#valaruakars

[sweatandwoe]

Lotta good questions on that ask meme sooooo 12, 17, 24 + 57 😚

12. How does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

I think it's a double-edged sword in a way.

No feedback can be really demoralizing for fics, but it does happen. Not every story you write is going to be popular. Some stories are just for you, and maybe a few buddies. They're for you to go back and read and enjoy, I have a few fics I've written that I like to still go back and read. I have a bunch of fics that I have shared with only one person or a few people because I wrote it just for them.

However, on the other side of the spectrum, I once got around 50 comments in like 2 days/1 night on one chapter in SI (think it was chapter 8, when Reader gets fired). And as a result I felt very overwhelmed and I rushed out the next chapter because I was not thinking it was going to have that sort of impact on people. I felt bad that so many people were upset over what happened, and I think if you read chapter 9, it feels more jarring because of that. Like there should've been an extra chapter in there. But I also feel like we analyze our own works so much because we're trying to translate our thoughts into a google doc, and if it doesn't match perfectly it can feel like it's inadequate even though the person reading it loves it.

So yeah, write for yourself and if something blows up in popularity, take a deep breath and focus on your story and know that people are already enjoying it, keep at your own pace, so you continue to enjoy it. People are commenting because they felt something from it, and they liked it and try to keep that in mind (cause I did not but now I know)

rest under readmore

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

Anything else. Going for a walk, taking a shower, listening to some music, play video games, etc. It's my brain saying 'we need a break' and you should listen to it or else you will burn the fuck out.

24. Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

Anyone who says to buy/subscribe to a writing program.

Programs are a great tool to help you write or organize your writing, etc. However, just buying a program will not have you becoming an amazing world builder or writer. I always see 'helpful programs to increase your writing flow' or like writing YouTubers getting sponsored by these programs, but I always find you should only get one if you are already feeling like 'yeah world anvil will store all my world-building things' or 'campfire can help me organize my plot/characters because there's so much stuff in my head and I'm so excited'. Some of these programs would be amazing if you can't physically write as well, but a lot of their accessibility tools also seem to be a bit lacking. You should only buy a program if you feel it will help you in some way, and also always use a free trial before you buy cause some of the programs are just janky as shit

Also there are a lot of free alternatives to a bunch of these programs

For me, the best outlines/writing comes when I write it out by hand and then have to type it. It just makes me think more about it and it's more visually nice to my brain to write out like a brainstorm or draw out a timeline or outline to follow first before translating it to a doc.

57. Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished? 

If I notice something jarring while I'm writing, I'll edit it. But I usually wait until it's finished to do all my editing. Run read aloud over it and listen to where I truly fucked it.

Get to Know Your Fic Writer Asks

[weltraum-vaquero]

Oh my gosh wait to add to the hairless boys!!! I think they are so nakey because of just how piltover is, it's very perfect and prestine and I'm sure it's just one of those fucked up beauty standards where if they arnt hairless they arnt clean :O a tragedy for my boys for sure

I think Victor would slay in one of those tiny mustaches lol, it would be fitting for his face shape 🤔

That could definitely be an option and I’ve considered that too! It would definitely make sense, but — riddle me this. Why isn’t Heimerdinger looking like a persian cat if the Piltovians want to be so hairless and pristine, huh? I’m kidding. Please don’t take him to the dog groomer.

Anyway I wanted to see just how nightmarish Viktor would look with facial hair and I. Hm. I kind of. I kind of need to be inside him.

[astudyincontrasts]

Prompt idea….Viktor accidentally walks in on the reader having quickie sex with someone in the lab….👀👀👀…. But he can’t look away…. 👀👀👀……and while she’s with the other person, she accidentally says his name…. 😱

Oh nonny. You wicked thing. If you insist. This one’s for my beloved dirty little degenerate-pervy Viktor truthers. You know who you are @dad-dumpster @valaruakars and… oh yes, dare I say it even my precious sweet darling @arcanescribbles

Viktor POV - NSFW

TW: Voyerism, oral- f receiving, fingering, masturbation, slight angst, embarrassment, even more masturbation, peeping tom? More like peeping Viktor, is that a panty fetish I see? Oh my. MDNI

He realized too late that he should have recognized those sounds; the desperate soft huffing of heavy breath, the slickly wet noises, the stifled moans.

He’d been too wrapped up in his thoughts at first to hear them, or to put two and two together once he did.  Too involved in the research and books balanced up to his chin and mug of coffee wobbling precariously by its handle in the hook of his finger as he struggled along through the door at the back of the lab, leaning heavily on the cane tucked up under his armpit.

The hour was late, late enough Viktor was used to being the only one there, and the shock was significant as he surfaced from the distraction of his plans and rounded one of the large prototypes that littered the back of the lab.  Struck to a paralytic frozen stillness as he glanced up to find the pretty biochem assistant sat up upon a workbench, her shirt wide open and skirt hiked around her waist, with one of the many nameless tech engineers between the spread of her bare thighs, head buried under the rumpled hem of her skirt and her hand clutching desperately at his dark blonde hair.

Breath froze in his lungs and blood ran cold as ice in spite of the fire-hot flush he could feel flooding his face from the collar of his shirt right up to his ears.  Face burning, heart a clenched stone, all he could do was stand there, staring as the tech lifted his head and rose, clearly aiming for a kiss that missed its landing as the assistant’s head turned away and his mouth instead made due with mauling biting kisses along her throat as he pulled one cup of her bra down to pinch and tug at the pretty tautness of a nipple until she was keening and writhing in her seat.

“Dirty thing.  Like it rough, hm?  Little priss.”  The tech chastised as his hand closed over her upper arm and yanked the assistant off her seat upon the workbench only to bend her roughly over the desk immediately across from them.

Viktor reeled backward, ducking behind the prototype.  The books and coffee in his arms jostled and he frantically juggled them and his cane.  He ought to leave, ought to hurry back the way he’d come and immediately find somewhere else to be.  Forget what he’d accidentally seen and leave the two lovers in peace.  Seconds away from dropping everything and being found out, he managed to deposit the pile of books and the coffee on a small table, nearly knocking over an open tool kit.  He grabbed at it frantically before its contents could rattle and in a hot panic watched a ratchet handle go rolling toward the edge.

He snagged it mid-air and let out a silent sigh of relief. 

Behind him the moans had picked up volume again.  Wanton little noises tugging insistently at his attention until, in spite of himself, he’d set the ratchet down and was peeking out from around the edge of the prototype.  

She was bent forward over the desk, facing his hiding spot, and for a second he nearly jerked backward, sure she’d spot him.  But her eyes were closed, prettily flushed face upturned and mouth hungrily agape as she rocked against the desk, resting upon her forearms as the tech behind her busily - and from the sounds of it - viciously fucked her with his fingers, grinning down at her bare bottom.  His hand clenched the back of her skirt up as his other busied itself between the cleft of her sweet bottom and part of thighs, the slapping wet noises positively obscene.

It was filthy, gorgeous, exhilarating and mortifying.

The soft curve of her bare breast wobbled gently, that succulent flushed nipple practically dragging across the desktop as she arched her back into the attentions.  Eyebrows knit hard over eyes shut tight, lips glossed and opened enticingly into a lovely little ‘O’ of want.  She was so pretty, so undone.  That prim little assistant Viktor could never bring himself to start a conversation with, whom he’d watched with vague little stabs of jealousy as she easily conversed with Jayce or anyone else.  Her little tight smiles and witty asides, her keenly intelligent observations and the way her hair was constantly in a state of coming undone or falling out place in soft tendrils.  

It was fully undone now, as beautiful a mess as its owner.

The tightness in his groin was unbearable, tent pressed hard against the front of trousers as he watched in strangled silence as that lovely girl began to tremble, her fingers curling into fists upon the desk, nails scraping against the smooth, cold metal tabletop as she gasped and bucked.  Viktor found his own hand pressing to the aching constriction of his clothed cock.

Much like watching, the pressure felt both sickeningly painful and dizzyingly good.  He allowed himself one slow, palming stroke and practically had to stifle his own quiet moan.  And then…

“Ahhhnn!  Y-yes, mmn… Viktor!”

The world screeched to a halt.  Suddenly you could hear a pin drop in the spacious, open lab.

“...What did you just say?”

The tech’s question was coldly accusatory, and Viktor, who’d jerked himself wide-eyed back behind the bulwark safety of his hiding spot, thinking wildly that he’d been spotted at the sound of his name, found himself once again torn between fleeing the scene and the fact that he couldn’t seem to make his feet move.  She’d… she said his name.  But she hadn’t seen him, she couldn’t have.  Not with eyes shut tight.  That meant…

“Dex, I’m… I…”

Viktor chanced another hidden, one-eyed glance around the shield of his prototype to find the tech had pulled the poor girl upright and was glaring at her in undeniable disgust.

“You’re what?”  The tech prodded icily, and when instead of answering the girl just crossed her arms over her vulnerable bareness and stared guiltily at the desk she’d just been bent over, he took the liberty of filling in the blanks for her.

“You know, this whole time I was wondering why a such a stuck up, straight laced little slag like you was suddenly so willing and eager to mess around with someone like me when you normally can’t be buggered to even acknowledge anyone who hasn’t gone to your precious academy is even in the room.  Did you even know my name before tonight?  None of you lot got any respect for this crew.  We do all your dirty work, crawl into the guts of whatever new inventive way to die or lose a limb you’ve all come up with, and not a single one of you seems to know we’re anything more than another moving part of your machines.  Just faceless cogs.”

He snorted a laugh.

“Or I guess faceless cocks, huh?  Just a human toy for you-”

His tirade cut off with the sharp sound of a ringing slap.  The assistant he’d been berating stood there in stony silence, open palm still lifted, just daring him to try for a second out of her as he rubbed his stinging cheek.  For a breathless moment it looked as if he just might press on with his insulting tirade.  Instead he grabbed the discarded jacket of his uniform and left in a hot blooded huff, muttering under his breath and slamming the door on his way out.

Viktor sagged back against the prototype, eyes rolling to the ceiling in a mingling of gratitude and relief.  If it had escalated further, what would he have done?  A physical altercation might be beyond his scope, and usually the weight of his position of authority and sang-froid calm was more than enough to wield the command he needed in any given situation.  But confronting a man who’d just been called by his name in the heat of passion?  And with the obviousness of an erection still straining at the front of trousers?  

Nothing about that would have ended well.

As it was, he heard the girl heave a sigh of dismay followed by a soft snarl of utter frustration and the clatter of something on a table go flying with what was doubtless an angry smack.  Viktor was just about to resign himself to waiting until the coast was clear to finally sneak away when the next noise caught him off guard.

More of those soft moans, the quietly wet enticing sounds that had him peering back around to find her bent back over the desk, bare breast cupped in her own hand, fingers rolling and tugging nipple to stiffness once more and her other hand shoved down between her thighs as she finished what the tech had started.

“Ah, Viktor… nnh, please yes, please!”  She was going at it with a desperate, almost angry need, huffing stuttering breaths and savaging her lower lip between her teeth as she fell right back into the building crescendo that had been so unfortunately interrupted by her own indiscretion. 

Viktor grit teeth as he was pitched right back into another impossible choice.  What… what if he walked out there?  What if he walked up to her, tucked the fall of hair back behind one ear and slid his fingers down to replace her own.  What if he asked her to say his name like that again, for him.  Would she let him?  Let him feel how wet she’d got imagining him, while she wished another man’s touch had been his.  How would she squeeze around his fingers, his cock?

He could practically smell her arousal from here, what would it be like close up?  How did her skin taste, her mouth?  That sweet slick gloss dripping down her thighs?  How many times could he get her to say his name that way and what would it take until she was gasping it hoarsely, brokenly, begging.  Would she be prettily embarrassed if he went out there, or terrified and appalled?  

Her soft, needy little sighs of his name were driving him mad.  So hard that the ache in the tightness of his balls was all consuming, that all he wanted, no - needed- was to get himself out of his pants and, oh Janna, please, buried in her.

But he couldn’t.

Couldn’t do any of it.  If he went out there now, how could he possibly explain why he’d been watching for so long?  What he was even doing there or why he felt it was in any way appropriate to interrupt her… her… oh gods, she was so close to orgasm, he could hear it.  The way her breath picked up, the way she trembled upon the desk she leaned over, the quickening pace of the wet sounds of her fingers sliding in and out of herself.

And how she was pleading his name.  Like… like he was somehow the one who could offer her the release she was chasing.  Gods, it sounded so good.  She sounded so good.

If he pulled himself free from his trousers she was sure to hear the frantic way he needed to fuck his fist.  No way he could keep himself quiet, or at least quiet enough to keep himself hidden. Palm rubbed hard at his length as he sucked breath in near silent hisses through clenched teeth, thumb running the sensitive ridge of the head of his cock pressing through soft, straining fabric of his pants.  A sweetly hot spiral of weighted craving coiling taut in the pit of his belly, tensing hips, leaving lean muscle of stomach and thighs tensing to a slight tremble with the need to thrust.

How many fingers did she need?  Two dripping digits stuffed tightly into the clenching heat of herself, or three?  Watching her face as she lost herself was intensely arousing but the thought of seeing her from behind was destroying him.  The soft curve of her bottom, pretty, softly swollen, slick lips just peeking between the cleft of cheeks, her fingers shoved to the limit inside herself, wet just dripping from knuckles as she…

“Vik…ahn!  Viktor, pl please… yes, ah.  Fffuck!  Viktor!!”

One last little stifled shout of his name and she panted a stuttered, broken moan before falling still.  Viktor watched in desperate fascination as she sighed, gone boneless on the desk for a long moment.

Janna, to collapse against her; to kiss the heat of her flushed cheek or run hands over the little shivering tremble of hips, to soothe and help her catch her breath, to taste the little bead of sweat that ran down her temple and beside the tender curve of her ear to her throat.

She picked herself up off the desk as he watched, still gripping the aching stiffness of his cock through his clothes.  Watched her stand on weak legs and slowly redress herself, with a regretful, or perhaps it was resigned, look on her face.  Watched her rebutton her shirt and fix her hair as she wandered out of the lab, tugging at the back of her skirt.

Viktor waited until the door swung shut, waited a good three minutes at least after the sound of her footsteps had faded until he struggled out from his hiding place, the strain in his pants making walking more difficult than usual as he shuffled over to where she’d lain, stroked fingertips over the heat of her that still lingered, fading upon the metallic desktop.  There was a smudge of sticky wet on the edge of the desk where her damp fingertips had brushed it and he was just about to drag a finger over the faint gloss of moisture when something on the floor caught his eye.  

A tiny black crumple of lace.

Viktor bent painfully, stiffly, and snagged it, rising to let it hang from one finger as he regarded the discarded cloth in confusion for one second before the shape of it suddenly made sense.

Her panties.

She’d left her panties.

Long fingers curled tightly into a fist over the soft, lacy garment and a second later he had his pants open.  The fist clenching her panties braced upon the table as he frantically, desperately fucked into the tight grip of his other hand, mouth hung open as he rushed straight over the precipice of his release with a delirious surge that had him hunched over with a sharp jerk, a soundless long groan dying in the gape of his mouth as lungs convulsed.

It was both the most intense release he’d ever had and the least satisfying.  Over so quick, and nothing half as wonderful as all those delicious little fantasies he’d conjured watching her, listening to her.  Not nearly as good as she would have felt.  

Coughing slightly, struggling to catch his breath, Viktor righted himself.  Hissing softly at the tender ache of abused flesh left too long constricted and then fisted far too roughly with precious little lubrication, he put himself away.  

There was barely a half second of consideration for the panties in his grasp before he tucked them into his pocket.  He could have, and perhaps should have left them where he found them - but what then?  If the cleaning staff found them perhaps inconvenient questions might be asked.  If instead the next morning their work colleagues found them then even more inconvenient scandals might get bandied about, no doubt leading to her embarrassment if that jilted tech ever spoke up. 

As Viktor made his way slowly toward the door he’d come in from he briefly considered tucking the pretty, lacy things into the drawer of her desk.  It was a sweetly devious thought, to be sure; to watch her discover her underwear laid neatly in her desk and have to wonder who knew, who put them there.  Perhaps he could leave a clever little note beneath… no.  No.  Then she’d know, and no one could ever know that he’d just… just hid there and watched.  It surely didn’t matter how sweetly she’d moaned his name or begged for him, if she knew he’d seen everything and done nothing?  No, she’d hate him, find him repulsive. 

Viktor paused at the door, hand sliding into his pocket, the delicate lace brushing the tips of his fingers as he glanced behind himself.

No one could ever know.  

And those panties were coming home with him.

[heraldeez]

Straight Laced (Tugging Loose)

Viktor x Reader | 1.7K | NSFW

Warnings/Tags: semi-public fondling, teasing, oral, Viktor in a custom corset, and the cruelty of chocolate covered strawberries

The romantic holiday finds you and Viktor out at a restaurant – a rarity for two workaholics – dressed up in finery – also a rarity, for two oil-covered lab rats.

Truly a momentous occasion. And you are insistent on perverting it.

A/N: Okay, so I missed Valentine’s. By a lot. But that’s okay because time is a suggestion, and rules are fake. :^)

And hey! It’s still February! For another whole hour!

Anyway, thanks to @linky-dinks for the corset idea, I really needed someone to point my brain in a direction. And always, thanks @valaruakars for reassuring me that - as stated - time is fake and simping is eternal.

Enjoy! :]

---

Viktor's fork clatters briefly before his hand smacks down to silence it, eyes wide.

Your right shoe sits innocent and abandoned beneath the table, socked foot resting instead against the inner seam of Viktor's thigh. Tracing - back, forth, back - just shy of where might truly get you in trouble.

"Are you alright?" you ask.

Casual as can be, butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. It's fun on occasion, to keep him on his toes. It doesn't help that he's so cute like this, incredulous and aroused despite it.

"What, exactly, are you doing?" Viktor asks under his breath.

"Enjoying my meal." You circle your fork above your plate, lips starting to wobble with the need to laugh, Viktor trying to keep it together despite the flush rapidly overtaking him, right up to the tips of his ears. "You really choose the best places when I can get you out and about, you know?"

You might be referring to the food – or perhaps the fact that this place has low hanging table cloths, perfect for disguising the way your toes slide, delicate and gracefully, up to the beginnings of firmness that's growing between Viktor's legs.

His fist tightens around his fork, drawing in a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed.

Your voice drops low, leaving pretense behind. "What do you think, Viktor?"

Your foot slides up in alignment, arch curved against the stiff line of his erection, the barest amount of pressure applied to get him right where you want him.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

There's a sharp, predatory edge to his gaze as Viktor slowly drags his eyes open, sizing you up in a way that makes your heart skip a beat and your hips want to squirm in anticipation.

"I think," he rasps, leaning closer over the table, "that you should know better than to tease."

That look? That look indicates you'll be sore long before morning comes.

You scan the surrounding tables briefly, all these people still engrossed in their own conversations, their own little pictures of perfect romance.

The grin you can't quite hold back finally breaks out fully, and you lean over the table, closer than is perhaps polite to your fellow diners.

More polite than the way you flex the ball of your foot against the straining head of Viktor's cock beneath the table, though.

"How can I help myself, when you're so pretty like this?"

You hadn't thought it possible for him to get redder.

Viktor sets his jaw and asks for the check.

You slip your shoe back on, smiling primly across the table.

---

The walk home was short, and the distance to the bedroom even shorter.

Viktor's hips are a pleasant weight atop your chest, legs folded politely to tuck his knees under your arms. He’s placed himself at the perfect distance, just out of reach of your needy mouth, knees sinking into the sheets to keep you right where you are.

Quietly, he reaches for his shirt buttons, slowly thumbing them through each button hole, revealing himself for you.

Only it isn't his usual brace tucked beneath.

"What do you think? Is it pretty?" Viktor's voice takes on a smug upturn on your previous descriptor for him, but you can't even think of a response.

The corset is objectively gorgeous, gold threaded embroidery swirling across rich burgundy panels. It's custom – has to be, with how it fits over his spine for proper support, and you're blown away.

It's perfect. Makes him look deified and glowy, sharp lines from head to toe, decadently adorned in the middle.

"Yes," you sigh, hands raising to trace your thumbs over the threadwork, little starbursts scattered down to where corset meets belt. A belt he’s resting his hands on, and you hope, soon to be undone. “When did you –?”

"A few months back. I wouldn't normally go for something so gaudy -"

Gaudy is the last word you'd use to describe the low toned, immaculately embroidered corset panels, rich and dark against his skin in the candle light

" - but Jayce is always saying that I ought to enjoy the fruits of our labor more."

Viktor glances down at you with eyes lidded in satisfaction, lashes almost kissing the tops of his cheeks, a veil on molten amber.

"Are you enjoying it?"

It's barely more than a whisper, low dulcet coaxing just barely able to be heard, for your ears alone to covet even in an empty room. A question that didn’t even need asked.

Of course you’re enjoying it.

“Yes,” you sigh, word gusting out with only half its strength as your eyes rove over him, drawn back again and again to his still fastened belt.

Viktor thumbs at your bottom lip. “Open.”

Your lips drop open eagerly, treating him to the sight of your waiting tongue, plush pink and slick, just waiting for him to tease open with his fingers, or better yet –

And there it is. The distinctive clinking of metal on metal, Viktor’s capable hands threading the leather of his belt free, unzipping.

You keep your eyes politely on his, even through the thrum of anticipation in your ears.

You’re not sure you’ve ever heard a more beautiful sound, already on the brink of squirming for him. Surely you hadn’t teased him this long? A few moments at the end of dinner didn’t deserve this much restraint, did it?

His thumb slips free from where it had been resting on your chin, holding you open – even though you’d have eagerly sat there drooling for him all day, if he’d asked. You really didn’t have any shame left, when it came to him.

You can’t hold eye contact as you hear the slick sound of his thumb rubbing through the pre gathering at the tip of his cock, and Viktor tuts.

“You’ve been rather impatient tonight. Couldn’t even last through dinner.”

You do your best to look contrite, but it’s hard when faced with the pretty, flushed length of his cock, right before your eyes and yet just out of reach.

Your smile is crooked, struggling to not look like the cat that got the cream when it’s so obvious that he’s about to give you exactly what you’ve been goading him for all evening. “Let me make it up to you?”

Viktor follows your meaningful gaze to the engorged head of his cock, humming thoughtfully.

“You need your mouth filled that badly, miláčku?”

You’re perfectly prepared for him to guide himself to your lips, to smear them with the slick beginnings of come, and take his pleasure. To split your mouth wide around his girth, push in deep, remind you what it means to misbehave. To come down your throat, just like you’ve been itching for since you’d set up the dinner reservation.

Instead, Viktor holds up a strawberry.

The tuft of green atop it is unmistakable, even though the majority of the fruit is coating in a rich layer of shiny chocolate.

Viktor smiles down at you, patient and bemused, as he sets the fruit on your tongue, urging you to bite it off.

“Is it good?” he asks, knowing full well you’ll have to chew.

You swallow hastily, peering up at him, uncertain of this game. “You should try one.”

Viktor hums thoughtfully, eyes leaving you – bereft – to peer at the velvety box sitting on the nightstand. Thin fingers pluck another strawberry out, this one with an even darker layer of chocolate, but drizzled in white icing.

You’d like to be drizzled in white, too.

“Viktor,” you whine, fingers creeping over the soft fabric of his slacks towards the hard swell of his cock, pads just barely tickling against the coarse scrub of pubic hair –

“Hands back where I put them. You know better.”

A heavily put-upon sigh, but your hands drop back to the pillows cradling your head, palms up. Stuck waiting.

You let him feed you the strawberry, pouty around the juicy give of sugar-sweet fruit.

Viktor thumbs the droplet of juice that gathers at the corner of your mouth, threatening to spill down your cheek stickily into your hair. "Did you enjoy watching me squirm, drahý?"

You chew your strawberry, petulant, in lieu of answering.

But your jaw forgets to move as Viktor’s hand comes down to cup his cock, giving a slow, loose stroke. Just for show. The slick bead welling up at the tip is more tempting than any decadent fruit, your mouth watering around the acidic mush of strawberry still sitting on your tongue.

His voice is hardly a whisper, low and teasing. “I know I’m certainly enjoying the sight of you squirming now.”

Your breath comes out shaky, swallowing and yet somehow feeling a bit dry in the throat.

Viktor plucks up another strawberry and brings it to his own lips, leaving you fixated on the crisp noise of the fruit splitting between his teeth, calling to mind more lasciviously slick noises.

Juice swells up and drips over the curve of his bottom lip, and his soft tongue peeks out to lap it up, sliding in a way that pulls a little moan from the depths of your lungs.

You flush as Viktor grins down at you.

“All you have to do is ask politely,” he prods.

“Please? Vik?”

He raises a brow and reaches for a strawberry.

“Let me suck your cock, Viktor, stop teasing –”

He’s laughing at your eagerness, and you have to fight not to pout again.

“Let me suck your cock, Viktor, please,” Viktor corrects. Never has a strawberry looked like such a threat as it does now, sitting in his hand like denial made physical.

You swallow heavily, peering at the head of his cock, the confident hand resting at its base. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you look back up at him with the most pleading, needy eyes you can muster. “Please fuck my throat, Viktor?”

It’s Viktor’s turn to feel breathless, shuddering exhale as his eyes go dark. Exactly what you’d hoped to achieve, intensifying the reward like that.

The moment of stillness seems to crawl along your skin, waiting –

And he pops the strawberry into his own mouth, leaning forward to bump the head of his cock to your lips.

You open for him eagerly, salt on sweet, and moan as Viktor pushes deep into exactly where he belongs.

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

no one could’ve worded it better than @valaruakars

[chaoticlicense]

8 Shows to Get to Know Me

Tagged by my darling, dearest, @grumpyoutlaw

Arcane (2021)

Brooklyn 99 (2013)

Daredevil (2015)

Merlin (2008)

Spartacus (2010)

Stargate: Atlantis (2005)

The Witcher (2019)

Trigun Stampede (2023)

No Pressure Tags (sorry if you've already been tagged or have already partaken! also seriously, no pressure to do this if you feel uncomfy <3): @starship-strfck @fantadym @everafterashley @giohexora @lilithapril @roxnpens @apuwu @dicax-asina @artwithvivien @manicmauve @smol-lydia @thehistoriangirl @valaruakars @insult-2-injury @writingmysanity @greytheunknown

[hexite-nightmares]

Tagged by @jackalmeat and @grumpyoutlaw

8 shows to get to know me(the order isn’t a rank)

1-Arcane

2-The Sandman

3-Pushing Daisies

4-Succession

5-Avatar the last air bender

6-Twin Peaks

7-The Sopranos

8-Fleabag

Honorable mentions: adventure time and mad men.

Tagging: @zaunitearchives @beesincognito @apuwu @valaruakars

[bruh-anator3000]

WIP game!!

Im not sure exactly how to do these but my beloved @thehistoriangirl tagged me and I am honored

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

- Date Night

- Bribery

- Girl talk

- Beware the Wolf

- Biting the bullet

- Friend or Foe

- I won't let you die

- (You can't) Outgrow our love

- The Solider, The Poet, and The King

- Un-named Mob au ;^;

- Un-named Httyd au :/

They're all Viktor x Reader fics, and please, ask away! There is no way I have enough people to tag so I'll just tag those who I'm not sure have done this yet :3

No pressure, my lovely doves: @seabellswish @cheaploafs @cadaverism @viktorssweetmilk @valaruakars

[weltraum-vaquero]

any recs for sub male character authors such as urself? I fr feel like they’re so hard to find 😩

You are right about sub (especially guy) character x reader fics being hard to come by, and that might be why I can’t rec any authors that focus solely on sub male characters the way I do.

But! My beloved buddies @heraldeez and @valaruakars have some yummy fics (heraldeez especially has some very good sub Jayce ones, and though I didn’t go crazy for dom Viktor before, valaruakars writes him in such a way that it fundamentally altered my brain chemistry and made me realize I DO like her dom-ish viktor, actually. And ALSO, she has a lovely, lovely sub Jayce oneshot that is very close to my heart).

AND, you can also use my #dicax’s fic recs tag, to look through fics I’ve personally enjoyed. Knock yourself out <3

[astudyincontrasts]

My dash being "astudyincontrasts reblogged this post by valaruakars" and it's a painting of Viktor by velnna only to be followed by like 7 "a studyincontrasts reblogged this post by velnna" is poetic comedy

The poetic comedy of watching me discover an artist via my mutual and then losing my mind over how gorgeous their arcane work is? Glad to entertain I guess lol

[heraldeez]

Kočička

Viktor x Reader | 3.1K | NSFW

Warnings/Tags: modern AU, pet play, nipple play, anal fingering, butt plugs, unprotected sex, a tiny hint of embarrassment kink, use of “pretty kitty”/“pussycat” for the reader, and banging under a Christmas tree :]

It’s time for Viktor to play with his present.

A/N: EVERY DAY, I see “Viktor meow meow this” “Viktor meow meow that”. And I agree.

But tonight? You meow for him. 💪

I had like four Viktor WIPs cooking this month, it has been HECTIC. A special thanks to @valaruakars and @dicax-asina my beloveds for helping me polish this one off. Missed Christmas by a couple days, but... HAPPY BIRTHDAY VIKTOR!

Translations at the end. Hope you enjoy! <3

---

Wrapping paper crinkles by your ear as you toss your head back, cry dying in your mouth as the pinprick bite of teeth on your nipple leaves you breathless.

You have to focus on taking air, staring up at the baubles hanging above you. Warm wool separates your shoulders from the cold wood – the thick handknit blanket that rests atop your couch, richly colored and intricately patterned and warmer than anything else in the house, waiting for the slow afternoons when Viktor takes a rare catnap in the living room.

Viktor had carefully wrapped it around you at the start, attentive to your needs as he spread you out under the Christmas tree, a gift for him, more valuable than any precious metal or gemstone. Whispering soft reverence about how the Christmas lights sparkle in your eyes like they were made to decorate your reflection, how soft and sweet you were beneath him, eyes and lips roaming freely with each saccharine word.

Such sweetness, carried on such sharp teeth.

You suck in a breathy keen as the edge of Viktor's incisor kneads against your already overwrought nipple again, hand shooting out to yank at his hair in ecstasy and plead mercy all at once, before you can remember that you won't be able to really grip it.

After all, you're wearing kitty paws.

Soft gloves cover your hands, squishy pink paw pads sewn to fabric the perfect shade to match your hair. Viktor always did appreciate attention to detail.

And the gloves aren’t the end of it.

One too many late nights spent looking at fetish sites with Viktor, and December rolls around to find you like this, near naked with soft flimsy little cat ears clipped into your hair, a crimson collar threaded through the big fluffy bow wrapped around your neck.

A vision, through and through. His gift. His kitty.

Little kočička.

The bell at your throat chimes merrily every time you twitch under his hands. It’s hard not to squirm.

Viktor plucks at your chest, working your nipples up to a glorious cherry slickness between his fingers and his mouth.

A sight surely to match the dripping, cherry red mess of your cunt.

He hasn’t even touched you yet.

Not there.

You risk a peek downward, catching on the knobs of his wrist rolling slow and indulgent over the front of his slacks. It’s almost hypnotic, the way his forearm flexes rhythmically beneath rolled up sleeves. One hand on you and the other slowly palming himself as he takes his fill.

Your skin feels aflame all over again. You’d been avoiding meeting his gaze for a reason.

There’s a distinctly self-satisfied glimmer in his eyes, smug, at how you can barely keep your cool just from looking at him when you’re like this, lips quirking up against your chest, despite his mouth being full –

It’s difficult, alright?

How are you supposed to not run hot with the way he’s unbuttoned the top of his shirt to give himself a little air, deep satiny red folding loose around sweat-warmed collarbones, and his lips slick from everything he’s been doing to you? The way he’s touching himself, for you?

The way you’re laid bare and desperate, and he’s still wearing his best dress shirt, handsome and sharp for attending dinner with his parents earlier, still the very definition of put together while you’re exposed in full?

At least he’d lost the sweater.

Somehow he had gotten a little warm, as unwrapping gifts had dissolved into passionate kisses and wandering hands.

It’s absolving, that at least you aren’t alone in the way passion sets your blood to boil, tonight.

His hand finally abandons the sore peak of your nipple, thumbing at where you’ve drawn your bottom lip between teeth, pinched in restraint.

"Meow for me, maličký kočičko. Show me how nice I'm making you feel."

And how could you ever even protest, when he speaks to you in such a low register, voice dragged rough with the depth of his desire, hand already returning to your chest like he can’t help but touch you?

Your face floods with heat, but you crook your wrist, cat paw dangling playfully by your face, and your voice cracks as you –

"M-Myan –"

It would be shameful, in any other setting, how… silly.

Not here, in the quiet comfort of your home, Viktor's appreciative hum filling the space between you both, warm eyes judgement free.

He presses a slick kiss to your nipple before he rests his forehead on your sternum, breath coming just a touch rougher. And at the base of your vision, you can see how he has to stop rubbing himself, withdrawing his hand to rest, searing, atop your opposing hip.

It's flattering. No beating around it, you're drunk on just how much he wants you.

"So good for me, darling," he breathes, hands soothing down your sides, "Such a pretty kitty.” His head raises to look at you, checking in with your readiness. “Just one thing missing, no?"

The open box, once wrapped up tight with the ribbon now cradling your neck, holds the end to the ensemble.

Your tail.

It’s a good quality plug. You’d done your research thoroughly, of course. Sturdy metal, not terribly large, but you’d been pleasantly surprised at the heft of it. Weight that would keep it from slipping during what you’re about to put it through. Soft fur, to match your hair, long and well-crafted. A perfect kitty tail.

You nod, a tiny movement, watching him with wide eyes.

Pleased, Viktor smiles.

He retrieves the plug and lubricant nestled within the box, shifting his weight onto his stronger leg as he curls back down next to your hip, braced leg extending out straight alongside your torso to rest.

“Knee alright?” Your fingers rub fondly at the bolts of the brace over his joint.

“Serviceable, today,” Viktor assures, clicking open the bottle cap. “Just taking the weight off for now.”

The subtle spread of his legs grants you a good view of the way he’s tenting his slacks for you, charcoal fabric unmistakably darker at the tip of his length.

Just from watching you.

An indulgent smile sprawls across your face, unbidden, and you pull in a deep breath. You arch your back, spreading your thighs a touch wider to beckon him back in.

Gold roves over the slick mess you’ve made of yourself, Viktor humming, pleased, as he squirts lubricant into his palm, scooching his hips up and casting his leg out to the side so he can lean down to kiss at your chest again.

“Needy,” he breathes, clearly satisfied with the effect he’s having on you.

He reaches down, gently, to rub at your clit softly with the side of one knuckle, cupping the lubricant to keep it warming in his hands. His motion is soft, barely there, nearly frustrating in the way it draws all the sparking wires of your pleasure sensors to attention without truly indulging you.

Gentle. Delicate. Teasing.

If you had a tail, it would be flicking with impatience.

But you don’t – yet.

Breath shudders into your lungs as you consider what Viktor would do, if he knew the thoughts you’re having. How far would he coax you? Would he make you shake your hips, make you play?

It’s as appealing as it is horrifying, to be so gone for him that you’d act so mindless for him. Makes you flush with heat, slightly mortified. But the pressure against your nerves is sending the sweetest arousal wicking down your spine. It’s peculiar, how the embarrassment and need mix into something far stronger.

It’s got you leaking against him.

The lube is warm when Viktor finally stops teasing your sensitive cunt to press lower, and you could melt for his attentiveness.

He paints slickly across your hole, before his palm upturns and the first joint of his middle finger slides sweetly inside of you.

“Enjoying yourself?”

He’s verifying, again. Ensuring that you’re truly ready and on board, before he presses on.

Never have you loved someone this much.

“Feels good,” you sigh, fingers ghosting over his cheek, reassuring.

Viktor’s lips catch on your skin as he kisses at your retreating fingers.

His hand slides deeper.

You settle your head against the wood floor and take it.

Viktor fingers you open on steady hands, blistering your chest with his affection, lips and teeth returning not just to suck you to slickened neediness, but to leave marks, drawing up gentle bruising across the expanse of your ribs and collar.

It feels like the clock stops, leaving you nothing to do but moan for his efforts, lost in the push-pull sensation of his slick hand stretching you wide.

You blink once, twice, as his hand slowly withdraws –

And the cool metal of the plug wrenches a whine from you, as he delicately positions it for you to sink onto.

It’s a bit wider than what he’d given you with his fingers, air catching in your throat as the chill of the plug soothes through your heated flesh, forging deeper. Your hips buck as it pops into place properly, and Viktor coos, adoring, petting over the soft fur with his dry hand.

“That’s it, perfect,” he sighs, reverent. “Turn over for me, kočičko, let me see you.”

You fumble to remember how to move on pleasure-weak limbs, Viktor cleaning off his hands with the cloth he’d set out beforehand, and together you both shift to leave you inclined between your chest, flush to the floor, and your raised hips, knees spread around Viktor’s legs as he sits behind you.

Spread open, for him to admire.

His completed kitty.

You mewl as Viktor slides his hands up the backs of your thighs, brushing aside your tail to part you open for him. Thumbs settle heavily against each side of your cunt, rubbing gently – then dragging, slow and wet like the parting of ripe fruit, to expose your dripping pussy.

Your breath catches, throat working on a whine.

The roughened pad of his thumb presses against the core of your wetness, prodding, just a tease. Not enough, far less satisfying than what’s to come. You wriggle back against him.

His responding chuckle is gasoline on your neediness, and you huff.

“I know, I know – here.”

Gentle hands guide your hips to the floor, your body coming to rest flat beneath him. He uses his hold to resituate, knees clicking, and settles himself flush against you, body pinning yours to the floor and holding your thighs wide to make room for his hips between your legs.

It feels like your pulse is rushing louder than normal, as you strain to hear the distinctive noise of him clinking with his belt, unzipping – and there it is, the blood-hot press of his cock, Viktor nudging the head firmly against your entrance.

The press of it is divine, as he finally pushes past the initial drag of resistance and slides home.

He seems to go on forever.

Logically, you know he can’t even be as deep as he can go, held back at the hips by the curves of your ass, precious inches withheld.

And yet it feels as though the tip of his cock has sunk into the fragile cage of your lungs, pushing out your breath with each bit fed to you.

It’s tighter with the plug. For certain.

After breathless moments, you can feel him come to rest, the soft scratch of his treasure trail sinking down against your tailbone, Viktor murmuring praise into your ear at the feat.

You swallow heavily, every passage in your body feeling tight. “... More, Vik.”

A pause.

Viktor’s right leg shuffles, straightening and evening out his weight a bit. You can feel it flex, tense-release tense-release, against the soft inner flesh of your thigh.

“... Bear with me a moment, zlato.”

Cramps and strain aren’t an uncommon occurrence.

The floor isn’t exactly an ideal place for this. You wouldn’t have suggested it with a perfectly good bed two rooms away, but Viktor had been the one to pounce tonight.

You nod, taking the reprieve to focus on air, capricious lungs fluttering as though they’ve forgotten their purpose. It’s warm, stuffed underneath all of Viktor’s tenderly wrapped limbs, the heat of your entwined bodies seeming to sink beneath your skin.

Just as you get your breath to cooperate, Viktor chases it away again with firm fingers slipping between your hips and the hard floor, burying themselves against your folds and toying with your clit absently.

It's unfair.

How you're close to the precipice, and he's not even moving yet, just murmuring sugar sweet praise into your ears, fingers toying with your clit, uncommitted like he's not trying to push you over, but is damn well succeeding.

You whine in protest, squirming down against the flickering pressure from the pad of his fingertip, and Viktor tuts, turning your chin to drag you into a deep kiss, stuffing his tongue into your mouth to halt your mewing.

It’s somehow more overwhelming, him licking into your mouth, full at literally every angle. Your cunt throbs around him, your ass around the plug, and just – it’s so much.

The defeated whimper that Viktor swallows down from you must taste good, with how he grins into the kiss.

And so, locked together tight, you wait for the pinch in his in leg to subside – his length sitting still inside you, deep enough to brush your cervix in a twinge of pain to wrack a shudder down your spine, pleasure seeping back in stronger in the retreating wake of it.

Stuffed full, completely.

His hips shift out a smidge, testing the movement, rocking gently back into you. The bell at your throat rings as his skin knocks back into yours. Viktor breaks the kiss as you shudder, your very framework short circuiting as the leaking head of his cock seems to wedge itself into every sensitive spot it can.

"Better?" you croak, swallowing harshly – when did your throat get so dry?

"I can move, for now." There's a smugness as he sighs into your nape, grinding you into the floor, as he says, "Though, somehow, I feel quite certain that this won't take long at all."

And he's right.

Even before he rolls your clit between his thumb and forefinger, just the right side of too hard, you’re ready to spill over his fingers and cry – sorry, mew – his praises.

You buck against him, impatient, and he sucks sharp breath through his teeth.

"Gentle, miláčku, or – this may last even shorter than we had anticipated."

You can feel the way he’s tense against you, the way he throbs for the movement. Right there on the precipice with you – not nearly so unaffected by the prolonged teasing as he’d like to let on.

Despite the years, still so affected by you… if you had claws, you'd be sharpening them in the blanket in self satisfaction.

You don't, so you settle for painting Viktor's cheek with needy kisses.

He brushes your fluffy tail to the side, and begins to fuck you in earnest.

His pace is languid, barely pulling out before rocking back in, minor movements of his hips yielding much reward as you gasp for him. Every deep grind shoves his pelvis to your hips, the plane of his lower abdomen shoving the plug firmer inside you. It’s a synchronized push, the way his cock rocking deeper into your body presses everything else deeper as well, full full full on every press.

Your cheek sinks back to the floor, body going weak as his fingers continue to flicker over your clit.

Thick, filling, your head goes blank as you’re finally awarded exactly what you wanted.

A bit dazed, your eyes find a low hanging ornament, the shiny crimson reflection catching in your periphery.

You can see him, in the reflective metal – and he’s not distracted with baubles, like you.

Viktor’s eyes are lidded, the whole of his attention fixed on you, expression achingly fond. His nose brushes against your hair, and he presses a soft kiss to your head – it’s domestic, desperately worshipful, and you’re fumbling for his spare hand that had been steadying your chest, shaky fingers threading through his.

“That’s it, let me take care of you, kočičko,” Viktor sighs into your scalp, squeezing your hand. “So well-behaved, just for me. Good kitty.”

The heat that would have once found its way to your cheeks instead pools low in your hips, mind feeling the peace that comes with being so thoroughly attended to, fuzziness filling in the blanks. You arch your back beneath him, mewling your incoherent agreement.

Viktor noses his way across your cheek, wordlessly coaxing you into a kiss, and that’s what shoves you over the edge.

It seems to burn with a certain warmth, his meticulous caretaking. Everything so carefully designed to get you off, from his fingers deftly circling your clit, slickened liberally from your dripping cunt, to the way he buries himself deep, because he knows just what you like.

The reward to his effort culminates as you seize up around him, sobbing need into his mouth, lips moving uncoordinated, not exactly kissing him through it but unwilling to pull away. Your hips buck in little circles against him, riding out the pleasure, using his cock to encourage every last pulse of pleasure from your trembling cunt.

Viktor curses, rhythm faltering in the sucking clench of your wet heat – “Ah, you’re – Zbožňuju tě, fuck, I – please.” Such sweet words, sentiment you’ve heard a thousand times, murmured hastily against your lips.

Squeezing his hand, you hum, breathless and questioning – whatever he’s pleading for, you’ll give. Your hips rock back to meet where he’s rutting into you, muscles clenching ever tighter as light overstimulation begins to kick in, his hand still coaxing aftershocks against your clit.

But even the barest shifting seems to do the trick, Viktor hissing “yes”, cock throbbing as it begins to pulse inside you, deep and searingly wet. His hips buck erratically, voice tight and crackly as he praises his pretty kitty, his personal pussycat the whole way through.

A rolling wave of exhaustion seems to settle into your muscles almost harder than the orgasm had, both of you going lax, only the soft movement of breathing filling the quiet room.

The cool wood of the floor soothes the flushed hot skin of your bitten-sensitive nipples, smushed into the floor under Viktor’s slight weight as you both regain your senses atop the rumpled blanket, slid askew from all the movement.

Viktor draws a rallying breath, shifting up off of you just enough to let you melt without compression.

Long fingers wrap, steadying, around the sturdy length of your jaw, holding you to the warm span of his chest to help you get some air into your lungs.

The contented noise you let out is barely more than a breath, just the slight tremor vibration of your satisfaction against his fingertips.

Viktor's responding laugh is soft, pleased, achingly tender.

"Look at that, kočičko. I've made you purr."

---

kočička/kočičko - kitty

maličký - little

zlato - gold (endearment)

miláčku - darling

Zbožňuju tě - I adore you

[onewhoturns]

Oooh, tags from @valaruakars so very valid

I have a lot of feelings about the rise of he would not fucking say that attitudes in fandom spaces and the paralysing effect it can have on creators. As a writer i think it’s important to just write what feels true to you and not what you think others will “approve” of. Like even as a reader i have enjoyed a variety of different characterisations that all work because the writer makes them work for a particular story. And a fic that’s written out of character to some will be in character to others. Writing fic is not your job you’re not being paid it’s your hobby please. Make them as close to canon as possible. Make them completely different. Who cares! Have fun! Have so much fun! There is an audience for every kind of fic and every kind of character interpretation i promise

[seaofthesoul]

I was tagged by @shiremaiden and @legoilas in two ask games, thanks so much! 💘🌸

20 songs I’ve been listening to lately

As I’ve been doing a lot of these in the past weeks, thought I’d simply put my yt favourites (from the past ten years or so) on shuffle and see what happens 👀

Bruxa Theme  (from The Witcher 3)

Kodaline - Shed a Tear

Il Volo - Questo Amore

Avenged Sevenfold - Nightmare

Paolo Nutini - Iron Sky

Alec Benjamin ft. Alessia Cara - Let Me Down Slowly

House Targaryen Theme (from Game of Thrones)

The Strokes - You Only Live Once

Thomas Bergersen - Soulseeker

Dancing in the Rain (from The Tudors)

Stand Strong, Stand Together (from Mass Effect)

Tum Ko (from Rockstar)

Sabrina Claudio - Messages From Her

Mystery / Regis Theme (from The Witcher 3)

Thomas Bergersen - Into Darkness

God Particle (from Angels & Demons)

Rhapsody ft. Christopher Lee - The Magic of the Wizard’s Dream

Avril Lavigne - Tell Me It’s Over

KALEO - Vor í Vaglaskógi

Sigrid - Dynamite (Acoustic)

5 things about myself I want my followers to know

I have a huge Tolkien collection 💗 The inventory I did the other day revealed I own 22 CDs/DVDs/cassettes and 64 books in total, and that doesn’t even include the many other items and mementos I have 🙈 

The movies I’ve watched most times at the cinema are AVATAR (about ten times, I think) and Mad Max: Fury Road (five times) 🤓 Obv I also watch the LOTR trilogy every time they do a cinema marathon sdfgsd

If I had more time and energy, I’d spend it all learning languages! I’m more or less fluent in French, English, German, Norwegian, Danish and Swedish and have some (mostly very minimal) knowledge of Quenya, Old English, Na’vi, Sindarin, Irish, Welsh, Spanish, Italian and Russian 🌈 Next on my list are Finnish, Icelandic, Faroese, Old Norse, Arabic and Portuguese 🥰 

After thinking about this much too long and seriously, I finally decided the other day that my Patronus / spirit animal is the raven (thanks @mugglemirror for our nice chat about this 💕)

As a teenager, I had super intense AFI, Avenged Sevenfold and Tokio Hotel phases 😂

Tagging @amantisegreti @technicallysideacc @sunflowrhaz @mugglemirror @le-chardonneret @spellboundzouis @going-there-and-back-again @feanarofinwion @valaruakars @houseofmaedhros and the people who tagged me to do whatever part of this you want 💛✨

[chaoticlicense]

Ask Game

Tagged by @grumpyoutlaw ❤️ (sorry for posting this so late, life got in the way :/)

1. Are you named after anyone?: I don't think so, actually.

2. when was the last time you cried?: A couple of weeks ago, I think! I actually don't fully remember but it was definitely when I was watching something.

3. Do you have kids?: No.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? : Yes.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?: Their eyes and their hair.

6. What’s your eye color?: Blue.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?: Can I have both?

8. Any special talents?: Is it super boastful of me to say my special talent is writing?

9. Where were you born?: Canada.

10. What are your hobbies?: Creative writing, making graphics, and reading.

11. Have you any pets?: A poodle named Lucie.

12. What sport do you play/have played?: I used to do gymnastics when I was...12-16 but that's about it.

13. How tall are you?: 5'10" / 178 cm

14. Favorite subject in school?: Art! I wasn't very good at it but it was my favourite because I had the best teachers and it was always a safe space for creativity.

15. Dream job?: Published author.

Tagging (I am very late to posting this so if you've been tagged or have done this already, or if you just don't want to do this, feel free to ignore <3): @lilithapril @greytheunknown @aerynwrites @cryptid-paint @cheeriecherrymain @dicax-asina @everafterashley @giohexora @juniper-sunny @kikiiswashere @mechformers @smol-lydia @thedreamlessnights @uwuboowoo @valaruakars @vinciwolf @writingmysanity

[basichextechml]

Omg my favorite thing ever- exposing my music tastes! Thanks for tagging me @hwody​ ^-^

A House in Nebraska - Ethel Cain 

Stranger - Made Out Of Babies 

Moonlight Sunrise - Twice

Bocas Sobre una Araña - Los Monaguillosh 

Ursidae - Huldra 

I gotta get my hoes over here

@valaruakars​ @heraldeez @dicax-asina

🎶✨when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to, publish. then, send this ask/tag 10 of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) 🎶✨

Thanks so much for the tag @willowcassette !

Shinunoga E-Wa - Fujii Kaze

Be Sweet - Japanese Breakfast

Why Can’t We Be Friends? - The Academic

Ikkyu-San - Wednesday Campanella

Trip - Ella Mai

Tagging: @arijensineink @toribookworm22 @words-after-midnight @ishipgenfics @little-mouse-gardens @imdefnotvanessa @jamieanovels @writingpotato07 @i-dont-write-as-often-as-id-like @elijahrichardwrites

[dad-dumpster]

comm i did for @valaruakars ★彡 pwease go check out their fics!! they slay!!!!