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heyidkyay · 2 years ago

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part One

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Warnings: This is gonna deal with a lot of controversial shit surrounding Matty and his past I'm ngl, so if you're not into that then I'd suggest not reading this! But if you are, then hi!! I hope you enjoy?

Authors Note: I'm back...:)) Back with a series too, or it will be if this first part goes down well! Lmao so pls don't hate it! Butttt in all honestly, I do have to quickly thank @procrastinatinglikeapro for all the kind words she gave me on the snippets I annoyed her with recently and for forcing me to actually believe in this fic because I very much was on the fence about posting again. So thank youuuu, it means a whole lot<3 Also, the skeleton of this was taken from a very old fic of mine which I started during the height of covid that I've just been thinking about trying to better for a long while now, so... enjoy?

And I guess let me know if this is something anyone would want to read more of? Yeeeeah, I really don't know what else to write here now, it's been a while, so! Hi, help, bye:)

Masterlist

Chapter 1: He's got the whole world falling at his feet

“Yeah, yeah! I’m really into their sound at the minute! Honestly fell in love with their recent performance at the VMA’s– didn’t overdo it and kept it true to themselves. Definitely did a great job there, so well done with that one if you’re listening in, lads!”

I was grinning from ear to ear as I spoke into the microphone before me, which was to be expected whenever I was at work. Strange, yeah I know, but only to any typical person with the usual nine to five, because I truly did love my job. It was tough work, strenuous at times, contrary to what most might believe, but it was pretty much everything I’d ever dreamt of.

See, I’d grown up on the outskirts of this tiny village in the Isles, where everybody knew everything about everybody. Secrets were never well kept– you could just ask our local priest about that one, who often used to regale most of the confessions he’d heard in the only pub around for miles whenever he’d been pissed beyond being able to sit on his barstool.

It was also incredibly tight-knit, as in, all the kids who went to school together, then grew up and married one another, settling down and taking over the jobs that their parents or grandparents would soon retire from. Hardly anyone moved away, if ever.

In reality though, it was actually just a place I’d always felt like a stranger in. Where I’d struggled to fit in and make friends, to form bonds outside of the one I shared with my mum.

Which sounds sad speaking about it, but still true, I’d had a real tough go of it back in school. ‘Mouse’ was what they’d seemingly dubbed me back then, a nickname which had travelled throughout the masses all too quickly seeing as there had only been about sixteen kids in both my year and the one above.

The name had mostly started due to me just having been an extremely timid child, hiding behind my mum’s flowing skirts whenever we went into town and much preferring that of my own company whenever other kids were mulling about. But that fact hadn’t gotten any easier for me once I’d been forced out of school for a few years after an accident that had flipped my entire life on its head. Resulting in me being further isolated from the rest of the world and my fuck-face of a father running for the hills.

Still. Shit happened, I supposed, and I’d been forced to deal with it and grow up.

Too quickly, in truth.

So whilst everyone else had been out living, I’d been holed up in our little dove cottage miles away from them all, with only books and music to keep me company. Music which had been a true constant in my life and just about the only thing that had gotten me by.

As well as my mum, who’d forever be my rock. And back when we’d both been growing up– because that was how it’d always felt with us– she had constantly had the tele on full blast throughout the day, cycling through the freeview channels that played the recent top 50 and old school classics.

It was one of my favourite things to look back on now. Sometimes if she was ever in the mood, or when the power would finally flicker and go out completely when a storm hit, she’d spin this old phonograph her own father had gifted her in the days before she’d left home. The two of us would dance around the living room whilst she would clean on Saturday mornings and then hum to it as we settled in for a long downpour, her working on her trusty crossword whilst I would read or draw. The brass pavilion would croon out old French records she had bought long before she’d moved to the UK, and before she’d ever even met my father.

And I would just lose myself in it all.

It wasn’t just the basic premise of music that I had enjoyed though, it was everything else that also came along with it. The opinions, the reviews, the personal stories and thoughts, the way it could make a person think and feel.

So, for years I would just sit down at the kitchen table and write for hours on end about the sound, the rhythms I’d felt and heard, the lyrics that had had me bellowing out or playing on a never-ending loop in my head. And then, as a teen, Twitter had come along and had been just another way for me to express it all.

It was actually Twitter that had eventually led to all of this.

The radio.

At first, I’d never paid much mind to all of the people who had started to discover the small page I’d created, the few users that had enjoyed reading my inner thoughts. But then one day I had and it had been an insane concept to comprehend, the very idea that people cared enough to stop and read my thoughts, but it was also what had, ultimately, pushed me into continuing with it.

From there, opinions on genres of music and their style throughout different decades quickly turned into thoughts on up and coming artists, then actors and other A-list celebrities. So I had ended up spending an awful lot of time online, simply just tweeting about it all, on subjects followers had wanted to hear about and answering questions on whether I loved a certain album or this new EP.

The account had grown rapidly shortly after and by the time I’d had the balls to tell my mum I had wanted to leave home and make a start for myself, in London of all places, the account I used had gained well over fifteen thousand followers.

I went to uni down there and met people. People who didn’t shy away from me or shine a light on my odd quirks. I met my best mate there, too. And Finn was unlike any other. The platonic love of my life, or so I’d since dubbed. He was eccentric, witty, and didn’t care about what anyone else thought of him. Forced me to feel that way too, slowly but surely. And it had only taken a few weeks before he'd grown rather suspicious of my constant need to always have my phone near.

He had, pretty early on, decided that I must’ve had some secret boyfriend back at home that I’d yet to tell him about and had annoyed me about it at every twist and turn, basically backed me into a metaphorical corner. So to say I’d relented fairly quickly wouldn’t be a lie, and I’d told him all about the account soon enough.

Finn had actually been the one to suggest that I take it further, somewhere bigger, make it into something that people could actually tune into and not just read about. I had taken the consideration on board way back then, but had only acted on it when shit had hit the fan a year or so later. But we'll soon get into that.

So with it all, I ended up making an actual radio show out of my thoughtless Twitter account, allowing people to listen in and actually get to know the person behind the name.

That was essentially how ‘Mouse On A Mic' had come to life.

Yup, I’d kept the fucking nickname! I couldn’t not in truth, it was familiar, reminded me of the person I once was, and who I currently am now. But the only difference was, I’d given it a new story. I’d reclaimed it.

The show's audience grew fairly quickly during that first year, I was new on the scene and seemingly refreshing. I had a no-bullshit kind of attitude that my listeners apparently admired. I called celebs out on their crap and went to new extremes to conjure up inventive ways to get followers involved.

Ultimately ended up doing things that other radio presenters were too afraid to do at the time. Which was fair enough, in hindsight, they had actual endorsers and brands that were backing them up and funding their streams. Me, on the other hand, I had no-one to answer to for my mistakes or any of the backlash the show received. It was just me, sat alone in my bedroom, speaking into a mic.

Only, a few years had since passed and now it was me sitting in a quaint little studio in East London, not too far from my flat and walking distance from any and every coffee chain that the city had to offer.

Anyway, I forced myself to adjust my headset over my right ear as I wheeled closer to the table, aware of the one too many monitors and power cables I had to constantly avoid, and glanced upwards, locking eyes with my co-producer, Adi.

The girl shot me a hurried gesture, a circular wave of her hand that had me chuckling to myself even as I silently waved her off, knowing I’d already gotten off track one too many times this recording.

"Alright! It seems as though we've got to move on with the next segment of the show now! Unfortunately, Ads here has informed me that I can't just sit around all day and talk about Inhaler forever. A right shame that, don’t you think?”

I huffed theatrically whilst Adi merely shook her head in return, dark ringlets brushing the length of her shoulders as she mouthed the word 'prick' through the thick sheet of plexiglass that separated us.

Ignoring that loving endearment in favour of continuing on with the commentary, I hoped I hadn’t steered too far off track seeing as there was still an awful lot scheduled for today's show that I had yet to go over.

“So moving on!” I sighed on into the mic and rubbed my palms together, eyes flitting over the few sheets of paper I had perched before me, “It seems like quite a few of you lot, over on Twitter especially, have made it loudly known that you want to hear my thoughts on Manchester’s very own Matthew Healy. God, is there yet another scandal under his belt I don’t yet know about? Makes me wonder where he’s finding the time.”

I shook my head briefly at the bulleted point I’d been given and rolled forward in my seat. The wheels squeaked beneath my weight and I made a silent prayer that the mics hadn’t picked up the sound.

What a fucking topic, I thought quietly to myself and sent Adi a semi-amused smile before peering down at the recent headline she had handed over to me earlier that morning.

It was the same old thing. Expected really at this point.

“Healy’s at it again! Whatever will we do?” I gasped, playing up the whole thing as I stared down at a few images of the haughty singer that were plastered across the printout I held in front of me.

There were four of them, a quick succession of pictures that had all seemingly come from a clip at a recent concert. Bit blurry but the title gave away to what was happening.

A laugh bubbled up out of my throat as soon as I read the headline. “Oh God! It appears Matty Healy is– wait for it!– back at it again, only this time it seems he’s gone and traded off a drumstick for…” I paused to drum quite the anticipating beat against the tabletop of my desk and, as stoic as I possibly could, I then added, “A joint!”

A smug grin slid its way up onto my lips when I heard Adi’s faint cackle echo from just outside the booth.

“Honestly, I swear that everything this man does makes the rags! Reckon I actually saw an article about how he took his tea this one time. And like, do me a favour, yeah?” I rolled my eyes but relented, “A man of the people though, in’t he? He’s got to be! I mean, just look at this headline. Fucking who the hell writes this shit?”

Tossers, I supposed. But even so.

“It’s madness.” I muttered, gently clucking my tongue as I shook my head at the so-called news that had made the front page. “But anyway, I’m guessing that most people claim him to be the epitome of a real time rockstar, and sure, he might just be. 'Sex, drugs, rock & roll', all that shit. But really, how much longer is it going to last until everything goes tits up, hey?

“I mean, Healy can pretty much do whatever he wants at this point in his career, he’s got half the world either falling at his feet or complaining about him- has done since he was what, a kid? Following his parents amongst the shadows of their fame before he eventually stepped out and made an actual name for himself. Saying that, it still is insane to see how much he’s changed!”

And it was. Healy and his band had risen to fame so evidently, their music everywhere, they sold out shows constantly and had the privilege to fly across the globe doing whatever they pleased. But they’d also practically grown up in the limelight, Matty especially. So it was hard not to notice the resounding changes that shone through in all the news and gossip that ran riot.

“But, if I am being truthful.” I went on to say, thumb toying with the page’s sharp edge, “And when am I not? I thought that most of the shit that went around about him at first was a load of crap– publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that. Or maybe just him being an idiot, a young lad who’s had to grow up with all these cameras consistently on him and had to basically learn what he can and can’t say in front of them. Slipping up from time to time, like most do. But, now? I’m honestly not too sure… It’s just a bit sad. Isn't it? There was so much potential there.”

I shrugged, a hearty sigh falling with my shoulders.

“I actually used to quite like his stuff a couple years ago, he’s got a way with words, with music overall really. Reckon if he’d gotten his shit together that he probably could’ve been ranked higher up on the list of rockstars. Could’ve changed or paved a way for newer musicians entering the scene. But not so much anymore. His songs lack the passion they once had, they’re not what they used to be. He works hard, I’ll give him that. Still, I can’t help but wonder if it’s just his band pulling his dead weight along with them now.”

I took a slow breath, then gazed down at the small amount of sticky notes I had pinned to the monitor beside me: the next segment. I’d have to wrap this one up quickly.

“Maybe that’s a bit harsh.” I said, chewing on my lower lip, “But honestly, I just hope that he takes an actual break sooner rather than later. The band looks spent and he just seems like he could do with some shut eye, some time away from all the cameras and prying eyes. Just so he can sort himself out good and proper, you know? Then again, that’s just my opinion among a sea of many.”

In truth, I really did think that Matty had real talent, that raw kind, and he seemed like a nice enough guy– or at least he had done, a couple of years back, before all the controversy and whatever else.

Now though, the man just seemed so caught up in it all, in the fame, the tabloids, the drama. Unaware of just how far he’d fallen.

Me, I’d seen it one too many times before, with many of the greats even, and as painful as it was to watch, what more could I say or do? I'm nobody in comparison.

I blew out a short breath.

“Fuck, that got all serious didn’t it?” I tried to laugh it all off and only felt a little more at ease when I finally glanced up and caught Adi’s sincere smile, “Anyway, onto our next segment, reading a couple of your lots tweets! Let's see what everyone's saying about our amazing Adi today, shall we? What was it last week, Ads, those yellow trousers you were wearing?”

“Oi, will you two please stop mucking about? We’ve got to get going!” I scolded without any actual heat, shaking my head as I held back a chuckle, forever amused by the infamous pair stood a way away from me.

I’d not long since left the studio, having walked with Adi to the nearby tube station so that she could hop a train home before I had headed on over to Finn’s. It was a typical route for me and not too long of a walk, but since arriving I’d been roped into packing up the many belongings that had been messily upended from the Spiderman backpack I was so often seen carrying about.

My gaze skittered over to the other side of the room once I’d teethed together the bag’s plastic zipper, over to where my son, Teddy, was currently in the midst of being whirled around by his godfather, tawny coloured curls flying in every-which direction whilst his cheeky grin grew even more prominent.

I felt the corners of my mouth lift upwards as I watched my best mate laugh at whatever it was the toddler had just said to him, tickling the boy’s sides as he did. If I was feeling incredibly sappy, I’d tell Finn then just how thankful I was to have him around, because he truly was incredible.

From the moment I’d found out that I was pregnant, Finn had been there for me. He loved my son almost as though Teddy was his own, he adored the kid like no other and had placed him on a pedestal high above everyone else since the day he was born.

Finn was always free to take Teddy whenever I had the show to fret about too, or if I was ever in dire need of another helping hand. He was fiercely protective of the two of us and I knew in the very depths of my heart that there would never be a hair harmed on my son’s head so long as he was around.

I was pulled from my thoughts just as the toddler in question came bounding over, giggling uncontrollably as Finn chased after him, his arms stretched out wide and crouched down low to mimic the small boy's height. I couldn't help but notice the matching grins they both wore.

“Help!” Teddy squealed as he flung himself into my awaiting arms, allowing me to wrap him up and settle him safely on my hip, using my frame as a shield to block him from Finn’s view.

"You can't hide from me Teds, I’ll always find you!" Finn taunted playfully, laughing merrily whilst he wiggled his fingers at Teddy, who was only just peeking out at him from over my shoulder.

Teddy squirmed in my grasp, giggling and screaming senselessly as he tried to dodge Finn’s oncoming hands that had since managed to softly graze his sides. I could only roll his eyes in fond exasperation, the pair never failing to brighten my day, and couldn't help but feel ever so grateful for whatever being had brought Finn into both mine and Teddy’s lives.

You see, Finn was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother, let alone a best friend. He’d been the family I’d never known I’d needed, a home away from home. And I knew that I could always count on him for just about anything and he had proved that the day I’d turned up on his doorstep in the pissing rain one Tuesday night, utterly terrified after having just found out that I was expecting.

“Alright, you lot!” I began, batting away one of Finn’s advancing hands as he made to grab at Teddy's tiny ankle. “We've got to get home in time for your bath and tea, and I think Finn here has to pick up Liv from work.”

I was directing my voice towards the toddler in my arms but also sent a knowing look Finn’s way, one which caused the man’s eyes to widen in immediate realisation. ‘Liv’ was actually the lovely Olivia, Finn’s newest fling– only she had managed to last quite a while longer than the rest, a new record for him really.

“Shit, yeah.” Finn muttered mostly to himself before he hurried on over to his desk in the far corner. I could only laugh quietly, Teddy joining in too when he noticed, and watched on as Finn hastily started to grab at an array of items, shoving them into his jean pockets. Phone. Wallet. Keys.

When he was finished, and somewhat out of breath, Finn spun back around towards us and shot an accusing brow our way, not too pleased about having been the source of our mirth. Teddy and I couldn't help ourselves then and laughed a little harder at his impervious expression.

But with that all done and over with, I simply pressed my nose against the side of Teddy's head and smiled contently into his curls whilst Finn merely rolled his eyes at the two of us, chuckling before he made a start for the door. I followed just behind him, Teddy's backpack slung low over my shoulder and a happy little boy nestled in my arms.

***

People lover @/user1 Imagine being a mediocre radio host and thinking you know the ins and outs of the music industry.. #CancelMouse

102 @/user2 Don't mind me, reckon I just found my new favourite radio show:)

Ugh! @/user3 Mouse sounded proper excited today but switched up so quick when that 75 bloke came up://

Soloveme @/user4 Hate to see people supporting toxic behaviour, sit down.

Milk @/user5 Don’t hate me, I'll forever be a matty girlie!! But @Mouseonamic I kinda agree??

Paris @/user6 Do you think he’s seen it yet? > Too_shy @/user7 Probably, it’s trending rn >> Drummepls @/user8 Hope he’s okay and doesn’t take it as a personal attack..

He should’ve known really.

He should’ve fucking known.

Even in his drunken state he should have known not to look at what they were all fucking saying about him. Slumped on the floor of his hotel room, propped up against the bathroom door, too exhausted to think about moving, let alone try.

He’d only heard a small snippet, caught the last of a conversation on it in a cab ride back from the club the band had found themselves in. But he had heard it, and he had listened.

"He's got the whole world falling at his feet." He fucking wished. "Changed." Too right. "A load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that- but now I'm not too sure." Laughable, man. "It's just a bit sad." The story of his fucking life. "Potential." When’s he never not disappointing someone? "Lacks passion." Passion lies in living, mate, and he hasn't felt alive in a very long time.

"Not what it used to be." Who he used to be.

He lit another cigarette from a crumpled pack he’d pulled from his back pocket and watched on as a curl of smoke unfurled in the air. He only wished he’d gone and brought something upstairs with him, or grabbed one of them little bottles from the minibar before he had decided he’d needed a piss. But if he closed his eyes hard enough he could imagine it all going dark, the world just fading around him, and the cigarette was suddenly enough.

Though, even then he still couldn’t quite muffle the loud, pitying laugh that escaped him as he continued to scroll through the mass of tweets that never faltered on his phone. They were like a freight train, unable to stop.

Matty wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Never had he ever felt so fucking lost. Desperate for everything to just pause for a simple second. To stop and just leave him alone for a bit. To have the world let him wallow in the dark dank pit he's hollowed out for himself.

But what a fucking life, hey?

Carelessly, Matty thumbed across the dimming screen, his intoxicated mind too focused on the task at hand to remember why exactly it was he was even sitting there on the cold bathroom floor. Something to do with Hann, he supposed, or George. Perhaps another heated encounter? Probably.

The sound of his phone's keyboard echoed off the surrounding walls and he breathed out a self-depreciating chuckle when he clicked send on the tweet he’d been attempting to curate, not caring enough for the consequences. Hardly even thinking, in truth.

He was far too gone to care anymore, already knew firsthand what the repercussions would be tomorrow. But at that moment, he just wanted honesty. To tell the truth, for once. To let them all know that he knew he was a shit excuse for a person.

What more could the world possibly say anyway?

Everyone around him was the same. He was simply just a puppet on a string. They’d make him sing and dance until the day he finally wrapped those wired strings tightly around his neck, and then all they'd be able to do is sit back and watch the show. And he'd enjoy every unabating second of it.

Matty @/trumanblack 10s ago Radio shows are sick man, gotta love them! And I sort of am sad haha. And I do lie? We all lie, I spose. But just listen to the radio, kids! Open your ears!

He laughed silently after, thoroughly amused with himself, and tossed the phone off somewhere off to the side so that he wouldn’t have to look at it again.

Bullshit. It was all just fucking bullshit.

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bibookdemon · 3 months ago

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Feeling a burnout approaching, gonna get some self-care going and then back to it!

The Hanahaki isn't gonna write itself!!!!

I'm just over 1000 words from my goal

At which point I will have met

Drum rolllllll pleaseeeee

30k!

[In-depth of the structure + spoilers below]

Original expected word count: 2-3,000

Current word count: 28,725

Expected word count: 50-75,000

Scenes I've already completed:

-LQG gay panic (idiot)

-LQG initial infection (Hanahaki)

-Symptoms showing up

-Various scenes going more in-depth with his symptoms

-Stages 1-2 complete, currently on Stage 3 of Hanahaki disease

-The big reveal that he has to die to save SQQ and future victims (he doesn't have to die tho...he just refuses to inflict this shit on the person he loves the most)

Scenes I have to initiate before timeskips:

-LQG not wanting SQQ anywhere near him to protect him (he doesn't want SQQ to find out about the Hanahaki and his crush because well, it's complicated. I'll attach some snippets below.)

-SQQ's pov of having LQG blow up at him and tell him they were never actually friends (or whatever lie he comes up with to hurt SQQ enough that he leaves and never comes back to visit)

Between time-skips:

-Stage four will initiate at least two days worth of in-depth description with timeskips in between and random blurbs here and there about how LQG is feeling

-Stage five will initiate a constant excruciating pain that he will remain coherent for the course of one day, after which he will become incoherent and a timeskip will be conducted

-Stage six will mostly be timeskipped with random blurbs in between, up to the point where LQG leaves for the woods to die

Timeskips will stop at this point because everything will happen very quickly over the next several scenes

-Switch to SQQ pov and have him go to the woods after somehow dragging the info out of the healer

-Near-death scene

-SQQ saving LQG (LQG pov)

-SQQ saving LQG (SQQ pov) + confession scene

-Switch back to LQG, initiate the confession scene

Extras:

-Glimpse into domestic life together(?)

-Visit to SQH to see if he wrote a cure for Hanahaki

-Proposal(?) (Would be absolutely adorable, potentially look into more Hanahaki aspects? - Marriage not included, I am NOT writing that shit)

-Potential papapa scene as A) separate chapter B) separate fic (most likely will not be included)

Snippy snips below!!!!

⚠️Snippets may contain graphic descriptions of pain, blood, vomiting, etc.⚠️

Italics scene: A dream caused by the Hanahaki

Editing this bastard is gonna be absolute hell LMAO

Also, I will break this up into chapters which will be posted weekly or twice-weekly (depending on how long each chapter is.)

In between each chapter I will work on my smaller projects + depending on how bad my burnout is after this (it's gonna be BADDDD) I will begin work on another large project.

Then again, hopefully I have a job by then so I might have less time to work on another large project XD

#fanfic #liushen #svsss #scum villain self saving system #wip #hanahaki #bi's wips

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ladytauria · 5 months ago

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i love all of the wip snippets that you've posted <3 and i'd like to know more about gen jason sexploration and sladejay gun fucking please 👀

hehehe thank you, i'm glad!!

so jason sexploration is supposed to be a series of moments where jason explores his personal relationship with sex & sexuality... aka, masturbates a lot, lmao.

the first scene takes place when he's 15. the second will take place during lost days, when he's around 17? 18? and then a third at 19, after the events of under the red hood. i haven't picked out ages for the other moments, lmao, and then i'm also contemplating a 'bonus' +1 scene where he has sex with another person... unsure if i will write that with a ship or with an OC tho, if i do it at all.

i think i've shared snippets of it in the past but i don't think i tagged them well, so i will share again!

Jason got his first ever erection almost a year after living in the manor. He’d been sparring with Bruce when it happened—humiliatingly, Bruce had warned him about it before they ever started training. Jason’s only consolation was that Bruce had been just as awkward about it as he was, and they’d silently agreed not to talk about it after.

Jason hadn’t forgotten about it, but… he’d been so sure it wouldn’t happen to him that when it did—

He’d burned with humiliation, and taken the coldest shower he’d ever had.

It’s been almost two years since. Jason still pops boners during training. On patrol. At school, even, like he doesn’t have enough problems. He wakes up with them. It’s—

He doesn’t like it, but—he’s gotten more comfortable with it, over the years. No longer as humiliating, now it’s more… annoying. He’s gotten better at getting rid of them without needing a cold shower, though it’s still the surest remedy.

Lately, though…

Lately Jason’s been curious about… about what it might feel like.

It’s… It’s not that he’s never wondered before, it’s just… everything else always eclipsed his curiosity.

Tonight is different.

Jason doesn’t know what about it is, but— It is.

He doesn’t patrol tonight. His homework is finished. He has both one of his favorite books and the next book in a series he’s reading on hand, just in case this goes badly and he needs a distraction.

He locks his door. It’s kinda weird. He hasn’t—he hasn’t bothered locking his door in… a while. But. He doesn’t want to be caught with his pants, literally, down.

Jason dawdles a few extra minutes, making sure he’s got everything he needs. Towel? Check. Lube? Check. He takes a breath. Holds it. Exhales.

Other people do this all the time. It’ll be fine.

He pulls off his clothes, leaving them neatly off to the side. He… his nakedness feels—almost wrong in the quiet room. He almost wishes he’d left his clothes on, but—bad enough the towel will end up soiled.

He lies back, cock already semi-hard. He drizzles the lube in his hand, almost flinching at the cool of it. He lets it warm to his body temperature before tipping it over, letting it pour onto his cock before he wraps his hand around the base.

It’s—

Weird.

Feels okay, though.

He’s— Jason can’t bring himself to look up videos, or anything. Doesn’t want the history, the evidence on his phone, not when everything about it feels shameful and wrong.

He knows it isn’t.

It’s normal. Healthy, even. Unfortunately all the scientific evidence in the world can’t make the feelings go away.

Jason goes slowly, alternating the pressure of his hand as he strokes, finding what he likes best. Unbidden, his eyes close. He pictures—no one, really. A body. Soft and feminine, hands a little calloused.

His hand speeds up.

Breasts, heavy and round and perfect, pressed against his back. Kisses pressed over his shoulder. A hand splayed flat over his belly, holding him close, holding him still.

“A-ah—“

sladejay gunfucking is a potential sequel for taking a bird in hand, which i actually wrote before i had even really started that fic, lmfao.

it is... more or less exactly what it sounds like, tbh.

“Are you really that desperate?” The sneer dripping from Slade’s words shouldn’t turn Jason on, but it does. “Can’t even wait till we get home for me to fuck you?”

The words hit Jason right in the chest, and he gasps, unsure whether to nod or shake his head.

Slade understands anyway. “Fine,” he growls. He bypasses the traps on Jason’s tac pants. It’s a move that normally wouldn’t be that hot—except he does it with one hand. Jason’s cock throbs. Slade jerks his pants down, yanking them over the swell of his ass, down to the thickest point of Jason’s thigh where they catch. Slade leaves them. He tears one of his gloves off with his teeth. Jason’s belly swoops. “Lube,” he demands.

Jason’s hand shakes as he pulls out one of the packets he keeps in his inner jacket pocket. Slade snatches it from him and tears it open with his teeth. Lube splatters onto Jason’s exposed thighs—he cries out at the chill of it. There’s just enough left to coat Slade’s fingers.

Slade doesn’t bother with any build up. He smears the lube over Jason’s hole, making him gasp—and then cry out as Slade shoves two in at once. He shoves his fist into his mouth to muffle himself.

There may be no activity in this area now, but the last thing he wants is for someone to come running and find the Red Hood being fucked by Deathstroke.

Or—

Fuck.

The way his cock throbs at the thought… maybe part of him does want that.

He can examine that later.

Slade ignores his prostate. He pumps his fingers hard and fast, scissoring them every couple of thrusts. Even with the lube there’s a slight burn. Jason relishes in it, his hips working, riding Slade’s fingers as best he can.

He whines into his fist when Slade pulls out the last time. The whine turns into a yelp when Slade smacks his thigh—the sound loud, seeming to echo in the quiet place. Then something presses against hole. It’s cold, blunt. He looks down, eyes wide, and finds Slade pressing a gun against his hole.

And not just any gun.

That’s Jason’s favorite.

He whimpers.

It’s not in protest.

He doesn’t know how Slade got it out of his holster without him noticing, but he doesn’t particularly care, either. The gun bears down harder. Jason’s rim gives to the force of it. He moans, tossing his head back. It hits the cold, hard rooftop, sending a dull pain through his skull. He hardly registers it; focusing instead on relaxing his muscles to accommodate the pistol barrel being slowly pushed inside of him.

Slade huffs a laugh. “Should’ve figured you’d like this,” he says, voice low and gravelly. “This is meant to be a punishment, Jason. Maybe I should have belted you first.”

Jason whines again.

Both of them know that wouldn’t have done any good, either. Slade has whipped Jason’s ass red and raw before fucking him hard before. All it accomplished was giving Jason a mind-blowing orgasm.

If Slade really wanted to make Jason think twice, he’d do what he did after that time—

Making him sit on a textured mat while writing lines. ‘I will call for back-up if I need it,’ is a phrase imprinted on his mind now.

His ass still throbs thinking about it.

“If—If this is a punishment,” he says breathlessly, “then remind me to—uhn, fuck—earn them more often.”

Slade snorts. “You misbehave enough already.” He rocks the pistol a little more firmly, and Jason clenches around the barrel.

#jaycest #not really??? but thats the closest tag #jason sexploration #sladejay #jayde #wip ask game #tauriawritesfanfic #tauriawritessmut #asks and answers #sasheneskywalker

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fieldsofred · 19 days ago

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hey i hope u know how much fun im having reading itaot... any time theres an update, or when you post a snippet, or when im just feeling like it and casually reread the whole thing, im like rolling around in bed (or kicking my feet, if at the office) having the time of my life. i visited my family for the holidays and forced my mom to listen to a whole ass retelling lmao. my boss thinks ive started seeing someone because shes been seeing me giggle secretively at my phone more than usual. all in all, 100/10, having the time of my life here.

also out of curiosity, can you share with us the inspiration behind the title? or is it something of a future plot spoiler?

Hey i hope you know that im giggling and kicking my feet and screaming

It took me forever to answer this because I have no words (which is rare for me, i usually have too many words).

I also have a secret relationship (the comments on itaot) that has me hiding my phone screen and smiling uncontrollably at work

1000/10. i adore you. i hope your mom liked your retelling <3

But genuinely, thank you for telling me this. I cannot explain how much light this brings to my day. This made my entire week. This makes me want to keep writing for the rest for the rest of my life. You have no idea the power you hold over me.

I hope you keep enjoying it as much as I am <3333

The title! I cannot explain how much i've been dreading that question. lol. okay,

short answer: its a lyric from harder to breathe by maroon 5. no deep meaning. no connection to the story.

long answer: Is There Anyone Out There? was never supposed to matter to me.

I've been writing fanfic and original stuff for an audience of one (me) for about a decade (im 23). I've never had the courage to post anything before but Ive always had the desire.

I started reading dc fanfic about six months ago and really fell in love with the fandom and the characters. I was a lurker. And then I read a jaytim fanfic with the most atrocious characterizations I have ever seen (in my personal opinion). I said 'jesus christ, i can do better than that' and started writing my own in like, idk, december i think. and then it started to occupy a little more brain space and writing time.

I remember genuinely thinking 'fuck it' when i decided to post the first several chapters at once. I didn't proof read them the way I should have and i didn't have a good solid story outline in place. I was just like, whatever. i'll give it a shot. I didn't think anyone was going to like it. Honestly, I didn't think anyone was going to even see it. I genuinely put itaot on the internet with the expectation of literally nothing happening.

ao3 said: your work must have a title.

I have a whole playlist called mom rock that was the music my mom would play in the car on the way to school or what have you. she loved maroon 5, specifically the songs about jane album. I don't love maroon 5, but I was listening to my mom rock playlist. and Harder To Breathe was playing.

Is there anyone out there,

Cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe

The rest of the song makes no sense and I hold no love for it. It means literally nothing to me. Just a song off of a cd my mom used to play in the truck.

But Tim, you might have noticed, feels his anxiety in his chest. Those feelings are my feelings. That sudden tightness, the weight, the suffocating in the middle of a hallway for no reason? That's all me babe

I was like, yeah, sure, that'll do. And named it is there anyone out there?

With hindsight, I might have named it something different. If I knew how much I would grow to love the story, how much it would matter to me, maybe I would have thought about the title a little bit longer.

I have miles and miles of google docs full of stories that matter to me. I have an original work that ive been working on since like 2018 that is my heart and soul in written form.

itaot wasn't supposed to matter. It was a chance to dip my toes into posting without any consequences because, who cares?

Me. I care. I care so deeply. I cannot emphasis the value that this fic holds in my life. The people that it's allowed me to interact with have been a blessing. The community that i've stumbled into is an honor to be apart of. Specifically, this ask is going to live with me for the rest of my life.

There's a phrase thats used in Ted Lasso: It's the hope that kills you

I have dreamt of being a real author my entire life. The whole time, its been a tiny thought in the back of my head, always paired with silly girl, that'll never happen!

And then I put a little fanfic that I wasn't emotionally attached to on the internet. And then I got emotionally attached to it. and then you said i'm having the time of my life and I know what that feels like to read something that makes me giggle and smile and roll around like that. that makes me feel

So now I have to live with the knowledge that the thing I accidently got so, so deeply attached to is named after a fucking maroon 5 song. and also has the power to kill me.

And now you get to know, too <3

#ask #itaot?

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tealeavesandtrash · 4 months ago

Text

✨Author Interview ✨

Thanks for the tag @magicbeings & @veganbutterchicken <3<3<3

total works: 16

total word count: 90.447

your top 5 stories by kudos/likes?

Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon

Of Book SHops and Floo Powder

Therein is Love, Therein Desire

stick of gum

I'm Not Dead Just Floating

do you respond to comments? I'm trying to! But i get very overwhelmed when people say nice things

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? From my Marauders fics it's a toss-up between So Long, London and Ship to Wreck, but I think some of my older TUA one-shots were way more angsty (I'm scared to re-read, I cant handle the angst and MCD like I used to but January Rain I think was the toughest to write)

what's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Probably Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon - can't write a Hallmark movie fic without a soppy ending

do you write crossovers? Yes in the sense of characters from X universe in Y universe's setting/plot, but not characters from X and Y universes interacting

have you ever received hate on a fic? nope

do you write smut? >:) yes

have you ever had a fic stolen? not as far as I'm aware??

have you ever had a fic translated? no but I have considered translating some myself (not to be posted anywhere, more as an exercise to push my own skill)

have you ever co-written a fic before? no but I would be very down to try it

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? lmao so many, every multichapter fic i try to write. but the big one is 'song for the summer' - I've posted snippets of it before but I've benn working on and off on it for about three-four years now

what are your writing strengths? Accidentally making things angsty >:)

what are your writing weaknesses? Probably just comparing my own work to other people's stuff and measuring the quality of my writing by the number of notes/kudos/comments

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? Yes!! More please!! You could never stop me trying to sprinkle in a little bit of welsh when I write Remus <3 <3

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? I tend to focus on fandom at a time, but I do have a couple of fics floating around my wip graveward for the Hunger Games and les mis that never went anywhere

what's your favourite fic you've written? Probably Book Shops and Floo Powder? I have a couple of fics that I also rank quite highly, but there's just something about Book Shop's little universe that's so special to me <3

no pressure tags: @marigold-hills @quiethauntings @goldenprophetwrites @diamondmeadow

#maddy talks #tag game

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pricegouge · 2 months ago

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Heeeeeyyyyy Gouge, what’s a fic/let/drabble/thought you’ve jotted down and wish you could/had the chance to elaborate on OR alternatively: taken another direction???

xoxo

Temp

P.S. Do you like me?

[ ] yes

hi temp!

first of all:

[ ] yes

[x] you have already been invited into mine and three's relationship.

but to answer your less important question:

cw: incest mention below the cut MDNI

really need to sit down and respond to sword anon's request for a follow up to this. especially because not long after, they dm'd me to tell me about a wurdulac, a russian vampire that must feast on its family which singlehandedly got me through january lmao. only problem being that I've been incapable of any coherent thought on the subject besides "hot."

also, months ago, my tooth anon sent in another papochka prompt which changed my brain chemistry, this time about donkeyskin. after watching the movie (seriously, go watch it if you haven't seen it yet. an absolute delight and a real case of "we used to make movies! 😤") I sat down and wrote nearly 3k in response, but could never quite seem to stick the landing. someday I'll figure out a good ending for it and post it but in the meantime, here's a snippet:

Branches and twigs cling to you as you run, snag on the fine weave of the prettiest dress you had dared to wear. It will be ruined by the end of your flight, plucked embroidery and popped seams. Funny, the times you miss the relative protection of your skin. Bravery was a tricky thing, came in fits and starts. When you'd first heard the king was traveling through town, you had shed your hide with ease, eagerly digging through your magicked trunk until you'd found a dress that would help you stand out among the commoners. But your resolve had begun to fail as you'd stood in the square, the specifics of your situation returning the longer you weathered the uncomprehending stares of the chambermaids around you. Had died off completely when you saw the unfamiliar flag heralding the wrong king, this new obstacle taking one look around the assembled lot before nodding at you absently, sending a meek young squire flailing after you. If you were never summoned by another king, it would be all too soon. A hawthorn sinks its claws in you, shreds the bare skin of your decolletage as you crash through the growth. It hurts, but to stop would hurt more - would land you in the arms of more squires. Worse, knights. Papa had warned you about knights, once. Back before -. Before. You don't need to lock the door of your hut after yourself but you do anyway. Cathartic. Punctuative, highlighting the protective wards already in place. Your fairy had been wrong about many things, but you could find no fault in the guards set in place to protect you - even if you'd never really needed them until right this moment. Phantom fingers climb your bodice, hook into the hem of your neckline. You shiver, a vain attempt to shake it off. It does no good, of course, the king's bony fingers still resting heavy on your chest. Even as you strip, bathe, ready yourself for bed you feel them, feel the imposition of his will. Papa had at least asked. For your hand, for your touch, for your love. You're no longer sure why you'd hesitated, why you couldn't see beyond the pain he'd caused - see the comfortable life he'd ensured you for what it was. "Did that hurt you?" Yes.

#gouge answers #incest cw #papochka #🦷 anon #🗡️ anon

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the-s1lly-corner · 1 year ago

Text

Shut In (Eyeless Jack x reader oneshot!)

Basic plot: its really cold outside, and you urge Jack to stay in your home with you... he decides to stay despite knowing full well that he will be fine out in the freezing temperatures. You both decide to do things to pass the time and stay warm! Turns out Jack can make a mean cup of hot coco, too

Extra notes: I dont usually write fanfics, and the last one I've written was a personal one from late August... so to say I'm rusty and underexperienced is an understatement! I feel this one ended up a little.. weirdly paced imo but I think I'm still happy with the end result! Dialogue I feel I could have done better on but I'm going to be nice to myself since I mostly write hc posts so this is way out of my comfort zone.. Drafted on Tumblr then sent through google docs to pick up on some mistakes I missed, briefly reread no proper proof reading imo... lets hope this isnt a train wreck + it copied back to tumblr okay!! LMAO

Brief joke about pregnancy/making a pregnancy but its like one small snippet but I know that can make people uncomfortable + implies at least one of the characters is AFAB

Word Count: 2915

Extra Admin's note: I want to say again that I am so so happy about this blog hitting 1k followers, when I first started this blog I was originally going to use it to burn time and have something to do on the side, as well as having a place to put out my cringe ideas and hcs. I never thought this many people would be interested in my dumb thoughts, but here we are! I intend to keep writing this year, and perhaps even make more non-celebratory one shots this year? Maybe? I don't know I guess we'll see the reception on this fic!

It was the middle of the night, around the middle of January. Your boyfriend and you were holed up inside your apartment, you having locked the man up with you after seeing that it was below freezing out, as well as raining. You had to practically beg your boyfriend to stay with you for the night.

Your boyfriend, who also just so happened to be a man eating demon with tar dripping out of his hollowed out eye sockets. Your boyfriend, who was currently sitting still and staring forward, the only sound in the apartment coming from the dripping of your faucet. You had asked him to come visit you, it'd been a while... and he would never ever let you go to his cabin when it's this cold out. So here you both were now.

You pat the palms of your hands on your knees, sucking in one of your cheeks and working the flesh through your jaws for a moment. You were both technically stuck in the apartment now; you didn't want Jack to go out and risk getting sick, and Jack more than likely wouldn't want you to step out for the same reasons. So, you were both confined to what you already had within the space. You were about to open your mouth to speak but Jack broke the silence first. "You're shivering, do you want me to get some blankets?", blunt and almost robotic. He was never that expressive. "Or would you like to go to your room?" He added after a brief pause, his fangs poking just over his lip before he readjusted his mouth. You were both in the living room, sitting together on the couch; the front door to your left and a view of the kitchen to the right. You thought for a minute as your eyes lingered on the kitchen for a moment. You'd already eaten, before your partner arrived... but..

"That's fine, I'm probably going to make some hot coco," You pulled yourself up, stretching up. "Powdered stuff ooor..?" Jack mimicked you. You only shook your head, earning a disapproving look from him. "What?" You questioned, but he only dismissed you. "Why don't you get some blankets, I'll handle it," and he turned on his heel to make his way to the kitchen. "Maybe put on a movie, too, your choice." He added as his voice carried off. "Are you saying I can't cook?" You called back, following after him. No answer as he tugged out a pot. "I'll have you know-" you started once more

"Do you have half and half?" He was already opening your pantry to grab things.

"No, I don't,"

"Heavy cream? Whipping cream? Whatever it's called..." He mumbled as he placed various ingredients on the counter. Cocoa powder, vanilla, salt and sugar. You only nodded, and as he was about to begin working he paused. "Do you want anything else in it? Cinnamon? Nutmeg?" He paused and through gritted teeth, "Coffee?"

It was almost midnight, of course he would be opposed to you having caffeine so late.

"Cinnamon is fine," You watched him get to work. He measured everything out; even mixing the heavy cream with some milk to make a substitute for half and half.... was that really all it was? You weren't sure what you expected it to be, if it weren't..

He pulled his head up and stared at you. It was then that you noticed he had actually taken his mask off and set it at the end of the counter and out of the way. The black ooze dripping from his eyes was slow and posed little threat to dripping into your drink. He had a fistful of napkins on standby to dap his face dry should the flow quicken. "Aren't you going to get the blankets?"

You pat your hands on your thighs, pausing... watching him. His body had a warm glow on him from the old light bulb in the ceiling; it flickered every now and then. Under the yellowed light he almost looked healthy and alive, though there was no glint where his eyes should have been. His sharp nail tapping on the counter brought you back to the moment, blinking a few times. "Yeah.." you mumbled, defeated at the chance of making a drink for yourself stolen from you. But was that so bad?

You backed out of the kitchen, dragging your feet across the floor. Your apartment was.. a little on the smaller side so within a few steps you were in front of your bedroom door. You didn't really pay much attention to your surroundings as you shuffled through the blankets on the bed.. eventually you settled on just grabbing an arm full and waddling back to the living room, dumping everything you had grabbed onto the couch.

The house smelled of cinnamon and chocolate.. with a hint of vanilla.

Turning your gaze to the tv, your eyes scanned across the DVDs you had stacked messily. Nothing sounded good. "Is there anything you want specifically?" You called out as you settled yourself down criss cross in front of the tv and pulling all the cases onto the floor next to you. "Movie wise," You added as you pulled the first case into your hands. The DVD collection for Child's Play.. you had gotten it a few weeks ago, finding it on sale at your local store. You still hadn't popped it in to watch..

"I have.. Chucky, uhm..." You shuffled for the next case. "All the movies by the way.. I have that and.. most of the Friday the 13th movies," You called out. No answer, the only sound coming from the kitchen was the noise of a whisk gently being stirred. "I don't have Jason goes to hell... But!" You pulled out a third case with the Nightmare on Elm Street DVDs. "I DO have Freddy vs Jason," You mumbled and spread the three disks on the floor in front of you. Most of the disks you had, you noticed, were mostly older slasher movies. Still, Jack hadn't answered you. You pull yourself to your feet and trudge back into the kitchen. His back was to you, too preoccupied with the stove... He hadn't noticed you, not yet. An idea blossomed in your head, a smirk pulling itself across your lips. You steeled yourself, trying to force yourself to stop shivering.. Jack was always paying attention to his surroundings, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

You take a step forward and he still doesn't notice your approach.

Another step.

And another.

Jack wasn't the tallest, in fact if you wanted to you could rest your chin on his shoulder... and that's what you ended up doing, while wrapping your arms around his thick waist. You could feel his body seize up just a little bit against you, before relaxing. "You didn't answer, what sounds good?" You pulled your eyes down to look at the pot. Your drink was nearly finished. You view rocked as your boyfriend shrugged, still silent but the twitching of his pointed ears let you know he was listening.

"Anything's fine," Another shrug as he cuts the heat. "You're the one cooking for me, you get to pick the movie," You insisted. He paused mid-whisk, letting out a soft huff. Suddenly he spun around, his face just a few inches from yours. In the dimmed light his eye sockets seemed deeper, it's black ooze lazily dripping down his cheeks. You noticed the smudges on his face, from wiping the streaks. You briefly wondered what it was like to sleep with them, but your thoughts were cut short as he pulled a blackened and clawed hand to your hair; tucking a lock behind your ear. "How does...." He paused, sucking in his teeth. He looked almost embarrassed. "Bride of Chucky sound?"

"What? Want to study the characters again so we can dress up again this year for Halloween?" You tease. You had convinced him a few months ago to dress up with you. With him as Chucky, and you as Tiffany... It had taken some begging and convincing but you ultimately got him to agree. Although you didn't go out to get candy, you were both fine with staying inside watching movies together in costume. It was also that night you got him to watch the movies..

His ears darkened, before he scoffed. "No... actually this year I was thinking of..." He took a long pause, visibly scraping his brain for names of characters, before seemingly giving up. "Look I don't watch many movies I don't know any.. characters.." He grimaced, before gently pushing you off of him so he could turn his attention back to the hot cocoa. "We've still got nine months, more than enough time to come up with something..." You shrugged, then smirked. "Not enough time to make a Glen... or Glenda," You teased before turning on your heel. You held back a snicker as you heard Jack splutter, finally processing what you had just said to him.

"W-"

"I'm gonna go ahead and put in the disc, I'll leave it paused for you," You cut him off, still grinning to yourself as you kneeled down to do as you had said.

Soon enough Jack walked into the room with a mug, as well as a platter of cookies. "You didn't have to," You mumbled as you eyed the treats, but he only waved you off as he placed the plate and mug onto the coffee table. "You don't have to eat them, but I figured you might want a snack while watching the movie," He mumbled. You took the mug, and swirled the drink inside of it. "I hope I didn't put in too much cinnamon," Jack added as he watched you. He leaned over and started the movie.

You took a sip, smiling a little as the warmness crept in. "You did good, probably the best hot cocoa I've ever had." You offered a grin to him. "That has got to be the fakest compliment I've ever heard," Jack shot back, though you could see the corners of his mouth turning up just slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry! I believe this is the most decadent and satisfying beverage I've had ever been graced with in my life, and-" You began, only for Jack to hush you. "I'd rather you throw it on me, don't... say words like that again," He grumbled as readjusted himself into the couch. You took a sip and shrugged, "It's just absolutely immaculate," and he lightly smacked you on the arm. "I'm never making anything for you again," He snorted, before turning his attention to the movie.

You weren't going to lie, you felt a little bad treating yourself to the cookies, knowing Jack was unable to eat them without upsetting his stomach. Being a man-eating monster must really be hard. You purse your lips, and shoot a look at him from the corner of your eye. He must have been doing the same, because he turned his head to look at you. "Do you want to do something else?" He asked lightly, his grin from a few minutes ago already faded. "Do you ever miss eating.. food?" You asked before you could stop yourself. He didn't bother pausing the movie, instead he just fell silent and stared down, into the space between the two of you on the couch.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up, I know it's a touchy subject for you," You mumbled and put the mug on the table. You sucked in the air between your teeth, flicking your eyes up to the movie, before bringing them back down to your lap. It stayed like that for a minute before Jack broke the silence. "I mean... yeah, I do. But at least I don't have to eat every day like you do, means I can have more time to do what I want," He said. Clearly, he was still bothered, tip-toeing around the big.. thing about him. The air was still tense and thick, all of the previous joking gone now. It was nearly unbearable. Nearly.

"You know," Jack began after a few more seconds of silence when you didn't reply. "I've never tried cinnamon in hot cocoa, I didn't know that was a thing people did," He was changing the subject. "You haven't?" You asked, raising a brow. He eyed your mug, but you both knew there was no way he was going to take a sip.

"It's really good," You mumbled, and took the drink, "The combo, I mean," You added. He hummed, patting his knees lightly. You swirled the drink again, watching the... what was it called? Those lighter swirls in the drink.. Did that have a name?

"You've had hot cocoa before, right?" You asked. He hummed again, nodding his head. "Well.. the cinnamon makes it warm. Taste wise.. It makes it.." You took a sip and thought for a minute. "Richer, I guess? It's hard to explain," You muttered, then looked back at him. You tore your eyes back down when you saw he was looking right at you, totally hooked onto your words. "I hear nutmeg goes good in it, too.. but I've only tried nutmeg and chocolate together in baked goods," You shrugged. "You did really good with this, you know... not too much cinnamon.. not spicy, at least." You smiled. He nodded, before turning back to the movie.

"Woody, I hear people describe cinnamon like that," He leaned back into the couch, a dull pop came from his back.

"Woody," You repeated, then took a large sip of the hot cocoa. You put the mug down onto the table, and leaned into your boyfriend as the warmth crept and settled into your bones. You weren't even paying attention to the movie, your mind was now occupied with how tired you were. Your eyes slipped up to the clock on the wall, It was nearly one in the morning. Had it only been an hour since Jack walked himself into the kitchen?

You lean deeper into Jack, not caring about his body's natural chill. His clothing still smelled a little like the cocoa from earlier.. "Gotta invest in some cologne, you smell nice like this," You mumbled into his arm. "The cinnamon?" He asked, not looking down at you. "No.. the cocoa, I mean cinnamon would be a nice touch... but you don't seem like a sweet smelling guy, do you?" You muttered. "Are you already getting tired?" Jack asked, and he leaned over you to grab the remote, pausing the movie. You muttered, the heat of the hot cocoa doing way more than you expected on the tiredness you didn't notice you had. "A little," You shrugged, "But we can still try to finish the movie," You offered, but he shook his head. Of course he would, as much of a hard ass or party pooper he came off as, he was going to make sure you were going to get your rest.

You put your hand in his, the one that had the remote.. you unpaused the movie. He paused it, and you unpaused it again. It kind of kept up like this before Jack conceited and kept it playing, although he did lower the volume.. The subtitles were already on, though. "I win," You smirked up at him, before crawling into his lap. You placed your head on his chest, pausing when you felt him stiffen before relaxing against you. His heart beat for a moment before settling to its barely there rhythm. For a minute you thought about asking about his heart, as far as you knew he explained himself like he was becoming a walking corpse... how does that work?

You decided against it, you already asked about him earlier.. and besides, your mind was already beginning to blank as Jack reached to the side of the couch, and turned the lamp off.. It was dark now. It was still raining, you could more clearly hear the drops outside now that the movie was turned down. Plus, Jack was running his fingers through your hair, lightly massaging your scalp. It wouldn't be long until you finally gave in and fell asleep.

"Are you going to still be here in the morning?" You asked, melting into his chest as he hummed in response. "Plan on it, I still need to clean up the kitchen," He added as he curled your hair around his hand. "It'll still be cold in the morning," He added, "I need to make sure you bundle up before you go out for work," He added. "I'm not that dumb," You muttered and lightly slapped his arm. You swear, if he still had his eyes he would have rolled them.

"How do you see? I know you're not.. a normal person, but," You blurted out, lifting your head. He pushed your face back down, shushing you. "Sleep," He ordered, before loosening his hold on you a bit so you could get comfortable. It wasn't an order but it may as well have been with how your body started to loosen into him within the next few minutes, quickly snuffling out your curiosity and questions.

He'd still be here in the morning, you could pester him then. After all, it's what he signed up for when the two of you started to date one another..

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack imagine #creepypasta fanfic #eyeless jack fanfic

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coraline-piange · 1 month ago

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5, 6, 19, 20, 27, 28 for the fic asks <3

babes why not send the whole list at this point lmaooooo

but i love yapping so i shall answer them all!

5. first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

"Edwin?" He calls, before smacking back an arm reaching for him.

6. the word that appears the most in your current draft

unsurprisingly it's edwin (150 times during 8.6k words) for give me a call if you ever get lonely, the second most often is 'been' which is probably due to the weird tenses lol.

my other wip (the big bang fic) has crystal the most often!

i also put in the morning after sequel because i was curious and it had the following keyword density: edwin (1129), edwin's (306), all (278), just (275) and like (247). this is super interesting because charles just doesn't appear on the list at all. idk what's going on there but something is definitely not working, because there's no way that in a 66k word fanfic where he is literally one of the main characters, his name does not appear at least roughly the same amount as 'edwin'

19. the most interesting topic you've researched for a fic

idk about most interesting but i've recently been researching ancient roman ghosts and the cultures and rites tied to them which has been really fun!

20. in what year did you publish your first fic?

oh god. hmm, lemme think. the first ones were all in german over on fanfiktion.de. i just looked it up and it was the 20th march 2015. which means i've been writing fics for pretty much exactly a decade woohoo!

27. your favourite part of the writing process

honestly? sharing snippets with you lmao. there's just something about your reactions that motivates me so much!

a close second is when i find that one perfect word or that one perfect sentence that makes a scene click into place. it's so satisfying!

28. your least favourite part of the writing process

is it cheating if i say the posting process on ao3? specifically the tags and definitely the summary? i never know what to put in there! very daunting

hehe thanks dean <3

ask me more from this ask game!

#ask game

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jackabbot · 1 year ago

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Wip Wednesday ☔️

Tagged and tagging @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley @exhuastedpigeon @nmcggg @disasterbuckdiaz @ladydorian05 @daffi-990 and my lovelies @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns mwuah mwuah💛💛

Guess what, guys? The first chapter of the mudslide fic is getting posted tomorrow! Which is just so unbelievable to me?? Despite posting 10 fics prior to this one, it was the first fic I started writing for this ship and I've been working on it (on and off) since september and now here we are... absolute bonkers if you ask me.

Now, I know there are like 4 people who are actually interested in this fic – and that's fine, honestly –, but I for one am very excited. So I thought I'd give you guys a longer snippet for today. I actually shared parts of this scene in like 3 different instalments from both of their povs lmao but this one is from chapter one so you'll get the full(ish) picture tomorrow.

“Eddie, a-are you sure you’re alright?” “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m just tired.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Eddie, if there’s something going on, you have to tell me.” “There’s nothing going on, I promise.” Buck raised his eyebrows challengingly and as it had so many times before, it made Eddie sigh in defeat. “It’s. It’s the weather.” He gave in with a heavy sigh and it didn’t quite stop Buck from frowning, but he had to admit, it made sense. It’s been raining for over two weeks now as a storm came to California and Buck would be lying if he said that it didn’t affect him in any way, but he was handling it. The only thing he didn’t account for was that maybe Eddie wasn’t. “Hey, it’s okay.” Buck stepped closer and for some reason Eddie was avoiding his gaze now, so he didn’t stop walking until they were standing toe to toe, the proximity forcing his eyes back onto Buck’s face. “Look. This?” He pulled the neckline of his shirt aside to show Eddie more of the scarring over his neck and chest. “This is a reminder that I pulled through.” He knew what kind of marks a lighting strike could leave on someone’s body, but he never really got to see his own. By the time he woke up from his coma, the patterns were gone — unlike the painful and itchy blisters that took over their place; they lasted for nearly two months and despite all the cold compresses and cooling gels, they still left a hefty amount of scar tissue behind, in the shape of abstract lines and ragged edges. Eddie reached out and traced some of the lines above his collarbone with his fingers and Buck couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter shut for a second with the softness of his touch. The pads of his fingers were warm as they brushed over the shiny silver lines and patches, yet Buck could still feel goosebumps build on his forearms and thighs with every microinch he covered. Suddenly, Eddie’s fingers were gone, pulled away abruptly, almost as if they got burned by the contact, leaving his hand to float in the air between them aimlessly. “Sorry.” Eddie whispered and they were just so close. All the what ifs have started to murmur in the back of Buck’s skull with renewed vigor, buzzing like radio static behind his eyes, begging to be turned up for clarity. “Eddie I—” “It’s okay, Buck.” He flattened his palm over Buck’s heart, only the thin layer of his shirt separating them now. “Thank you, for this.” Eddie patted his chest and stepped back, leaving Buck dumbfounded as to what exactly just happened.

#I know that we're all off the wall insane about that 25 seconds we got today #but I'm just so very excited that this fic is actually getting posted?? after all these months?? god...#I'll be right back staring at buck's raccoon eyes though don't worry #that boy had something literally blow up in his face hands down you can't convince me otherwise #anyway who let me include so many characters?? filling out the tags for ao3 will put me into the ground for real #also I spent 20mins twinkling with my mudslide playlist today instead of editing just because... 😭#anyway new fic tomorrow 🫡#buddie #911 #wip #the mudslide fic

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azures-grace · 2 months ago

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Wowwie my AU for Morrowind is 2 years old now!

In honor of that, I'll be posting some of the ORIGNIAL art from 2023 and also some WIPs that I never got around to finish oR am currently working on!

waaay back in Ye Olden Days of 2023, I came up with this AU like. On a whim. On a silly billy whim like "lmao Alexi x Dagoth Ur maybe idk"

I also made this really dumb comic cause Alexi follows the Green Pact

and This!

and then after that i basically forgot the AU existed UNTIL about mid March in 2024, with this sketch file

and then began my great turnaround with this AU, because INITIALLY it was just meant to be Alexi and maybe Armina, but after this, it turned into Armina's AU.

There was a second sketch page

The beginnings of one drawing (never finished)

The start of a family portrait (also never finished)

and then I started building the storyline around how the 6th House cult was affecting Armina, Tera, and Tel, AND how she'd sell her soul to Clavicus Vile to kill Dagoth Ur

there was also an attempt at a traditional painting of Teldryn, but it didn't get very far.

In more recent months, I decided that instead of Schrodinger's divorce, Alexi and Dagoth Ur actually DID kinda get together in an awful horrible way, much akin to how the AU all started! This is when Armina's nose changed shape to match Voryn's (before he broke it and it got crooked)

The most recent projects I'm working on for this AU is an animatic/animation maybe and another portrait of Armina

I also had a brief spinoff idea based on The Plagues from the Prince of Egypt, and it centers around the idea that Armina never figured it out and escaped the cult, rather, she stayed and rose to the rank of Housefather, taking on the name Dagoth Agna (or technically Anga after the Ayliedoon word for cold as associated with metal), and having some kind of joint leadership with her father, while her sister attempts to get her to see the lie she's living or smth, idk. there's one doodle for that and here's a snippet

Additionally, there's a little bit of writing, and it's. kinda old.

My name is Armina.

I know everyone calls me Dagoth Armin, but my real name is Armina. No one calls me Armina aside from my mother, Alexi, and my sister, Terastelle. And sometimes my uncles.

I look pretty different from most of my family. They're all grey and I'm kind of brown-ish. Even Tera is grey, but she's got different ears and hair from my uncles.

I look sort of like my mother, but she's very pale, and sort of pink. Her hair is almost as white as Tera’s, and a lot lighter than mine. It's also smoother than mine.

My hair is sort of yellow, and sort of curly, but not as curly as Tera’s. She has blue red eyes, and I have green dark eyes. My mother has eyes, too. They're blue-ish, but I get uncomfortable if I look at them for too long.

I think my dad has red dark eyes. He's grey too, like Tera and my uncles, but not the same grey as Tera. I don't look at him very often. I spend most of my time with my mother and Tera, but it's always interesting when I see him.

I have seven uncles. And a lot of extended family, but I don't know if they're related to me or just a part of the Family. I don't think it really matters, we're all family anyway.

My mother brings these weird metal things with her everywhere. Usually when I see my dad, he's asking for them. I've started seeing him more often, though.

Like now! He walks into the room where me and Tera are sitting. She's playing with a fire spell. Little flames dance around her fingertips. Her white hair is long and coily. My dad's is dark blueish black, and it sits longer than hers, but it's smooth. The last time me and Tera pulled one of her curls taught, it was really long, almost to her knees. His falls somewhere around the middle to bottom of his back.

He has his face showing today. His eyes are red dark eyes. His nose is sort of crooked. He's very tall, much taller than my mother. He comes and stands next to me and Tera.

“What are you two doing?” he asks.

Tera looks up at him and grins. “I learned a new spell!” she says.

He nods. “Splendid.” I don't know what that word means, but he sounds happy.

“I picked up a big sword today,” I tell him. “One of the heavy ones, but not the really big ones.”

He gives me a long look, but I don't think he's mad. He nods slowly. “Interesting…”

I want to show him, so I get up and grab his hand and drag him to where the swords are. He follows me, hunched over to hold my hand. Once we get to the room, I run over to the big swords and grab one by the handle and the cover. I heave it up off the rack and carefully try to balance it while only holding the handle.

He watches me quietly, leaning against the wall. “Are you sure it's not too big for you to pick up?” he asks, making a motion with his hand to the sword.

“I've got it!” I tell him, holding it up a little. Then, I drop it, because I don't actually have it.

Tera comes in at the noise and stares at me for a while. “Wow, Armina, you picked that whole sword up,” she says.

I nod and run over to her. “Can you pick it up with magic?” I ask. Tera’s the best magical person I know. She's done more spells than anyone else. She's better than our mother, and probably better than my uncles and dad.

Tera grins and puts her hand out towards the sword. Her face scrunches up and she grunts, trying to lift the sword. It wobbles a little from side to side, but doesn't do much more than that. She relaxes and huffs. “Wow, Armina, you've gotta be really strong,” she says, looking over at me and wiping her forehead sweat away with her sleeve.

Tera wears thicker robes than me, because she could enchant hers with some kind of cold spell. I asked my mother how she did it, but she seemed to be more worried about some kind of gem. I don't know why, though.

Happy birthday,you awful terrible traumatic AU, i love you so much and what a journey it's been so far!

#azure made a post #azure arted #azure animated #azure writed #the holy trinity...#6th House AU #elder scrolls #i love this thing oh man

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