fucking fic just for the written chapters

goodbye

[aviivix]

IMPORTANT EDIT MAY 18 2024

A lot about this has changed since I originally wrote this up, especially around act 3 since while right now it’s still up in the air between a few different ideas, the act 3 in this post is cringe-tier and I’m embarrassed for having wrote it. Another significant enough change to mention here is that old Agent 3 and Agent 8 now join Off the Hook as antagonists, and recruiting “enemy” Octolings is now a core mechanic that the story anchors around more heavily. Also, Cy actually looks good now.

I’ll do a revised writeup of this at some point, but for now, take most of this with a grain of salt! A lot has changed. Now, flashback to about a year ago!

Soooo... I’ve been dead for a while and that’s because I’ve been fixated entirely on Splatoon 3 basically since it launched and all this time I’ve been working on an AU/HC/Fanfic/Something Like That called Culture Shock.

Given this has been something I’ve been working on for a LONG time, and given it’s entirely tied to Octarians, I figure I might as well make a big post about it before Side Order totally invalidates it! (Though I’ll keep working on this as an AU even if I don’t like how it interacts with Side Order.)

Details and more art under the break! (Though the quality will vary greatly as, again, I’ve been doing stuff with this since Splatoon 3 came out.) This is an extremely long story concept and if you read the whole thing I officially owe you my soul

There's a LOT to this (as there is with any hyperfixation concept like this) but I'll try to keep it somewhat light on details. Of course, it’s subject to change, and the exact plot progression is still kind of in the air. A big part is whether the climax of Act II should actually happen at the end of Act I... But here’s what I’ve developed so far.

The Story

Prologue

Culture Shock is designed as a DLC story mode set a year after the end of Splatoon 3's main story. The Squid Sisters have disappeared at some point in that time (a familiar situation), and ol' Cuttlefish has called in all of the agents-- plus Pearl and Marina-- to join forces against the Octarians that are undoubtedly behind it. Rather than going into stages alone, the levels are designed for you to do them with CPU teammates.

It's pretty quickly made certain that Octarians were involved, and thus the group is airlifted by Off the Hook into Octo Valley to find Callie and Marie. Upon landing, the player is ambushed by a group of Octolings -- that is, until one member in the backline pulls down her mask and excitedly calls out. It’s Callie? And though she doesn’t immediately unmask, Marie is definitely next to her.

After some confusion and accusations from both sides, the Squid Sisters assure the Squidbeak Splatoon that they’re not brainwashed, and offer to explain everything. Though Marie warns that it’s a long story, so the group settle down by ol’ Cuttlefish’s shack for a massive flashback played from the perspective of the Squid Sisters.

(Gameplay-wise, this whole setup is to allow the player to interrupt the Squid Sisters’ sequence at any time, and then pick up where they left off. It being a flashback also means it’s easy to replay missions or go for 100% by just asking Callie to repeat something.)

Funny title card, and the real story officially starts. I’m gonna skip through things a lot more, since at this pace it would take WAY too long to summarize every little scene and there are a lot of things not really settled on. I’ll be keeping detail for the introduction, as well as some key scenes, but for any less important/in-between type stuff, I’ll be summarizing what happens. Even doing this it will be extremely long, though Act I is far bigger than Acts II and III because it’s primarily setting up the world and motivations.

Act I

Introductory cutscene, in which the Squid Sisters find themselves stuck in purple ink, locked in an Octarian vault. The Octarians who squidnapped them keep their distance, though one particular Octoling does try to chat (to the annoyance of the others).

She claims that the Octarians will let them go in time, and that they won’t be hurt - though the Squid Sisters are suspicious at best. And, after noticing their discomfort in the Octarian ink, she offers them her Octoshot to paint the ground their own color. As the Octoling goes back to standing guard, Callie inks the floor and the two slump over, one of them idly singing the Calamari Inkantation under her breath.

Fade to when the Octoling swaps guard duty with another Octoling, who leans up against the wall and, after the first Octoling leaves, promptly falls asleep. Callie realizes she still has the Octoshot from before, and suggests slipping through the keyhole in squid form. With help from Marie, she’s able to get out on her own, and sets out to find the key to the vault. (This serves as a tutorial for stealth missions - though the guard will not wake up even if you fail.)

After freeing Marie, the two of them head towards the door, whispering about how crazy it was that the guard slept through all of that. The guard then dully tells them that he wasn’t asleep. The Squid Sisters prepare for a fight, but the guard barely has his eyes open and has not moved. After some back and forth with Callie, this Wendy’s employee of an Octoling just assures them that if he could beat them, it wouldn’t have even gotten to this point, and tells them to do whatever they want - just warning them that the other Octarians wouldn’t be so lenient.

An Octoling watches them come out, but just looks around frantically before running up to meet them. Marie declares that they’re breaking out, and prepares for a fight... but the Octoling starts freaking out instead, first worrying that they’ll get hurt trying to escape, and then worrying about what the rest of the Octarians are going to do with the Squid Sisters gone.

Before either Inkling can interject, a much more stern Octoling calls out while angrily marching up to the group. Through this conversation the Squid Sisters learn that the worried Octoling is named Aris, the tired Octoling is named Oregil, and this new more angry Octoling is named Cy. What originally seemed to be a jailbreak quickly turns into some (rather silly) negotiations with Cy, the Squid Sisters trying to convince her that Aris didn’t do anything wrong, and that Oregil totally did all he could to stop them.

Though Cy clearly doesn’t buy it, she lets it go, returning Aris’s Octoshot but also warning the Squid Sisters that their squadron’s mission is of utmost importance, and if the rest of them won’t do their jobs properly, she will. That said, the two of them just broke out of the only vault they had. So now, the Squid Sisters have to just stay in camp under Cy’s supervision.

With no more weapon to brandish and a clearly blown cover, the two of them kind of have no choice but to agree. Though Marie alludes to how dysfunctional this squad appears to be, and how easy it will probably be to escape.

Though before the conversation ends, Aris asks if “Tetra” will be okay with this. There’s a sort of tension in the air immediately upon mention of the name, immediately pierced by an intimidating voice asking what was going on. This was an Elite Octoling, apparently Tetra. After a recap from Cy, Tetra turns to the surrounded Squid Sisters, and tells them in no uncertain terms to always remember that they are prisoners - they are not one of them.

From here on out, the rest of Act I is a sort of slow burn. At the start, it’s purely the Squid Sisters looking for ways to escape. But as time goes on, they learn more about these Octarians by sort of living their life, and through learning about the octo squad themselves.

Aris is kind, possibly to a fault. While she’s committed to the squadron and their goals, she’s also the most both-sides-ist of the bunch. She wants to think that everyone is trying their best, and does everything she can to avoid conflict, but as a result she doesn’t speak up as much when the Squid Sisters make faulty assumptions about them, and she uninentionally hinders their growth at the start by letting them hide behind her leniency. Over the course of Act I, she eventually has to realize she can’t just hold everyone’s opinion equally - the Squid Sisters are making judgements off of bad information, and she realizes that her enabling that is making it harder for everyone.

Cy is the opposite. Cy is deeply passionate about their situation, and takes any opportunity to show the Squid Sisters what they get wrong. She especially butts heads with Marie, having little patience for the various non-solutions to their problems, or for the ignorance about Octarian culture. She’s extremely well connected among Octarians, even having worked with Octavio himself, although she doesn’t seem thrilled about it. Thus, despite coming across as very headstrong and aggressive, she also is the source of a lot of information about Octarian life.

Oregil is a self-proclaimed realist - in actuality, a doomer. He doesn’t say much, but what he does say is not particularly hopeful. When put in charge of something, he doesn’t tend to have a lot of energy behind it, as he’s become convinced that, in the end, Octarians cannot be saved. That said, it would be wrong to call him fully complacent. He still sticks with the team, even if he doesn’t have much energy to contribute, and would rather go down with his sinking ship than abandon his friends and family. Though he always seems to be napping on the job, he never actually does, though not for lack of trying. He has insomnia, and it’s rare to find him asleep at all even when laying in bed.

The Elite Octoling Tetra rarely shows herself. The only things the Squid Sisters have seen of her is that she’s intimidating, and not to be reckoned with. But the way the others talk about her and interact with her betray a different story. Oregil is flippant about her commands and doesn’t actually give anything his all. Cy goes along with Tetra’s commands, but seemingly only due to her own reasons aligning with Tetra’s rather than out of any respect for her authority. Aris obeys, but the way she acts and talks about it makes it almost feel like she’s obeying out of pity.

Lastly, there is also a fifth mysterious Octoling that the Squid Sisters will occasionally grab a passing glimpse of. They don’t know who this Octoling is, and whenever she’s mentioned, the others assure them that “she’s nobody”.

As the act goes on, Callie especially pries deeply into the hows and whys of a lot of Octo stuff. She had been in Octarian territory before in Splatoon 2, sure, but she was being brainwashed by DJ Octavio himself and held up as a superstar. This time, she was fully aware of herself, and living the life of the average Octoling soldier in the time between Octavio’s Zapfish heists.

The two of them wonder why the sun hasn’t come up, and learn that without the Great Zapfish, the kettle’s “sun” cannot shine. It’s a land of eternal night. The Octolings seem to live on a diet of mostly power eggs and salmon, which they learn is because without light, most crops don’t grow. Many little things like this illustrating just how resource-starved this nation is.

There are a lot of assumptions made and corrected. A lot of complaints put into perspective when the things they find uncomfortable or annoying are things these Octarians have had to deal with every day. But one of the biggest things is their ideas of resolution. An early question being, “Why don’t you just leave? Inkopolis is a stone’s throw away.”

There are a lot of answers that are given to this, but to some effect, they all boil down to “culture”. Inkopolis isn’t the same as Octaria. It has different people, different history, different fashion, different food, different expectations... it’s just a totally different place.

Oregil’s lived in Octarian society his whole life - it’s his home. Cy is an artist, she makes distinctly Octarian music and sees firsthand how it connects those in Octarian communities. Aris knows Octolings are “accepted”, but only insofaras they appeal to Inkling expectations. It’s hard to express their culture without being seen as weird or other. Even little things like how they look - Octolings in Inkopolis tending to make their hair slimmer, straighter, adding patterns and minimizing the amount of visible suckers. Plus, how many non-Octoling Octarians do you see in Inkopolis and beyond? Maybe an Octoling can fit in, but what about an Octotrooper?

The most impactful realization for the Squid Sisters as well, is just how few Octarians are even there anymore. Between the exodus in Octo Valley, the bigger exodus in Octo Canyon, the horrors of Octo Expansion, and just recently the similar horrors of Alterna... all stacked on top of the nation itself being less and less hospitable year by year? Since the events of Splatoon 1, so many Octarians have been lost. Within the squad they’re in, pictures and murmurings from the rest of them tell the stories of at least four other Octolings that were previously in their squadron.

So then the other aspect of the Squid Sisters’ arc is... if they don’t think Octarians should be stealing the Great Zapfish or dealing with Salmonids or anything like that... what should they be doing?

Because so far, nothing has worked for them. Negotiations fail, because Inklings don’t know enough about Octarian society to understand why they need so much support. They don’t know enough about the history of Inklings and Octolings to realize that Inkadia is largely the reason they’re suffering. The average Inkling doesn’t know enough to realize there’s a problem, and the average Octarian doesn’t have a loud enough voice.

All this compounded onto the fact that now, the only Octolings Inkadia sees are the ones who decided that Octarians were oppressing themselves, to the point where they abandoned everything they knew to live in the nation that started this in the first place.

Though, it’s hard to blame them when life in Octaria is practically nonexistent. Losing so many people, living in such horrible conditions, led by an egomaniac whose awareness of his people is performative at best... but most Octolings can’t let that take away from who they are as a people. They don’t let it tear their communities apart, or sever the bonds they have with people. Their lived experiences show them that it’s worth fighting for. Well... except in one scenario we’ll get into later.

The final important thing that comes to light over this period... This whole time Octavio has barely come up, because he doesn’t even know the Squid Sisters are there. The squadron are a real squadron in the Octarian army, but this whole mysterious operation involving the Squid Sisters is entirely outside Octavio’s control. In fact, it becomes apparent that the Octarians at least in this squadron or associated with this squadron, hate Octavio and everything he’s been doing to their society as a whole.

They’ve always seen the Zapfish heists as a horrible, horrible ego trip. An extremely hollow, expensive move that only plants targets on the backs of Octarians. But even in feeling that way, Aris and Oregil both admit that there isn’t much else offering them hope. If not for Octavio stealing the Zapfish for those couple days of “sun”light, what would they be doing? Though Cy has a much more strong opinion there, asserting that doing nothing would have put those resources into survival rather than gambling it all on a fool’s errand.

Needless to say, the Squid Sisters get a bit wrapped up in this stuff. Talking to these Octolings, learning about their life, living it, offering to help (gameplay sections), and all around having a lot of beliefs challenged. It’s a lot of stuff that they are only able to wrap their mind around from actually knowing what it’s like to live through it, without the option to just leave when it gets too rough.

While at the beginning they were just looking for an opening to escape, by the halfway point they aren’t even really being watched anymore, let alone trying to break out. Tetra may call them prisoners, but by that point they’ve had so many opportunities to just walk away. The only thing keeping them there is the fact that if they leave, what will happen? And can they confidently say that it’s the Octarians’ fault for it happening?

By the end, their primary objective is to find something they can do to actually give them a shot. And for that... they’ll need more than just the two of them. The idea of bringing in the Squidbeak Splatoon is immediately dismissed as insane by Cy - especially the idea of bringing in THE Agent 3. But after a little while, with Oregil indifferent as always and Aris on board, she comes around, though warning that Tetra will not like it, and they could be accidentally luring Agent 3 into a death trap. But it’s a risk they decide to let the Captain decide for themself.

Act II

Acts II and III are far less elaborate, because this is after all the characters have been established, and the world has been largely explored.

Act II kicks off with there being a lot of reactions. (As a note, the Octolings with the Squid Sisters at the present time are Oregil, Aris, and Cy. In their own ways, they’re uncomfortable in the presence of Captain 3. Cy and Oregil also seem to have an attitude with how they look at Marina.) A lot of disbelief, but also, to some degree, understanding. Naturally, Captain 3 is skeptical, taking a moment to contemplate what they’re being asked to do.

But around this time, Marina cuts in, asserting that regardless of the cause, Octarian society is inherently a problem. That’s why she left. She accuses the squadron of perpetuating DJ Octavio’s oppressive rule, and that they could have their cake and eat it too just by moving to Inkopolis.

The group go back and forth, with escalating emotions and accusations, until Pearl declares that, whatever they’re plotting, Off the Hook and the Squidbeak Splatoon will put a stop to it. Silence falls over the group, until Marie retaliates saying that she doesn’t think she can in good conscience fight against people who are only trying to exist.

The other agents start taking the Octarians’ side, even Agent 8 who, despite hesitating given their trust in Off the Hook, still resonates too strongly with the plight of the Octarians to turn their back on them fully. Pearl is taken aback, but after a glance at a very betrayed Marina, declares the Squidbeak Splatoon their enemy too, Marina locking eyes with Agent 8 before Off the Hook take their leave.

Cy remarks that it’s a shame, but she understands exactly why Marina is acting this way. Callie asks why, but Cy just assures her that Marina isn’t stupid, so if everything goes right, she’ll come around. Aris tells the player where the kettle’s entrance is, and at their leisure, they can join the Octarians there.

Upon entering the kettle as the player Cy assumes you know how things work, and there are a few filler travel stages to break the story up a little, before eventually the group return to see Tetra emerge for the first time, locking eyes with Captain 3, removing her goggles for the first time, and immediately going on the attack. Captain 3 drops their weapon and holds up their hands, but Tetra still rushes them down, holding both Dark Tetra Dualies up to their face.

After a long moment of them staring each other down, Tetra narrows her eyes, throws her arms down in a burst of anger, and leaves without saying anything else. After a few sighs of relief across the group, the tone lightens up, and Cy guesses that Tetra won’t be bothering them - which is a relief.

The bulk of Act II itself is actually fairly underdeveloped story-wise and is a lot more gameplay focused. It reinforces a lot of the character stuff from Act I, but a big ongoing theme is repeatedly clashing with Off the Hook in various places, and getting more glimpses of the strange fifth Octoling and getting more hints as to what it really is that the squadron is planning, and why they’ve kept it hidden.

While their convictions are still the same, there is a growing level of uncertainty among the group as they feel less okay with being kept in the dark. Eventually, the Squid Sisters, Cap 3, and Agent 8 catch a glimpse of the mystery Octoling leaving, and watch them enter a building off the edge of the camp alongside the other Octolings. The Squid Sisters take the opportunity to snoop around the building, which appears to be a laboratory of some sort.

As the group search deeper within for answers, strange, distorted music can be heard - with oddly familiar vocals. It turns into a full stealth mission, until eventually towards the end you’re spotted and confronted by all four of the squadron members. Tetra warns that they were not supposed to come here, Cy is quiet for once, Aris is quiet as usual, and Oregil... actually looks motivated to stop you.

Of course this is a video game and you win that horrible 4v4, breaking through into the room ahead to find that fifth Octoling in a room full of synthesizers, speakers and computers. She calls for Cy, before turning around and realizing who it actually is.

Marie asks the obvious question, of what the hell this is, and the fifth Octoling who introduces herself as Sock, answers that this is a studio, actually. Well, a lab and a studio. Maybe it should be called a studyo. Weirdly lighthearted for what the group was expecting.

Cy, having respawned and entered behind them, is audibly defeated as she guesses an explanation can’t be avoided.

The studio was used over this entire period to study the effects of a song whose influence is as potent as it is destructive... the Calamari Inkantation. It’s the song that spawned not one, but two mass exoduses. It has an undeniable impact on the cephaling psyche. And, as they know, it’s one of the most important songs to not only the Squid Sisters, but Inkadia as a whole.

The fact that the Inkantation can grab the mind so easily when it isn’t being actively fought, and cause such extremely psychological changes... it was, and still is, one of the biggest problems Octaria has had to deal with. And up until recently, there was little you could do about the Inkantation besides actively study its influence.

What they found, was that it was able to simply cloud out your own lived experience. It would walk you down mental shortcuts, take advantage of the simplicity of certain ideas, and corrupt experiences that contradicted it. Causing Octolings to simply leave their struggling communities, their memories twisted with the idea that they’ve somehow invented their own struggle, corrupted only to enable the Octoling to gravitate towards assimilation without dissonance.

The only Octolings welcome in Inkadia are those who have listened to and internalized the Inkantation... those who, consciously or not, allow it to twist their memories and reshape who they are as people.

It’s a lot. Some Octolings are more resistant than others, and some, like Sock here, have managed to reverse engineer it and escape that way. Sock, an Octoling raised in Inkopolis, raised with the Inkantation, and only later exposed to its flaws - without memories of Octaria to have been twisted by it, she was only able to create new ones, to learn from those who live Octaria every day, rather than being stuck behind a layer of cognitive dissonance.

Of course, other Octolings simply could not leave. The new experiences formed after the Inkantation constantly falsify the old, corrupted memories, and reinforce the reality. But many Octolings, upon being swayed by the Inkantation, simply left and assimilated into Inkling societies.

The idea that the Inkantation is not only not good, but actively a corrupting force, was not something Cy nor any of the squadron were confident the Squid Sisters or anyone else exposed to the Inkantation would be able to process. And without that, how else would they understand the importance of their mission - to reverse the effects of the Inkantation using the strange, distorted song the group have been hearing.

Taking a lot of voice samples from the Squid Sisters was the only way they would be able to relpicate the sound that originally entranced those under the Inkantation’s effects. That’s why they needed to go for broke and resort to squidnapping. The Inkantation being a strong corrupting force meant that it was unpredictable how they would react to learning the truth behind the song, while still at least partially under the effects of it.

And that’s also why Cy said of Marina that she understands why she’s so hostile - Marina is one of the most deeply Inkantationed Octolings.

A lot of the breakdowns of how the Inkantation affects Octolings also resonates extremely strongly with Agent 8 - who, despite how prominent and overpowering the Inkantation was, was still able to hold onto friendly feelings around Octarians, and frustrations around their place in Inkling society. So many weird, dissonant feelings, are starting to make sense. But also, a lot of really awful feelings are starting to surface as well - traumatic feelings, now that they’re starting to think back on their life, and counterbalancing that to the horrors they witnessed in the Deepsea Metro. Horrifying, but... real. So, so, horribly real.

This is their last shot. If they can reverse the Inkantation across Inkopolis... who knows what it would achieve. But the plan, at the very least, is unity and community. Cy admits that in all likelihood, most Octolings will stay in Inkopolis even after the Inkantation is cleared. That’s their home now - they have new friends, new commitments, a new life... and there’s not much of a home to return to in Octaria.

But, maybe, some Octolings come to visit. Maybe some Octolings come back. Maybe those that don’t, can at least use their new life in Inkopolis to raise the voices of those suffering back home, and create a real partnership - no egotistical DJ required. And not just turning Octolings into Inklings with funny hair.

Act III

Well, once this whole reveal happens, there is a lot of internal conflict, but on the face of it, there’s really nothing to argue. There’s the disgust and to a degree personal insult felt at the idea that this song that was so important to them, that became a cornerstone of Inkadia, was harmful. That they the Squid Sisters enacted that harm onto tens of thousands of Octolings.

But it’s all there. Their minds want to deny it, but there’s nothing to stand on.

At the very least, they have a rare opportunity to set things almost entirely right. And so, they take it.

The plan is simple: Do what the Inkantation did. Blast the song out to as many Octolings as possible, and then... maybe overthrow Octavio for fun just as a bonus lol

The Squid Sisters are already popstars - they can just take the song into the Inkopolis News Station, perform it live, and get it playing all over, such is how Inkopolis is with its new music. Or well, that’s how it COULD work...  if there wasn’t a sudden “NEVER GONNA HAPPEN” and muffled “Pearl--!!” coming from Agent 8′s earpiece, that they forgot to take out.

So... the easy walk-in walk-out strategy just turned into a big climactic final battle for the station. The specifics of which........ are still being ironed out, sORRY!

But generally, Pearl and Marina get backup in on the situation, and it’s a lot of small missions in one building, split across multiple teams, some stealth, some just battle, some objectives, and the final battle being a survival section over the Squid Sisters performing the song (playing as the squid sisters is cool but its not quite a Splatoon Final Boss if the Squid Sisters aren’t singing some variant of the Calamari Inkantation over it except that one time) including Pearl and Marina themselves getting in on the battle.

I’m not musical enough to think of how this would work, but it would be kinda crazy for it to sort of be objective-based by whether the Squid Sisters’ reverse-Inkantation or perhaps even Off the Hook singing the normal Inkantation is playing for more time - like a dueling song of some sort

After it’s over and you win, there’s this sort of both relief and confusion since it feels like not much happened - but it affects Marina. Like, god, does it affect Marina after everything that happened to her after the Inkantation. A lot of what she knew, the people she was close to, her life in general, all just flooding back. Suddenly realizing that these were not shadowy monsters that were out to get her, they weren’t evil clones trying to destroy the world. They were people she knew, old friends, family even, that were just trying to get by as best they could without leaving their friends and family in the dust. And then she let herself be swayed by a song, and then suddenly... how could she have just left them like that? What did she do to them? What did she do to herself?

But cutting through it all is Pearl’s voice, asking if she’s okay. Despite what she was worried about... it’s still Pearl. It didn’t make her hate Pearl or not recognize Pearl or change anything about how she felt about Pearl. It just, cleared the fog around the other people she cared about, that she had been convinced she didn’t.

So.... yeah!! Once all is said and done, Marina assures Pearl that she’s still her, that all these fears she had, didn’t happen. Plus, some minor panic over how close she got to keeping these thoughts down forever. But she didn’t, and now that it’s all over, she can let it out to Pearl and the rest of them.

Epologue

Other Octolings throughout Inkopolis start feeling similar things, though minus the Deepsea Metro trauma, and as anticipated, some of them do return. Some come back temporarily, some just have a lot to think about. Many who come back in some form or another will also sadly realize how close Octaria is to just crumbling to the ground. But over the following days, weeks, months, and years, both Octolings and Inklings work together to both raise awareness and to help reconstruction efforts.

It’s the start of a much, much, much larger social shift - that kind of also passively involves removing Octavio from power, but that’s easy enough at this point. And of course, Pearl and Marina come up with some shenanigans to get the squadron and the Squid Sisters... off the hook.

And that’s Culture Shock, the entire story exists for that one throwaway pun at the end thank you for listening you’ve been a great audience and even if this FINDS its target audience NOBODY will be able to read this before the direct that will inevitably have Side Order content which means NOBODY except ME will have the knowledge of this before their expectations are shfited by the existence of Side Order

Okay but seriously if you somehow finished all of this like, DM me on Discord @aviivix or something because we will become best friends

Also... if you can believe it... this is like maybe HALF of like all the story stuff I’ve got in Culture Shock - each member of the Octo Squad has an arc (especially Tetra she has the biggest arc but I barely mention Tetra here) and there’s big ass history with the dead Octos and a lot of specifics I didn’t touch... if you ask me about any of it I will be your best friend no questions asked.

TYSM!!!!!!!!!

[crazylittlejester]

A warriors…meets…cia again fic???

hold up lemme just—-

😎

😳🕶️🤏

he is only ten years old jes. Devastating. (*adds it to my future a03 bedtime stories to-read later*)

it was like a four word prompt sent in by an anon that’s grown into a huge multi chapter thing because I didn’t expect it to get as long as it has and now I’m realizing I have to break it up into chapters 😭 I’ve literally been working on it for like… five months, poor Mandarin Wars Anon has had to deal with my dumb ass getting too carried away with things and I’m so grateful for their patience 😭 It’s been scrapped and completely rewritten at MINIMUM like six times now, the plot has been COMPLETELY changed, it’s been a wild ride 😭 I’m sticking it in my ‘You’re A Part Of Me’ series which has been a bit fun because i get to drag little elements from past fics in that series into this one. small enough things that someone who hasn’t read the series won’t feel like theyre missing something but people who HAVE might recognize the reference

the plot has sort of turned into a murder mystery almost… im losing my mind, genuinely, i’ve put so much time into this fic

it’s also something i’ve been struggling with the rating on for months, because while I do not write explicit things (because that is my personal preference), the themes are a bit heavy, and because of that I decided I’ll be raising the rating to M. Which has also just allowed me to add in other things unrelated to the initial reason I was worrying over the rating and not worry about thinking “is this too violent-“. A while ago I considered writing two versions of the fic because I know a lot of people who’d been following me back when I got that prompt in the first place were really really excited about it, but that’s a lot of editing and I’m not sure how many people are still that into it 😭 So i’ll probably do a poll or make a post or SOMETHING to see if people would want a T rated version, if enough people do I’ll edit the fic

to be so so clear tho: the main reason this fic is going to be rated M is because of heavy themes, heavy discussions, and trauma related to a past event, i just wanted to play it safe. since deciding i was going to rate it higher, ive allowed myself to throw in more detailed descriptions of violence and nightmares and shit like that. and the main part of the fic that made me first think i should bump the rating up is going to have like *** in the text before and after it so people can just skip that if they want, cos if I’m gonna write a fic about trauma, then i’m gonna write a fic about trauma. and this is my free therapy so 🕺🕺🕺

anyways, i don’t wanna say it because i feel like then it’s just not gonna happen, but I’m hoping and PRAYING i can post the first chapter when Mandarin Wars Anon gets back 😭 fingers fuckin crossed. AND THE FIC ACTUALLY HAS A NAME NOW, WHICH IS FUCKING CRAZY AFTER FIVE MONTHS OF JUST CALLING IT “Mandarin Wars Anon’s Fic”

also i’ve been debating letting Time just go absolutely batshit towards the end of this fic because he kinda deserves it, as a little treat, yknow?

i really hope it lives up to the expectations🧍‍♂️ ive felt a lot of pressure while working on this cos so many people have gotten excited for it and im a BIT worried its just going to absolutely suck, so if i drop it and disappear off the face of the earth for a bit its because the anxiety ate me alive

[tortoisebore]

any tips for new writers?

(btw i am literally in love with hey, sharpshooter it had me up all night reading it <3)

**disclaimer that i am by no means a person that has any actual real education/experience in writing or character work or world building & i can only give you what has worked for me & the things i’ve kept in mind while writing my little gay fanfiction 💞👯‍♀️

my main big picture tips are not backed up in research, they’re just what’s worked for me:

1. make a deeply detailed outline. spending a lot of time writing a very long, detailed outline at the beginning helped me a lot when i felt stuck in the back half of the fic. the outline changed a lot from when i started it, and i added little notes and ideas for scenes or dialogues or character traits along the way, but all of my big idea generation happened there and it helped me a lot with pacing the plot and building the characters and their relationship gradually. also** it was not some sort of technically perfect, structured outline—this is what it looked like:

fr just get all of your ideas down on a page in whatever way works for you. this is the place to word-dump to your heart’s content!!

2. make the first draft bad. fr just get it in the page. if you’re not feeling it or don’t have any specific word choices in your head when you’re writing the first draft, don’t worry about the dialogue being realistic or having perfect flowery metaphors or beautiful descriptive world building. literally just get it on the page in whatever way you can.

3. connect the dots between the type of writing you like to read and what you like to write. i loveee books with flowery prose and metaphors and natural dialogue, and i found that i really enjoyed writing those things, so they were the goals i focused on while i was doing all my editing/second draft writing. on the flip side, if you like to read extensive world-building but find yourself struggling to find motivation/inspiration to write it, don’t. try to write how you want to write, but put more emphasis on writing how you like to write.

4. don’t force it. this has been crucial to me bc i work a 9-5 in the art/design industry and i only have so much creative energy to go around, so i have to ration it carefully. if you try to force yourself to write when you’re really not feeling it, or when you’re out of motivation and frustrated and tired, it will 100% show in your writing.

5. don’t think about posting your work. for 99% of us, this is a hobby. posting your work is not a hobby, creating it is!! rn we exist in a world where people view creativity and art solely as content to be consumed, and i encourage you to place more emphasis on actually enjoying and finding peace and meaning in the journey of making something rather than the idea of other people consuming it. what it does for you and how it makes you feel is far more important than what it does for the people pressuring you for an update you’re not ready to give them.

and then here are a couple technical/grammatical tips that i learned way back in like 6th grade english or picked up on by reading a million books over the years & still think of constantly:

1. vary your sentence structure!! i am sometimes bad at this and i don’t really pay attention to it in my first drafts, but when i go back and edit i make sure to vary my sentences by length, compound vs. simple, breaking up with semicolons or hyphens, etc. a story that’s written with strong, varied sentence types will read much more naturally and flow better than one that doesn’t

2. be intentional about starting your sentences with different words. again, when i’m writing my first drafts i don’t pay much attention to things like this, but when i’m editing i’m really anal about making sure that my sentences don’t all start with “he” or “[insert name here]” or “it” or whatever. sometimes you can’t work around it, but my goal is to never have two consecutive sentences start with the same word, and i really really try to make sure that two consecutive paragraphs don’t start with the same word

3. say your dialogue out loud. i had the hardest time trying to make my dialogue feel natural at the start but honest to god saying it out loud with all the cadence and emphases you’re writing it with can really help you find ways to make it feel like actual people talking. also, don’t be afraid to use ellipses and hyphens and break up a string of dialogue with an action, like a character sighing or biting the inside of their cheek or moving their hands. people don’t talk in perfectly-structured sentences. we run-on and don’t use punctuation and we restart or hesitate in the middle of a sentence—include that!!

[z3r0art]

Miguel O’Hara X Reader story idea

Edit- so I saw the movie yesterday and BRUH!!!! Miguel’s logic is that there IS no logic, bro is PROJECTINGGGGG!!!!

hear me out! (Also keep in mind I haven’t seen the movie yet, just going on all the context I’ve seen goin around)

Reader and Miguel use to date, and they were a very happy couple. However Miguel is ALSO a very indecisive person and is secretly seeing another woman. Does he feel guilty about doing this to them both? 1000000% Does he truly love them both?…..

Sadly, he ends up slowly ghosting the reader when he finds out the other woman (his soon to be wife) is pregnant with his child. Ignoring her calls…..giving one word response texts…..blowing off their dates……

The reader (bless her heart and soul) thinks he’s just busy with work. However…. the reader finds out the truth by running into them and SEES his pregnant fiancé (not his wife yet) she’s absolutely devastated. He sees that she saw them and tried to explain, tried to find some way to tell her, that he’s still in love with her, that he never wanted to hurt her, but reader isn’t having it. “I trusted you! I thought you were different and genuinely cared about me! I saw the signs, but I really REALLY wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt.” He tries to console her and explain everything, but she just slaps his hands away “Don’t you EVER touch me again!” and just leaves as he’s trying to explain.

the guilt continues to eat him up throughout the years, but hey- he’s made his decision…..right?

he still thinks about her and always wonders “what could have been.” Does he actually love this woman or did he just stay with her because she got her pregnant? He definitely loves his daughter, but…..does he truly love his wife? He’s conflicted and doesn’t know, but one day when he and his family are enjoying an outing, he sees the reader!

he gets excited and makes some excuse to his wife and says he’ll be right back; he’s not really thinking about his actions, but then before he could get closer, the reader turns around and he sees that…..she’s pregnant. Not only that, but there’s a pretty little ring on her finger. He then also sees a man coming up with some ice cream and is gushing about how he still can’t believe they’re having their first kid…..oh…..so that’s…..her husband. She looks so……happy…..without him…

he leaves before she sees him and he just feels…..numb. A certain pain that he can’t possibly put into words…..he always thought he made the right decision, but then seeing her again just brought up so many emotions that’s he’s been trying to bury deep inside.

another time skip happens and this could be where Miguel discovers the multiple timelines/universes. He accidentally finds one where….he and the reader are together…. How happy they look. He still has his daughter and the reader has her son. Something must’ve happened in this timeline where he and his wife broke up- same with reader and her husband.

he makes the decision to go to that timeline- but then…..it breaks. Everything is…gone. His wife, his daughter……the reader. All gone right before his eyes. All because he wanted to be selfish, all because he couldn’t make up his mind…..

now here he is in the present day, in the spidey society (or whatever it’s called) hunting down anomalies, depressed, and angry.

until one day…

a glitch happens in the main hall. Like a LITERAL glitch is happening and All the spiders start surrounding, but not getting too close to this….thing. Miguel comes from his quarters and is ready to attack said thing? But then when the glitch finally stops, they’re able to see it’s….it’s a woman? But not just any woman….it’s the reader.

hea in pure shock and has no idea what’s going on.

the spiders get close to her, checking to see if she’s dangerous or not, but they see she’s clearly not a threat. She’s shaking, unconscious, and……still pregnant.

Miguel finally snaps out of it, and tells the others to clear out the way.

He takes you to the medical bay and has the doctors give you a full checkup, once done, he’s left alone with you and his thoughts……

ok that’s all I got, I genuinely want someone to make this a fanfic😭 like PLEASE! The angst is TOO good😭🥹

[snowdice]

Creased Hoodies (Chapter 12: The End (For Now)) [Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sander Sides

Relationships: Logan/Virgil, Janus/Patton (background), Remus & Roman  (background)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Virgil

Appear: Patton, Roman

Mentioned: Janus, Remus

Summary: Virgil just wanted to go on his planned summer research trip to do an anthropological study in 2005 America. However, when he is taken off course by an unknown enemy, he ends up stranded in the summer of 2018 with no way to get back the the 44rd century. Luckily, 2018 happens to be where a certain illegal time agency is based, and he might have an in with one of its agents.

This is the intermission for the story Folds in Paper. It takes place between Folds in Paper Book 1 and Book 2. It also takes place after the first 5 chapter of “Messages for a Hacker” which are side stories in the universe. Check all of this and more out on my Folds in Time Master Post.

Chapter Summary: It's finally time for Virgil to return home.

Notes: Time travel AU

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

It took Logan a few days to ensure the timepiece and the distortion device were not at risk of blowing up the fabric of time itself. It took about a week more for him to properly study the distortion device Patton had brought home.

“It’s similar to what little we’ve seen of TPI technology,” Logan concluded. He debriefed them all while sitting on the couch with a notebook in hand. “It’s derived from the same technology unlike our time travel devices, which explains why it can block TPI timepieces but not ours. However, it has its differences, and this model in particular is rather shoddily made. While it was meant to create disorder, I doubt almost ripping time apart was its intended purpose, though that is almost what it did.”

“So, you’re thinking whoever made that is from my time then?” Virgil asked.

“Most likely,” Logan agreed. “Though it could always be a Roman and Remus type situation where the culprit was originally from another time period and ended up in your time accidently. However, the origins of this device were certainly the 4500s.”

Virgil glanced at the device set on the coffee table in front of them. It looked more like a 21st century light switch than something with the power to almost destroy time. Even though Logan had been able to study it, there were still many questions Virgil doubted he had an answer to. They didn’t even know why it had been made.

“Do you think whoever made this trapped me here on purpose?” Virgil asked.

“It is a possibility,” Logan mused. “You do work with the TPI and with Janus, a time agent who both is often caught in the chaos these devices create and who runs into Patton frequently. Plus, you know Remus, Roman’s brother, though we didn’t know of the connection before you came to be here. Also, we had a correspondence before this situation. It’s all quite a coincidence if it was not by design.”

“But why?” Virgil asked. “Sure, I’m connected to all of this, but I’m no time agent. All I am to the TPI is a walking history book. I’m not actually involved.”

“Well,” Logan said. “Perhaps someone knows something we do not. Or at least something we do not know yet.”

“Or maybe it’s just a happy accident!” Patton said, though Virgil felt it was more to break the sudden tension that had befallen the room.

“Accident or not,” Logan continued, “we do now have a solution to you being stuck here. I’ve managed to use this device to recalibrate my calculations and pin down its sister device’s current location in this time with much more accuracy. We now just need to get it and turn it off to allow Virgil to leave with his own timepiece.”

“Where is it?” Roman asked.

“A local trash dump,” Logan replied.

“Well, that should be easy enough to get,” Patton said. “Give Roman and I the exact coordinates and we can go and get it now.”

“Wait,” Roman protested. “Why are we the only ones who have to dig through a garbage dump?”

Patton gave him a meaningful look.

“Oh!” Roman said, eyes lighting up. “Oh right!” Then he scowled, remembering the detail that he’d be digging through garbage. “Fine,” he sighed. “The things I do in the name of…”

“Adventure!” Patton cut him off. “It’s an adventure!”

“We’re time travelers. There are so many more exciting adventuring opportunities than dumpster diving, Pat-Pat,” he whined, but he still got up. “I’ll go get changed.”

Patton stood up then and handed Logan his phone, so Logan could download the location of the distortion device onto it.

“We’ll text you when we’re heading back!” Patton said after changing and getting his phone back. “I’ll make sure to give you a 15- and 5-minute warning.” Patton said this with a wink. Virgil immediately hid his face in his hands.

“Do you think the TPI is hiring,” Logan asked as the door closed behind Patton and Roman. “I’d love to move to a different century without those two.”

“Time agents don’t usually live in 4500s,” Virgil said, face still hidden behind his hands. “They’d probably still place you in this century, especially since you’re comfortable here.”

“No escaping them then,” Logan sighed.

“Mmm,” was Virgil’s response.

He felt Logan shift on the couch next to him and a warm palm touched his wrist, gently tugging his hand away from his face. Virgil chose not to resist and let the hand fall away with a sigh. Logan smiled at him when his face was revealed, and Virgil smiled back despite how he could still feel heat in his cheeks.

“You will be going home this evening, I imagine,” Logan said.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. It hadn’t fully dawned on him yet. He’d grown used to living here in the past few weeks. He was used to briefly living in other places and times, but here had been different. He hadn’t felt like the observer he usually was. Because Logan, Patton, and Roman knew about time travel and what he really did, he’d had a chance to almost fit in with them. It would be weird to be back in his own time.

“I would like to give you a gift before you go,” Logan said, “If you’ll allow it.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, “uh, okay.”

Logan nodded and reached into his hoodie pocket. He glanced over at Virgil once he’d pulled his closed fist back out. “It is a ring, by the way, but this is not a marriage proposal.”

“Well, I’d certainly hope not,” said Virgil dryly. “An impulse elopement would be off brand for both of us.”

Logan grinned. “Very true,” he agreed. Then, he opened his palm revealing a small, plain ring as promised.

“What is it?” Virgil asked.

“This is an emergency time travel device,” Logan explained. “It’s not particularly complex. It can only take you here to this room between 2 weeks and one year from now, but if you ever find yourself in need, you can use it.”

He offered the ring and Virgil opened his palm. He studied the ring once it was placed in his hand. It was warm, though if that was from Logan’s touch or the technology running in it, Virgil did not know. It was surprisingly light and a rose gold color.

“It also has some security measures,” Logan continued. “It wouldn’t do to make an emergency time travel device that someone else might easily take from you. So, it’s designed to disappear when you put it on. You’ll still be able to feel it and take it off whenever you wish. It will become visible again once it leaves your finger.”

“An invisible ring?” Virgil asked, studying it even more curiously now.

“Yes,” Logan said with a smile. “Full disclosure, it is designed to store your space-time coordinates for up to 48 hours, but as I said, you can take it off whenever you wish and… I promise not to use it against you.”

Virgil looked away from the ring and back up at him. “Okay,” he agreed, surprising himself with the ease at which he accepted this. “Can I put it on?”

Logan nodded, and Virgil slipped the band on his finger. As promised, it disappeared as soon as it passed his first knuckle. He could still feel its unfamiliar weight on his finger.

“You must turn it three times counterclockwise to activate the time travel,” Logan said, making Virgil look up from the seemingly empty space on his finger. “It would drop you pretty much exactly where you are sitting now if you did.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said. He did not feel those words were enough to say when gifted something as impressive as this, but he hoped his tone said enough.

“Don’t use it against me?” Logan asked with a half-smile, and only then did Virgil realize just how much trust was being put onto him. He’d just been given a device that was linked directly to their base of operations despite Virgil working with the TPI.

Virgil shook his head. “I won’t,” he swore.

Deciding to throw his nervousness and embarrassment over last time to the wind, he shot forward to kiss Logan quickly on the lips.

They bumped noses and Logan’s glasses ended up askew in the process, but Logan didn’t seem to mind judging by his delighted laugh when they parted.

“Thank you,” Virgil said again because he still didn’t know what else to say.

“You’re welcome,” Logan replied.

~

The ring continued to sit on Virgil’s finger, invisible but heavy even after Patton and Roman returned from the dump with the device that had caused this whole mess. It was still there when Logan turned off the distortion device and Virgil’s timepiece reactivated. The knowledge of its existence was always in the back of his mind even once he’d made it home and gave the TPI and university an excuse as to why he’d left his trip early. It would stay there even when he received an email from an “unknown sender” making sure he got home okay.

Want to read more? Click below!

Folds in Time Universe Master Post

My Main Masterpost

[moody-alcoholic]

The Proposal

I've been sat on this piece for a few weeks now, while I was tidying up my work I came across it and cleaned it up.

I cried while editing this...

It definitely had something to do with this song conveniently playing in the background.

MASTERLIST

Enjoy <3

Summary: Simon x OC Established relationship (duh), proposal, 1.9k words. First draft dribbles, radio communication inaccuracies. I think I was on my period when I wrote this...

“I got you something.” I turned hearing Ghost walk up behind me. His hands were behind his back. I looked at him smiling. He bought one hand out and handed me a pager. I take it out his hands.

“A pager, wow whats the occasion?” I ask trying to hide my confused disappointment. I hear him chuckle.

“It goes with this.” He brings his other hand round showing a radio with red tape around it. I recognised it, it’s the emergency radio from the medical wing.

“Did you steal this?” I asked taking out his hands. He laughs.

“No I got permission, it’s a gift you’re the medic on call for the next 48 hours.” I look confused trying to hide my excitement. He leans down to whisper in my ear.

“Happy birthday.” I freeze how did he know? I look around hoping no one else heard. I look at him wide eyed. He shrugs.

“This is a good gift.” I say clipping the pager on my belt. Being on the base is so boring sometimes. Price and Ghost are always in meetings Gaz helps with training. I see them for lunch sometime but then that’s it. At least now I can feel like I’m doing something other then following Gaz around. I’ve always wanted to do this. Did he know? Did I tell him at some point? I bring the radio up to my mouth smiling as I press the button.

“Mike-charlie-one on-duty and receiving over.” I wait a second then there is a response.

“Roger that mike-charlie one, we have you scheduled for 48 hours of duty. Sergeant Williams confirm over.” I hug Ghost giddy with excitement I don’t care if people are watching, I break away I know he is smiling under his mask.

“Affirmative this is Williams taking call sign mike-charlie-one for the next 48 hours.”

“Roger that mike-charlie, have a good shift.” I want to say thank you but I’m too giddy bouncing on my feet as I follow Ghost back to the main building hooking the radio on the other side of my belt.

“How did you know by the way?” I ask.

“Know what?” He asks playfully. I smile. I don’t know why I’m following him but I let him lead me through to the mess hall. I had no idea it was lunch already. I was almost too excited to eat. I grabbed a cup of tea and a sandwich and followed Ghost over to Gaz and Price sat at a table. They stopped talking and look at me as I sat down.

“What?” I say. Price hands me an envelope. I look at him as I open it.

“Price this is a get well soon card.” I say Gaz laughs.

“It was all they had in the shop.” He says defensively. I open it, the message inside is a happy birthday one and Price’s signature, like he’s signing a letter or something. I show Ghost.

“You signed it?” He says looking at Price. I show Gaz and he laughs.

“That’s not how you sign a card Price.” Gaz says between laughs.

“I appreciate it, thank you Price.” I say closing the card. I look at Ghost. I didn’t want anyone to know really but as long as it’s just Price and Gaz I don’t mind. I sip my tea listening to Gaz and Price continue the conversation they were having before I sat down. Ghost’s hand found my thigh under the table. It took everything in my body not to move closer to him and lean on his shoulder. Price and Gaz finished eating then left for more training Ghost following after them a little while later. He seemed distracted by something but I wasn’t sure what. I would have to catch him later and ask him what was wrong. I spent the rest of the day going to typical calls, suspected sprain, insulin check, birth control queries. I didn't care how tedious it seemed, I finally felt like I was doing something useful, something I enjoyed. I took each call with a smile on my face giving in to the rush of doing anything medical related. By late evening after a wound dressing class I was tired. I threw myself into bed early.

I wake to the beep of the pager. I look over grabbing it and pressing it off. I pick up my normal radio and press the channel in.

“Mike-charlie-one how copy?” I close my eyes again waiting for a response hoping it’s just the night shift nurse asking for a medication change.

“Eh I was told to contact you about any incoming trauma.” I pick up the emergency radio. It’s still working.

“What incoming trauma?” I ask. I start getting out of bed pulling my pants and jacket on.

“One of the Majors called it in.” I shook my head, fucking Majors thinking they don’t have to follow protocol. I rushed out the room hoping I didn’t wake anyone. I did feel a rush through my body something I haven’t felt in years, the thrill of the chase. The adrenaline pumping through my veins knowing I was about to save lives.

I walk into the med bay pushing my hair back behind my ears. I see a nurse come out and gesture me through to the resus room. I shake my head for a second confused but follow her through pushing on the doors.

“I didn’t hear about any trauma…” I stop in my tracks seeing Ghost standing in the middle of the room. He turns around looking at me I do a double take he's not wearing a mask.

“Simon?” I say confused. I walk up to him, he smiled putting his hands on my shoulders.

“Hey.” He says, he’s relaxed, smiling.

“Hey.” I reply smiling as he pulls me closer. “What’s going on?” He kisses my forehead.

“I wanted to do something special but I realised I can’t wait.” My heart was thumping in my chest as I look at him.

“What do you mean?” I say looking around the nurse was gone. I looked back at him. He leans down and kisses me. I kiss him back wrapping my arms round his body, his hands find the small of my back. He pulls away using one of his hands to brush a strand of hair behind my ear.

“You know the first thing I noticed about you was how much you remind me of Johnny.” I chuckle.

“your eyes,” I say touching his cheek. "Johnny said they were kind he was right.” He smiles kissing my forehead.

“Remember our first mission?” He says, I nod.

“I didn’t think you would stick around, I thought we would scare you off. Then I watched you order those recruits around. Running that triage by yourself. I knew you were right for this team.” I smiled remembering that. We weren't even supposed to be helping, it was the first time I shouted at Price. I thought he would kick me off the team after that.

“When I came to Scotland, and we spent that amazing week together that was when I knew this was right.” I smiled.

“That was my thought too.” I kissed him again. Where was this going, I started getting nervous he must of picked up on it as he pulls away looking at me, our faces centimeters away from each other.

“You’re so perfect, you’re the light in my life you’re the reason…” He stops. I smile giving him a quick kiss.

“It’s okay,” I say stroking his cheek with my thumb. He brings his hand between us and opens it. There is a ring inside. My stomach drops and I gasp when I see it. Simon who doesn’t really do big romantic gestures but he is proposing in the most perfect way. I reach out and touch the ring. He pulls away so he can see my reaction better.

“It’s beautiful.” I say. It’s not traditional, it’s a blue stone. There are smaller clear stones running down the side, on a silver band.

“It’s a sapphire, your birthstone.” I smile taking it in my hand.

“You know you’re supposed to be down on one knee.” I say, my voice catches in my throat. I feel tears rolling down my cheeks. Happy tears so many happy tears.

“With my knees?” He chuckles. I look up at him getting a good look at his expression I can’t help myself I throw my arms around him burying my face in his neck standing on my tiptoes.

“Is that a yes?” He says into my hair. I squeeze him tight then let go.

“Yes.” I say. I reach down my shirt pulling out my dogtags, I move them looking round for the clasp. I open it taking the ring out Simon’s hand and threading it through. I watch it fall next to my tags. I pick it up looking at it next to Johnny’s tag. I know he’ll look after it while I can’t wear it. Simon touches my cheek and I smile at him. He’s smiling back, bigger then I have ever seen. I take a big breath in not being able to move my fingers from the ring.

“So are we going to tell Price and Gaz?” I ask. He looks past me nodding his head. I turn to see them looking through the windows of the door. I look at them confused.

“I made them watch the doors so we could be alone.” I chuckle turning back to him. I all of a sudden feel sad, my fingers running over Johnny’s tag. I miss him. I wish he was here. We made a deal to walk each other down the aisle if we ever got married. Now I have to plan a wedding, something I never really thought I would have to do. Simon seems to pick up on the change in my body language grabbing the hand I have clasped round Johnny’s tag.

“Hey,” he squeezes it and I look up at him. He eyes are soft, so kind, soft I have always found comfort in his eyes. “I miss him too, I know he would be so happy for us..” I stop him with a kiss.

“Does this mean I’ll be Mrs. Riley now?” I almost don’t hear the alarm coming from the emergency radio. I see his eyes flick down to my waist and I roll my eyes, picking the radio up to my mouth.

“Mike-charlie-one receiving.” I say trying not to let my voice falter. Simon chuckles kissing my forehead.

"Copy mike-charlie we have incoming 1 c1, 1 c2, 4 c3, 2 deceased, ETA 15 minuets how copy?”

“Wait there actually is an incoming trauma?" I say confused.

"Coincidence?" He shrugs, that does not answer my question.

"Copy incoming trauma, 15 minutes, 1 c1, 1 c2, 4 c3, 2 deceased. Over.” I touched Simon's cheek I had to work now but my stomach was buzzing with excitement. I know If I was just to go back to bed I would not be able to sleep. Now I could pool my energy into something productive.

“You can be who ever you want to be.” He says breaking away from the embrace. I put the emergency radio back on my belt. I need to call the doctor on call, I need to focus on the job. I can’t do that when he is standing in front of me with that look in his eyes. I stand up on my toes kissing his mouth quick.

“I’ll see you later.” I promise. He nods and heads through the doors. I let the ring fall against my chest as I watch him leave. I love him, I always will. This was the perfect proposal.

[a-chuffed-floating-panda]

Me to my dopamine atm:

“Hold out, hold out, you’ve been very diligent for over a month, editing and making lists for the main fic. A bit bad planning for the lists because one is way too long, and we should really split it up because I am getting tired of scrolling up and down to add details, but you’ve done good. You just posted something. Get to ch40, just get there and you have fifteen chapters left. Then because you have fifteen chapters left, you can work on that yangvik idea of yours.”

My brow is twitching at the moment. It’s short, unedited yangvik straight from the google doc, but it’s something 🥲 and there’s art for a lemur plush reference.

“…No,” Yangchen pulled back, hugging the lemur plush close to her chest, “I’ve had too much affection today. I need a break.” Her arm lifted in a smooth motion, her hand twisted and the wool blanket came off the bed, unfolded mid air, and came down, engulfing him. She did some minor flicks with her hand and tucked him in.

As an after thought, she grabbed the plush shaped dumpling he’d been holding earlier, lifted the blanket with her bending and pushed the plush into his chest before tucking him back in again.

The blanket smelled like her.

“Ani-la said I needed to be considered of someone feelings,” she started. Her eyes were still a little red, “some may want hugs when I don’t want to give hugs, so the idea of the blanket came to.”

Kavik hugged the dumpling plush. It was so soft. He had seen the lemur plush before, but not the other plushies.

“Why is this the first time I see your collection of plushies?” He asked. “What qualities do they have that I don’t…?”

“They’re soft, which you your chest isn’t.”

The lemur plush reference. Credit: kikwishhart on twitter/X

(Bby chen and Gyaltsen🥺 ‘Bad dreams and cute bison calves’ is the fic that introduces bby chen with such a large stuffed lemur toy that it’s almost her entire size. It’s my hc that she had a stuffed lemur toy as a child which then made her want lemurs of her own🥹)

[jeffbiblesupremacy]

Chat with Bible Wichapas about his career as an actor - GQ Thailand Interview

Translation below ->

The success of KinnPorsche The Series has become a turning point in many people's lives. One of them is Bible-Witchapas Sumettikul, who plays the role of 'Vegas’, and he’s gone from being an ordinary 25 year old guy to become a promising newcomer in the entertainment industry, catching the attention of many. 

Bible is from Chiang Mai. He went to an international school and he’s fluent in English. Before moving to Bangkok, he was studying Mechanical Engineering with a major in English at the Faculty of Engineering, Thammasat University, which he mentioned that he only has a few courses left to complete his studies. 

Previously, Bible did commercials and modeling until he got the opportunity to act in “Kinnporsche the series”, which was a leap in his life that opened a new chapter for him. He learned about the art of acting and unlocked his potential, breaking free from self-doubt. Slightly introvert, he has become an actor with a portfolio in fashion shoots and more. 

For example, Bible came today to do a photoshoot with RADO, a Swiss watch brand known for being "Master of Materials". He's featured with the RADO CAPTAIN COOK Special Edition, which stands out with its exposed mechanical movement under the “Art of Skeletonisation” series (Art of Internal Structure).

GQ: Tell me about your childhood and what it was like.

Bible: I’ve been in the international school community since I was a child, which has led me to have a lot of foreign friends. For example, the school I attended had around 90% of foreign students and the other 1% were Thai. It felt like studying abroad with such diverse of nationalities. However, during breaks, the lifestyle and the activities were like a typical kid from Chiang Mai. I like riding motorcycles up the mountains, visiting waterfalls, and exploring nature’s tourist attractions. 

GQ: That's why you speak English so well.

Bible: You can say English is my main language. I speak it more fluently than Thai because I have so many foreign friends, and I also speak English at home. But when I started working as an actor, I had to practice speaking Thai more. At first, it was difficult because I could think in Thai, but expressing it verbally was difficult. However, the more I practiced, the more I get use to it, so I'm more confident speaking Thai now and I feel better using it.

GQ: Is it an advantage, Especially for new actors who want to go international and success in the entertainment industry?

Bible: I think it's an advantage. However, currently the Thai entertainment industry may still prioritize the importance of speaking Thai. But I believe that, in the near future, actor may need to speak more languages.

GQ: How did the nickname "Bible" come from?

Bible: My dad became a Christian around the time I was born, and he wanted to read the Bible more often, so he used it as a nickname as a reminder to read the Bible more every time whenever he saw me.

GQ: People know you from the role of "Vegas" in "Kinnporche the series", where you played a charismatic and villainous character. But in reality, what's your personality?

Bible: If you get to know me and become close, you'll realize that I'm quite a playful person, but I can look calm and composed because I'm shy. I have a natural introverted nature.

GQ: Before becoming an actor, what kind of works did you have?

Bible: I was in a modeling agency so I got cast for various jobs, including ads and modeling, but I didn't get many opportunities. Even doing 30-40 castings, I would only get 2-3 jobs at most. When the casting for "Kinnporsche the series" came along, I saw it as a good opportunity to try acting, even though I had very little on-camera experience.

GQ: So it was a turning point in your life

Bible: I remember a lot of commercial casting where I had to speak with confidence but I could never do it, might be due to the pronunciation, or the language usage. However, I could manage some commercial with fewer lines. So playing the character "Vegas" in "Kinnporsche the series" was like a transformative experience for me. Apart from the character's strength, I unlocked many things within myself that I didn't know existed.

GQ: For example?

Bible: I understand myself better than before, in the sense of knowing what kind of person I am. Learning to act helped me to figure out what suits me best and apply it to my work and my real life as well. It has helped me to improve and become a more complete human being. 

GQ: Once you entered the world of acting, what did you come to understand?

Bible: I came to understand more about being a human being. I began to empathize with others, understanding what ordinary people need or what drives them to act in certain ways. There are reasons and consequences within themselves.

GQ: Has your introversion lessened over time?

Bible: I think it's like adjusting a mode within myself. It's like I'm not afraid of meeting people, but I just have a lack of confidence in myself. Everything comes back to myself. So changing my perspective that meeting other people is like meeting friends has made my work smoother and brought me more happiness.

GQ: What do you like about being an actor?

Bible: I love being on set. I appreciate the fact that everyone has important roles and responsibilities, and we all have to communicate and work together. With passion, we all strive to give our best. It's inspiring to fight together and create the best possible outcome for our work.

GQ: How do you see your career path in the entertainment industry, both as an actor and in other roles?

Bible: Honetly, I haven't looked too far ahead. I never really thought or dreamed that I would come this far. When I got cast for "Kinnporsche the series", I thought it was a good opportunity to show my acting skills, and I did my best. It was a great experience, and the series turned out to be more successful that I could have imagined. Everything has exceeded my wildest dreams. From that point on, everything has been a bonus in my life. No matter what happens in the future, I feel that it's all worth it.

GQ: And lately you've been working more in the fashion industry.

Bible: I think it's very fun. When I get to do fashion shoots, I feel like I'm just expressing my true self, and seeing myself as part of the complete picture makes the photos much more perfect.

GQ: How do you feel about doing the photoshoot today with a RADO watch?

Bible: It's my first time shooting with a watch brand, and I feel extremely proud to have the opportunity to shoot with RADO, a Swiss brand known for its fascinating innovations, especially their high-tech ceramic that is lightweight and durable. I'm delighted to work with GQ and RADO. Thank you very much.

GQ: Which watch do you like most and why?

Bible: The Captain Cook model, named after the explorer (James Cook), is very special because it has everything - from high-tech ceramic material, plasma color dial, skeleton-style display showcasing the watch's internal mechanism, sapphire crystal, to being water-resistant up to 300 metres. It's ready to go through anything. I think it's a watch that suits me well. It has a subtle appearance but with intricate details, which align perfectly with my adventurous lifestyle.

[your-divine-ribs]

Daddy

Words: 4.7k

Another old request from these NSFW prompts: 11. "Be a good girl/boy for mommy/daddy” / 55. "It's my thigh or nothing, I'm not helping you get off” / 60. "Come for me, you've done so well”

Use of ‘Daddy’ not in a fatherly way // I forgot how dirty this one was I’m so sorry ha ha // can’t believe i’ve just had to read and edit it whilst my bf’s sat on the sofa across from me fml 🤭

Imagines Masterlist Main Masterlist

"Va-an..."

You're feeling bored, neglected and more than just a little sexually frustrated. Your boyfriend came back from tour last night but he's only given you the barest of attention. Usually he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you after four whole weeks of no physical contact. Smutty text message exchanges and steamy phone sex have been keeping you both going whilst he's been away but now that he's back you don't want to settle for anything less than the feel of his lean, hard body against yours whilst he fucks you unforgivingly into the mattress... or up against the wall... or over the kitchen counter... or anywhere actually... as long as he does it goddamn soon before you explode!

"What's up babe?"

He's asking but he's hardly interested. He's not even looked up from his acoustic guitar, fingers nimbly moving up and down the frets, pausing every now and then to scribble something in the worn notebook on the sofa next to him. The tip of his tongue's poking out the corner of his mouth and his brow is pulled up into a small crease. He's the picture of concentration, and you know it'll take more than a few sulky pouts and whiny comments to steal his attention away from music making. You try anyway.

"I'm bo-red..."

You drag out the word, sighing deeply for added effect, reclining further on the armchair. You're sitting directly opposite Van, watching him, waiting for him to look up so that you can catch his eye. He does but it's only fleeting.

"Sorry love... you know I've got to get this song finished by Friday. The label are expecting everything to be ready for the album so I can't let them down."

You huff stroppily, aware that you sound like a spoiled brat but not being able to contain your frustrations, hoping that Van might take pity on you. "But what about me? What if I feel let down?"

"Y/N..." He looks at you then, properly for the first time, a tinge of annoyance clouding his features. "This is important."

"Well... aren't I important?"

He softens slightly, but you can tell that he's still frustrated. "You know you are... but I'm back from tour now. We can spend loads of time together when I've got my shit together and everything's ready. But right now I gotta concentrate."

Song-writing usually comes so easily to him, as naturally as breathing, so the fact that he's been working on the same few lines for the last thirty minutes must be exasperating for him. Maybe he just needs to take a break. Maybe you need to distract him... just for a little while. It might help the creative process.

You shift in the seat, your short skirt riding up around your thighs, pretending that you're just getting comfortable. You glance down like you're completely unaware of the effect that you're having on him, but you can already feel the heat of his gaze on you. It's instinctual... the way you two are drawn together. You've never shared this kind of chemistry with any other partner before. It’s addictive... and you so desperately need a fix.

Still not looking at Van you lift a leg up off the floor, draping it over the arm of the chair, absentmindedly swinging your foot, aware that in this position he'll have a perfect view right up your skirt.

A loud twang sounds out followed by string of quiet curses and you eventually look up, feigning surprise when you see Van glaring back at you.

"What?"

Your innocent tone doesn't match your body language, your chest pushed out, your legs spread enough to give Van a tempting glimpse of what he's missing.

"Stop it... I mean it."

The warning doesn't deter you though. You just look back at Van with a challenge in your eyes.

"But I'm not doing anything... I'm just sitting here being bored."

"You know perfectly well what you're doing, but I'm not falling for it... not this time. Now can't you go and be bored somewhere else and just leave me to it?"

You weren't expecting this. He sounds resolute and snappy and disappointment sinks in you at his words. Maybe you're losing your touch? Or maybe he just doesn't find you as desirable as he used to? The thought pains you and you try to brush it aside but the worry lingers. You never thought the ardour that you two shared would ever dampen but now here he is, turning you down when you're practically offering yourself up to him on a plate. Your thoughts stray to the passionate nights just before Van left for tour when you'd played around with roles. You'd always loved Van's dominant side in the bedroom and it had turned him on like crazy seeing you all compliant and needy for him. His good little girl. Maybe you just need to try a bit harder... ramp it up a notch.

"Okay, okay, I'll be quiet, you won't even know I'm here, I promise."

You smile to yourself as you swing your foot even more, knocking it against the side of the chair. It's not a particularly loud noise but you know it'll be a distraction for Van. You can see his jaw clenching up tight, a tell-tale sign.

"Y/N... what did I yell ya?”

He doesn't look up. He doesn't need to. You can hear it in his tone, his nerves are definitely frayed. So you drop the bombshell, a provocation that you know he won't be able to ignore.

"You're such a mean Daddy."

His eyes flick up at once, meeting your wide-eyed gaze and petulant pout, a deadly combination of little girl lost and tempting vixen.

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me..."

He holds you there under his scrutinising stare, his expression hard but his eyes pooling with heat. It sets off a warm glow between your thighs where desire simmers. You spread your legs even further, catching your bottom lip between your teeth, waiting.

It doesn't take long for Van's gaze to travel downwards, and that's the deal-breaker.

"You're not wearing any panties."

You release your lip as a smirk takes over.

"Oops!"

If there's music to be made it's temporarily forgotten. In one swift motion Van's swung the guitar around and off his lap, propping it up against the side of the sofa. He cocks his head back, watching you, his legs splayed and his hands palm face down atop each thigh.

"Oh, baby, what did I say before about distracting Daddy when he's working, hey?"

The warmth between your legs takes on a life of its own. You can feel the wetness gathering there and you squirm where you sit, finally pushing your thighs together, needing to feel something.

"Sorry..."

"You're not really though are you?"

It's a question he doesn't want an answer to. You both know it. The anticipation builds as you look at each other from across the room, only broken when Van pats his right thigh, finally speaking in a soft but subtly commanding tone.

"Better get yourself over here then and we'll see just how sorry you really are..."

You push yourself up from the chair quickly, eagerness spurring you on, your heart racing as you step towards Van. He watches your approach, a coolness on his features that belies the hunger in his eyes. You come to a stop just in front of him in the gap between his legs, looking down on him, waiting for his cue. When you're playing these games he has all the control.

"So... you want my cock then... is that it?"

His brazen words arouse you even more and you shift where you stand, surreptitiously rubbing your thighs together. You're a ball of pent up sexual energy, fidgety, and you don't know what to do with your hands, your fingers catching the edge of the hem of your skirt, running it through your fingers.

"Uh-huh," you finally say, looking at Van in that coy way that you know drives him crazy.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that. You're gonna have to speak up."

This is how it goes. When you're feeling small and submissive he always makes you spell it out to him. He knows damn well what you want but he likes to hear the filthy words fall from your sweet little mouth, drawing it out of you with your whispered words and flushed cheeks.

"Yeah, I do want it," you say, but that's not good enough. He raises an eyebrow in a condescending fashion, staying silent, knowing you'll speak soon.

"I do want it... your cock..."

You squirm where you stand, crimson staining your cheeks, the throb between your legs intensifying.

Van's lips pull up into a sly smile as he takes in your need. "Are you forgetting your manners angel?"

You fist at the material of your skirt, bunching it up around your thighs, feeling shameful. But that's part of the turn on. You can feel the stickiness of your arousal coating your inner thighs.

"Please Daddy..."

"Good girl," he utters, and you feel those two words reverberate straight to the heart of your core. He doesn't take his eyes off yours as his hands go to his belt, unbuckling it slowly.

You're expecting him to order you down on to your knees and you find yourself licking your lips automatically at the thought, but to your surprise he suddenly stops, just short of unfastening the fly of his jeans. There's a wicked glint in his eye as he speaks.

"Maybe we'll do things a little differently tonight. What do you say huh? Maybe I want you to show me exactly how much you want it first."

He reaches out his hands to curl around your hips and he draws you in gently. You shuffle forwards, bumping into his leg.

"What do you mean?"

He doesn't answer straight away, but you feel his hands moving around the waistband of your skirt, fingers dipping under it, probing for the zip. Your heart thuds as he eases it down slowly, smiling up at you as the material starts to slide down your hips. Your skirt pools around your feet where it comes to lie on the floor and you step out of it, kicking it aside.

"That's better, wanna see that pretty little pussy of yours," he says, his voice smooth.

"Mmm..." He hums and licks his lips as he gazes upon you and your breath catches in your throat as you imagine the feel of his mouth on you, but it never comes. Instead he pushes a finger gently into the slickness between your lips, softly rubbing over your clit in a circular motion, drawing a moan from you. You push your hips forward automatically, needing more.

"So wet baby," he purrs. "Is that all for me?"

"Yes Daddy... it's all for you."

You reach out a hand to rake through his hair, hoping to bring him closer, tempting him to delve his tongue where you need it the most, but he resists, moving his hand away and looking up at you instead.

"So needy aren't you? Come on, come here, be a good girl for me."

You don't understand at first, but it soon becomes clear when he pats his thigh again, his other hand reaching for your hand, pulling you even closer.

"Come on... sit right here, that's it."

You comply, stepping around so your legs are on either side of one of his, and you lower yourself down as he gently guides you, letting out a shaky breath as you come to rest fully on his thigh, your bare skin flush against the roughness of his jeans.

He grasps the hem of your t-shirt, yanking it up quickly and you lift up your arms to allow him to pull it over your head. It gets cast down on to the floor, leaving you completely naked while in contrast he's fully dressed.

"You're fucking beautiful, ya know," he mutters, but he doesn't touch you, he just lets his gaze roam over your body, fire in his eyes.

"Van... what..." you begin, but he cuts you off with a finger swiftly pressed against your lips, instantly silencing you.

You shift where you sit, your breathing deepening already at the feel of the pressure where you've been craving it all evening. You have the urge to move, to grind on him, but you hold yourself steady, looking at him with wide eyes, waiting, anticipating how he might pleasure you.

But it's still not happening, the smirk on his face growing wider as he speaks, his free hand smoothing down over your hip and then holding you steady.

"This is what you wanted isn't it? To get yourself off? Well... go on then... show me how much you want it."

You're confused for a moment and it must show on your face as you search his expression for a hint of a lead. His finger hasn't left your lips either, but you go to speak, knowing he'll quiet you but trying anyway.

"But Van..."

He does speak then, cutting you off. Slow and teasing.

"Oh... what? You thought I was just gonna make you come?" A soft chuckle before he continues. "It's my thigh or nothing. I'm not helping you get off."

And then he leans his head back, his forefinger trailing down to hook under your chin which he tips upwards so you'll meet his gaze head on.

Your whole body feels hot, thrumming with the promise of a pleasure he's now denying you, your punishment for needing him so desperately. And you do need him, you need him so badly you can feel your hips twitching already, the small sense of relief as your heat presses against his clothed leg.

"But this isn't fair," you whine sulkily, pressing yourself on to him but needing so much more.

His thumb immediately presses against your lips, quieting you again. "Nuh-uh, no more complaining. I think maybe we'd better find something else for that pretty little mouth to do."

As he speaks he traces first your upper lip and then your lower one with his thumb before it comes to rest at the seam of your lips, pressing firmly until you grant him access, letting him in. He slides his thumb into the warm wetness of your mouth, desire clear on his face as you start to obediently suck on it, pursing your lips as he pushes it further in until it fills your whole mouth, pressing down on your tongue.

You love it when he takes control like this, you feel vulnerable but so desired, and you know if you follow his lead and obey his commands the rewards you'll reap will be immense, made even more wicked by the subtle degradation as he commands that you pleasure yourself whilst he watches on.

"Come on then... you're so fucking desperate for me aren't you? Show me how much."

You start to move, tentatively at first, pushing your hips forward and back, your aching clit rubbing against his denim clad thigh, making you shiver. You hadn't actually expected it to feel quite so good, but it soon becomes apparent exactly how aroused you are as you find the urge to press down even harder taking over. You raise up your hands to hook over his shoulders to steady yourself and give you more leverage to grind against him.

"You're gonna have to work a bit harder for me," he urges, and you moan around his thumb as he bumps his leg a little, sending jolts of sensation through you.

The atmosphere is heavy, charged with the sexual desire you both feel and your arousal is growing by the second as you rub yourself harder on his leg. He slides his thumb even further into your mouth, overwhelming you, your eyes pricking with tears as you fight the urge to gag.

Your hands fist at the material of his shirt over his shoulders, fingers digging into his back, clawing at him as you buck your hips. Heat's growing in your core with every thrust, the divine contrast of the roughness of the denim against your throbbing clit. You're so aroused that you can feel wetness flooding between your legs and starting to drench his thigh.

"Look at the mess you're making," he taunts, looking down at his leg and you follow his gaze, embarrassment flushing your cheeks at your obvious need, your juices soaking his jeans. "Messy little baby... look how wet you are..."

His voice is low and teasing and he tuts and shakes his head. The shame turns you on all the more and you increase your efforts, pushing your hips down harder, the most sinful of moans falling from your lips at the delicious friction on your clit.

He has the control but you know you have all the power, you can see it in his eyes, the desire you spark in him. The magnetism you two share is addictive.

"I want you to come for me. Can you do that?"

You feel close but it's not enough, heat building in your body with every thrust, your hips undulating at a fast pace now. Choked groans and ragged breaths fall from you, urgent gasps when your clit finds just the right pressure against the taut muscle of his thigh. But it's not enough. You need more to tip you over the edge.

"I asked you a question. Use your words angel."

His voice is soft but with a commanding edge.

Of course it's impossible to speak clearly with his thumb invading your mouth the way that it is and he knows it. All that comes out is a frustrated whine. He smirks at your exasperation, bouncing his leg again which just makes you moan even louder. Your clit is throbbing, your wetness increasing the sensitivity as you grind back and forth. You're so desperate for your release you think you could cry.

And then he suddenly slides his thumb from your mouth and you release it with a pop, a string of saliva dripping down your chin.

"I can't... I can't do it," you whine quickly, all frustration and breathless need. "Please... I need more. Please Daddy."

His eyes darken even more, his pale irises almost black, pupils dilated with so much lust. His tongue darts out to swipe at his lips which glisten enticingly. The way he's looking at you excites you, there's so much craving and awe in his eyes, the intensity of his stare heightening the thrill.

"What do you need, huh? Tell me."

You want him to give in, you need it so bad, frustration swelling in you like a wave. The temptation of your peak glimmers like a tiny spark deep down on your core, glowing embers just waiting for the catalyst to spark. But this isn't how it works. Your desperation is what drives him, your neediness like a drug to him.

"Need you... please... want you to fuck me."

He slowly shakes his head, his seductive smirk both maddening and arousing. "Nuh-huh, you gotta come for me first, then maybe I'll consider fucking you..."

You increase your efforts, grinding on him shamelessly, a light sheen of sweet coating your skin. Your pert breasts bounce lightly as you thrust and buck, nipples stiffened and standing proud. Every movement makes you whimper now, your slick pussy deliciously sensitive from the friction, his jeans soaked through.

Maybe he takes pity on you, or maybe you're just too hard to resist. His gaze drops to your lips, lingering on the plushness of them, raspberry red and bitten from your frustration. In a swift motion he closes the gap between you, pressing his mouth against yours.

His kiss is urgent and passionate, stealing your breath as his tongue slides against yours. You moan into his mouth, your grip tightening on his back, fingers digging furrows through his shirt. His strong hands grasp at your hips, driving your body down hard against his leg. He pushes and pulls you back and forth with ease, increasing the pressure until your body starts to tremble as each stroke rubs against your clit just right, making you writhe. It feels heavenly now, your climax so close you can taste it.

He pulls back to watch you, pushing your hips down impossibly harder, his tight grip on you sure to leave bruises. You reward him with the sluttiest of moans, loud and guttural as you feel the spark ignite in your core, your pussy clenching tightly.

"Fuck... I'm so close," you gasp, teetering on the edge, looking at Van with wide pleading eyes, silently asking his permission to come undone.

"Come for me baby... you've done so well."

At his words you let yourself go, heavenly bliss radiating through every fibre of your being, your mind and body exploding with your pent-up, shaking release. Van watches on with lustful awe as you tremble and spasm with each blissful wave, moaning like your world's falling apart. Curses fall from your lips as your body finally goes slack and you collapse against him, pushing yourself further up his thigh so that your bodies connect.

"You did so good for me," he coos into your ear, one hand caressing over your hips, the other rising up to smooth lovingly over your hair and down your back. "Is my baby happy now, huh?"

You bury your face into the crook of his neck, fingers clinging on to his shirt, still gyrating lightly on his thigh even though the sensitivity is making you tremble. You feel good, but it's still not enough. He's just too addictive. In your new position you can feel the thickness of his erection pressing against his jeans, tantalising you as you imagine it sliding into you as he rocks his hips against you at a punishing pace.

"Mmm... want more... want you..."

You let your mouth graze his neck as you speak, feeling his pulse skittering wildly under your lips. His breathing is harsh and deep in your ear, and you can feel the body heat radiating off of him. Despite his cool demeanour you know damn well that his control is stretched dangerously thin, you know that him watching you fall apart like that will just make it all the harder for him to resist. All it'll take now is a tiny push to tip him over the edge. So you do it.

"Please Daddy... want you to fuck me hard. I need you so bad. Want you to fill me up."

His breath catches as you press your soaked core against the bulge at his crotch, tempting him even more. You hear a throaty laugh before his voice sounds, low and deep.

"Oh you greedy girl, you always want more don't you?"

You nod your head, coyly, whispering another breathy please which fires him up even more, his softness falling away as the hand that was stroking your hair winds quickly around a handful at the nape of your neck, pulling your head firmly back.

You gasp from the sensation but you don't fight it, letting him manoeuvre your body to the side so you fall completely across his lap, your head pressed down face-first into the plush cushions scattered on the sofa.

"I'll give you more alright. You wanna be fucked huh? Want me to fuck you hard? Make you moan like the needy little slut that you are for me?"

You mumble out a yes, your voice muffled by the cushions.

Van shoots up on to his feet in a flash, eager now, his earlier reluctance to pleasure you completely overridden as his desire takes over at the sight of you wet and aching and ready for him, prone over the sofa. You hear the unmistakeable clinking sound of his belt buckle, then his zipper being pulled down in haste.

A spike of an exhilarated thrill shoots up your spine in anticipation. This is what you wanted after all, your seduction finally paying off. You go to brace yourself up on your hands but you barely have time to adjust yourself before his hands are on your hips, strong fingers curling around them, pulling you back on to him. The head of his cock butts up against your ass a second before you feel him rubbing his tip against your slit, begging for entrance.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you now..."

The feeling of his cock sliding into you is so blissful your mind spins away from reality. He enters you hard and fast, true to his word. The slick from your cum is lubrication enough that it's not painful, but it still makes you cry out, the sudden stretch to accommodate him wrenching the breath from your lungs.

Van lets out a gravelly groan, pure relief at being inside you. He buries himself in you up to the hilt, and you feel your body shudder as he strikes your g spot at an angle that's almost too much to bear. Almost but not quite, a sweet overwhelming sensation that's simultaneously too much but yet somehow not enough. You push your hips back, begging for more.

"Feels so good..."

Van's only too eager to oblige, pulling you back firmly by the hips on to his cock as he drives into you again, the harsh sound of his skin connecting with yours mingling with your choked whimpers.

"Baby you always take me so well," he grunts, a sharp slap delivered to your ass before he’s pulling back time and time again, each thrust seeming harder and impossibly deeper until you feel like he might tear you apart.

Your hips fit his large hands so perfectly, like they were made just for this purpose, his cock so snug inside you, stretching you out so all you can feel and think about is him.

Your trembling arms suddenly give way and you fall back down on to the cushions, your face pressed into the material. You have no control now. All you can do is shiver and moan and twitch as he bucks into you over and over again, relentless until your mind has fogged over with pleasure and sensation.

"I'm gonna... uhhh... I'm gonna..." his words drift down from somewhere above, petering off into a strangled groan as he gives one more thrust, his hot seed spurting inside you, his body falling forwards on to yours, driving you further into the cushions.

His panted breaths fall choppily against the skin of your neck, his arms enveloping you tightly. You wriggle against him, still feeling him inside you, starting to soften as you press back into him. Your bodies collapse sideways on to the sofa with you as the little spoon.

He hums against your neck, little contented noises as he nestles his face into you, breathing you in, not wanting to let you go whilst he basks in the warm glow of the come down of his high.

"Sorry for interrupting you... I was really trying not to distract you, honestly!" You giggle mischievously and hear him chuckle breathily in response.

His fingers dig lightly into your sides, tickling you gently. You squirm, yelping softly in protest but he doesn't let up. "Bloody liar! You knew exactly what you were doing."

"And I got exactly what I wanted..."

You can hear the smile in his voice. "Don't ya always? You know damn well I can't resist ya. Don't know why I even bother trying to be honest."

You accompany your words with a wiggle of your hips against his and you feel him finally slip out of you, his release starting to drip down your inner thighs. You're so wet from your own arousal and full of him, but it's not an unpleasant feeling. In fact it's anything but. You dimly wonder how long it might take for him to get hard again.

"Mmm... that's 'cause I'm your good girl."

"You certainly are. Love ya babe, more than anything."

He presses a soft kiss to the skin of your shoulder and you nuzzle into the warm comfort of his arms.

[wawamouse]

Wip wednesday~

Damn… I was trying to aim to get this current wip I’m working on done by today, but I’ve realised I might as well give up that dream because even if I do manage to wrap it up today, I still have to edit :S

I worked a teeeeeny bit on Destiny ch.5, which is mostly getting delayed now because I need to do a smidge of research to write part of an upcoming scene 💀I the meantime, I’ve turned to the previously mentioned wip, and I’m also working a bit more on the sequel-not-sequel of Drawn and Holden (It’s not necessarily a sequel but it’s set at the same time that a sequel might have been). Figure out the whole plot for that! And I also figured out what I’m going to do for Oz Magi, so to be honest, after I finish my current wip, I’ll probably start chipping away at that. I think last year I went right up to the deadline and barely had time to edit, which I don’t want to deal with again this year :P (Fingers crossed).

Let’s see… Oh, I’ve also been given permission to translate some of @/frausleepy’s Oz fics. I translate Chinese videos over on my main blog but I’ve never tried my hand at translating narrative fiction, so it’s been an interesting challenge so far.

Anyway, I wanted to find a snippet from the Almost Done wip but none of it really stands out in snippet form 🙃 (there’s a lot of overarching Miguel pondering), so… Timeloop AU snippet (oh yeah, I’ve been working on that one here and there, too)!

***

“You going somewhere?”

“Yeah,” Alvarez replied finally, standing and whirling around.

“Breaking outta here, asshole. You wanna come? You usually get run over by a truck. Pretty nasty.”

Chico took an automatic step back. “The fuck are you talking about?”

There was a cool look in Alvarez’s eyes—a little too cool. Too calm.

His gaze flicked over Chico. “Not today, huh?” He started to push past Chico, the force of his body moving by finally jolting Chico out of his uncertainty.

Breaking out?

Alvarez’d lost his mind for real this time. 

His escape the last time had been pure luck—riding Busmalis’s coattails. Before Busmalis’s tunnel, nobody had ever escaped Oswald before, and Alvarez wasn’t about to change that. He wasn’t no tunneling genius, and if there was another way out, someone else would’ve thought of it already. 

Right?

Chico grabbed Alvarez by the coat. “What are you saying? You know a way out?”

It had to be a trap. 

Why would he just tell Chico something like that?

Alvarez only twisted out of Chico’s grip. “Look, follow me if you want, but don’t mess up my timing.” He walked over to the doorway and peeked outside into the rest of the unit. After a moment, he pulled the pod door open and began heading swiftly toward the front of the unit.

Chico caught the door before it could swing closed.

What the hell.

He followed.

“You coming or not?”

Chico hesitated, frowning. It had to be a trap. Why would Alvarez just tell him something like that?

“Fuck off,” he said uneasily.

Alvarez stared at him for a moment and shrugged, pushing the pod door open with his back. “Yeah, probably for the best,” he muttered. “Give the truck driver a break today, right?”

[grantmentis]

are there good journalists on the woho beat you'd recommend?

Sadly a big problem we have is that a lot of very good reporters end up not being able to stay in womens hockey for a long time because a lot of outlets haven’t had a dedicated space for it, and so much is changing, but here is who I think is the best that are consistently on in no order

Here are my recommendations!

Erica Ayala and her outlet Black Rosie Media I think is THE standard in women’s hockey. Ayala had done bylines for women’s hockey in various outlets and also appeared on a few different locked on networks which can be found in muckrack here

The Ice Garden is the longest running women’s hockey blog. It’s a rotating cast and I like some authors way more than others but I think if you’re just looking for start and probably has the most extensive coverage. It’s one of the only sources to get English language coverage of international league play and a lot of times players or former players will guess write. I am also a fan of the analytical work that An Nguyen has done, for example this article. Some stuff is paywalled, some isn’t, some is paywalled then becomes available later.

Kyle Cushman has recently been on the PWHL beat specifically, including some more long form / deeper look articles as well as being at practices with information, and I’ve enjoyed his work. He mainly writes for The Score

Christine Roger of Radio Canada is probably the main French Canadian reporter for the PWHL and team Canada

Hailey Salvian of The Athletic is usually pretty credible, tho it’s very clear that she is very careful not to be critical of her inside sources in the PWHL and I think had sometimes been a little bit of a PR arm she’s not going to say something straight up false or anything and is pretty in line with hockey reporters on that stuff. That said the athletic is usually paywalled and I really do not like the athletic as a paper overall just from a “owned by the New York times who is constantly spreading transphobic misinfo.” But if you just follow her socials and stuff you’ll get the breaking news and she’s usually accurate there.

Not a journalist but if you’re just looking for an aggregate of roster transactions and rumors pwhlreport on most platforms will do that for you, I’d say they’re accurate a solid 85% of the time and it’s little opinions or anything just who what when where and why

More statistical analysis than news but I enjoy Giants in the Crease for all things goaltenders and appreciate that they do a good job with the ncaa and international goalies as well

Women’s sports highlights on twitter will get you literally every single women’s hockey highlight from every tournament ever I swear it rules. Unfortunately am unsure if they’re on other platforms

I don’t think he’ll be writing anytime soon because of his new job, but if you want to get into the data world, the PWHL Montreal director of analytics Mikael Nahabedian has a substack page

EDIT: Karissa Donkin of CBC is a recent addition to the best I’ve enjoyed!

These are just some I like that I think do a good job of keeping it straight. Unfortunately I am limited by my own language barrier and haven’t found really anyone consistently covering the SDHL or other leagues in the English language that I’ve enjoyed, but if any of my followed from other countries have their own writers who I may be missing because of this language barrier please share

[mildiva]

So I’ve Decided To Start A Blog About Music And Parties

the idea came to me on a break at work after leaving my phone at home, my mind never clearer… i should be blogging about music. pitchfork is dead, first of all, and third of all it’s something i cannot live without, so why not?

I’m not sure of the “” format “” this will take but right now i’ll just write things as they come?? and part of my love for music is of course parties. they’re still so life giving to me and i still think nothing is better than dancing with gay ppl some of whom are my friends and hearing them dj. some of them are even good! it’s just spaces of eternal and endless flowing love. anyways.

arianka is back!! when i first heard yes, and?, i thought “alright miss grande this is cute!” and it’s grown on me ever since. I’ve been anticipating this album, seeing what direction she would go. i’ve been listening to sweetener every day for the last few weeks mostly because the eating 4 free series on ariana recontextualized her… everything, i guess?? i’d always seen her as just like a Nickelodeon product industry plant which as a certified quirky-not-like-other-girl syndrome haver did not interest me. i was still listening ofc but i wasn’t invested like i was in say lady gaga (and oh how the tables have turned on stefani the pharmacy tech but i digress!) anyways the five part e4f series on her, how she got started with looping covers of imogen heap on youtube, her serious involvement in the production of all her albums, really digging into the pain and scrutiny she’s been through from her time with The TV Producer Who Shall Not Be Named to the donut incident (which i always thought was a slay) to the literal Manchester bombing, her relationships especially with mac miller… not gonna call myself an arianator or w/e but i am a fan now, especially after relistening.

before i get into the album i just want to say this: the music video for we can’t be friends was adorable! it’s very sad that we don’t get music videos anymore because they’re not profitable or useful for marketing. still haven’t seen the yes and video but i’ll get to it. my main point is that give evan peters a stingy little mustache, grow his hair out a little longer, and he could pass for spongebob slater! so many people on twitter are mocking him for his looks/ariana for being with him but gassing up evan. look, ethan is… not a guy i would approach in a bar let’s say, but i’d let him buy me a drink, you know? and if we’re to believe ariana on supernatural and ordinary things, they have something special! tweets will go viral about “every hot girl needs a medium ugly bf” but she’s not allowed to do it? anyways.

if you detect a pivot in tone here, it’s because i’m no longer blogging with a sour cream donut and 3/4 of a dunkin latte with oatmilk and nothing else fueling my body, sun glowing through the clouds and full of optimism.. there’s a harried blogging now while i try and finish this before i hop in the shower to get ready for a hookup tonight. also, i’ve been thinking and listening to eternal sunshine again, reading and digesting lyrics and of course many many stan tweets about it.

first, i’d like to amend something i stated earlier that i refuse to edit: evan peters represents dalton her ex(?) husband, not ethan. (side note: i wonder if she’s thought back to the line in thank u, next where she says she hopes she’ll only get married once. either way the song is still a smash!) i of course forgive my confusion because, for reasons unknown even to myself, i assumed the majority of this album was about the forbidden romance that soon overflowed into her public relationship with spongebob, but it’s not! this is very much a breakup album and nobody is bored in it.

i’m really fascinated by this because ariana took such a turn in disappearing from the public eye after getting together with dalton (which was certainly aided by the pandemic). as a non-stan, i couldn’t tell you what little she HAS been putting out, but if the inimitable joan summers couldn’t find pictures of her for a two year period, it’s safe to say she was lying low. and yes there have been jokes and supposition about “ariana wasn’t allowed to talk about the divorce as per their agreement but she sang about it~~” BUT! if we take that into consideration (and also rely on the journalistic analysis of e4f), most of the negative press and comments came from dalton and his camp. divorce agreements and technicalities of speech aside, i think she chose a much kinder way to speak about their relationship. even she says she wishes she hated him (knowing very little about their relationship, I’m happy to hate him off of the line about him turning the tv up on her crying) but she doesn’t! even with songs like the boy is mine, supernatural, and ordinary things, she really details a story of a relationship disintegrating with both her and dalton finding other people. it’s certainly not the cheating homewrecker story everybody was running with months ago. even if the arianators turn on dalton, he’s still spared any real damage to his reputation because she doesn’t paint him as a monster, scoundrel, narcissist, etc. not to get too “a man can laugh but a woman can only chortle” about it, but i hope people who wrote ariana off listen and reconsider that despite the tabloids and the lyrics, none of us know what went down in that marriage.

okay but what about the music? this will maybe be the shortest part of this blog (oops!), but I’m really fascinated with the narrative around and in the album. the music, I’ll probably need to listen for another week before i have anything worthwhile to say (i need to go full geek on it). keeping it brief, it felt very airy. sonically it sounds like the imaginary room the cover was shot in: spacious and full of sunbeams. something about some of the songs (wait for your love and yes, and?) felt very 80s to me, but i’d need a psychoanalyst to explain that to me. you still hear an rnb influence throughout, but why wouldn’t you? obviously the boy is mine, but true story as well with the bass straight out of “pony” by ginuwine and a drum pattern (pattern, not sample, don’t get it twisted) similarly to “don’t hurt yourself” by beyoncé. my personal favorite of the album was imperfect for you, but i’m a sucker for a pedal tone that creates dissonance, what can i say?

if you’ve actually read this far thank you? im amazed that you read a 20 mile long blog that frankly, is not even well written yet. xoxo 🐇