#trying to get back in my writing flow

[planetsage]

< ☰

📌 nsfw, f!reader, dom!cho, mirror, masterbation, biting, "good girl."

“i know you can go faster than that, mama, show me … mmhmm, theeeeere you go. show me how you like it” choso’s amethyst-esque eyes reluctantly pull and tear away from where your little fingers slip and fumble in and out your pussy to look up into yours through the naturally wooded full-length mirror,

“i wanna watch”

he smirks before dipping his head to press short kisses down the angle of your bare shoulders, his hair following suit, grazing and tickling your warmed skin before sinking his teeth in, making you whine as your soaked fingers drip and drool with sweet sweet arousal, playing with your nubby clit. rubbing and grinding against yourself like a bitch in heat.

and he laughs.

very clearly enjoying himself; his cock pulling against his shorts to poke at your back. enjoying watching tears well and line your pretty eyes because your fingers just don’t feel the same. don’t stretch out and mold your silky walls. don’t reach to press and kiss up on that little spongey spot you love, don’t fill you up like his do.

“chooo need yoursss” you drag out, glassy tears slipping down your cheeks like drops of rain, hips canting up into your sticky palms.

your head falls back against his broad shoulders, “ple—please”

his cock throbs and twitches at the sound of your pretty little pants and whines, gaze darkening and falling from your oh-so-pretty flushed face to your little pussy. “awwwww poor thing, i knowww.” he reaches down to pet at your clit with his thumb making you twitch, “just can’t get off without me, hm?” waiting for your little nod in response.

“i’ll help you, mama don’t you worry. just wanna watch how my pretty girl plays with my pussy when i’m gone. can you do that for me?”

his big calloused hands move to grab at your wrist. slowly .. bringing them up to his lips before pushing them past, his warm tongue scissoring, cleaning your fingers as he dips and bobs his head.

“mmm, fuck put ‘em in,” a web like trail of spit drags from your fingers to his lips as he pops off them.

and you listen, of course you do, his good girl, sinking them in your little cunt with a small whimper at the stretch, but it’s still just not enough. you need more more more. you need him.

“hmmmpph it’s not- wan-”

he takes hold of the little dip in wrist again, harder, his fingers sinking into your skin to push yours into your greedy cunt.

“can’t even touch yourself without me, can you? i gotta do fucking everything for you” his tone drops to a rasp, as he slams your palm against your clit.

“such a dumb lil’ thing, makin’ me fuck your own fingers into you. makin’ me make yourself cum.”

© planetsage 2024 all rights reserved. no part of this may be reproduced in any form.

[hariboz]

“forget? you?” — shb x gen!reader

a little something i wrote to get back into my writing flow!

ex!hanbin has been plaguing my mind for a while now. the type to make the heart wrenching decision to break up with you to follow his dreams in hopes of finding what he wanted in the spotlight, ready to sacrifice the comfort of your embrace to chase what he has been dreaming of for years.

“thank you for always being by my side, but i don’t know if i can be happy if i don’t try one last time. i don’t want to break your heart, angel, but will you let me go?”

and you did. of course you did, how could you not? you could always see the sparkle in his eyes when he showed you a new choreography he made, the longing in his gaze when watching others dance on the same stages he could only dream of being on. you knew he was happy with you, you knew he loved you. he was happy, loved and comfortable, yet unfulfilled. because while you would give him every single star in the night sky if you could, no amount of your love would sustain his desire to become the shiniest star of them all himself.

so you let him go, gave him your blessing and told him to better make it to the top so your love was not given up in vain.

you had never seen hanbin cry so much before.

“i promise, angel. i’ll carry you with me in my heart.”

and truth be told, ex!hanbin held his promise. he made it. a leader, a highly sought after visual, a mc, a vocalist.

he’s not your binnie anymore. he’s not the one waking up an hour before your alarm to make you breakfast anymore. he’s not picking you up from work with that sweet smile and a smoothie in his hand. he doesn’t try to teach you his choreos anymore. he doesn’t giggle at you while fixing your hair anymore.

on days where it’s especially hard you catch yourself wishing you had refused, had kept him close to you. had begged him to stay back, to not sacrifice all the serene happiness you shared; but then you snap back to reality, the realisation that these selfish thoughts keep crawling their way up making you feel guilty.

it’s a sick twist of fate, you think, when you happen to walk past a wall of support ads for him plastered along your way. you don’t know whether to laugh or cry; whether you should be elated he is receiving an amount of love you could never have given him or whether you should be hurt and bitter that all this meant more to him than you seemingly ever did.

it’s not fair to compare like that, you know that, but it’s not like he’s there to defend himself. he’s never there anymore.

in your inner frenzy, the internal fight between wanting to support the man you still love oh so deeply and the selfish wish to have kept him for yourself, you bump into someone, misty eyes barely focused enough to notice the person in front of you.

you look up briefly to apologise, wanting nothing more than to get away from this overstimulating throwback to your better times, only to realise that the devil — angel — himself is standing right there.

right there, in front of you. sung hanbin. your binnie.

you know it’s him immediately despite the mask he’s wearing. the all too familiar sparkle in his eyes and his pretty lashes that you know all too well blinking back at you in shock, his eyes desperately darting over your face in an attempt to drink in every little change and detail.

you’re just about to speak when he turns at the sound of his name, which is when you finally realise the crowd standing not too far away, observing him like hawks and pointing their phones at him.

right. he’s idol binnie now.

so you bow politely and leave, trying your best to manoeuvre through the crowd. your heart is beating in your ears, your thoughts all jumbled and confused. you haven’t seen him in so long. not in person, anyways, and now you’re running away? what else could you have done?

it’s like you’re on autopilot, not even noticing you’ve made your way back home until you’re stood in front of your apartment. it’s then when you’re about to unlock your door, planning to crawl into bed and never come back out, that your phone vibrates.

first once, then twice.

“i don’t know if you want to talk to me anymore, but i was happy to see you today. even if it was really short.”

“i miss you.”

“you didn’t forget?”

“forget? you?”

“i could never. i love you.”

”did you ever think about dating an idol?”

ex!hanbin who, i think, would give it all up to follow his dream only to realise every single version of his future had you in it. and now he’s here, trying to win you back, hoping it’s not too late. because ex!hanbin is not only a romantic, but also in love. deeply, unabashedly in love.

[generalsdiary]

Moze x Jiaoqiu

warnings: none

word count: 900~

description: just them being domestic (pre-2.5 events)

moze is the type of husband who always cleans, keeps everything neat, he will run (quite literally) anywhere and do any errand without complaint, nothing is too hard or difficult for him. he is v protective, „I promise I will bring him back“, nothing is stopping him from getting his husband back, he is confident in his abilities, to the point he isn't even worrying. he always attentively listens to jiaoqiu’s ramblings, his full attention on the foxian. he will eat anything jiaoqiu puts before him, no matter his preferences. uttering simple praises after the meal and never letting his husband clean up.

at night he cuddles with him, being the big spoon, holding his husband close, face buried in the orangey pink hair. like a touch starved kitten, he gravitates to him during the day, always hugging him- backhugs are his favorite. jiaoqiu always smiles, a sparkle in his eyes with each embrace. moze is often quiet, very thoughtful- usually ending up blunt in his words but not cold, never cold. the care and love for each other shown in the soft words, gentle embraces and lingering gazes. moze doesn’t do causal touches, his hands don’t wander to jiaoqiu’s soft tail, or even softer ears, or to caress him. he doesn’t want to overwhelm his husband or make him uncomfortable. yet when they stand close he bumps his nose against his. and when he is so so tired he rests his forehead on the shorter man’s. recharging, seeking comfort, love. luckily for him, his husband knows his main love language is physical touch. jiaoqiu bringing his hands to cup his cheeks, thumbs caressing the rough skin. he misses the smile that brightens the foxian’s face, his eyes shut relishing in the sensations. such a sensitive and responsive man. jiaoqiu is the only person moze allows to touch him, to drag those soft fingers across his scars, through the silver hair, to see him shirtless. he is the only one with whom he makes and keeps eye contact. moze is the type of husband that even without being close jiaoqiu can feel his touch on him. sitting across him, over a hotpot. lilac eyes on him. full of love. as if he is caressing his husband’s cheek at that moment. making jiaoqiu’s chest feel warm from the feeling of such a silent expression of admiration.

on the days jiaoqiu voices that he feels tired a quick response is given in turn “I can carry you.” a blunt, straightforward, and the same offer every time. he is more than happy to carry him + he enjoys showing off for his hubby. not caring for the public opinion or any observers; it doesn’t even cross his mind, jiaoqiu’s happiness the only thing on his mind. sadly, he is always rejected (occasionally making him pout). moze doesn’t even know why (painfully obvious why, the rare blushed jiaoqiu further confirming it). shadows are his safe haven, but jiaoqiu is his peace. they fill each other's needs, like puzzles fitting together, completely domestic in their behaviors; perfect for general feixiao’s safety and well-being. despite working together they don’t get tired of each other. work is work and their house is home.

coriander is not allowed under this roof and no big lights are ever on. when they have guests, jiaoqiu compensates with many small lamps, fairy lights, and a bunch of candles. unscented ones. otherwise, they would clash with the meal. sometimes, jiaoqiu will light a scented candle, but it won’t be lit for longer than an hour, otherwise, he would get overwhelmed due to how sensitive his nose is to smells. moze being the clean freak, and insistent on maintaining really good hygiene and not strong perfumes so he can do his job perfectly would just make jiaoqiu purr if he could. type of husband truly only for him. jiaoqiu is quite a social butterfly and he drags his husband with him, who will grumble a bit and then go along, and behave politely to the best of his capabilities. moze cannot read a room to save his life, short in his sentences and straight to the point despite pondering his words prior, they end up always coming off blunt. he means no harm and what he says is usually of little matter, and none of it holds any weight to him when all he needs is to hear his darling chuckle or gaze at him and all is well in his world. the only result he could possibly ever wish for.

and when they kiss? the lighting and shadow with fire and spice? the I talk a lot, flirtatious, rarely flustered with I listen to you with heart eyes, mainly unaffected but you make me smile. well… they keep it private. such actions feel too personal and intimate for them to be shown in public and given for anyone to see on display. they hold it too close to their hearts, it matters in a different way to them. something near and dear. they won’t be caught showing pda, not even holding hands- well they rarely hold hands either way. it is behind closed doors and in the privacy of their home that their lips meet, and hands wander, leaving soft touches in intimate places that they’d never do in public (unlike many others). it means too much to them.

[direwombat]

wip music monday

long time no see re: (quasi) writing related tag games y'all! it's good to share something again! tagged by @marivenah, @aceghosts, @inafieldofdaisies, @g0dspeeed, @voidika, and @simplegenius042 over the past week or so to share some music inspiring me and my wips

katc ch 7 is still the bane of my existence, but hey, i've got brainworms for a new original project (featuring a slightly modified version of syb as "The Daughter of Cain"/a bounty hunter operating in the wyoming territory circa 1873), so here's are two songs that have struck some font of inspiration for that

Tear the roots up from the floor Board and tar against the door Murder! Murder! Murder! Murder! Sink the tooth into the wood Still the horses with a hood Murder! Murder! Murder! Murder! Raise the book and cast the oil Fingers in the father's soil Murder! Murder! Murder! Murder! Murder be thy name, out, out Murder be thy name

Well damn your stubbornness and damn your pride To hell with your truths and heavenly lies Blood in the water Blood in the sand Hounds of hell been doggin' this man Put my grave next to daddy's stone If I lay dead 'fore I make it home It's been so long cuz I've been runnin' With a smokin' heart and a broken gun

tagging: @statichvm, @cassietrn, @trench-rot, @harmonyowl, @fourlittleseedlings, @carlosoliveiraa, @purplehairsecretlair, @adelaidedrubman, @finding-comfort-in-rain, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @locustandwildhoney, @testyfestyenthusiast, @strangefable, @alexxmason, @deputyash, @josephslittledeputy, and anyone else wanting to share some music! (taglist opt in/out)

[levwrites]

Lies

"Stop!" Their lover struggles in their restraints, looking up with pleading eyes. "You can't do this to me, please."

"I'm sorry, darling," they say, avoiding their gaze. "But you knew I have projects, and those projects require money. Your father's offer is too generous to be refused."

"He'll have me publicly killed, you know that. How can you-?"

"Well, then you shouldn't have hidden your identity from me," they snap, and turn away from their lover. Their chest aches and they ignore it, trying to focus on the future. A future that will not have their beloved in it. "Had you not lied to me, we wouldn't be here now."

[heartbeatbookclub]

FINALLY

[bunnyrafe]

i fear i’ve lost my ability to write because i haven’t been able to add a single sentence to my WIPs in a few days…

[kuromi-hoemie]

hhhh talking about my writing was fun but 30 tags is not enough.. yes i have 3 major influences but i have minor ones too.. it is a lovechild of my favorite things.. writing is so fun and i have no self control or a concept of pacing myself i will sit there for 16 hours and get hit with every status effect but by god does it all just flow out of me. I've always been a music person yes but i also used to write a lot into early adulthood until The Incident™

but i am ready 2 jump back into it. i think comics are a great middle ground between the two mediums so i don't get As into writing bc i kind of started going crazy last time 🫡 i can take a more structured approach to it that forces me to pace myself and think about it differently. i love art.... i love making things i love knowing how to do things i love knowing how to play things i love having so many creative outlets, even if i don't do a lot of them regularly lol. it is enriching 😳 and nice to know that it's always there to come back to when u want.

[goldkirk]

as I'm going back over my past history and items and journals and years, I come across all sorts of things, like the pencil I saved from that so-precious memory from second grade, and a pair of flip flops I've been missing for two years, and [checks notes] the modern-high-school-AU-kidnapped-by-a-serial-killer story I wrote in late high school jdfsjdfsjkjlksfd

[kirnet]

i tried a solo journaling ttrpg for the first time by playing chalice and it was super fun!!! i needed a brain break after fighting actium, and it had the perfect amount of prompting while still letting you take the lead on the creative decisions and connections. i came away from it with a surprisingly coherent and circular story given the fact that it was all randomized

[daisywords]

wish I could get (and stay) in the zone with writing like I can with drawing

[charmac]

PLEASEE POST A NEW CHAPTER OF THE SUGAR DADDY FIC I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES 😭😭😭😭😭

Updating All These Nights tonight and then Sugar is next to be updated, promise promise.

[thoughtfulseason]

tomorrow my enemy comes back to fencing AND i’m giving my copy of my translated little prince to coach cause it’s his birthday on sunday. should be fun if both of these don’t come back to bite me in the ass or however the saying goes

[ha-youwish]

i love writing neku sakuraba with many undiagnosed mental issues

[tethered-heartstrings]

how do you get story ideas? i love creative writing but i can never find ideas for what to write about. do the ideas just come to you? do you do anything to inspire you?

it is a bit of both. sometimes ideas just come to me, especially pwps. a scene pops into my head and then i build a bigger scene/story around it. usually like "wow that wound be hot if xyz..." and then figuring out how to make that happen. sometimes it is something vague that inspires me like "werewolves" and then my brain goes 100mph and thinks of things that could fit into that kind of story/idea. for my first long fic, i had an idea but nothing super specific, and as the story progressed, a big monumental scene would come to me and i would build up to and taper down from that moment, versus me thinking of all the steps in between first. a good chunk of that story was me writing as i go (not ideal for me personally)

the most specific thing that inspired me to write, which was the first time it has really happened, was seeing @hannibalhadalittlelamb's art from an ask prompt. and the best way i can describe it is i saw it and the story started to unravel in my head. i didn't have to "think" about it, my brain made pieced something together

what's helped me is anytime i get an idea, even if it is vague or silly, i write it down and add any details or scenes or ideas that could fit. they may not all make the final cut, but it helps my brain formulate an idea. once i have disjointed ideas, i "sketch" out a plot and make the ideas in a linear timeline.

i also have some mutuals i bounce an idea off of and see if it works, and then in explaining it to them the plot starts to "write itself" if that makes sense. the big idea organically branches itself out to smaller, more specific details

i struggle with creative writing, but writing for a fandom and having pre-established characters that i understand helps a lot. i just take those personalities and sometimes canon events and reshape them to fit a new situation. i never force an idea. if it comes to me, and the vague plot "writes itself", then that's awesome. but if i stare at a prompt and nothing comes to me, i just scratch that and move on. i chase the lightbulbs that turn on, but i won't bother with making the ones that are burned out work.

[yuukimiyas]

૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝ᵔ ▽ ᵔ⸝⸝꒱ྀིა good mornie!! its sunday funday!! <33 this sunday is a lot of catchin up on chores & stuff for me :3 but you’ll see me around for sure!! ILYSM!! lets all make this sunday the greatest!! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳​ˋ)੭✧