#if i get a more in-depth idea for it maybe i'll write that too

[lookinghalfacorpse]

Your butterflies idea has got my brain working overtime so as payment I want to share some small ideas:

-the butterflies using their color and wing movement as a sort of code or signal system

-the server being on edge with not being able to tell which butterflies belong to c!dream

-similar idea but with the server witnessing all butterflies seemingly disappearing or a sudden and dramatic increase (both scenarios work with c!dream being imprisoned or escaping)

-the butterflies trying to secretly hang with punz

-the prison and places significant to c!dream being covered in butterflies

-the butterflies having mock eye designs

-c!quackity having to plan on how to not have the butterflies blow his cover

-c!dream’s chat having mixed feelings on ex-friends so there is a mix of avoiding and hindering them in spite or sadly staying close hoping they’ll change their mind

-some of them have designs and attitudes that remind c!dream of long gone attachments

i like a LOT of these ideas, but one in particular kinda stood out...

--

"Nah, nah, you keep changin' the subject," Techno said, "I'm not droppin' this until you give me somethin' that at least vaguely resembles an answer. C'mooon."

Technoblade's hooves clacked against the obsidian as he walked around the cell. He seemed a bit energetic that day-- he'd go through periods of exhaustion and stir-craziness at fairly unpredictable intervals. That day was an  animated one.

Dream, on the other hand, was feeling absolutely drained. Sat on the floor and partially curled in on himself, he had a hard time keeping up with his roommate's energy. "An answer to what?" he asked.

"To the question I asked, like, 10 minutes ago! You're re-directin' again, see?" His voice took a steadier tone as he repeated it again, "Why does God look like you?"

"I literally don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do! Dude, have you looked in a mirror? Ever? Because if you haven't, let me tell ya, it would be a lot like lookin' at God."

Poetic. Dream scoffed.

"You're an idiot."

"I'm perfectly rational and sane," Techno countered.

"No you're not. Techno, I'm not covered in eyes."

The God they saw-- DreamXD-- did, admittedly, look a little bit like Dream. Much of their features were the same. His nose, his brows, his cheekbones, his jawline. The resemblance was there, sure. But what Dream lacked was the multiple eyes that decorated the god. DreamXD had a few small eyes underneath the main ones on his face, a few up his arms, on the back of his neck, and probably plenty more underneath that flowing cloak of his.

Techno's hooves stilled. His eyes scanned up and down Dream's form, and Dream raised a brow at him.

"You used to be," Techno said.

Technoblade remembered planning Doomsday. He remembered spending some extra time with Dream and Philza during their preparations, and he remembered the stark contrasts between his own chat and theirs. Dream and Phil had elegant and airborne chats; Dream's butterflies decorated the cabins, and Phil's crows sang haunting tunes throughout the forest. Technoblade's chat stayed within his head, repetitious and largely unhelpful.

He'd watch the butterflies land on Dream, clinging to the edges of his armor. The eye-like designs they bore on their wings spread across him, blinking as they fluttered. It was surreal to watch.

Now, locked in a box and lucky to see the few butterflies that were able to sneak in, Dream seemed empty.

"I guess I was, huh," Dream mused.

[whysamwhy123]

I'm writing AGAAAAAAIN

And it's TRRAAAAAAASH

But I don't CAAAAAAARE

Because it's FUUUUUUNN

[envy-of-the-apple]

Hihihihi!! Happy Belated Bday!!!! I hope you had a good day 💗

Just wanna say again I love ya writing 🤍 Question for the Naha AU, Would the Naga hatchlings be able to speak English since they grew up around reader? And do you think Satoru and Suguru would develop more speech the longer they’re around reader?

Could y’all maybe stop giving me ideas for the naga au??? This isn't very nice

Top of the Food Chain pt 3

Part One Part two

(Dark!naga!Satosugu x reader)

(Warnings: implied forced relationship, yandere, dark content etc etc)

"I saw a shark today."

That certainly caught your attention.

"I'm sorry, you what?"

"Triangle fins, sharp teeth," Nobara casually continues, "a shark."

You move, more worried than upset. "Did it attack you? Are you okay?"

You glance down at her body. In just a few years, she'd grown to be slightly smaller than you. In terms of looks, she's resembles a human pre-teen. Compared to her brothers, she looks more human too. Her hair can hide the fins that protrude where her ears should be. Her eyes are more human, rounder. If it weren't for her tail, swishing in the water behind her, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

"We did fight." Nobara grins. Sharp teeth, just like her fathers'.

"Not funny," you reply.

"We did! Can you guess who won? I'll give you a hint: she's right in front of you."

She manages to pull a laugh out of you. You shake your head at her, more exasperated than anything else.

"No more fighting any more sharks," you tell her, but when she grins wider, you know she won't listen.

In human years, she's barely an infant. In Naga years, she's barely a teenager. Yet, she's so independent. Nobara started hunting for herself as soon as she started staying in the water around the clock. Not even Yuji and Megumi became this hands-off, despite both being larger than her.

It's probably why you had a soft spot for her. You'd never admit this to the other two hatchlings, but Nobara was your favorite (and you had a feeling she knew it, too). She resembles you in a way. Different, from the rest of the group. A bit isolated. It doesn't help that neither of her fathers seemed to be interested in her as soon as she started venturing into the water. You can count the number of times they've visited her on your hand. And you were pretty sure it had more to do with the fact you were with her, rather than Nobara herself.

She was alone. Much like you are.

The siren hums, giving you a small 'aye captain', which causes you to laugh again. Despite how uncaring she appeared, you were certain Nobara liked it when you worried for her. Cared about her. You just wished she wouldn't go to extremes just to get your attention.

Her expression brightens just then. Her tail swishes, creating small waves as she rises up. You were a few feet away, right at the bank, looking down at her as she wiggled.

"Oh! I found more human things!" She excitedly told you.

"Did you?" you ask, tilting your head, smiling.

There's a nod, before she's diving down, disappearing into the depths. She comes back up to the surface a few minutes later, depositing a few trinkets onto the bank.

It's your fault for instilling such a curiosity for humans. She was the first to pick up your tongue, practically a native speaker by the time she started to swim. Because of her ability to venture into the ocean, she started picking up strange objects, returning back to you. You and her would sit for hours, sifting through the stuff she brought. Her fascination with humankind thrilled you. You were always more than willing to share your knowledge with Nobara.

"What are they?" she asks in pure fascination.

"Hm, let's see," you reply, looking through the stuff.

It was a rather small haul. You didn't mind. She's found a couple of interesting things today.

"Oh, a claw clip," you note, picking the plastic contraption with both hands, "you use this to hold your hair, to get it out of your face."

It's pretty. Cheap looking, but ultimately pretty. You like the designs. It's a pretty color too. Periwinkle.

Nobara looks at the hair ornament with wonder.

"A claw clip." She tries.

"Here, I'll show you. Turn around." You tell her.

She does as she's told, swishing in the water. You lean over the bank, grabbing her beautiful hair. You needed to be careful. Nagafolk have more sensitive hair than yours but she doesn't seem to mind your fumbling. When you're finished adjusting the clip, you ask her to look at her reflection in the water.

"Well?" you ask.

"Wow," she gushes, "I look so cute!"

You laugh, light and airy. She beams at you, and for a moment, she looks like a kid, with no sharp teeth, no desire to go shark hunting.

"What else?" she asks, moving back to the bank.

You hum, picking up the book next. It was soggy from all the time it had spent in the water. You could somewhat make out what was on the title. But the ink on the inside was completely ruined.

"Books don't do well in water," you tell her with a pitied smile, "sorry."

She frowns but urges you to explain the last object. You'd been purposefully saving it for last. In a strange way, it was sentimental to you.

"A camera," you explain, "you can use it to take pictures."

"Pictures?" Nobara echoes.

"Remember those photographs you found last week? Pictures and photographs are the same thing." Nobara nods at your explanation.

She takes the camera from your fingers, examining it.

"We can get pictures from this?" She asks, and you can't help but note the excitement in her tone.

"Not from this camera no," you tell her, "Human technology and water don't mix."

She huffs. Her expression oddly reminds you of Suguru's whenever Satoru did something disappointing. She truly was her father's daughter.

"That's stupid," she finally tells you and you have to throw your head up and laugh. Your shoulders shake. You can catch a hint of a smile from her before she goes back to examining the camera.

It's cheap, one of those disposable ones you'd find at the check-out aisle at a grocery store. It was a hassle to take care of, working with the film, taking it to someone who could turn it into something visual. You knew that because-

"-We took a camera just like this for our trip," you start, "We were supposed to take pictures of every island that we visited. Something we could have taken home with us."

The cruise. The explosion. You washing up on this hellhole of an island. It felt like years ago, but how long ago was it? You'd already lost your sense of time.

"Mom?"

You glance up. Her eyes are thoughtful, staring you down. Too wide, you can't help but think. Her eyes are too wide to be human. Because she isn't human. She wasn't one of you.

"If you could, would you leave?"

It takes you a moment to process her words. You can't formulate a response, not quickly enough. This should be the time when you become the adult she's looking for. When you coddle her and assure her that you will never leave her.

When you open your mouth, nothing comes out.

The reason why Nobara was your favorite, was because she was a lot more smarter than you.

Her eyes flick down. Her hands, still holding the camera, grip tighter threatening to break-

Then, she straightens herself. Posture righted, angled, taut. Her fins flare out before flattening. She could smell them coming.

You, on the other hand, heard them before you saw them.

A breaking of twigs, a silent hiss. You expect it, yet you still flinch when a clawed hand rests on your shoulder.

You can feel yourself deflate. Times up.

In front of you, Nobara frowns, unimpressed. You can feel Satoru nuzzle his face into your neck. Suguru is clicking something to the hatchling. In turn, her face curls into a sneer. She hisses something back.

You hate it when they do this, ignore you in favor of speaking a language you'd never understand. Satoru and Suguru would always gleefully leave you out. Nobara, however, was far more accommodating.

"What's he saying?" You ask her.

She huffs, crossing her arms and looking away.

"He asked if I took you out to the open ocean."

You glance at Suguru, hoping your face is as disapproving as you feel. Suguru meets your gaze, a silent challenge.

"Did you?" A new voice comes.

Yuji appears first out of the foliage with a bright smile and wide eyes. He's followed by his second oldest sibling. Megumi gives a slight warning hiss when his youngest sibling almost barrels him over.

"I didn't!" Nobara insists, glaring at Yuji. He only grins back, glinting his sharp fangs. Smile of a predator, you think to yourself.

"Nothing like that happened." You turned to Suguru, "We just stayed here. I never left."

It was a promise to both of them, one you hope none of the hatchlings heard. Or at least, paused enough to decipher.

Yuji and Megumi slither up to greet you despite you still being trapped in Satoru's hold. The larger naga huffs, not happy with the sudden attention you're receiving. You ignore Satoru, smiling when Megumi briefly touches your arm in affection. Yuji gently leans down to bump foreheads.

"I don't get why you two had to come along," Satoru says, his tone light, but you can still sense the annoyance. His hold over you becomes ever so slightly constricting. Even all these years, and he's still terrified of you being taken away.

They both are, even when Suguru tries to deny his paranoia.

Yuji pouts at his father's words. He turns to you.

"You were gone forever." He whines. "We got worried."

When Megumi glances away, you know he shares the sentiment. It's nice to know that despite their reptilian features, you could still instill a semblance of humanity within these three.

"I didn't mean to scare you," You say, not just talking to the hatchlings, "I wanted to spend time with Nobara for a bit. Look at the things she brought!"

You mention to the human artifacts. In response, Suguru picks up the camera with sharp claws. Neither Suguru nor Satoru had ever been interested in the things humanity tossed on their shores.

The boys follow in their father's footsteps. Yuji only nods, Megumi doesn't even bother giving a response. No matter how hard you tried, only Nobara was truly interested in human culture.

To prove your point, she hisses, her fins flattening to the sides when Suguru handles the camera too roughly for her taste.

"Careful!" She warns. "Don't break it."

An amused smile before Suguru tosses the camera in her direction. She catches it just before it hits the water, still scowling. He doesn't react to your look of disapproval. Satoru laughs, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

Suguru titters something in her direction. Nobara hisses. Yuji and Megumi also stiffen. You fight the urge to sigh. You don't need a translator to know what he's saying.

"Megumi, Yuji," you call, "stay with your sister for a bit, please? Your fathers and I need to talk for a bit."

Yuji's more than happy to dive into the water with his sister. She squabbles with him, dunking his head under the water in an attempt of casual drowning. Megumi's the one who hesitates. You've always thought he knew more than he let on.

You give him an encouraging smile.

"Go on."

You wait until their heads dip underwater. Then, you wait a few moments more, prolonging the inevitable.

"You shouldn't scare them like that." You finally say, not looking at either of them. "They're just kids."

"She's old enough to understand the dangers of you being in the water," Suguru responds.

"Of course she is, but she doesn't need constant reminders." You're not arguing. You're not arguing. "They—the hatchlings—don't need to see me as weak."

"But you are." Satoru playfully says. As if to prove it, he curls his hands around your hips and waist, easily hoisting you into his arms. You knew better than to struggle, reluctantly putting your arms around his neck.

"I know my own weaknesses. They don't need to coddle me. I get that enough from you two."

Satoru shrugs, burying his head back into your neck, soaking in your warmth.

"In any case," Suguru continues his earlier conversation. You watch as he glides over, a clawed arm caressing your shoulder, "you shouldn't be out with her for so long. The boys will start to notice your favoritism sooner or later."

You frown at his words. "I'm not playing favorites. At least Megumi and Yuji have each other. Nobara's out here all alone."

Nobara had fully developed her gills when she was just a year old. The more she spent her time out in the ocean, the more worried you got for her loneliness.

Suguru hums at your words, tracing your legs.

"She won't be lonely for long. Aren't the females migrating this season, Satoru?"

The other naga nods. "Yeah, this new moon. She'll make plenty of friends in the open ocean."

You blink at Satoru's words, trying to sit up from his embrace. He just huffs in annoyance, gripping you tighter.

"She—Nobara's leaving?" You ask.

Suguru smiles, enjoying your naivety.

"Of course, my love. All hatchlings do. Soon enough, Megumi and Yuji will go out and scout their own territories. Don't human young leave their parents once they're old enough?"

They do. You have. But in human years, Nobara, Megumi, and Yuji are still toddlers. In naga years, they're barely teenagers. To you, they're still babies. They're so young. Would they be able to fend for themselves out there?

Nobara asked if you could leave, would you. Maybe she wasn't just asking for your sake.

"If anything, that's good for us!" Satoru exclaims. "The caves' getting too crowded. It'd be nice to finally get to stretch out again."

Suguru nods in agreement. When you don't share their joy, he leans down to your eye level.

"You'll miss them, hm?" He asks.

You nod. There's no need to lie. He laughs at your honesty, kissing your cheek.

"I'm sure they'll visit from time to time," he assures, "hatchlings don't typically have any sentiment for their parents, but I'm sure the three will make an exception for you."

"Besides," Satoru pipes in. "The nest won't be empty for too long."

You look up at him in mild alarm.

"What do you mean by that?"

Suguru gives his mate a soft smile.

"This was our first mating season," he explains, "a success, I'd like to call it. We'll have many more sets of hatchlings in the future."

They both peer down at you. Eyes turn to slits. Purple and blue.

"And you'll be a wonderful parent to all of them. Just like you were to our first three."

[forsworned]

No One Noticed ft. Hesh Walker

Synopsis: Feeling lonely and disconnected, you find solace in an online gaming forum where you meet Hesh, a war veteran who secretly works as an elite member of the Ghosts task force. Despite Hesh's initial tough exterior, he's soft for you and bonds through shared gaming experiences, late-night texts, and calls. Eager to bring their digital connection into the real world, You're convinced by your newfound virtual love to fly to his city to explore a potential relationship. Will your connection flourish or go to shit?

Warnings: Canon Game Violence, Canon Violence, Sexual Content, Phone Sex, Sexting, PnV sex, Cunninglingus, Blowjob, 9.8k words

Author's note: This song makes me so emotional and who better to write this for than my love, Hesh

If you could change anything, it would be your soul-sucking day job. Typing away at transcripts behind your desk is tedious, mind-numbing, and downright exhausting. You glance at the clock—it finally reads 4:30PM. A sigh of relief escapes you as you save your work and close the tab. The hum of your old office lamp and the clatter of your keyboard are the only sounds breaking the monotony. Your eyes ache from the screen's glare, and the cold air in the office makes the warmth of your couch even more inviting.

Ping!

The chat pop-up lights up your dim screen, and you feel a sudden rush of serotonin.

MyDawgRiley99: Your day been as shitty as mine?

A soft laugh escapes you as you read his message. Since joining a gaming lobby with a group of military guys during a late-night Fortnite session, you've found yourself playing with them almost every time they invite you. You never really pried into their daily lives; you were just looking to unwind. And yet, some nights, one of them would linger after the others had logged off, not to play, but simply to talk and unwind.

And over time, you began to savor the sound of his voice, finding comfort in its deep, resonant tone. You bite your bottom lip before typing away at your keyboard:

CtrlFreak: Seems like we're both in the trenches today.

As you're about to close out the tab, his reply bubble immediately appears, and you feel your spirits lift.

MyDawgRiley99: Long day at the office?

You scoff, shaking your head. Maybe you’re sharing too much with someone you’ve only met online, but you think to yourself, If he's half as sexy as he sounds, it should be okay, right? Right??

CtrlFreak: Like you wouldn't believe. I'm two seconds away from losing it.

MyDawgRiley99: Well, let's try to fix that. Same time?

You glance at your stack of requests and exhale sharply. Falling behind on deadlines and getting chewed out by your boss isn't your idea of relaxation, but for one night, just one freakin' night...

CtrlFreak: I really shouldn't...

MyDawgRiley99: Just one match?

You snort softly. You know what that means. One match turns into five, with hours of talking in between while you sit in the lobby. Sometimes, others join, and it’s nothing but a constant roast session that leaves you craving more genuine human interaction. It’s a vicious cycle.

CtrlFreak: I'll think about it. MyDawgRiley99: Haha, I'll be waiting for ya.

You shut your laptop and press your forehead against the warm alloy. The constant burnout of your job leaves you unfocused, fatigued, and jittery from all the espresso shots you need just to stay awake.

But you decide to join anyway. He immediately joins your party the moment you load into the lobby.

"Almost thought you wouldn't hop on tonight." His voice comes through your headset, instantly relaxing you.

The corners of your lips curl into a smile. "What can I say? You've tempted me."

He chuckles, and it's flirty, light, fun, and easy. In this moment, you want nothing more than to relish the escapism that comes from the unknown soldier on the other side of your screen. Amidst your grueling workday, his voice is like a coolness that soothes your burning heart, pulling you from the depths of mundanity into a world where conversation flows as smoothly as his laughter.

You tap on your controller, trying to control the strange desire stirring within you. You have no idea what he looks like—or what any of them look like, really.

Truthfully, you never bothered to ask for names. You referred to each other by the first initial of your real names. His being 'H.'

"You wanna talk about it?" The sound of him munching on chips comes through the speaker, causing you both to laugh. "My bad."

"All good. Nah, I'm just burned out." You readjust yourself on your sofa and lean back against the cushion, closing your eyes as you savor the sound of his smooth tenor.

"I get that. Trust me."

You feel that smile returning. "Right, right."

"Well," he begins, playfully defensive at your casual dismissal. "I'm just sayin'—"

Your laughter echoes through the headset, and he sighs, the smile on his face growing at your teasing. "Always gettin’ me worked up."

"You fall for it every time." You retort. Your mirth fades, and it's quiet for a moment. You tap at your controller again, playing with the joystick as your heart begins to race. There's almost a need to ask him to reveal himself to you. After all those nights dreaming about him, you find yourself yearning to know what he looks like.

"So," he clears his throat, shaking you out of your mild daze. "um, I don't want you to feel like you have to, but..."

You sit up a bit, feeling your throat go dry at his sudden change in tone. You can literally feel the tension through the connection.

"Well, I'm just kind of curious about, you know," his voice holds hesitation, an eagerness to pry. It creates a charged silence between you. The playful teasing shifts into something more earnest, and you can almost hear the curiosity in his tone as he tries to find the right words.

"Uh huh," you playfully taunt. You can tell where this is going, and you can't help but feel exhilarated at the thought of finally knowing what he looks like.

He chuckles, and it sends a thrill up your spine. "Uhhhh," he awkwardly laughs again, and you join in. The smile on your lips stretches broadly across your face, making your cheeks sore.

"I mean, we've been talking on here for months, so I'm just curious about how you look, you know?" He sighs. "Aren't you?"

You giggle at the apprehensiveness in his voice. "Seems like it's been weighing on your mind."

"Something like that." He clears his throat. "Obviously, it can stay this way. No pressure."

You scratch your head, feeling trepidation seeping into your bones. It isn't a now-or-never moment. You could simply say no or maybe another time, but you feel this irresistible pull from him. You think that even if he isn't the most attractive guy, it's not the end of the world...

"Okay." You simply say.

"Really!?" He exclaims, and you laugh at his enthusiasm. It's endearing, really. It's the lack of a social life that's really doing it for you. You think that maybe if you started going on Hinge again, you wouldn't have this problem of getting emotionally attached to men in Fortnite lobbies. But all of that falls into the back of your mind as you return to the present.

You're a bit tentative, but the words naturally come out. "Sure, I'm curious too." You breathe out, fiddling with the wire of your headphones between your fingers. There are dents from the hours you’ve spent on your console, talking to him during the late hours of the night.

"Yeah?" The way he says it sends a thrill up your spine again. You just know this man is sexy. Dammit.

"Yeah." You reply, almost reluctantly, as you walk over to your desktop and pull up your Discord server. Your cursor hovers over the video chat button, but he pings himself in, and you reflexively close the tab.

"What the fuck?" He laughs, and you crumble at his reaction, hiding your face in your hands.

Your heart pounds as you feel warmth crawl into your cheeks. "I'm sorry!"

He's still laughing at your reaction. You can't tell if it's because he thinks it's funny how quickly you exited or if he finds you as endearing as you find him.

"Are you shy?" He asks, still chuckling. You swallow thickly, not wanting to answer immediately. It's been far too long since you've been in the dating scene, and you’ve forgotten the simple pleasure of face-to-face flirting, reading the micro-expressions of the person across from you. To you, it was like a game—analyzing the strain on their face when you talk about your interests instead of your kinks, the bounce of their thighs when you're not throwing back sexual banter, or the way you check to see if they bear their teeth at you when they smile. It was easier knowing he was just a voice, but now it seems like he's reeling you in for more, and you find yourself struggling to say no.

You didn't want to deal with the high highs and the low lows anymore. The boring simplicity of a quiet relationship is what you craved, but a military man? That's tumultuous, grueling even. You didn't want to go back to nights of crying yourself to sleep over a man who refused to take your calls or reply to your texts because of their emotional distance and lack of therapy. But you're craving attention, and he's so willing to give it to you.

You groan at his reaction. "Fine," you grumble as you open the chat again and nibble your lip, lingering over the tab that shows he's active.

"No pressure," he teases, a hint of mischief in his tone. It's daring, and you’re no coward. You click the tab, joining the video call, and your heart races as you wait for it to load, stripping off your headset.

And then there he is, swaying in his gaming chair, his face lighting up when you enter the call.

"Oh shit," he grins, and you cover your mouth to hide the joy in your expression because he's fucking hot. The grittiness of the webcam blurs his handsome features, but you can still make out the sharpness of his jawline, the intensity of his viridian eyes, and the darkness of his short-cropped hair. He strokes the stubble on his cheeks, not even bothering to hide his obvious attraction. He's brunette, rugged, and attractive enough to make you want to buy a lottery ticket because you can't believe your luck. "What's up, girl?”

You feel the color drain from your face at his tone, and you quickly wave in the most awkward fashion. He looks even more amused. You realize you're not used to being looked at this way by men, and your shyness catches him off guard. "What's the matter?"

You shake your head. "N-nothing," you stammer, fiddling with the wire again. The momentary distraction of your desk lamp is all that keeps you from looking at him directly.

"Come on, don't be shy now," he coos, smiling so widely that it almost makes you want to melt into your chair.

You stare at the small thumbnail of yourself on the screen, feeling somewhat more exposed than you're used to. After a few seconds, you finally allow yourself to look at him again.

"I don't know," you laugh. "I wasn't expecting you to look like that."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckles, and you catch a glimpse of his dimples. "What were you expecting, then?"

"An ogre," you joke.

He throws his head back, laughing. "Damn, you really had no faith in me." he jokes back, and you're both nervously giggling at your first video chat. It’s awkward in all the right ways. The tension between you increases, but it’s different now. The curtain of anonymity you both sought on this platform has been lifted.

You shake your head, still bashful from his handsomeness. It irritates you. One hot guy gives you attention, and you're falling to your knees.

"Not one bit." You tuck your lips into your mouth, and he leans his chin on his palm, admiring the details of your face. You're just not ready to admit your attraction yet. You’d rather let it linger in the air, maybe make him pine for your compliments.

There's another pause as the playful banter fades into a softer, more charged silence. The tension hangs in the air, neither of you quite sure what to say next. You chew your lip, still somewhat unsure of how you want this to go. But before you can overthink it, he speaks up again.

"So... maybe we could meet up sometime?" His voice is tentative, like he's not quite ready for your answer.

You blink, taken aback. "Oh, um," you bite your bottom lip, feeling the tension in your shoulders. "That sounds cool."

His smile widens, and there's something almost boyish in his excitement. "Yeah?"

You nod, giving him a shy smile. "Yeah."

"Alright then," he grins. "Let's see where this goes."

He sways in his chair again and grins. "So, did you wanna talk about it?"

And that’s the start of long conversations over the phone—your actual phone—after he asks for your number, and you coyly give it to him. More often than not, he's testing the limits of your humor with dark memes, sending you selfies and mirror pics in his uniform that you shamelessly drool over, and FaceTiming you during his night shifts to keep him company while you sprawl out on your bed.

In his downtime, he shamelessly fists at his dick at the mere thought of you. Those pretty lips on his leaking tip, licking up the precum that oozes out and coats the plushness of your flesh. He wonders how you taste, what makes you moan, because at this point it’s obvious you’re both really into each other. Neither of you wants to break the ice—you simply enjoy the flirting and the cutesy banter. He loves the way you giggle at his stupid jokes and how you seem to show a little more skin the more calls you have.

Like when you get up from your seat, and instead of wearing your usual sweats, you’re now sporting a pair of curve-hugging plaid shorts and a flimsy tank top with straps that are always slipping off your shoulders. And it’s painfully obvious when he flares his nose playfully at you and glances away. Maybe there’s a subtle gesture of him adjusting himself, and you throw your head back, not bothering to hide the delight in your laughter.

"You know what you're doing," he quips, drumming his fingers on his work table.

You lean back in your chair and fiddle with the squishy cactus stress toy, stretching out the arms and letting them go with a pop. "I have no idea what you’re talking about," you chime with a giggle.

His eyes fall on your braless figure, cleavage spilling out of the V-shaped collar, tracing the outline of your nipples that peak through the sheer fabric.

"Yes, you do," he insists, gripping the hem of his compression shorts as they strain against his throbbing dick.

There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye. "And what's that?"

He doesn’t miss a beat. "Being a sexy little vixen." His eyes roam your body again, and you hide your burning face. God, his directness was always so sexy to you. He never bothered to hide the way he felt. Especially when he would heart every selfie you sent him, throwing praises your way like you were the only woman in the world.

"You're not foolin’ me," he presses on, grabbing his planner and clicking his pen as he begins to jot something down.

Your curiosity piques. "What are you doing?"

He chuckles. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" He provocatively glances up at you. "I’m writing down the dates that I’m off."

"For?"

"When I meet you."

Your eyes widen at his boldness, and a shy smile graces your lips. "Meet me?" Your heart picks up its rhythm, and you’re trying your hardest not to get too giddy about it.

He taps his metal pen against the paper, leans back in his chair, and licks his lips. "Is that a problem?"

You hadn’t expected him to be so forward about meeting you. Fuck, he looks so damn edible when he manspreads, looking nonchalant and relaxed. He can sense your yearning but also your hesitation.

He leans forward again, sincerity coming easy to him. "Look," he begins, wanting to comfort you, to assure you he won’t take advantage of you, but he knows it’s a privilege to be in your presence.

"I know you’ve probably heard this a million times: 'You won’t get hurt, you can trust me.' And I know it’s an absolute luxury to even exist alongside you."

That makes you blush. It’s so easy to tell that he was raised right.

"But this," he gestures between the two of you, "I want to know if it’s real. There’s only so much I can tell from behind a screen."

You understand what he means. The essence of a person—their aura, their charisma—is so much more tangible and real when you meet them in person. Seeing their quirks, their habits, feeling their energy. It’s different.

"I know you know what I mean."

You nod. "I do." You lick your lips, searching for the right response. There’s really no doubt in your mind that you want to meet him. I mean, for God's sake, he's mouthwatering. The way his abs peek out from under his loose shirt when he stretches, the playful way he flexes his taut biceps, his calloused hands hardened from war and long hours at the gym. He's just delectable all around.

But are you willing to take the leap?

Somehow, you're still asking yourself that as you peer out the window of the airplane. Your ticket is paid for—first class, with all the accommodations…it’s like a dream.

The landscape below is a patchwork of rebuilt cities and scarred land, signs of a world that has been through hell but is clawing its way back.You can’t help but wonder if this is a glimpse into the future you’re stepping into. A life beyond the screen, in a world where the remnants of war are slowly being overtaken by new growth, where hope is becoming tangible again.

The plane touches down smoothly on a newly restored runway, and as you step into the terminal, you’re greeted by the sight of soldiers, workers, and civilians mingling in a place that once might have been a warzone. Your heart races with anticipation, nervousness, and a hint of something deeper. This isn’t just about meeting him—it’s about stepping into a world that both of you are trying to find your place in.

He’s waiting for you just outside the baggage claim, leaning casually against a pillar. The grittiness of the webcam is replaced by the crisp reality of his presence. The sharpness of his jawline, the vividness of his eyes, and the way his uniform fits him perfectly—it all hits you at once. You realize that you weren’t fully prepared for how striking he’d be in person.

The moment stretches between you, just like it did during your video calls, but now there’s no screen to hide behind. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if he’s trying to memorize you all over again. And then, with a grin that sends a shiver down your spine, he steps forward.

“Hey,” he says, his voice lower and more resonant in person, sending a thrill through you.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to keep your cool, but the way your voice trembles gives you away.

His grin widens, and he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours. The touch is electric, sending sparks through your body. He notices the way you react and chuckles softly, not even trying to hide his satisfaction.

“You’re just as pretty as I imagined,” he says, his bluntness making your cheeks heat up.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you manage to tease, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

He laughs, a sound that’s warm and genuine, and it eases some of the tension between you. He leans into you, enveloping you into a warm embrace and you easily return it as you snake your arms around his neck. The smell of his aftershave engulfs your senses and you relax into his touch. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says, withdrawing from you to grab your bag effortlessly as he leads you toward the exit.

Outside, the air is fresher than you expected, a sign that nature is beginning to reclaim the earth. The city around you is a mix of new constructions and old ruins. It’s almost nothing like the California you remember. He leads you to a sleek, black SUV and opens the passenger door for you.

As you settle into your seat, you glance at him as he climbs in, feeling a mix of emotions. This is the man you’ve spent hours talking to, flirting with, and getting to know through a screen. Now he’s here, real and tangible, and the chemistry between you is undeniable.

He catches you staring and smirks, reaching over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You alright?” he asks, his voice soft but with an edge of excitement.

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yeah,” you nervously avert your gaze and nod. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Hesh nods, giving you a reassuring smile. “So, here’s the plan,” He hands you the aux cord. And you grin as you take it from him. “We’re gonna head back to the base,”

He sees you visibly stiffen. “But,” And you raise your brows waiting for him to continue. “We’re going back to my place after we check you in.”

You let out a sigh of relief and he laughs, as he watches you plug your phone in and shake your head. 

“Come on, you know that I live off base.” Hesh occasionally glances over at you, as if making sure you’re comfortable while you shuffle through your playlist. He seems to be the picture of calm, but you can sense the underlying tension that lingers between you two.

You say nothing and end up settling on a song you both love (mostly you).

You should stay real close to Jesus Keep that bottle at your hand, my man

He chuckles at your pick, and reaches over to hold your hand. A wave of comfort washes over you. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m Lana coded for the hundredth time.”

You giggle at him and sit up a bit. “You are!”

He shakes his head and lets the song play, humming along to the tune and you’re actively burning it into your mind. It’s something you want to remember every detail of. The way he squeezes your hand while the other is on his steering wheel, tapping his finger at the steering wheel. How thick his dark lashes are, how pretty his viridian hues are when they peek over at you to make sure you’re real and not a figment of his imagination.

As you approach the base, the outer level is a standard Marine military facility, with its usual array of buildings and vehicles. It’s not completely unknown to you. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been on a military base. Military personnel pinlines the large metal gate and one of the guards approaches the vehicle as Hesh fishes out his ID.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” Hesh says as you pull up to the guard. “I’ll have to check you in at the visitor’s center first. They don’t let civilians past this point without clearance.”

You nod, trying to hide your nerves as he pulls into a parking lot near the visitor’s center. He senses your apprehension and turns fully to you, gently grasping your hand. “Hey,” He reaches out to cup your chin, and your breath catches in your throat. His earthy green eyes are trained on you. “God, you’re so pretty.” His fingers gently trace your chin, and you fluster under his fixed gaze. “We’re gonna be outta here in no time, and we’ll spend the whole week together, m’kay?”

“Okay.” You squeeze his hand back, and he brings your wrist to his lips, placing a yearning kiss to your skin. It feels as if it were searing to the touch.

Hesh escorts you into the visitor center, a space designed for civilians to wait while military personnel handle their business. He gives you a reassuring smile before heading to the more secure parts of the base. You watch as he disappears into the maze of corridors, leaving you with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

After what feels like an eternity, Hesh returns, his face relaxed and his eyes bright. “All set,” he says, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

You take his hand, and he leads you back to the SUV. The tension between you two is almost palpable, but it’s softened by the warmth of his touch and the promise of time together away from the base.

The scenery changes to one of a regular suburban neighborhood.  From the white picket fences to the restaurants that line the streets to the long lines of cypress and palm trees, you wouldn’t even know the difference. 

“Oh my God, there’s a Taco Bell!” You point out and Hesh laughs at the incredulousness in your tone. 

“Yeah, it’s like any other cookie cutter neighborhood.” He turns into a cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of the biggest home on the block. It’s a mediterranean style home, classic red roof tiles, a stucco exterior with metal work accents. There’s personal touches of greenery, succulents in various sized terracotta pots, a handful of olive trees and wildflowers that maze around the stone path. 

“This is cookie cutter!?” You exclaim, as he helps you out of the vehicle. “You have a sweet crib.”

He smirks at you, carrying your suitcase with one hand and your hand in the other. “Just wait til you see the inside.”

And somehow the interior is much more obnoxiously cozy and earthy. It’s truly a delight to be in a home where beachy tones of seafoam green, turquoise and cerulean are the main color scheme. It really makes you feel like you're on vacation. 

“...and if you’re really down, we can go to the beach…[name]?” He calls out to you and your wandering eyes land back on him. He grins at you, closing the space between you two. “You listenin’?”

“Not really,” You shamelessly admit. “Your place is lovely. Like something out of a magazine.”

He chuckles as he moves past you to climb up the winding staircase with your carry-on and suitcase. “Play your cards right, and this could be yours, too.”

You turn around ripping out of your stupor, “Huh?”

“Nothin’.” He softly snorts, and you follow him the stairs as he shows you to his room. He gives you the option of the guest bedroom or his. You notice little things around the home that paths the walls, small trinkets, memorabilia and photo frames of family members. It all looks different in person, even if he’s given you a house tour over FaceTime.

Peeking into his room, you notice how everything is neatly organized, band posters of Creed, Papa Roach and the like are hung up on his forest green walls. A diffuser runs on his nightstand and it smells like something between sandalwood and amber vanilla. He’s taken all the necessary precautions to make you feel homey.

“Your room.” You smile at him, and he’s more than eager to please. The conversation flows just as easy as it does in person, even as you tell him to turn around while you strip down to get into your bikini.

He promised you all the beach time you could get, and despite the minor jetlag that nags at your slightly foggy mind, you were in the mood to sunbathe. Bonus that you get to show off your summer bod and Hesh is more than willing to peel off his shirt for some much needed skin-to-skin. Even if he can just wrap his taut, tanned arm around your waist to claim you, he’s just happy to be in your company.  

“So, what about the others?” you cock a brow at him, as he flagrantly eyes your figure while you build a sandcastle.

He shakes his head and scoffs, viridian hues trailing down the exposed parts of your skin. “Others?”

You tuck your finger under his chin, signaling for him to look at you and not ogle your body. “Yeah, your other teammates that we play with?”

“Oh right…” He gets lost in your eyes and the way they softly crinkle when you smile, followed by the melodic sound of your laughter and he can’t help but to laugh with you. “They don’t need to know you’re here. Besides, they’re preoccupied.”

You tilt your head. “With?”

He pauses. There’s vacillation behind the earthiness of his eyes. A certain type of secrecy that goes beyond the typical confidentiality that comes with being in the military. “Just stuff.”

“Okay,” You shake your head, not wanting to interrogate him. In the past, he had mentioned that a lot of the things he does out in the field require the utmost discretion and you’re not one to scruple around and find out.

You’d done enough research and background checks to know that he was a military brat, a veteran, has a dog named Riley (whom he misses terribly, but had to go on an op with his brother, Logan), and is oddly passionate about sourdough starters. He’s always open to answering your questions that don’t revolve around his work, which again you’re not entitled to know but you couldn’t say you weren’t the least bit intrigued.

The rest of the day plays out like a dream. Not a single one of your vivid, maladaptive daydreams could touch this. From the way he carries you to the waters of the Pacific Ocean and you cling to him with sea salt in your hair to the way your first kiss sends a thrill of pure electricity up your spine as the sunsets. His lips are soft, plush and salty from the water, and his fingers and hands are as calloused and rough as you had imagined them.

And you literally can’t get enough of him. Especially when he just can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. Seriously, like you need a crowbar to pry them off because he’s attached to the hip. Of course, he lets you go when you need to rinse off the beach from your skin in his shower, but he can’t help but let his thoughts wander. Your wet, naked untouched body just standing under his enclosure he’s installed in the backyard like you’re waiting to be ravaged by him. 

Because dammit that’s what you want. To have him slip in, wrap his strong arms around your waist, pebbling your nipples between his fingertips as he kisses at your neck and bends you over--

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just gonna wait here for as long as you need.” He sarcastically remarks over the sound of the running water. You giggle at the playfulness in his tone.

“Oh, I’ll take all night, baby.” You scrub at your skin with the loofa he gave you, watching as the soap becomes sudsy white foam that covers your body. And he accidentally gets a glimpse through the cracks in the bamboo casting and--Lord have mercy on his soul. If it weren’t for the body wash he’d given you from earlier, you’d be all exposed to him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He mutters, sitting on the nearby bench just outside of the shower, fiddling with his drawstrings of his swimming trunks. It’s a failed attempt at trying to quell his dirty thoughts of you and keep his wandering eyes away from the little opening he can see you through.

You swallow thickly as you exfoliate your back, but your arms are sore from trying to get back into shape before meeting with him. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to propose…

“You wanna wash my back for me?”

There’s a pause. The weight of your words and the heavy silence is agonizing, leaving you in regret and pre-dejection. 

“You sure?” He says a bit too quietly, and you hear the sound of his feet shifting against the sandstone. 

You lick your lips and nod. “Yeah, I mean only if you want to…”

He chuckles, “don’t have to ask me twice.” And you hear the scuffling of his feet hitting the grit of the sandy covered stone floor. You hold your breath as he pads on the bamboo panels over to you, and you hear the distinct sharp inhale the moment he gets a full glimpse of you. You feel your shyness overcome you knowing you are now completely bare to him, but the sound of his wet swimming trunks being casted to the side makes you flinch. 

His warmth and his scent casts a shadow over your mind as he envelops you with his arms, taking the soapy loofa from your hands. You can feel his heart drumming against his chest as your shaky breaths mingle for a bit, but the bristles scrub at your upper and lower back preoccupy your mind. You can feel how he squeezes the soap down the swell of your ass and gets to work again.

“I said, my back.” You susurrate, half turning to him and he smirks. 

“My bad, should I stop?” He presses his lips against your shoulder and peeks up at you with dampened dark lashes. You shudder at his touch. It had been long, too long. His touch is making the pyre in your lower belly ignite and you can’t help but lean your weight against him, exposing your neck to him. “I need you to use your words, sweetheart…”

You whine at his pressing need for verbal confirmation. “No, don’t stop.” He hums against your skin and he gently exfoliates over the peaks of your breast, concentrating on how they pebble under his touch. He experimentally thumbs over the hardened bud, tweaking it between his fingers as he kisses the sweet spots on your neck. It’s a pleasurable feeling that leaves you tingly and throbbing. 

You can feel his hardening length pressing against your ass and you gently brush your fingers against it, and he reflexively bucks his hips. “Eager, are we?”

“I could say the same for you!” You chirp, and his laughter reverberates against your back. He gently takes your chin to face him, and he glances down at your flustered gaze before softly latching his lips to yours. His hands, however, do not stop moving. They’re roaming over the expanse of your breast, squeezing at your thighs as he continues to kiss and squeeze you. 

It’s fucking hot the way he can’t help but intermingle his moans with you, whispering your name as he finally slips his fingers between your thighs. And you glance up at him with a half-lidded gaze, lips parted and scrunched brows. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

He’s totally melting under your fervent gaze, and the sweet, sweet feeling of your velvety folds against the rough pads of his fingers. 

“Oh, fuck…David…” You gasp, lolling your eyes to the back of your skull. His dick isn’t even in you yet and yet, his fingers are doing more for you than any other man. It’s so easy for him to work both of his fingers into you as he uses his palm to rub at your clit.

“My God, you are so wet.” He croaks, thrusting his fingers into you, past your g-spot and to press against your cervix and you collapse against him when you feel your orgasm practically jump you. He feels you spasm against him, walls fluttering against his fingers and presses his lips against yours again, taking in every one of your little moans and gasps. 

And after you’ve caught your breath, there’s a flash of amusement that takes over his handsome features. “I didn’t think you’d cum so quickly.” He tenderly kisses your shoulder, and then your cheek and up to your hair. You feel your cheeks burn, silently cursing him for his agile fingers, but the humiliation is over in seconds when you turn your body to press flush against his. 

The kiss is electrifying, adrenaline shoots through you and you’re craving more and more of him. His lips part from yours for an instant and he tucks the dampened strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Not everything all at once, sweetheart.” He grins, and your jaw slightly drops at his taunting. He bites his lips at the disbelief in your expression. He wants to ensure that you know that he’s not in it for the quick fuck, that you’re more than that to him. That he’s more than happy to please you, but the sex part. He wants to wait a little. Make sure that you’re really comfortable and you’re not feeling like you’re being coerced into it. 

You sigh as you surf through the 1000s of channels he has on 70 inch plasma screen TV while he takes a long ass piss. Like seriously, this man drinks water by the gallon. But you’re content. You’re sitting on the end of his bed, clad in his Nike hoodie that sits oversized on your body and he’s quietly admiring you from the bathroom door way.  He’s wondering how he got so damn lucky. 

He silently treks over to where you’re perched over the bed, and squats in between your legs, snaking his strong arms against you. His eyes hold an earnest expression, “I can’t believe we met over a Fortnite lobby.”

And that causes you to giggle and rehash all the late night matches you’ve had together, how he’s listened to you pour your heart out to him about all of your troubles and even Venmo’d you a handful of times out of the kindness of his heart.

He watches how your eyes droop, and how any minute you’re about to knock out cold. And soon he’s ushering you under the covers, snug as a bug under his cotton-linen sheets. He joins you from behind, the scent of you is overwhelming and he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. The floral, musky scent of your shampoo is interwoven into your hair paired with your soft snores, easily helping him drift into a deep sleep. 

And when you wake up in the morning it still doesn’t settle in. Not when you wake up to him sleepily rubbing his eyes and peering up at you with that damn grin of his, not when you’re beside him brushing your teeth over his sink and definitely not when you’re sitting across from him on the kitchen bar as he makes you breakfast with nothing but his grey sweats barely hanging off his hips.

It’s cute. The way you two feed each other pancakes and eggs, and how you share the equal feeling of bafflement when you’re facing each other, unable to undo the heap of twisted limbs. Despite his lack of interest in having you meet his teammates yesterday, he wants nothing more than to show you off. In fact, that’s all he does when he’s holding your hand out in the shopping area, buying you anything you happen to say is cute or that you try on that’s very much to his liking. 

He’s getting stopped by soldiers who are also meandering through the streets of San Diego and word gets around fast because soon the crew knew about your sudden appearance all over his Instagram story and the group chat is poppin'.

Logan: No way you flew her out here… Keegan: Kids’, got balls Merrick: I’ll have a word with you when we get back Kick: Wait…who is this again?

“I’m assuming they’re taking it well?” 

He hears your musing voice, and he tears away his gaze from his phone screen to look at you with a beguiled expression. He can’t help but be giddy, as he watches you pad over to him in nothing but his t-shirt, coffee in hand as you take your seat in his lap like it’s reserved just for you. And it feels so natural to have you in his arms like this. You fit so perfectly against him and he’s having to dent his skin with half crescents in an effort to ensure he’s not dreaming.

But reality strikes at you again when you realize that even though you are on vacation, you’re still getting email notifications of transcript requests nearing their deadlines. Your mood shifts and he peeks over at your phone screen, taking your hand in his as he brushes the hair from your face. 

“Is there anything that I can do to make you feel better?”

And that single question is enough to ignite the balmy feeling between your thighs. Your lips instantly find his as you straddle his lap on the love seat, and a small sound of surprise followed by pleasure emits from him, soon finding themselves latching to the side of his throat and he’s threading his fingers through your hair. 

You find yourself returning the favor, slipping your fingers under the waistband of his boxers as your tug at his hardened cock. Vulgarities skid past his mouth as he tries his damned best to fixate those pretty green eyes on you, but they right open when he sees you’ve settled between his thighs. Your plush lips against his aching, swollen tip. 

A groan leaves his lips as you do nothing but tease him with the tip of your tongue before taking him wholly into your mouth, but he doesn’t want to cum yet. He wants to have experienced you fully. So he’s lifting you off the carpet and laying you on the cushion, spreading you wide and dick throbs at your glistening pussy before immersing himself in it. And God, his tongue is as heavenly as his fingers are. He’s not shy at all when it comes to lapping you up like it’s his last meal, shaking you out so he can get even more of you. 

The sounds of his slurping are loud and lewd, humming against your clit right before he inserts his fingers into you and you’re quick to ride out your climax, grabbing at the short dark locks of his hair as you grind against his lips. He doesn’t even move off of you, the sensation of you writhing beneath him as you try to pry him off arouses him, but he obliges when you begin to whine. 

He lets go with a pop, your arousal drips down his chin and you welcome him back with a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as he pushes you further down onto the couch. You don’t want to stop, you crave him far too much in this instance to halt his actions. Especially when you’re realizing that he’s naked now, and you’re left in only his shirt. But his fingers are dancing over your stomach, reflexively dipping in at his touch until he gets to the peaks of your breasts. 

The fabric lifts off your body and he takes you in. “You’re seriously so stunning, [name].”

You like that he says your name. Not just some generic pet name like baby, or babe. It means something to you, to him. That you’re not just an object for his sexual gratification and you liked that.

You instantly fluster under his gaze, pupils blown leaving only the remnants of his sage green eyes. “Thank you.” You finally muster up the words after what feeling like forever. He rips his gaze from you and the thought finally comes to him. “Um,” He eyes flicker toward the staircase and then at you. “Upstairs.”

“Right.” 

--

You chew on your lip and the anticipation builds between you as he takes your hand and leads you upstairs, giggling as you scoot on his cool bed sheets, and you feel the warmth of his hard body against yours. He leans over to his nightstand and it feels like a millennia before he fishes out a condom. You peek over to look at the box and the receipt is still attached to it, brand new which explains why he was fiddling with the cardboard for so long.

“Just for me?” You chime and he pokes his tongue in his cheek, trying to hold back his grin while he tears open the foil with his teeth and rolls the latex over his hardened length. His forearms are on either side of your head.

“You think I’m just out here layin’ pipe? Of course I just bought them.” He bashfully scratches his neck and you can’t help but laugh at his sheepish grin. You lift your head and cup his stubbly cheeks to bring him into a fiery kiss and he quickly returns it, feeling his cocking enfolding at your entrance. 

You gasp at the way his length brushes against your weepy folds. “Please.” You murmur between kisses and he dithers for a second, searching your expression for any hint of uncertainty. But you’re all there, determined and in desperate need for his touch. 

“Are you sure?” He whispers, and you frantically nod. He chuckles at your insistence and he aligns himself with your sopping core, gently prodding into you until he bottom’s out and you’re both already gasping. The saccharine feeling of being filled up is unmatched, especially when the guy that’s in you is the one you’ve been dreaming about for months. 

And you don’t want him to go slow. No, that doesn’t feel like an option right now. Not after how long you feel like you’ve waited for this moment. Overwrought with desire, your fingers dig into the supple flesh of his ass and he lets out a broken whimper in the form of your name. And he seems to get the hint because he’s quickly ramming into you, your hips connect in a frenetic manner, but it’s so so so good. 

His viridian eyes are reaming at the sight of your dulcet features quickly melting into a lewd expression and milky moans that spill out from your lips. He kisses you haphazardly wanting nothing more but to make you cum and trust that you’re nearly there. He’s hitting all the right places and his lower abdomen is rubbing your puffy clit in just the right way. 

One hand on your hip and the other makes its way to wrap around your throat and, oh God, that look in his eyes and you’re totally done for. His name is clawing its way out from your throat as you feel the maddening rolls of passion drowning your soul with rapture, exposing your neck as you swell with a sigh and falter with a shudder that cascades up and down your body. Kiss after blissful kiss and Hesh feels every ripple in your body. It’s the catalyst of his peak, breaking under the pressure of your pulsating walls and convulsing body. 

It’s the warmth of your neck as his teeth latch onto the sensitive skin, your strangled cries, your labored breaths that make it feel like his orgasm was flaring red, white and blue. You watch in awe as all the dewy green in his eyes fall golden like little stars in the sunlight peeking through his blinds. You’re both panting, melting into each other, and laughter spills from your lips as you hold one another closely. And the adoration seeps out of his bones when he notices that he’s springing back to life and you’re quick to respond to his passion.

And you don’t even know how many hours it’s been. Between refueling breaks and trips to the bathroom, you literally can’t keep your hands off each other. You begin to lose count of all the positions he’s putting you in, but you know one thing for sure--it’s gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning.

Hesh can hardly shake you awake. You’re all wrapped up in his arms, sharing the same covers and he breathes you in as you nuzzle into his neck not wanting to move from your cozy position. He stares at the ceiling, counting the stars he’s placed in the form of all the constellations he knows. Holding you like this and feeling the warmth constantly spread through his chest when he takes a little peek at you. It’s driving him nuts. 

If he were being honest with you right now, he’d say that he’s done searching. That he’s found the one. But of course, he knows that you’re accustomed to the 1-2, hit-and-run, cum-and-go lowly standard of men who have fed you the same bullshit, so he reserves on that. 

Your eyes flutter open and a sleepy smile stretches across your cute features, and he brushes away the strays to gather as much of your visage that he can. 

“Sleep well?”

“I slept amazing.” You stretch your limbs like a cat down to the spread of your toes, but you feel the dull ache in your muscles and groan. “You must’ve put me in every position imaginable.”

A repentant smile plays on his lips as the warmth sidles into his cheeks. “You never complained.”

“Shut up.” You mimp, and he chuckles at the way you purse your lips and puff your cheeks at him. 

Hesh's heart tightens as he watches how your face contorts into one of sadness, the reality of your limited time together gnaws at the both of you. You wish that you could both freeze this moment—just you, him, and the quiet morning light filtering through the linen curtains. But time, as always, marches on, and soon enough, the outside world will come knocking and you’ll have to go back to your boring desk job and he’ll have to go back on his confidential ops.

"You know," he begins, his voice soft, "we've still got a few more days. How about we make the most of them?"

Your eyes meet his, and there's a flicker of understanding. You both know that this time together is precious, and neither of you wants to waste a single second. The romance between you two is budding rapidly and you want nothing more than to cling to him, getting lost in the small blip of time that you will forever cherish.

"I'm all in," you reply, your voice firm despite the lingering exhaustion from last night’s activities. "What do you have in mind?"

A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he pulls you closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. "How about a lazy day? We could just stay in my bed,” he caresses the exposed part of your tummy, leaving a wake of gooseberries, “order some take out,” he nips at your earlobe and you sigh at his touch. “and see where the day takes us."

You laugh softly, the sound like music to his ears and you clasp your arms around his neck. It’s odd. You both feel like at any given moment either one of you will vanish into thin air and you’ll wake up alone in your loft on the other side of the country. "I think that sounds perfect."

For a moment, you both fall silent, simply enjoying the comfort of being close. But the weight of the week ticking away lingers in the air, a reminder that this isn't your everyday life. It's a bubble, fragile and fleeting.

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Whatever happens after this week... we'll figure it out, okay?" His heart tugs at the brimming tears in your eyes. He knows you’re trying to withhold all your pent up feelings and he wants nothing more than to help you squash the negativity that holds more space in your brain than it should.

You nod, your hand finding his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, we will." And you mean that.

With that, the two of you settle back into the warmth of the covers, letting the world outside wait a little longer. For now, it's just the two of you, and that's more than enough. 

And just as you two had expected, the week flies by like it’s nothing. Days, afternoons and evenings of lovemaking, dancing on the beach, and him expertly instructing you on how to make the perfect sourdough loaf. How you whisper to each other about your deepest, darkest secrets. And he finds himself opening up to you about how he’s always felt like his neglectful upbringing made him slightful resentful and hardened. Oh how the tears flow at the admission that follows. 

You learn that Hesh thinks he’s everything that his father is not, how his brother, Logan is the Golden Pony boy but he doesn’t blame him for it. How sometimes he wants to push away his little brother more than anything, but he’s all he got left. Your heart aches at the thought of him keeping all of these emotions pent up, so you listen to him and hold him tight; dewy eyed, tear stained and puffy. 

These were the types of memories you wanted to create with your dream partner. It’s whimsical, light yet heavy, but not uncomfortable. It’s like eating the most luscious dessert, but its weight holds pleasantly in your stomach. 

But it leads you back to where you had initially met. The airport.

The hustle and bustle is muted as the both of you sit next to each other, snugged up as he traces patterns onto your jeans in an attempt to calm you. He doesn’t want you to leave. In his mind he’s already thinking of all the time you’re going to spend in the future--and you? 

You’re already withdrawing. You’re thinking that there’s no way in hell that this will thrive. Living in two different parts of the country was not ideal for a budding relationship. For an online friendship, sure, but this easily became more than that.

“Hey,” He nudges you, and your eyes flicker up to meet him. He can sense how your energy has changed, and how you’re detaching from him and he hates it. “Stop that.” He makes you face him and your eyes are distant.

“Stop what?”

His stomach lurches. The doubt creeps back into your mind, and you feel yourself succumbing to the emptiness that you’ll endure when you get back. You’re trying to protect yourself from the inevitable heartbreak and pain of saying goodbye and he sees right through it. His eyes soften, but he’s determined to shake you out of your gloomy state.

“Stop thinking this won’t work,” he says firmly, continuing to draw the patterns into the fabric of your jeans. “I can see it written all over your face, and trust me, I get it. But we’ve got something here--something real, tangible.” His voice falters just slightly as he racks his brain to find the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this…about us.”

The life in your eyes returns a bit more and he knows he has you hooked onto his words that causes your heart to skip a beat.

“This week…it’s been everything I’ve imagined and more.” He cringes slightly at the corniness of his words, and you can’t help but chuckle a little. He’s being so sincere, and you feel yourself choking up. “And I know we’ve just met, but I feel so comfortable with you.” He rolls his eyes a bit at his own words. “Like I’ve known you forever.” And you giggle again, nodding along with him.

He is right, of course. It really does feel like coming home, and you could get used to that feeling.

“I don’t want this to end, I don’t want to go back to talking behind a screen and twiddling our thumbs, wondering when our communication is going to dwindle.” Hesh says, facing you now. “Look, I know this might sound forward,” Your chest tightens at the earnesty in his expression and his words. “But I want to make this work. Like, really work. Like I want you to be here, with me.” He runs his fingers through his short cropped hair and he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. “I want us to figure out a way to move you out here--whenever I’m stationed, wherever we need to be.”

You feel a surge of mixed emotions--fear, hope, relief? It’s enmeshing and turning in your stomach. It’s what you want to hear, but you’re terrified. 

“David, I…I don’t know…” You croak out, feeling the tears cascade down your cheeks, but he shakes his head and wipes them away. 

“You don’t have to decide right now, [name].” he reassures you, and you feel your throat tighten at how donnish he’s being. “I just want you to know I’m in this for the long haul. I’ve found the one,” He softly smiles. “And it’s you.”

And it’s like a freakin’ dam burst or something with the way you’re crying, but it’s tears of real relief. The idea of staying with him to build a life together, it’s not something you went as far as even imagining. Not until now.

“No bullshit, [name]. I’m not up for losing you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you profess, but your voice trembles with the heavy weight of your feelings. “But the thought of leaving everything behind…it’s a lot to take in, y’know?”

He nods. “I know it is,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “And I’m not asking you to do anything rash. I just want you to think about it. To know that I’m ready to make this work.” He squeezes your hand. “Just say the word.”

You let out a shaky exhale, and nod. “Okay.” You laugh a bit as he dabs away at your tears again. “I’ll think about it.”

His face lights up with a brilliant smile as he kisses your wrist and then pulls you into a tight hug. The sound of the announcer calling your flight ripples through your little moment and reality sets in again. This time with hope. Hope that something real will flourish from this.

As you pull away and walk to the terminal together hand in hand, you pause to stand in front of him. He easily towers over you and you remember how he looked when he picked you up when you touched down. He cups your face and softly kisses your lips, letting go too soon to place a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Text me when you land.” He caresses your cheek and you nod with a small smile on your face. Your heart aches when he pulls away, his pinky lingers for a second before he lets go, but it’s filled with something new.

His eyes linger on you as you become smaller, boarding the plane and you turn around once more to find that he’s still watching you. His expression is a mix of longing and resoluteness. You wave, and he returns it with eyes full of silent promise.

As you finally step into the plane, you can’t help but wonder if this is really just the beginning of your new life.

masterlist

mini taglist: @milkteaarttime @keegansshark

[brucewaynehater101]

I know there’s a bunch of stuff about Bruce being oblivious about Tim being his parent. I want to see the moment of dawning realization. (This might have been addressed.) I don’t know if it’s a slip of the tongue where he calls Tim “Dad” or someone in the know casually asking Bruce about his parent (referring to Tim and maybe even Bruce answering without thinking about it and then realizing what he said). I want to know if Bruce freaks and tries to establish himself as the parent, only for it to backfire horribly, or if he makes a family tree and stares at it until he starts to have those optical illusions behind his eyes that you get when you look at things too long.

In the Tim is Bruce's parent AU, there is a semi-established point where Bruce finds out. It's after the BruceQuest. I'll go more in depth below, but I wanted to acknowledge that I'm totally chill if people utilize any of the ideas for their own fanwork (and thus have a different "discovery" method). Feel free to write or draw about whatever scenario inspires you most.

Anyways, the semi-established one already cooked up occurs because Tim has a famous reddit account. From years of receiving and then finally giving advice to other parents, he's established himself on a few parenting threads. His account has become something of a legend, especially for his advice with superpowered kids. He hasn't asked for advice for a few years and mainly just helps other parents out. From his past requests and his more recent advice giving, everyone knows that the kid he is raising is quite the handful. The kid sneaks out, gets hurt often, doesn't sleep, doesn't eat, destroys things when mad, screams, pushes away others, and isolates. The legend account states that they adopted their kid and, after establishing rules and open communication, have been doing much better with the extremely traumatized child.

Bruce, who's returned from the timestream and realized how important family is (and how much of a lacking dad he's been), goes to reddit for advice. He finds this really famous account with an extremely traumatized kid and realizes a lot of the advice (and perspective of where the kid is coming from) is helpful to Bruce's relationship with his own kids. Tim and Bruce befriend each other unknowingly until Bruce asks for advice that is pretty similar to Tim's siblings.

Tim suggests Bruce implement specific advice to deduce that Bruce is the account he's befriended.

Tim has a mental breakdown for a bit cause of that.

Bruce notices that his online friend is being distant and becomes a bit sad. He's suspicious, but he's trying to respect boundaries now. Besides, this account is at least five years old (Tim is eighteen now and started when he was thirteen).

I don't have quite the method of discovery set, but Bruce finds out both that it's Tim's account and that the "kid" is actually Bruce (although feel free to add misunderstanding shenanigans and angst where Bruce thinks Tim's been hiding his kid from him for that long).

Bruce, understandably, does not take this well. A child should not parent an adult. The fact that Tim did is a failing on Bruce's part. Bruce tries to correct this by suddenly being a parent to Tim (and ignoring some of the advice/habits Bruce has picked up from Tim). This is frustrating for both parties. Tim is an adult and has always been allergic to parenting/authority. He would rather have a fake uncle than a parent who tells him what to do (I know this isn't the actual reason for the fake uncle). Bruce doesn't know how to parent a child like Tim either.

Suffice to say, their relationship falls to part for a bit while they both try to work through the new dynamics and emotions. Tim is trying really hard to let Bruce be a parent to Tim, but it's just not their relationship. Tim has always been the parent. It feels condescending, belittling, and restrictive.

The entire time Bruce is trying to change their dynamics, he's getting the sense that Tim is only letting him do this in the way that a father let's their kid make mistakes or decisions so that they learn a lesson or practice. It doesn't feel genuine.

Eventually, they manage to figure out the new limits of their relationship and new boundaries. Bruce will always be Tim's child, but Bruce doesn't have to acknowledge Tim as his dad. He never did before.

But, yes. Bruce does spend many days after the realization blankly staring in space as his entire worldview shifts, and he goes over every interaction he's ever had with Tim

[barblaz-arts]

Stephanie Beatrice had played my 3 favorite characters (Rosa Mirabel and Vaggie) and since I watched Encanto and B99 I have my head canon that Vaggie have both Rosa and Mirabel personalities.

Any way, I just want to know what is your head canon or theory about her? ( specifically about Lute calling her weak and why the other exorcist hate her)

Since she is your girl, I would love to read your essay about her.(I’m joking you don’t have to write that much I just like to read your post)

Thank you

"My girl"... Am I just "that one artist who's the biggest Vaggie stan" to you guys? (I won't mind it!)

Oh man! I do have some ideas! A lot of my headcanons were already kinda sorta mentioned in my fic/art tho, so sorry if you're not getting a lot of new info

- I have this headcanon that Vaggie's always been "softer" than the other Exorcists, which is what I assume Lute meant when she said she "always knew [Vaggie] was weak". I know it probably has more to do with how little time each episode has, but what if Lute was so ready, already behind Vaggie when she let that kid go, because she knew this wasn't the first time Vaggie spared a sinner? Maybe that was just the first time Lute actually caught her. Maybe she's always had her suspicions, when Vaggie's kill count would lower every year, and she'd sometimes find Vaggie saying a sinner got away somehow despite cornering that demon moments ago.

- although she's gotten used enough to her lack of depth perception when it comes to her hand eye coordination, especially when fighting, i like to think her reading ability could never truly go back to the way it used to be, so she has trouble reading/ writing/texting (if you notice, i always showed instances of this in my fic ;> )But because she's the hotel manager she still has to deal with them because of paperwork and shit, so she has prescription glasses that help. I'd wanted to include a scene in the First Guest where Vaggie almost cries after seeing Charlie thru the glasses for the first time, because she didn't think Charlie could be any more beautiful, but i scrapped the idea because I couldn't expand the concept enough to an actual scene that could be relevant to the overall fic. I probably should have just mentioned it in a paragraph or something, but by the time i remembered id already posted the chapter I intended to add it in. Maybe I'll use it for another fic.

- she prefers femme clothing so she doesn't really have a reason to do this, but she learned how to do all kinds of ties so that she could do Charlie's whenever

- she grew her hair to compensate for her lost wings

- she wasn't exactly a great cook before she Fell, but she was pretty capable when she lived alone in Heaven. Cooking for Charlie tho gave her the motivation to get better and actually enjoy it

- an angel trait that she could never truly abandon is being a stickler for rules. She's very strict on everyone and herself with these things, within reason. So even when she and Charlie started dating, she insisted that they can't sleep together until they've had their third date. When they're on the clock, they have to be professional and avoid flirtatious advances in front of staff and guests. Charlie didn't mind because she prefers privacy too.

- Vaggie's physical appearance slightly changed gradually the longer she stayed in hell. As an angel, her sclera was paler, her incisors duller, and her skin grayer. But as time passed, her sclera got more and more peach/pink, fangs sharper, and skin more purple toned

- i still like to think that Vaggie's old backstory back when only the pilot was out (having died in 2014 in her early twenties who worked as a sex worker in El Salvador) was still true. Maybe it's just because I've liked Chaggie since pilot, and I've grown really attached to that backstory. I also just really don't want Vaggie to be Heavenborn for some reason. Among the cast she just seems the most grounded to reality to me, so having her revealed to have never been human and born "divine" just doesn't seem right to me. I also just think it'd be cute and funny if it turns out she's chronologically the youngest in the hotel even tho she's basically everyone's strict not-mom.

- idgaf what Adam says, I wanna think that "Vaggie" is short for "Evangeline". I used to have these 2 coworkers in their late 50's to 60's who had Evangeline as their government name, but one of them goes by "Vanj" and the other "Vajee". Being older Filipino women who aren't really too fluent in English, they never thought there was anything wrong with that when they grew up with their nicknames. I like to think that the case was the same if Vaggie used to be human. I'm not sure how common English is in El Salvador, but I'm willing to bet it's possible she could have been given that nickname as a kid by an older family member who didn't know a lot of English. Also Evangeline makes more sense to have been the name of an angel cmon now...

[patchiko]

I can't stop thinking about Princess Mononoke AK!Jason, dude is just so feral and full of anger just like San, but I like the idea of that famous scene:

"I'll cut your throat out and that'll make you stop talking!"

"You're beautiful."

But with a reader who had never seen his face before, maybe they save him and he scold them for it and threaten them, but reader is just to mesmerized and busy losing blood to care.

YOURE FEEDING ME DAWG— I swear i needa write a fic of Ak!Jason and a Civilian!Reader or smthn cause youre so rightfjorbdkdjdjd.

but i dont think ak!jay would threaten someone he cares about. it’d make him feel like his time with the joker rubbed off on him too bad :(

HOWEVER. short fic of this bc i LOVE THIS so BAD

“You’re So Beautiful.” / Eyes Are Windows Into The Soul Ak!Jason SHORT FIC SFW

tw: blood! not super in depth! but reader has a not detailed wound!

NO BETA, I DIE LIKE A REAL NIGGA!!

What you did this night will always be unequivocally, undeniably, unmistakably, DOWNRIGHT, stupid. But was it worth it? A little.

JASON was grappling across rooftops as fast as he could to his bunker; your wound wasn’t a death sentence but needed to be tended to quickly. His arm was wrapped around your lower waist, body tightly pressed against his as he zipped across Gotham. Jason had adrenaline rushing through him, especially because he could feel your warm blood seeping onto his clothing. He was so quiet, it made you wonder if you were gonna die, but tried to rationalize it with the fact that he’s never been much of a talker. He landed on a roof and propped you up against a wall as he unlocked the door that connected to the top of his bunker. Jason kept his eyes trained on you through his mask, you were light headed and his Hood showed that your heart-rate was higher then average as well. Obviously really use to this kind of action, he wasn’t sure if he hated himself for getting you involved in his Gotham gravity or the fact he couldn’t protect you. It was BOTH.

JASON wrapped his arm around your waist, then threw his other under your knees. Princess carrying you down to the bathroom. “My knight in shining armor?” You joked as he set you down onto the toilet lid, trying to ease both your nerves just a bit. “Not funny.” He grunted, crouching down under the sink to grab the first-aid kit he had under it. “Understandable..” you said meekly in return. Jason kneeled besides you, quickly making work on disinfecting the wound. “Not a big fan on dark ‘poorly timed’ humor?” He paused, and took off his helmet, damn thing was too detailed for him to see properly. He needed to work on stitching this, not know your god damn blood type and parents. His annoyance peaking, he responded sharply “I’m not a big fan of you stupidly jeopardizing yourself for me.” he knew not to look at you, just fucking knew not to. You were gonna say something— you had to—he cant— he fucking looked. They say the eyes are windows into the soul, “You’re beautiful.” Not what he expected, not even a little. Maybe a ‘How’d you get that?’ or ‘The hell happened to you?’ but that? Yeah not fucking that. It had you both staring into each others eyes for just a few seconds too long. He turned away once he felt his face burning,” God, how much blood are you losing?” You snickered.

THE Red Hood is a pretty boy, with pretty blue eyes, and a pretty face, and a pretty bottom lip.

so worth !

i loved this so bad, inbox is open for more rqs and rambles!

[cripplecharacters]

Feel free not to answer this question as it's more a research-type question, I'm just not sure how to go about finding what I need: do you happen to know any fiction books with portrayals of medium to high support autistic people that are considered realistic and positive? All I can find is rep of low support autistic ppl (unless it's in semi-educational children's books) and it's making it harder to figure out how to write medium to high support autistic ppl myself.

Hello!

When I was diagnosed, it was before the levels were used (Or at least before they were used where I lived). I suspect that I would be considered 'level one autistic' today but would likely have been 'level two', bridging into 'level three' as a child. This is all just to explain my perspective with this.

That being said, here are some of my recommendations:

A Step Toward Falling by Cammie McGovern

I just finished this book earlier today and while it isn't specifically about autistic characters, it does feature several autistic characters with high support needs as well as other disabled characters. The book is written from the perspective of two characters, one of which is developmentally disabled (Belinda). Although her disability is never specified, I do see a lot of autistic traits in Belinda. The premise of this book is a bit heavy. It's about two characters (Who are not disabled) who end up volunteering at a centre for adults with developmental disabilities. One of the things I appreciated about this book was how well rounded the characters are. Each of them has their own stories, interests, and ideas. I also like how it discussed sex and relationships in the context of people with developmental disabilities. Something to note is that this does have some sensitive topics such as ableism, sexual assault, and bullying. It is also written by a parent of an autistic child but, as far as I'm aware, the author herself is abled. I did have some conflicted feelings about specific parts of it but I'll leave that for you to make your own decisions about. Target Audience: Young Adult

How to Speak Dolphin by Ginny Rorby

I also read this book recently and I personally really disliked it. There were several scenes that made me feel very gross and I found that the autistic character was dehumanized very often. One line that stuck with me was another character about a blind character, essentially saying, "I thought she was going to drown herself. If I was blind, that's what I would do." Although the character does get to know the blind character and changes her mind, it really felt awful to read and seemed so unnecessary -- especially given the target audience. The way it talks about blindness in general bugs me. That being said, I have seen several autistic people recommending the book (Which was why I read it in the first place) so I'll include it here anyways since my opinion seems to be in the minority around this book. Target Audience: Elementary/Middle Schoolers This is a brief review from another autistic person. [Link]

Planet Earth is Blue by Nicole Panteleakos

This book centers around Nova, a young autistic girl with high support needs. Nova is a foster child who is missing her older sister and the story is told through a mix of narrative, letters to Nova's sister, and flashbacks. It's been a while since I've read this book but I remember really enjoying it (And maybe crying a little bit too). The author is autistic herself and also consulted many other autistic people with a variety of experiences, which I appreciated. Target Audience: Middle Schoolers This is a more in-depth review on the book from a reader who (I believe) is also autistic. [Link]

These are also a couple books that I've seen recommended but can't personally recommend as I haven't read them myself yet:

Real by Carol Cujec

Remember Dippy by Shirley Reva Vernick

I know it's not very much but hopefully it's enough to get you started! If anyone has any recommendations for anon, feel free to mention them in the notes.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

[elliesstrapon]

-------✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯-------

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡“ Birthday Sex „ ♪°

.・゜-: ✿ :-

✧ Pairings: Ellie Williams x Reader

✧Summary: Ellie wants nothing more than for you to have an amazing birthday; she shows you the time of your life 🤭

✧Warnings: nsfw, smut, (r! receiving/ fingering), Ellie is a sucker for teasing, oral, alcohol, swearing, dom Ellie, flirty reader, I will TRY not to use Y/n please hear me out. Also not very good at writing this stuff so you know.. Anyways enjoy :))

___________________________________

Ever since you'd turned 17, your birthday hadn't really meant much to you, the presents were cool, the cards were alright, it just wasn't anything new to you, it was the same thing time after time again.

And of course today was no different, you were 20 years old. And reasonably so; you weren't doing anything, at all.

Or.. so you thought. Since you'd moved to Jackson (two years prior), your friends insisted on making every day special. Something about "making every day count," and, "You never know what could happen" is typically what Dina and Jesse would say. You'd told them repeatedly you couldn't care less even though you appreciated it, and up until now Ellie never cared what you did for your birthday, she just followed, stayed quiet, sometimes you thought she didn't even like you at all. You guys didn't have anything special and you only hung out because of Jesse, you never talked, nor walked together or went out, when you thought about it really hard, you didn't even know if you really had an opinion on Ellie; she was just there.

Clearly, you were much more than you thought.

"Jesse, has Ellie told you anything?" You asked him, you guys were walking through Jackson, getting fresh air. "Uh.. Depends, like what?" He averted his gaze to the mountains in the distance. "She asked to see me.. like later.. at her place." You let out in disbelief. "I mean, I don't even think she LIKES me, Jesse, she never even spares a single glance at me unless absolutely necessary."

"Okay, well now, I don't think that's true" Jesse chuckled, rolling his eyes and paused in his tracks, bringing you to an abrupt stop as well. "She stares at you all the time, what the hell are you talking about?!" He laughs. "Jesse, no offense, but you're the LAST person I trust with this.. not even going to lie." You sighed. "Remember at the dance, you thought Dina'd dance with you, and just like that it was ELLIE she grabbed? Can you imagine the second hand embarrassment I felt? I had to leave." You joked. "Okay stop, I'm serious." He furrowed his brows. "In any case, she doesn't not like you, trust me, I see her looking at you all the time. You could ask any other person in Jackson and they'd tell you." He assured you.

"Whatever... Thanks." You smiled. "Anything for you" He winked jokingly. "When did she want you over? What'd she even say?" He suddenly brought up.

"Uh, I don't know, it was something like; 'Come over later, wear something nice, don't be late', type shit, it felt kinda rushed if I'm honest." You huffed.

"Weird, I haven't heard any special events round' town for tonight." He thought, watching the horizon absent mindidly. "Yeah.. Whatever she just said I had to be there at like, what? Maybe 7:30?" You tried to recall. "Well you might wanna get ready then, it's 6:00" he checked his watch. "Oh! Shit!" You gasped. "Ugh I had no idea.." You groaned. "Thanks Jesse, I'll update you tomorrow?" You tapped his shoulder, not giving him a chance to respond. "K, bye!"

You raced home, not too far from where you and Jesse had been and decided to get ready, you still weren't sure what the deal was, why suddenly your birthday mattered to her, or why you had to look nice; you just went along with it.

In the depths of your closet you found a black off the shoulder dress. You weren't aware why, or how long you had it. But regardless you slipped it on, it was slim, and fell just beneath your thighs, it assentuated your hips, it was soft, comfortable, you couldn't see yourself wearing anything else 'nicer' than that.

You slipped on your bracelets and a random silver chain necklace and tied your hair how you always did. And checked the time one more time.

‘ 7:00 ’, the clock read. You decided if you were going over, you might as well be a bit early. You left your home locking the doors and made your way to her place.

As you got closer, your heart began to pound. Anything was about to happen, good or bad, suddenly everything you thought about Ellie before had changed. You were repeating how you'd say hi to her, or how she'd react when you got there early, and suddenly that snow ball of thoughts stopped.

Ellies door. You didn't know whether you wanted to knock or just run back home. You breathed deapily, raising your hand to the door, you finally knocked a tune, like in those movies you'd watched with Dina and Jesse.. and Ellie.

Your heart began to race again, as you heard the door knob shake, you let out an equally as Shakey breath when the door opened to an oh so attractive Ellie Williams, standing— no towering over you, with her hooded green eyes and soft looking hair just barley covering her eye brow slit, you couldn't stop, just her muscular arms, and exposed collar bone, to her tattoo, that you had no backstory on what so ever, all you knew was just how she was so fucking hot right now.

"Hmmh.." she hummed. "you're early." Her voice was raspy. "Happy birthday, beautiful." She said taking a long sip from the moonshine bottle you hadn't even noticed she'd been holding the whole time.

Your face began to heat up, you suddenly felt very dizzy, "uh, thanks" you mumbled. She set the bottle of moonshine on what you assumed was a dresser next to the door. "Well? Are you coming inside or not?" She sarcastically said; as if she wasn't smack-dab in the center of the door way. She moved to the side allowing you to enter before closing the door quickly behind you.

It was a open concept type of thing, her bedroom was also her living room, her living room was her kitchen, on the contrary, it was still spacious, she had posters across the walls, her guitar by her couch, she had fairy lights hanging above her bed and a few video games by her TV at the foot of her bed on the right. "Sit where you'd like" she husked. "okay," you breathed, at this point you didn't know how to breathe at all and your words came out without any articulation.

You sat on the couch by the window, taking in the rest of her room, her decor, she sat beside you.

"So.." You started. "Uhm.. why'd you want me over..?" You trailed off and your eyes wandererd, too scared to look into her eyes in fear you'd freeze then and there. "I mean, I got all dressed up, and I don't see anything special" you joked, attempting to lift the awkwardness you casted upon yourself on your own. "Really?" She chuckled. "Yes, really" you rolled your eyes, "Who invites someone over telling them to dress up with no intention of putting in effort yourself?" You furrowed your brows at her "no cake, no decorations, what was the point?" You finally kept eye contact, counting the freckles across her cheeks like constellations, and taking in every hue in her eyes.

"What makes you think there was a point?" She grimaced before every so slightly shuffling towards you. Making your heart skip 2 beats in a second. "I don't know, you don't talk to me" your voice was low, "doesn't mean I don't wanna see you." She started. "With a pretty face like yours, who wouldn't wanna see you?" She whispered. The room began to feel warm. You couldn't think of or look at anything but Ellie, her lips, her neck, you couldn't unfocus yourself from her breath which smelled like alcohol, and yet you still wanted to kiss her more.

"You don't mean that" you lightly sighed out back, starting to feel the sweat form at your neck and forehead.

She shuffled closer to you, leaving you about 3 inches apart, her breath and body both warm. "I do" she smiled. Her arm had appeared at your side all of a sudden, you didn't even know how long it'd been there, and her words were starting to be engraved in your mind. "So what? What're you trying to say?" You raised your brow, trying to stay confident, but the space that was so quickly closing between you was making your heart beat faster and faster by each passing second. "I don't know, what do you think?" She whispered back to you, her smile never dropping; it was the prettiest, you found yourself longing for something to happen already, for her to kiss you? Maybe scootch closer to you? If that was even possible, you were an inch and a half apart, you needed her to lean in already, her strong moonshine scent coming from her small breaths, her body radiating so much heat was almost unreal. If you kept looking into her eyes any longer, you thought you'd get lost in them. "Ellie.." you huffed. You didn't know what to say, or do, you wanted to beg for her to finally do something.

She began to lean in closer, taking that as the green light and she only smiled brighter, you thought how could she be so hot and so cute at the same time? When did the tension become so high. " 'm gonna make you feel so good." She whispered before finally kissing you, so gently yet so roughly; like she'd been waiting for the moment she got to ruin you from inside and out, her lips were wet, and soft, her hands found there way up to your cheeks to cup them, every part of her was just so soft. You held onto her waist as you kissed back. Nothing filled the room but your desperate need for breath and your small whines, she bit on your bottom lip, causing you to spread them, taking the opportunity ever so quickly, she inserted her tongue, you began to moan into the kiss, her hands were roaming your body, feeling every single part of you, and all you could do was grip at her hips harder.

Your tongues danced around, sliding against eachother, if heaven were a person; you'd one the lottery, you were seeing stars, the gates of heaven themselves.

She'd started to pin you down, her knee centered between your legs causing the slightest ever contact, you felt so weak. "Shit.." you moaned, breaking the sloppy kiss. She left kisses around your lips, taking in every breath you took, her kisses started to be left from the corner of your lips to your neck, she nipped and sucked at it, every hickey she'd left was the vague image of almost a butterfly. "You're doing so good, princess" she grinned against your skin, the kisses tracing along your collar bone, "mmhn" you let out, her hands made there way up your dress, playing with your thigh and circling her thumb, out of all that'd been happening, it was the most comforting.

"Take it off" she demanded. "What?" You breathed. "Your dress, take it off" she commended again, you obeyed, you sat up slightly beginning to slide the dress off you put on not even more than an hour ago. "Fuck" she whispered. The last bit of ease you had was gone. You felt exposed.

Her kisses continued from your collar bone to your chest, "fuck you're so beautiful" she gasped against your sweaty hickey stained skin. Your hand played in her hair, roughly keeping her head in place as she left thousands more of wet kisses on your breasts. "Look who's talking" you winced at her hand cupping one of your boobs, her hand soft and gently playing with them. She smiled at your remark. She left another bruise against your skin once more, moving on to your stomach, she licked and traced kisses down your happy trail, "mmhn, god.." your whines and needy moans filled the room. "If you were any louder, Jackson'd here you" she teased, getting close to your clit, her hand was still rubbing circles up your inner thigh. Your pussy was throbbing in your own wetness, you hadn't even realized had stained your panties. "Wet already?" She smirked looking up at you, "who knew you were so turned on?" Her hooded eyes darkened. You swore you could see the amount of unresolved lust behind them now. "Who's not turned on by you?" You flirted back, spreading your legs more so she wouldn't have to ask. "You have no idea what you're doing" her voice was low, leaving kisses inside your thigh near your entrance. She was testing you.

Her kisses become long hard bites, leaving and sucking on the hickeys. "Ellie..." You whined. She looked up at you once more before grabbing the hem of your panties, sliding them off so slowly the throbbing only quickened, she had barley done anything to you and your climax wasn't far off. "I'm gonna ruin every last organ in your body" she seductively smiled.

She raised her hand towards your mouth, "suck" she said, her ring finger and middle finger near your mouth.

You agreed to her request, sucking on both, leaving a string of salvia around them. "Fuck" she groaned. Looking up at you still, "You're doing so good, babe." She whispered, she felt so weak, it almost made her angry. "Mm" you hummed still sucking down her fingers with your warm liquids. "Good" she smirked at you.

She lined her fingers up with your entrance. "You ready?" She looked to you with consent. "Mhm" you heaved.

She started rubbing your clit, her pace slow, "Ellie what the fuck, please—" you begged. "Desperate?" She smiled up at you, her pace increasing just the slightest bit, if she wasn't so slow you probably wouldn't have noticed the sudden quickness. "You listened" you said inbetween irregular breaths. "Maybe I shouldn't have" she teased again before rubbing her fingers faster.

She finally slid them in your entrance, swiftly, it caught you by surprise. "Shit!" You cried, the pleasure washing over the pain, you arched your back, trying to create more friction, somehow get her deeper inside you. "Shh, it's okay" she kissed your neck, your face, everywhere, calming you down so she could adjust her long slender fingers inside you. She kissed you one last time before moving her fingers in and out of you slowly. "You okay?" She asked concerningly, "yes, go— please" you begged, the tears pairing with the beads of sweat on your forehead. Her pace quickened, filling you to the max, "mmnh! God, Ellie, shit-" you cried again as she hit your g-spot so much it felt illegal how good she was at it. "You're doing so well" she kissed your shoulder as she pounded her fingers in and out of you much like how much your heart'd been pounding an hour ago. But much better, she scissored, and pumped her fingers in and out of you so fast, and hard, you could nearly see the end of the world. Every inch of you was trembling, your finishing near and her kisses sweet, it was so much better than a cake, or birthday presents.

"E-ellie, I'm close" you cried, your legs shaking and her fingers doing you so hard it was other worldly. "Don't" she said, suddenly pulling out. "What?" You gasped "Ellie please.." you pleaded. You needed it so bad. "Please just let me" you begged. "I'm not done, gorgeous. You think I'd let you finish without letting me eat you out?" She smirked.

"Shit" you whispered, "don't worry, I'll let you" she smiled "I just need you so bad" she started kissing you inner thigh once more, trailing up sloppy kisses until your clit again, giving the same treatment she'd did your bruised skin, she began to suck at your pussy, sucking it occasionally, her tongue circled, and ate at you, her saliva leaking from you. "God.. mmhn.." you whined as she licked and sucked faster, the circles she was leaving with her tongue turning just as lazy and needy as her wet kisses previously. "Fuck. You taste so good.." she whispered, eating you out like a full course buffay. "Ellie please" you trembled, you legs couldn't stay still, her tongue still licking your clit. "I'm so.." you trailed off catching your breath. "I'm so fucking close" you finished. You could feel it hitting your stomach so low. "Even better" she smirked, she began rubbing your pussy with her fingers as she ate you out, swirling her tongue over and over again, you were wet, and covered in sweat and hickeys.

"Ellie!—shit oh my— fuck of my god" you cried, cumming inside her mouth, "good girl" she said, swallowing every single last bit of it, "Ugh" you sighed. Catching the breath you'd missed the whole time.

"you did so good" she said, lifting her head from your pussy. "Ellie, shit." You breathed. "What'd you think I was trying to say?" She pinned her arms above you, looking down on you, she smiled at the mess she'd made. "Shut up" you sighed. "That's how you wanted to tell me?" You raised a brow, your hair completely undone. "Happy birthday" she joked. "Sorry" she apologized. "Did it work though?" She smirked. "Fuck yes" you smiled. "I'd do it all over again" you fluttered your lashes, grabbing her tatted arm, leaving a trail of kisses.

"Fuck"

___________________________________

Round 2 but REVERSED. Sorry it was so rushed this is not my best and it was so difficult I'm never writing smut again (I definitely will) sorry it sucked though😕✋

[utilitycaster]

In what way did having Laura and Marisha on 4SD damage your view of their relationship? 100% agreed on needing Laura on 4SD without Marisha asap. Slightly off-topic, but Laura is also the only cast member who's never been on two consecutive 4SD episodes. It's frankly impressive she's been able to give any in-depth answers about Imogen with how repetitive questions for her are. It's really indicative of the questions' quality that she provides answers to them before even pulling them out.

re: damaging my view of the relationship (which to be clear - I mean im*dna, not Marisha and Laura themselves), one of my issues has always been that Imogen and Laudna have for lack of a better way to put it, acted (and been treated as) as a glued-together unit but without any glue. It's recently gotten interesting and I hope this conflict that we have continues! But until recently, they've had in my opinion a dampening effect on each others' stories; they're infinitely more interesting to me as individuals than as a couple. Therefore, the way that Laura hasn't been on 4SD without Marisha since "That's Just Right" in December 2022 (and, of her 9 appearances, has been paired with Marisha in 7), and the fact that so many 4SD questions treat them as one unit, even when it's not remotely relevant (eg, the question about FCG's death) and resist the idea of them becoming more distant even if that's where the narrative has taken them (the truly egregious "please say syke [sic]" question from last night) is a real turn off, but also, I'll admit, rather vindicating. I'd much rather have a 4SD where we can treat Imogen and Laudna as individuals with their own arcs and lives, but if we must have this pablum at least I was right that there is a noted pattern of treating them as the appendages of one another with little value outside of being half a relationship on which to project. It's unfortunate, because Imogen's had some fantastic interactions with Orym lately and I'd have loved to hear about that, though Robbie's questions were extremely good and maybe he should write the non-Dorian tankard questions for a while.

I will say the one criticism here that I think isn't really important is that Laura hasn't been on two 4SDs consecutively; I think that's almost certainly just scheduling. She's got a busy acting career and a kindergartner and a lot of the work she does for CR (merch) doesn't require being in-office, so she's always been a little less frequently on the talkbacks than some of the other cast members. Even though Imogen is extremely central to the plot I didn't expect Laura to be on 4SD too frequently; I just wish she could be asked more insightful questions. I'm not getting my hopes up but maybe the Fireside might be an option for something better.

[karenandhenwillson]

I've seen so much discourse about Bucktommy and especially Tommy and it is so wild. I just want to write down some of my thoughts over all of it because that tends to help me to stop thinking about it.

"Oh, how can anyone just abandon Buddie for Bucktommy?"

Has anyone really abandoned Buddie, though? Or are they just for the moment very excited about a new and so very carefully portrait queer story line? Just because some people talk more (or for the moment only) about Bucktommy, doesn't mean they don't like Buddie anymore. They just have something shiny and most importantly canon to fawn over for the moment.

Also, I'd like to give that question back: Why aren't you all excited for a carefully and softly portrait new queer storyline about a character a huge part of the fandom—including the actor himself—hoped for years would get a queer story line?

And it's a pretty unique queer story. Of course, we had Michael figuring out his sexualtiy and growing comfortable in it right at the beginning of the series. But there are some huge differences between Michael's story and Buck's story.

For one, we ended up in the middle of that story. Michael had already done a huge part of the work of getting to know himself. He was ready to live as a gay man. And second, nothing of what we saw until season 3 was from Michael's point of view. It was all from Athena's point of view. 

So it was a "coming-out late in life" story line, sure. But it was a queer storyline from a straight perspective. And in some instances, from a very hurt perspective about it all (which are, of course, very valid emotions for Athena, May, and Harry, but it still gave the queer side of the story line a certain taint). And they did that beautifully, too, no doubt. I especially liked that the family didn't break over it, that they grew with that experience, and that Michael and Athena became great friends over the years.

But now we also have a "coming-out late in life" story line from the queer perspective! 9-1-1 is pretty much the only series I'm following right now, so I have no idea if we had something similar recently. But from all the talk I've seen, it's pretty damn unique, especially for a male bi character. So, of course a lot of people are super excited about it. Because it's honest and good representation that the writers and the actors are handling with a lot of care.

"Oh, if it were a female love interest, you'd all hate her again!"

First of all, go back read that paragraph about many people being excited about getting a queer story line again! I think that's about 40% of the answer for everyone wondering about it.

And then, of course, Tommy has now already more depth and character and background than we ever saw about Ali or Natalia. And despite some people claiming he didn't have any kind of redemption arc, he truly had a lot more of a redemption arc than Taylor ever got even if only glimpses of it were ever shown on screen. (Maybe I'll get into my thoughts about that in another post.) Not gonna talk about Abby, because I think most of the dislike for her came long after that relationship was over after she ghosted Buck (and after Eddie had shown up).

One huge difference between every love interest of Buck or Eddie we have seen in the past to Tommy is also, that Tommy gets along really well with Eddie. We've already seen a friendship develop there. That never happened with any of the women either Eddie or Buck dated before. We saw that one dinner Buck and Taylor had with Eddie and Chris, but it was very clear it was the first time, and that was over half a year into Buck and Taylor dating, probably more like nine months.

If you wear slash googles around Buck and Eddie or not, their deep friendship is undeniable. It's very much canon that they both have a hand in raising Chris. Any love interest coming in has to deal with that, and has to somehow fit into that friendship. Tommy is the very first love interest in canon we have ever been shown to have that potential at all.

I'm personally part of the fandom that thinks that Buck and Eddie have great potential in a romantic way, BUT that they are first and foremost soulmates, no matter if platonic or romantic. And at least the Bucktommy fics I've read so far have all acknowledge the friendship of buck and Eddie and Chris' role in Buck's life. With Tommy being very accepting and supportive of it. (Though, I admit I’m very careful in my selection process.)

"Oh, Bucktommy is only a steppingstone for Buddie anyway! Don't get so invested in it!"

Who are you tell anyone what they should get invested in? I also think, with the excitement right now, even if Bucktommy break up, the ship itself will live on in fandom.

And also, didn't any of you learn out of the cheating story line they settled Hen and Karen with?

There is barely any content for Henren*. And I've been looking! Most stories they are tagged in don't really focus on their relationship. And those who do focus on their relationship get barely any attention. And you know why that is? Because a lot of people can't or don't want to deal with the cheating. (I deal with it by trying to ignore it or seeking out content where it's fixed!) Do you all really want to have a second queer story line that centers around cheating?

And even if none of you care for Henren (which... I know many don't *shrugs sadly*), have you all already forgotten the real pain over Buck kissing Lucy and then not fessing up to Taylor about it right away? (Once again, I deal by either ignoring it or seeking out content that fixes that bullshit.)

I'm honestly pretty disgusted by all the speculation about 7x06 that has anything to do with Buck and Eddie cheating on Tommy and Marisol during the bachelor party. And even more so about all the fics one can find about that, or that use Tommy as a device for Buck and Eddie realizing they are in love. (Honestly, even filtering out the other relationship tag while looking for stories in one relationship tag doesn't prevent one from stumbling over those stories right now, no matter if one is currently looking for Buck/Tommy or Buck/Eddie stories. It's so fucking annoying. I've turned to only reading old Buddie fics for the moment.)

Aside from the whole cheating of it all, why do any of you think the next episode will focus on anyone else but Maddie and Chim?

"Bucktommy is so racist! But really, no surprise in this fandom!"

What's no surprise is that "racist" is once more used as a buzzword in this fandom. To the point that BiPOC fans of Bucktommy are being told they are racist for the ship they like. (Nothing new about that in this fandom either.) Honestly, half the arguments about why the ship is oh so racist either make my head hurt while I try to follow the many, many, many mental loops people are making to get there, or they just make me laugh outright.

Do some of you really believe it when you say "Buck got together with a White man instead of his Latino best friend, so of course that's racist!"??? I'm just... Are you okay? Do you maybe need something warm to drink, a snack, and a nice place somewhere in the sun far away from the internet to just enjoy nature for a little while?

As I said, I'll probably make another post about Tommy's redemption arc over the whole "He is an unrepentant racist and misogynist". That redemption arc exists and has been baked in since season 2 (even if some of people clearly lack the media literacy to see it). Though, other people already put together great meta posts about this. But maybe if there are enough of it, some people will for once acutally read and start to think instead of continuing to spew their hate.

*PS: If anyone has good Henren contant, especially fanfiction, feel free to drop me a DM. I'm always looking!

[fashion4standusers]

FFSU’s Fan Fashion Week!

*ETA: Works posted to AO3 can be tagged as "FFSU Fashion Week"!*

I’ve had the concept for this in my head for AGES but never got around to posting it. I originally planned to run it as an event during a certain time period, but I found that making it an event intimidated me out of actually making the idea happen. I just think that I’m a lot more confident in my ideas when I don’t overthink it! Therefore, instead of running an event, I’m just putting this challenge out into the atmosphere for people to take it and run with it. 

REBLOGS GREATLY APPRECIATED!

Everything you need to know is in the graphics, and here’s a plain text version as well:

Fashion For Stand Users’ Fan Fashion Week Challenge: a 7-day art and/or fic-writing challenge!

Art Prompts:

- Day 1: Runway

Draw your chosen character(s) in an outfit from a designer runway! Check the blog archive or Vogue Runway for references and modify the look however you want.

-Day 2: Subculture

Draw your chosen character(s) in the fashion of a certain subculture: goth, raver, scene kid, etc.

-Day 3: Style Swap

Draw two or more characters swapping their canon outfits, or simply wearing outfits more suited for the other person's vibe and aesthetic.

-Day 4: Historical

Draw your chosen character(s) in the fashion of another era.

-Day 5: Redesign

Redesign, reinvent, or modify the canon outfit(s) of your chosen character(s). 

-Day 6: Formal

Draw your chosen character(s) in gowns, tuxedos, and other fancy clothes. 

-Day 7: Free Space

Draw any kind of outfit(s) you'd like for your chosen character(s)!

Writing Prompts:

- Day 1: Character Study

Write about why a character dresses or looks the way they do. Why do they like the clothes they wear? Do they wear something with personal significance? How do they want the world to see them?

-Day 2: Makeover

Write about a character getting a makeover from another. Are they getting new clothes, a new hairstyle, new makeup? Is it just for fun or a sign of a bigger change?

-Day 3: AU

Write about an alternate universe where the characters are models, fashion designers, hairstylists, makeup artists, etc.

-Day 4: Disaster

Write about something going horribly, horribly wrong: wardrobe malfunctions, makeup mishaps, over/underdressing, etc.

-Day 5: Shopping Trip

Write about characters going shopping together and all the shenanigans that ensue.

-Day 6: The Event

Write about a character getting ready for  or attending an upscale event. Who are they going with? What are they wearing? How are they feeling?

-Day 7: Free Space

Write about any scenario you'd like, as long as it's about clothing or fashion!

Rules:

Have Fun!

This is obviously a JJBA blog, but feel free to use this challenge for OCs and other fandoms! If you plan to modify the prompts, make different graphics, or make your own version of the challenge for a different fandom, be sure to credit this blog or link back to this post!

Mention @fashion4standusers in all your posts to give credit! You can also tag your posts with #ffsufashionweek, and if your work is about JoJo, I would love to share it on the blog. If you post outside of Tumblr, include a link to this post!

Don't think you can do it in a week? Want more time to write longer fics, make more detailed art, or just develop your idea more? No worries, just work at your own pace! The concept of the challenge is a reference to the various Fashion Weeks that happen around the world, but by no means is it restricted to any real time frame!

Only want to write or draw for a few of the prompts? Maybe only one? Wanna work out of order? Go ahead! This is a challenge of course, but if you just aren't connecting with some of the prompts, don't force it!

Feel free to use the ideas you come up with for this into more in-depth works!

It's never too early or too late to give it a shot, and I'll always keep an eye on tags and mentions for new additions!

[darkbluekies]

i wanna start writing so bad but idk where to start do u have any tips??

Okay, so this is more of a general in depth guide for a little of everything, if you don't find anything useful in this please let me know and I will try again <3 This is more for lenghty novels (which are my main writing thing) than tumblr posts, but i think that some things here could be used for tumblr too so i'm just spewing every kind of advice i have

Before writing

If you don't have an existing idea, watching movies, series and even music videos can help bring out ideas. Watch some that you like and maybe write down some moments you liked. You can always take inspiration from existing things as long as you make it your own and not copy them.

Everyone says "read more" to develop your vocabulary and I didn't really believe it, but i notice how I feel more confident in my writing after reading someone elses work. It helps you with seeing scenes from other perspective thanks to how someone else would describe a scene. I also created a document where i write down phrases and words that I'd like to remember and use for myself when I can't come up with my own words. It can look like this!

I have always had an easy time for creating stories with a red thread,. But if you need a little help planning out your story, where things should go and when to add what, models like 'Save the cat' could be beneficial. My advice, though, is to not follow it blindly because it can result in a mass procuced feeling since it can become predictable! But I feel that it can be good to have the story somewhat planned out from the start. You don't need to know everything, but just having an overlook where you want to take it is a good thing.

When it comes to characters, try to make them have different characteristics and don't be afriad to give them traits that makes them bad. There are multiple things I don't agree with when it comes to my characters views, actions or reactions, but it makes them human and that's the best thing you can do for your characters, to make them human, real, believable.

Pinterest boards are fun and easy to keep track of the vibe of your story. It helps you save pictures of characters, their clothes, their houses, everything. I have one for every of my books, here are some ideas!

Writing

My biggest advice (that i honestly should take too) is that your first version of something NEVER has to be good. Hell, you don't even have to like it, just get it done so that you have something to go off of when you remake it! You should have fun when you write. Sounds cheesy, but it's very true. If you feel that the story is draining you more than exciting you, leave it. You might come back to it in the future, but for now it's better to leave it and start over!

I have heard a tip that I haven't tried, but when I think about it, it makes sense. Someone suggested to take a book and copy it, word for word, into a document for yourself. That way, you learn to write sentences and build a story. Haven't tried it, but maybe worth giving it a shot? :)

Synonyms are your best friend!! Don't repeat yourself too much. And, instead of saying for example "she walks very slowly, not wanting to reach the meeting" you could say "she forced her legs to move despite the heavy feeling in her chest", because it makes the reader's brain puzzle together what the character is thinking!

I'll round it off before I start to spiral lol. I hope that this was somewhat helpful. I'm rarely asked about these kinds of things so when I am it all flows out without structure! :,)<3

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I'm not good at writing these but can we please see an interaction between Rollo and Trein and maybe Lucius? I really like the idea of Trein being a mentor figure to Rollo since Trein says he will keep an eye on him at the end of Glorious Masquerade. I don't know how the interaction would be structured but I'll leave that up to you if you choose to write this!

Yessss 😭 YOU GET IT, Trein could be a great mentor to Rollo…

For the last hour, Rollo had been nursing a growing migraine. The bumping music, the horde of guests, his inner voice counting off all the work still yet to be done. Each was another icy nail driven into his skull. Two glasses of grape juice were not enough to dull that buzz that clouded his mind.

Rollo had excused himself from making social rounds to fill up on refreshments—but he knew it wouldn't be long before someone came by to drag him back into the fray.

He slumped forward in his seat, catching his forehead with one hand. In his other hand, he clutched onto his third serving of grape juice. His only solace in these trying times.

Rollo exhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes shut. A silent prayer was at his lips.

Lord help me persevere. I am surrounded by idiots, beseeched to engage with them…!! Why must I endure this madness?!

A sudden softness came down on his nose.

“Mrow.”

Startled, Rollo immediately shot up. His grape juice nearly spilled, had a quick paw not catch the rim and keep it upright.

A plump cat had appeared on the table, staring at Rollo through sharp golden eyes. Its coat was a glossy black, the tip of its fluffy tail, chest, and muzzle a fine white. The cat meowed again, releasing its hold on the almost-fallen cup.

“Good day to you, Flamme.”

An older man appeared, scooping up the feline in his arms. His stern, bony face had been carved out with lines like the rings in a tree's core, his hair--streaked in shades of salt and pepper--slicked back from his forehead. He was dressed in a sharp suit and cravat, long maroon robes spilling over them.

“Mozus-sensei.” Rollo automatically straightened. “I was not aware that you were among those in attendance. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

"Quite a large number of students wished to leave campus for an important function. I am serving as the chaperone to them. Were it only one or two boys wishing to leave, I would not be needed to supervise." Trein gave a papery smile. "Ah, but it looks as though you have too many companions to keep them away."

Rollo attempted at a polite laugh behind his handkerchief. “Yes, it seems they feel the need to shower me with their attention.”

“I take it you do not favor these circumstances.”

“… Is it that easy to tell? I thought I was hiding it as best as I could.”

“You are sitting alone in a corner with nothing more than a drink in hand to keep you company,” Trein tactfully pointed out. “I understand. These events have the potential to wear one down. A moment of peace and quiet can be restorative.

"As for myself, I find that sitting down and stroking my dear Lucius helps after a long day. Would you like to give it a try? It just may soothe you as well."

Trein shifted, holding out Lucius to Rollo. The cat stared expectantly at the student, its tail swishing back and forth like a metronome.

Rollo's eyes widened. “What? No, I couldn't possibly...!"

Too late, Lucius had already been placed into his lap. The cat's body was almost liquid, pooling and settling into his new resting spot. Lucius was warm and soft, like the wings of an angel.

Rollo grimaced.

A familiar was on him, some mangy animal that had been mucking around who knows where before making contact.

"He likes to be scratched behind the ears and under the chin," Trein coaxed, demonstrating. "The head and back are safe too."

Rollo reluctantly followed Trein's instructions, his fingers sinking into the depths of Lucius's fur and awkwardly petting. Soon, the cat was purring contentedly.

“Aaah, Lucius. You’re so adorable and good with children," Trein cooed. "I think he likes you, Flamme."

"Does he?" Rollo looked doubtful--not that he had any particular interest in befriending a mage's familiar to begin with. Am I meant to feel flattered by that comment?

"Of course. I don't mind if you wish to stay a little longer and become better acquainted with Lucius." Trein motioned to the empty seat across from Rollo. "May I join you?"

He hesitated, considering. Between returning to the raging party and remaining in respite... Rollo warily glanced between his two options, and his answer immediately became clear.

"... I don't see why not," he said at last, relenting. Rollo had a fistful of Lucius's fur in his hand as he got the words out.

"Excellent. I've been meaning to catch up with you." Trein sank into the chair and folded his hands together. "Now then, how have you been? It's been a while."

The conversation that followed flowed like wine. Easily poured, and just as easily downed. It tasted clean and smooth upon his palate, clearing away the bitterness that had pervaded all day.

The glass of grape juice sat there, forgotten.

[blakbonnet]

AUTHOR OF THE WEEK: @saltpepperbeard

The second featured author of this week is the lovely, loquacious, and truly the best bestie anyone could have: Jodi ♥️ I don't know how she does it but Jodi's fics are fast becoming my most comfortable corner of ao3 to be in because she just has such a way with words, and I do think we should all let her write s3 😌 I also annoyed her into answering some questions for me and sharing her writing process:

What's your writing process like? Do you start with the beginning or the end? Do you write in order or as the scenes come to you?

So I *used* to write sequentially, ie from beginning to end, but the process has gotten more and more chaotic over the years—unhinged, one might say lol! Now, I typically start things off by drafting sections of a story, which ends up being a lot of dialogue more often than not. Like, there are *definitely* some wips in my drafts right now that are almost 100% Stede and Ed talking and nothing else lol (which I mean...staying true to their characters there if you ask me)! Then, if a bit of good description comes to me, I'll pencil that somewhere into the draft, too. And only *then* lol, if things are feeling right and the motivation is feeling high, will I actually attempt to write in sequential order—essentially just playing "fill in the blanks" and writing towards things I've drafted to mix everything all together!

...But sometimes my brain does still fast-forward and write future sections if the good ol' "shower/going to bed daydreams" strike. So it really just depends lol!

My 2014 writing brain, in Ed's voice: You are improving though! Kinda.

Favourite trope or headcanon you like to explore while writing?

...Squints at my tags on AO3 lol. If you see that almost *all* of my stories are hurt/comfort, no you don't <3. I just absolutely adore taking all the hurt Ed and Stede have gone through and soothing it with cuddles, kisses, and soft reassurances. Because man, *man,* have they both been through a lot. It's like Pandora's Box lol; once you start digging into the true depths of their hurt, you just end up with more and more and MORE. There's just so much that they both need and *deserve* to talk through as a crew—or talk through as a "two," as some have said lol, so I adore exploring that. I adore allowing them to have that space and that safety. *Particularly* with Ed getting to unpack things he faced in the earlier parts of Season 2, and with Stede getting to unpack...*anything.*

Also, because I write entirely in-universe, I'm a big fan of implementing some of the common, lovely headcanons. Ie, the crew coming to visit, the two of them maintaining a garden, the British never finding them, etc etc. I know not all of my published works reflect those, but a lot of my drafts do, promise lol!

Whose voice is easier to write - Ed or Stede? Why?

I *still* feel like I'm trying to nail down that ✨ kiwi cadence,✨ not going to lie lol! But, in sitting with this question and sort of going back and forth on it for a while, I think I'm ultimately going to have to land on Stede in most instances. Maybe because I'm one of the ✨ Stede-coded Girlies (gn)✨ , or maybe because I adore Ed so much and subsequently find it easier to gush over him narratively lol! But yeah.

Strangely enough though, I will say I find it easier to write Ed's voice when he's dealing with hurt, vs writing Stede's voice when he's dealing with hurt. I think that's because Ed is more open with his pain, and deals with it in more candid ways, whereas Stede likes to bottle things up and hide. So, it's subsequently harder to crack him open and let out everything that has backed up.

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

-Ed voice- Oooowaaaagggh.

Is coming to the table with two stories cheating? Because, I have two lol! I'm very proud of Scrumptious, and also Lovers of Beauty. The former because it was an idea that had been sitting in my head *forever* and I'm so happy it finally got realized, and the latter because it was my first go at writing other characters as well as an exploration of a very particular vein of Ed's hurt. Can't go wrong with Horny Stede and Ed in a dress either, I'd say lol!

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

Lmao: INTERTWINED. I feel like it's shown up in almost every single story I've written post-season 2, if not *every* single story. I'm just a big fan of throwing their canon quotes in my narration, with the "breathing the same air" and "love letter" speeches getting the most mileage. OH and also Stede's mermaid speech, too; "I'm here. I'm here. You're safe" assuredly gets thrown into the mix as well lol.

Also uhhhh, on a sillier note, I'd definitely say that the good' ol "fuck" gets a lot of usage lol! Ed and I 🤝 enhancing many a sentence with it.

Do you have a beta reader? Have they made you a better writer?

I do not! We die like the Badmintons.

I instead rely on myself for the long and tedious part of my process I call "combing." Ie, going over my last draft with a fine tooth comb to catch typos or any other silliness to the best of my ability.

Would I benefit from a beta reader? Probably, yes. Would I spook from having a beta reader? Probably, yes PFFF. So, combing it is!

Why OFMD 🥹

God, this show. GOD, this show. I just take such a deep and personal comfort in it for so many reasons. I think the two things that snagged me initially were: getting to see queer people just *being,* and getting to see *older* people finding love. The way that this show portrays us in such a natural, lovely light is so, so refreshing. It's like how Taika has often talked about it; there's no triumphant "coming out" type moment, there's no sensationalizing anything, and there's no spotlight on the queerness. It just...*is.* Everyone just loves whoever the hell they want, and there's no questioning or even discussing the implications of that. And I adore that. I adore the *freedom* of that. It just makes the show feel all the more personable and cozier, too.

Also, man, to see older queer people finding love...I'm going to be vulnerable on main here; I don't have a lot of relationship experience, and I'm nearing my 30's. Western Society/Culture puts this *huge* pressure on people to find the love of their life and have it all figured out by their low/mid 20's, so not fitting that norm has been quite the gut stab for me. And yes yes, I know, it's all entirely fabricated and no one has the same timeline, but it still aches to see, particularly when a lot of media portrays love within that age group, if not *younger.*

So, to see these two men nearing *50* finally finding each other after a life of emptiness and pain? To see them finally finding the person who understands them better than anyone else? And to subsequently get the comfort that somewhere, sometime, you'll cross paths with someone who just *gets* you? Ooooagh.

I think that plays into another part of the show that I adore, too. Ie, the theme that "things are going to be okay." That, no matter how dark and dreary things may seem in the moment, you could still have your mermaid moment, and subsequently end up in a cozy little inn with the love of your life. That there's so much kindness and hope and *love* awaiting you.

It's just so comforting on so many levels and I adore it with all my heart. It's a shame that CERTAIN execs and people equivalent will never be able to understand the depth and the importance; they're entirely, truly missing out.

Please head over to @ofmdlovelyletters (who also made the header) and send your love to all your favourite authors (and authors of the week 😈 watch that blog for some special letters coming your way)

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Hiii

I remember when you were posting about your Kim/Wik Twins AU and I was so hooked! There’s so much potential for angst in this AU😩🤌 I always wondered if there was anything new going on with this WIP.

PS: I’ve been following your blog for a little while (I don’t interact bc im shyy) and I love all your Kimchay WIPS and little excerpts you’ve blessed us with (they make my day everytime I see one). So I want to personally thank your brain for all these wonderful ideas and just thank you for being you 😊

send me an ask and I'll tell you about one of these WIPs!

Oh anon, you're a darling! This was so nice to wake up to <3 I actually haven't worked much on that AU since originally posting it, but you're right, there is so much angst potential in this AU between Wik and Kim. One of the inspirations from it actually came from World of Warcraft, and how the character Varian was split into two people, the other one being Lo'Gosh. I really loved how it wasn't just "this is the good side vs. the bad/feral side." Varian was polite and charming and good at socializing, but he was also vain and easy to manipulate (which was the point of splitting him), whereas Lo'Gosh was definitely a barbarian, but he was also all of Varian's strong will and ambition/motivation, and passion. I hadn't seen that kind of character splitting before, because it's usually an easy shorthand for doing a good/evil thing.

So for the purposes of this fic, Kim isn't just all the evil mafia while Wik is the sweetheart singer. Wik is very driven and tbh a little selfish, he's kind to his fans but ultimately very cold, because he grew up in a world where anything he cared about could be used against him. Both of them are still calculating in clever, but it's Wik that begins investigating Chay, intentionally using his stardom as an in, and purposefully manipulating him to get more information. He takes it to a stronger degree than we actually see from Kim in the show.

Whereas Kim is the quieter, more contained side. They both love music but Kim prefers guitar/piano over singing because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself the way Wik does, although he does write a lot of poetry/lyrics. One of the betrayals from Wik leaving is that he stole Kim's songs. The other is that he left Kim behind. He loves his brother more than anything, and Wik leaving him without so much as a goodbye was devastating for him.

Here's your slightly less than 500 words!

“You left me!” “Would you have even come with me?” Kim’s voice breaks on a desperate, “Yes!” He wants to take it back as soon as the word leaves his mouth, too honest in the heat of his moment, chest heaving with the weight of it. The only good thing about the admission is that his brother is too stunned to reply; Kim takes satisfaction in that, in the implication of it, as Wik realizes the depth of his own selfishness.  “Kim…” “I would…” Kim swallows. Days of captivity have left his throat dry. It hurts, speaking these words aloud, tearing them out of his chest to release them after all these years. “I would have. If you asked me to, I would have.”  He would have followed his brother anywhere. They were always meant to be together. Kim and Wik, two halves of the same whole, mirror images down to their names. Until Wik decided he couldn’t bear his own reflection anymore.  “Kim, I’m sorry, I didn’t know—” “How could you? You only ever think about yourself.” Kim laughs. It’s wet. It hurts, like everything else about this damned conversation. Maybe Wik was right; they were better off alone. “I thought you knew me better than anyone, but you don’t know me at all.” Maybe Wik never did. What a horrible time to realize how truly alone he really is.  Wik doesn’t speak for a long time. Neither does Kim, keeping his head bowed and his breaths measured, cracked ribs aching with every rise and fall of his chest. What a cruel joke that the first time they’re sharing a space in years, something Kim has longed for since the day Wik left, and it’s only because someone else has forced them together.  “I don’t think you would ever leave the family,” Wik eventually says, his voice quieter than Kim has ever heard it. “You’re not like me, Kim, you never wanted to leave.” Of course he didn’t. Why would Kim ever want to leave his brothers? But at least if he had, Kinn and Tankhun would have had each other. They wouldn’t have been alone, not like Wik is now. Not like Kim is, forever missing his other half. Neither of them were meant to be alone. "It doesn't matter anymore." "Yes it does. Kim. I never meant to hurt you. I—" But there's no more time to talk because their captors are walking in, and Wik is throwing himself in front of Kim, both of them bound and unable to put of any kind of fight. Not that it would have mattered; Wik already got himself kidnapped. Too nosy to stay out of the family completely, but apparently the idealistic fool didn't bother to keep up with his martial arts. Still. Despite blaming him for the current predicament, Kim is a little bit touched that Wik is trying to protect him now. Too late to matter, maybe, but it's something.