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yveaart · 4 months

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how to lose a guy in 10 days — csc

choi seungcheol x reader

genre : fluff, smut, enemies to lovers, jealousy (?), fake relationship, bets (yk how the movie goes), profanities

synopsis : you had to prove to your friends that you could easily make a guy lose interest within a week, having no interest in indulging yourself in a relationship after your past ones. all those relationships led you to narrow down a list on how to make a guy sick of you. you had all the card in your hands and seems like you don’t get to play it.

warnings : mdni, proceed with causion bc this is my first actual svt fic it might be shitty. not proofread lol, reminder that this is my take on the plot and it will not flow the exact same plots in the movie

i do not feel so confident about this bc i wrote this with mind in shambles. literally me comforting myself with svt while i'm dying from my studies rn :') pls tell me if you like it bc i would most def appreciate it <3

it was another slow day at work when you sat down at your desk and sighed. all your work mates and friends seems to confide in your reaction but your circle knew that this sigh wasn’t a “damn-im-so-stressed-and-sick-of-work-sigh” for them it was more of a “wow-life-is-hectic-its-almost-making-me-want-a-man”

and just like clockwork their brains clicked and hovered over your cubicle. poor u so startled that you almost gagged on your coffee.

“what?” you shooted

“are we gonna meet boyfriend number 13?” karina said in a sing song voice

“more like fling number 17?” sakura retorted

“maybe a first situationship since she haven’t experienced one yet” yunjin said curiously

“jesus christ i’ve had that much men and i’m not gay yet?” you said surprised

“maybe you just need a new set up?” yunjin asked

“like what doggy style?” karina questioned

“not like that you idiot” sakura glared

“maybe i’m just meant to end up in a church and dedicate my life to holiness” you huffed

“please you would burn the moment you step in a cathedral” sakura laughed

“well i just know how every relationships end, it’s almost like completing all endings for a video game, its predictable and cliche” you sighed

“let’s welcome fling number 17 then” karina announced

“i’m too tired for just fucks you know? it won’t take long before i actually get infection and i turn into a zombie and bite you all from all these stupid ideas” you rolled your eyes at your friends.

right now you just actually need to see if theres a guy out there in the world who could actually commit and actually accept a persons flaws out of love.

all too cheesy but you would like to find a partner who would find no flaws in you and probably just call them your little unique antiques that they can live with.

you were so sick on seeing tutorials or manifestation hacks on the internet because does anyone genuinely love each other anymore? all these “how to become a maneater”, “how to make them dream of you”, “how to make him fall in love using a potion” bullshit got you sick of people now.

why did god even create men to accompany themselves if they’re preferences and expectations are for the deities taste themselves.

“OH MY GOD I GOT IT!” yunjin screamed making all your peers look over to your area

“what is it?” you asked dying for a solution

“what if you meet a guy and just unfling him?” she said as if there was a light bulb above her head

“yall need to make her stop doing overtime” sakura deadpanned

“NOO, like you’re talking all these commitment things all the time then what if you find a random guy and make him not fall in love with you and see if he stays?” she said

“so like i should go out being an annoying red flag and see if he stays?” you giggle but it all went away when all your friends kind of agreed because they’re also sick of u having these guy problems already.

“i guess thats not all bad” karina suggests

“you should wear your best outfit tonight because we will find your lucky target then y/nnie” sakura winked at you before discussing the plans with yunjin and karina

it was not long until the night came as you got ready, you scoffed on how stupid this bet is because it’s like you claimed “very predictable and cliche” to lose a guy.

it was then your friends picked you up and pulled up to the bar. a few shots came by as you hustled through the crowd searching for your so called the one. but as you surf through the tables everyone fell short to your friends standards as if it was a big serious thing.

you grew tired, what was the point, you knew your fate then you should probably accept it now.

you drank your last shot for tonight planning your weekend with whole lots of tubs of ice cream until you flinched by karina grabbing your arm.

“him” she said, audible enough for the three of you to hear. you faced the guy she was referring to as all the noice fade into the background blur hearing yunjin screech and them clapping happily, your time froze.

the most goddamn, drop dead gorgeous man came to sight.

“isn’t that choi seungcheol?” sakura stating a rhetorical question

“they said no one could ever bag him up” yunjin replied

“ooh sounds like one of y/n’s guys” karina giggled.

“are you up for it then?” sakura challenged you

“please this will probably come by a breeze, so? 100 bucks each?” you winked as the three of them agrees after a total chaos.

“choi seungcheol, let the games begin” you muttered

on the other side of the bar there was a crowded group of 13 people who were mindlessly taking shot over shot as they were crowned as the most obnoxiously loud people for the night.

most of them spitting out tipsy thoughts to one another as they joined forces on pinning and choosing choi seungcheol as the victim for tonight.

“here comes the virgin joseph for tonight, choi seungcheol!” dk hooted while hoshi was giggling to any phrases the latter would make out

“isn’t it mary though?” joshua pondered drunkly on the edge of the couch munching on the nuts hoping it would make him sober as it was too early to go home.

“whatever, we still get the point. so what’s with the anti-women behavior cheol?” jeonghan grinned. his smile too wide to seem oblivious of the answer.

“i think dating is now deemed predictable to me,every woman i dated either wants my money, my body, fame, or a father figure” cheol sighed deeply

“wait you’re a dad?” dino’s brows furrowed in deep confusion as cheol stood there with utter disbelief

“i thought we we’re supposed to have a fun hangout today, and now all of you are just looking like alcoholics with all these bottles in our table” seungcheol complained

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING ALCOHOLICS?!” mingyu exclaimed looking at the opposite direction of where cheol was.

“FUCKER I DIDNT CALL YOU ANYTHING” minghao retorted to a confused mingyu facing him causing cheol to place a palm over his forehead.

“how about you start charming women for who you truly are?” vernon continuing the passed topic.

cheol didnt know if he was thankful for vernon re entering a topic, all the “seemingly” sober people joined up on the topic. they soon somehow convinced cheol to meet new people and try making them fall in love with him.

kkuma needed a mom, maybe he did too (but not in a maternal sense

“i doubt scoups can make a girl fall in love with him” dino giggled in the verge of passing out.

“i sure can ! it’s like a walk in the park” seungcheol defended.

“not even within a month” jeonghan added

“not even a week” jun stared blankly.

seungcheol always had placed his pride on a pedestal, it’s the source of his cocky behavior.

“oh please, give me 10 days it would be like she’s under a love spell” cheol snickered blanketing his bruised ego.

“deal, i bet 20 that we’ll have another meeting on the 10th day having cheol drop dead drunk at thus exact spot” jeonghan screamed only standing for the first time for the night.

it was chaos after that, but the group was almost divided equally in the process of them making bets and weighing the odds of cheol’s fate.

seungcheol wished the ground opened its jaws and buried him six feet under

even he was lying to himself with his statement, but one thing about choi seungcheol— he always wins.

“i’m gonna head home now” cheol said, he wish he didn’t.

he somehow wished that they were all too drunk to force him into the grave he dug himself. mercy will be the end of their bond, so as fate has written cheol’s fortune.

“i guess cheol is accepting his pussy title” jeonghan sighed

“i am not a pussy” cheol responded

“then i guess you’ll have to prove that” joshua sighed blankly at him

“let’s start by choosing the lucky girl who’s gonna take cheol’s v card”

“i’m not even a virgin” cheol rebutted with a frown, the liquor making him submit to his true emotions.

“please you barely lost it” dk laughed

“well i barely felt it….” cheol muttered

“let’s do her” dino pointed at the wall as he stood quickly stumbling with his head spinning

“who’s he pointing at? did he shave his eyes as well?” woozi said laughing

“shut up pink panty guy, i’m talking about the girl that has red hair and wearing a black dress” dino said laying on the floor

“ooh, she looks hot like seungcheol’s type” jun teased

if he didn’t spot your bright auburn hair he would’ve sworn to himself that these guys we’re just throwing a hate crime at him, but god, you we’re his type.

“go on mr. choi, show us your charm” mingyu pushing cheol closer to your area in the bar

you were planning on stepping up, but you had to make one thing sure, so you turned around to your friends with burgundy rushing through your cheeks with the thrill throwing you into your pit of endless thoughts.

“makeup, and outfit : perfect” yunjin started with a wide grin

“hair : gorgeous and can easily make a ponytail” karina winked as you glared at her

“teeth clean and ready for sucking” sakura smiled

jesus christ you were asking for a reality check and they just simply can’t avoid adding scandalous statements as if that’s all you do.

you were ready

were?

are?

was?

fuck.

you backed up quickly as you saw a guy charging at your direction ready to barf up on you.

quick arms catches your moving physique, as your back became dependent on the person unbeknownst to you.

two groups filled your senses with squeals, laughing and cheering waking you up from your not so cute dilemma

you turned to the person behind you seeing the man of the night

choi seungcheol.

“you okay, sweetheart?” his voiced hush, you felt warm and you swore that is was just the buzz from the liquor

quickly you went to work

“omg thankyou o-oppa” you’re voice cracked because you simply cannot believe the words that escaped your lips.

there was terror in his eyes, the moment you saw it, it went away. a pretty grin was graced upon your lips because this will be one hell of a ride

he better be sure to keep his seatbelts on because you’re gonna totally rock his world.

day 1 : the tortoise and the hare

spoiler, the hare never wins

guys hate being speedy, if they’re looking for a woman they can take home to his mom it would definitely not be the woman who wants to be dicked down after the first date.

and this wasn’t even a date

he took you to his place after your so called friends left the both of you in the landmine

he only intended you to sober up, and you only wanted him to curse you off his life. but it would be no fun if you just did it in a day, wouldn’t it?

the sound of the collision of class and marble led to both of your eyes to be met.

“thank you, really, or what else i would’ve smelled like vodka and whatever the fuck that person just ate” you sighed in relief genuinely

“no worries, you don’t smell like barf or vodka…. maybe a little of tequila but you’re good” he smiled

fuck. he’s hot and he knows it, a part of you wished that he was some sort of narcissist so you could do this thing in a easier way.

his face sculpted and graced with beauty his eyes filled with wisdom and maturity, his lips full and shaded like cherries.

you we’re definitely down to have a fling with him, but according to you, you were planning to change your ways and test the purpose and ability of men.

“mhm, i’m tired let’s watch a movie?” you smiled with your forced high-pitched voice

you love how he would hide the way his face would wince when you talk or the way his jaw slacked on your statement.

you smiled at the thought of him trying to take you out of his multi-million mansion because you were pushing boundaries he built for you

“yeah.. sure, what do you wanna watch?” he assisted you by the waist as he brought you up the stairs.

you wanted to get out, you wouldn’t think that it would go like this. fuck the boys manual maybe it doesn’t work with hot rich guys

“the notebook, i LOVE that movie” you smiled and you could see how he expected that

as you laid in his sheets, which you felt deeply sorry for actually staining his pearly and silky shits with your outside clothes, but your pride held you high. if you fell from your pride or for him then maybe then you could wash his sheets.

the room was dimly lit, the ambience warm as he intended.

he sat next to you, with distance for respect according to cheol’s brain.

you couldn’t predict him, and maybe he sends mix signals, and that made you feel less guilty because you concluded that he’s a womanizer. he knew all of these antics a little too well.

“it’s getting hot” you sighed fanning your face adjusting your dress to the right extent, you held your hair exposing your neck to him making sure he saw it.

"really? my ac is so low right now" he was surely acting oblivious.

you may be frustrated at him for not taking your hits but you guess it would make a good build up, meanwhile he was there dumbfounded from all the tricks you pulled, he was slowly getting hard but that's another story.

he was thinking if he should drop it, it seemed like you just wanted a one night stand, but speaking of the devil (angel) jeonghan sent him a text showing him how much money he would be getting if he proved them wrong.

somehow in the end all of his friends were convinced that he would stay bitchless. there was a whole chapter within their groupchat making fun of what he said earlier at the bar.

truth be told, he didn't give a fuck about the money, he wanted his dignity and pride back.

"my body is so warm because of all the shots i took though" you reasoned out quickly.

"well my body is really cool right now" he faced you slowly pulling you close but you had other plans

you quickly kissed him as if you were desperate for it.

"mmm- i think we should slow down y/n" he rushed to tell you.

you wanted to grin so bad, victory laid on your side, but you had to put a sad face asking him if he no longer likes you repeatedly as he escorted you out of his house.

you quickly twirled and skipped across the road when you were sure he was inside already. he was there though, watching through his window.

maybe he had to step up.

day 2 : the in-laws

there was not a single text on cheols phone the next morning, soon learning your phone was inside the purse you left at his house.

he wanted to scan your purse thinking of a way to sweep you off your feet today. but a gentleman doesn't mess with a ladies purse.

after the the long chat you had last night, you exchanged your details to each other which now led cheol to your apartment building with flowers and a wide smile.

"hi i got these for you-"

"wait cheollie, say hi to your mom !" you cut him off with a smile

his face quickly shifting, you what?! he was slowly shaking on the inside quickly settling down your purse, flowers on your coffee table.

"h-hi mommm" he grinned as if his mom could see him.

"seungcheol i didn't raise you to hide your partners from me like this, i really like y/n you know, so when's the wedding?" his mom ushered

"a wedding?" you gasped and started screeching as if it was real

"we'll see mom haha.." he replied deranged from the situation made just 2 minutes ago. he quickly hung up before his mom could get any more ideas.

"well that was interesting, i didn't know that you knew my mom" he restrained himself from losing himself.

"well i have to meet your parents anyways right, cheollie?" you smiled at him

"yeah, but we just met yesterday" he deadpanned

"well, you don't think we're gonna work out" you started sobbing in front of him making small obnoxious hiccups

"well that's not what i meant baby" he hushed and spent the afternoon babying you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

day 3 : monday flings

"i seriously cannot fathom how much patience he has to reach day 3" you genuinely lay your opinion

"i was a complete total psycho, but he must be mental" you said to yourself

"that's fucking crazy because if i had to put up with that you would never hear from me again" sakura said bluntly which bruised and praised you at the same time

"i need a break from my alter ego as well, i hope he has no plans on asking me on anything anymore at least"

the day went as if you had never met choi seungcheol at all, which made you relieved for at least having a rest day, sure it was such a short time but god how tiring it was to be somebody else

"i just really realized how to fit in somebody else's shoes" you sighed as you and your friends exited the building together ready to go home and simply pass out.

"then don't fucking wear them" karina said

"but this is the whole point, being a stereotypical woman in a relationship"

you all soon parted in your own ways as you walked through the neighborhood near yours, you realized you just walked passed by seungcheol's house and this made you walk a bit faster and try to fabricate your distinguishable looks. but guess what

"aw baby don't hide from me" he coos slowly pulling you in his embrace.

"i was just looking for you" he smiled as he rushed you into his home

you somehow wished he could just stab you right now.

he led you to his living room filled with rose petals and candles dedicating a whole playlist of his vinyl records for you. you spent the evening sharing his home cooked dinner, which was actually delicious. and he soon brought out his photo albums from when he was a kid.

"do you think our children look just like you?' your sentence made you freak out but you supressed it wanting him to be affected by your vicious visions.

"how about we go back about the marriage thing for now" he faked out a laugh.

"i want this to be our family's house too" you sighed in content while scanning the architectural structure.

"if that's what you want" he smiled and pecked your forehead, which had caught you by a surprise.

"it is" you smiled, you didn't want to admit it but something formed within you when he said that.

"i'll be having a boys night tomorrow so i might not respond quickly to your texts"

"is it strictly 'boys only' ?" you asked forming an idea and swallowing these funny feelings that have bloomed within you.

"well it had always been"

day 4 : poker night

if fate was inevitable, they should you hit you up then.

you were in a cab with your hands filled with cheol's place in mind.

"cheol having a 4 day record is worth celebrating" jeonghan teased

"it's been that long?" mingyu asked actually impressed

"i've been in a lot of relationships since college, stop making it seem like im a loser" he sighed

"probably just in college" minghao retorted

"it's probably going well, maybe next year she could meet his parents" seungkwan noted

"please, she met them the second day we met" cheol answered scoffing at the thought

"now i know why girls are driven away from you" jun cringed at cheol

"she called them herself the day we met, she even said that our children will live here, and she tried to sleep with me the first day we met !" cheol finally shared his experience the past few days

"ooh feisty and a woman with a plan, that's so horanghae coded" hoshi smiled reaching his palms out and curling the ends of her fingers.

"you're going delusional again hamster" minghao smacked the back of hoshi's head causing the latter to relieve it by rubbing his head.

"maybe cheol could get laid now with her bold behavior, someone who can tame mr. pride-over-pants-down-choi-seungcheol over here" joshua said

"she's just a bet-"

the violent reactions that flashed through the faces of his group-mainly cheol when you came in the door in the middle of the game.

the guys quickly recovered teasing cheol for being so attached already calling her over for a boys night.

"hi guys!!" you said excitingly trying on your best cute expression you could muster up while hoshi replied to you with the horanghae pose as you quickly reciprocated it.

"i just thought i could put some of my stuff here so you could always remember me cheollie" your eyes twitching the moment your face was parallel with the wall

cheol was in awe with the first few vases you put out, until there were at lest 13 in his living room only. his house looking like he was out there selling urns

you were going around his place disrupting them, even changing their ambient music into some of britney spear's playlist

and even making very concerning screams around the kitchen just behind the living room.

"cheollie, can you get me some water" you whined when you heard them telling cheol it was his turn

he caught you reaching out unto the cupboards for a glass, he quickly got you what you requested and leaving you there

you were quick to grab onto his arm and grab the cigarette out of his mouth.

"you need to stop smoking" you tell him genuinely, his demeanor sensing your honesty his brows rested as he gave you a smile.

"i need to keep my lungs healthy for our children huh?" he teased you with a knowing smile

day 5 : ghosting

after his game with the boys, you two spent so much time together after.

he was being sulky after receiving his first losing game last night from all your disruptions last night.

but he never mentioned you being a nuisance, and just maybe because it was stored somewhere deep his chest the frustrations he held

but you stayed clingy to him filling him up with your presence even when you already went home flooding his texts until it was dawn

today you decided to stay low, you were lying in wait in this part of the plan

by doing so much the past few days today you decided to give ghosting a shot

"god i just wanna die if i need to go through this just to find a decent human being" you sighed frustrated at yourself

you wish you could stop now, there was 150 bucks on the line

or this is what you thought that hindered from you from stopping, you stared longingly on your laptop

quickly dialing his number you grinned at the sound of his voice

day 6 : a large iced diet coke and a kiss to go

today you planned on watching a knicks game with cheol, it was both your favorite thing to watch.

the stadium filled with cheers as you were shaking with thrill watching the tight game among your favorite team handling each other by the neck

most of the game went well according to cheol

during the break the venue managers continued to do the kiss cam.

you were interested looking at random people sharing affection through this stupid camera. but you didn't know it would face you.

you saw your face light up with surprise as the other guy next to you exposed on the kiss cam

you were looking at him

"i'm-" the guy was cut off when seungcheol grabbed you by the nape sealing your lips with his plush ones, the camera then panning to the both of you instead of you and the other guy.

"you weren't in the kiss cam" you said smiling- wait no don't.

"well i was just now" he said cockily

"i'm not gonna let you kiss him when i'm here" he said and that lit a fire within you

the final part of the game resumed as you both were cheering wildly through the crowds

it was time.

you asked cheol to bring you coke since you were extremely famished according to your words.

cheol quickly glanced at you, the bottom of the stadium, on the scoreboard, and back to your eyes.

he quickly ran getting you the drink that you wanted.

"i cant drink too much sugar though i need the diet one" his face turning into a distressed one jogging back up the long steep flights of stairs as he huffed to the vendor that you wanted the coke one, being only available to watch the game through the small monitor by the ceiling

there was about 3 minutes left, your team still having time to win over

he rushed back to you quickly handing you your coke, but there was another thing-

"i need ice cheollie" you whined at him, he groaned but still went over to do it

only a few moments left before the game ends the vendor still working on you precious drink, seungcheol staring at the monitor.

you felt bad, like actually. but you had to keep this up

you were enjoying the game until you were drowned in your thoughts on how you were ever gonna ask for his forgiveness after all this

you were a bitch and get over your act.

the crowd calling out through your ears realizing your favored team won, you had to force a smile especially a lovely one at cheol to make him think you were being a menace

maybe if you pushed him enough you could end this sooner, you can't admit that he was charming, handsome, and his behavior is no less than how a gentleman should act.

sorry coups.

the game ended, you were exiting the venue with cheol as his arm around your shoulder quickly calling you a cab home.

"thank you for this babe" you smiled passing him the cup, hoping you were rude enough for him to not call you up anymore

"no problem, you gave me your other ticket to watch with you anyway" he smiled pecking you before you left.

he crumpled the cup and threw it away.

day 7 : the revelation

you and cheol spent this day with a quick breakfast by the small cafe nearby, chatting through the busy streets of your city, he asked you to come to his event tomorrow which you accepted. after breakfast there were barely any interactions coming between the two of you.

why stay through this conditions?

well we bring you to the day 1

you were troubled writing your new article on the magazine company you were working for.

your boss expecting so much from you, you simply cannot write anything too political or anything controversial at all, so you stuck on to writing these stupid "how to" to articles which was a huge success for your company.

you were stuck, nothing to write, drafts filled with calling out peace for all countries experiencing genocide and territorial invasions or calling out to politicians who were legitimately caught only on scandalous events but never the seat of any meetings.

you were a writer a "how to girl", you swore you did it all and wrote them, how to talk your way out of a ticket, how to feng shui your apartment and even having those little tests you wrote printed by the magazine.

seungcheol was a lawyer, he stayed in his grandfathers law firm, his grandfather desperate for him to get wed and have a family who will take care of the firm and would take care of him as well.

seungcheol's grandfather knew his luck in love, so he prayed that even when he passes, his grandson will still have someone to be with.

day 8 : pride over love

cheol came over to your place at dusk seeing you with your flattering yellow dress with a backless cut on the back.

he was stunned by your beauty, his hand leading to his chest.

"my god" he whispered to himself as he paced closer to you

"you're gorgeous" he smiled as he kissed your temple

"you don't look to bad yourself" you grinned at him

you decided to stay in your apartment for a while as you settled a few of your stuff before you leave

he glanced over your record player and fidget over your albums then he finally sat down digesting the whole essence of your place, it was hard for him to stay still thinking that you were some dumb bet but he knew you were more than that, he knew you we're attractive but the breeze tonight was only revealing your true selves to each other.

you came in the room with your purse settling it by the coffee table as your favorite song came by, you couldn't help but singing along to it

and other girls dreamed that they'd be cheol's partner

they'd be cheol's partner and

you're so vain

you probably think this song is about you

and then you both exploded in to giggles proceeding to do silly dances before heading out.

you both arrive at an immaculately decorated building, you could already hear all the people chattering inside the building making a light buzz on your ears

"cheol, you should come meet our new stockholder" his coworker ushered him as he looked at you with slight worry

"i'll be fine you should go" you pushed him lightly and he just nodded at you making a phone call sign telling u to call him if anything happens

it was a while when you were just sitting by the bar drinking your nth drink for the night, it wasn't your intention to do so, but that was the only thing that can occupy you. you didn't want to bother cheol on his night so you stayed lowkey.

you weren't drunk but you rethink because you didn't know why seungcheol's grandfather ushering you to talk to him.

"so i heard that you have been seeing my grandson" he started

"oh yeah i am" you politely answered, guilt wrapping you up when you realized that you were only feigning everything.

"i'm glad that he told me about a girl he goes out with, he barely tells me anymore because they don't last long" he giggled

"oh really? i would expect him to be married by now actually" you joked with him

you felt comfortable around him, his friends, his relatives, and even his co workers, they really provided you with a nice environment.

"i'm happy that you stayed with him even after knowing that you just started as a bet-"

"excuse me?" you were violated.

"i mean please excuse me i need to get some fresh air"

there was regret in mr.choi's face but it also held worry, was it true? you were a bet? what did he win for you? for this? what did he mean that you started as a bet?

you were furious, you knew you were also doing him wrong, but you felt bad for all of it.

it wasn't helping that you had to admit to yourself that you did like him. even through the fucked up situations you had this week, it was all messed up, fake.

but even in all that chaos, he was consistent, he was there.

now you're doubting if that was his acting as well

because now you were burning everywhere, because you knew you crossed the fine line along the feigned adoration over real devotion.

you adore choi seungcheol.

but now that meant nothing.

quick and heavy foot steps were heard behind you

"y/n!" cheol managed out with huffed breaths

you faced him with disdain painting your face.

“wow, you’re gonna run away after you defy me?” he laughed sarcastically, his face sullen his eyes filled with fury

“defy you? what about you making me a bet?” it dawned on him realizing that you knew about his faults too.

it was true, you did defy him, not that it was your choice, you had to do it for your job, you wrote about him, one of your how-to blog and magazine experiments.

how to lose a guy in 10 days

this was your last project being a part of this magazine line. you swore you couldn’t keep on using people for an article, you planned on being a journalist after quitting, after making him your last.

because after all, you love him.

your article could also be called “how to stupidly fall in love and find a man in 10 days”

“it was a bet at first, then i fell, but you just played me” he looked at you as if you just stabbed him straight to the chest

“what?” you said confused

“leave. i don’t ever wanna see you anymore” he warned

“didn’t know you could stoop so low, and don’t worry i will”

“how to lose a guy in 10 days huh?” he started “lucky you y/n because you just lost him” he uttered walking away.

the night turned completely upside down, both of your chests swelled with guilt, shame and anger.

your heart dropped, but you just swallowed you pride and left.

day 9 : drive me out of town

quickly packing your things to leave, you won’t do any good here now that everything is tainted by the man you met just a little more than a week ago.

you spent your whole day just wallowing the sadness from your love life leaving your friends, your apartment.

you published that article about choi seungcheol to have income before you left your low life and start as a struggling journalist to do what you always wanted, to write about more important things

conventional, innovative, a cry of the oppressed.

but people seemed to worry if blondes were more fun than brunettes.

you truly regret using him, but you both did the wrong things to the write people, only fate knew that.

you rode your cab ready to leave this damned city to move to another identical one.

the familiar streets slowly blurred into the abyss of the distance as you called your friends and relatives one by one just catching up and telling them little life updates.

you were sad, but you knew that seungcheol is probably feeling a lot more than you were.

the darkness of the sky basked you a sense of comfort, there’s always a new day.

you wished him peace.

it was a fault writing about him and confessing about you felt at the same time, but he deserved the last bit if honesty left to your fake situationship.

a raging motorcycle suddenly honks at your vehicle endlessly. your cab giving way but it seemed like it wasn’t what the motor rider meant

“OH MY GOD PLEASE STOP” you told the cab driver when you realized it was cheol’s bike.

was he planning to run you over?

you got out displaying yourself in front of the man you loved.

“y/n, it was all true” he said taking his helmet off he huffed tiredly but not slowing down his pace to get close to you

“what are you saying?”

“i liked you that’s why i agreed with the bet, hoping you would like me back, even though your personality was hard to work with” he laughed to himself

“why are you saying this? why now?”

“maybe i flipped the page too quick not seeing that you loved me as well”

“love”

“what?”

“i still love you” you whispered

“you won your bet a little too well mr.choi seungcheol”

“i love you too, and i don’t care if you pull your annoying your girl antics i still love you”

“that wasn’t me” you laughed

“well there was a part of you who did it, and i love all of you” he smiled showing his gummy grin.

you couldn’t help but feel free, you weren’t stuck in that annoying girl’s body forcing the guy you love to hate you.

“kiss me, cheol” you teared up

he didn’t need to be told twice as he rushed to close the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing to yours savoring every inch of it. your head shifting in sync as you both connected not wanting to let go.

today’s day 1. the first day of making it real.

day 10 : my heart, it lies within yours.

passed 12 am

i guess you did actually lose your bet now with your friends. at day 10 choi seungcheol was plush against your skin his lips in yours, and your hands in his hair.

“i hate that you have me wrapped around your finger” he groaned onto your lips

“i hate that you actually won your stupid bet” you sighed

“i always win, and this feels so much better than winning” he said lifting you

your bags left on the floor the moment you reached his home, he told you to call it yours as well, from now on.

your silence didn’t last long when the both of you were longing for each other leading you up to this moment.

“hm so cocky huh?” you teased him as you started kissing down on his neck as he laid you on his bed.

you pulled down on his tie realizing he was so busy at work all day.

you kissed him once more and switching the positions that you were previously on as you climbed onto his lap and continued making out

your hands wandering on his hair and his hands on your ass.

your tongue interacting as he let you do whatever you want, his hands started wandering on your body leaving your skin burning for more.

your kiss being more needy as you started to grind on his hard on. he groaned onto your lips leaving you to grind harder.

you started to unbutton his clothes as he followed suit, removing yours as well.

he was pulling on his tie

“no” you stopped him

“keep it on love” you commanded

he could throw you and turn this around, but he didn’t. he enjoyed this a little too much, loving the feeling of being taken care of.

you both were left on your under garments except him having his tie on

he looked so hot having his tie rest on his smooth and hard muscles, his abs and pecs shining from the moonlight.

you continued grinding on him until he held your hips to stop.

“let me have you first please” he sighed as he laid you down on the bed as he knelt on the ground facing your crotch.

he looked at you as if he was asking if he could remove it and you nodded back at him.

his blonde hair a bit messy as you caressed it and tugging while he was removing your underwear

his face getting closer to your heat as he started kissing on your thighs slowly.

his lips then met with your clit as he sucked slowly then proceeding to lap on your entrance already making it soaking than it already was.

his tongue bending slightly when met with the entrance teasing it and slowly stretching it.

his right hand caressing around your waist as the left one kept it on your thigh refraining it from moving.

his fingers slowly worked his mouth as he slowly dipped one into your hole.

his finger was thick, 2 of your fingers were your frequently used ones, but his reached so much deeper, felt so fuller.

he hummed against your clit as vibrations flooded through your veins. he added another finger making you writhe and pull on his hair more.

you pulled him up kissing his plump lips before making him lay down on the bed.

you held his hands as you put it above his head, you weren’t intending to restrain them at all.

his biceps protruding so well when you raised it keeping it there as you licked and sucked on his neck slowly removing his boxers.

you wanted to cum with him tonight.

his eyes went dark seeing his large dick lining up to your entrance, he wanted you to ride him, he wanted to stare at your beautiful body while you felt pleasure because of him.

"no condom?" he asked heavily, he wanted it, he wanted this, but he also wants to make sure that you're doing what you desire, not wanting to make regrets again.

"i don't care, fill me up, make me pregnant" you said in a daze, but even without the lust you had right now, you still would say yes.

"fuck" he groaned hearing your words

his length standing tall, he was already so girthy, his tip leaking red.

he wanted to feel pleasure with you, not just sitting there like some fuck doll.

you lined the tip with your entrance as you slowly sunk down already feeling an enormous stretch.

"god your cock is so big" you moaned as you rested your head by his neck sucking there to distract yourself from the slight pain.

his hands went down to your waist as he pushed you further, taking him all in.

he was sent to paradise with your walls crashing to his length, engulfing it in its warmth

"your pussy was made just for me, love" he groaned as his hands guided your waist to ride him.

you were releasing moans as you rode him, it's as if he was still getting bigger inside you.

you then leaned back to your position staring at him with his tie, he looked so hot with his abs clenching every time you squeeze his dick, and how his sweat made it look like he was glowing.

he was laying back with the most drunk in lust face he got as he bit his lower lip just staring at you bouncing at him.

every curve of him filled you even more hitting the right spots that led you to your high in a few more moments.

you both released at the same time, but cheol was far from over with you

he flipped you around entering you in a missionary position, he was truly strong as he pumped himself in you with a new found energy hitting even deeper than before.

he caressed the bump his dick made deep on your stomach.

he made a guttural moan just by the thought of you being able to carry his children by the very belly he's fucking oblivion to.

you pulled onto his tie causing it to tighten a bit that he moaned. you kissed him sloppily as your saliva mixed and dripped to the side of your chin.

he went down leaving marks on your delicate skin, already having red marks on your neck, he made sure to give your tits some love.

he sucked onto your left one and massaged the one on your right, continuously flicking it. his other hand made its way to massage your clit, which made your back arch and scream his name.

"fuck seungcheol" you moaned

"seungcheol? i thought you called me cheollie" he smiled at you with a shit eating grin

you could barely even give a response, you were simply brain dead from all the pleasure you had.

his pace going faster and faster as massaged your clit to a higher intensity, you both were sent over the edge for the second time tonight.

he slowly removed his length, as your hole felt the emptiness you groaned. your mixed arousal slipping out of your pussy as cheol just stared at it.

he inserted two fingers fucking the cum back into her, you moaned at overstimulation, he continued fucking you with his fingers.

"aren't you doing too much mr. choi?" you glared at seungcheol.

"gonna make sure you keep all of it" he said as she shakes his head giggling.

you pulled him down onto the bed as you sat up stuffing your underwear in his mouth making him moan out loud.

"your turn?" you grinned.

i felt like i could do better :") im sorry if this is bad.

taglist <3

@luchiet @sebongmochi @yawnseu @christinewithluv @musingsofananxiouspotato @raggedypansexual @90s-belladonna @nerdycheol @xcynthiaaa @inexistent-bluemind @jenoxygen @i-dont-give-a-fok @nmosyne @sleepzyy @justanarchiveforfics @springdaybreaks @k07-1313 @dunixxd

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live-love-be-unique · 2 months

Text

Crossing All The Lines

Summary: Callsign: Tink. Brought into the taskforce as a hacker/ intel specialist, you butt heads with your captain.

#47. Reader is a hacker or intel specialist for @glitterypirateduck O,Captain! challenge

Also, inspiration for a chubby reader and the death of a certain Austrian from @391780, Early I hope I did you proud.

Parings: Price x chubby f reader

Warnings: Idiots in love, female reader, smut with some plot, oral (f!receiving), vaginal sex 18+ Minors DNI

“It’s your eye in the sky, so to speak” you said, holding the small drone you had been tinkering with before he had walked into your office. You animatedly showed off the newest toy you had been tinkering with, pointing out the features you had added “it has the capability to record and store six hours of audio and video. I’m working on the signal range to extend…”

Price reached over the desk and turned off the screaming you called music that was blasting through your computer speakers “I’m not taking some flying toy into a war zone” he said with finality. Laswell’s recommendation be damned, he didn’t need some little dolly bird tottering around the base in ridiculous shoes telling him how to run his taskforce.

“Oh ok, so will you be letting Gaz know you’re planning on pitching him out the side of a helicopter again to run surveillance or am I?” you say, casting him a smirk over your shoulder as you place the drone on the shelf behind you. Price groaned and rolled his eyes away from you.

You were the newest addition to the taskforce, at Laswell’s insistence, she claimed you were the best intel operative she had encountered in years. She had pulled a few strings and called in some favours with the higher ups that Price could only fantasize about knowing to get you after you had saved their arses with some quite impressive hacking skills.

To say you weren’t what Price had been expecting was a massive understatement. The day you were introduced to the team, you were all bright colours and sparkles in a sea of soldiers. Hardly military issue, as you arrived on base, you had poured your soft, rounded curves into that dress. A wiggle-dress his mother used to call them, and ridiculously high heels. The sight of you made his mouth water and his hands itched to feel your soft skin and overflowing curves. Soap and Gaz took to you instantly, bestowing you with the callsign Tink because of your love for tinkering with random projects or Tinkerbell according to Soap, Ghost took a little longer but your preference for a proper cup of tea and non-judgmental attitude towards his unwillingness to show his face quietly won him over.

The only one you hadn’t bonded with was Price. You butted heads and frustrated each other. Trading snide comments and jabs. Price did appreciate the fact that you kept a jar of sweets on your desk that you made an effort to keep stocked with his and the lads favorite treats and he had to admit that, Laswell was correct, your hacking skills were second to none.

Price watched as you spent the first three weeks of your time on base bringing in new trinkets for your small office. Candles, figurines and a small cactus that Soap didn’t notice until he sat on one day. You admonished him for weeks until he brought you in another, non-spiky one. “I’m sorry, Tinkerbell, forgive me?” he’d pouted, holding out the small succulent towards you. Your office was an explosion of colour like you, and there was always music playing, you’d even created a playlist with Soap and Gaz.

But…on more than one occasion not that he would admit it, Price found himself in his office late at night surrounded by the cloying scent of artificial strawberries from the candles you preferred to decorate your office with that seemed to follow you around, with his hand furiously fisting his cock. Your bratiness was like catnip to him. Every cheeky little sass you threw his way made him harder than ever.

You yourself, never thought you would be one to enjoy it when a man yelled at you but with Price’s gravely, low voice and the sheer broadness of him…damn...you couldn’t count the nights you spent with the absolutely non military issue neon pink vibrator between your legs imagining it was Price instead, his booming voice echoing in your ears as you came. Your embarrassing crush on the captain had stopped you from dating, all bar a handful of dates with that very tall Austrian colonel from Kortac, you thought he had ghosted you after your dates but came to find out that he had died from ingesting strychnine poison in a Romanian brothel after sleeping with a married woman.

“Are you even listening to me?” Your voice pulled Price back to the present.

“There’s nothing to hear, we’re not taking that thing” he pointed towards the shelf.

“It’s already been cleared. You just have to control everything don’t you?”

“I’m the captain for a reason” he muttered, stubbornly.

You scoffed “god, I bet you couldn’t last one day without controlling everything”

Price leaned forward, open palms resting on the desk in front of him, staring down at you “try me”

“What?”

“You heard me…try me, doll”

You can’t tell who made the first move as your hair was wrapped tightly in Price’s hands as he pulled you against his lips in a heated kiss. He groans deeply as your teeth nip sharply at his bottom lip.

“That dress looks divine on you” he smirks, pulling away from your lips breathing heavily.

“Thank you-”

“How easy is it to take off?”

You smirked, turning your back towards Price, moving your hair over your shoulder and glancing over your shoulder at him.

Price licked his lips as his hands slid slowly from your waist up your back. His hands made quick work of the zipper as he slid the dress down over your shoulders, placing a gentle almost loving kiss between your shoulder blades.

You turned to face him as you dropped your dress to the floor. You felt exposed as Price’s eyes raked over your near naked form.

Price couldn’t take his eyes away from you. The lacy navy coloured lingerie hugged your soft, rounded curves perfectly. Your eyes locked with his as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“Tell me you want this” his eyes bore into yours as his hands toyed with the waistband of your underwear “tell me you want me”

“Price…”

“John, call me John…please” he whimpered.

“Please, John”

“Fuck” he uttered as he dragged the lace over your hips and down your legs. You shuddered as the cool air met your soaking core.

He pushes your legs apart, pressing little kisses on your inner thighs, before nuzzling his cheek against you, breathing in your scent as he lifted one of your legs to rest on his shoulder.

He looks up at you, eyes blown out with desire. Before you had a chance to think of a witty retort, he dives in, tongue sliding through your folds. You fall back against the desk with a soft groan as your hands find his hair, gripping tight as he laps at you like a man starved. “Fuck,” he moans against you. “You taste so fucking good.” He spreads you apart, adding a finger into the mix, he thrusts it in and out of your eager hole as his tongue laps at you. You moan softly, hand still tangled in his hair as you arched your back, body chasing his tongue against your heated skin.

“Stop wriggling” he gritted out, his voice strained as his calloused hands gripped the plush of your thighs.

“Make me”

Price chuckled as he grabbed your waist and lifted you, you squealed and wrapped your legs around his hips as he sat you on your desk “just once, will you do as you're told?” His hands on either side of your hips, holding you firmly against him.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You smirked, locking your ankles behind his back and pulling him closer.

Price grunts, gripping your thighs against his waist as he leans forward and leaves wet, sloppy kisses along your shoulders and up the column of your neck. His teeth nip and bite at the delicate skin, marking you, claiming you as his own.

“You have no idea how much I want you”

“Oh I think I get the idea” your smirk as his lips continued their path towards your chest. You ground against him and chuckled as you felt the rumble of a moan in his chest.

“I want to ruin you”

“Please…do it”

That was all the encouragement he needed as he hurried to undo his belt and shove his pants to his ankles.

“Your hand feels so much better than my own” he rasped as you wrapped your hands around him, lining his cock up with your pussy. You moaned against each other's lips as he sinks into you. The stretch to accommodate him is nothing short of delicious. Your grind against him as he bottoms out.

Your eyes meet as he pulls out of you before snapping his hips back against you, filling you so completely that it steals the air from your lungs.

Your hands grip anywhere you can as Price rolls his hips up into you, the way you squeeze him spurs him on as you writhe and keen underneath him. Your nails leave crescent shapes in the skin of his back as he looms over you, his arms caging you against his broad chest.

Price couldn’t stop himself, he kissed at the skin of your bare shoulder, bared his teeth and bit, hard, you yelped. Oh shit, he thought, have I gone too far?

He stopped and looked into your eyes, searching for any type of distress.

“More” you purred. You’d be the fucking death of him.

He smirks as he can feel your body tightening around him, you’re getting closer and he isn’t far behind as he slams into you with one final snap of his hips. His lips find yours as you moan into his mouth, tongue and lips clashing together as you come.

Your door swung open “about time” Ghost muttered as he closed the door again.

“So…that was…” Price stumbled out as he pulled out of you, picking up your dress that laid crumpled on the floor. He gently pulled it over your spent body. Resisting the urge to drop kisses to any sliver of skin he could see.

“Great, it was great” you smile, pausing slightly before standing up on your toes to place a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. He turned his head, chasing your lips as you shared a soft kiss.

“Yeah, it was great” he smiled, suddenly bashful.

#captain price cod #price smut #captain john price #john price #captain john price smut #oh captain my captain

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teapartyprincess4two · 1 month

Note

your writing is sooo good! i NEED a johnnie smut omg please write one💞

Monster- J. Guilbert

pairing: Extrovert!reader x Shy!Johnnie

classification: SMUT w/ a plot

inspiration: request^^, Monster by Lady Gaga

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, use of y/n, dom!Johnnie (kinda), “slut,” alcohol use, slight cursing, Jake and Tara are dating in this

summary: Tara plays matchmaker, earning Johnnie the night of his life with you in a bar restroom.

—

Johnnie’s been watching you all night, but he’s waiting for the alcohol to settle into his bloodstream before he finally walks up to you. You sit at the bar in a black, backless dress that allows a few of your tattoos to peak through. Bouncy curls are swept onto your shoulder, framing one side of your face as you chat with the bartender.

“Gonna keep staring or are you finally gonna make a move?” Jake nudges Johnnie’s shoulder.

Nights out like this are common for the pair, especially when living a fast paced life in the city of Los Angeles. When they’re not filming or editing, they’re usually out getting drunk, and they’ve managed to creat regular rotation of bars.

Today they find themselves at the Magic 8 Ball, the least crowded bar in L.A on a Friday night. No matter what unfamiliar faces that fill this place, though, yours is always constant. Every Friday, without fail, you saunter in and take a seat at the bar.

Johnnie can tell, just from watching you, that you’re an extrovert. You never seem to stay at the bar, you always wander onto the dance floor and lure a random stranger in for a quick bop around the room.

That’s what intimidates him, because as an introvert he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep up.

“I’m not staring,” Johnnie quips quickly, taking a swig of whatever alcoholic mixture swirls in his glass. He hisses as the liquid goes down.

If it were just Jake and Johnnie, the conversation would’ve died there. But tonight Tara joined them and she isn’t so adamant on letting the topic go.

“You should invite her to sit with us! You never know what could happen,” she prods teasing fingers into Johnnie’s sides, “plus she looks nice! I need a girlfriend to hang out with!”

“Johnnie needs a girlfriend, Tara. Not you,” Jake jokes. Johnnie rolls is eyes, scooting away from Tara as her fingers continue digging into his sides.

“I’ve had a girlfriend,” Johnnie replies, eyes darting back to where you sit at the bar.

“Yeah, had,” Jake says.

“It’s just hard to—“

“ALRIGHT! Enough!” Tara interrupts Johnnie mid sentence, slamming her hands onto the table as she stands up. “If you won’t make a move, I will,” she says, shimmying out of the booth.

Johnnie’s eyes are blown open in shock. He tries grabbing Tara before she can get too far, but she’s small and sneaky.

“That’s one way to do it,” Jake laughs, watching in amusement as his girlfriend does what his best friend doesn’t have the balls to do.

Johnnie, on the other hand, watches in horror.

There you are, sipping on your drink and chatting with the bartender, blissfully unaware of Tara’s approaching figure.

Tara sits at the bar, taking the seat directly next to yours. She interrupts your conversation with the bartender to order two drinks, one for you and one for her, before swiftly turning her attention to you with a warm smile.

Johnnie can’t bear to watch, but he also can’t look away.

You seem to like Tara, because you’re quick to engage in conversation with her. In the matter of seconds Tara has managed to learn your name, your favorite drink, and even your favorite song (it’s the one that plays over the club speakers).

“Oh God they’re coming,” Johnnie whisper shouts, trying to look casual. Tara’s arm is looped with yours as she leads you to their table, an accomplished look painting her face.

“What the fuck do I do? What the fuck do I do?! Fuck!”

“Just act casual. Don’t be weird— Oh fuck! Just shut up!” for some reason Jake finds himself just as nervous as Johnnie. Maybe he was just being empathetic, but they both scramble to get themselves together.

“Don’t be weird? What the fuck does that—”

Johnnie can’t seem to catch a break, because as soon as Tara reaches the booth she’s interrupting him. “Guys. This is Y/n, my new friend,” she gestures towards you, “Y/n, this is my boyfriend Jake and this is our friend Johnnie.”

The moment Tara says your name it’s engraved in Johnnie’s mind. He’s already in love.

Your smile is so big it could light up the room. You extend a hand to the two, immediately introducing yourself and falling into the booth next to Johnnie.

His heart is pounding and his ears are red hot with embarrassment.

“Well, while you two get acquainted, Jake and I are gonna go get drunk,” Tara says, pulling Jake out of the booth before he can get any more comfortable than he already is. She shoots Johnnie a wink before sending you a small wave, leading a confused Jake into the crowd of people.

“She’s nice. I like her,” you comment, watching until the couple disappears. “She’s… something,” Johnnie coughs, he’s so unbelievably awkward.

You chuckle, mostly because you think he’s cute and you find his fiddly personality amusing.

“Johnnie, huh? I had a friend named Johnnie once,” you say, attempting to make conversation. Your manicured nails tap against you glass cup, silver hoop earrings reflecting the strobing lights as you try catching his gaze.

“Bet he didn’t look like this though,” Johnnie replies, clearly referring to his all black attire.

“Hmmm, no. He definitely didn’t,” you giggle. You take a sip from your drink, a lipstick stain remaining once you place the cup back onto the table. Johnnie wonders what it’d feel like to kiss you.

“You’re much cuter,” you continue. Johnnie can’t tell if he’s dreaming, were you actually flirting with him?

Maybe it’s the surge of confidence your compliment gives him, or maybe the alcohol finally kicked in, but Johnnie suddenly finds himself being flirtatious.

“So do you flirt with all the Johnnies you know?”

He’s surprised at how fast you quip back, “Nope. Just the cute ones.”

You’ve subconsciously leaned closer to him, your faces dangerously close.

“Okay, so we’ve established that I’m cute,” he smirks. “What else am I?”

You giggle, a sound that Johnnie swears he can listen to for forever.

“Well clearly you’re not shy anymore,” your finger traces the rim of your drink. A drunk smile and sultry eyes lure him in, pulling him close enough for his lip rings to press against your skin.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, a wandering hand finding your thigh. You shiver at the sensation. His fingers were ice cold, but they still managed to ignite a fire deep within your core.

“Like this?” you tease, batting your eyelashes.

You never made it a habit of sleeping with strangers, but Johnnie was the sheep in wolves clothing that played innocent until you were close enough to bite.

“I warned you,” his breath fans against your lips one last time before he’s capturing your lips in a heated kiss. It’s the first kiss Johnnie’s had in years which makes it that much more exciting.

Your plump lips chase his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. The club is loud, but you’re so immersed in the man in front of you that you forget you’re not the only two people in the room and lose all control.

Johnnie’s hands find your waist, tugging until you’re straddling his lap. He pulls away breathlessly, silently thanking Tara for working her magic once he sees you on top of him.

Your dress rides up slightly, revealing more of your backside than you’d like. The sight earns you a few whistles from bystanders, breaking you from your lustful daze. “Oh shit,” you squeak, trying to scramble off of Johnnie, but his grip is firm enough to keep you in place.

An animalistic, monster-like need has overtaken him and he’s willing to sacrifice his self image to fuck you in front of all these strangers. But he simultaneously doesn’t want anyone else to see you, to enjoy you, the way he’s about to.

“Restroom. Now,” he growls, pinching the soft skin of your ass. You squeal in excitement, allowing the desires of your flesh to cloud your judgement as you hop off of him and wiggle your way out of the booth. You adjust your dress as you wait for Johnnie to follow before taking his hand in yours and leading him towards the restroom. He makes a mental note to let this be the only time you lead him tonight.

Everyone’s watching, yet you can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed. If anything it excites you more.

You find the restroom quickly, a wave of gratitude washing over you when you realize it’s a single stall. This means you can be as loud as you want, and from the look in Johnnie’s eyes, you can tell you’ll also need the extra room.

He’s quick to lock the door and immediately engulfs your face in his hands, bringing you in for the second heated kiss of the night. Johnnie’s eager and it shows in the way he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip.

His left hand remains on your face while the other travels down to your ass, squeezing firmly against the material of your dress. A moan escapes your lips, providing him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes surprisingly sweet, like pomegranate and pineapple.

He leads you to the sink counter, your bodies bouncing back slightly when they hit the cold marble. “Up,” he commands.

You hop onto the counter, giving him enough room to fit between your legs. Johnnie’s erection presses against your inner thigh, but he gives you no time to comment on it before his lips are back on yours.

Johnnie’s hand’s find your boobs, massaging your mounds slowly as he deepens the kiss. “More,” you murmur against the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in closer to you. He smirks against your mouth at your neediness.

“So needy.” He pulls your head back, providing him with perfect access to your neck. Sloppy, open mouth kisses trail from your jawline down to your exposed collarbone. Each one gives you goosebumps.

“Fuck me please,” you whimper, feeling your panties become more soaked by the second. “So polite,” he teases, sucking on your skin until it bruises.

The rough material of his jeans comes in contact with your clothed pussy. He dry humps you just to hear the strained moans that escape your lips.

Finally, when you rut back, he decides he’s teased you enough. Your dress is bunched up around your waist, exposing the wet underwear that he pushes to the side.

“So fucking sexy,” he grunts, kneeling in front of you to get a better view. He’s in love. What he wants to do is eat you out, but there’s no time for that in a club as crowded as this. Especially not when there’s only one restroom.

You watch in awe as he presses a quick kiss on your bundle of nerves, immediately licking his lips right after. “Yummy,” he chuckles, bringing you in for another hungry kiss.

Your hands find his belt, unbuckling it with fervor and tugging at his belt loop to bring him back in to you. He gets the message and helps you in unbuttoning his skin-tight jeans. Your forehead is flush against his as you watch his dick spring up, it bobs back and forth as you take in the sheer size.

“Holy fuck,” your voice is full of exasperation. How was that meant to fit inside of you?

Maybe it’s because he hasn’t done this in a long time, but Johnnie suddenly feels self conscious. He hides his face in your neck before you can notice how red it becomes, but you’re quick to push his shoulders back.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. Where’d that monster go?” you place a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. His dick twitches and cries precum at the reassurance.

He pulls you back in for a kiss, feeling confident once again. He lines himself up tentatively with your entrance, rubbing the tip along your folds before slowly pushing himself in.

Your eyes are screwed shut, small tears forming at the corners as you struggle to adjust to the stretch. “Fuck Johnnie, wait,” you say, pushing against his stomach slightly. Suddenly you’re not sure you want him to fuck you dumb, his size alone was enough to have you seeing stars.

Your words fall on deaf ears, though, and before you know it he’s pushed himself all the way in. You gasp, throwing your head back against the bathroom mirror. Your pussy clenches around him as you try to hold him in place knowing the longer you keep him there, the more time you’ll have to adjust.

It’s no use though, because he begins thrusting into you at a relentless, unforgiving pace. The pain is quickly replaced with pleasure, the tip of his penis kissing your cervix every time his hips slam into yours.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he grunts, strong hands gripping your waist so he can fuck into you even faster. You whimper at the sensation, his fingers were sure to leave bruises.

“Just like that, Johnnie. So good,” you egg him on, holding onto his neck for support. He hasn’t slowed his pace, instead moving one hand from your hips down to your throbbing clit.

Your legs instinctively push together, but his body moves them back into their previous position as he continues. “Such a slut,” he purrs, watching the euphoric look that paints your face when he rubs his thumb against your sensitive nub.

“Yes! Such a slut,” you’re drunk on dick, babbling whatever will get you closer to your pending release.

“My slut?” he asks, using the hand that was previously gripping your waist to take a firm hold of your face. Your eyes lock with his, taking notice of the way lust clouds his pupils. “All yours,” you whisper.

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you. Your tongues collide in a heated mixture of moans and whimpers. All the while he continues pounding into you and rubbing circles on your clit.

One particularly hard thrust has you dumb, a string of curse words and chants of his name being the only thing you can manage to say. “C’mon baby, c’mon,” he growls, sloppily kissing you as he feels his climax approaching.

“Johnnie!”

Your walls flutter around him, your entire body trembling as your orgasm washes over you.

Your hair falls in front of your face and you find yourself holding Johnnie’s wrist, pushing his hand away as it continues working on your clit. “Almost there,” he moans, pulling his hand away to focus his attention on fucking you.

You’re sensitive. You’re whimpering. You’re so fucked out that it’s overstimulating.

“Cum for me, handsome,” you moan, still coming down from your own high. He continues rutting his hips into you, chasing his release until finally it washes over him.

Hot spurts of cum paint your insides, lazy hips rolling against you. He’s panting from above you, hands falling from your body and latching onto the counter for support.

“Fuck that was… that was amazing,” Johnnie says, pulling out of you reluctantly.

He knows the sooner he pulls out and you two get dressed, the quicker you’ll become strangers. And that’s terrifying.

“You were amazing,” you reply, using your finger to pull his pensive gaze back towards you by his chin.

“Don’t tell me it’s a one and done,” you pout, “I was hoping to have more moments like that.”

Johnnie still stands between your legs, his limp dick resting on your exposed thighs. He lights up at your suggestion. His hands have opted for a much softer hold on your hips, thumbs massaging your skin. He knows he was rough, but he couldn’t help it.

“I mean— I’d like to— we could— fuck I’m so bad at this,” he stutters, suddenly reverting back to his natural, awkward state.

“You’re cute,” you giggle, pecking his nose and hopping off the counter. His ears flush red again.

“How about we get cleaned up and then we’ll worry about the rest later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” a big goofy smile adorns his face. His rosy cheeks make you wanna pinch him and gush over how cute he looks.

“Weren’t you just fucking my brains out a second ago?” you tease, only making him more flustered.

“I’m shy, I can’t help it.”

“Not that shy apparently,” you pull him in for one more kiss.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: Tara the goat, the best wingwoman ever!

I locked in. Thank you for ur kind words bby, I LUV U!

Enjoy 🎱😜 - L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @mimi-luvzyu

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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publicenemy212 · 3 months

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Part 2 of Love Potion (dom!Velvette x f!sub!reader)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

woo boy this ended up a lot longer than i expected! this is Part 2; Part 1 brings more context to the story!

Read Part 1 here

warnings:

not beta'd, porn w/ plot, dubcon, aphrodisiacs, a mix of degradation+praise, edging, oral, strapless dildo, floor sex, power dynamics (boss x employee)

word count: 4611

Also on AO3!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The grand tower overshadowed you. Neon lights glimmered in the red sky, mixing with the city smog to create a glowing cloud surrounding the already-intimidating building. You weren’t even past those glass doors yet and you could already feel the stifling power emanating from the Vees’ headquarters, choking your breath and your soul.

You took a deep inhale to calm your screaming nerves. All that time you’d spent building a following, perfecting your aura, your looks, your energy: it was all about to pay off. If everything went according to plan, you would be well on your way to living the true high life by the end of tonight.

As you gazed upwards at the top of the building where the three giant V signs blazed, you steeled yourself for the rapidly-approaching meeting with your long time idol.

Ignoring the random sounds of the hellish city behind you, you stepped forward to dial in the callbox next to the locked entrance.

Your nails clacked against the brushed steel of the keypad. After a few moments of static, a voice crackled through the tiny speaker. “V Tower, how may I help you?”

Clearing your throat, you responded, “I’m here for an interview with Velvette.”

A brief moment of silence passed as the concierge fiddled with the door lock controls. A clicking sound preceded the large modern doors sliding open, granting you entrance to the overlords’ abode.

Heart pounding, you swallowed the excess saliva that had formed in your mouth and stepped into the V Tower lobby.

The lobby itself was already lavishly furnished, showcasing wealth and power to no end. The shining tile floor reflected everything as perfectly as a crystal-clear lake, undoubtedly polished and cleaned by the multitude of assistants whose souls were tethered to the Vees’ iron grips. Several potted plants were masterfully placed around the expansive lobby, bringing an air of class and cleanliness that was absent from the world outside these decorated walls. So this was true power. The ability to create and maintain a relatively civilized and clean bubble amidst literal Hell.

As you marveled at the sights, a rather insignificant looking figure approached you. Another poor pest without a soul, you thought, pitying their sorry state. Of course, you couldn’t be as arrogant as you normally were while in the presence of the Vees, so you tried your best to tone your reactions down. Instead of a sneer, you only casted a rather cool gaze down at the sinner. “Yes?”

The sinner shuffled their papers awkwardly and cleared their throat. “Velvette has asked me to take you to her. Follow me, please.”

You nodded once and quickly fixed your clothing, smoothing any wrinkles or rumples that formed during your commute, before following the assistant to an elevator. You made sure to maintain just the right balance of an air of vanity, as was your brand. You certainly could not afford to drop that in front of Velvette. After all, she chose you only based on the image you created of yourself on Sinstagram. Deviate from that, and you might just get yourself dismissed.

It wasn’t too hard, anyway. Your ego was quite large and you wholeheartedly believed yourself to be a god among men, especially when around lowly nobodies like that frail assistant mumbling over their papers. However, you also recognized when you were that weak nobody in comparison to somebody else—somebody like Velvette. In such scenarios, you made sure to act your place. Picking your fights wisely was what got you to success in the first place. Only after you had amassed more power would you even consider biting back.

The elevator dinged as it reached Velvette’s floor. In the corner of your eye, you noticed the assistant shiver briefly. What a loser.

You stepped out of the elevator, taking another deep breath. The air smelled like a clothing store and strawberries and… a tinge of blood. You paid it no mind. Sinners killing other sinners was commonplace. It was even less surprising here, since this place belonged to not one, but three bloodthirsty overlords. As you continued walking towards the center of the room, you discovered the source of the smell: several models, whom you recognized from Velvette’s fashion shows, were torn limb from limb and left strewn across the room. You raised an eyebrow at the sight.

“Hey you! Get your arse over here, I don’t have all day.” A cocky voice sounds from the left end of the room.

That’s Velvette’s voice. No doubt. You instinctively straightened your back and lifted your chin ever-so-slightly as you walked over to meet her.

She was even more intimidating in real life; gorgeous, too, of course. As to be expected from the fashion overlord.

She sat in her director’s chair and tapped away on her phone. As you neared her chair, her eyes lifted from the screen to meet yours before looking you up and down. A smirk crept up onto her face.

“Well, at least you don’t disappoint me from the first impression.”

She stood up from where she sat and slid her phone into her pocket, her skull earrings jingling softly. “You gonna hand me those photos or what?”

You dipped your head. “Of course. Here’s my portfolio.” You reached into your purse to procure a small folder filled with your best modeling shots and handed it to Velvette. She snatched it rudely from your hands and shuffled through the carefully-selected photos with little care. You watched her eyes expectantly, desperate to take note of any hint of emotion.

After a minute, Velvette scoffed, slamming the folder shut and throwing it behind her back. You cringed slightly at her obvious rejection.

“Are you joking? These photos are shit. Did you take them yourself or something?”

You blinked and took a breath. “No, ma��am, I hired a photographer for these images.”

“Really? Then I hope you killed them afterwards, because this work is worse than the pictures I took as a five-year-old.”

Before you could think of something to say, she roughly grabbed your arm and dragged you down the hallway. Bewildered, you simply stumbled along. “Sorry, but where are you taking me?”

“We’re taking new pictures for you. Ones that will actually look professional, instead of whatever dogshit you showed me earlier.”

You bit back your tongue. Though you were no overlord, your power still wholly outmatched most sinners you came into contact with in your day-to-day life. Anybody who spoke to you like how Velvette was speaking to you just now would’ve been killed already. You hated disrespect, but now was not the time to fight. Lashing out would not only mean an end to your career but also to your life. Sure, sinners couldn’t truly die at the hands of another sinner without being hurt with an angelic weapon, but regenerating over the course of two weeks or so was a torturous ordeal you’d rather not go through.

By now, Velvette was intrigued. It wasn’t every day she recruited a new model who could hold their temper against her harsh remarks. Maybe only about 30% of interviewees. However, these were exactly the type of people she needed on her team. She absolutely refused to deal with any bitchy narcissists who thought they could go against her. Which, unfortunately, was the majority. Then again, these people were all in Hell for a reason. She couldn’t really expect there to be many humble sinners out there. No, humble wasn’t the right word: rather, people who knew their rightful place.

Once the two of you entered the photography studio, Velvette reached for her phone and called in one of her assistants to retake your pictures for your modeling portfolio. You waited patiently, unwilling to stir any conflict.

Velvette broke the silence. “Y’know, you’re lucky you’re still here and in one piece. I would have had you sent away after you presented those pictures to me, but that bitch Valentino ripped through a good half of my top models during one of his hissy fits again. Were it not for that, you would certainly not be here!” she declared snarkily, ending her comment with a cocky laugh.

It took everything in you to not roll your eyes. Self-control was, fortunately, one of your strong suits—unbeknownst to you, Velvette was watching your every reaction to her words and actions.

Today had been a slow day for Velvette. She only had her second-rate models to work with, and none of them satisfied her standards for the shoot she had in mind. Of course, now that there was fresh meat well within her grasp, she decided to have a bit of fun with things. Just how far could she push your buttons before you fought back?

The photographer she called finally arrived at the studio. Velvette exited the room without another word, her eyes never leaving her phone screen. All these awfully boring notifications to go through, clients to respond to… leave it to Val to ruin her entire fucking week. Everything had to be pushed back after his latest idiotic tantrum. Velvette groaned as she leaned against the wall.

She opened the camera app and set it to selfie mode. At least her hair and makeup were still perfectly in place. After finding the perfect angle under the hallway lighting, she snapped a few pictures to post on her Sinstagram story.

Suddenly, her screen flashed with an incoming call from Vox. Velvette rolled her eyes, slightly miffed at the interruption.

“What do you want right now? You know today isn’t the best time to be calling me.”

Vox sighed over the phone. “Just letting you know that I’ve placated the pissbaby.” He droned on in a rather exhausted tone.

“Great! Now keep him that way, I can’t afford him storming down here and ruining my next best candidate for the shoot.”

Velvette tapped the red button to hang up the call, mumbling expletives under her breath. Just the thought of Valentino bringing his idiotic rants into her business made her blood boil. You’d think he would be calmer with all those cigarettes he smoked all the time, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

She finished editing and posting her newest selfies to her story before going back to handle all of her unread messages.

After another ten minutes, she barged back into the photography studio. “You’ve taken long enough, let me see those photos.”

The assistant imp meekly stood up and made way for Velvette to look at the digital files on the computer. You stayed in the corner, waiting for Velvette’s next orders, albeit with much more dignity than that trembling imp.

After a few moments, Velvette walked back to the doorway. “Good enough, now scurry along and get those printed.”

The imp didn’t hesitate for a second before taking the laptop and scrambling away, head down the entire time. You found it rather amusing how these lowly assistants didn’t even bother trying to keep their pride intact. Of course, you knew better—you understood how to bow to a stronger power but still respect yourself in the process. You understood the art of keeping an image.

Your self-control didn’t go unnoticed by the overlord in the room. In fact, the entire time ever since you two met face-to-face, she’d been toying with the idea of how to break that carefully curated composure of yours. It would be some much-needed entertainment after the shitty day she’d had.

Velvette stopped at the studio exit and turned to face you. “You. Follow me, I think you deserve a rest after all this work.” She turned around and kept walking without looking back to see if you followed or not. She didn’t need to; from what you’ve shown so far, you were quite the obedient one.

“Of course.” You tailed her down the hallway until she stopped in front of another room. The two of you entered what you soon realized was the company break room. The warm aroma of coffee filled your nostrils and she gestured to you to sit down.

“Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee would be great.”

To your surprise, Velvette poured a cup for you. A rather shocking act of politeness from the overlord compared to all the interactions you’ve had tonight.

She handed you the mug before sitting at the table across from you.

“So tell me more about yourself. Why’d you want to be scouted by my company?”

You stared at her peppermint-like eyes. Her face betrayed no ill will. Taking a sip of the warm coffee, you respond candidly. “Well, I would say I’m quite the catch. I wouldn’t want to join just any random bullshit agency out there. That would be a waste of my talent.”

Velvette smiled amicably. “That’s true. And I did select you for a reason, sweetie. Glad to see you own up to it. I certainly cannot deal with any bitches who either have egos smaller than their dicks or ugly creatures who somehow think they’re the shit.”

As Velvette continued to inquire about your life and goals, you couldn’t help but notice a strange buzz welling up inside of you. You drank coffee every day; you had definitely built a tolerance to caffeine by now. There was no way one cup of coffee was affecting you this strongly.

After the short interview in the break room, Velvette led you back down the hallway into a changing room. Something was wrong. Your muscles trembled ever so slightly, your legs weak with each step you took. Not to mention how you could feel your body temperature rise. Did Velvette drug the coffee? You silently cursed yourself for not realizing that earlier, but it was too late to do anything about that now. You had come so close to realizing your dreams. There was no way you were going to let everything down the drain now.

As she walked you down the hall, Velvette grinned ever so slightly. She almost couldn’t believe you just accepted that cup and drank it without a second thought. How the fuck did you survive for so long in Hell? What a goddamned idiot.

She could tell from the slight twitches in your stride and your face that the Love Potion she had slipped into your drink was kicking in. Now, she just had to see how long it would be before that poise of yours came crashing down.

In the changing room, she riffled through the endless outfits hung up in the walk-in closet to select one of her newest designs for you to try out. You took the chance to sit down and rest your shaky legs. Blood pounded through your ears as if they were drumbeats announcing your advancing demise. You gritted your teeth, determined to tough it out. You had gone through worse before. Fighting against chemicals in your bloodstream was nothing… right?

Doubts began inching up your mind like worms as the effects of whatever drug Velvette fed you only increased. Sweat began to bead up along your brow and your cheeks felt hot to the touch. Worst of all, there was a growing ache between your legs that only seemed to get worse with every second that passed.

You swallowed the saliva that had pooled inside your mouth. Even your vision was starting to blur. Fuck.

Unexpected images of Velvette kissing you and fucking you flashed behind your eyes.

“Hello? Helloooo? Wake up!”

You snapped back to reality to see Velvette inches away from your face. “I’m so sorry, I’m not sure what’s gotten into me,” you uttered weakly before clearing your voice and straightening yourself. “Apologies.”

She scrutinized you for a few moments before leaning back and handing you a pile of clothes. “Well, while you were busy daydreaming about god-knows-what, I’ve been asking you for the past minute if you could wear this outfit.” Your pupils were dilated beyond control. How cute.

You fumbled with the fabrics before standing up to get changed. Yet, to your horror, you felt the coolness of air hitting a wet spot between your thighs. A matching damp mark was on the chair where you were sitting.

Velvette feigned shock and disgust. “What the fuck is that?”

Shame pulsed through your entire body. “I—I don’t know why this is happening, I swear,” you tried to speak with an even voice, failing miserably as your voice croaked in the middle.

Velvette scowled in revulsion. “Well, quit it. You have a job to do right now. I don’t have all day.” She was intrigued. Most people would’ve been reduced to a nonfunctional pile of lust by now, especially at the dosage she gave you. She wondered how much more she could put you through before you finally fell apart.

She exited the room to give you privacy to change into the new clothes. Tapping on the Vmessages app, she decided to give Vox a small update on her newest prey.

Slipped 50mg of Love Potion extract into her drink LOL

The changing room door creaked open and you stepped out, wearing the clothing Velvette chose for you. She turned off her phone and spun around to face you. She circled you like a vulture, her watchful eyes assessing whether the design was acceptable or not. “Not bad. At least it isn’t too far from what I had in mind.”

Satisfied, Velvette beckoned you to follow her back to the photography studio. Your legs threatened to buckle with each step. It took every ounce of your waning willpower to keep a straight face and a normal stride. The world swam before your eyes.

One foot suddenly knocked into the other. You gasped and tumbled to the floor helplessly. Right before you hit the floor, Velvette caught your arm. You panted heavily, a mix of overbearing, unplaced lust and adrenaline pounding through your chest.

She hauled you back upright before glaring at you. “What’s the matter with you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound could come out. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath to regroup your thoughts. Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, you exhaled, expecting it to be silent—you were just breathing, for fuck’s sake—but your vocal chords were just tense enough to involuntarily generate a soft, needy moan.

Your eyes flew open with horror at your own body’s blatant betrayal. Velvette stared directly at you and raised an eyebrow.

“I take it that you’d like some help right now?” She smirked.

By now, your self-control had dissolved into oblivion. You could hardly even think coherent thoughts anymore. The only thing left on your mind?

You nodded profusely.

To your dismay, Velvette laughed in your face and shoved you forward. “Then that’s too bad. Keep walking, filthy whore.”

You whined, your legs pressing together. You tried to keep walking forward, but you tripped and fell to the polished tiles below not two steps later. Groaning in need, you tried to lift yourself back up, only to fail pitifully. It seemed like your sense of balance had left you as well. Everything felt like getting drunk, only ten times worse and ten times hornier.

Velvette’s heels clacked closer. She bent down and smiled at you. “Looks like you finally broke.”

Your bleary eyes stared back at her in confusion. She scooped you up from under your arms, letting you lean against her for support as she walked you back to the changing room.

Once you two were alone inside the room, she sat you on a bench and locked the doors.

The red-haired overlord returned to stand over your trembling self. She crossed her arms and stared down at you. “How about a deal, hm? I’ll help you relieve this suffering this time, and in return, you give me your soul.” She stuck out a hand.

Her words went through one ear and out the other. Everything was lost on you except for her offer to help you. Mindlessly, you accepted the deal.

You grasped her hand, solidifying the exchange of your soul to her control. Velvette grinned maliciously before leaning in towards you and kissing you.

Purple light and energy flickered in the air surrounding you both. The soul deal was complete.

She lifted you up to make it easier for the two of you to deepen the kiss. Her tongue flicked around inside your mouth, brushing against yours in the process. Her hands gripped the sides of your face as yours snaked around the back of her neck, your fingers running through her hair. There was no space left between you and her, your bodies pressed against each other as tightly as possible. You bit her bottom lip and licked it to taste her strawberry-flavored lip gloss. Although Velvette didn’t expect to find herself so into you when she first thought up the plan, she couldn’t deny how much she also wanted this. It was nice to have another plaything.

A string of mixed saliva connected your lips as you broke for air. You gasped to catch your breath.

You two continued to kiss soon after. Her black lipgloss smeared over your bare lips and soon enough, your neck as well. Each kiss and bite earned a whimper out of you as you clutched onto her weakly. Everything was a reminder as to how small you truly were in the presence of an overlord.

Velvette pulled away suddenly. “Sit down.” She commanded you, shoving you back down onto the bench. Your chest still heaved for air, your breathing labored and impaired from the spiked coffee.

“Take off your pants.”

You frantically obliged, desperate for any kind of stimulation to your aching clit.

She kneeled in front of you, holding your inner thighs apart. Her puffy pigtails tickled your legs.

“Vel, please, I—I need…”

Any other words you had were cut off by a sharp gasp as she shoved her face to your cunt without warning. Your already-moist vagina combined with her slick mouth with both hers and your own saliva from making out made for the most unholy, wet noises as she ate you out. Your back arched and you gritted your teeth at the sensory overload from your hypersensitive, drugged nerves firing waves after waves of pure bliss. Velvette’s tongue alternated from swirling around your clit to dipping inside your hole, fucking you nonstop. Your thighs tightened around her head, her own hands holding your legs over her shoulders. One of your hands propped you up while the other one gripped Velvette’s hair.

“Fuck, I—oh god,” you managed to gasp out.

Her red eyes glanced up at you. “Enjoying yourself up there, you whiny little slut?” She chuckled with her mouth still against your cunt, the vibrations adding fuel to the fire. Her tongue thrust back inside of you to work you closer to the edge.

You moaned through your teeth once more. Velvette could feel your walls tighten around her tongue. You were close, and that was also her sign to stop. She pulled back as briskly as when she dove in.

You blinked away your tears and wiped your drool with your hand that was on her head. “Wha… why?” Your voice cracked a little with unfulfilled need.

Velvette wiped her own mouth with her hand to get rid of your slick and her drool. She grinned at you. “Aww, sad that you didn’t get to cum? Don’t worry, darling.” With that, she turned around to rummage through one of the dressers.

You blinked, confused and unable to think properly. In your incapacitated state, you were willing to do anything Velvette said if it meant you could reach your high. Nothing mattered in the world but sex.

You sat there stupidly until Velvette returned with a strapless dildo. Your eyes slid from the dildo and back up to the overlord’s lustful gaze. The end that would be going into you… it had to have been a good seven inches long. Smiling, she leaned towards you and handed the silicone toy to you. She pointed at her end of the toy. “I want you to coat this part nice and good. Don’t leave a single spot dry.”

You stared at the silicone cock for a moment before bringing it to your mouth. You dragged your lips and tongue over the toy lasciviously, slathering it with your saliva as you were instructed before handing it back to your boss.

She hummed, satisfied with your obedience and drugged stupor. “Good girl.” Velvette patted you on the head mockingly.

Her own pants fell to the floor as she inserted the strapless end of the dildo inside herself, moaning in the process. The sound itself caused another pulse of pleasure through your own lower regions. You breathed heavily as you watched the silicone cock bounce before your face. Velvette’s right hand grabbed your hair roughly, pulling your head back just enough to face her dick. Her other hand guided the tip to your lips. She grinned at the feeling of complete dominance over the previously well-composed sinner. “Suck.”

You parted your mouth, giving her full access to your throat. Without hesitation, she thrusted as far as she could, forcing you to gag and choke. Saliva oozed out of your mouth and down your chin while she fucked your mouth brutally, ensuring to unwind you even further. To ruin you even more.

Your hands grasped at her buttocks for some semblance of support. You groaned and whimpered as drool dripped everywhere.

Once Velvette was happy, she pulled out to admire her work. The dildo glistened under the changing room lights, and best of all, your expression was utterly priceless—your eyes unfocused, hair tousled, mouth slightly agape and slobber essentially everywhere.

“Beautiful. Now get on the floor. On your stomach.”

You slid off the bench and laid face down. Velvette soon followed suit, kneeling on the floor behind you. She grabbed your hips, lifting them up with surprising strength. Your knees dug against the cold tiles. A hand pushed the small of your back back down towards the floor, guiding your body into the perfect arch. You couldn’t see much but you soon felt something cold and wet prodding your entrance.

Velvette thrusted into you in one powerful stroke, hilting herself almost immediately. “That went in surprisingly easily… been wanting this, huh?” her voice taunted you from behind. She began to thrust back and forth, your hips colliding and sending loud smacking noises across the room. Both of your moans joined the wet slapping sounds. Your hands clawed uselessly at the smooth tiled floor, the lack of support adding to the overpowering stimulation and feeling of a loss of control. Velvette laughed at your pitiful state, her own ecstasy from that power trip and the two-way dildo mixing into a pleasurable cocktail of emotions.

You came multiple times, the stimulation now so immense each movement brought tears to your eyes nonstop. A white ring of your cum formed around the base of Velvette’s cock, adding to the lubrication from your slick and saliva. At some point, you began to fade in and out of consciousness, which only added to Velvette’s amusement. Velvette only stopped once she felt her own fatigue creeping in, her stress successfully alleviated for the day. She pulled out of your limp body with a sigh and pulled it out of herself after. Tossing the toy aside, she cast another glance at your spent body before taking out her phone.

Vmessages 6m ago

Vox

So, how’d it go?

Velvette smiled, tapping on the notification to send a reply.

Made a new deal. Found ourselves a new keeper. x

#hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin smut #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette x reader #velvette smut

300 notes · View notes

nanowrimo · 7 months

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Beyond the Word Count: A Book Editor's Guide to Writing a First Draft

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. First Draft Pro, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is a beautifully designed writing app for fiction writers. Today, they've partnered with Kelly Norwood-Young, former book editor for Pan Macmillan and Penguin Random House, to bring you some pro tips on writing your first draft:

In my career as a book editor, I’ve reviewed hundreds of manuscripts. I've seen the joy of authors creating compelling tales, but also how disheartening it can be to rewrite a disjointed story. I’m here to give you some strategies to address common pitfalls so that you not only reach your NaNoWriMo goal, but also lay the groundwork for a manuscript that truly deserves to be called a gripping novel.

1. Have a plan.

Even if you’re more of a ‘pantser’ than a ‘planner’, it's really helpful to have an outline. I have two favourite approaches for this: the structure-first approach, and what I call the ‘Phoebe Waller-Bridge approach’.

The structure-first approach

There are a lot of narrative frameworks for story structure, but the most foundational in Western fiction is the three-act structure. Here’s a handy guide that breaks each of the classical three acts into a day-by-day guide to NaNoWriMo:

8-day guide to Act 1

14-day guide to Act 2

8-day guide to Act 3

The Phoebe Waller-Bridge approach

I love this quote from Phoebe Waller-Bridge: ‘I’ve never thought structure first. I’ve always thought material first, jokes first, character first ... But knowing the end really helps. Then you just go as far away from the end emotionally as you possibly can.’

Sketch out your major story arcs, your character’s desires and conflicts, and the world they inhabit. The more you know your story's world and inhabitants, the less you'll stray into scenes that lack purpose or create plot and character inconsistencies.

2. Keep the story moving.

Each word needs to propel your story forward. Superfluous details or tangents that don’t serve the narrative stall the momentum you’re trying to generate for your reader.

There’s a trick you can use to move your story forward, called the question of reversibility. Ask yourself: How difficult would it be for my character to reverse their decision? The harder it would be for them to turn back, the more you’ve moved the plot forward.

3. Plant clues carefully.

Plant important elements early and make sure every element, however subtle, serves a purpose (i.e. Chekhov’s Gun).

Be sure to set up necessary components for your climax so that you can steer clear of Deus ex Machina (having that strong outline will help you here), and avoid red herrings unless they serve a clear, meaningful purpose (e.g. you’re writing a mystery and your readers expect some false leads). Misleading your readers without a payoff can erode their trust.

4. Write for the reader, not yourself.

‘There is only one thing you write for yourself, and that is a shopping list,’ insists Umberto Eco in On Literature. Even if writing, for you, is a therapeutic outlet, a form of self-expression, or a way to leave a legacy, you’re still writing to say something to someone else. Your story simply won’t be as strong if you forget your reader’s perspective.

5. Keep daily editorial notes for your future self.

While editing should wait until at least December, end each day with a brief reflection, noting any off-course deviations, potential inconsistencies, areas to research further, or moments of inspiration to revisit when you start editing.

These daily notes will be invaluable during the editing process, helping you to remember insights that are no longer fresh when you come back to the manuscript later.

6. Embrace the first-draft mentality.

There’s a lot you can do to ensure that your first draft is the best it can be before the end of November—but just as important is to understand that all first drafts have flaws.

As a book editor, I've witnessed manuscripts transform, sometimes unrecognizably, from their first drafts. Embrace the uncertainty and creative detours—because it's from this beautiful chaos that your story will find its true voice.

Kelly Norwood-Young is a seasoned book editor and proofreader with comprehensive experience across various facets of manuscript editing. Her background includes roles at Pan Macmillan and Penguin Books, extending into a successful freelance career working with award-winning authors. Kelly's work, known for its precision and sensitivity to the author's voice, has been integral to the success of both new and established writers globally.

Try out First Draft Pro: All NaNoWriMo participants can use the discount code NANOWRIMO2023 for 20% off a premium subscription to First Draft Pro! Offer expires January 31, 2024.

#nanowrimo #writing #first draft #writing advice #by nano sponsor #first draft pro #kelly norwood-young #plot #planning

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 2 months

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Randomly thinking about “tolerate it” (narrator voice: it was not random) and how under the cloak of fiction it is ostensibly inspired by works like “Rebecca” (which Taylor said she read during the 2020 lockdowns I believe?), with the line of “you’re so much older and wiser” indicating that the speaker is significantly younger and inexperienced compared to the person she’s speaking to and a pretty direct reference to the plot of the book.

But I saw something somewhere once that stuck with me about how it might not be referring to relative age between the characters but chronological age as in the passage of time in a relationship. And that made me think about how in a contemporary context, it might not necessarily be referencing an actual age gap between the two characters, but rather a sarcastic or cynical response to the man’s claims that he has matured (“you’re so much older and wiser [than you were before/than you were when we met/etc.]”), which then made me think about that line in relation to the woman. And that it could be taken like, “you act like you’ve matured so much in our time together and like you know everything, while I’m supposedly still stuck as the girl I was when we first met.”

Which then made me think of the “right where you left me” of it all and did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen time went on for everyone else she won’t know it and the bit in Miss Americana where she talks about how celebrities get frozen at the age at which they got famous, and how she’s had to play catch up in a lot of ways not just in her emotional growth but kind of in general. (Which also made me wonder if she’s ever been called out for immaturity/lack of curiosity/lack of education about things in her life…)

Which then made me think about the rest of the song, and @taylortruther’s posts yesterday about “seven” and “Daylight” and the way Taylor idealizes her youth yet contrasts it with an almost sinister reality in its wake, and the line, “I sit by the door like I’m just a kid,” because the discussion raised that her relationship let her recapture some of the childlike joy and wonder she’d lost. So this line is a double-edged sword: the speaker sits by the door with childlike hope that the person will come home and cherish her, but on the darker side, feels like the child dealing with the monsters she doesn’t have names for yet and the feelings of isolation she felt as she aged.

I’m not saying the song is necessarily autobiographical; like most of the songs on folkmore, it’s clearly a fictionalized story based on media she’d consumed and created, but we know a lot of the fictional songs were infused with her own feelings and experiences and… This idea swirling in my head picked up steam and now I kind of can’t stop thinking about it. Sorry but I’m a little obsessed now.

Like maybe it might start to shed light on why she identified so strongly with the novel in the first place…

#the third eye has been opened #😵‍💫#like tolerate it was always a difficult song #even when we learned it was based on Rebecca it obviously took on new meaning post-joever #and especially in light of ttpd #but the thought spiral i went on last night when i started thinking about all these connections #and the evermore of it all #I’m Charlie at the conspiracy board again #writing letters addressed to the fire #me thinking too hard about Taylor lyrics #evermore my beloved #tolerate it #i kinda gave myself the ick with all this 😵‍💫#because of the ttpd of it all coming up #and i feel like i remember interviews where Taylor said joe was so well-read especially about like world events and politics and stuff #and supported her when she wanted to start speaking up (not getting into that)#but just based on ~vibes now I wonder if that was like a sore point too at some point #which again i have no proof of but just like… experience with pretentious millennial art bros lol #oh man oh man oh man #this feels like some sort of huge revelation at 1:00 am #when i started writing this lol #eta: when I queued this in the middle of the night i didn't see all the excellent discussion about the seven/folklore posts #so all of you who have been posting about them this morning consider yourselves tagged too!

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thepunkmuppet · 7 months

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I have spent so much time thinking about the miss holloway musical WHICH THEY HAVE ALREADY WRITTEN and I need to spill my thoughts about it

there is no point or end to this it’s just a brain fart of all the thoughts I’ve been having so enjoy I guess lmfao

“backstory”. it will be about her backstory. was she an 80’s music star who sold her mortal life for fame in a deal that backfired on her?? or was she a woman with the gift about to be hanged by the hatchet men who saved herself by making that same deal?? HOW FAR BACK DOES THIS GO IS WHAT IM ASKING WE KNOW FUCK ALL ABOUT THIS WOMAN

if it’s the former, I would love to maybe have mariah as casey (the girl with the gift in the witchwood who asked for her autograph) be an actual character who holloway maybe tries to help. also kim singing 80’s songs fuck yeah

and if it’s the latter then,,, oh wow. some heavy musical numbers, a shitload of hatchetmen / church of the starry children lore, and maybe another form of the lords in black (maybe the creepy hooded figures that we see drawn in the black book???)

also sorry EDIT I just looked at this picture again and the middle one (probably wiggly) is holding a knife. there’s no fucking way that’s not the black blade this is absolutely miss holloway guys omggggg

I would love to see this scene on stage with kim!!!! this would make 5 different forms of the LIB that we’ve seen / heard about (dolls, teens / humans, their true forms, wiggly in made in america, and whatever this is). I’m just imagining you see these black hooded figures, and then in the pro-shot you get a good look inside their hoods… and their faces are NOT human. like just imagine a massive purple eye staring out of one of those hoods, maybe even moving and blinking, a cool animatronic thing. SO CREEPY!! I also love the idea of switching up the actors again - I love jon so much as wiggly and I don’t think they would change him bc of his voice, but with the rest of them I think any actor can play a LIB which opens up so many possibilities…

I also would love to know how miss holloway met duke, and potentially even how many times they have met and then he had to forget her. considering the fact that we now have weird lore about his dad in 2005, did she know duke when he was younger?? did she help him out when he was a teenager, or help his dad?? is it a family thing, like she’s vowed to watch over the keane family or something??

duke’s dad is a big part of this tbh, because what a random insane lore / backstory drop, like WHAT? I genuinely have no idea what douglas keane sr’s murder could be about, except that it ties in to duke and to wilbur. and shows that 2005 is SO DAMN IMPORTANT

2005 was the year hannah was born, the year the portal to the black and white was created, the year wilbur cross went insane and became a disciple of the LIB, the year miss holloway took on the mantle of “miss holloway”, and (very likely) the year miss holloway and wilbur fought. so i think it’s safe to say that the musical itself will be set in 2005, which to me means macnamara and wilbur backstory alongside holloway and duke, which is very very fun

I like the idea that wilbur and macnamara were canonically together, and I really want to see pre-LIB wilbur. I also love the idea of macnamara and holloway working together or even becoming friends - despite being set a decade and a half before nightmare time, it would feel like the culmination of the two hanging plot threads / overarching arcs to me. also the idea that it was holloway who introduced macnamara to the paranormal and therefore essentially set up PEIP and doomed wiley is some juicy stuff that I would LOVE to see, especially if either macnamara or wiley lived in hatchetfield as kids and miss holloway helped them, inspiring whichever one of them to set up PEIP

ok so leading off of that I have a clear vision of a potential final scene that is driving me insane, and that’s the main reason why I patched together this post.

the final scene is the fight between miss holloway and wilbur, the one that happens in every single timeline.

and the basic idea is that we see both fights at once. there’s a song, and the stage is like black friday and spies are forever, with a level above the stage the actors can walk up to and stand on. joey and kim sing, and do their bit on the stage, but above the stage there are either doubles or a projection, mirroring the choreography. only in the pro-shot version, they would splice in joey and kim playing both pairs, which I just think would turn out looking really awesome despite being tricky to pull off live.

and yeah basically at the exact same time, one wilbur stabs holloway, and the other holloway stabs wilbur, creating a gorgeous visual representation of the newly splintered timelines.

either that or they do a trail to oregon and just do a different ending each night, and then splice them together in the pro-shot like I was saying. but I personally prefer the first one, if they’re able to pull it off and make it look good

and duke shows up just after that, having followed miss holloway throughout the story so far. and in the universe where wilbur’s dead, miss holloway makes him forget it all, hence this being the year that she takes on the new name and the fact that we know he has forgotten about her / her true past before. and then in the universe where holloway is dead, he holds her as she dies in his arms. bonus points if we get dying holloway saying “please don’t forget me” and living holloway saying “you have to forget me”. oh and just to be cruel, both dukes saying “I could never forget you” at the same time :) stew on that for a bit. yeah. fuck you I guess lol I woke up and chose violence today apparently

the idea of the two of them finding each other again after that in some timelines is just gorgeous to me, especially given the fact that NMT3 seems to suggest them finding each other AGAIN after she needs to make him forget. truly star crossed lovers they are so insane for this

in summary I guess what I’m trying to say is I think it will include miss holloway’s full backstory and then be mostly set in 2005, and centre around the opening of the black and white portal (macnamara and wilbur), miss holloway meeting duke (wilbur murdering duke’s dad, possibly something with lex and hannah if duke was already a social worker) and eventually the big fight between holloway and wilbur, ending in the audience seeing both potential endings. also obviously a reference to hannah’s birth because that seemed to be some kind of catalyst. thank you for coming to my utterly deranged ted talk goodbye

#anyway yeah that’s my two cents lmk what you think please please please!!!!#the idea of the holloway musical is keeping me up at night it’s literally all I can think about #miss holloway #duke keane #douglas keane #wilbur cross #uncle wiley #general macnamara #general john macnamara #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #hatchetfield universe #lords in black #nightmare time #nmt #starkid #team starkid #starkid productions

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dduane · 10 months

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The Novel as Cake

I was reading through the 'writing' tag on your blog, and came across your wonderful post about how you outline your novels using Cherryh's 'Shopping List' technique. My question is - how do you decide/come up with the 10 things in the novel? I have about 3-4 things I know must happen in my idea, and other random details about the world. But what is important enough to be one of the 10 things? And also, how do you generate your ideas for those 10 things? - Asked by Anonymous

…Okay, let’s take this from the top. (And for convenience’s sake, let’s stay in the shopping-list idiom; it’s useful enough.) (ETA: the blog entry that discusses the Shopping List outlining method is here.)

Let’s say you want to make a cake. …This cake also being your novel.

To have a solid story (in the western-novel tradition, anyway), you need at least two things: plot and theme. The plot is what happens. The theme is the why of what happens, and (to a certain extent) the book-wide spectrum of thought and emotion that underlies that; the answer to the question “But what’s the book about?”* …Think of this duality, for the moment, as the equivalent of having both liquid and solid stuff in your cake. You’ve got to have both or it won’t rise. A book with a plot but no theme has no soul.

So: you’re going to make a cake. What kind?

As an example, I’m going to ease myself out onto a limb here and equate “chocolate-chip devil’s food with chocolate buttercream frosting” with “epic-fantasy quest fiction with strong political, exoreligious, and quasiromantic components.” (A favorite for me, over time, as some folks will have noticed. I just can’t get enough of those chocolate chips…)

So how do you determine the ten things you need (or whatever number you like, but ten works for me) as major ingredients / sections?

Well, ideally from some familiarity with what has gone in other/similar cakes/works of fiction in the past: because (in genre fiction, anyway) you have at least some reader expectations to manage. If you haven’t been reading in your chosen genre, you really should be. ...Now, this doesn’t mean you have to do what other people working in the genre have done. Indeed, at all times you remain at liberty to “flip the punchcard” and do exactly the opposite of what everybody else has been doing, if that’s what suits you. But they’ve set out possible recipes for you, so (as a beginner at this work) it'd seem wise to examine those recipes and see what’s in them that might be useful for you. Once you’ve been doing this for a while, you don’t need to go looking, just as an experienced baker doesn’t need to run for the recipe book every time they want to make a cake.

Naturally you can substitute ingredients, add some or lose some, when you’re creating something new; just as you like—while always making sure you don’t throw away anything routinely required/expected in your genre. (Such as, for example, the Happily Ever After at the end of a genre romance.) But certain basics must be in place, things that make what you’re creating recognizably A Cake, as well as your own additions and embellishments.

In this case, that could be:

For a cake: flour, milk, eggs, butter, baking powder, cocoa, chocolate chips, vanilla extract, seasonings, a little bit of salt (because without that, even the sweetest cake tastes just a little insipid somehow)

For a novel: a protagonist/pairtagonist (is that a word? It is now…); an antagonist (not necessarily a character: an antagonistic or stymie-ing situation that keeps the antagonist from easily getting what they want/need will do just as well. This is where at least some of the interior drama will derive from); a change in interior or exterior conditions that sets events in motion; a “ticking clock” or similar construct that means the desired result must be achieved within a certain time or before certain conditions change or expire; various reversals or hiccups in the flow of the story that will inject a sense of realism (because when does anything ever go perfectly smoothly…?); a crisis point at which everything assembled against the protagonist rises up to be dealt with, and the protagonist rises up to meet the challenge and deal with it; and finally, a set of resolution events that (even if it doesn’t absolutely finish the story proper) brings about an end state that will leave you, and any theoretical reader, satisfied with the completion of the current story arc.

…Needless to say, this is an incredibly oversimplified take on the kind of strategizing needed when you’re creating the recipe for a novel that won’t simply collapse the minute you take it out of the oven. But starting simply is often best. The more you do this kind of work, the easier it gets.

Now: “How do you generate your ideas for those 10 things?”

There are a lot of possible answers to this, but the simplest is: Make them up out of nothing, as usual. :)

…This isn’t meant to sound like sass. You made up those first three or four things you came up with out of nothing, and now (because they’ve been there for a while, probably) they may well have started to acquire a kind of secret, temporally-based superiority in your mind—starting to feel somehow more valid than what needs to come next to fill in the gaps. This kind of creeping sense of validity-via-temporal-primacy is a commonplace when you’re in mid-process, and I invite you to ignore it.

Just insert those three or four things into your shopping list in (roughly) story-temporal order, and then spend some time thinking about what kinds of events could usefully come between / flow from them. Hints:

Events that could realistically have been caused by the ones you’ve got already, and could also realistically be seen as causal to later ones you’ve already established, are always useful. Ideally, you’re trying to establish a chain of events in which none of them look accidental, or coincidental (because readers are rightfully sensitive to plots that only work because all the characters are idiots, or keep having “lucky accidents”). What you’re working toward is an event flow that seems, when viewed in completion, inevitable: as if it couldn’t have happened any other way. You will almost certainly not achieve this easily, early on in your novel work, and maybe not at all. But it strikes me as a good thing to be striving for.

Events that badly screw things up for the main characters are also always useful. Heroes do not become heroes by having everything go their way. Their heroism is achieved and manifested by having things go to shit around them again and again and AGAIN, and nonetheless still finding their way through all that shit to do what needs to be done. The lines attributed to the Confucianist philosopher Meng-tse (sometimes translated from Japanese into English as “Mōshi”) are a touchstone in this regard:

When Heaven is about to confer a great office upon a man, it first exercises his mind with suffering and his sinews and bones with toil: it exposes him to poverty and confounds all his undertakings. Then it is seen if he is ready.

So put your protagonists through the wringer. This is the greatest service you can do them: showing who they are by showing what they're made of.

A variant on this theme: Spend a little time thinking, “What is the absolute worst thing that could happen to these characters in this story / in this world?” And when you’ve figured that out, stick it into one of those gaps as a Main Thing—ideally one between the story’s midpoint and its already-planned crisis, if you’ve got that in place—and then start thinking about how to best exploit it to show how terrific your characters can become if you kick them around a bit. (Addendum: you are allowed to have one Absolutely Terrific and Beautiful Thing happen to assist your characters in recovering from this awfulness. Because they deserve it; but also, all invented worlds [if you ask me] should have beautiful things in them—things to long for, things that make your reader wish they could live there. And that you find beautiful, and worth returning to. You are absolutely allowed to keep yourself entertained, and emotionally refreshed, while you’re creating.)

…Anyway, take your time about getting those gaps filled in. It may take a little while: laying down basic story structure is worth not rushing, if you can avoid it. Once you’ve got everything major in place, the secondary lists will follow more easily.

HTH!

*This is a hilarious oversimplification, but my job at the moment is not (as the saying goes) to explain the workings of the entire universe while standing on one foot. :)

#writing #outlining #the Shopping List #how-to #suggestions #writing process #themes

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feathernotes · 10 months

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Hello! My name is Krispy, and I’m the co-creator of the webcomic Ghost Junk Sickness (along with @spacerocketbunny) It's story time!

GJS is a webcomic published by Hiveworks and features two bounty hunters with an unstable dynamic who are pushed to pursue the deadly bounty dubbed the Ghost The current iteration of GJS is about 9 years old (and wrapping up next year!) It’s been an incredible journey full of ups and downs. We’ve learned SO MUCH creating this comic, and I wanted to share some of it’s origins with you all in hopes of inspiring more folks to take chances, make mistakes, and get messy- and make that comic!

The origin of Ghost Junk Sickness came from our love for Magic Knight Rayearth and Final Fantasy 7. Vahn, the protagonist of GJS, was basically a mash up of Hikaru and Cloud from those two series. The very first version of this story has unfortunately been destroyed, and this map is the only piece I have left of that world. Character art still exists though, and it was pretty funny to see how obvious we were with our inspirations at the time.

The original attempt at the story was called Crew, and my sister Space and I worked on it in 2002-2004. We sort of got lost in our own ideas after that, and weren’t as focus on making the comic (now lost). A few years later, I decided to try my hand at it and it looked like this:

This was all done on low quality paper, whichever I could find at the time and some pencil crayons. This attempt was over 600 pages long and had a pretty random story plot, much like the first version. I could not tell you what it was about haha 😅

My second attempt (then called Divine Ace) I wanted to look more 'traditional manga' and kept with just inks and tried my darndest to tone on the computer (it never worked out). This one lasted over 400 pages, and was more allinged with my liking to edgy action anime and games at the time. It was also Trigger's first appearance!

After experimenting and eventually wanting to change- I started to work with Space again, and we collaborated in full on our first fancomic for TF2 called "Be Efficient, Be Polite." It was a good lesson on how we could coordinate our shared skill sets and plan out who did what as far as the whole process of comics go.

All of these comics (save for the very first lost version) were hosted on DA the day we got our hands on a scanner. It was our first taste on being 'webcomic creators' back in the day, and it was very fun! We didn't much care for readers, only the process of completion at the time, so a page done was always a victory worthy to be celebrated (and back then, we had more time to make pages!)

And so, as the years went by and we decided to move on from our fandom roots, Space and I went back to the Crew/Divine Ace project and redesigned and overhauled the entirety of it. (You can see the full evolution here) We wanted to re-asses what the story, comic, and characters meant to us, and how we could convey some pretty important ideas and concepts to our potential readers. From that, Ghost Junk Sickness was born, and began pre-production in 2013.

Years after, we find ourselves reflecting on how much we've learned from the process of going ahead and diving in head first. There were certainly many iterations and years it took to get where we are today, but realising that it all began that day Space and I decided to scribble some pretty mediocire comics in our homework books and papers. Because that is the beauty of comics- The many skill sets, the hats, and challenges that come along with creating them. And how much we've become better at so many things along the way. So if you read this and feel nervous about diving head first into your first comic, I'm here to re-assure you that things will feel tough, but exciting. Things will feel really hard but amazing when you're getting your story out in front of you with such an incredible medium. Webcomics will always be my favourite because of how accessible it is to any skill set. And know in your heart of hearts that there ARE people out that that LOVE to see growth, they love to see the progression of your journey. So get out there and start creating that comic that's occupied your brain for so long, and start breathing that life into your OCs and your world. The only way is up with webcomics, and the only way to start is just by creating now.

#webcomics #webcomic #ghost junk sickness #hiveworks #feathernotes #me talking

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crowdsourced-webcomic-reviews · 4 months

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Ggdg is a famous face in webcomics, and a few other mediums too. The artist and brain behind works such as Lady of the Shard, Idle Divination, Undyne’s banging outfit on her date in Undertale and countless other contributions to UTDR, and their most recent hit Soul of Sovereignity (soulsov real 2023!)—but they got their start with original storytelling through the much beloved Cucumber Quest:

Narrative wise, Cucumber Quest is as the requester for this review put it about “bunny kids going on a quest to save the world”. Like a lot of ggdg’s work, CuQu is steeped in their love of JRPGs, and there’s an undeniable touch of JRPG flavour in the plot.

The comic opens with our antagonist having acquired the seventh of their eight macguffins required to summon the big bad, and later our heroes must re-collect these macguffins and fight all the disaster masters they’re associated with, and defeat the evil Nightmare Knight!!!

Cucumber Quest is a comedy and a parody of fantasy video games, but it does all this from a place of sincere love and joy. I’m confident if you asked ggdg if they they thought all the incredibly clunky, tonally dissonant kingdom hearts cutscenes with michael rat talking about the heart of the darkness to cloud final fantasy or whatever were “cringe”, they’d say “are you kidding me they fucking rule”.

Cucumber Quest is filled with jokes, but it’s never meanspirited. It pokes fun at the trappings of fantasy video games, and as it does, it goes “but that’s why we love them so much!”

It’s not all jokes though, there’s a sincere heart at the core of CuQu. Ggdg loves their characters through and through, and the story loves them too. While the setup of the story might suggest a simplistic angle of good-vs-evil like a lot of video games, it is very quickly revealed that this story is anything but. The biggest heart of the story is the Nightmare Knight himself:

The truth of his motives and why any of this is even happening, whether or not our heroes will find out the truth and break the cycle, or if everything will continue as it always has are the crux of the plot. But to hear more about that, you need to read it for yourself!! If you like sad dads though, this is The comic for you.

You’ve probably noticed by now also, the use of colour in CuQu is absolutely stunning. Everything from their big set piece atmospheric pages with deep, powerful emotions seeping from every panel as they use limited colours to create a specific mood, to the individual panels of their lighthearted pages—ggdg has a masterful control over colour and mood. The entire comic is just a visual delight, and you can pick any random page in the archive and be provided with a treat for the eyes.

Cucumber Quest it should be noted is an incomplete story. Though not wholly abandoned, it last updated in 2019. Since then, ggdg has been busy focusing on other projects—the newly released soulsov is one such project. One day, perhaps after soulsov’s conclusion, perhaps earlier, perhaps later, ggdg intends to return and wrap up the remainder of CuQu via a series of scripts and illustrations.

It was a story a bit too big for its breeches if you will: after almost a decade of work it was nowhere near reaching its conclusion, and understandably ggdg needed a break.

Nonetheless, what exists is a wonderful heartfelt story and visual delight that deserves a read and the patient wait for its conclusion some day ❤

#submission #review #thank you for submitting !!#cucumber quest

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 28 days

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The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 4

ANOTHER CHAPTER IN LESS THAN A WEEK. BRING ON THE GRINDDDDDD. I will warn that my motiviation for each of my fics comes in waves, so you'll probably get chapters in random chunks ngl. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 4590

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

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Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

PART 1: Chapter 4

Unconditional Violence.

Bambsquabbled (Definition): A 19th Century American slang word essentially meaning stupefied or confounded. (Adjective)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 18th December, 1929.

You had expected the additional Tuesday Mr LeBlanc had given you off to prepare yourself for the radio company to consist of you sleeping in until 11am. But dreams are short lived when you have an aunt who insists the ass-crack of dawn is prime time for everything.

You guessed it was fun to climb onto the roof of your relative’s vast home to collect the crystals you had both put out under the full moon, before the energy given to them was whisked away by the rays of the early golden hour. But when nerves settle in like the green spirals of nausea the night before, sleep takes the hand of another, leaving you to lay there with your over-active mind as it drags you through every possibility and event that could end up with you looking like an idiot in front of your new colleagues, or worse. Can’t think of much worse. But the universe will find a way.

It always does.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, it was barely 6am and you already couldn’t wait for it to be over. Your cousins had found you curled up on the bench swing, having dragged your duvet outside as you balled yourself up like a worm, sipping on the iced tea Agnes had bought you the day before in an attempt to settle your nerves. It did. A little.

And now here you were, the first half of your new workday having gone as smoothly as your awkward self could do.

Ethel, who’s desk was closest to yours, had dubbed you the quiet one after spending an hour running her mouth at you with barely a break for you to chime in. You had also already created quite a commotion on the third floor, a few people intrigued by the new ‘foreigner’. Well – as foreign as you can get when you’re from another English-speaking country, in the biggest cultural melting pot of a city had ever seen in your rural life. But they found you interesting enough.

The oddest thing you had experienced that day, however, was a strange request from your new boss – Mr Durham himself.

“I don’t suppose you know how to pull off a local accent?” he had asked when showing you the phone on your desk.

All you could do was blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

He gestured to the phone. “Since you’re my assistant, you’re gonna be filtering through the calls I get before passing them onto me. Now, there might be an issue if someone calls expecting to hear me, but instead find themselves speaking to a British girl on the other end. Some can be impatient and might end up putting the phone down before you explain.”

Memories of that one very unpleasant phone call flooded your mind. “Even if I answer: ‘Hello W.A.D Radio, this is Mr Durham’s assistant speaking’??” you replied monotonously.

“You’d be surprised.” He sighed. “But do you know how to anyway?”

Frowning, you recalled your time in the cities further in the North. “I guess..? A girl I rented a room from in New York insisted on teaching me for when we went into town, but I struggle to see how it’s important?”

The man put his hands together, pointing them at you in a prayer motion. “Just.. try it out? Talk like your colleagues when you see them, to see if you can get a hang of it – I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. Please?”

You gave him a wavering look, but sighed, finally giving in. “Fine, but they can’t make fun of me.”

He beamed, patting you on the back in satisfaction. “I’m sure they won’t! I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

And with that, you sat in your new chair, trying to pointedly ignore the sign at the other end of the room that pointed you to the fifth floor, and began your attempt to settle in.

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 8th January, 1930.

There wasn’t much to celebrate when the new decade rolled around. Gone were the so-called ‘Roaring Twenties’, when you would join your parents at the parties and balls they were invited to – when it was acceptable, of course; those higher up in the class hierarchy still grasped to the dwindling standard that children should be seen, not heard. The year you turned eighteen ended up being quite interesting, when the older women who had turned snooty at the sight of your teenage self wandering around their stately homes, tried to attempt a 180°, as they congratulated you reaching adulthood with strained smiles. But you paid them no mind, too busy staring at the paintings or statues that lined their corridors – a stark contrast to the more barren and plain wallpaper that coated the walls you grew up in.

But now that was far behind you, the English garden parties in the spring and summer that you adored so much were now a mere echo in the distances of your mind. The noises of tiny forks clinking on fine china as the little birds twittered in the trees now replaced by the sputtering and groaning of automobiles as you gripped the pole of the tram, your arms tight against your chest as you tried your best to not let the swaying of the vehicle toss you about into the crowd of packed bodies around you.

Making sure the scarf was tucked safely around your neck, you grasped the small briefcase in your hand – mentally preparing yourself for you first day back at the radio station after the new year. Unfortunately for Mr Durham, a small hurricane had passed over during the holiday, and radio stations across the city were temporarily silenced as their mechanics desperately attempted to repair the damaged towers. And also unfortunately for you, only the hosts were offered a couple days off as things got back up and running, though some still showed to prepare for their shows; you, on the other hand, were still expected to show up like any other day.

So here you were, pushing open the (now familiar) double doors, giving a small wave to the receptionist, who’s name turned out to be Diana, and the woman barely raised her hand in response as she continued to tiredly shift through the concerningly large stack of papers on her desk.

You were just about to climb the wide staircase when you heard her call your name (something you were very surprised she knew, considering her tendency to ‘accidentally’ throw paperwork in the bin on the daily), and your wedge heels clacked against the tile flooring as you stumbled slightly, turning to face her as her nasally voice echoed around the large lobby.

“It’s best you stay in the shadows today.” She warned cryptically. “Trouble’s in, and the mechanic’s not happy about the damages – Durham’s getting the brunt of it, but you’ll end up in the crossfire unless you hide out during breaktimes.”

All you could do for a moment was stand and stare, a million thoughts running through your mind. Mostly about who ‘Trouble’ was, and why Diana thought you couldn’t handle the guy and the other mechanic. You did handle the radio man at the repair shop after all, and speaking of the radio, you were quite proud to say you had finished the it in time for Christmas, and had shipped it off with a very passive-aggressive note that hinted for the man to basically never return. Luckily, Mr Boudreaux hadn’t replied to any of your letters since you had begrudgingly accepted the object, but you had suspected he had called the shop once or twice, and you had left Mr LeBlanc to deal with it, mostly because he was quite terrified you would call another customer every name under the sun the second they tried to give you trouble.

Glancing back and forth between Diana and the stairs, you mumbled a slow “Oookay…” before nodding your head and turning on your heel to hurry up the steps. Reaching the third floor, you didn’t stop in your path as you neared your desk, instead dropping your briefcase onto the wooden surface as you dashed by, striding towards the door that had the golden plaque engraved with ‘Mr B. Durham’ onto it. Grasping the handle, you turned the knob, swinging the door open, only to stop in your tracks as you were met with a very empty office.

You frowned. It must be really bad if your boss was no where to be seen. Whipping around, you scanned the main room for him, but only saw a few of your colleagues, the rest still yet to arrive – you were normally expected to be in early to handle Durham’s work as soon as he began.

Throwing your coat and scarf on your chair, you strode back towards the stairs, readjusting the suspenders of your wide-legged trousers as you practically jogged up the steps, and ended up rolling the sleeves of your loose blouse to your elbows as you tried to catch your breath.

On the fourth floor, you spent a couple minutes checking all of your boss’s usual haunts or hiding places, even going as far as interrogating a couple of the workers there for his whereabouts. It wasn’t until some blonde guy that came wandering down the steps from the fifth floor that you got your answer, the man looking up to take in your slightly dishevelled and feral appearance with wide eyes as he stammered out that he was in one of the radio booths. To his further horror, you patted him on the cheek with a thanks as you rounded him, ready to take another flight of stairs to reach your – apparently – floundering boss.

Ignoring the embarrassed sputtering of the man behind you, you eye the sign nailed to the wall, the painted hand pointing upwards with a very bold ‘FIFTH FLOOR’ next to it.

“Don’t go up there until I say you’re ready, okay?” Mr Durham’s words echoed through your mind.

Buuuuut, he did say he wanted to discuss the stuff you brought in your briefcase ASAP.

Yea that’ll be your excuse. You can deal with his complaining later.

Reaching your heel-clad foot out, you took the first step, almost like you were expecting an axe to come swing down and impale your forehead. But when nothing happened, you shrugged, and simply continued up.

Recalling the path your boss had taken you on during the initial tour, you managed to find the dreaded corridor that supposedly housed your greatest nightmare.

Extroverted people.

Yeesh.

At that thought, you did consider turning around, but your urge to drag your boss’s arse back downstairs drowned that thought out, and you carried on.

Surprisingly, it was quiet, but at the same time not so much when you remembered that most of them were plating their somewhat wealthy behinds on their armchairs at home as the rest tried to fix the issues of the storm.

Reaching one of the lit rooms, you heard raised voices.

“–really expect me to know? –” “– supposed to be on in an hour! How is that –”

Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to try and witness the potential fiasco. And what a fiasco it was.

Wires, cables, and any other random parts that were used for radio technology were strewn across desks, tables and even the floor. Amongst these were two men, and there was only one you recognised.

Just like you had seen him every day for the past month, Mr Durham was stood in his washed-out blue suit and concerningly shiny shoes, and at this point one hand was on his hip, whilst the other rubbed tiredly at his face as whom you assume was the mechanic, was blabbering the poor man’s ear off as he ranted on and on about random parts and problems and he gestured frantically at said random parts and problems. Wait – nevermind, you recognised one and a half.

The man from across the street was here, with his back to you. Again. For fuck’s sake.

This time he was back in the seat you first saw him in, this time with a few strands of dark-brown hair out of place, curling slightly as if to rebel against the intense styling he had put it through. Peeking your head out slightly further, you managed to get a good look at him.

Well for one, he was a triangle. Stupidly broad shoulders that narrowed into a stupidly small waist (triangle), with lanky legs long enough that you could probably chop them off and fashion them into skis. Despite his face not revealed, you could see the semi-light tan on his hands, that were busy turning knobs and dials as he listened in to whatever was coming through the headphones on his head. He was dressed to impress, to say the least, in smart, dark-grey trousers, who’s ironed out edges looked as if they could slice through skin. His high collared cream shirt was tucked away under a relatively tight looking reddish-tan waistcoat, and to top it all off, you could see the back of the black ribbon that was most likely tied in a stupidly even bow.

You didn’t want this guy to sense your staring, so you opted to look back at the other two men who were still chuntering on about god knows what. Stepping into the light that flooded through the glass, you wave slightly to try and get your boss’s attention. A couple seconds passed, and you watched as the mechanic kept glancing at you and Mr Durham, until eventually he nudged the other man on the shoulder, pointing you out.

Turning his head, Mr Durham’s eyes met with yours, and you raised your hand with a questionable thumbs up to see if all was good, only to watch in slight confusion as his eyes widened, and he whipped his head rapidly between you and the faceless man sat at his desk, before marching over to the door and pulling it open a crack, sticking his head out.

“Hey uh,” he half-whispered, surprisingly nervous at your presence. “what’re you doing here?”

You lowered your voice to match his. “You said to come find you as soon as possible this morning, you know, to go over those statistics from that other station?”

Realisation dawned on the man’s face, and he reached up to drag his hand down the side of it. “Shit I forgot,” he cursed, and glanced over his shoulder before facing you again. “I’ll – uh… I’ll be down as soon as I get this sorted. Marty’s givin’ me a run for his money right now and the second Al takes his headphones off I’m gonna feel like I’m entering an early grave.”

Surprised, you eyed the man sat at the desk, who looked far too calm to be threatening anyone right now. “Ok… I guess it can wait. I’ll bring you some coffee up!” you chirped, and Durham went to call out that it wasn’t necessary, but faltered with a frown as he realised you were already halfway down the corridor.

Balancing the tray of cups and steaming jug the best you could, you reached the final step, retracing your route to the radio booth that your boss was probably getting murdered in. Walking up, you waited patiently until Mr Durham noticed you, and watched as he reluctantly trudged over to open the door.

Taking your first step in, you were hit with the very potent smell of strong black coffee, as if someone had some brewing every day, and you figured you had made the right call of fetching the same beverage as you placed the tray down on one of the tables.

The mechanic was still going off on one, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as you slowly began pouring the coffee into the cups, listening to the greasy-looking man speak.

“– there’s literally no reason that I can find that’s causing the local outage!” he spouted at your frowning boss. “The boys have already fixed the aerial, and David’s currently on-air and that’s working perfectly fine, so it has to be something in this room!”

During the man’s tirade, you noticed the rustling of papers, and looked over to see the faceless man again, still at his desk, but his hands were fiddling with no purpose, and his head was turned to the left slightly, showing his high cheekbone and the edge of his thin circular glasses.

Looked like someone else was listening in too.

Biting your smile down, you turned back towards the cups in your hand, only to have a glint of light pierce the corner of your eye, and you looked in the opposite direction to a large wooden box, with one of the panels removed, displaying the endless wires and springs that coiled and wound in every direction. But you weren’t looking at that, you were instead looking at the screwdriver that was very prominently glinting in the shine of the ceiling light. This must be the painstakingly obvious problem that the mechanic had painstakingly missed.

Giving a quick glance over at the men, you waited until they faced away, scrapping about the wire pile on the floor, and you reached for the wooden teaspoon on your tray, and inched towards the box. Knowing wood doesn’t normally conduct electricity, you raised your hand, testing it anyway against the hanging wires to see if they were live. Seemingly not, you stuck your hand further in, and began nudging at the tool, slowly loosening the wires around it as you dragged it along the bottom of the box.

When they had deemed your silence as suspicious, the mechanic and Durham turned round, only to see you elbow deep in some very expensive equipment.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” the mechanic cried as he rushed over. “The hell are you doin’??”

Instead of jerking your arm back out and apologising to the man who was slowly turning purple, you gave the screwdriver one last flick, and the three of you watched as it dropped over the edge and fell to the floor with a clatter. Moments of silence passed as you all stared at it, until you decided to explain.

“It was tangled in the wires, which would’ve prevented the electricity flow,” you said plainly. “Plus, if you had tried to power it all up, it could’ve set the place on fire.”

All the mechanic could do was stare down at the tool, but Mr Durham had decided to approach, and bent down to pick up the tool.

“Nice one.” He complimented, turning the object in his hands. Though the warm smile he had put on for you quickly vanished, as his eyes set upon the name engraved on the wooden handle. He pointed at it. “This has your name on it Marty.” He said lowly, his blue eyes turning dark as he regarded the paling man with a look of thunder.

Seeing the outcome, you gestured nervously to the beverages on the table. “Coffee’s there, Mr Durham, I’ll see you downstairs.”

Just as you walked around him, he called your name. “Take ten minutes to yourself and grab some tea, whilst I deal with Marty here.”

Nodding, you curtly took your leave, swinging the door open as you power-walked out, failing to see the sharp pair of eyes following you from where they were sat at the desk.

You found the break room housed several curiosities that you were yet to explore in America. Apart from the atrocious fact that the tea station lacked the Yorkshire brand, you found yourself poking at what they called a teabag. Yes, surprise, surprise, the Americans invented something tea related before England or even China did, but you had to admit it was rather useful in helping you not gag at the slimy tea leaves that sat at the bottom of most of your beloved brews.

With the table to your right, you leant your hip against it, your back against the door as you rather noisily mixed the spoon around your large mug, making sure the sugar was dissolved properly before you went to strain the teabag. Lifting it carefully out of the boiling water, you gingerly held your other hand out below it to catch any stray drips from hitting the floor, scanning the room in front of you for a bin that you could chuck it into.

What you foolishly had failed to do however, was hear the footsteps that grew in volume from behind, and you hadn’t realised anything until a very uncomfortable prickle hit the side of your neck, as a very unwanted presence loomed over you. Though, that didn’t last long, as the presence decided to deafen you instead.

“So YOU’RE the new assistant!”

A banshee screech raised from your throat, the teabag flying through the air and onto the floor by your feet as you basically jumped three feet up. Instinctively, however, you didn’t realise what was happening until one elbow flew upwards, slamming into the nose of the man behind you, the other flying round to collide with his ribs. Teaspoon armed in hand, you spun around to face your assailant, only to step on the soggy teabag that was still on the floor, and you cried out again as you slipped and slammed into a very firm chest. Eyes screwed shut, you felt the two of you fall, though quickly broken by the table behind you.

Relieved that you were no longer falling, you swiftly blinked your eyes open, your dark brown ones meeting a pair of equally matching brown. Moments passed as you took in the scene in front of you, and you realised you finally had a face to put to the lanky man from earlier.

Said man was groaning as he rubbed at his nose, his lips twisted into a grimace as he checked for blood. What you noticed however, was the several poignant glances the man took to your right, and you followed, only to see you hand raised, teaspoon in hand, pointing down at him as if you had a machete, ready to stab the lights out of him.

A small gasp left your throat at the realisation, and you quickly pushed yourself off, pointedly ignoring the grunt the man let out as you knocked at his ribs. Taking several steps back, you distanced yourself from him. He had gotten close before, he wasn’t about to do so again.

You watched as he pushed himself up on his elbows, using the table as a support as he stood. To a disturbingly tall height might you add. Looks like you did just reach his nose after all.

“I’m uh,” you started as you eyed him, teaspoon machete still in hand, strangely, you instinctively used the southern accent you learnt – it was the one you used with strangers. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to sneak up on me like that.” Reaching over, you snatched up a napkin, offering it to him. “Y’haven’t got anything…?”

Dark eyes flitting between you and the outstretched napkin offering, you watched as something seemed to switch in his demeanour, and a natural smile fell across his tan face as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“No, no, don’t worry, it’s quite alright.” He assured, and you blinked at his prominent transatlantic accent. “I figured that wasn’t the best way to say hello to a stranger!” he laughed as he smoothed down his crumpled waistcoat. Reaching his lanky arm out whilst tucking the other behind him, he offered his hand out in greeting. “The name’s Alastor, my dear. And who do I have the most entertaining pleasure to be speaking to?”

You stared at his hand, then flicked your eyes up to him, scanning his grinning face with vigour.

Where, oh where, had you heard that voice before?

Your silence seemed to confuse this Alastor guy, however, and his eyes darted around in confusion as you continued to stare. From what you could see, he had come to a very wrong conclusion about your silence, and leaned over at you slightly, bringing his face level with yours.

“Cat got your tongue, my darling?” His growing cheshire grin reminding you of two very similar people. “You clearly must find me that dashing if your this speechless, haha!” he chortled, the condescension rolling off him in waves.

Oh, you knew exactly where this guy was from.

Narrowing your eyes, you scrutinised him as you quietly muttered out a single word.

“Boudreaux.”

Alastor blinked, eyes darting around your face, before raising a hand to cup at his ear. “I hate to say but I didn’t quite catch that!” he exclaimed rather loudly.

You felt your brows begin to furrow, so you raise your voice slightly. “I said, Boudreaux.”

Oh you did it now. Sparkles seemed to glitter behind his chocolate eyes as he perked up with glee, straightening up to his full height. “So you do know me after all! I was starting to think you simply had nothing going on in that head of yours!” he simpered as he tilted his head to look down at you.

Despite his clear mocking, you remained quiet for a moment longer, until you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“…You work in a radio station.” You stated flatly.

Alastor looked around, acting as if he had just realised as such. “Yes I am quite aware!” he affirmed in an obvious tone. “Did you want an award for that observation?”

You had to refrain from gaping at this man’s audacity. “… Couldn’t you have just fixed it yourself?”

The man blinked at you. “Fixed what now?”

Oh, this was it. Stepping forward, you didn’t stop until you face was a hand-lengths away from his, and you watched with satisfaction as he shifted at your invasion of his space – talk about a hypocrite as someone who clearly loved to invade the space of others. Staring at the man dead in the eye, you fully dropped the southern accent, your Yorkshire one coming back through full force.

“Your mum’s radio.” You stated simply, raising your brows to regard him with a condescending look that matched his.

You had expected him to brush it off, laughing when he realised who you were. What you hadn’t expected for his pupils to blow wide, his eyes darkening as they narrowed, scrutinising your gaze with his own, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy.

“Oh,” he said lowly. “It’s you.”

Keeping your gaze levelled, you gripped the spoon harder in your hands. That is, until your name was called.

The two of you straightened up, you leaning to look around Alastor as he spun on the spot, the both of you facing Mr Durham, who was looking between the two of you rather nervously. He called your name again.

“C’mon.” he said, refusing to take his eyes off Alastor. “Let’s go over those papers you brought.”

Without a second thought, you darted for your mug of tea, grabbing it along with an almost empty bottle of milk to put in it as you strode around Alastor, feeling the hand of your boss as he put his arm around your shoulder as he quickly led you away, and the back of your head prickled, definitely feeling the sharp eyes on your retreating back this time around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ALASTOR'S HERE RAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Watch me disappear from the face of the earth for a week cuz of my executive dysfunction lmao (Blame my adhd not me she's a seperate entity at this point.)

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 5!!

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nonbinaryspy · 9 months

Text

Meta: Timerra and Tellius

Timerra’s (belated) birthday gives me an excuse to talk about one of my favorite Engage topics: the parallels between her and various Tellius characters.

(Spoilers for FE9/10 and FE17.)

The obvious place to start is Ike. As Timerra’s personal Emblem, his build and paralogue in Engage focus on turning defense into offense to endure and protect others. This synergizes with Timerra’s Sandstorm ability as well as her priorities as Solm’s future queen.

Compared to other Emblem summonings in the game, the scene where Ike is summoned is quick and to-the-point. The Solm royals are highly competent, with a wide spy network, and already had a plan in place for when Alear shows up. They have a healthy wariness they don’t immediately display, as they welcome Alear with open arms while secretly testing if they are the true Divine Dragon. By the time Timerra meets Alear, their identity has been confirmed and bandits are already attacking, so she jumps straight into action to get Ike’s help and protect the village.

I’m sure Ike would approve of her no-nonsense approach and her focus on keeping people safe, especially after all of his own bandit fights. He has no patience for bureaucracy or noble trappings, but he understands the need for discretion when danger and politics are involved (see: his own ‘sometimes you have to fool your allies’ maneuver in RD part 2), so I think he would appreciate how the Solm royals handle this.

But you don’t have to take my word for that. Between Timerra and Seforia saying they always wanted to meet him, Timerra calling him family, Ike telling Fogado that Solm castle reminded him of being with the mercenaries, and his first Somniel dialogue saying that he already misses Solm, I think it’s safe to say there’s a lot of natural fondness between Ike and the Solm royals. Is there any wonder, when one of Solm’s main norms is accepting people regardless of their origins, possibly Ike’s defining ideal?

My favorite example of this is when Alear’s origins are revealed, and Timerra and Fogado have some of the most affirming reactions:

[ID: Four screencaps with the following dialogue toward Alear: Timerra: What matters to me isn’t how you were born. It’s what you do with the life you’re given. Timerra: If you choose to live as a Divine Dragon, then that’s what you are! Timerra: Nothing’s changed as far as I’m concerned. The you that’s in front of me—that’s all I need. Fogado: The people of Solm don’t care about origins. We care about the you NOW. And you are amazing.]

This aspect of Timerra shines throughout her supports, most notably in her relationships with Merrin and Panette. Their love and loyalty toward her stems from a time before they even knew she was a princess. They both see her as a beacon in their lives, as they wished to escape the confines of their pasts and find new futures for themselves. Timerra saw them for their ideal versions of themselves—Merrin as a chivalrous knight, Panette as someone who isn’t caught in a destructive cycle—rather than the situations they came from. Her acceptance helped them create those realities for themselves.

Anyway, unrelated to the above, just a completely random pair of images that don’t make me cry at all:

[ID: In a screencap from Engage, Timerra is saying, “No matter what’s happened, you’re still you. Let’s go save the world, Ike!” In a screencap from Path of Radiance, Ike is telling Soren, “No. It doesn’t change anything. You’re still you, Soren!”]

Another example is Timerra’s attitude toward Veyle. In the main plot, she’s one of the few main characters to express distrust toward Veyle even after the truth is revealed. However, once Veyle has proven herself as an ally, Timerra is extremely friendly toward her in their supports, with Veyle appreciating how Timerra treats her like any other friend rather than a Fell Dragon’s daughter. Again, this is reminiscent of Ike’s blend of skepticism and treating everyone the same.

I think it’s also interesting that Timerra struggles with conflicting desires for freedom vs. connection, as shown in her S support. Despite Ike’s love for people, he doesn’t always deal well with the responsibilities and expectations that get placed on him, and his ending shows he shares some of her wanderlust.

Timerra: When we connect with people─you know, really bond with them─those bonds make us stronger. Timerra: I mean, our closest allies help us do things we could never do all by ourselves. Timerra: That’s powerful stuff. But those bonds─those friendships─can feel like obligations too.

Finally, one of my favorite parallels between Ike and Timerra is a shared charm point: the fact that they live as they please, regardless of what others think, while also acting like everything they do is super obvious. An extremely ‘have your cake and eat it too’ mentality that I can only respect.

Alear: Still, you never cease to amaze. You take it upon yourself to help root out bandits… Timerra: What, is that not normal? Timerra: I’m just protecting my people. I thought that’s what royalty was supposed to do. Alear: You say something completely radical like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Timerra: Hahaha! That’s my charm!

Ranulf: Well…a little crazy, yeah! I’ve never worked for a leader who’s as blunt and straightforward as you. It’s pretty shocking to have a commander who doesn’t care what anyone thinks, no matter how powerful they are. Ike: Well, that’s just my style. I don’t have to be like someone else, do I? Ranulf: Why are you so confident? I don’t get it. Normal beorc just do what people tell them and try not to make a fuss. But not you. I heard you even yelled at the apostle! Ike: Yeah, that wasn’t my brightest moment. Ranulf: Then again, worrying about a beorc like this is definitely not normal laguz behavior. I guess I’m a fish out of water myself… Wait, did I just call myself a fish? Ike: Wha–? Ha ha! You’re a cat, remember!? I thought you ate fish. Ha ha ha!

Okay, that last bit isn’t relevant, but I just want to highlight that while Timerra and Fogado talk about how serious Ike is compared to them, they would definitely enjoy his secret love of bad puns. Here’s a bit of Timerra’s own sardonic humor that brings Ike to mind:

Alear: What?! How do you eat that much?! Timerra: Oh, you know. Open my mouth, bite, chew. I won’t bore you with all the details.

Of course I have to mention their love of meat, even if I don’t find that to be an important part of Ike’s character. What I will say is that Ike is shown in his supports with Oscar to have a genuine appreciation for artful cooking, so I think it’s neat that Timerra is one of the best cooks in the army. It’s also endearing that she feels bad for cooking around Ike when he can’t eat, though he tells Fogado the smell is enough.

Next, I want to talk about a couple of characters who aren’t in Engage: Mist and Elincia. I adore that the focus on Timerra protecting Ike flips his dynamic with both of these ladies on its head. Speaking of protection…I believe that Mist and Ike’s relationship mirrors Timerra and Fogado’s, with their fond, casual banter. It makes sense, since both duos are close in age.

Interestingly, despite Timerra being Fogado’s older sister, he is as protective of her as Ike is toward Mist. In Fogado’s case, he seems to almost see himself as Timerra’s retainer, given that he will one day be her advisor. He travels around to prepare himself for this role. Timerra, however, doesn’t always like this, as she wishes they could hang out more and that he would be more candid with her. While they’re clearly close, the distance still leaves her lonely.

Though it’s a different situation, Greil’s death puts Ike in the role of Mist’s protector at the same time that he gains dangerous responsibilities. He also takes it upon himself to get revenge on their father’s killer. She stresses that she does not want him to do these things if it means she’ll lose him, too, and as the game goes on, they lose some of the lighthearted dynamic they had at the game’s start. Having already lost her parents, it’s easy to assume Mist feels lonely in this circumstance. She even has her own protective streak toward Ike, such as in her battle conversations with the Black Knight and Ashnard. Like Timerra, Mist wants to stay close to her loved ones and protect them, and she joins the fighting to that end, even learning swordplay despite being a healer.

Despite their troubles, Mist and Timerra share a bubbly personality. They tend toward optimism and try to hide their cares them. Their sunniness gets them and others through tough situations. However, those around them still want to be able to support them even when struggle with being vulnerable.

In my opinion, some of Mist’s designs evoke Timerra’s, such as in the colors and flowing accessories. While the clothes aren’t super similar, I think the two of them would definitely enjoy going clothes shopping together. I also think they’d like to sing together. Timerra’s silly songs may be a far cry from the galdr that Mist and Elena safeguard, but that would suit Mist just fine.

Possibly my favorite character to compare Timerra to, though, is Elincia. Timerra’s bangs and the fact that her hair is tied up even follow in the character design traditions of Elincia and other characters in her archetype, such as Nyna and Guinevere. Granted, Timerra’s ponytail is a lot looser than those other characters, which is an excellent design choice as she has a much more free-spirited personality.

Still, Elincia once upon a time was not so different. She grew up in secret, frolicking in the countryside with no expectation of becoming queen. As a result, she did many things most princesses didn’t do, such as chores, horseback riding, and sword fighting. It’s commented many times that due to cultural differences as well as Timerra’s own personality, her lifestyle and activities are often at odds with what others expect from a princess. While their allies might find both princesses strange at times, they end up trusting and supporting them due to their approachable natures.

Elincia is shown to have a playful streak in PoR when she is reunited with her retainers, around whom she feels comfortable enough to drop her more stately personality. On the flip side, while Timerra is more frequently playful, she never forgets her role. Even her more casual supports show this, such as when she susses out Ivy’s weakness during a camping trip, or interrupts a training session with Diamant to ask if he believes peace is possible. Many of her exploration quotes show this as well, with her referencing the other nations’ politics and even in her response if her allies die.

“My brother, my stewards…gone. It’s so cruel. But as the future queen, I will not crumble!”

Elincia and Timerra’s upbringings contrast with each other, since Timerra has always known she would be queen. Her free-spirited nature stems from Solm’s ideals and the role of its government. After Daein invades, Elincia has to travel incognito, giving her a chance to learn about the world. She develops a strong desire to protect her people. The endpoint of her character development in PoR is where Timerra is already at when we are introduced to her—Timerra has been training and traveling incognito and is ready to defend her country. Regardless of where they start, Elincia’s compassion and resolve are reflected in Timerra, who only wants to make her people happy and believes the best way to do that is to get to know them, so she can better understand and protect them.

The games’ plots present challenges that test both characters’ resolve. While Elincia has to make a variety of decisions, the one I want to highlight comes at the end of RD part 2, when Lucia is taken hostage. Elincia is told that Lucia will die unless she gives up the throne to a usurper. However, she refuses. Despite the sacrifice of someone dear to her, she will never give up on protecting Crimea. In the end, both Lucia and Crimea are safe, but it has nonetheless been demonstrated what Elincia would do under that pressure.

I thought of this when I got to one of my favorite moments in Engage, when Timerra and co. have to take back the palace from the Elusians. Hortensia holds her mother hostage, assuming Timerra will bend and hand over the Emblem rings. However, doing so would doom Solm along with the rest of the world. Timerra refuses to back down, and she saves her family along with her country.

[ID: Five screencaps alternating between RD and Engage. Elincia and Timerra look resolved, while Lucia and Seforia as hostages look on proudly. Elincia: But I will see Crimea through this trial. I will give my people the future they deserve, no matter the cost. Timerra: So threaten us all you want. Take my whole family hostage, if it makes you happy. Timerra: But I stand for Solm, and I always will. Lucia: People of Crimea... Behold a true queen! YOUR queen! Long live Queen Elincia! Seforia: There she is, the future queen of Solm. And her ally, the Divine Dragon.]

Back to characters who are in Engage: the other Tellius Emblems. As with Elincia, Micaiah is presented with a series of trolley problems throughout RD. There’s a big focus in the Tellius games on making decisions for personal vs. political reasons, and whether to prioritize a loved one/a situation that is right in front of you over the bigger picture, and I think this is most complex with Micaiah’s story. This is highlighted when Sothe is held hostage and she is told to stand down to save him. This recalls the situation I already discussed with Timerra.

Like Timerra, Micaiah is a tactical thinker who has to foresee long-term plans as well as use strategic approaches in situations where she’s outnumbered. Micaiah ends RD as Daein’s queen, despite not being brought up for that role and having traveled in disguise, getting to know and love Daein’s people. Again, this fits with Timerra traveling around incognito and being passionate about protecting Solm.

Timerra expresses that Solm didn’t reach out for help when Sombron returned because they’d have to return other nations’ support when it was taking all of their efforts just to keep Solm safe. This brings to mind Micaiah’s conflicts, as she has to make difficult decisions to protect Daein from Begnion’s occupation and the blood pact, which sometimes involves rejecting outside help when a situation is too complicated, such as in her 3-13 battle talk with Ike.

Unfortunately, Emblem bond supports don’t have the scope for these sorts of complexities. However, I was tickled by the fact that Timerra invites Micaiah to sing with her, as a reference again to the Galdrs.

Speaking of bond supports…I don’t have anything deep to say about Timerra and Soren, but just look at how precious they are:

[ID: Two Emblem Bond screencaps. Soren is bowing with his hand over his heart, and he and Timerra are smiling at each other. Soren: You’re the princess of Solm, is that right? I thank you for protecting Ike. Timerra: He’s told me so much about you. I expect big things from you, talented advisor!]

Her careful approach to protecting Ike’s ring won the trust of someone with deep trust issues and a protective streak toward Ike, aww. They’re friends in my files every time. It’s also sweet that she wants to understand him and Ike better by learning about the mercenaries. I know she loves her moodier Emblem pals, but I’m sure she’d feel right at home with the whole rambunctious crew, like how Ike felt at home in Solm.

While this post is long enough without going into depth on Yunaka, as Micaiah’s guardian she also has a combination of Tellius influences, between her obvious parallels to Yune and Sothe as well as some of the themes of Micaiah’s character. Micaiah’s introduction, with her calling out to Yunaka, even mirrors Micaiah hearing Yune’s voice. For these reasons, I really wish she and Timerra had talked. I think Timerra’s simultaneous hidden wariness and acceptance of people regardless of their backgrounds would definitely play well with Yunaka’s arc. Fogado, as someone who shares Timerra’s ideals, certainly had a positive influence on Yunaka in their supports with his compassion. Plus, can you imagine the silly phrases Timerra and Yunaka would invent together?

I’ll end this before it strays too far from the main point, but I hope someone else enjoys these observations! Timerra is my favorite Engage character, and since Tellius is so dear to me, noticing these connections definitely made her character even more special.

#fire emblem #fe17 #fe: engage #tellius #path of radiance #radiant dawn #timerra #timerra fire emblem #ike fire emblem #elincia ridell crimea #mist fire emblem #micaiah #soren fire emblem #yunaka #fogado #fe9 #fe10 #fire emblem engage

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