#I've finally indulged myself and had too much fun doing it

[astrophysicist-guitar-god]

Oh my god your tags about roger and james spader playing brothers in an 80s movie.. Gold!! 😆 Apart from Roger being a terrible actor this totally could have worked 😍

>>>Apart from Roger being a terrible actor this totally could have worked 😍

@scorpiogemini I'm HOWLING. Can you imagine how fabulously awful he'd have been? It would have been glorious. Hmmm. Let's see.

WHERE THE RADIALS SQUEAL, starring Roger Taylor and James Spader as brothers Roger and James Meddows-Todd. Released by "Movies that Never Existed but Totally Should Have" Productions (TM). [Roger's picture here, Spader's picture here.]

Roger Meddows-Todd is a charismatic, brooding star of the racing circuit, a beloved bad boy who wins races as often and easily as he breaks hearts. James Meddows-Todd is his equally charismatic, brooding younger brother, an up-and-coming racing star in his own right, as well known for his sarcastic wit as his growing talent on the track.

Roger was 19 and James 12 when their father, a racing champion himself, died in a fiery crash during the Monaco Grand Prix. Their mother, inconsolable, flung herself off the cliffs after a disastrous turn at the Monte Carlo gaming tables on the emotionally charged first anniversary of her husband's death.

Roger became his brother's guardian when their parents died, and raised him as they traveled the world.

Queen cameos:

Brian, Roger's friend since they were boys themselves, initially travels with the brothers as James' court-mandated tutor. James is highly entertained by Brian and Roger's frequent arguments. Brian is two years older than Roger, and James quietly notes how their relationship mirrors Roger and James' own big and little brother dynamic. A close friend of both brothers, Brian remains with the Meddows-Todds long after his tutor duties have ended. While on their travels, he increases his knowledge of the stars and the heavens.

John is the founder and owner of Deacon Luxury Motors, and his cars are as beautiful and beautifully engineered as they are fast. He's the major sponsor of Peregrine Racing, the brothers' racing team. Known for his financial savvy, John also acts as the brothers' trusted but unofficial financial advisor.

Freddie is owner of the famously decadent Mercury Speedway and Casino Entertainment Complex in Montreux, Switzerland, which is sometimes called "the world's most beautiful race course." He's been trying to lure the brothers to set up home base at the Complex since their parents died.

Crystal appears as the Peregrine Racing crew chief, the roadies as the pit crew.

I had way too much fun with this!

[formulapierre]

Oklahoma Smokeshow | Logan Sargeant

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader , OC x Reader

Prompt: Where you and Logan both had the dream of getting out of your small town and he was the only one that made it.

Warnings: I know Logan isn't southern but I couldn't help myself...

Word Count: 5.8k

Song: Oklahoma Smokeshow - Zach Bryan

There's so much whiskey in his Coke it'll make her nose bend But she swears that his love is a damn God send She's known God since she was a child

After being away for so long, Logan had just rolled back into town a few hours ago. He was still settling in when the familiar sound of his old best friend, Colton, echoed through his door. Colton, ever the persistent one, was begging him to join him for a night out on the town. Despite his tiredness, Logan agreed, knowing that if he didn’t, Colton would pester him incessantly for days.

The local bar, a place teeming with old faces and fond memories, was their chosen destination. Logan made his way there a few minutes earlier than planned, the anticipation of a lively night stirring in him. He ordered his usual drink, then took a seat, soaking in the familiar yet distant ambiance of the bar.

Not too long after, a couple of girls made their entrance, their laughter cutting through the murmur of the crowd. Close on their heels was Colton, readjusting his jeans button with a triumphant smirk on his face. Upon joining Logan, Colton ordered a round of drinks for the girls, giving them a casual nod of acknowledgement.

"Do I want to know?" Logan asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity at Colton’s antics.

"They were a lot of fun…” Colton replied, his voice laced with amusement. He wore a smug grin as he indulged in his whiskey and coke. As the night wore on, the bar started buzzing with more patrons. The work-weary crowd was eager to kick back and relax, especially because it was a Friday night. 

"There she is!" Colton suddenly exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the door. Prompted by his exclamation, Logan turned to look, and a familiar face had him stifling a smile. It was you. "I've missed you, baby," Colton falsely confessed, his arms pulling you into a warm embrace and his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. This unexpected sight left Logan momentarily stunned.

"Oh my god! Logan!" You gasped, your eyes lighting up as they finally spotted him. "You're back!" You gushed excitedly, pulling him into a heartfelt hug. Logan had been away for years, and he hadn't seen you since the day he left, the day he broke your heart. He seemed different now - a little taller, broader at the shoulders, and his voice had a rougher edge to it.

"I've missed you so much, darling," he confessed, his voice soft yet sincere. His accent had changed slightly, the old twang of 'darlin'' replaced with a more polished 'darling'.

"Hey, hey…get your hands off my girl," Colton joked, breaking the moment as he hands you a drink.

"When did that happen?" Logan asked, his surprise evident. He would have never guessed that you'd end up with Colton, given his notorious history and recent display of desire with other women.

"Oh…we kinda just fell into bed together one night and it went from there," you explained, laughing it off as Colton's hand found its way to your hip. "But as it turns out, it all worked out pretty well, I think. Don't you agree, my love?"

"I do…you're all I could ever want," Colton replied, the smug smile returning to his face as he kissed you, reaffirming his earlier statement.

She used to play in the yard and she would dream of one day 'Til the world came around and took her dreaming away Told her how to dress and act and smile

“You know…” You began, stepping out of the bustling room, finally finding a quiet moment to pull Logan aside. “They always said you wouldn’t make it…’that boys got a head full of cotton’…” The words brought back old memories, both good and bad, but You said them with a smile. “But just look at you now…” You added, voice thick with layered emotions - pride for His achievements, admiration for his strength, and a hint of unfulfilled longing. Longing for the possibility of having made it out like He did, escaping the confines of your small town life.

“If I’d done as I was told, I wouldn’t have achieved anything,” He retorted, his gaze steady on yours, a shared understanding passing between you, Both remembering the desperation, the yearning for more, the urge to break free that you'd both felt.

“I’m so incredibly proud of you, Lo’,” You confessed, your voice barely a whisper as you wrapped your arms around his broad, strong shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace. His arms moved instinctively around your waist, pulling you closer, and in that moment, a floodgate of memories was opened, washing over you like a tidal wave.

I'm gonna miss you so much," You confessed, tears streaming down your face like a river. You clung to him, arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace, cherishing the last moments before He inevitably had to leave.

"I know," Logan replied, his voice thick with emotion. His hand gently brushed over your hair, a comforting gesture that you had come to love. "And I'm gonna miss you even more. Just remember if anyone asks...”

"You went to basic training…" You repeated, the words echoing in your mind. He had been drilling this into you for weeks, reminding you time and again. Ever since Logan's dad had crushed his dreams of going to Italy to continue his racing career, every waking moment had been consumed by his relentless pursuit of that dream. He had been working tirelessly, juggling two jobs just to scrape together enough money for a one-way plane ticket.

Despite his efforts, he fell short by a few hundred dollars. So, you gave him the money that you’d been saving up. It was a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. At least one of you was going to make it out of this small town and achieve your dreams.

"I love you so much, darlin'," he said, his voice just a whisper in the quiet night. He slowly pulled away from your embrace, his hands lingering on your cheeks before he leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I love you more, Lo'," You replied, voice barely more than a whisper, shaking with the weight of your impending separation. He let go of you and then took a step back, creating a physical distance that seemed to echo the emotional one that was about to come.

He walked towards his car then, his silhouette illuminated by the dim glow of the streetlights. You had offered to accompany him to the airport, but he reassured you that it would only make things harder, more painful.

As he drove away, the tears kept falling. With your hand covering your mouth, You retreated back into the house, not wanting anyone to hear the sobs that wracked your body.

He looked at you, a sincere gratitude etched on his face. "I wouldn't have made it without you, darling," he confessed, his voice carrying a tone of deep admiration. "Without your help, I never would have gotten on that flight."

You met his gaze, your eyes softening. "But you did, and that's what matters. I would have done anything to help you, Lo’," you reassured him, your voice firm but gentle. "Lending you a couple hundred bucks was the very least I could do."

He paused for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours. "I owe you my career... my success," he admitted, every word echoing the weight of his gratitude. "If you ever need anything, I will always be here for you," he promised, the sincerity of his words reflected in the depths of his eyes.

Just as the moment began to solidify, a loud voice cut through the tenderness. "Come on, baby! We're getting out of here!" Colton shouted from the entrance to the bar, his words shattering the intimate atmosphere like a stone through glass.

You turned to him, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "I'll be there in a moment," you replied, your voice carrying a hint of reluctance. You turned back to Logan, your gaze lingering on his for a brief second before you pulled away, the promise of a quiet conversation lost in the noise of the bar as you followed your boyfriend back inside.

She's an Oklahoma Smokeshow He's an asshole from back home

"Wow...you look absolutely stunning tonight, Darlin'," Logan said, his voice laced with admiration. His eyes swept over your figure as you approached him, extending his hand to you. He caught your hand in his and spun you around, allowing him a full view of your outfit. The sounds of your infectious laughter filled the quiet room.

"Thank you, baby," you replied, your face lit up with a broad, beaming smile. You felt a warm happiness bubble up within you. His compliment, simple as it was, had a profound effect on you.

"Ready to go?" he asked, his gaze locking onto yours. You were set to meet up with some friends that night at one of their farms. It was going to be a casual gathering with a bonfire, a perfect setting for the summer night. You had picked out a beautiful dress for the occasion, one covered in a soft floral pattern that you knew Logan adored. It was a perfect blend of comfort and style, ideal for the night's activities.

"Definitely," you responded, excitement lacing your tone as you anticipated the fun-filled night ahead.

As you walked towards the car, you looked up at the clear night sky. The stars were sparkling brightly, and a sense of peace washed over you. Tonight was going to be a good night.

Logan opened the car door for you, a chivalrous act that never failed to make you smile. You slid into the seat, the worn leather cool against your skin. The drive to the farm was filled with soft music and comfortable silence, broken by your shared laughter and occasional conversation. The town lights slowly faded in the rearview mirror as you moved further into the countryside, the darkness illuminated only by the bright stars above and the car's headlights.

Once you arrived at the farm, the sound of laughter and soft chatter reached your ears. The bonfire was already crackling, casting dancing shadows on the faces of your friends who had gathered around. You could see the silhouette of horses in the nearby field, their peaceful grazing adding to the tranquil atmosphere.

Logan squeezed your hand reassuringly as you made your way to the group, the warmth of the fire drawing you in. You were greeted with smiles and hugs, making you feel instantly at home. 

"Finally, you made it! We were starting to get a little concerned about y’all," exclaimed one of your friends, her smile broad and welcoming as she handed you each a chilled drink.

"I apologise," you admitted, a sheepish grin on your face as you raised your hands in a playful surrender. "I completely lost track of time. I forgot we had decided to leave at 6."

"Well, you should’ve just come by yourself then, Logan," retorted Colton in a teasing tone, a smirk playing on his lips. "Everyone knows girls always take an eternity to get ready...and it’s not even like it’s always worth the wait," he added, his laughter echoing in the room.

"There's no way I'm going anywhere without my girl," Logan stated, his voice filled with warmth and affection. With a soft smile playing on his lips, he reached out, pulling you closer to him. His strong arms enveloped you in a tender embrace, radiating comfort and security, asserting his unwavering commitment to keeping you by his side no matter what.

You nestled into his embrace, your heart fluttering at his words. The air filled with the light banter and laughter of your friends, but all you could focus on was the steady beat of Logan's heart against your own. His presence was a calming familiarity in the midst of the busy party. You felt a sense of serenity wash over you as you leaned into him, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm in your ear. His fingers traced small circles on your back, further easing your nerves. Looking up at him, you found Logan's gaze already on you, a tender smile on his lips. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering a quiet "I love you" that made your heart flutter again. In that moment, surrounded by the noise and laughter of your friends, you knew there was no place you'd rather be than here.

"Could you two possibly get a room? It's honestly nauseating," Colton shouts from a few feet away, his voice filled with feigned disgust. He dramatically clutches his stomach and sticks out his tongue as though he's about to be physically sick. His exaggeration brings a wave of laughter from the others in the room, effectively breaking the intimate moment between you and Logan. “God, This is why I hate parties with girls…,”

She'll never make it out alive That small town bar scene Where small vices kill your big dreams

Logan cast a glance in your direction, his brows creased in a question. "What happened?" He asked, the confusion evident in his voice. You turned to look at him, your expression mirroring his confusion. "While I was away, what happened? You used to be so desperate to get outta this place," he elaborated, his words triggering a scoff from you.

"Getting out was never in the cards for me, Logan. We both knew that," you responded, your voice brimming with a resigned acceptance. "While the world turned in your favour, for me, it seemed to stand still. Grandma fell ill, so I had to put my plans on hold and take care of her. Mom was already stretched thin, trying to keep the rest of the family going. After Grandma passed away, it just didn't feel right to pack my bags and leave, no matter how much I wanted it. There were countless nights I found myself staring at your number on my phone, my finger hovering over the call button, ready to tell you that I was booking a flight."

His curiosity piqued, Logan asked, "So why didn't you?" His face was once again etched with confusion.

A laugh escaped your lips as you replied, "I fell into bed with Colton." You paused for a moment, reminiscing. "As I said, things eventually fell into place with him. My parents took a shine to him, and his parents seemed to love me. We began entertaining dreams of moving in together, of finding a little place we could call our own. Mom is already eagerly talking about grandchildren," you continued, your voice tinged with a mix of amusement and resignation.

Logan looked at you, his face a picture of surprise. "But you never wanted any of that," he reminded you, his words echoing your past sentiments.

A sigh escaped your lips as you nodded in agreement. "I didn't, and to be honest, part of me still doesn't. But Colton, he understands that. He isn't pressuring me into anything. We're moving at a pace that I'm comfortable with, something that I'm extremely grateful for," you explained, your tone filled with sincerity.

Logan absorbed your words, his expression sombre. "I guess things changed while I was away," he concluded, his voice carrying a note of resignation.

You nodded and responded softly, "Yes, they did." You understood the underlying meaning of Logan's words. But you also knew that you couldn't give him the reassurance he so desperately sought.

He'd take you home but he's too drunk to drive

You were standing outside the bar, calling Logan on your phone. It was close to midnight, and Colton had left, intending to walk home despite his intoxicated state. You had assured him that you'd call a friend to pick you up, conveniently leaving out the detail that the friend would be Logan.

"Hey...I know it's late but-," you began, but were interrupted as soon as he answered the phone.

"Where are you?" He cut in.

"At Maria's...Colton was too drunk to drive so he's walking home," you explained, sighing. This wasn't the first time you found yourself in this situation.

"I'm on my way," He replied hurriedly. You could hear him moving around over the phone.

"Thank you, Lo'," you said, relieved. As promised you saw his truck pull in a little while later and he climbed out to come and help you in.

"You know, I've been drinking soda all night, I'm perfectly alright," you declare, asserting your independence as he offers a supportive hand to help you up from the cold, hard curb. Despite your protests, he gently assists you, lifting you up to your feet with an unexpected tenderness. He then graciously opens the truck door for you.

"Feel like talking about it?" He tentatively inquires, his voice rich with genuine concern. He leans over to fasten your seatbelt, a simple act that sends a wave of his musky cologne wafting into your nostrils, momentarily distracting you from your turmoil.

"It's Colton…I don't know what more you want me to say?" you respond, your voice laced with a hint of bitterness. Your words hang in the air as he walks around the large, imposing truck and gets into the driver's seat, his silhouette barely visible against the dim glow of the dashboard.

"You...you deserve so much more than him..." he murmurs, almost too softly for you to catch his words. The engine purrs to life, breaking the silence, and he smoothly eases out of the desolate parking lot, leaving behind the scene of your heartbreak.

"Logan, that's your best friend we're talking about," you say, slightly taken aback by his unexpected candour, your voice echoing in the confines of the truck.

"Best friend or not, I can't stand by and watch you get hurt," Logan replies, the raw honesty in his voice making you catch your breath. "You deserve someone who treats you with respect and love, not someone who plays with your feelings." He adds, his gaze focused on the road, but his words aimed straight at your heart.

"Wait, what are you trying to say, Logan?" you ask, a hint of confusion lacing your voice. "He just had too much to drink tonight… it’s not really a big deal, Lo’."

Logan pauses, as if carefully choosing his next words. "It's not just about tonight," he begins, his voice serious. "Remember the night I arrived in town and we all decided to hit the bar? I got there a bit early and saw him... he came in with a few girls and um…wasn’t very discreet about what He had been doing… That was before you arrived. It's not just about him getting drunk, it's about his respect for you."

A silence fills the truck, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine. Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, processing Logan's words.

"And... and you didn’t think to tell me this before?" you ask, hurt flashing in your eyes. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, the sting of betrayal gnawing at you.

Logan sighs, running a hand through his hair. "You told me you loved him and I didn’t want to upset you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I thought...maybe it was just a one time thing. But seeing him tonight, seeing how he treated you...it’s clear to me now that it probably wasn’t."

His words hang in the air, a sad truth that neither of you can ignore. The rest of the drive is quiet, each of you lost in your own thoughts. The familiarity of the town lights passing by is a stark contrast to the newfound tension between you. It's clear that things may never be the same again.

“He’s not you Logan,”

I've been here, I've been up all night Thinkin' 'bout a life with you and I

"Look, there's Daddy!" you exclaimed, your voice brimming with joy. Your three-year-old daughter, Daisy, had been waiting for this moment for days. Her constant chatter about her father's impending return had filled the house with anticipation. You had always known, even before you’d gotten married and decided to start a family, that having him away for at least 25 weeks a year wouldn't be easy. It was a sacrifice that came with his job, a reality that you both had accepted.

"There's my sweet girl!" Logan's voice echoed as he climbed out of his truck, his face breaking into a wide grin. His boots crunched the gravel as he walked towards the porch, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the family he had been away from. Upon seeing her Daddy, Daisy looked up at you, her eyes wide with anticipation. With a supportive nod from you, she broke free from your hold, her little legs carrying her as fast as they could towards Logan. His arms instantly enveloped her, lifting her up into a warm embrace. Daisy had always been a daddy’s girl, their bond was undeniable. Seeing them together, their laughter filling the air, made your heart swell with happiness. He turned towards you, his eyes sparkling with affection, "-and my other sweet girl, how are you doing, darling?" He asked, wrapping his free arm around you and pulling you in for a kiss.

"I'm good," you replied. "This little lady right here hasn’t stopped talking about you all week," you said, your fingers gently tickling Daisy's chest, sparking a fit of giggles from her.

"Oh yeah? Is that so?" He asked, his voice full of amusement. Daisy responded by burying her face deeper into his chest, her giggles muffled against his shirt. The sight had you both laughing. "Well, I’m home now so you don’t need to worry," he reassured her, his words causing a wide grin to break out across her face.

"Mommy let me stay up to watch you on the TV. You were going super fast, Daddy!" She spoke excitedly, her eyes shining with admiration. The race had started just before her bedtime. She had insisted on staying up, convinced that her daddy would end up with a shiny trophy if she watched. As usual, she had been spot-on; Logan had indeed finished second.

"I was, and it was all for you, baby girl," he responded, his voice filled with pride. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a Pirelli cap. The silver embroidered ‘2nd’ gleamed in the sunlight as he placed it on her head.

One you'll never know 'Cause you're a small town smokeshow

"Absolutely not, Logan. The answer is no!" his mother declared with a firmness that was rarely seen, effectively putting an end to the months-long discussion. Logan had been tirelessly pleading for a plane ticket to Italy as a gift for his upcoming 16th birthday.

"We should never have let your imagination run wild with this racing car driver fantasy of yours," his father chimed in, shaking his head in disapproval while reminiscing over the countless hours Logan had spent on the karting track.

"But I'm actually good at it. I even got a letter from a professional race team in Italy. They wanna sign me. They sent a scout to the final race last season," Logan retorted, waving the official-looking letter in his hand.

"Logan, you're only 16. We can't just let you travel halfway across the world alone to meet some stranger who sent you a letter!" his mother exclaimed, concern evident in her voice.

"Regardless, I've enrolled you in the Marines. Your training is set to begin in April and that's the end of it. Your mother and I do not wish to hear another word about this. Is that understood?" his father sternly said, clearly drawing the line.

"Yes, sir," Logan replied, his teeth clenched tight in frustration as he walked away. He was resolute in his determination to make it to Italy, regardless of his parents' approval or disapproval.

-----

You know, Pumpkin, when your Momma and I were just about your age, we were already thinking about our future together," her father reminisced as they sat comfortably on the porch, their gazes following the playful antics of her younger siblings.

"I know Daddy, you remind me all the time," She responded, her voice filled with an affectionate smile and a soft laugh that echoed in the warm evening.

"I just believe it's time for you to start considering your own future, Pumpkin. Not too long from now, you'll be settling down, in a lovely house like this one, surrounded by a family of your own," he advised, his words a familiar tune she had heard play numerous times before.

"But what if that's not the life I want?" she ventured to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What? Of course it is…," he returned, his tone one of disbelief, clearly assuming she was joking.

"Oh, I was merely teasing, Daddy," she quickly reassured him, her smile wavering slightly. "What about Logan, though? We've been together almost a year now,"

"That boy isn't what you need...he's got a head full of cotton," her father declared, shaking his head in disapproval.

"He's going to make something of himself, Daddy, I just know it. I've seen him race," she countered, her voice hardening in defence.

"I don't think so, pumpkin...and you deserve someone better. You need a boy who can provide stability and security for you and your future family," he stated, presenting his viewpoint as an unequivocal fact.

Well, I've been here, I've been up all night Thinkin' 'bout a life with you and I

As Logan lay sprawled in his bed, the warm, humid summer air kept him wide awake. His thoughts, chaotic and relentless, sprinted through his mind at an overwhelming speed. Restless, he climbed out of bed, his bare feet hitting the cool floor. He pushed the balcony doors wide open, allowing the faint scent of summer air to waft in. He sat down, the cold metal of the chair a sharp contrast against his skin, and looked out over the vast expanse of dry fields that stretched out behind the house. In the quiet solitude of the night, he found himself indulging in a dangerous pastime - dreaming about what his life might have looked like if you were still a part of it.

"Logan, you've got 5 minutes till you need to be in the car," his team principal, James, called out, his voice echoing as the mechanics bustled around him. Logan merely nodded in acknowledgement, his mind elsewhere as he pulled up the zipper of his sleek, fitted race suit.

"You're gonna do amazing, baby," you said to him, your voice filled with unwavering confidence. His cap sat atop your head, a stark contrast to your soft features. You stood at the back of his garage, cradling his helmet in your arms, the design adorning it being one you had created for him.

"I can only do it with your support, Darling," he replied, his voice muffled slightly as he pushed his earplugs in and pulled his balaclava on. You then lifted his helmet, the protective gear feeling heavy in your hands, and pulled it down over his head. You let him adjust it, making sure it sat snugly and securely. Once he was comfortable, you flipped his visor up, revealing his striking blue eyes. They twinkled with a mix of excitement and nerves, a sight that made your heart flutter. You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his helmet where his lips would be, and saw a genuine smile reach his eyes.

With a last glance at you, he climbed into the race car, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. As he prepared for the race, he felt the familiar rush of adrenaline. He knew he would give it his all, not just for the win, but for you.

As the engines roared to life around him, Logan's heart pounded in sync with their rhythm. His focus narrowed to the track in front of him, everything else fading into the background. The air was thick with tension as everyone waited for the signal to start.

The moment the flag dropped, Logan hit the throttle, the car speeding forward with a force that pressed him back into his seat. He navigated the twists and turns of the track with precision, his every move calculated and deliberate. Amid the roaring engines and the screeching tires, he found a strange sense of peace.

The race was a blur of speed and adrenaline, but through it all, Logan's mind kept drifting back to you. He imagined your proud smile as he crossed the finish line, the way your eyes would light up. It was that image that propelled him forward, pushing him to take risks and make daring moves.

As he took the final turn and sped towards the finish line, he felt a surge of triumph. He had done it. He had won. But as he slowed down and removed his helmet, his thoughts were not on his victory. They were on you. The thought of you cheering on from his garage, he cleared parc ferme as quickly as he could, heading straight for where his team stood.

As he clambered out of his car and locked eyes with you over the heads of his team, his victory felt all the more sweet. He was surrounded by cheers and congratulations, but all he cared about was the proud smile on your face. It was your unwavering support that drove him, your faith in him that pushed him to be better.

Without breaking his gaze from yours, Logan weaved through the people, shaking hands and clapping backs, but his destination was clear. As he reached the barrier, he pulled off his gloves and reached out for your hand. Pulling you into his sweaty, fire-proof clad body, he whispered in your ear, "This is for you Darlin’." His southern accent slipping back out.

You laughed and pulled away, only to be pulled back in for a deep, passionate kiss. His lips were salty from sweat, but you didn't care. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his blue eyes filled with affection and gratitude. "Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

And as the crowd continued to cheer and the cameras flashed around them, capturing their intimate moment for the world to see.

Logan hadn’t even noticed the precise moment when he slipped from the conscious world into the realm of dreams, his dream was so incredibly sweet and comforting that it didn’t matter to him whether he was asleep or awake. So, when he slowly opened his eyes, coming back to reality, and noticed the soft rays of the sun timidly peeking through the dense canopy of the trees, he couldn't help but give a low, amused chuckle to himself.

One you'll never know 'Cause you're a small town smokeshow

"What do you mean you want to leave?" She asks, her voice echoing through the dining room.

"I don't want to stay here forever, Momma. There's a much bigger world outside our town," You responded, my voice steady despite the weight of the words. The room fell silent, with everyone at the long, mahogany table watching your exchange with wide, surprised eyes.

"But that doesn't matter. You'll stay here and marry a nice boy from a good family..." she starts, her voice trailing off when she's interrupted.

"Your Momma's right, Pumpkin. Your family is here, leaving ain’t an option," he interjects from the head of the table. His voice, usually so soothing, now sounds harsh and authoritative.

"But Daddy!" You protest. He is usually the one who indulges your dreams and fantasies, but this time it feels different, colder somehow.

"That's the end of it. You don't see anyone else wanting to leave, do you? Be grateful for what you have," she declares, her tone final and her gaze sweeping over your siblings, hoping to discourage them from getting any similar ideas.

"But Logan left. Why can't I?" You argue, determined not to let the discussion end here. Your will is not so easily broken.

"Do you see how he lives, Pumpkin? Alone in Europe, travelling every other week. It's no life for a young lady like you," he retorts, his stern look signalling the end of the discussion. You rise from the table, tossing your napkin onto the untouched plate before you grab your keys, and head for your car, the sound of your boots clicking against the wooden floor echoing through the now silent room.

Go on and put on that dress that all the bad boys like I know your daddy ain't home so ride with me tonight

"I just can't do it anymore, Logan. I can't bear the weight of the constant judgement or the suffocating expectation to be someone I'm not!" You exclaim in desperation, shutting the door of the car with a loud ‘thud’. The sound echoes in the quiet street as You make your way towards his house, heart pounding in your chest. He stands a short distance away from where He’d been sitting when you’d first arrived, His silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light.

"And what is it that you want?" He asks, his voice calm and steady, enveloping you like a warm blanket on a cold night.

"I...I want to escape from all of this...I want you to take me away with you," You finally manage to say, a soft, hopeful smile spreading across your lips as He approaches. The soft rustling of leaves under his feet is the only sound in the quiet night as his pace quickens, descending the steps of the porch in a hurry. He pulls you into his arms with a swift motion, enveloping you in a warm embrace, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, reassuring kiss.

"Then let's get out of here," Logan’s voice a whisper against your lips..

I hope you enjoyed my first Logan fic...I have to admit I have a bit of a soft spot for him so there may be more to come in the future - E x

[arvandus]

Daily Drabble - The Mortality of Aging (Asmo x GN!Reader)

CW: hurt/comfort; argument with resolution

Asmodeus has always been your biggest cheerleader, your biggest supporter, the one who pampers you daily with self-care routines, and reassures you about how beautiful you are, regardless of how you feel about your body. He will do your nails without asking, take on spa days to celebrate his latest modeling gig, and worship every inch of you when he has you in his bed.

Which makes it all the more confusing as to why he suddenly started acting so different recently. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes anymore, his words about self care became more of an insistence rather than a fun activity rooted in self-love. The more he pressed, the more you withdrew, and the more you withdrew, the more upset he got.

You couldn't understand what had triggered this change in behavior from him. Was his sin of lust and vanity growing in strength? Was he finding it harder and harder to maintain his attraction to you? It didn't take long for old doubts and insecurities to creep back in, weeds taking root in a garden that had recently been left untended.

It came to a head, as all things do when the pressure becomes too much. An evening following a tiring day where all you wanted was to rest, to snuggle against Asmodeus's side and fall asleep the gentle touches of his fingers against your skin and his soft lips pressing tender good night kisses across your face. It was all you wanted, all you needed in this moment, but Asmodeus was oblivious to it - which was so unlike him.

"Come on darling, let's at least wash your face..."

"I already washed my face."

"But the first time you didn't use the right soap! I bought you that new one, it's gentler on your skin. Don't you remember?"

Actually, you didn't. You couldn't remember half of the skin care things he wanted you to use, and he always seemed to come home with more the next day.

"Look, it's not a big deal, I'll start using it tomorrow. I'm just really tired..."

"Nonsense, it'll be fast. The night time is the most important time for skin care. Come on, I'll do it for you."

"Asmo, I don't want to!"

But he was already getting up, trying to pull you up to join him.

"Come on, sweetie, it'll only take a minute!"

That was a lie... Asmo's skin care routines were more like thirty minutes, and you both knew it, and you were out of patience let alone minutes.

Anger finally bubbled enough to get past your lips and you yanked your hand out of his grasp.

"I said no! Jesus, Asmo! What is going on with you??"

Asmo froze for a moment, then his eyes welled with hurt tears.

"I just want to take care of you! Why won't you let me take care of you??"

"This isn't taking care of me! Lately you've been pushing your skin care stuff on me, trying to control my diet, telling me when I should go to sleep and wake up and exercise... this isn't taking care, of someone Asmo! This is controlling someone!"

"I'm not trying to control you! I just want you to take better care of yourself!"

"I take care of myself just fine. I don't need you micromanaging me. I've been feeling less like your partner lately, and more like a doll that you want to play with. I'm not a fucking toy, Asmo."

His hands were up in defense, pale palms open towards you like white flags of peace. "Of course you're not! Sweetie, I never said you were. But I know that sometimes... well, you can slack off a little bit--"

Oh now you were seeing red. Your hands balled into fists, and now you were sitting up on the bed on your knees, ready to run for the door.

But not after giving him a few choice words.

"Slack off? Slack off?? Are you fucking kidding me? Asmodeus, I work my fucking ass off, and you know it. Do you want to know why I'm too tired to do your stupid 25 step skin care routine? Because I worked, all fucking day, wrangling your brothers, studying for exams, indulging the Prince of the Devildom when he wanted to talk, help Barbatos run some errands, help Lucifer with paperwork..." You pressed your hands to your forehead, frustrated hot tears welling in your eyes. "But yeah, I guess I'm a fucking failure because I didn't wash my face right, or use the right cream. I'm sorry, I'm not perfect, Asmo. I'm sorry I'm not just like you. And I'm so fucking sorry if I'm an embarrassment to be around because I'm not pretty enough for you."

The tears finally slipped, running burning tracks down your cheeks. But despite your desire to leave, to run out of his door to leave him standing there dumbfounded, you couldn't. Not until you heard his response. Your eyes challenged him, daring him to push you that last little bit, knowing that if he did so, it might ruin more than just your evening together.

Asmo fell silent and his breaths went shallow, as if his chest had been hollowed out by the cutting edge of your angry rant.

"Is... is that what you think? That I don't love you anymore?"

You choked on your own air, his soft voicing cutting you just as much as your loud voice had cut him. "No, that's not what I meant--"

"Isn't it though?" he asked, brows furrowed.

His hand reached out to you, guided by the urge to touch you, but he hesitated. Then he balled it into a fist and his arm fell limply to his side. His eyes looked down at the floor and stayed there.

"I... I know what I am," he said quietly. "I know that I'm vain, and self-centered, and obsessed with myself... I never really seen it as a bad thing. Why would it bad to love yourself, to take care of yourself? Our bodies are the one thing we are allowed to have complete control over. So why not treat it like the shrine that it is? Treat it with respect, with love, and others will treat you that way too."

"Do you think that's what's happening?" you asked. "That I'm not loving myself enough?"

Asmodeus lifted his eyes to you, his unshed tears still trapped in his thick lashes. He studied you for a long moment, his amber gaze drinking you in, and you knew in that moment that he still loved you. Achingly, completely, and utterly loved you.

"Maybe..." he replied, so quietly, as if uncertain about his answer, as if it wasn't something he'd considered before a moment ago. "All I know is that you're changing. You're changing, and it terrifies me. And you don't even seem to notice or seem to care..."

"Changing?" your forehead wrinkled, your eyebrows pulling together in confusion. "Changing how?"

Asmo stepped towards you, closing the distance until you could feel the warmth of his body in the sliver of space between you. His eyes roamed over your face, meticulous and slow. His fingers came up and lightly traced along the corners of your eyes, then down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. Your breath caught in your chest, trapped by longing.

"Here...and here..." he said quietly. "Little lines that weren't there before. They're small now, but.... they'll grow, get bigger, deeper..." He slowly withdrew his hand.

Your hand came up and touched your own face, and finally you understood.

"These? They're just age lines, Asmo... every human gets them eventually..."

He gave a small, empty laugh, and his trapped tears finally fell, shining crystals stuck to the flawless skin of his cheeks.

"I know," he replied. "I know. But it means that eventually, I'm going to lose you. And I can't lose you. I can't."

His head dipped forward and rested against your shoulder, the soft locks of his hair pressed against your cheek.

The burning ember of anger finally went out beneath your veins, cooled by the sad tears that now began to fill your vision.

"Asmo..." you whispered. Your left hand came up to cup the back of his neck, while your right hand came up to run your fingers through his hair. Then, you gently lifted his head until he could look at you. "Look at me. That's not going to happen for a long long time."

"Long for you, darlin'. I'm an angle turned demon, remember? Time is different for me. Another sixty to eighty years is not nearly enough time with you."

His hands cupped your face as he stared at you, and you watched as the warm affection in his eyes darkened into sorrow.

"You're the first thing I've loved as much as myself. Maybe... maybe even more than myself. It hurts... like my heart is living outside of my body, fragile and defenseless..."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I wouldn't say defenseless..."

Asmo gave a small amused scoff, like sunlight peaking out from behind dark, heavy clouds. But then it was gone again, hidden away by the shadow of his sadness. "You're defenseless against time."

Your own smile faded, and your hands quietly covered his as you put your forehead to his. "I know."

A heavy silence fell like fog around the both of you. Asmo's eyes were relaxed and downcast in thought as you breathed each other's air and basked in the warmth of your tentative embrace.

A heavy question began to eat away at you, and you knew you had to ask it before it devoured all of your hope entirely.

"Asmo... do you regret it?"

Asmo's eyes looked up to meet yours, the colors of his irises nearly iridescent to the point of distraction.

"Hm?" he replied. "Regret what?"

You swallowed the fear that chained your tongue and tilted your head down. "Do you regret loving me?"

Asmo's thumbs stroked your cheeks and he lifted your face back up to look at him, nose to nose.

"Never. Never ever. And don't you dare think I'll ever stop loving you, either."

Tears slipped past the barrier of your lashes to catch on his thumbs. "Even..." you voice broke, and you swallowed. "Even when I'm old and wrinkled and ugly?"

Asmo looked crestfallen, his eyes shining again with unshed tears. "You'll never be ugly to me."

You gave a wry laugh. "Don't lie to me Asmo, it's mean."

Asmo's smile faltered and his jaw clenched before his grip around your face tightened. Not enough to hurt, never to hurt... but enough to get you out of your own head, and make you focus your full attention on him so you could see every drop of love, every bit of honesty.

"I'm not lying to you. You're beautiful now, and you'll be beautiful then too. These" - his thumbs stroked the faint hint of crows feet kissing your eyes - "aren't ugly to me."

"But you hate them, you were trying to erase them--"

"Because they scare me, doll."

A stubborn silence between the two of you as you stared each other down, you with your doubt, and Asmodeus with his persistence. Finally, he sighed and pulled you against him in a hug.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you and made you feel like you aren't enough. I'll learn to love them, I promise. I just might need some time to get used to them."

Your arms tightened around him and you inhaled the scent of his cologne. "I love you," you muffled into his shirt.

His hold on you tightened, his lips brushing your ear. "I love you more."

[mustainegf]

anything with cliff and reader getting high together and being silly

THIS IS LATE TO BE POSTED CUZ I TOTALLY FORGOT I HAD IT DONE :P

𝟐 𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐒 ¹⁹⁸⁵

The sun was sinking below the San Francisco skyline. Normally, the Metallica house hummed with energy, but tonight it was just Cliff and me, in the garage. I mean, the band had been working on new material forever, now it was our turn. Cliff rolled a joint, and we were off and running.

This garage was stuffed with instruments and amps everywhere, with crap all over. Together, the smell of metal mixed with the sweet scent of marijuana. It made me giggle to myself, Lars hated when we smoked in the garage, because it made his drums smell like weed for weeks. I could imagine the Dane getting red in the face, whining that his snare suck like dope.

We were sitting in an old, ratty couch, worn out for sure, but we were laughing and talking on it about nothing and everything.

Cliff dragged on his end of the joint hard, then passed it back to me. His eyes streaming with NOT a care in the world, he said to me, "You know, if I wasn't playing bass, I'd probably be a rocket scientist. I mean, how hard can it be?"

I snorted, nearly choking on my hit. "Oh, totally. You'd be the first rocket scientist with a denim jacket and jeans.”

He laughed again with that deep, infectious laugh I so loved. "Hey, at least with my way, I would look cool.”

I passed the joint back to him and settled back; that warm tingle began spreading through me. "You know, I've been thinking," I said, my words a much slower and softer than usual. "What if aliens are just future versions of ourselves? Like, they're us—a million years from now?”

Cliff's eyes widened, and he nodded wisely. "That makes total sense. That's why they keep coming back… to make sure we don't fuck things up too badly."

We fell into an ocean of giggles, the kind that made your stomach ache and your eyes water. Just then, the garage door creaked open, and James stepped in with an expression on his face that was just plain annoyed.

"What are you two idiots laughing about now? I can hear you from my room," he asked, shaking his head but clearly fighting off the urge to smile at how dumb we were being.

Cliff grinned up at him. "Hey man… You ever seen an alien?”

James raised an eyebrow. "I’m looking at two right now."

I leaned forward, my eyes glinting. "Shut up James… cliff is a rocket scientist..."

James chuckled. "Yeah, and I'm the president."

"No way!" Cliff gave me a high five… for no particular reason. "You'd be the worst president ever. All you would do is drink."

James shook his head again, still smiling. "You guys are hopeless."

I took another hit, then handed the joint over to James, even though I knew he didn’t smoke weed, he was more of a cigarette kinda guy. "Come on, join us. We're on a roll here. Next we're going to figure out if Bigfoot is real."

Shockingly, James took the joint, a rare indulgence, and took a small, weak puff. "Alright, but only if you promise not to make fun of me."

Cliff and I exchanged a look, then burst out laughing.

James plopped down on an amp, relaxing a bit. "So, what's the deal with Bigfoot?"

Cliff leaned back, seemingly to consider it. "Well, obviously he's real. He's just really good at hiding I guess... Like, world champion or some shit."

"Yep," I chimed in, "he's probably just hanging out in the woods, laughing at us as we try and find him."

James shook his head in disbelief, laughing. "You two are nuts. This is why I don’t smoke.”

Cliff put an arm around me and pulled me close. "That's why you love us, man."

James hit the joint again and passed it back to me. "Whatever, no more rocket scientist talk. I can't handle it."

Finally, James stood up and shook his head, almost for the final time. "Alright, I'm outta here."

He left, and Cliff and I burrowed back into the couch, still giggling. "You know," he said in a low voice, "I love being an idiot with you."

[gilverrwrites]

ok so this is my self indulgent request; the reader is black mask's girl and he gets jealous and annoyed when the riddler keeps flirting with her. i know that man would be seething lmao.

Easy To Lose

Black Mask/Reader/The Riddler, ≈900 words

A/N: You're speaking my language. Although, while I've been playing with some unpublished Riddler stuff, this is the first time I've posted him in sooooooo long, I hope I still do him justice - even if he is a little shit in this lmao. Also is HoH, I will die on that hill. Anyway, I really hope this scratches the right itch for you 💚

The Riddler takes his opportunity to chat you up when Roman is otherwise occupied. Rating: 18+

CWs: Swearing, name calling (freak, coward, pussy), unhealthy/toxic relationships, jealousy/possessiveness, allusions to (kinky) sex, allusions to violence. Reader is GN but hair longish hair.

Please remember: as long as you're trying, you're probably doing better than you think.

Alerted by the muffled sound of a familiar voice you cock your head up, greeted by the smiling face of Edward Nygma, sitting in the unoccupied side of your booth. Roman who is sitting beside you does not offer the same courtesy, too engrossed in sending an email on his phone. If he’d even noticed Ed at all. The thickness of his mask made Roman hard of hearing at the best of times. Combine that with the loud thrum of the club’s music, and Roman was often lost to the world if he wasn’t looking right at it. 

“Huh?” You lean over the table, turning your head to the side, indicating for him to clarify.

“I said;” Ed follows your lead, leaning in until his lips are close enough to press to your ear. His breath is warm, and steeped with the sweet smell of alcohol, something with gin if you had to guess. “What is rarer, and more valuable than gold, but easier to lose?”

Tongue in cheek you glance back at Roman, who remains undisturbed, despite his passive hold on your back having been broken. You wonder how he’ll react when he finally realises what is going on, he’d never been a fan of The Riddler. Ed had never bothered you so much, yes, he could be egotistical and yes, he loved to patronise, but he was also fun, especially when there were drinks involved. Perhaps your time in the bed of Gotham’s underworld had tainted one too many red flags green. 

Turning back to Ed you shrug and ask; “What?”

Without missing a beat Ed reaches a hand up and twirls a finger in a stray lock of your hair. He massages it between his thumb and forefinger bringing it to his nose, and inhaling the scent with his eyes closed. You don’t mind the anticipation, watching his coy smile as he eventually drops your hair, and taps his finger to your nose as he gives you your answer. “You, my dear.” 

You laugh. You bat his shoulder playfully and laugh, and laugh, and laugh until you feel the smooth, hard press of leather cup the back of your neck. Your body freezes, all for your head which turns slowly to face Roman, who has finally clocked onto Ed's presence, his near-black eyes boring into you beneath the shadows of his mask’s sunken eyeholes. 

“What is this?” Unlike Ed, his voice can be heard over the music, likely by anyone in a half mile radius. Although, it occurs to you now that he and Ed had very different intentions.   

Before you can answer, Ed jumps in, always eager to hear the sound of his own voice, or to stir the pot. Probably both. 

“I simply saw this poor dear looking neglected, and thought to myself, who better to offer them some much deserved attention than myself. You ought to be more careful Sionis, lots of people around who might want to steal this one away. Decent, meritorious people.”

Ed reaches up to your hair once more but before he can make contact, Roman pulls you back by the scruff of your neck until you’re snug beside him again, fingers still digging into your soft skin. He’d never pull or squeeze hard enough to really hurt you, at least not outside the bedroom, but there is enough force in it to offer you a warning, to tell you he’s not happy. 

“I can’t hear a word that freak’s talkin’ about.” He informs you. He can tell he’s trying to act calm, but his duel grip on your neck and the wood of the table proves otherwise. His neck is taught and red as he juts his jaw back and forth. “So, I’m gonna ask you this once, you think real hard about what comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours alright? What’s he been sayin’ to you?”

You don’t need to think hard about it. You’re only going home with one of them tonight, and you want to stay on his good side, and if your confession fuels his fire, so be it. Ed wasn’t the only one who could stir a pot. 

The wood of his mask is rigid and cool as you press your lips to the spot that covers his ear. “He said I’m rare, and valuable, and that he wanted to steal me away from you.” 

“He fuckin’ what.” It’s not a question, it’s an expletive, a threat. In seconds Roman is on his feet ready for a fight, but when you both look over, Ed is gone. Swallowed amongst the sea of clubbers. His bright green attire blending in amongst the ever-changing lights of the club. 

“Fuckin coward,” Roman yells, slamming his fists on the table. His chest heaves as he processes his next step, as he decides if he’s going to go after him or not. You help in his decision-making by resting your hand on his wrist and tugging until he looks at you. His eyes dart back and forth between you and the crowd before he gestures to the sea of people. “Is that the kinda man you want baby? A goddamn pussy? Tryin’ to move in on what’s mine and can’t even face me.”

“No…” You coo, shaking your head. When he settles back into the booth you shuffle close to him again. “You know I only want you.”

“Fuckin’ right you do.” He runs a firm hand through your hair until he finds the soft spot at the nap of your neck where he locks his fingers in, using it to pull you even closer. “Guess I’ll have to stake my claim another way. For tonight.” 

Request Info || Prompts || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

[macsimagines]

yo its me about the camgirl thing and uh could you do it for kisaki and kazutora?

I've been busy all day and week but THIS ask has been haunting me and i'm so happy to finally write it, thanks for sending it in I might do a part two IDK

TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, VOYERISM, NSFW, STALKING, MANIPULATION, DUBCON, KISAKI AND KAZUTORA ARE THEIR OWN WARNING, DADDY DOM,

Yandere! Kisaki Tetta

Met you IRL first, as an office worker doing part time. You were a very dedicated and kind person, you had that genuine charm about you that told him it wasn't just an act. You really did care.

He was confused because despite the many offers from many of the men in the office (that he owned) you never took an interest in any of them.

"I can take care of myself, I don't really need anyone to do it for me." Ya right. He payed his workers good, but not that good for a part-timer.

Then he did some research and dug up your true gig. The CAM GIRL persona you had was extremely popular, and that fact drove him INSANE.

He hated that this what you reduced yourself too. Revealing and demeaning yourself for the money... Still all the anger and shame in the world never stopped him from making his own account and dropping waaaaay too much money in your donation bin.

"Ooooo~! Another big donation from 'darkhero'! Thanks, Daddy! I'll put on a special show just for you~!"

He feels so sick and gross, but none of that stops him from pulling his cock out of his pants and moaning along with you during your show.

He buys out your private shows, buys you all the best toys and lingerie and then has you display them for him so he can makes sure his baby girl is having fun playing with all her new things.

"Da-daddy~! Its too much," you'll whimper out riding the new thrusting toy he got you, with the pretty pink plug vibrating in your ass. [You can take it, be good for daddy and keep going~] he'll type out, smirking to himself because he knows just how to break you in the best ways.

"You're honestly really good at this," you tell him one night after his private show, "I'm not just saying that. You'd make a good dom, ever think of making your own channel." and he likes hearing you be genuine with him. He knows what the truth sounds like coming from you.

[I only want to be your Daddy. No one elses, Kitten.] and he really like the way you smile at that. What he likes better is that you start to reach out to him first.

[Interested in a private show? I'll give you a discount?] Now that's too good, Kitten. He has you hooked on him just as badly as you have him hooked on you.

He indulges every time, god knows he has the capital to afford all the time you want to give and then some.

Kisaki is a possessive man though, and he can't take it anymore eventually. Sharing you with all these other unworthy and filthy people who only want your body. He knows you, the real you. No one else deserves you like he does.

Using his connections he has you account banned for something incredibly minor. But your site is completely doxxed, and soon you're running out of money.

Now you're working full time in Kisaki's main office. Where he can take care of you and keep an eye on you.

Yandere!Kazutora Hanemiya

Is completely infatuated with you. Found your camgirl page on a long lonely night. He hasn't gone on dates or even tried to pull women because he's too filled with guilt to even think about being happy with another person.

So he's just scrolling through and finds one of your videos, the stream is starting in like 5 seconds and he figures he'll just give it a shot and if he doesn't like it then he'll go to a different video, right?

Your profile picture is cute, and you're just his type. The video is a special freebie, so maybe it'll be a good one.

"Welcome home, Darling. Long day~?" you say on the other side of the screen, and Kazutora can't help but roll his eyes. It must be some type of roleplay, and he's honestly not trying to use too much of his imagination.

"The hell would you know?" he hisses ready to exit out when suddenly, "Aww don't be like that baby, I can make you feel all better," you promise almost like you could hear him. Like you were speaking directly to him... "I can make all the stress go away," you whisper trailing a finger along your exposed thigh. He really liked the nighty you had on....

Kazutora feels himself get hard a little too quick. Something about the airy way you make your promises and the just warm feeling filling his hollow chest has him so... enraptured by you.

"How's that?" he'll ask despite himself, and when you smile so sweetly at the camera (more like at the influx of donations you're receiving) he's pulling himself out of his sweats.

"Lean back, baby," you order, so gently that Kazutora actually does as you ask, feeling his tense shoulders go lax. He watches as you pull out a toy, smooth silicone that's no where near as large as him, and lick it up and down, "Does my mouth feel good, honey?"

And he almost grunts out a yes as he moves his hands up and down to simulate your own movements... It doesn't take long and he cums, but he doesn't stop. He just keeps going until the overstimulation borders on painful.

After that night he tunes in over and over and over again. Just to watch you, his darling that loves him and takes care of him. He's a huge donator on your channel, and he's always buying personal chows from you when you offer out slots.

He'd buy all the slots if it wasn't for that dumb one per person fucking rule. But he made multiple accounts, because he's your darling and you don't need to show off for others!!!

Kazu always asks for the same scenario, the house wife! You guys are already married, he's sure of it. And you're such a good wife, saying all the things he loves; "I love you so much, darling~! You make me feel soooo good," you moan out riding the dildo that he bought you. "I know you do baby," he'll whimper back, pumping his cock at the same pace your grinding on your toy, "Love you so much, sweetie. My baby, all mine."

This goes on for months. Not because he wants to only have you through the screen but because finding you took so much longer than it should've! Silly baby, used so many different security blocks that it made it hard for him to find you.

But when he did, he was so happy! He can finally take you home. Where you belong.

[freeuselandonorris]

as a pretty much complete stranger to kinks I ask this with genuine and open curiosity: what is it with piss? like what's that kink all about? admittedly I've been wondering about it and I consider you my local expert on the matter (plus your writing has compelled me to enjoy things I never thought I'd dare to touch so I trust your judgement). is it like a marking/possessiveness thing? or a "that's Me" sort of idea? or something else entirely? I'd like to hear what appeals to you about it if you don't mind indulging me

omg anon if i don’t MIND! this is my dream ask lmao especially on a night where i need a good distraction ty 🙏

below the cut for anyone who followed me for the fanart and light romcom fic and not the hard kink 😭

okay SO. i think piss is one of those weird kinks where there’s a lot of different sub-kinks to it and a lot of motivations for it — like, there’s being pissed on/pissing on someone, there’s drinking it (incl forced drinking) which can also have sub-kinks like some people only like to drink “from the source” whereas others like it from glasses or funnels or bottles or don’t care at all. then you have wetting (pissing yourself, basically), which could be just doing it wherever, in certain clothes, in semi-public. there’s omorashi/desperation, some people really get off on the pain of being desperate and holding for hours. plus there’s stuff like diaper play which is very linked to the ‘little’ space and isn’t something i fuck w personally so i can’t comment on that. but basically what i’m saying is there’s no one motivation for people to be into it and different types of piss play will have different appeals, even to the same person.

personally i am generally pro most kinds piss but my real kink is wetting, specifically while fully-dressed and preferably in pale clothes so the wet patch shows up. that’s something i developed an interest in super early — i can remember being a kid and taking the opportunity to piss through my swimsuit after going to the pool lmao. i think the appeal there is the inherent wrongness of it; it’s very linked to shame, humiliation, degradation and also there’s a lot in there about doing things that are forbidden and go against social conditioning. it’s an insanely trippy feeling to do it in front of someone in particular, personally it’s honestly comparable to drugs in how much of an endorphin kick it gives me.

i do also love pissing on/being pissed on though! and that’s def more what you were mentioning about a sense of possessiveness, although for me it’s more linked again to humiliation, particularly when i’m bottoming for it. i’m a huge fan of bodily fluid play in general and there’s a lot in there about feeling marked, about being a receptacle for someone’s waste fluids, about being objectified — one of the hottest piss scenes i’ve ever experienced was a cnc scene where i had a pillowcase taped over my head and then that got pissed on without warning (we had this kind of play pre negotiated!) and there was something about the combination of being made ‘faceless’ and then that happening to me out of the blue 😵‍💫 there’s a kind of devotional aspect to it, like yes i WILL get on my knees and willingly cover myself in your piss because i adore every aspect of you!

andddd finally there’s just the sensory aspect of it! piss is hot and wet and that can feel really good on your skin when you’re turned on 🤷 and honestly if the person you’re drinking from is well hydrated it doesn’t taste or smell too bad, it’s just kinda salty and a bit umami… it kinda reminds me of miso soup at times lmao. if they’re not hydrated or they’ve had a lot of coffee/beer it can be a bit intense and honestly i have gagged and spat it out sometimes! but that’s kinda hot to me too 🤷

whew that was fun lmao. sometimes i feel like i should start a specific blog for this stuff bc i LOVE talking about it! ask me more kink stuff pls!! anyway anon i hope this kinda explained the appeal to you a bit, ty for the respectful and open minded q 🫡

[naranjapetrificada]

I have really, really loved seeing everyone talking about their favorite fics they've written but I wasn't expecting to be tagged tbh because I've posted so few. Thanks so much @scribophile for tagging me so I can play too!

I only have 3 one-shots and a stagnating WIP to my name but I do have favorites, so.

Cornerstone means a lot to me because it was the first time I'd felt moved to write fiction (fan or original) in over a decade. I have years (and two post-secondary degrees worth) of baggage around writing in the way that only 90s "gifted kids" who were actually just neurodivergent can, and being able to write fiction again after so much time and angst has been such a joy.

My favorite of the one-shots though is probably Ways of Wanting, which was literally just inspired by Ed's beautiful, beautiful neck and written in a flurry of thoughts and feelings about the sublimation of queer desire. What I love about it is that if Cornerstone was the roots a seemingly-dead tree defiantly bursting through concrete, then Ways is like the first green shoots of new growth to sprout from the tree's branches. It was fun to write but more than anything else it felt necessary, because I needed to see myself stretching beyond my limits and doing something new.

(I also really love the Birth of Venus image that popped into my head at the last second, and if that had been the only thing to come from having written the whole thing it would still feel worth it.)

Last of course is my historical-ish fantasy-ish WIP, From the Firmament, which I am going to finish, because there's nothing I hate more than breaking promises I've made to myself. Getting the chance to write something this self-indulgent has been so rewarding, especially because of how much it's reminded me that writing can be fun.

Now obviously, drafting chapter 3 has taken significantly more time than anticipated. Part of the problem is that Izzy, in typical fashion, elbowed his way into having a POV section that has been as unpleasant to write as the man himself is to be around (although I have to admit that some of the discomfort is creative growing pains).

But beyond Izzy, there are things about the storytelling process itself at this point that are dredging up a lot of my writing baggage in a way that writing the first two chapters didn't. For a few reasons Ed's POV always takes me the longest, and he's got the lion's share of this chapter's narration. And I definitely spent too long deciding which historical blurb should start the chapter, which kept me floundering for too long trying to build the chapter's basic skeleton. I'm also having to work through poet-brain perfectionism with some of the prose.

But I'm determined to finally learn these and other craft lessons I've been putting off for decades though, just as I'm determined to see this story through to the end.

(also I got laid off in June and sometimes feel guilty if I'm not spending every waking moment on job sites, which is a mistake but it makes writing fic harder than it needs to be. I'm working on it.)

I feel like this game has been going around long enough that almost everyone I would tag has already been tagged, but last time I checked I didn't see a post from @veeagainsttheday nor @tresdem? Both are incredibly skilled (and maybe more importantly, dedicated) writers who have made me cry repeatedly in the best ways possible, so even if they don't want to make their own posts you should still go read their gentlebeard work immediately.

[duckciferthecg]

Alright. This is going to be a long one, but I feel it needs to be said, so

Thank you.

You started this blog a little over a month ago. March 29th. That's it. In under 40 days, you have been able to conjure up a community unlike any I've seen. In under 40 days, you have sparked 20+ other Hazbin cg blogs, 10+ Helluva cg blogs, 10+ Helluva-verse cg blogs, and 15+ other fandom cg blogs. Those are just the ones on Charlie's list! Countless little blogs, including my own!

You have sparked a movement of people like me, too afraid of their regression to go out and show it proudly, to become indulgent in their regressions, have fun with it, and be comfortable in their own skins. Even amongst the anonymous hate, you have brought together a beautiful group of people who most likely never would have interacted with each other if you hadn't started this blog.

I always ignored the childish feelings I had, until I stumbled across your blog in early April. It made me realize I'm not alone, I'm not a creep, I'm not insane, I'm normal. That there are other people, who feel the same way I do, and that it isn't weird to express it, and, I'm going to be honest, I haven't felt this seen and happy in years. I'm finally learning how to be me again.

Lucifer, whatever your name is beyond the screen. Thank you. So much, for creating a space I and probably hundreds of others feel safe in.

@cloudscaregiverservice / @cloudsageregression / @lunaeclipse1057-ao3

Oh…

I-

Hold on-

Let me go cry real quick-/pos

I’m so happy to have helped to many people!

I honestly thought this blog would go no where and that it would just be something silly but it’s actually been super useful to not only others, but myself

I-

Helping other people is amazing and it’s literally my life’s goal (Irl I want to be a therapist) and knowing that I’m actually helping people is amazing!

You guys have helped me so much too

I’ve learned more about myself

I’ve re-established my main goal in life

Because of your guys’ love and support

I have people in my life that I’m not only friends with, but I am close with. I haven’t had such amazing people in my life before and it’s honestly been so amazing

Throughout everything, my inspiration for the next thing in life has shifted from floating around in the unknown to being able to help you guys

I love you all so so so much

So much more than you can possibly imagine

Thank you

❤️✨

[syoish-aot]

HOLY SHIT IT'S DONE!!

I was having some intense posting paralysis all morning (I think I reread the last scene like 15x just to make sure it was worded exactly right).

*he terrifying fear when you write something you really love and you're scared no one else will like it as much as you do*

ANYWAY -

Thank you so much to everyone that's been regularly reading slash commenting on I Found You! It was my first time posting fic to tumblr and I had a lot of fun doing it!

I always have SO MANY ideas for fics, but I get overwhelmed by the idea of seriously perusing them. A lot of this comes from the fear that no one will read them and I'll have spent all of my time writing for absolutely nothing. BUT I've been trying to humble myself lately and recognize the joy in the writing process itself and the satisfaction of getting my ideas fully fleshed out on paper aka google docs regardless of the attention they get.

Despite that, anyone who writes fic understands how shitty it feels when you work for DAYS on something and get crickets in the comments. It sucks. And that's sort of how I've been feeling with my fics on Ao3 lately- which kicks my motivation right in the ass.

In writing I Found You, I think I got some of that motivation back. Not JUST because I was getting regular commenters (again, thank you so much) but also because I was able to slip fully into my self indulgence and finally write out one of the verses that's been existing in my mind palace for MONTHS!

So, all of this rambling is to say this -

I really liked sharing this story with you guys on tumblr, and I'm for sure going to be doing more of this style in the future.

I'll be posting I Found You to Ao3 as well, but I want to edit it a bit (and possibly add a few more scenes) before doing that.

Basically the version I posted here is more of a rough draft, and then the final version will be the one on Ao3.

If you like my writing, consider checking out my Reader/Eren long fic "Ten Seconds" (100k, complete on Ao3) or the post-canon Jean/OC fic I'm working on "The Letters She Wrote"

If you read all of this, then here's your reward - a sneak peak at the VERY LONG isekai/time travel fic that I'm going to be working on next...

Chapter 1 - "You, 2000 years in the future"

Shiganshina High - 2024

You’d taken Ancient History as an elective to fill your schedule because no other class fit in the period. 

Also to piss off your dad about not taking AP calculus.

(But mostly it was the schedule thing.)

It wasn’t that you disliked Ancient History, you just found it painfully boring and mind numbing. It was the class right after lunch and every assignment was another boring paper that sounded the exact same over and over and over again.

(Although it did leave you wondering how many times you could start a paper with “the oxford dictionary defines discovery as…” before Mr. Arlert, the ancient old man who taught the class, caught on.)

Thankfully, you didn’t have to put too much effort into the class to get a good grade and because of that the class was an easy A that you could use to maintain your honor roll. Mr. Arlert was retiring at the end of the year, so he was pretty much entirely checked out. You had a feeling he didn’t actually read any of your papers and gave your grades out based on how well he assumed you did the assignment. Which, again, meant you got an A on every one. So Mr. Arlert had a habit of putting on documentaries instead of actually teaching anything. 

And you weren’t about to complain about that.

Armin was sitting next to you furiously taking notes on the documentary that Mr. Arlert, his grandpa and teacher, had put on. You understood his struggle to impress his grandpa in the class he taught on a personal level. You used to be like that when it came to math, but now you normally felt yourself doing the opposite. “The opposite”, meaning:

Not taking AP calculus.

Writing the wrong answer on a quiz, even after doing the work to prove the correct one.

Asking pointless questions in class just to see him get that constipated I-can’t-treat-you-like-my-daughter-right-now-because-you’re-my-student-but-god-do-I-wish-I-could-ground-you look.

You smiled at the memory, feeling quite pleased with yourself, until the monotone voice of the documentary playing at the front of the class pulled  you back into the present:

“The ancient people of Paradis elected large walls, presumably to protect themselves from invaders during this time.” You looked back at the projector. There was a poorly done animation of what historians suspect the three large walls may have looked like, back when they still stood almost 2000 years ago. 

The documentary, just like every documentary Mr. Arlert put on, seemed pretty pointless to show to a class of eleventh graders who were already very aware of the mysterious history of Paradis. 

You’d all grown up here and had been taught about this stuff since grade school. Paradis was a major hub for ancient history. There were dozens of museums throughout the island, all holding different ancient artifacts and pieces of your country’s history. Pieces that’s functions had been lost to time, leaving archeologists only able to guess the true history of your people and what these items were for.

“...purpose of them is still unknown, some archaeologists theorize they were used for early agriculture, although others argue they may have been used for religious reasons…”

On the screen was one of the most mysterious relics of ancient Paradis. Two metal cylinders, attached to some sort of strap. Normally, they were found with a large box of metal that was meant to hold something, along with canisters of unknown contents. The were rare, but a few dozen of them had been uncovered in the last hundred years and have only continued to add to the mystery of ancient Paradis. 

Of course, you were curious what their origins may be too, but not curious enough to look into it further than this class and the occasional trip you make to the Paradis Museum. 

“...these large man-eating monsters were an important part of Paradis folklore, some argue they were likely worshiped as go-”

The bell rang, finally saving you from your mind numbing documentary focused torture.

“Ah!” Mr. Arlert jerked awake at his desk. “Yes, well- I hope you all learned something important today!” He quickly said as he stood. “Don’t forget, your final papers are due on Monday morning. Despite it, I hope you’re able to enjoy your weekend!”

You hoped so too.

God, did you hope so...

[koalaphoenix]

I was going through my art folder on my phone and realized how far I've come with how I draw Shay (and her different forms).

Way back in 2021 I drew her for the first time. She effectively came from a dream I had, where I lived her life in one night. But the struggle was I never actually really saw what Shay/I looked like in the dream. I knew what I was, who I was, but not what I looked like, beyond my hands. One of the most spectacular dreams I've ever had, by the way.

So early on when I was streaming, I decided to take a crack at drawing the dragon woman I'd been in the dream. I couldn't even really remember my/her name, although with help from my friends it came to me.

The first sketch was... Rough, at best. I had no clue how to draw an anthro creature, which Shay effectively was. I used multiple references to even sorta rough out what I wanted, and the result was not spectacular. But it was a start.

Then I was memeing with my friends about our D&D characters. I fully intended to RP as Shay when we began a campaign. It led to the version above - the first proper drawing where I was mostly happy with her overall design.

Late 2021 and I tried to push myself a little further, although I still didn't know what I was doing.

Art block hit me like a truck for a few months. When I finally managed to get drawing again, the results were initially really, really bad. But it wasn't too long and I drew what would end up being a far more finalized version of her design, the template for many future works. She was a more agile figure than her design sketch. I adjusted her horns to make more sense anatomically, and to fit better with her hair.

And also I drew abs on her.

Then there were several more drawings. I touched on alternate versions, put her in some fun situations as self indulgence, tried to experiment with difficult poses. There was a lot of struggle, as I still couldn't quite get her head shape consistent.

Then I found some new resources, and on a whim I drew what's becoming my favorite alternate version of her: Shayaa.

(Flat color iteration shown)

Shayaa was born out of two thoughts. I wanted a version of Shay that was a little thicc, and I wanted a version where she hadn't been abandoned. This ended up with her in armor, and was a leap forward in terms of quality and some design cues. The softer snout, more defined mouth, and thicker horns ended up really helping me draw her more consistently.

I was worried that it was one of those cases where I went beyond my actual ability and wouldn't be able to replicate it, but I was mostly wrong.

I decided I wanted to adjust "prime" Shay's design a bit, to improve her visibly aging and to widen the gap between her and Shayaa to emphasize their differences. I thinned her up a bit, made her muscles more lean, and rounded her features to make her appear more youthful - she's in her early 20s at the start of Godbreaker, but I saw her design as more in her late 20s or early 30s. She was always intended to be more lean than I'd drawn her, but skill issue. I also kinda hated parts of her default outfit, they seemed off and weren't the easiest to draw.

And now? I'm pretty satisfied with her design. She looks younger and more lean, and ideally a little less "civilized." Her hair got spikier to make it easier for me to draw - I suck at floofy hair. She's still pretty big, at 6'7" tall, but she doesn't look like a brick house anymore (nothing wrong with that, I love brick houses, she was just not intended to be that).

But yeah. Going through the old art, a lot of which I can't add to this post, it really hit home to me how much in such a relatively short time she's changed since the first real sketch, how much I've changed...

...And how much has stayed the same.

Aaaand to not end on any sort of deep moment, holy shit her old feet were HUGE.

[sazzujazzu]

Hello, as the days count down and the Bad Batch finale draws closer, may I show to the fine folks of tumblr my first Star Wars OC in 20 years, created thanks to this show? 😃

Too bad, I'm showing them anyway 😊 somberly chilling while listening to their bestie talk.

Please excuse the poor background (I got lazy) and half-finished Tech (I got sad)

there's, uh, a big mess of words under the image because I wanted to put into words the importance this show has for me, and I am bad at doing so.

I want to get some thoughts off my chest, because I have no one in my day-to-day life who cares about the animated Star Wars shows, and especially the Bad Batch. (well, other than my mom, but I don't want to bore her with my rambling too much. she already banned star wars from me once, i won't let that happen again lol)

I can't stop thinking how much I don't want Bad Batch to end.

This show has been so dear to me. I can't remember the last time I've loved something this much.

Before the second season started, I had an artistic block that had lasted way too long. Anything I drew or wrote, mostly turned out a horrible mess after staring at a blank page for hours and hours, if I ever managed to create anything at all. For someone who tends to draw whenever their hands aren't otherwise busy (aka all the damn time), such a block weighed down on my mental health.

Well, then season two happened, and full-on gave me back my love for Star Wars, a love that had somewhat gone out over the last few years. Then, Plan 99 happened, and broke me because again my favorite character "died" (I'm in team Tech lives until I draw my last breath or until proven correct. That chocolate-eyed cutie-pie is alive nothing will convince me otherwise). Pretty much after finishing the episode and staring at a wall for another 30 minutes, I said "nope" and began writing.

I wrote for hours. I believe it's been well over a decade since I last wrote fanfiction, but here I was, creating a Star Wars oc, something I'd last done as a ten-year-old. And now, roughly a year later, I think I've written over a hundred pages of (very self-indulgent) fanfiction with the Batch, and with my oc that I've come to love.

And drawing, oh boy, have I been drawing!

(... Sure, I've mostly been drawing Tech, over and over again, to a point I once actually considered lying and saying "yeah that's my boyfriend haha!" to a man at my job last summer, when asked who it was that I was drawing for maybe fifth day in a row 😂 likely would've been a more acceptable excuse for someone my age. But, I mean... I just really love drawing him, not only because he is my favorite character of maybe all time, but because he is just so fun to draw! And most of all, at least I draw again!)

And it is all thanks to this wonderful show about a bunch of defective and effective copy-paste boys and their sister.

It's probably something many say, but I've always felt like a bit of an outsider. I've felt like I have no place; when I was a kid, my interests were very different from the other kids of [gender assigned at birth], and trying to play with them while inserting my own interests into the games, often didn't go so well. I was... kind of an odd child (although now, older and questionably wiser, knowing that I might actually be autistic, many things make more sense now. me kind of discovering this about myself is also partially thanks to Bad Batch)

Also, growing up trans/non-binary, while not even knowing what that is or having a word for it, didn't really do much to help with the feeling of "I'm different and an outsider because of it". Perhaps it was one more reason I fell in love with Clone Force 99, because I could see some of myself in them. Being different from the "regs".

I love this show, and these fictional people have become my family, and I am not ready to say goodbye to them.

Alright, weird pile of thoughts over. In case someone read all this, uh... thanks 😊

[twotangledsisters]

My First Week Learning 3D

Do I ever stop picking up random skills and hobbies? Nope. It's my horde. As a dragon I must collect them forever and ever.

Last Friday I decided to learn Blender! Here's how that went:

First I did CG Fast Track's Begginer Tutorial.

There I build a minecraft scene:

Then joyfully tore it down :D

Then in the next parts of the tutorial I made a sword!

And some quick animations with said sword:

After that I needed to just, make sure I had some control over the movements, habit of changing into the right modes, habit of applying stuff, so I did 3DGreenHorns Smooth living room tutorial.

Which may or may not now have me obsessed with the idea of tiny isometric rooms...

I then did Polygon Runway's Spaceship Loop tutorial so I could practice animation.

I learnt soooo much with this one! Like... key framing in blender is AMAZING! I love it! I am obsessed with the idea of animating in this program!

After that I decided to learn to do characters... I tired to make a little Cassandra using Eve Sculpt's character modeling tutorial... But I just got really confused (my fault 100% the tutorial was really good!) and eventually gave up.

But here's some nightmare imagery for you!

This had me feeling a bit sad so I decided to do a quick and easy tutorial, and cause I loved Polygon Runway's first tutorial, I went with their little coffee shop tutorial.

This was so fun to do! It was quick, easy, and I learnt about lighting! :D

After this I allowed myself to indulge in a quick personal project and made a lantern:

Not much to say about this, it's a lantern xD don't ask about the sky, I'm learning, okay!

Then I indulged in yet another personal project as I wanted to test out physics and it's almost October soo....

Little ghost!!

I technically tried to animate it but umm.... my computer does not have that sorta power XD

Finally, having picked up my moral I knew I had to learn character modeling so I chose Keelan Jon's character modeling tutorial and this time I pulled it off!

I love how cute this little character is!

There are a few glaring mistakes but.... shush.

I learnt sooo much from this tutorial! It was sooo much fun! And I'm definitely feeling like character modeling isn't too far out of my reach now.

So yeah, that was my first week with Blender. I actually wanted to do a final personal project yesterday to complete the week, but my ex came over and I didn't get the chance. But despite the week being cut short I'd say it was still a very successful first dive into a new program!

I have a few projects planned, but I'm also aware to really get the hang of a program like blender doing a bunch of tutorials is super important, especially just getting used to the keyboard shortcuts, navigation, etc..

Anyway, that's where I've been this week xD

Also, I kinda lied... I said first week with blender but I actually downloaded blender back in February and did one singular tutorials before quitting....

Blender Guru's Donut Tutorial amazing tutorial but... I might suggest starting with something a little less comprehensive xD

[pinayelf]

Pinya pls tell the world more about Immy!!! How did you design her look?? What inspo are you usually drawn to? Talk shop Tuesday sounds super fun!

Thank you so much!!!

Haha I will never turn down an opportunity to yap about Immy ❤️

When I first designed Immy in the DAI CC I wasn't really thinking of any specific thing. I gave her wide set eyes because I think wide set eyes are SO PRETTY. I gave her curly hair because I also thought it was pretty and most of my ocs at that point only had straight hair

I know the way elves looked in DA2 isn't really the canon, but I do LOVE an "elfy" look outside pointed ears, so I also gave her the high nose bridge. Human!Immy doesn't have this so there's a difference in designs haha.

It took me a bit to settle on her final design (if you've been here for a long time Immy wasn't always a soft pastel pink girl), but once I finally settled on her being chubby, freckled and having dimples I also decided to just go in and give her that pink princess-y and magical girl aesthetic.

I've never done that for an OC because if you were on the internet during the 00s-early 10s, it was generally frowned upon to make an OC so indulgent - also that type of aesthetic is seen as cringe. But also deep down I knew I liked it for myself and it actually helped me finally find my own personal style. (My personal style is also similar to Immy's but mixed with Amihan's as well :))

I wanted to see a chubby brown woman be romanticized as well as I love the idea of a pastel pink aesthetic in contrast with the world of Thedas lmao. I know (for now) there isn't really any type of lore wrt that type of aesthetic so it's fun to explore and world-build how Immy would achieve her look in Thedas.

This would be the type of inspo I'm usually drawn to! More for the modern setting Immy but also a bit for Thedas or high fantasy Immy

Romantic, cute statement pieces, lots of pink, some 00s bubblegum pop and a bit of romantic 70s

For Thedas and high fantasy it's this! (not entirely historically accurate and ALSO mixing time periods which Thedas does anyway lmao)

THAT gunne sax dress again (a dream dress for me, I want to own one so badly), Italian Renaissance dresses as I ADORE THEM, and for a lack of a better descriptor "elfy" fantasy style dresses too. I go a bit heavy handed in the princess look but I am one of those people who love the princess lavellan deal lol

This is so long but thank you for asking!!! Talk shop Tuesday is fun ❤️

[mooifyourecows]

Can I ask your top favorite fics that you've written (feel free how much that you want to list)? Why they're special to you? Is there a specific inspiration when you wrote them? Thanks....

Hmmmm let's see... I'll do top five. Generally I like ALL the fics that I've written (I wouldn't post something I didn't like, tbh)(even though some have been started and then completely abandoned RIP sorry to them) so it's kinda difficult to rank them, but here's my best whack at it:

Summer Rain- I really enjoy writing this fic. I love the massive cast and all the little storylines happening all at once. I know it's kinda on hiatus at the moment but I really do look forward to when I get back to writing it because I love thinking about how everything will eventually coalesce into the climax. Dropping off on cliffhangers is also a special indulgence of mine, even if it makes people angry 😈I started this one based off of an OLD original story idea i had once upon a time. I realized that it had a better chance of getting written if it was a daisuga fic, so here it is! Though it definitely went completely off the rails from the original plan.... (in a good way)

and the Emi goes to...- The DaiSuga dynamic in this one is probably one of my favorites. At this point everyone should know I LOVE slow burns and this one takes its sweet ass time. And as someone who hates the idea of being a parent myself, it's nice being able to live vicariously through the characters to get my fill of parenthood without ever having to have a kid lmao. My inspiration was "I want to write a single parent AU" and poof, there it was.

Let it Ride- Man I don't even know what it is about this fic but I adore it. I think Daisuga's relationship in it is just so... 😘👌 The childhood best friends who know everything about each other and are willing do to ANYTHING for one another, even give up the opportunity of a lifetime... just the sentiment of loving someone so much that you'd be happy struggling with them really takes me out, you know? It's about love but it's about like, too. They LIKE each other so much, what a pair! I got the idea to write it because I LOVE fake relationship AUs and I LOVE LOVE when the stakes are set at the highest setting, AKA Marriage.

Hard Times- Another fake dating AU because as previously mentioned I LOVE them. This one just checks so many boxes for me. Revenge? Crime? Sex? Comedy? Drama? More revenge? Closure? Catholicism? Sign me up! (as the writer I think I'm automatically signed up, but ya know.) I had a lot of fun writing it. And Radish made beautiful art for it so really, what's not to like? I don't remember what inspired it... I think I just wanted to write another fake dating scenario with a funny meet cute.

Open Tab- I feel like I'm obligated to put Open Tab on any list when it comes to my writing because it's the OG, ya know? It's the first fic that got me deep into the Haikyuu fandom and I gotta appreciate it for that reason alone. We've been through a lot together, me and good ol OT. The only hate mail I ever got was on Open Tab. The thrill of it all... I had so much fun writing it. And while right now it's definitely a bit of a pain in my ass, trying to get the motivation to continue it, I can't erase all the good times we had together. I owe it a lot! Someday it will finally be over and I'm both dreading and looking forward to that day. My inspiration was alcoholism. Drink responsibly, kids.

[dogueteeth-fhr]

Fanfic Writer Questions

Thank you @silvery-bluish & @glitchy-npc for the tags! Not sure who else to send it to atm but if you see this on my page and decide to pitch in with your answers feel free to @ me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I've got 12! Most are oneshots, others are series.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

47002 on AO3 at the moment! And so much more in my docs.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Primarily Fallen Hero, with a dash of TWC and some other fandoms sprinkled in my WIPS but I've been on Fallen Hero brainrot for a long time now so the other fandoms are currently neglected.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Nightmare (surprisingly enough) w/ 28 kudos

focus (it's harder than you think) (also surprising lol) w/ 20 kudos

new pavement w/ 18 kudos

anamnesis w/ 18 kudos

freefall w/ 13 kudos tied with bath(toaster)tub also w/ 13 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to respond to all of them! But some days I just don't have the spoons to and I forget, but I really appreciate any comments I receive.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

HA. you want me to pick??? Ok hrm. maybe bath(toaster)tub? anamnesis also has so me pretty angsty pieces in there.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

PFFF. ok gotta. go look for this one. Maybe sargasso sea, though it's technically not the last iteration in its series between a continued plotline hinted out in after the fall and a third part planned for its series.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet! I think.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

(slaps brain) this bad boy can generate so much smut. I write pretty much any kind? Soft, rough, indulgent, M/M, F/M, F/F, other any everything, kinky or emotional, etc. Just whatever strikes me at the time, but most just dont get published bc I'm mid.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I typically HATE crossover fics they just aren't my thing I do write AUs of X story set in X story's universe, just haven't published them (wait does that still count as a crossover).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nah, considered it once tho.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! Haven't found someone with the vibe ig, it's just never crossed my mind to co-write a fic and just never been asked too.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

(cue strained breath) i have no all time favorites BUT. but. Ricardo/Wei gets me SO soft ok. i just. unrequited years long attraction finally requited and i. AAAAA. place sidestep in there too and i'm just so happy. i need poly rep in my life sometimes ok.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I stare into the google docs hell and ask you how you could expect me to pick one but. BUT. Praeludium//Allegro. A piece meant to dive in how Sidestep is able to experience the moment someone dies through their mind.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Shorter pieces! They tend to be about ~2000-5000 words per part, that's usually when I feel I've done my best. I'm also. Decent at NSFW writing? Sometimes, at least.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Definitely long fics. I had a plan for freefall and have scrapped and adapted it multiple times now, pus it's just difficult to keep myself interested in specific but necessary chapters.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

It's fun! I've included Spanish and Russian excerpts into my fics before but I don't do it a lot. Considered writing fully in Spanish at some point for an Ortega POV but I'm not confident in my grammar abilities. Spanish verb tenses my beloathed.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Naruto. On a different old account best left to gather dust.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Hm, I'm not sure if I have a favorite. I do really like the NSFW piece I wrote from Remy's POV, though. Short but good.