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#you wrote them beautifully !
forcedhesitation · 9 months
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the turning point in atsv where peter b tries to "reason" with miles and miles tells him to stop calling him a kid, which gets miles hobie's praise. but jessica tells hobie that he isn't helping and hobie only responds with "good" and then miles looks at him with this troubled expression, like he finally understands what hobie was trying to tell him from the get go. miles understands that he can fight for more than what gwen and peter b have accepted as the cost for their place in spider society, miles understands he doesn't need this illusion of power they have to be spiderman. he already IS spiderman. then when miguel ensnares miles in the trap, while everyone else pointlessly tries to reason with miguel (the man, the authority), hobie goes directly to miles and reminds him he has the power to free himself. which results in miles breaking free and dismantling the fragile semblance of order and composure that the spider society and miguel both had. then when miles is trying to go home, it's spiderbyte's choice to defy miguel directly, as peter b and gwen have repeatedly failed to do so because all they do is talk, and stand in solidarity with miles that saves him from miguel's wrath. and when miles is gone and miguel has no one to turn on but HER, that's when gwen finally realises that her place in the spider society never meant anything. that the second that she would have truly questioned miguel and his power, she was always going get the same treatment as miles. she doesn't get to talk anymore, she's given no choice in going after miles or going home. then it's HOBIE who gives her the means to rectify her mistake and to stand by miles' side, as she should have from the very beginning. THAT'S CINEMA BABYYY!!
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vogelmeister · 5 months
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anyways i am feeling kinda brave today so im gonna share a potentially unpopular taylor swift hot take. when i was talking to my friend yesterday about ttpd i realised that i kinda have a similar problem with the anthology as i do with evermore.
like don't get me wrong, both have absolute gems (willow, tolerate it, long story short, gold rush and NBNC from evermore are great and i love the albatross, so high school, the prophecy black dog, manuscript etc) but i think both collections (bc anthology is not an album) suffer because they came out connected to a much superior more cohesive work, and both almost feel like rejects from the body of work that proceeded it.
#actually like i said to my beloved mutual “thanK you aIMee” kinda feels like she woke up one day and went “fuck you kim actually”#which i can kinda relate to in a way bc the amount of times i randomly go “fuck you”#but my mutual said if there were more songs about being screwed over by people that could be a storyline. but theres not. its just there#like its a great song but also i kinda went “we are covering this ground again”#if there were new developments in the relationship i could kinda understand it#like how she wrote innocent and then backtracked that with rep bc things happened#but idk the anthology just feels like scraps she deemed good enough for release but in my opinion needed editing#the stupid ass 1830s lyric highlights this bc i get what shes trying to say but she worded it so badly#that i kinda see why its being clowned on#also imgonnagetyouback... yehahahahah liv did it better. now it feels like a done concept. im shocked she included it#she knew it was coming come on#anyways the anthology while good kinda felt unfinished#she should have given it a few more months and polished it#bc holy hell at least folkmore felt polished#even though evermore is cohesively weaker#my friend who is a folkmore swiftie kinda also feels like this fyi so dont come at me screaming “burn 1989 rep midnights stan!”#burn me idc#and while im at it both are in my bottom three only right above debut#tldr: both collections are tied to another work thats just so much better and cohesive#this is just me saying i cant get into anthology hahaha#and i felt weird bc everyone liked it but when my friend a literal folklore girl said “no im not feeling it” i felt better#bc so many people were saying it was better and those swifties were going 'all of us' and i kinda went... no i prefer standard#i love taylor sm and i love og ttpd its currently no 5 but the anthology has issues and one of them is similar to why i rank evermore lowl#i just went off on a tangent about the issues with the anthology and its songwriting and lack of narrative#i will say so i win you all over i loved the evermore set at eras i thought it was so beautifully done#taylor swift#ttpd: anthology#evermore
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bahoreal · 1 year
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every time i read a fan analysis of the ted lasso final that adds beautiful meaning and depth to his character journey im like damn
i wish thats what they intended to do but i really dont think they put that much thought into it
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Against my better judgement I’ve acquired two new books from Ollie’s: Coriolanus by William Shakespeare and Empire Games by Charles Stross (which I didn’t know was a series when I got it lol whoopsie… I usually don’t read series; but this is classic-style dystopian sci-fi with time travel so it’s a little different).
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coldflasher · 8 months
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thinking about how im literally on like. the 8th draft of my novel, but i've still never actually come up with a full, beginning-to-end readable draft without bits missing or repeated scenes or entire chapters in the wrong order
lol
#why the fuck is this how my brain works#i fucking WISH i was one of those people who like. has all their writing beautifully organized in neat little folders#i mean like. in a way i do. i have most of my fics organized by fandom and ship and whether they're in-universe or AU#and then you open the doc and it's just a fucking horrorshow of scenes. most of them are half-finished. none of them are in order#when i need to find a specific scene i literally just think of a word or phrase i used in that scene and CTRL+F it#if nothing shows up after i've tried two or three combinations then i start searching through my notes app to see if i wrote it on my phone#then if i STILL can't find it i look in my emails in case i wrote it at work on the sly and saved it as an email draft#and then if i still can't find it after that i'll have to conclude that i must've written it in my head and forgotten to write it down#the masterdoc for dndb is a fucking MESS. it's even more confusing than the fic itself#cos im so paranoid about losing drafts that every time i rewrite a scene for the 3928283th time#i copy it into the doc AGAIN. so the current word count is 80k but half of it is just me neurotically redrafting the same 3 sentences#i let my friend start reading the garbage draft of my novel and she was like “im so sorry i can't read this it's fucking incomprehensible”#and then she gently pointed out that i'd used the same joke in 3 consecutive chapters and forgotten about it every time....#anyways i have a few chapters that are taking really nice shape but i just KNOW i'll get to a point where i turn the page and suddenly#there'll be another absolutely unhinged mess of tangled word-vomit for me to wrestle into something coherent...
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chrisbangs · 1 year
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woke up to such a wholesome interaction under a comment i posted on one of marks yt vids recently and i felt so warm like 🫂 man... there are just ppl out there who will not know a single thing about you but still choose to be a neat lil dude... very cool 👍
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gracieheartspedro · 4 months
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About You
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how to help gaza
pairing: colin bridgerton x f!reader, brief benedict bridgerton x reader action
description: finally ready to get off the marriage mart, your family arranges a marriage to a bridgerton. but not the one you have always desired.
word count: 2.4k words
author’s note: hiiii folks. this is part one so more coming soon. I wrote it in an hour after I watched pt1 of season 3. I only edited it a couple times. plus there’s a lack of colin content on this website. so i’m here, filling the void ❤️
You had waited for this night your whole life. The night you would be proposed to. 
Your mother had ensured you wore your finest gown, a soft purple dress with beautiful sparkles and embellishments. She even gifted you a necklace your grandmother had worn the night of her engagement. 
It was a huge moment for everyone involved. But you could not help but feel a pit in your stomach. You wanted to call them nerves, but it was more so you knew you were making a mistake. 
When you arrive at Lady Danbury’s estate, you and your parents step out of a horse-drawn carriage and into a beautifully decorated ball. The candles lined the entrance, and red and white roses encapsulated the entire space. 
You did the typical introductions and curtsies. You thanked Lady Danbury for throwing such a captivating event for your special moment. She smiled and told you that it had to be mesmerizing for such anticipation. You felt light-headed thinking of all the eyes that would be on you tonight. 
You found your way to the ballroom, where ladies and gentlemen alike were already dancing. You find your way around the room, instantly finding a group of ladies you had made acquaintance with before. The four of you chat and they all share that they cannot wait to watch the Bridgerton boy propose to you in front of the masses. 
It makes you sick to your stomach. 
You excuse yourself to find some lemonade on one of the many tables. You would prefer some champagne, but alcohol does not make it right for you. It does not allow any clarity. So, you stand alone, trying to collect your thoughts and not freak out too much before anything happens. 
“There’s my gem.”
His voice is deeper when it’s right in one of your ringlet curls. It also doesn’t help that he’s saying it for your ears only, making the comment even more sensual. 
Colin Bridgerton was terrible at being just your friend. He was always too close to you, always searching you out in a crowd, and constantly waiting around for you at social events. 
He had been doing it for years before he disappeared on a world tour. You knew your time on the marriage mart was over when your mother and father, a Duke and Duchess, pulled aside Violet Bridgerton and begged her to pawn one of her sons off onto you. And while she would have easily convinced Colin, he was in Italy learning about The Pantheon and had stated he had no intentions marrying. 
So, Benedict would have to do.
You turn to face the taller gentleman, ensuring your posture was fixed to that of a Lady. 
“Mister Bridgerton, what do I owe the pleasure?” You falter to formalities, rather than your normal banter with him. You knew people would be watching you like a hawk, as tonight was the night Benedict was going to try to secure a proposal. 
“I have not seen you in a year and suddenly you speaking to me as if I am a stranger,” His voice is confident, but his eyes read the same insecure boy you remember. 
You let out a sly chuckle, “Well, we practically are at this point, are we not? You are the Ton’s most eligible bachelor as soon as you returned from your tour  and I feel like the man gracing me with his presence is not the man I once knew.”
He seems taken aback by your comments, his face dropping a bit. 
“I’ve been hearing whispers amongst the Ton that you’re getting a proposal,” He halts, taking a sip of the lemonade slid between his fingers, “From my brother?”
You hear the jealousy laced in his voice, but you try your best not to call him out on it. You turn around, still shoulder-to-shoulder with the man. “One can only hope, Mister Bridgerton. It would only be my pleasure to join the family.”
“As Benedict’s missus?”
You want to scream at him, but your trained politeness is engrained deep within every fiber of your being. 
“Well, I have you know, that it was arranged by your Mama and my parents. It is simply a way to join our families. You know my Mama and yours have always taken to one another. I did not know you would have such an issue with it.”
Before he can say more, you spot Benedict across the ballroom chatting with Eloise and Francesca. He meets your eyes and gives you a curt nod and smirk. You nod back, knowing that he would approach you once the conversation concludes. You had this whole act down to a science. 
Because that’s what it was for you. An act. A way to make your parents get off your back. It was no love match, it was only practical. Benedict was a gentleman, into the arts, comfortable with moving away from the city. He was everything you needed, just not what you wanted. 
“I leave for a bit of time and suddenly my own brother is courting my best friend,” Colin groans, shifting in his spot. You return your gaze back to him, trying to understand why tonight had to be the night that he fought for you. The term best friend had a bite to it, as well. While you were a lady, you had already shared a kiss with a few boys, including Colin. While you two were underage and not able to make such distinct decisions on marriage, you knew that the feelings you had for him were shared. 
What was so frustrating was that he could never actually confess such feelings. You could see it in his eyes when you glanced his way, but the words never slipped his lips. He only shot flirtations at you and then there was no action as a follow-up. It made your mind race and spin. You started to believe that it was not flirtations at all and it was all just teasing.
“I think you are missing out on the key point in your conjecture, Colin,” You lick your lips, moving only a bit closer to him so no one can hear your words, “You left me. I stayed here and pondered what another season would be like without you. And of course, at the very end of such an event, you decide to be cruel.”
“How am I being cruel, Miss? I am simply stating that you are choosing someone I care about for expedience and not for love.”
“You are being cruel by approaching me and acting like you are even half aware of the circumstances you are speaking of.”
He chuckles, trying not to entertain your comments. “I am well aware that you have always wanted a love match. You know that is not what you are getting with Benedict, Gem.”
Your throat tightens because you know he is right. You have dreamed of a love match since you were a precocious child, enduring all the teasing him and Eloise about it. 
And you knew deep down that the love match you wanted was with him. 
The damn nickname he gave you years ago continues to get a rise. You can feel your face get flushed, the heat rising all the way down your neck and chest. 
“Who said I needed a love match, Mister Bridgerton?!”
You never meant to be loud, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, you realize everyone staring your way. You had seriously messed up. 
Colin did not even look away from your completely shell-shocked expression. He was not focused on the glares and whispers, he only cared that the woman he was in love with was about to marry his brother. He could not let that happen. 
The feeling of embarrassment made every part of your body jittery. You decided that the exit seemed like the best option, so you made your way past everyone and ran to the back garden of the Danbury estate. The flowers that lined the railings made the tears in your vision sparkle like fireworks. 
You try your best to suppress the useless waterworks, but the emotions get the best of you. You felt humiliated that you had to explain your motives to a man who hardly knew you anymore. What does he know?
You find a corner to hide in, making sure your face is hidden away from the exit. When you hear footsteps approach, you pray it’s not a Bridgerton. Sadly, you’re disappointed. 
“What did Colin say to you?”
You remove your cream glove, ensuring no tear touches such an expensive fabric. You needed to collect yourself a bit before turning to face Benedict. So you dab your eyes with your fingertips and spin to face him. He looks concerned, his hand reaching for yours. 
“I am so sorry, Lord Bridgerton. He got the better of me and he still knows how best to irritate me,” your eyes well up again with tears, “I do apologize for not being more put together.”
He squeezes your hand reassuringly, “Do not apologize. I expected him to be a bit tormented by the whole situation.”
You furrow your brows, quizzically. “What ever do you mean?”
“Well, he told my Mama last season that he did not want to marry because you were courting Lord Jacques. That is why he left early for his travels.”
The revelation makes your heart skip a beat, “Why would him marrying have anything to do with me?”
You try to play dumb so maybe you could get more out of the man, but instead of answering you, he just shakes his head. His focus drops, and as soon as you lose fixation on his actions, you notice Colin loitering around the exit. You drop Benedict’s hand and sidestep to get the man in your line of vision. 
“You have never been good at hide and seek, Mister Bridgerton,” You say with spite, “Step into the light.”
His slow meander only makes you more angry. 
“Now, why is my brother alone with my best friend in the garden? Seems like a scandal waiting to happen.” 
Benedict snickers, “Seems like we were never alone, brother. You appear to be around every waiting corner.”
You cross your arms, annoyed with both men and sick of the mortification. You could not help but appreciate Benedict’s snarky nature, it has always thrown Colin off his game. You clear your throat, bringing their eyes to you. 
“I wish to understand why you lied to me about leaving early last season.” 
Colin’s disposition changes as soon as you say it. Last season, Colin left abruptly and wrote you saying it was because of a learning opportunity in Vienna. You took his word for it, but based on what Benedict had just told you, that was a lie. 
“Pardon m-”
“Colin, why did you lie about leaving the season early?”
“Gem, I really do not know where you got this information.”
“Oh, give me a break, Colin. You told me and Anthony that you did not wish to marry unless a girl like her came around. When you realized she was interested in another, you left.” 
Colin races forward, grabbing onto the man to your left. He tugs his vest coat and brings him inches from his own face. The action rattles you, but you remain composed. 
“I told you that in confidence!”
“And you are making her upset with your mind games! If you had just said what your heart’s truth was, you would be the one celebrated tonight. Instead, you stand by and fume over a woman you can no longer have.”
Colin clenches his teeth, “Who said I can no longer?”
Your stomach flips, unsure of how Colin could be so possessive of you. Benedict seems shocked as well because he nudges the man off of him and glances over at you. You realize that this is Colin’s way of confessing his intentions, but you cannot believe that he has to say it on the night of your engagement.
“You are brazen to concur such a thing.”
Colin finally looks at you, taking note of your shaky voice. “So, you are going to marry him?”
The unsettle in your heart has never gone away ever since you were told about the arrangement. You knew that your heart was telling you to run the other way, but you did not want to let down your family. You had taken kindly to Benedict, promenading almost every other day to get to know one another. 
“I have not been asked yet, so I am not quit-”
Colin steps forward taking your hand, “What if I asked you first? Would you accept me? My hand, I mean?”
Benedict steps forward, touching his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Gem, will you marry me?”
A tear slips past your lashes, your heart just about exploding within your chest. Colin’s eyes are desperate, pleading with you.  You are not sure what to say, every possible word escaping you. 
You realize you are panting, the breath leaving your lips labored in panic. You flick your sights over to Benedict, who is stunned but not trying to get Colin to retract his query. You revert your gaze back to Colin’s deep blue eyes.
“Why now?”
He takes a deep breath, “Because I am absolutely useless with my emotions and I have only humiliated myself when I express them. I did not think you would ever consider my hand and had I known that you thought kindly of me I would have told you the first moment you debuted. But I cowered in silence, hoping the emotions I have felt since I was a child would subside. But I have searched every corner of this world and I did not find one lady that made me feel the same emotions I feel when I even just look your way. I hate that it took me so long to realize that you are the only woman I will ever really… love.”
The confession is exactly what you need to change your mind. Because you felt the exact same way. All this time you have been running from the emotions you felt every moment Colin stared in your direction. You thought them immature and vain. But every time you watched him dance with another, the fire within you would burn. You were sick of loving him from far away. 
“The Ton believes me to be promised to Benedict. The embarrassment he will suffer if I accept your proposal could be deafening-”
“Do not worry about me, Miss,” Benedict says, pacing with his hands on his hips, “I could never fully live with myself coming between two lovers. I only waiting for him to realize what we have all been subjected to the last 3 years.”
Colin smirks at him, “And what’s that?”
“The torture of loving someone and not giving in to temptation.”
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kiss-inthekitchen · 6 months
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bonus! i said i wasn't posting anything new til this weekend but i just got up to s5 e2 and spencer reid with that lollipop has made me insane, here's a drabble i just wrote in like 30 mins. barely edited, hot off the presses, hope u like
sucker
~500 words
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Who the hell let this man have a lollipop in the workplace?
You could kill Garcia. 
You’re trying to act normal– trying so hard– but he looks so good. His hair is longer than it's ever been, so beautifully curly at the ends and you just know it’s soft. You need to test the theory but you can’t and it kills you on even a regular day. 
But today is a thousand times worse. There’s something about Spencer since he got shot, he just seems to give less of a shit. It definitely shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. 
It doesn’t help that you’d come in to tell him that you all had to be on the jet in thirty, and then he and Garcia had started asking questions, so Spencer’s been looking up at you from his chair for the past few minutes and something about it is getting to you. 
So yeah, you’re trying not to get so immediately caught for staring at Spencer as he wraps his lips around the lollipop again, but you’re also not about to miss a single second of it. You’re not about to do yourself that disservice. 
You clear your throat as the news broadcast about your unsub ends. “Right. So we’re going to Louisville.” 
Spencer moves to get up, finally. Popping the candy in his mouth, he waves one– large, long-fingered– hand at Garcia and reaches for his crutches. 
What is wrong with you?? You need to get it together before you’re stuck on the jet with pretty boy and all of the most astute people-readers in the Western hemisphere. 
God, you hate your life. If the universe was kind and loving it wouldn’t have had you meet Spencer in the behavioral analysis unit. If the universe was kind and loving, Spencer would be yours already. 
This was some kind of cosmic joke. 
“You good?” he asks. He took the lollipop out of his mouth to speak to you, his eyebrows raised in the most annoyingly attractive way. 
“Yeah?” you scoff, as if he’s the one being weird. 
“Okay. Cause you told me we have to leave and now somehow you can’t keep up with the guy on crutches,” he muses from the doorway, while you haven’t moved an inch. 
This man. If he wasn’t injured you would hurt him. You might just do it anyway. 
You shoot him a sarcastic smile. “I was being polite.” 
“How chivalrous of you,” he says, putting the candy back in his mouth and crutching his way down the hall without a second glance. 
You look at Garcia, and it’s a mistake. You can read her like a book. “Don’t,” you warn, pointing at her, and she presses her lips together but is clearly smiling behind them. “And I am so mad at you for that,” you add, gesturing after him. 
“Wh– he just took one, it’s not like I–” 
“Save it!” you call, already halfway out the room. You hear her laugh behind you, and shake your head. You love that girl, but she was not doing you any favors. 
Fuck it. 
You breeze past Spencer in the hallway. “Keep up, pretty boy.” 
You hear his indignant, playful scoff behind you, and you can’t help the smirk that creeps onto your face.
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fadedin2u · 9 months
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christmas shopping
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MDNI 18+
summary: you go christmas shopping with ellie and things get heated in the victoria’s secret dressing room.
content/tw: afab!reader, fem!reader, nsfw, ass eating(r!receiving), cunnilingus(r!receiving), dom!ellie, sub!reader, sub!ellie for 2 seconds if u squint
notes: i can’t remember who wrote it, but someone wrote a fic about ellie fucking you in a dressing room and i needed to do my own take on it (btw this is barely proofread so sorry for any errors!)
you pick up a pink, lacy bra, checking to see if it's your size.
"els, isn't this so adorable?" you ask your girlfriend, turning around to gauge her reaction to the undergarment.
ellie has both hands full of the bags from previous stores you visited before coming into victoria’s secret. she was a great sport at first, thrilled to go christmas shopping with you, but you can tell that after hours of carrying around your shit and trailing after you like a baby duckling, she’s lost some of that enthusiasm.
“super adorable babe. wanna take it up to the cash register?” ellie suggests, trying desperately not to act as impatient as she feels.
you suddenly feel a little bad for making ellie watch you shop for so long, and you think for a moment before deciding to take pity on her in a much more amusing way than she could anticipate.
you pick up a few more panties and bras and start walking towards the dressing rooms.
“i just need to try these on first, i would hate to buy them and have to return them just because they don’t fit right.”
you look back at ellie, still standing in the place you left her with an exhausted look on her face.
“you coming?” you ask, smirking just a bit.
ellie perks up at that, realizing what you’re offering.
“fucking obviously” ellie says, walking quickly into the dressing room with you. she sets your bags down on the floor of the small dressing room, sitting on the bench.
“is this my reward for being your dutiful servant all day?” ellie asks as you shut the door and start stripping.
you roll your eyes, giggling, “no, your reward will come later tonight. this is just to hold you over.”
ellie’s eyes are locked on you as you remove your bra and panties, slipping on a pair of cheeky panties that match the pink, lacy bra you picked earlier. the underwear fit your body beautifully, which you’re secretly very thankful about.
you put the bra on and turn your back towards ellie, “can you do this up?”
ellie blinks a few times, knocked out of the stupor she was in, staring unabashedly at your ass.
“i’d prefer to be taking more clothes off of you, but sure,” ellie teases, doing up the back of your bra.
you look at yourself in the mirror, happy with the way the bra cups and shapes your breasts. clearly, so is ellie.
“god damn-“ ellie hands snake around your body to squeeze and cup your tits through the bra, her head resting on your shoulder to watch her groping you in the mirror, “i’m buying this shit for you asap. you look fucking criminal-“
you smirk a little to yourself, leaning back against ellie as she grinds her front against your ass, hearing her little grunts in your ear.
ellie starts kissing up your neck, one hand squeezing your tit with the other wrapped in front of your body to keep you in place as she ruts against you.
“please let me eat you out, baby, i’ll be so fucking good for the rest of this shopping trip- i’ll shop for 3 more fucking hours if you let me, just-“
you giggle, cutting her off. “go ahead. i knew what i was doing when i brought you in here.”
that’s all that ellie needs before pushing you up against the dressing room wall, gripping your ass as she kisses down your spine.
she drops to her knees, eye level with your ass as she squeezes the flesh there, kneading it through the underwear you tried on.
ellie can’t resist but press her face into your ass, moaning as she licks the lace fabric covering it.
“jesus fucking christ-“ ellie says before slapping your ass, breathing heavily as she watches the chub recoil and jiggle. you yelp a little, surprised
“i’m gonna fuck you up,” ellie says before pulling your underwear down.
“bend the fuck over, let me see that ass, baby. fucking present yourself to me,” ellie says, her voice slightly raspy as she slaps your ass again.
your cheeks are hot as you obey, arching your back as you bend over, your arms braced against the dressing room wall.
ellie wastes no time before eating it from the back, licking a fat stripe up your pussy.
“you’re fucking unreal-“ she whispers before pressing her face fully into you, groaning as she sticks her tongue down your entrance and bring it back to circle your clit.
you moan softly, your breath already shaky as she eats you out hungrily, nearly frantically. the sounds from ellie’s mouth, her slurping and lapping, is way too loud for these dressing rooms, but you can’t find it within yourself to give a shit right now.
ellie bring a hand around your hips to circle your clit with her middle finger, pulling her face back to admire your ass for a second.
“can i eat your ass, baby?” ellie asks, her voice hoarse and wrecked.
your eyes widen, looking back at ellie, “a-are you sure you want-“
“i fucking want to.” ellie says firmly, her eyes focused on your pussy and asshole.
you laugh a little, “sure, go ahead.”
you’re not laughing for very long before she licks a long strip from your clit to your asshole, circling her tongue around the ring of muscle.
you’re genuinely shocked at how good it feels, your hesitancy quickly melting away back into desperate need, “fuck-“
ellie laughs a little this time, “like that baby?”, continuing to lap you up and barely pressing her tongue past the ring of muscle as she moves the finger on your clit faster.
you’re wrecked, your face pressed into the wall pathetically, your legs shaking.
ellie brings the other hand that was gripping your ass down to your pussy, sliding in two fingers without warning.
“you take me so fucking well, baby, look at that-“ ellie says, watching her fingers pump out of you for a moment before going back to eat your ass, groaning into you as both hands work your pussy.
you moan and stuff your hand in your mouth to muffle it as you your hips jerk a little. ellie slips in a third finger.
“it’s okay, sweetheart- i got you-“ ellie in between laps of her tongue, “cum for me, fucking cum for me-“
you were going to anyways, but it’s great timing. ellie’s mouth and fingers launch you over the edge, pathetic whimpers muffled by your fist as your legs shake harder, heady pleasure rushing through your body.
when you come down, your legs nearly crumple, but she keeps a tight grip on your hips, keeping you up.
you pant heavily, face still smushed against the dressing room wall.
ellie laughs a little to herself, kissing your spine. “fuck… i’m gonna need to buy this fucking lingerie for you, aren’t i?”
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water-to-drink · 2 months
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If Only I Can Turn Back Time
(Pairing): Zhongli x gn!reader x Childe (separate)
(Synopsis): After taking the life of his lover thousands of years ago, Zhongli finds your current incarnation without another lover
(Tags/Warnings): Angst no comfort, blood, pet names (sunshine, darling, & babe), non consensual touching, not beta read (wrote this instead of sleeping), might feel rushed, (if I missed something lmk)
(Word Count): 1.1k
(A/n): It’s sad bitch hours folks
𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍𓂃 𓈒𓏸𑁍
“Morax…? Why?” You gurgled due to your blood coming up to your mouth due to the gaping hole in your stomach
“I’m sorry it had to come to this, but I told you I would do anything for my people.” The god you used to call your lover replied coldly
You grit your teeth to say something to the stone god, but you decide against it instead opting to let tears run down your face as your vision gradually fades
The mystery of what you were originally planning on being your last words still plagues Morax to this day, in his new life stepping down from his role as archon and living the rest of his days as the mortal known as Zhongli. Were your final words going to declarations of love or hatred? He wouldn’t blame you if it was the latter, he would hate himself too
For years he tried to justify it by telling himself that it was the best for his people, but after the years of self reflection he realized it was only to protect himself. Truly thinking that if you died by his hands then it would save him from the heart break Osial’s betrayal caused him
Letting his paranoia get the best of him after Osial’s betrayal and Guizhong’s death he killed the last pillar holding up his life
“Hey! Are you listening?” The familiar voice of a ginger haired man brought Zhongli out of his bout of self-loathing
“Oh, I’m sorry. Please continue.”
“As I was saying my amazing wonderful beautiful finance is coming to Liyue!” Childe smiled and continued. “Their boat is arriving today and I’m so excited, I wish to have them in my arms and listen to talk!”
Zhongli sipped his tea as the young man continued to gust about you and how much he misses you. Reuniting with your lover is beautiful thing, he remembers the times where you would run into his loving embrace. Spinning you in his arms, hearing your melodic laughter, seeing your precious smiling face, feeling the softness of your lips. Sweet memories that will always be close to his heart
“Ah! Their boat is arriving now!” Childe looked at his watch and quickly ran down to the harbor, leaving his tea on the table. From his seat he spotted the distinctive mop of ginger running to the docks as a boat arrives to port
Though he is not a nosey person, Zhongli couldn’t help himself to hone his hearing onto Childe. Who is this person that captured the bloodthirsty man’s heart and made him giddy like a schoolboy? His curiosity was peaked
“Sunshine!”
“Gingersnap!” A familiar voice rings throughout the dragon’s ears
Hesitantly turning his head he sees a sight that he thought he would never see again. There you are, walking and talking like how you used to before the war. Even the smile he vividly remembers is still the same, only that it’s made for someone else
The Harbinger you’re currently hugging
Still in a state of shock Zhongli didn’t register that you and Childe were making your way up the stairs, until the both of you were right in front of him
“As I told you before, this is my fiancé (Y/N).” Childe introduced
Your name was different but still beautifully matched you, a name he wouldn’t dare shorten it to a nickname. A name that every syllable should be worthship whenever it rolls off his tongue
“Zhongli, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Pleased to meet you, Tartaglia has told me a lot about you.”
As the days progressed he got to learn more about this current incarnation of you, there were many things that remained the same yet, some things different. Learning about your new likes felt like he was falling in love with you all over again
“You know Zhongli, it feels like I known you for a long time.” You mention offhandedly
Oh how much he wants to hold your hand and tell you it’s because the two of you were lovers in the past. To beg for forgiveness for what he did to you and promise that he would devote his entire existence to protecting you
Despite priding himself on his patience Zhongli feels it wearing thin with each pasting second. There’s a constant conflict going on inside of him, one side wanting to leave you alone and let you enjoy your new life and the other side wanting you to remember the time where the two of you were lovers. It feels like a kettle that’s about to explode
“Goodbye, Zhongli.” You said, heartbreakingly similar to the way you said your last goodbye to him
Against his better judgement he reaches towards you and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace
“H-hey! Let go of me!” You said as you struggled against his grip
“Please. Please, remember.” He uncharacteristically pleaded as he began to use some Adeptal magic on you to share some of memories with you
Memories of your first time meeting, your conversations that would last til the sun sets, him confessing his feelings to you, your first time being intimate with each other. Every memory that he has involving you being shared, from the first moment to the last
Slowly you stopped struggling against him and he releases you from his grip. You pushed him away and turned to face him, your eyes had a glint of recollection yet confliction to them signaling that your old memories are flooding back into your mind
“Morax…”
“Darling.” Zhongli whispers as he opens his arms and slowly approaches you
Extending your arm out you stop the former archon from coming closer
He wanted to asked what was wrong but the look of betrayal on your face, the same expression you wore the day he used his spear to strike you down, told him everything that he needed to know
You don’t love him like you did before
Rapid footsteps alerted the two of you to the upcoming presence of another. A mop of orange hair pops up before the harbinger makes his way up the stairs and kisses you on the cheek
“Hey babe, is something the matter?” Childe asked, sensing the tension between the two of you
“Oh I was just saying goodbye to Mr. Zhongli.” You stated with a smile to your lover
Heartbroken he watched as the two of you walked down the stairs, your words getting out of ear shot
You turned to glance at your former lover one last time before returning your attention to the young man
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nowoyas · 19 days
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Trying to make sense of the Nanowrimo statement to the best of my abilities and fuck, man. It's hard.
It's hard because it seems to me that, first and foremost, the organization itself has forgotten the fucking point.
Nanowrimo was never about the words themselves. It was never about having fifty thousand marketable words to sell to publishing companies and then to the masses. It was a challenge, and it was hard, and it is hard, and it's supposed to be. The point is that it's hard. It's hard to sit down and carve out time and create a world and create characters and turn these things into a coherent plot with themes and emotional impact and an ending that's satisfying. It's hard to go back and make changes and edit those into something likable, something that feels worth reading. It's hard to find a beautifully-written scene in your document and have to make the decision that it's beautiful but it doesn't work in the broader context. It's fucking hard.
Writing and editing are skills. You build them and you hone them. Writing the way the challenge initially encouraged--don't listen to that voice in your head that's nitpicking every word on the page, put off the criticism for a later date, for now just let go and get your thoughts out--is even a different skill from writing in general. Some people don't particularly care about refining that skill to some end goal or another, and simply want to play. Some people sit down and try to improve and improve and improve because that is meaningful to them. Some are in a weird in-between where they don't really know what they want, and some have always liked the idea of writing and wanted a place to start. The challenge was a good place for this--sit down, put your butt in a chair, open a blank document, and by the end of the month, try to put fifty thousand words in that document.
How does it make you feel to try? Your wrists ache and you don't feel like any of the words were any good, but didn't you learn something about the process? Re-reading it, don't you think it sounds better if you swap these two sentences, if you replace this word, if you take out this comma? Maybe you didn't hit 50k words. Maybe you only wrote 10k. But isn't it cool, that you wrote ten thousand words? Doesn't it feel nice that you did something? We can try again. We can keep getting better, or just throwing ourselves into it for fun or whatever, and we can do it again and again.
I guess I don't completely know where I'm going with this post. If you've followed me or many tumblr users for any amount of time, you've probably already heard a thousand times about how generative AI hurts the environment so many of us have been so desperately trying to save, about how generative AI is again and again used to exploit big authors, little authors, up-and-coming authors, first time authors, people posting on Ao3 as a hobby, people self-publishing e-books on Amazon, traditionally published authors, and everyone in between. You've probably seen the statements from developers of these "tools", things like how being required to obtain permission for everything in the database used to train the language model would destroy the tool entirely. You've seen posts about new AI tools scraping Ao3 so they can make money off someone else's hobby and putting the legality of the site itself at risk. For an organization that used to dedicate itself to making writing more accessible for people and for creating a community of writers, Nanowrimo has spent the past several years systematically cracking that community to bits, and now, it's made an official statement claiming that the exploitation of writers in its community is okay, because otherwise, someone might find it too hard to complete a challenge that's meant to be hard to begin with.
I couldn't thank Nanowrimo enough for what it did for me when I started out. I don't know how to find community in the same way. But you can bet that I've deleted my account, and I'll be finding my own path forward without it. Thanks for the fucking memories, I guess.
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riddlesb1tch · 2 months
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I Love You More Than I Love You
Azriel x reader
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summary: a morning being Azriel's mate
warnings: none!
a/n: I wrote this in like 15 mins so please excuse any errors or poor quality of writing here
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Your head rested on Azriel’s chest, the steady beating of his heart thumping in your ear, his stomach slowly rising and falling as he breathed under your arm, and the morning seemed perfect just like that. The sunlight pouring in through the open blinds spilt beautifully over your mate’s features, accentuating his high cheekbones, chiselled jaw, and the spattering of freckles all over his face. To you, Azriel had never looked more ethereal. Looking at your mate at peace was not a pleasure you got to experience often due to his job, but those stolen moments of vulnerability, where it was just you and him and nothing else mattered, were some of the most precious in your relationship. 
Azriel stirred slightly, turning on his side. You moved your head from his chest to his bicep and continued looking at his face. 
“You’re staring,” he mumbled, eyes still closed while a small smile played on his lips. 
You smiled at his little shadows dancing around the corners mischievously. “I’m admiring,” you whispered, moving a little closer. 
He opened his eyes now, looking at you with sleepiness still in them but regardless, your breath caught in your throat at the beauty of his eyes, so angelic and alluring with the sunlight still coming in from the background, and the playfulness in them. 
“Okay, stalker,” he mumbled jokingly. 
You furrowed your brows in amusement. “Says the guy who stalks for a living?” you replied.
Azriel gasped in mock offence. “It’s called spying, thank you very much.”
You rolled your eyes exaggeratedly. “You call it spying, I call it glorified stalking.”
Azriel only chuckled in response, turning onto his back and rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?” he yawned, stretching his arms above his head. 
“Way too early to be up,” you replied. 
“Then why are you?” he asked, turning back to you now and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Your skin heated where he touched your face, eyes closing briefly at the safety and warmth you felt. 
Your heads rested on the same pillow now, noses almost touching. Azriel wrapped an arm around your waist and tangled his legs with yours. You shrugged in response to his question. “Woke up a couple of hours ago and couldn’t fall back asleep,” you said. 
Azriel hummed in understanding, placing a kiss on your forehead. 
“Well, we still have a couple of hours before we have to be up. You wanna try sleeping till then?” he asked, yawning, his eyes drooping closed already. 
You nodded in response, cuddling into Azriel’s warm body and letting your eyes fall closed as well. His breathing was just starting to even out again when you said, “I love you, Az,” and kissed his chest. “More than anything.” 
He stroked your hair before replying, “I love you more than I love you.” 
Your brows furrowed at what he said, not understanding the meaning behind his words. You decided to ask him later about it and for the moment, let yourself get lost in the realm of dreams again.
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A couple of hours later, you woke up to an empty bed. Downstairs, you could hear clattering in the kitchen and concluded that Azriel had taken to making breakfast this morning. Your heart warmed at how caring and sweet your mate was. 
You got out of bed and made your way downstairs to the kitchen where you saw Azriel with his back turned to you. He was still shirtless, putting the large expanse of his back, the muscles flexing as he worked on display. Even after 10 years of being mated, the sight still made you blush. 
Approaching Azriel, you wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging his body close. 
“Good morning, angel,” you heard him say. 
All you did was hum in response. Kissing the space between his wings, you unwound your arms from around him and moved to sit on the shelf next to where he was cooking. He handed you a mug swirling with some dark liquid. 
“Your coffee, miss,” he said with a smile. 
“Thank you,” you said gratefully. 
Sipping your cup and swinging your legs while you sat on the counter watching Azriel work, a thought struck you. 
“Hey, Az?” you called. 
“Yes?” he replied, turning his attention to you. 
“You said something this morning and I don’t know what you meant,” you said. 
Azriel looked at you questioningly. “What did I say?” 
“You said ‘I love you more than I love you’.” 
Azriel raised his brows for a second, taking in the statement before he turned to you with an adoring gaze. He moved to stand in front of you, hands coming to hold yours. “It means that you’re the one I love most in this world yet somehow…I love you even more than that,” he explained. “That make sense?” he asked. 
You looked into his eyes, feeling your heart soaring, your love for him growing even more if that was even possible. “Perfectly,” you muttered, kissing Azriel deeply until the smell of burning eggs pulled you apart.
Masterlist
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reiderwriter · 7 months
Note
For some reason my comments don't come through on your posts, but I want to first say I absolutely love your writing and I'm so happy your requests are open!! 🥰😭 So I've had this idea of a fluff mixed with spencer angst where reader is maybe interning at Diana's facility (not a dr yet, studying) and becomes close with Diana by reading, chatting, etc and Spencer over hears it from time to time and the dialogue between spencer and reader gets too close for Spencers comfort, but Diana wants her around more. Thank you again for your hard work okay bye!
A/N: I've never written a fic with Diana in it before, so this was a bit of a challenge for me, bit I enjoyed writing it a lot! Hopefully, this is somewhat like what you wanted!! ❤️
Warnings: Spencer is a bit dense (real) and puts his foot in his mouth (metaphorically, of course).
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Diana Reid's son was exactly the way she described him, down to the tiny curls at the base of his neck and the glimmer of intelligence in his eye. 
After four weeks interning at the care facility while working on your medical degree, you'd spent a considerable amount of time with your favorite patient, and her stories about her son were legendary. 
At first, you weren't sure whether to believe the woman when she said her son was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs, and a job in the FBI. She wouldn't be the first schizophrenic patient to muddle up her facts, but she certainly was the sweetest. 
So when you recalled your conversation with the head nurse later that day, she laughed and confirmed every story about Doctor Spencer Reid. Your mouth hung open in shock because surely nobody that incredible could just be out walking the streets. 
Another month of conversations about the man, and you were half in love with him. He wrote his mother letters every day - hand wrote them, even - and she's shown you a few. He'd talked about his friends, his team, his jobs, and how he was saving lives. And when one of the latest ones dropped in the news that he'd be free for a visit soon, you found yourself overflowing with anticipation. 
Of course, you felt like you already knew the man. You knew what his first words were, what his favorite toy was growing up, and even about the exploits of his first date, as pitiful as it was. What you didn't know was if Diana was passing along similar information about you. 
The day Spencer Reid finally showed up, he took your breath away. You were mostly in awe of Diana's ability to describe her son perfectly, though you'd grown fond of her perfectly professional English Lecturer tone of speaking over the last few weeks. She was practically lyrical when talking her son into existence. 
“His hair curls beautifully. He's my little adonis. He keeps it too long though, I'm always telling him he needs to cut it because it hides too much of his face,” she'd told you one day before picking her book up and ignoring you for the next half hour. 
“My Spencer is delightfully tall. He's a little bit spindly like a spider. He's not the most grateful, that's for sure, we used to call him crash because he was always bumping into things. Poetic, right?” 
You knew from the second he walked through the door that this man was him. 
Tall, slightly hunched, clutching his satchel strap in his hand, terrifyingly handsome and making your hand jump into your throat. Definitely him, and definitely a problem. You'd have to check the code of conduct about falling hopelessly for a patient's beautiful son. 
If you had any doubts, this was Spencer in front of you though, when he bumped into a chair just as he was about to reach his mother, it was confirmed. 
“Diana, I believe your Crash is here,” you smiled and giggled, watching her turn quickly to greet her son. 
You, too, gave him a warm smile, but he seemed a little hesitant to return it, instead greeting his mother softly and sitting with her while you retreated slightly to give them some privacy. 
You hovered in the space, as Diana had been talking about introducing the two of you all week, and you didn't want to distress her if she couldn't find you close by. 
But though Spencer was closely attentive and soft with his mother, he took brief pauses to stare almost frustratedly at you. You weren't sure what it was, but something about you was setting Spencer on edge, and that in itself was unsettling you as well. 
“Oh, Spencer, you must meet our Y/N. Y/N, come here, this is my son, Spencer.”
Slightly more apprehensive now, you held out your hand to shake his, “I've heard so much about you  it's nice to finally be seeing you in person, Doctor Reid.” 
He didn't shake your hand, though, but awkwardly waved it off quickly, leaving you to awkwardly replace it by your side. 
“Nice to meet you. Are you a new attendant? I asked all updates about my mother's companions to be confirmed and passed on to me, patient and carers included.” 
His tone was business-like and clipped, and you could see a gentle annoyance settling on his features. 
“I'm sorry, Doctor Reid, I thought Diana would have told you in a letter, or the administration would've passed it on. I'm a medical student on an internship.” You felt like you'd been chastised by an irate parent though he'd at no point raised his voice or indicated in his words any sense of anger at all. His eyes burned across your skin, though, and you felt a flame heat your skin under the weight of his stare. 
“You're mother has told me a lot about you though, she reads me your letters sometimes, between our discussions of Marjorie Kempe.” 
“My letters? Mom, we've talked about this. Those are private.” You looked at the quiet disappointment on Diana's face and felt protective over the woman all of a sudden.
“Please, I'm sorry for overstepping, but your mother is just very proud of you. She talks about you a lot actually, and your job-” 
“With all due respect, Y/N, the last time my mother talked to a new friend about me, he traveled to Virginia and shot one of my friends, so this really is a conversation I'd rather not be having.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach as he turned back to his mother and started talking to her gently again about personal security, effectively dismissing you from the conversation. 
You'd had stupid hopes for Spencer Reid, and that's all they would ever be. 
Reid talked on, and you left him alone with his mother, though she seemed distracted by your departure. 
“Spencer, that wasn't nice. Look at that poor girl. She's close to tears.”
“What? Mom, are you even listening to me?” 
“No, and I likely won't until you go and apologize to Y/N. She's a pretty girl, Spencer, and she was very excited to meet you.” 
“Pretty…. Mom, please.” 
“What, do you disagree? You think I don't know you well enough to know when a girl would suit you well? Or do you think I'm blind to the fact that you were stealing glances at her before she introduced herself.” 
Spencer went quiet at having been caught, and he hated to accept that maybe his mother was right. 
It was true as well that the care facility had informed him of medical interns coming and going in the next few months, and really, she wasn't to blame for his mother being fond of him. 
He was glad, though, that neither of them had noticed the ten minutes he'd spent just outside the large sitting area watching them talk. He'd been obviously taken aback to see someone new so close to his mom and his mom similarly comfortable. He felt even worse for the fact that for a solid minute and a half, he'd stared at the girl with no other thought in his head than the sound of his heart skipping a questioning beat. 
He'd pulled himself out of it eventually, but only when another nurse had come along to ask him if he'd actually be visiting his mother today or just dropping in to check on her. 
And then he'd bumped into that infernal chair when he was so fixated on getting to them, and she'd opened her mouth and called him crash, and his heart had sank. 
He reminded himself it was neither of their faults and inwardly cursed himself for being so unfriendly with someone who'd taken such good care of his mother recently. 
He promised himself that he'd talk with his mom and then go and find the woman, and apologising for being such a brute. 
“Spencer, are you listening to me, or are you busy daydreaming about my nurse?” 
“Mom!” 
“You're plain as day, kiddo, you'll never get anything past me. Now please, leave me be, I'm reading. Come back later if you must, but for now, take this to Y/N for me, please. She left it with me to read this morning, but I'm not in the mood for Medieval Romance right now.” 
It was a blatant lie, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Spencer quietly took his chance to search for you in the halls. 
The head nurse humorously pointed him in the right direction without him asking, much to his annoyance, but he persisted and lightly tapped on your shoulder to greet you. 
“Oh, Doctor Reid, hello again.” You smiled a little smaller this time, still polite, but he watched the way it didn't reach your eyes and felt like a jackass all over again. 
“My mom told me to come return this book to you.” He held out the book, and you quietly took it, folding it into your arms and hugging it tightly against your chest as you both stood there silently after the exchange. 
“I'm sorry, as well. I wasn't exactly very friendly back there, because-” 
“It's okay, Doctor Reid, you really don't have to explain. I overstepped, it's my fault and it won't happen again.”
“Are you kidding? My mom hasn't looked that relaxed in years. Please keep overstepping.” 
Your smile widened slightly at the compliment, and Spencer's tongue kicked into hyper drive immediately at the sight, even as his brain powered off. 
“You're pretty,” he blurted out, stopping only as his brain caught up with his tongue before firing off again. “My mom said you're pretty. I agree as well, though, you have a nice smile, and it's better when you don't force it. Not that I'm telling you how to smile, though. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but my mom made me come over here and talk to you, even though I'm pretty sure that's her book and not one you loaned her.” 
He took a moment to catch his breath as you blinked at him in confusion, heart beating rapidly even as you heard the blood rushing through your ears. 
“If you're free now, would you want to grab a coffee? Unless you have a boyfriend. Or husband. Or girlfriend or wife, I guess, I don't mean to presume. But if you're free, as in time, and free as in, like, relationship wise, I'd like to buy you a coffee to thank you for listening to my mom.” 
He finally stopped, and you stared wondrously at the reddened skin of his cheeks as he held his breath, waiting for your reply. 
“You want to take me out for coffee to thank me?” 
“Yes.” 
“And on a separate note, I'm pretty, and you want to know if I'm in a relationship?” 
“I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me, I'll just see myself out. It was a stupid idea anyway-” 
“No, wait, Spencer! Let me… let me grab my coat. My lunch break is in half an hour, and I'm sure it'll be okay to take it early.” You held his arm for a second, stepping slightly too close for comfort before realising yourself and taking a tiny step back.
He stood and blinked in your direction, as though wondering seriously for a moment what your lunch break had to do with him. 
“Are you going to stand there staring at me, or are we going to go out?” 
“You're serious?” 
“I guess…. I guess I am.”
“And you're… you're single.” 
Your mouth went dry as his skin finally completed its transformation from vampiric to tomato red. You desperately hoped your own embarrassment wasn't equally as readable on your face. 
“Quite single. Medical students don't have that much time to date.”
“Neither do FBI agents.” 
“Perhaps a subject we could talk more about later?” 
“Definitely.” 
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troublesomesnitch · 3 months
Text
Rimming Aemond - Drabble
Aemond x Maid!Reader - Quick smutty drabble
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The way he was bent so beautifully over that table - I couldn't help it, I had to write this little thing.
Contents: eating Aemond's ass, plain and simple. Be warned, this is graphic, and I was hardcore blushing when I wrote it.
Words: 1600
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Tensions are high within the castle as the crown prepares for war. High among its serving staff; high among its guards. High among the royals who walk its gilded halls. And high within the one-eyed prince, for even if he would never admit it, the stresses weigh on him as much as on everyone else. 
He has always been demanding, your prince, but now more so than ever he is difficult. Quick to anger, less forgiving if your work is not to his satisfaction. Rougher when he fucks you in secret, holding you down and snapping his hips hard against yours, using you as little more than a vessel for release and replenishment. 
You do not like it very much, this roughness to his touch, at least not every time. But you dutifully turn up whenever he sends for you - always under a suitable pretense, of course. Sheets need changing, floor needs sweeping. He wants water. He wants wine. Tonight he asked for figs, and they lie beautifully arranged on a golden plate, untasted and untouched as he devours your mouth instead. 
Even his kisses are rougher now, hungry for something your body cannot give him. Battle. Blood. He moans into your mouth when you bite his lip, as eager as always, running his hands over your bottom and down the back of your thighs. About to lift you up with ease, hoist you onto the table and take you right there and then - 
“No,” you exclaim, squirming in his arms and pushing lightly against his chest. “Not tonight.” 
Prince Aemond is an honourable man in some regards. Although clearly dismayed, he releases you with a quiet sigh, stepping back to let you catch your breath and hopefully explain this very sudden change of heart. If you want him in a different way - or not at all. 
“Well?” he demands, tapping his fingers impatiently on the back of a chair. 
“Bend over,” you breathe. 
The prince is not used to taking orders. Not from anyone, and most certainly not from you. His brows draw together in a frown right away, displeasure written all over his face. A maid should never speak to a prince in such a way. Even if he is her lover.
 But when he opens his mouth to scold you, you beat him to it. 
“Go on then. Bend over.” 
You can see that he is sorely tempted to dismiss you for your insolence, or at the very least punish you in some sort of way. But his curiosity wins over, and he does turn around to lay himself across the table, helped along by the push of your hand between his shoulder blades. On his stomach, resting on his elbows. A position most unfit for someone of his standing, especially a man, and you are quick to place yourself behind him, reaching around to slip a hand down his trousers and wrap it around his swollen cock. Make sure that he is nice and hard, too aroused to be prideful. It is a risky endeavour, this thing you have in mind, and you want him wanting and pliant, far enough gone that he will not resist. The way he gets when he is just about to come, and you are quite sure that he would pluck the sapphire straight from his socket and offer it to you, if only to be allowed to finish in your mouth. 
“Does it feel good?” you whisper, low and sultry, hiding a smile against his back when he murmurs yes. 
Really, you are only buying yourself time, gathering up your courage, but he doesn’t know that. He only feels the way you stroke his cock, and the way your other dainty hand slithers in between his legs to massage his balls too, the way he likes it. Cupping and fondling, squeezing almost a little too hard. 
But when he starts to pant, you release him. Which makes him give a dissatisfied groan.
“Wait,” you breathe, fumbling with the closure of his breeches. Swiftly tugging them down, before finally kneeling to the floor so that your face is at level with your intended destination. His smooth, naked arse. 
Slowly and gently, you run your hands up the back of his legs. Giving a squeeze to his thigh, and a soft exhale onto his skin - a warning before you press your whole face against his backside. The prince tenses at once, shifting his upper body to turn towards you, to object, tell you no - but he cuts himself off with a gasp when the tip of your tongue swipes between his buttocks. 
The scent and taste of him is heavy and warm, neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but enticing in its own strange way. You are careful at first, pressing your tongue against the place where his skin starts to pucker, flicking it slowly up and down, never quite touching his opening. Only feeling his tender skin. Soft, and hot, and dusted with little hairs that tickle your mouth, much like the hair on his balls, only even more downy.  The prince grunts out a husky fuck, and he reaches back to grip onto your hair, tangling his fingers in it, not quite sure if he wants to push your head away, or press it closer. 
It is all the encouragement you need. You lap at him eagerly, moving your tongue in circles around the rim of his opening, with little concern for modesty, or propriety, or when he last bathed. It is wonderfully lewd, wonderfully filthy; not only to expose this most intimate part of him, but to press your mouth to it and taste it, hear how he gasps, feel how he tightens with each of your licks. Both the muscles in his shapely thighs, and the one you can feel pulsing under your tongue. 
You imagine you must be the very first woman to ever pleasure him this way. Likely the last as well, for when he marries, his wife will be a noble lady, and you do not believe a lady would ever demean herself with such an act.
With you it is different. You are naught but a common girl, a simple chambermaid. It is an honour and a privilege for you, being allowed to wait upon the prince. Change his bedsheets, scrub ink stains from his floors. Plunge your tongue into his royal arse. 
He groans unabashedly from it now, legs trembling and fingers gripping the carved edges of the table, his knuckles turning white as you clamp your hands onto his buttocks to spread them apart. So you can delve in deeper, press your tongue flat against his hole and lick it, alternating between slow drags and quick, teasing flicks. Delighting in the way it makes him moan. Only very briefly do you draw back to catch your breath, and to have a quick, indecent look at his backside; at his firm, supple buttocks and the area in between, where the skin is sinfully darker, and now glistening with your spit. And at his little puckered hole, which unsurprisingly is as beautiful as every other part of him. Rosy pink in colour, and framed by wispy white hairs. It twitches with anticipation as you lean in again, pressing your tongue against it, this time breaching him with the very tip. Making a violent shudder run through his body. 
"Fuck," he groans, releasing your head, his hand disappearing underneath the table to grasp his own cock and stroke it. 
You have never before felt him tremble like this, never heard such wanton moans from him as just now. He shamelessly thrusts his arse backwards, wanting your tongue deeper, wanting it more, wanting it to touch that tender, throbbing place inside him - you know there is a spot within a man’s behind that gives him pleasure, as you have heard other girls giggle and blush when they spoke of it. From what you understand, it would be too far to reach with one’s tongue, but there are other ways to make use of it, and that is what you aim for instead. 
Slipping your hand in between his legs, you push gently against that soft bit of flesh beneath his balls, holding your hand still, just letting him feel the warm pressure from your fingers. It makes him moan, and you can feel how he is throbbing everywhere; in your hand, in his arse, in the back of his knees. Soon you feel the first little spasms of his rapture too; his legs tensing, his balls pulling tight against his body, heavy and full, desperate for release. 
When he spurts, he collapses flat onto the table, unable to support his own weight, shaking and moaning uncontrollably. His hole tightens rhythmically around your tongue, twitching and contracting with pleasure, and you find yourself wondering if this is how your insides feel around his cock when he fucks you - if so, you can certainly see why he is so eager for it. 
Afterwards, he is quick to wipe his hand clean and pull his trousers back up. You expect him to dismiss you right away, but instead he reaches out to absentmindedly stroke your hair, for once at a loss for words. His face full of disgust at what has just transpired - but also sweaty and blushed from how much he enjoyed it.   
“You should rinse your mouth,” he finally grumbles, sternly and coolly, his upper lip curling over his teeth.
You hold back a little smile when you curtsy. 
“Would that be all, My Prince?”
“Yes,” he says, straightening his back, squaring his shoulders, lifting his chin to its usual haughty position. “That would be all.” 
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Please feel free to come into my asks or DMs with critique of my fics! Constructive is preferred, but not required.
No tags, because the subject matter might not be to everyone's taste...
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mariclerc · 4 months
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Hi
So, i watched the video of the radio between Charles and his new engineer at Imola. Safe to say i got some ideas, and was wondering if you could write something with Charles and engineer!reader? Basically something where reader is Charles’ engineer and he’s developed feelings for her, during a race ( could be Imola, or Monaco as thats this weekend) she talks to him like Bryan does and he realizes he has a praise kink. Could lead to smut if you’re comfortable with that. Thank you in advance.
Thank you for this request, I did my best to develop it as much as possible, I hope you like it!! <3<3
Strategies and praises | cl16 (+18)
Summary: you like to praise your driver, but you have no idea how much good it does him. Warning: fluff and some light smut.
a/n: CHARLES WON IN MONACO OH MY GOD, I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! HE REALLY DID IT, I'M SO SO PROUD OF HIM!!! (not to jinx him I wrote this between Friday and Saturday so you won't have exactly the positions like in the race)
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The Monaco Grand Prix is in full swing, everyone is excited and ecstatic as they want to know how the local driver, Charles, will do. You, as his race engineer, are under a bit of pressure, as well as him, but it's nothing you can't control. For you it is a race of mere strategy and that's it, since many overtakings do not usually occur, and that is why you and Charles spend a lot of time studying the different strategies that may happen in the race.
“If we get one last run with the mediums in quali, we can achieve pole position.” He says and you nod.
“That's right, it's just a matter of the track staying the same throughout qualifying and, in case you already have provisional pole and a red flag or something happens, you're already insured there.” you say as you finish reviewing some telemetry data.
Suddenly he lets out a sigh and runs his hands through his hair, ruffling it a little. You know he is stressed and overwhelmed by this weekend, it's not that he doesn't like it, on the contrary, it's the constant pressure to have a good race at home.
“But... But what if I qualify further back? I don't know, that will change the whole strategy, right?” He asks in a whisper, you nod.
“Ehm... That might change the strategy a little bit, of course, but it's nothing we can't recover with a couple of undercuts or overcuts...” you say to finally close your laptop.
You look at Charles and notice how your words calmed him down a bit, you have been his engineer since he arrived at Ferrari in 2019 and you have been known for giving him some praises every so often in the race. And a couple of times you have been criticized for some questionable decisions in the race, but he was in charge of clearing your name with pride those times, which you are very grateful to him since he always believes in you and you in him.
-
It's already race day and you find yourself with a lot of nerves, the day before Charles had qualified P3 and, although it was not what we expected, there was a certain tension and hope on the pit wall. The roar of the crowd fills Charles helmet as he navigates the tight corners of Monaco. You, his engineer, his voice of reason in the chaos, cut through the static.
“Charles, that was a phenomenal lap! You took the Rascasse beautifully, just keep pushing, we can still make a good climb!” you say on the radio. “Just try to make it clean, okay? You're doing a very good job.”
A small smile tugs at Charles' lips under the helmet... He wasn't just pushing or fighting for the podium anymore, he was pushing to hear your voice, to impress you, to make you feel proud of him.
You watch the telemetry with a focused intensity, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.
“Perfect line through Beau Rivage, Charles. You're a monster machine! Let's catch them boy! I know you can do it!” you said watching his lap, he had made a couple of overcuts.
The compliment hangs heavy in the air between you and Charles, a blush creeps up his neck even though you can't see it. He pushes even harder, the car straining under his command.
Charles crosses the finish line, a hard-fought P3. He lets out a guttural yell of exhilaration, the adrenaline coursing through him. Maybe it's not a home win as he wished, but it's a podium and it's something at least.
“Great job, team! That was incredible. Y/n, you were brilliant on the strategy, thank you so much!” you heard his voice over the radio communication and you smiled.
“It was nothing Charles, now let's celebrate! You deserve it more than anyone!” you also say through the radio. “You did an absolutely amazing drive, Charles. You were phenomenal out there. We should celebrate after the podium ceremony!” you say and you let out a little giggle.
A shiver runs down Charles' spine... It wasn't just the post-race adrenaline, it was the way you said it, the subtle soft praise laced with something more, and that sweet and soft giggle of yours. All your colleagues on the pit wall hug you and congratulate you for such a spectacular strategy, Fred also congratulates you with a loving hug. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Relief and pride wash over you, how proud you are to work with someone like Charles is priceless, he is someone who always strives to achieve his own.
-
At the end of the podium and the interviews, the paddock was practically deserted, you found yourself putting some things in your briefcase when you hear Charles calling you to meet you in his driver's room.
The room is a mess of post-race adrenaline, empty water bottles litter the table, fireproof gloves are tossed on a chair, and Charles himself is sprawled on the sofa, he's still in his race suit, sweat clinging to his toned chest through the fireproofs. He looks exhausted but exhilarated and handsome to your eyes. You knock on the door.
“Come in!” You hear him say and you enter the room, a shy and tired smile adorns your face.
“Hey, you wanted to see me champ?” you asked softly.
Charles beckons you in, a shy smile playing on his lips. He pats the space beside him on the sofa.
“Yeah, come sit, please. There's a few things we need to go over, but...” He trails off, his gaze lingering on you a beat too long. You raise an eyebrow, amusement tugging at your lips.
“But what?”
“You did amazing today, you know that? We pulled off a miracle out there, keeping the position.” he smiled shyly.
You smiled lovingly at him. “We did, didn't we? Thanks for trusting my calls. You were a rocket ship on that track, Charles.”
His gaze lingers on you a beat too long. You brush a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling a warmth spread through you.
“Always. You're the best engineer I've ever had. Not just because of the numbers, but...” his voice became a little low, he hesitate a bit, then leans in, his voice barely a whisper. “Because you believe in me... Even when I don't believe in myself, even when everyone doubts about my abilities or myself in general.”
Your heart skips a beat, you reach out, your fingers softly grazing his cheek. The touch seems to spark something in him, he leans into your hand, his eyes searching yours.
You blushed a little. “Hey, I'll always believe in you, Charles! You're incredible. You know that, right?”
His eyes hold yours, a new intensity there. He cups your face, his thumb brushing across your lips.
“There's something else I want you to know... Something I've realized lately.” he says with a husky voice.
He trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips, you feel a shiver run down your spine, he leans in slowly, and you meet him halfway. The kiss is electric, fueled by unspoken emotions and the adrenaline of the race. His hands explore your back gently, sending shivers down your spine.
“Your voice...” he kiss you again. “on the radio...” he give you another kiss. “it does things to me...” he said between kisses.
A laugh escapes your lips, breathless. “Like what, Charles?” you ask him teasingly.
He kisses your jaw, his voice a low rumble. “Like... it makes me want to drive faster, makes me want to win, to archive even more podiums... Especially when you...” He hesitates, then whispers in your ear. “Especially when you tell me I'm doing good, when you tell me that I can do it.” he said huskily.
A blush creeps up your neck. You realize what he's saying, a heat pooling in your core.
“So... you like a little praise, huh?” you whisper too.
He kisses your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “More than you know, mon ange, especially if it comes from you.”
The air crackles with unspoken desire. You let out a soft gasp as Charles undoes the buttons of your t-shirt, his touch lingering on the fabric. You reach up and cup his face, pulling him close for another kiss. This time, it's deeper, filled with a new urgency. His hands slide down your back, sending a fire down your spine.
“Then tell me, Charles. What do you want to hear?” you said breathlessly.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes blazing. “Tell me you're proud of me, tell me I drove flawlessly. Tell me you knew I could do it... Please.” he says in a whisper, practically begging you.
You run your hand through his hair, a slow smile spreading across your face. “I am so incredibly proud of you, Charles. You were phenomenal out there, you took that car to its limits and never gave up. You're a phenomenal driver, the best on the grid.”
His eyes lock on yours, the praise filling him with a surge of heat that goes beyond the race. He leans in again, his voice a husky whisper.
“More, keep going amour. Tell me you knew I could keep that podium, even when I doubted myself.”
You trace the outline of his jaw with your thumb, your voice dropping to a low purr. “I always knew you could keep that podium, Charles. You have this incredible talent, this fire inside you. You were born to be a champion!”
His breath hitches, and he pulls you close, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His hands explore your body, finding the small of your back, urging you closer.
“Don't stop please. You make me want to push myself even further, make me want to win every single race left, just to hear you say that again.” says with a ragged voice.
The praise fuels your own desire. You pull back slightly, your gaze flickering over his race suit, you smile.
“Then let's celebrate your podium properly, shall we? Show me just how good you are at taking some orders.” you say with a husky voice, and a triumphant grin splits his face.
-
The air hums with a different kind of electricity now. Charles's eyes darken, the praise turning him on far more than he expected. He leans in, his voice a low rumble.
“You don't just believe in my driving, do you baby?”
His hand dips under your shirt, brushing softly against your skin. You gasp, a shiver running through you.
“No, Charles. I believe in you... All of you. Your talent, your strength, your incredible heart. You're the most determined, passionate person I know! And seeing you out there, pushing yourself, it does something to me too...”
His touch ignites a fire within you, mirroring the one he feels. You trace a line down his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his damp race suit.
“What does it do, bellissima?” he says with a husky voice.
You lean in close, your lips brushing his ear. “It makes me want to celebrate with you in a very different way.” you whispered in his ear.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. A slow smile spreads across his face, a mix of satisfaction and desire.
“Tell me then, how do you want to celebrate?” he asks.
You run your hand down his arm, sending a spark through both of you. “Let me show you how proud I am of the man you are, not just the driver. How much I admire your strength, your focus, everything that makes you so incredible.”
His breath hitches, and he pulls you close again. This kiss is different, slower, filled with a deeper meaning. His touch explores your body, finding the places that make you shiver, places no one had ever discovered before.
“Then show me, bellissima. Show me everything you've been holding back.” he said with a rough voice.
You pull back slightly, your eyes locked on his. “But first, tell me one more thing. Did you ever think your engineer might be a little turned on by seeing you dominate the track?” you say shyly.
His laugh is a low rumble, filled with pure, unadulterated desire.
“Not until now, but believe me, gorgeous, the feeling is most definitely mutual.”
He finally pulls your shirt up all the way, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. As he slowly undresses you, his eyes never leave yours, a mixture of gratitude and raw desire burning bright. The celebration takes a turn neither of you expected, fueled by the adrenaline of the race, the praise that goes beyond the track, and the deep connection that has been simmering beneath the surface all along.
His eyes scanned your body at a slow place, he was drinking you in just by looking. His lips met yours in a gentle touch and your back met the couch as he hovered over you. Looking into his eyes you kissed him again, biting his lip which elicited a groan from him and a smile from you.
“Oh god amore, are you sure you want this?” He asked. “We can’t go back after you say yes.” he added in a low voice that send shivers down your spine.
“Yes, I’m sure Charles.” you replied bringing his lips down to yours. Detaching his lips from yours he kissed down your body, your skin crawls when you feel his warm lips on your body, slowly kissing every curve and dip that adorns your silhouette, leaving a burning path on your skin, you let out a sigh. “God, you're so good to me Cha...” You whisper between a light sigh, your words made him let out a light growl, he felt his body react to your praise.
“Oh mon amour, je te ferai te sentir si bien... I will make myself worthy of your praise...” He says in a low and sensual voice, the mixture of French and English makes your head go crazy. (Oh my love, I'll make you feel so good...)
His lips continue their journey down your chest, taking the time to kiss your breasts gently, as if they were the most precious thing in the world, then he went down to your abdomen where he left loose kisses in the area, making you release one or another soft sigh. He continued down until he reached your core, he smiled at the sight of you completely naked, he softly kissed the inside of your thighs and your heart started beating super fast.
He started to leave sloppy kisses until he reached your folds, he began to leave sloppy kisses and licks on your wet folds, you raised your hips a little to give him easy access to that area, and he began to devour you slowly, he was taking his time to taste you. Your soft moans didn't take long, he slowly sucked on your clit, making you let out a loud moan that probably rang throughout the deserted paddock, but that's the least of it now.
“Keep doing that Charlie...” you say with heavy breathing and that gave him the impetus to continue savoring you with such passion, you hold on to his soft, silky hair. “God, you're such a... You're such a good boy.” you moan slightly.
Your words lit the fire in him a little bit more and he continued tasting you completely in his mouth, you were like a blessing in his life, like something he had wanted to try for a long time. You felt your walls tighten and a strong wave of pleasure washed over you, you felt like you were going to faint right there.
“Cha... Charlie... I'm... I'm close.” you whispered as you whimpered in pleasure, he stopped his ministrations on your core and looked up at you, god he looked so damn hot, his cheeks flushed, his face sweaty from the strenuous work he was doing down there.
He smiled and took off his boxers, revealing his erect cock, he brought his lips to yours and kissed you softly and sweetly, it was as if he didn't want to let this moment between you go. “If... If you don't feel comfortable or something, just tell me and I'll stop instantly, okay darling?” He said in a hushed whisper looking deeply at your eyes.
You looked and him and smiled shyly. “Charlie, I... I want this the same way you want it, okay? I want you to continue.” you whispered and he nodded. “Just do it, okay honey?”
He aligned himself with your entrance and gently entered you, giving you time to adapt to his big size, your breathing became erratic, he began to move slowly and a little loosely at the same time. He wanted to satisfy you, to please you, make you feel like you are the one who have the power in this precise moment... His hands ran over your body, just as they did at the beginning, until they reached your hips and he placed them there, his thumbs made circles in that area, he began to thrust into you with a little more rhythm. He began to breathe heavily, his hot breath coming into contact with your neck and that gave you chills down your spine, his movements were meticulously perfect, he took the moment to appreciate you and enjoy this.
You felt your walls tightening around him, making the two of you let out moans at the same time, to you, he looked like a Greek god at that moment, sweat taking over his toned torso, his darkened and dilated pupils watching you as if you were a goddess or some kind of miraculous apparition in his life.
“Mhm, bébé, I'm... I'm gonna cum.” he whispered against your neck, his agitated and husky voice a delight to your ears. “God, you feel so good around me chérie.” He murmured as he kissed the skin of your neck, making you sigh again and again.
You moaned as you felt the pleasure wash over you. “Such a good boy my precious Charlie.” you said with a husky voice. “I'm close too, handsome.” you whimpered and you closed your eyes.
The climax reached you two making you tremble with pleasure, your legs trembled and you felt how your breathing stopped being erratic. He rested his forehead against yours and kissed every little part of your face, while you just smiled, the love you feel for this man is incredible, something that goes beyond a simple discussion of strategies or friendly companionship.
When you finally felt that everything in you was completely normal, you spoke. “That... That was, amazing charlie.” you whispered softly, giving him a kiss on his cheek, he smiled. “You made me feel good... I haven't felt like this in a long time.” there was no lie in your statement, it had been a long time since the last time someone had made you feel as good as Charles had.
He smiled and blushed. “It was nothing sunshine, everything for you and only you.” he kissed your cheek. “I think you deserve good things more than anyone else.” he whispered too.
After a few seconds, silence was present in the room, but it was a fairly comfortable one, your hands were intertwined with his and your thumb caressed the back of his hand, you smiled shyly at the sight, it was something that looked so cute and innocent.
He smiled again and looked at you with great affection in his eyes. “I love you, darling... Thank you for this!” He whispered sweetly and kissed your temple.
You smiled tenderly. “I love you too charlie.” you whispered too. “Don't you think we should take even a quick shower?” You say and let out a shy giggle.
He smiles and raises his eyebrows, blushing. “Oh... Of course love!”
You just smile at him again and you kiss his cheek. “And then you take me to my hotel?”
He denied and picked you up in his arms to walk to the small bathroom in his driver room, you let out a soft gasp. “Oh, no my love... We will go to my house!” He said.
You raised your eyebrows and chuckled. “But... And my things? Everything is in the hotel...” You started to say but he interrupted you, leaving several small kisses on your lips.
“Don't worry about it honey, we'll look for that before we go to my house.” he smiled. “Just worry about being pretty and smart, my honey.” you giggled at his words.
“You forgot to mention bossy.” he laughed and blushed.
“Oh sure, a little bossy, but that's how I like you.” he whispered on your lips and kissed you again.
You just smiled while you went into the shower, you felt very happy because you never thought that Charles had something for you and that at the end of the day it was something that you also wanted at some point. You admired him as a driver, that was for sure, but as a person it was a totally inexplicable thing. Today showed you that, apart from being good at taking orders, he was excellent pleasing you and showing his true emotions, you can't wait to see where this new journey might take you both.
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deegeemin · 9 months
Text
❄️✨❄️REMINDER THAT IDW SONIC WINTER JAM IS OUT!!! ❄️✨❄️
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I'd love to talk about some neato things I got to draw in the comic! Spoiler warning for some contents below! If you haven't read anything yet, come back after reading the comic!
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Let's start off with the cover thumbnails! I was more inclined to do A since it wouldn't spoil the big surprise Orbot and Cubot had in store! Otherwise I probably would've gone with B or D! It has that bombastic party sort of feel that I think would've been super fitting!
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Here, Eggman is temporarily staying at one of his many bases throughout the world after the collapse of his Eggperial city! This base is inspired by Industria from Future Boy Conan and a bit of Eggmanland!
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He also sure loves his chicken and fries!
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A little beachside balcony in Green hill! I felt like we generally don't get structures there as much so I thought it'd be a nice addition!
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The design on the floor is the stage from the JP Sonic X intro! It gets covered up by snow after but still neat to include!
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Look at this magnificent cast of characters! I wanted to use the poses that each pair had when they were first seen together! I'd considered giving Big his winning animation pose from SA1 but alas no space haha!
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Cubot's taped on eye brow gag was one I suggested and it's a reference to the same gag from FLCL!
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Lil sonic team logo Iasmin asked for! Sonic sure knows to appreciate himself! Good on him.
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And here's a sonic 3 wreath and the SA2 lock on reticle from the mechs!
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Amy and cream's spread of delicious looking food beautifully rendered by the coloring god Reggie! I wanted to include all their items from the Official Sonic the Hedgehog Cookbook! So if you want to make them yourself, YOU CAN! (except for uhh the experiment on another panel. you guys can figure out what's in that yourselves haha)
Also made sure to list all the pages you can find the recipes!
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This is one of my fav gags that Iasmin wrote in!! Can you all guess what this is meant to vaguely resemble?
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Quick round of character refs from Eggman's screen going in order from left to right! [Conductor's wife and Conductor, Barry and Gadget, Early Conductor design, Early Barry design (his outside eye markings are white tho), My uh Sonicsona lol]
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Mecha Sonic mark 3? Yep Iasmin wanted him to be there and so there he shall be!! Hopefully we get to see him again!
I remember seeing the story Iasmin made and it really felt like it could be something you'd see in a sonic anime episode if it were made nowadays. I drew the comic with some influence from Sonic X because of that. I think the most telling detail fans might notice is the constant 3 spines for Sonic.
but YEAH another absolutely wonderful comic I got to work on! See ya'll on another issue!
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