#that I've only done a handful of band scenes

[enhascloud]

HOW TO (NOT) BE A BROKEN HEART.

— a lee heeseung serie; prologue.

why should you be heart broken when i’m by your side ?

SYNOPSIS ・ Heartbreak aren't a easy thing. well.. breaking up with your boyfriend wasn't the easiest thing to be and was absolutely not the thing that you wished for. and of course it was the most sadest thing you experimented (because you were in love of course.) but suddenly the sad feelings left your body when this boy from the theatre club get into your life on this rainy day.

PAIRING ・ theatre club member!heeseung x student fem!reader

GENRES ・ romance, fluff, slice of life, college au, strangers to lovers!

WORDS COUNT ・ 2138 words

WARNINGS ・ bullying, jealousy, anxiety mentionned, soft!beomgyu,

FEATURING ・ ENHYPEN jake, sunghoon, jungwon & ni-ki, TXT taehyun, beomgyu, ITZY chaeryeong (more will be added later..)

STATUS ・ UNFiNiSHED / ONGOiNG / iNCOMPLET

DATE STARTED ・ 18/09/2024

TAGLIST ・ @r1kification @charlizefaye @starfallia comment to be added to the taglist !!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >>

PROLOGUE. LOVE ISN’T A EASY THING..

Saying that romantic relationships were one of your strong points will most certainly be a huge lie. You've never really had a serious relationship, and your last relationship was a few years ago now. So obviously, saying that you were currently dating Beomgyu, one of the most popular boys in your high school, was quite strange.

Beomgyu was one of the best students in his class, if not one of the best. He was a member of a rock band with four other students in his class who happened to be his best friends, and of course, being a popular student means countless girls interested in him. And, looking at you next to him, you didn't know what to think, you were a shy girl, who spent most of her time reading books. The complete opposite of Beomgyu, so obviously he was quite curious to know that you were going out with him.

When your relationship was made public in high school, all the girls who were interested in your boyfriend gave you a number of dirty looks, and you quickly understood that they just wanted your relationship to end quickly. Apart from the girls, the boys around never took their eyes off you, well... no one took their eyes off you because the scene was so unimaginable.

Your hand was in his, and just feeling all his eyes on you, you felt a lump forming in the pit of your stomach because of the stress and unease you felt inside of you. In truth, you only had one desire since you entered the high school establishment. To hide.

Noticing your discomfort and your slight withdrawal when Beomgyu advanced through the corridors, he let go of your hand simply so that his arm came around your shoulder while he whispered in your ear. "Don't worry about all the looks you want to get okay? They're just jealous to know that such a beautiful girl as you is finally taken by the most incredible boy in this school.." and, onwards from what he had just said, a kiss had been placed on your cheek.

But unfortunately, beomgyu's words had done the opposite rather than reassuring you. You looked up at him, and without knowing why you felt almost your whole body trembling, imagining what you could potentially feel as the day progressed simply because you knew how much girls could be pests when it was about the boys. And unfortunately, Beomgyu was one of the most popular with girls.

"Beomgyu.. I don't feel comfortable.. all the girls are looking at me.." you started to explain while you felt close to crying while tears were present on the corner of your lips. And right now it was at this very moment that you hated being more sensitive than normal. "I've already explained to you... the girls will possibly hate me if she doesn't already hate me and... I'm afraid of what could happen to me during the day when you're not with me.. "

"Don't worry, I promised you that at least one person would be with you all the time when I wasn't there.. Taehyun is in your class, right?" beomgyu asked you, and after a few seconds you ended up nodding your head, responding with a yes. "In this case I would tell him to pay attention to you during lessons, and to defend you if ever necessary, but believe me you wouldn't have any problems, okay?"

Despite everything Beomgyu could tell you to reassure you about the day ahead, your mind kept creating many horrible scenarios where you found yourself the victim of several things because of the girls in your class who were jealous . And just with what you imagined you already hated the fact of having agreed to reveal your relationship in broad daylight, but just at this very moment, with all his eyes on you, you felt extremely bad at it. You were comfortable and you really didn't feel in your element. You just wanted to hide far, far away from everyone. It wasn't even eight o'clock yet when, deep down you knew, the day was going to be very long.

Noticing every detail about your discomfort, Beomgyu tried once again to reassure you, but nothing worked, you were stuck on the idea that, after leaving Beomgyu to join your class, you will be the victim of everything the girls can tell you. to suffer, despite the presence of his best friend in your class.

The corridors starting to empty due to the first ring that would soon be heard, Beomgyu took your face in his hands and delicately placed his lips against yours, a smile appearing lightly on your lips at this contact that you liked so much , but he finally cut contact a few seconds later, delicately caressing your cheeks. "see you at lunch break okay sweetie? and don't worry everything will be fine i promise, taehyun will be there for you" he whispered before quickly running towards the stairs to get to his classroom.

And you had to do the same thing since the time was getting closer and closer to the start of classes.

The halls were now almost empty, and you said surprised to notice almost no one in the halls you had taken to get to your classroom. When you looked up, you noticed that Taehyun was leaning against the wall, his phone in his hand, probably waiting for you, as you had told Beomgyu before he disappeared. And your stress decreased slightly while a smile appeared on your lips, reassured.

Except that, as soon as you raised your hand to wave at him, you were pulled to the right suddenly, and it took you several seconds before you understood where you could be. But noticing the walls and the numerous sinks, you quickly realized that you were in the girls' bathroom. The only problem was that you had just been dragged here, and you hadn't just gone there alone, so obviously this stress had quickly taken over your body.

Without even having time to understand, you were locked in one of the cabins present and, despite all your efforts to get out, you couldn't do it. Your stress began to turn into fear as you began pounding on the door, hoping that the people who brought you inside would let you out. "Hey, that's not funny! Let me go, classes will start soon!" You shouted but no response was heard in return.

The only thing you heard was much too high-pitched laughter and running water. And you froze almost instantly as you realized what was potentially going to happen, while the girls on the other side of the booth seemed to be laughing a lot more as it went on and were whispering among themselves. Your hands had started drumming against the cabin door again but still no way to get out. "It's not fun let me out!!" Did you scream a second time hoping they would let you out.

"Don't dream, we're not going to get you out now!" Had said one of the girls before their laughter resumed, the water still flowing, and just hearing the sentence made you hate the girl no matter who she was.

Despite your many efforts the door still didn't seem to open and, after what seemed like long minutes, the sound of water finally stopped. Which quickly made you panic since you imagined the worst, and unfortunately you started to cry because of the anxiety.

"Go ahead and do it, she deserves it anyway!" A girl's voice said from behind the cabin door.

"But I'm not bad! It was Syeon's idea! She should be the one to do it!" A second girl's voice said as you really wondered what was happening.

But you didn't have enough time to understand that you received the contents of a basin filled with water on your head, which directly wet your hair and completely ruined your uniform.

From the other side of the cabin, the girls' laughter had started up again as they couldn't believe that one of them had finally just thrown all the water at you. And quickly the laughter had faded in the toilets since they had finally left, but one of them had stayed longer since you could still see her converse through the space which separates the floor from the door of the bathroom.

"That's because you're dating Beomgyu." she said without any kindness present in her voice, and as the bathroom door opened she added. "We'll start again soon, don't worry about that."

And then, there was no more noise around you. Except that, even if you tried, you couldn't open the cabin door.

Only two minutes had passed, and you ended up sitting on the toilet and just letting the tears roll down your cheeks while you didn't even know what to do. It hadn't even been an hour since you made your relationship with Beomgyu official that girls were already starting to make you experience this type of thing? No, it wasn't possible... you weren't one of his daughters who boasted about going out with a popular boy... you were actually quite the opposite.

Your hope continued to make you imagine many things and your hands, which were resting on your knees, tightened on them, gripping your tights. You weren't angry, you were just... completely lost and on top of that you were going to be late for the first class, or weren't even going to be able to show up in the classroom.

Your cries could be heard throughout the restroom, but when the door opened again you tried to make as little noise as possible, trembling at the idea that it was one of his daughters again. come to humiliate you once again.

"Is anyone there?" Came the voice of a girl who didn't seem to be mean at all and understanding this you got back up and knocked on the cabin door. "Yes..! I.. I was locked in a cabin by some girls.. I can't get out.."

"Oh...! I'm going to find a teacher and I'll be right back!" She replied before the door closed again and you found yourself alone in the room again.

After about ten minutes, and the bell announcing the start of classes, the bathroom door opened again and the voice of a teacher was heard on the other side.

"Are you sure there's a girl stuck in the Chaeryeong toilet?" She asked as she walked towards the cabin you were stuck in.

"Yes...! It was towards that cabin...!" She replied.

And almost immediately the two girls had noticed something blocking the door handle of a cabin so quickly, it was removed and the door in front of you opened.

Chaeryeong brought her hands to her lips to cover her mouth, noticing the state you were in while the teacher took you out of there, taking your bag at the same time. And although you were happy to finally leave the bathroom stall your crying hadn't stopped as you left the bathroom.

But you were quickly stopped because a boy's voice had shouted your name, and when you turned around you were surprised to notice Taehyun who had quickly arrived towards you.

"My god, what happened to you?!" He asked when he saw the state of your uniform, drops of water falling against the floor. "Do you want me to talk to Beomgyu about this?" He asked you and strangely you shook your head to mean no, probably too humiliating for your boyfriend to know about this incident.

"Mr. Kang, please go back to class," said the teacher next to you, who was holding your arm, "Chaeryeong will come with you, she is also in your class, and tell your teacher that your classmate is in the infirmary please."

"Yes Ms. Yang.." he both replied before they left towards the classroom, leaving you alone with the teacher.

You went down the stairs and after several minutes you ended up in the infirmary. On the way, the teacher asked you many questions to find out what had happened to cause you to unfortunately find yourself in a state like this, but the lump in your stomach that you had felt a little earlier had you completely prevented from speaking.

Fortunately she didn't insist, and when you were in the hands of the nurse she left you, leaving the infirmary to go to her classroom.

And it was at that precise moment that you understood that, unfortunately, the day was going to be very, very long. But you also understood something else...

There was absolutely nothing easy about love.

And that, only because of his daughters who were completely jealous of the idea of ​​you being in a relationship with Beomgyu..

MASTERLIST | NEXT >>

Screaming inside because it’s only the prologue and I already love reading this serie omg

I hope that you enjoy reading it and that you liked how the prologue was going ! I hope to see you for the next chapter or for some other worlds that I’m writing

don’t forget to comment if you want to be added to the taglist

Love y’all 🧸

See you soon, Rain 💗

[kindahoping4forever]

Michael swivels around in his computer chair. “Is it an update on whether or not you’re still the worst? Because I can go ahead and confirm that for you.”

LMAOO this has me cracking up he totally would say that

😁😁 It never occurred to me how few times I've gotten to write full band scenes and omg I had so much fun coming up with banter! I ended up having to sacrifice another band scene for the sake of editing but it was more of them just giving Luke shit and it was a good time 😂😌

Laying Here In Nothing But My Feelings

[mystra-midnight]

— CALL ME LITTLE SUNSHINE | part i

pairing: rockstar ! eddie x innocent ! reader

tags: pet names. dirty talk. making-out. fingering. oral; (fem receiving). marking; (hickeys). loss of virginity. corruption kink. semi-public sex. eddie is entirely pussy whipped.

w/c: 6.7k.

a/n: welcome to part one! it's been a hot minute since i've posted anything as thought out and in-depth as this so if you could take a few minutes to reblog or comment some feedback, i'd very much appreciate it. ♥

"Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin!"

The ever-growing crowd had been calling for the band the entire time you'd been waiting in line, which, after looking at the watch tucked beneath the sleeve of your cardigan, had been almost an hour and a half. The chanting had gotten so loud that, at some point, you'd stopped being able to hear yourself think, instead relying on Steve's large hand clasped around your own to tell you when to shuffle forward.

You felt out of place, unlike Steve and Robin. Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in leather and chains; piercings here, there, and everywhere; fishnets; big black platform boots; heavy make-up; and tattoos. And then there was you, dressed in a simple summer dress, hugging a knitted cardigan around your shoulders, wearing strappy sandals, and looking like someone right out of the Stepford Wives.

Other people noticed; you'd swear it, though no one said anything. As you looked between people, you caught a few of them looking at you, their expressions a motley of emotions that made you shift uncomfortably. Metal music had never been a particular favourite of yours, and concerts like this—where people were packed in like sardines—definitely weren't your preferred scene. The thought of being alone, snuggled beneath a blanket, and enjoying a glass of Moscato was much more appealing.

But you'd promised Steve and Robin that you'd come.

Well, no, not exactly. You hadn't promised either of them anything; instead, you'd given in to their constant whining. Steve and Robin had hung themselves from your legs as though they were dramatic, tantruming toddlers, pouting, and begging you to go with them. And after promising to cook dinner every night for a week—no, wait, a month!—your resolve finally broke.

That was how you found yourself finally walking through the double doors of the stadium. A gust from the air conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, blowing your hair into your eyes and lip gloss, but it was a welcomed relief.

"I think that took literally forever." Your feet were already aching, and the thought of standing for another two hours was mentally and physically exhausting. Sure, you'd listened to some of Corroded Coffin's songs and thought they were good, but you weren't looking forward to standing in a sweaty crowd.

"Right. That was crazy, and they only have two scanners going. It's going to take forever to get everyone inside." Steve replied. His fingers tightened around yours when he felt your strides slowing, and he turned to notice your attention was on the merchandise display a few feet away. Following your gaze, he found the band tees hung up on a pinboard, images pressed onto the fronts and backs of each one. Some showed the band's tour dates and the cities they were scheduled to stop in, while others had stylised versions of Eddie's face.

Steve practically beamed with pride. He was proud of how far Eddie had come since they'd met—from school freak to famous rockstar. It was a big change, but a well-deserved one, given all the shit he'd been through. Somehow, he'd remained modest and hadn't forgotten where he'd come from; he'd gotten his uncle out of the trailer and into a two-bedroom apartment; he thanked his uncle and friends during every interview; he'd even forgiven his childhood bullies, though he never forgot what they'd done to him.

"Come on," he said while tugging your hand. "We should get in before the show starts," he said when you hesitated, teeth tugging on your lower lip as you continued to eye the shirts, bandanas, and posters on display. It was called the Upside Down Tour, and the band had released a limited-edition shirt for the tour.

"I want to get a shirt; this is the first concert like this I've ever been to. I want something to remember it." You explained. You wriggled your fingers in his, hinting that you wanted him to let go. If you'd have blinked, you might have missed it, but you swore that Steve and Robin shared a look—the kind that carried secret conversations and amusement.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, painful and sudden, while your mind raced to a dozen terrible thoughts. What if they regretted bringing you along, even though they'd practically begged you to go? What if they were angry? Fuck, what if they hated you? You must have looked like you were about to pass out because Steve took pity on you, reassuringly squeezing your hand as he stepped closer.

"Shit, sorry," he apologised with a crooked smile. "It's all good. We can pick one up after the show, okay? We need to get inside before security locks the doors."

"Oh," you answered. You ducked your head to hide your face, which felt like it was burning with embarrassment. You suddenly felt childish for letting your anxiety get the better of you, especially given that this was Steve and Robin, who had been nothing but kind from the moment you'd first met them. "Of course. After the show."

As though she sensed your distress, which she more than likely did because you radiated emotions like the sun radiated heat, Robin grabbed your other hand, lacing her fingers with yours, and gave you a sympathetic smile that mimicked the one on Steve's face. You loved them, but sometimes you hated them. So often, Robin and Steve seemed to be on the same page, on the same mental wavelength, having entire conversations with the lofting of a brow or half-smirk while you were on your own, a stranger looking in.

You tried not to think about it and tried desperately not to let negative emotions get the better of you tonight. You were at a concert with two amazing people, about to see a fantastic band play live. It was going to be a good night. Steve showed his ticket to one of the women managing the traffic flow, who motioned down a steep staircase into a standing pit right in front of the stage.

As you predicted, the crowd was already massive; there were too many people to fit comfortably within the stadium, but no one would complain as long as everyone behaved. And everyone would behave if they were able to see the band play. It wasn't long before the lights went down, and the crowd's cheering rose to a thunderous crescendo.

You felt the violent vibrations of the bass guitar as the bassist began the opening rift—how it rattled the ivory cage around your lungs until your entire body swayed to the rhythm. A sudden fireworks explosion dazzled and blinded you as the crowd rushed forward. Then the atmosphere turned electric, casting a weaving web on the crowd and drawing them in.

When the smoke settled, you saw the band had taken their places on stage, dressed in black denim, leather, chains, tattoos, and wild hair. They preened beneath the attention of their peers as the frontman and lead singer, Eddie Munson, moved to stand before a microphone. "I hope you're ready to rock, Hawkins, 'cause we're not stopping until the cops come knocking!"

Steve grabbed your wrist and dragged you in front of him, pushing you closer to the stage. That was how you found yourself standing front and centre. One of his hands grabbed your hip firmly, ready to break the fingers of any other wandering hands. He wrapped his other arm around Robin's shoulders, holding her to him as they sang along to a song you didn't know the words to.

It wasn't your proximity to him or the bruising grip of his fingers that warmed your blood, but the singer on stage. You'd seen pictures of Eddie in the trashy magazine you picked up from the gas station occasionally; each one seemed to be a different headline, each as scandalous as the last. Corroded Coffin's singer caught with another woman? Eddie Munson, Satanic Priest! Some of them were ridiculous, and none of them had been particularly entertaining, especially when, in every interview, he seemed humble, perhaps even flustered by the fame.

The sight of him on stage sent heat dripping down your cheeks and into your neck, spiralling through your veins to gather at your core.

He looked like a devil but had the face of an angel—wild curls bounced around his face, you caught glimpses of his inked skin, and there was a perfect trail of hair on his abdomen. He strummed at his guitar strings as though it were his lover, plucking the cords with perfectly practised movements. You wondered what else his fingers could do, and a wild blush crept into your face.

As though your thoughts weren't mortifying enough, he seemed to have noticed. His eyes found yours in the crowd, as if he could see straight into your brain and was plucking the fantasies from your mind.

The world slowed to a crawl and faded until it was just the two of you and your racing thoughts. You drank in the sight of him. You caught glimpses of his tattoos, watched how droplets of sweat rolled down the hollow of his throat as the heat of the stage lights bore down on him, and watched how his lips moved as he sang, the rasps of his voice enough to make you tremble.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth, almost afraid to look away; you wanted this moment to go on forever and ever. But as abruptly as it began, the fantasy ended when he looked out across the crowd, and as he did, the world snapped back into place. Your heart was racing, and your breath was erratic.

You felt silly having been caught up in such an intense moment with a perfect stranger, even if he was handsome and famous—a perfect mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment. You glanced at Robin and Steve, hoping they hadn't noticed your captivated state. They hadn't.

The two were still singing and enjoying the music, bouncing up and down as a guitar solo swept through the speakers. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you looked back at the stage, trying valiantly to refocus on the music. After a while, the guitar's pounding bass and electrifying energy were enough to pull you back into the moment.

You felt captivated, as though whatever dark spell he was weaving had fallen upon you, too. His performance was filled with raw emotion and a rebellious spirit, with the lyrics resonating with something deep inside you, echoing your desires, and enticing a wildness to spark in your veins.

You stole another glance at him, and his eyes again met yours. It was almost as if the universe had conspired to connect you two in a chaotic sea of people. With a sudden burst of courage you didn't think yourself capable of, you gave a bashful smile and lifted your hand, waving at him.

He saw and acknowledged you with a knowing smile, to your surprise and amusement. It felt like a dirty secret. You would swear that your face was on fire from how hard you were blushing, your fingers wringing together nervously at the front of your dress.

It seems silly. In fact, you knew it was silly, childish, and stupid.

You didn't know him, and he didn't know you. You knew the media's version of him—the stylised rockstar who'd grown up poor, defied the odds, and came out on top—the playboy who had a different girl every other week and who'd been caught having sex with fans in odd places. But what you'd felt, however brief, had ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. You felt it smouldering as you were lost in the music and its wild energy.

The last guitar riff played, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. You expected the crowd to thin down now that the show was finished, but they remained, hooting and hollering, vying for his attention.

"He was incredible!" You shouted as you turned to Steve, straining to be heard above the crowd. He gave you a funny expression and tilted his head to the side, causing a stir of hair to fall into his face.

"What?" 

"I said," you shouted while moving closer to him. "That was incredible!"

This time, he heard you, chuckling under his breath and holding you in place when you tried to slip through the crowd. And then you saw Eddie standing at the edge of the stage, a security guard at his side. You could see they were talking, now if only you'd learned to read lips. Except you didn't need to read lips to know he was pointing right at the three of you.

Your heart stopped mid-beat, your mouth running dry, as a second security guard approached the three of you. From where you were frozen in time, you didn't see Steve and Robin grinning at each other or the glint in their eyes.

You were star-struck, staring at the security guard as if he'd grown a second head. And he might as well have because things like this didn't happen. Maybe it happened in the movies, but not real life and you weren't some perfectly poised beauty. You were a real woman with feelings; they were all over the place right now.

You grabbed Steve's arm when he stepped away, pulling him to a stop. He looked down at you with a furrowed brow. "What the hell is going on?" you hissed at him, not angry but entirely surprised and uncertain. He gave you a dashing and daring smile.

"Think he just invited us backstage."

"What?"

You'd tried to convince yourself that this was a wild dream. You even pinched yourself—twice. Things like this didn't happen to ordinary people, especially people like you. The shy woman who had to have a drink in her hand, the woman who took sips to fill the silence when talking became overwhelming, the woman who stammered and blushed with little more than a wink from a handsome man.

But it was happening. And now there you were, backstage, with Steve and Robin at your side, staring at a door with the band's name written in block letters. You could hear people milling about inside.

The security guard knocked, and you heard the muffled sound of movement, followed by something being knocked over and a chorus of laughter. Finally, the door was hauled open.

"Eddie!"

Robin's outburst startled you. She pushed past you and Steve, then the security guard, and threw herself at the man. You gawked at them, eyes wide as your soul burst to life, heart skipping several beats when he spun her in a circle. Robin's feet didn't touch the ground as they laughed. 

You couldn't believe it.

There, standing not even five feet away, was the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie-fucking-Munson—the very same man you'd been eye-fucking on stage not even an hour ago. A part of you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you whole. Another part screamed at you to cling to him as Robin had done.

"Hey," Steve whispered, leaning slightly closer to your ear. "Are you doing okay? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"What?" You replied, your voice rising an octave in panic. Your gaze whirled between Steve and the duo, who seemed oblivious to your presence, and then back again. "Yes, well, no! You didn't tell me you knew him!"

"Who? Eddie?" He asked.

"That guy, right there, the famous guy hugging our friend?" You were incredulous, your arm flailing in their direction, much to Robin's amusement and Eddie's confusion. "Yes, him! You two know him?"

"What about Eddie?"

The sudden appearance of his voice made you squeak in surprise. His voice was dark, deep, and delectable, like chocolate, and hoarse. It felt like liquid heat pouring down your spine, flooding every intersecting bone until you trembled. Eddie smiled, and his cheeks dimpled in a way that had you blushing wildly.

You stared as Steve and Eddie swept each other into a bear hug, slapping each other on the back and again on the arm as they came apart. Robin gave you a playful poke in the side, bringing your attention back to her.

"What about Eddie?" She asked, which inevitably brought all of their attention to you. You shifted beneath the weight of their combined stare. Your eyes found Eddie's, and you looked away quickly.

"Yeah, what about Eddie, girl?" He playfully added.

"Nothing! It's just that—um—well, I didn't know you—uh—that they knew you. That's all." You say, stumbling over the words like an awkward teenager. You mentally kicked yourself, but in truth, you'd never been good at talking to people. You'd always been a little shy, and everyone made fun of you before Steve and Robin slowly started coaxing you out of your shell.

And it wasn't as though he knew you. He probably hadn't seen you in the crowd. Now that you think about it, Eddie was just as likely to be smiling at them, not you, when he was on stage. But that didn't do anything to pull the blush out of your face or stop the way you shuffled under the gaze of the trio.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie said with an awkward laugh, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Your eyes went a little buggy when his shirt rode up, revealing that trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his jeans.

You looked away quickly before he could catch you staring, finding something on the wall that suddenly fascinated you. He didn't notice, or at least didn't say anything if he did. "Yeah, yeah, the three of us went to high school together. It seems like a lifetime ago."

Robin stared at him, her expression incredulous. "It was, like, five years ago, Eds. Don't you dare make me older than I am!" She said as the back of her hand connected with his stomach. Eddie huffed as he doubled over dramatically, clutching his stomach and coughing as though she'd just punched the air from his lungs. You laughed despite yourself, momentarily drawing his attention to you; he flashed you a dazzling smile before hustling the three of you inside. 

It would have been spacious inside the room if it wasn't filled with boxes of merchandise, band equipment, and the rest of the band. The little composure you'd managed to hold onto disappeared when Steve and Robin rushed inside, similarly greeting the others, hugging and laughing like old friends. 

You lingered at the door, unsure what to do with yourself, when you felt a hand against the small of your back, fingertips tapping just above the curve of your ass, high enough to be respectful but low enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"Come on, sweetheart. They don't bite," Eddie said with a laugh before leaning down to whisper in your ear. You felt his breath against your neck, the warmth of it making you shiver as he caught a glimpse of your cleavage before you hugged your cardigan around yourself. 

"Well, I might," he added. "If you ask nicely."

He didn't wait to see your reaction, but from the beaming smile plastered on his face, he'd heard your squeak of surprise. Instead, Eddie flounced into the room, joining Steve, Robin, and the others as you followed.

Once official introductions were made, you sat at the end of one of the couches next to Eddie, who seemed entirely unaware of your nervous inner turmoil. Occasionally, his thigh brushed against yours, jostling you in his excitable state as the group recalled their high school years.

"You were quite the ladies' man in high school, Steve. Don't act bashful now," the drummer, Gareth, said with a booming laugh. You found yourself smiling and laughing with him, amused by the way Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and tried to deflect. 

"I remember Robin telling me that the girls used to call him King Steve." You added. Gareth howled with laughter at how Steve flushed a deeper shade of pink. You smiled at him, pretty and sweet, but should have known he wouldn't let that slight go unanswered. You hardly had time to steel yourself before he returned fire.

"Hey now," he said, his smile positively devilish. "Don't start throwing shade if you can't handle the sun, sweets. Because I could tell some stories about you, too. Well, no, I couldn't. I don't think I've ever heard those bed springs squeak."

You choked on a mouthful of beer, coughing as you glared at him in horror. "Steven Joseph Harrington!" Your face burned at the revelation of a secret you'd shared with him one drunk and wild night. Using his full government name was enough for him to know he'd crossed a line, but the laughter of his friends encouraged him.

"I can't help it if that's the truth, you know," he said with a shrug.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Eddie shouted, shaking his hand wildly to get everyone's attention, especially yours. You squirmed in your seat, pushing yourself hard against the arm of the couch to try and escape his intense stare when he rounded on you. 

"Never? As in never, ever?"

At that moment, you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you. It wasn't that you were embarrassed to be a virgin, but the attention made you uncomfortable. You'd never been the type of woman to want a one-night stand with a stranger. Steve had offered once when you'd both been drunk and confessing secrets, but you'd never felt the itch.

And it wasn't that you considered your virginity to be a cherished and sacred part of yourself. But you'd never wanted to be that vulnerable with someone unless you trusted them entirely. 

"Bullshit." Eddie spat, not nasty, but disbelieving. "You've gotta be shitting me. A pretty thing like you hasn't ever had sex? I know you're lying."

You stared at your hands resting in your lap, fingers wringing the hem of your dress until the stitching threatened to fray. From across the room, you heard the vague sound of Robin talking, mumbling something about you being as ripe as a cherry. She purposely popped her lips, and you wanted to die.

"Jesus Christ," you managed to choke out. "Yes, okay, I'm a total virgin. Can we talk about something else, please?"

The universe appeared to take mercy on you because the conversation changed topics at breakneck speed. One moment, Eddie was gawking at you; the next, he was focused entirely upon Jeff, who'd bought up something called the Hellfire Club. You took the opportunity to down the rest of your beer, letting the flavour of it wash away the taste of embarrassed tears.

The night went on in relative peace. You drank with them, listening to their wild stories of high school shenanigans and offering your own when prompted. You hadn't realised how much time had passed until you glanced at your watch and gawked: two in the morning.

"So, never?" Eddie asked without warning, his voice soft and almost innocent, breaking the silence that had blossomed within the room. You pulled your cardigan around your shoulders as though the thin material could shield you from his gaze. The others had fallen asleep, either drunk or high or just beyond exhausted. It was just the two of you.

Just you and Eddie.

"Look," you said with a sigh, your face burning again. "I really don't want to talk about that."

He held his hands in the universal sign of hold up. "I'm not judging you, sweetheart. I'm just curious. A pretty thing like you has to have a trail of broken hearts behind her."

You laughed despite yourself and relaxed back onto the couch, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. He was so close that you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, the way he traced his lips with the tip of his tongue, the way the fabric of his jeans stretched across his lap, the bulge there. . .

You snapped your head away when he caught your staring.

"It's not like that. I've had boyfriends. I've just never felt comfortable doing anything with them. Not that they were bad people. I didn't want to do it because everyone was doing it. Then I got busy, and dating stopped happening. You understand? Of course you do. You're famous; I doubt you have much time for dating. Not that anyone wouldn't want to date you."

You were rambling, the words falling from your lips like verbal vomit, and you couldn't stop. Eddie silenced you, moving without warning to close the distance lingering between the two of you. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, his fingers rough and warm, pulling you into the wall of his chest so that he could slot his mouth against yours.

Eddie Munson tasted like cigarette smoke and alcohol, dark desire wrapped in leather. Eddie Munson smelled like adrenaline and sex, a woman's wet dream. Before you knew what you were doing, you kissed him back, desperate for more.

Eddie led you into an adjacent room, his fingers enveloping yours, providing a comforting anchor. The soft snores of the others faded into a distant hum as he closed the door. Your gaze traced the contours of his back, the curve of his shoulders, the way his studded jacket draped over them, the weight of his chunky black boots and the ruggedness of his ripped jeans. The belt cinched around his narrow waist, crowned with a buckle shaped like a bat, adding a touch of mystery to his rugged charm.

He turned abruptly, his hand slamming against the door beside your head, eliciting a startled yelp from you. Eddie pressed against you, your hands instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. Caught between the desire to pull him closer and the instinct to push him away, you found yourself staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Your heart pounded against its ivory prison, the uncertainty of the moment adding to its frantic beat.

"E—Eddie?" You managed to stammer his name, your voice impossibly quiet, overflowing with uncertainty and a mix of fear and desire. He didn't seem to mind. He smiled at you, his breath washing over your mouth and nose like a sweet rum, leaving you light-headed. You squeezed your thighs together as tight as you could, desperate to stifle the growing heat at your core.

He felt it, your nervous shifting and the wild beating of your heart as he cruised a hand along your body, from your hip and then over your breast to clutch the back of your neck. He rubbed his thumb over your racing pulse. "Has anyone ever kissed you like this before? Pushed you against a wall, touched you, told you how beautiful you are?"

Your face burned. Eddie knew that you'd been kissed before; you'd told him as much. But you'd also told him you were a virgin. At twenty-four, you'd almost grown out of being embarrassed by the fact. 

"No," you answered in a low exhale, trying to duck your head to avoid his smouldering stare. His eyes were blown with lust, almost black as coal, as he pushed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

He leaned in closer, the feel of him like a weighted blanket on your chest, making it harder to breathe but in a pleasant way. It made your head fuzzy, like floating in a beautiful daydream, except his lips ghosted over yours. The faintest of touches had reality snapping into place around you.

"Never, ever?" Eddie whispered, his lips brushing, tugging, teasing yours. He was so close that he'd invaded all your senses until all you saw, heard, and breathed was him. He held fast when he wanted to move. Eddie waited for someone to give in to desire and bring the other into the flames. He wanted and needed it to be you.

The tiny whimper you made shot through him, racing through his blood like a bolt of electricity until his cock throbbed. And then you took the plunge, a hand at the back of his neck, the other hauling him in by that pretty studded jacket so you could brush your mouth against his.

It was all he needed—a silent confession, unspoken permission.

Eddie pushed against you until you felt the studs of his leather jacket and his dangling chains pressing into you through your clothing, your dress suddenly restrictive and in the way. His hands were everywhere, cupping your face, running through your hair. And then he dropped to his knees with a thud, pressing kisses down your stomach, leaving wet marks against the fabric of your dress as he ran his hands up the backs of your legs.

"No one ever touched you like this?"

You felt like you were going up in flames. His touch was fire licking your skin, beautiful and pure, leaving you trembling. His hands moved up the back of your thighs, and when his mouth found your belly button, tongue swirling once, then twice, you grabbed him by the shoulders to steady yourself.

"Words, sweet girl. I need you to answer," he said in a husky tone, pinching the back of your thigh to bring you out of your mind and into the moment. He looked at you from beneath his impossibly dark lashes, his eyes dark, twinkling with mischief.

"Never," you managed to gasp when his hands began drifting high, pushing your dress up until he could bunch it at your hips. And then he was face-to-face with your panties, groaning dramatically, making a sound that would make a pornstar blush. 

"Have mercy," Eddie moaned, his breath hot against your mound even through the barrier of clothing. His eyes moved back to yours, and you flushed with embarrassment. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. "Even your fucking panties are adorable. That little bow? I'm going to take my time unwrapping this present."

Yet, despite this admission, he didn't take his time.

His mouth landed on your clothed cunt without a preamble. Your knees shook and threatened to give out as he worked his tongue against the wet fabric, tasting your arousal and letting it slide down his throat like a fine wine. Eddie found that virgins were quick to get wet. His calloused fingers kneaded the globes of your arse, pulling you closer, his talented tongue pushing your panties into your slit so he could tease your clit with gentle licks.

You bit your knuckles to stifle the sounds of your moans as pleasure snaked through your veins, creeping through your bloodstream until you broke into a sweat.

"Put your hands in my hair," he demanded with a rough voice, and like a mindless fool, you complied. His hair was a mess of wild curls that you pulled on, sinking your fingers deep into his plush locks when he started to work your panties down your thighs. "Good girl."

"Oh god." As the fabric pooled at your ankles, your head hit the door with a soft thud. You were like putty in his hands—willing to walk through the fires of hell if it meant he'd keep touching you. Eddie freed one of your ankles and threw your leg over his shoulder, bringing you closer.

Words could not describe the feeling of his tongue against your slick folds or the sensation of the tip flicking against your clit. It was like lightning arched through the sky to melt the skin from your bones. You were burning up. And he'd lit the match.

Eddie was loud and messy, lewd. The sounds that clawed up his throat were pornographic. Each wet schlick of his mouth was accompanied by a throaty moan as he sucked your clit and teased your throbbing hole with the tip of his tongue.

It was an out-of-body experience—you never realised you could feel this good. Eddie held you by the back of the thighs, his grip firm, pulling you onto his tongue until your flesh goosepipmpled beneath his touch. You could have collapsed when he withdrew, a line of saliva connecting the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Words, pretty girl. You gotta use them, or I'm going to stop."

You whined desperately, weaving your fingers deeper into his wild hair. "Please don't stop, Eddie. . ."

"Then talk to me. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

He waited only a moment, his dark eyes staring into yours with the intensity of the sun. He took in your flushed cheeks and shallow breaths that made your chest heave. Then he resumed his meal. The sound you made in response was embarrassing—at least, it should have been. You should have wanted the ground to split open and swallow you. But you didn't.

"It's good," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut as he ran the flat of his tongue along your slit, the tip flicking your clit in a delicious way that made your hips twitch; forward, then back, like you wanted him to eat you alive but also to escape. 

The feeling was exquisite—like nothing you had ever felt—knocking the air from your lungs, making the muscles in your legs tense and your core weep. Your whole body jerked under his tongue, a shiver shaking your spine, your bones turning to jelly as he licked and sucked your drenched cunt. "Oh god. . . I think. . . I—I'm close."

You'd had orgasms before, but nothing quite like this. It was a slow build, each swipe of Eddie's tongue amplifying the pressure between your hips, sending jolts of electricity through your veins until your nerves crackled and popped. It was difficult to describe; you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but they melted away with each moan he drew from your lips.

And then it spread out through your body, a searing warmth that threatened once more to melt the skin from your bones.

"You're so wet, sweetness, m'fucking drowning here," Eddie said. Even though his words were vulgar, the low growl with which he spoke sent you tumbling down the other side of pleasure. The first wave zinged through you, knocking the air from your lungs and sparking every one of your nerves to life.

You bit your knuckles hard until you tasted blood, but the flavour was quickly lost as the second wave seared through your limbs. Eddie didn't stop—not once. Each swipe of his tongue against your clit, each push of it into your virginal hole, sent wisps of fire shooting through your veins, adding stars and galaxies bursting to life behind your scrunched-shut eyes.

When you returned to earth, you found yourself trembling, his strong hands the pillars that kept you upright. Eddie kissed his way back up your body, slowly working your dress up as he went until he could pull it over your head. He threw it over his shoulder, the fabric a distant memory as it hit the ground, lost and now forgotten.

"No one ever made you cum before, have they?" He whispered, his breath hot, his smirk feral, as he teased his lips along the slope of your neck. You whined when your bare cunt rubbed against his dark denim jeans, the rough drag of the rips and tears against your lips sending you hurtling toward the sky once more.

"No," you managed to say before catching his mouth for a wild, clumsy kiss. Eddie happily obliged, pushing his tongue into your mouth and licking your teeth so you tasted yourself.

"Touch me. . ."

"What do good girls say?"

"Please."

You would die if he didn't touch you in the next three seconds. You would collapse to the ground, melt into a puddle at his feet, and literally die.

Thankfully, he took pity on you. 

Eddie kissed you deeply, with the fire of a thousand suns; his hot breath stole through your lungs when he swallowed your moans, leaving you on the verge of combustion. You felt lost in him, touching him here, there, and everywhere as you tried to strip him. Eddie didn't let you. He grabbed your wrists and held them at the small of your back, and he moved you both across the room.

Your lips never once parted. The moment was composed of hot breaths, searing kisses, and teasing bites, weakening your knees terribly. Eddie fell back into a high chair in front of the make-up mirrors. You were desperate to climb into his lap, to wind your legs around him and leech the warmth from his chest, but instead, he turned you and pulled you into his lap, back to chest.

"Eddie," you whispered his name in a sigh, heady with desire. "I want more. . ."

He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, smiling in response. His lips were wet, his mouth wanting as he lowered it to your next, sucking a mark into your plush skin. "Open your eyes, sweetness."

Eddie hooked your knees over his thighs, spreading you open and exposing you to the mirror. The tips of his fingers ghosted along the crease of your inner thigh, making your breath hitch in anticipation. "You're beautiful," he said with a hum, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You caught his eyes in the reflection and saw the stark desire that had turned his pupils black, the hunger.

And you saw the expression mirrored in your own reflection. Your skin was flushed the subtlest shade of pink, pussy glistening with arousal. Eddie honestly thought you were the prettiest thing he'd ever fucking seen; so sweet, so innocent.

The stretch of his thick fingers was immediately exquisite, the slick of your arousal coating them entirely. Eddie watched the mirror, transfixed by the way it dropped from around his fingers, sliding down the curve of your ass to darken his denim jeans.

He felt you clench around him, tension seeping through your body as the pain collided with pleasure, twisting through your veins like snakes, intertwined, threatening to consume you from the inside out. You cried out when he crooked them, hips rising in search of more; his other hand cruised up your body, the soft swell of your stomach, cupping a tit in the palm of his hand, thumb teasing your nipple into a hardened peak.

Eddie growled against your neck. He was as hard as a rock, and each jolt of your hips had your arse rutting against his aching cock. You reached back to grab his hair, winding your fingers through his wild curls as the pleasure mounted. You were a guitar, and he had years of practice. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way you couldn't sit still as he fucked his fingers in and out of your cunt, the way you clawed at his jeans.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the way you moan, loud, wantonly, like a whore. You felt dirty—like this was a scandalous secret. The thought of being found was erotically terrifying.

"You getting close, sweetness?" Eddie asked; no, he growled the words against your neck, teeth clipping the sensitive skin. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my fingers so fucking tight. Are you thinking about my cock? How much better it'll feel than my fingers?"

As though to emphasise his words, his thrust against you, his erection hard against the globes of your arse, leaving him moaning as his own muscles twisted with desire, pure liquid heat pouring through his bones.

"Cum for me, baby."

He wasn't asking; no, he was demanding.

tag list ::

@micheledawn1975 | @maxstecc

—interest in being tagged in future chapters? send me a message!

[morbiderotica]

Hii! Can i pls request a Light x reader nsfw? You know the scenes where L planted a camera in his room right? Well maybe to make L less suspicious of him Light fucks the reader in his room? I thought that it was a hot idea♡ you dont have to do it if you dont want to😊

★ DECEPTION ─ fem!reader

#NOTES ─ i love you for requesting this i cannot tell you how many times i've day dreamed about this (sorry it took so long)

#WARNINGS ─ smut, cnc peeping toms (L), p in v,

#SUMMARY ─ "there was an elaborate plan set in place. but as soon as light's hands snaked around your waist you seemed to forget everything you were supposed to do and say." innocent until proven guilty

there was an elaborate plan set in place. but as soon as light's hands snaked around your waist you seemed to forget everything you were supposed to do and say. his moderately chapped lips kissing your cheek lovingly. much unlike how light usually behaved around you.

"light." his name left your lips, trying to warn him he'd made your mind go blank. but he knew.

"i know." he whispered back, displeasure laced in his voice. luckily, light was more than capable of carrying out the plan for the both of you.

"just let me do all the work." he muttered, his voice not loud enough to be picked up on by the mics on the camera but still he was careful with what he said.

he hoped you would be too. you nodded. looking up at light with a lustful look in your eye that he couldn't deny was making him a little aroused. light kissed your jaw, roughly. as if light was capable of doing anything without roughness.

"last chance to back out." it's not a soft tone, but it does let you know that he won't be mad at you if you do decide you don't want some random creep watching you have sex with your friend.

you shake your head, you weren't going to let him down now. and to be totally honest, the thought of someone watching you in such a vulnerable position was intriguing to say the least. light began to undress you once you'd given him your final consent.

meanwhile, L watched his screen with wider eyes than normal. his eyes grazing every pixel of the screen as he watched light take off your shirt. neglecting the other screens that were broadcasting equally, if not more, important information. L racked his brain trying to figure out if this was just a trick of if he was really witnessing this dirty scene play out.

all your clothes were off in what seemed like a blink of an eye. pressed into the mattress with light's knee inches away from your heated core. you dumbly pull at his tie, fucked out expression but light hadn't even gotten started with you yet.

"you got any thoughts in there at all?" he smirks. silently gloating now that he knew he had every single person he knew wrapped around his godly finger. there was not a thought behind your blown out pupils. it prided light to know he had such an effect on you.

"i haven't even done anything yet." he furthers. and L was hearing all of it.

you paw at the waist band of his bland khaki pants. light chuckled feeling your shaky hands trying to get more of him. his rubs his hand over your chest, caressing your nipple with his pointer and thumb.

"patient girls get rewarded." he tsks. he's met with a whine to which he chuckles again. he knows L will over analyze and find something wrong with the scenario if he doesn't hurry up.

"you wanna get rewarded?" he unbuttons his pants with one hand. you're eager, desperate. you need hm in a way you didn't even know it was possible to want one of your friend.

he reaches over you, grabbing a condom from the book shelf. it was wedged between two books. clearly he was trying to keep it hidden from his maid of a mom and his nosy sister.

he opens the condom with his teeth and you might as well just have hearts in your eyes as you watch him. the wrapper falls somewhere unimportant on the bed. he rolls the condom on. you knew it was only a matter of time before you finally felt full with his cock.

© 2023 MORBIDEROTICA

[infamous-if]

prologue done!

finally! <3 today will be spent play testing and by tomorrow or Friday it should hopefully be up for band tier. then I can go back to regular Patreon posts/holiday special + working on the rest. CH1 and CH2 should go by much faster because ive been working on them when I needed breaks from the prologue. CH3 has been outlined. The beta testers haven't all been chosen yet, so that will be announced when they do.

I've taken a lot of suggestions from everyone since the first demo came out, many of which you'll only see after the prologue. but in the prologue I've

expanded and added scenes

expanded choices (more personality choices for variation)(one example: you can now have an MC who is more reliant on drinking from the start aka more choices where MC expresses needing a drink lolol/more of a partier MC and on the other hand, there are more professional, reserved choices)(among others)

fixed prose, added more details, added more conversations

just added a lot more context

and more :)

the biggest would be the scene changes/additions. but yeah. I think this prologue is a lot stronger than it was. I hope it continues that way for the rest until CH3!

Obviously this is still alpha until the beta testers get their hands on it + give feedbacks and suggestions + the rest of the chapters may push me to add more context and additions but I really like it.

That's all! More info on the prologue's changes will be out when I post it on Patreon. Have a good day!!

[ms-demeanor]

Also I have to say "but bands are using AI art for their album covers" is not a winning argument.

That band wasn't going to pay you. That band was going to beg somebody's artist brother for a freebie or they were going to have the people in the band who can kind of draw draw something or they were going to use a moody photo someone took with their cellphone. Best possible scenario is "they were going to trade for something from someone in the scene," and this is still the most likely scenario for bands that *give a shit* about that kind of thing.

And I've been the one doing freebie artwork for my musician friends; I've made album covers and done promo shoots, I've drawn logos and I've got a standing offer to make buttons for the cost of materials for every band I've ever played a show with. The people who give a shit in the scene are already doing this because everybody knows that everybody's broke.

I'm certain that there's not *zero* overlap between "bands that can afford to pay artists and photographers to create album artwork" and "bands that are using AI art for their album covers" but if you think "indie musician" is a demographic that has money to spare on commissioned artwork, I'm pretty sure you're mistaken.

Like. Okay, I mean my *big* argument is that AI image generation is fair use, full stop.

But the secondary argument that I've got is that I'm not sure there's a market to have the bottom fall out of.

The person making shitty covers for their amazon romance novel was not going to pay you. They were going to pay someone on fiverr eight dollars *at best* and that's only if they couldn't find a way to DIY.

That band that's trying desperately to sell ten tickets so they can play a show at the cool venue was not going to pay you to do their cover art. Their last fifty bucks just went to covering those tickets because their friends aren't even coming to their free shows. They were going to stage a photoshoot with a cellphone and a timer and someone's sister's selfie stick.

That person who made an AI avatar was not going to pay you for a custom avatar they were going to take a screenshot of your work and use that.

The people who are able to afford to pay artists and who are interested in paying artists are not the people who are replacing artists with AI. The t-shirt dropshippers, the shitty book cover designers, the bland corporate artists, and the art reposting instagram pages were the ones who undercut your market.

If you're concerned that someone is going to use AI to make art that is materially similar to yours and sell it, you're just concerned that someone is going to make art that is materially similar to yours to sell. The concerns about AI doing it are functionally exactly the same as what happens when someone says "wow, I want that on a t-shirt" under your drawing. If someone were to draw a character similar to but distinct from yours with words similar to but distinct from yours and put a link to that on a reblog of your post, that person is not actually infringing on you. They're a shithead, but that's not actually art theft. If they used your character and your words, or if they directly copy the image, that's art theft and you can try to get their post taken down. It's the exact same thing with AI.

The people who care about art and can afford to pay for it are always going to pay for it. Your problem isn't with AI, your problem is with the fact that people don't value art and that's as true now as it was a decade ago.

You are trying to sell a complicated, crocheted sundress made with 100% hand-dyed alpaca wool on Etsy and are complaining that the loose knit acrylic sundress from walmart is undercutting your market. Some people are always going to make the effort to save up and pay for your work because they value the craftsmanship, but those people didn't want to shop at WalMart in the first place. And the ones who value your craftsmanship but just plain can't afford it were going to dig through the bins at a thrift store until they found a crocheted swim cover from the seventies that they could pass off as a dress with a few alterations.

[snyderside]

I am not exactly sure if this classifies as an Au or headcanons since Trolls Band Together was kinda short and for the life of me I kinda hate when movies are rushed and we get the cut scenes afterward only as a storyboard(I also tend to like the concept art more than the official art)

But enough of me ranting and more into me getting into what I think/want to happen to Brozone when the band split up

(I choose to call it their solo career)

John Dory(19):

Seeing John Dory's entrance attitude and smugness truly made me think yeah this guy is definitely full of himself and in major denial about some things and what really confirmed my suspicion was when he said "I was the oldest I had no choice but to lead!"

So for his solo career, I thought maybe he did some odd job like bounty hunting, or perhaps he played hero with a small town with a small population of trolls or some other anthropomorphic species. Of course, anyone he would save or any group of bounty hunters he'd join didn't like him because he enjoyed taking control of the situation so much or bossing everyone around. He never liked being alone but he kept driving people away, so eventually he knew solitude was his best option, therefore living in Ronda alone in a forest. He did feel regret for driving his brothers away but only because he knew he was more familiar with bossing them around than some random strangers he'd just met. He kept the mindset of "Why should I feel bad when they're the ungrateful ones!" and "All I've ever done was look out for them, and I stepped up when Mom and Dad died!" after those thoughts he couldn't help but think "What are you doing John Dory?"

Spruce/Bruce(17):

I thought it would be funny if almost everyone at his little restaurant on Vacay Island or should I say Brandy's restaurant...well her dads knew who "Bruce' really was except Brandy. I like to think Bruce went to vacay island because either his therapist or himself thought he should relax more so he went on a "vacation". He chilled out, gained a little bit of weight making him lose his six-pack, and most importantly tried to win the heart of Brandy because she seemed to be the only one not falling for his charm. Brandy played a tsundere type of approach when it came to all his advances on her, but then it all came to a game of volleyball as Bruce's way of showing his dedication to her, of course some of the other players used his small stature against him and he was getting his butt handed to him. He was only able to score a single point (IDEK how volleyball works) and the way he leapt into the air had Brandy star struck, the that that was holding his hair back snapped and he used nothing but shear will power to spike the ball. I mean sure Bruce lost but did he really? He got the girl in the end so it's all that counts right?

Clay(16):

(So I don't really have much for clay because I used most of my ADHD superpowers on the other guys and there's not too much I can go on from the movie)

Now Clay just looked around for jobs, it was retail, then tried working at some corporate building but it all didn't exactly work out because none of his co-workers took him seriously. Feeling out of options Clay walked aimlessly eventually finding Viva and the Putt-putt trolls, at the time imagined them looking more post-apocalyptic and slightly barbaric and frankly chaotic, Viva needed drastic help because she was just a little kid like Clay. Clay offered to help her mainly because he has a tiny bit of OCD (Saying this because of how grumpy he looked when John Dory went off and did his own thing and him practicing and worrying before Brozone performance.) and Viva thought/thinks so highly of him and thought of him as serious which is all Clay ever wanted so he just felt at home...and may or may not have developed feelings for her in the long run. Still, hey I've already got into a Romance segment.

I'm going to leave this here and not do Floyd because I'll talk about his little solo career journey in an OC ramble. (I have no shame.)

Thanks for reading have a lovely day!

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart, Chapter 2 (Human!Alastor x reader)

Banner Alastors done by @blobin456drawz <3

Human Alastor x married reader Rated Adult for adult themes, triggering content and sexual content. I wouldn't say this is dead dove but it's dead dove adjacent. Chapter Trigger Warnings: Aftermath of domestic violence, talk of human trafficking, drinking.

A note from Kit: First, before anything I want to credit my friends @blobin456drawz, @nyx-umbrakinesis, @wendigonamecaller and the rest of you for the behind the scenes work you've done.

Onto more important matters- Please be mindful. This story is dark and triggering at times. I've written portions to elicit an emotional reaction. As you should always do with dark content, even if you're not at risk of being triggered, please step back and take a breather when needed.

Want to listen rather than read: Nyx productions brings you this Audio chapter. Part 1, part 2, part 3

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord. And my friend runs a Hazbin Fic Community

The music was rich in the air, energy from the band wrapping the space in the electric energy that poured from the instruments. Ice clanked in the glass as Alastor spun it in his hand, absently watching the room as he tapped his foot along with the music. Sharp eyes moved from one face to another, watching bodies move and mouths form words, lives wasted. 

There were a few faces that stuck out to him, a few faces he had been monitoring, watching. He wasn’t actively hunting, not at Mimzy’s speakeasy. That would be far too dangerous. However, if his targets were themselves here, it would be sloppy not to take notice of them. 

“Hey, Al,” Mimzy slipped into the tall stool across from him, obscuring his view and demanding all his attention regardless of if he was ready to grant her it. That was how she was, always demanding someone’s full attention regardless of if they wanted to give her it at the moment. 

“New supplier working out well?” Alastor asked, clinking the ice around his glass after taking a small drink. Tonight wasn’t a night for overindulgence. 

“Well enough,” Mimzy made a show of humming, causing Alastor to raise an eyebrow. She had something she wanted to discuss and from her show, he would not like it. 

“What’s the issue?” 

“I’m so glad you asked!” Mimzy shifted, falling into what Alastor considered her damsel in distress position. She had always been easy to read, at least on the surface level. Alastor knew well that more went on below the surface than Mimzy let on, however. It was that hidden depth that made her tolerable in his eyes. 

“You see, Laurence was running next week’s supply last night. It was going great but you know how it goes- he got stopped, got off with a slap on the wrist thanks to his pretty face, but they took his goods and left him with a hefty fine.” 

“That so?” Alastor hummed as he sipped his drink, leaning back in his chair and crossing his leg over his knee. “Do you need help with supply again?” 

“No, no- Nothing like that,” Mimzy watched as Alastor’s shoulders relaxed, counting on that for what she had actually intended to ask. “The thing is, he can’t float the fine and his debts.” 

“How terrible for him.” Alastor knew what she was getting at but wanted her to say it, anyway. 

“He needs a loan from someone who isn’t a shark. Someone who’s a real stand-up guy who won’t run him around.” Mimzy leaned forward, closing some of the distance between them. “I know you got some green stashed away, and he’s as much of a stand up fella as you are. If he goes bust, I’m out a supplier again too.” 

“How much?” Alastor sighed as Mimzy took his glass out of his hand, motioning for a refill for him. 

“Well, you see- it’s not a lot a lot.” She said a lot of words while she stalled, waiting for his topped off drink. It was her opinion that you only asked for a favor from a man when he had a drink in his hand, no matter how well you knew the man. When Alastor again had his glass safely in hand, she got to the point, “A few hundred. Float him the loan, he’ll pay it back with interest. I promise he’s good for it.” 

“Oh, well- if you promise he’s good for it than I have no choice,” Alastor’s smile twitched, “but to say no.”

“Oh, come on, Al!” Mimzy pleaded, leaning on her palms as she leaned up out of the stool and onto the table, “If he can’t settle this debt, he ain’t going to be able to keep supplying me. Either you float him the loan or you’re stuck helping keep me supplied. That’s all there really is to it. You don’t want that and I don’t want to hear you flapping your yap about how much you don’t want to do it either.” 

“Mimzy,” 

“He’ll be good for the money. Just-” Mimzy waved across the room as Alastor’s eyes followed her attention to a tall man with blonde hair and a decidedly square face, calling him over. “Just talk to him? See what he can offer for collateral? Work out a deal?”

“And if I don’t want to?” 

Mimzy just looked over her shoulder at him and smiled before directing her whole energy to the man approaching, “Laurence!” 

“Mimzy! How are you, Beautiful?” The man’s voice was deep and rich, the type of voice women flocked to though Alastor found his imitation of the mid-atlantic accent to be rather sloppy. 

“Oh you,” Mimzy smacked his chest as his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “Such a flirt. Everyone’s such a flirt. You fellas see little ol me and can’t help yourselves.” 

“That’s exactly it,” the man said, basking in the attention the short woman was lavishing on him. 

“Laurence, dear-” Mimzy patted the man’s chest again before directing her attention to Alastor, “This is Alastor, one of my dearest friends. Al, this is the one and only Laurence.” 

Laurence held his hand out for Alastor to shake. Alastor took it after unfolding off the barstool, standing to his full height and looking down on the blonde man. There wasn’t a huge height difference, but it was noticeable enough that Alastor wanted to ensure the other man felt smaller. 

“A pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure,” Alastor said, firmly shaking Laurence’s hand, long fingers easily wrapping around the other man’s smaller hand. His smile twitched a little wider. Alastor watched the blonde man grimace as he felt the metacarpal bones in the captured hand shift under the pressure of Alastor’s grip. 

“Likewise,” Laurence rubbed his newly freed hand before thinking twice and hiding his discomfort, not before Alastor noticed. 

“Al here,” Mimzy’s hand rested on Alastor’s shoulder before wrapping her arms around his arm, pulling it against her plump chest. “And I was just talking about your situation and he is willing to float you.” 

“A loan.” Alastor added, “The details will need working out of course.” 

“Of course,” Laurence’s smile spread, threatening to challenge Alastor’s before fading. “Of course.”

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Mimzy patted Laurence’s shoulder as she walked by, looking over her shoulder and throwing Alastor a wink on her way. 

“Mimzy said you needed the loan because you got busted?” Alastor offered, opening the conversation. “Why should I loan you funds if you’re sloppy enough to get caught?”

“That’s an oversimplification,” Laurence tried to laugh off the critique. 

“Typically, in this line of business, one would hold enough funds in reserve to cover losses such as this.” Alastor leaned back in his chair, taking a long drink from his glass as he watched Laurence, taking in the uncomfortable shift of his position and the twitch of his jaw. “How can I be assured you’ll repay this debt? Mimzy seems to believe it will not be an insignificant sum you’re here to grovel for.” 

“I’m not groveling!” Laurence slammed his fist down, rattling the table as Alastor made a show of standing up. “Wait.”

Alastor’s smile twitched higher as he lingered half out of his seat, looking back at the red-faced man as he raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. Mimzy wasn’t the only one who could put on a show. 

“I’m not here to grovel.” Laurence said again, calmer this time. “I need the funds. I’m in a bit of a spot, but I’m good for it.”

“And what can you offer for collateral?” 

“I can offer a man’s most prized possession.” Laurence’s smile turned slimy. 

“And what would that be?” Alastor settled fully in his seat once again, picking up his glass as he refused to let his smile fall wholly from his lips. When Laurence answered, Alastor nearly choked on the drink in his mouth. 

“My wife.” 

“That hardly will compensate me for any lost funds. I’m not sure what sort of man you are under the impression that I am, but I do not deal with the buying and selling of women.” Alastor’s voice was hard, cutting with his displeasure. 

“That’s not-” 

“It’ll take a few hours for me to get the funds together. If you’ll have me over for dinner tomorrow, we can finalize the details. You have until then to think of something more appropriate for collateral.” 

You sat at your vanity, looking into the face of a woman that looked like you but didn’t feel like you in the slightest. Your nightgown hung from your too thin frame. Stress and pressure to be perfect both from Laurence and from society pressed in around you as tears ran down your cheeks and dripped off your chin. 

“Laurence is a good man,” you whispered to yourself, shattering the silence in the room with the bold-faced lie told in the face of the irrefutable evidence that he was indeed not a good man. “Laurence is a good man.” 

Your arms were stiff, sore as you forced the muscles to function. Dark bruises wrapped around your biceps, evidence of his harsh hands grabbing you, shaking you. Green and yellow covered your ribs, no longer actively paining you but a visual reminder of what happened when he thought you talked back. Your shoulder ached, but that was so often the case that it felt like a constant pain.

Those marks would all be covered by your dress, at least. There were small blessings. The bruise around your wrist would be harder to cover, but first you had to cover the redness in your face. 

Your eyes were puffy, skin irritated and uneven, both from a night spent crying and from the back of his hand striking you. The blows hadn’t been too bad, sending you to the floor the night before, but it could have been worse. What was your infraction last night, anyway? You couldn’t remember. 

Your face didn’t hurt much, not as much as the rest of you. More often than not, he kept his hands off your face. Facial bruising drew too much attention. Too many marks where others could see it would shatter the impression of perfection he worked so hard to maintain. 

Cooling cream felt good against your skin as you willed the tears to stop. Now wasn’t the time for tears. What good did tears do you, anyway? Tears didn’t change your life and what was there to cry about? 

It was a good life, when you didn’t upset him at least.

He was your husband. He supported you, cared for you, and provided for you. All you had to do was shut up and do what he said. Trust him and stop asking questions. Just stop thinking. 

But that wasn’t who you were. You were a woman who liked to think, to learn and to use your mind. 

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter in the slightest who you were or what sort of woman you were. It didn’t matter what sort of woman you wanted to be.

He was your husband. He would be your husband forever. Even if he wasn’t, you couldn’t marry better than him. He had come from a good family, bringing you financial security above what you could have hoped for. Your parents were proud of the match they had arranged, beaming that your beauty and countenance secured you such a step up in the world for yourself and, in time, your children.

With one last look in the mirror, you decided your work was good enough. Your blush was too bright, not keeping in with the trends and your eyeshadow not smoky enough. Laurence wouldn’t give you the money to update to the latest trends, saying that you didn’t need it. Instead, you did the best you could with what you had.

Your dress, laid out on the bed and waiting for you, was likewise just a touch out of fashion. It was longer than that of your peers, but that was alright. Laurence said it flattered your figure better than the newer styles. You wouldn’t be able to pull off those newer styles, your frame was simply not thin enough. 

You were not enough or too much in some way or another according to him, for the latest looks. 

This was better for you. 

Laurence knew best. 

As you stood, the world spun around you. The floor felt like it was tilting under your feet. Fingers dug into the solid surface of the vanity as you counted down from five, eyes clenched shut with a deep breath between each number.

Once the world felt steady, you made yourself drink some water. Hydration wouldn’t fix everything, but it was a solid place to start. Some water, some crackers and smoked meat that you kept in your bedside table, and you’d be right as rain again.

You just needed to get dressed first. 

Joints ached as you took slow, careful steps toward the bed and slipped the dress over head. Carefully, you used your good arm to pull your sore arm through the sleeve, trying to avoid moving the screaming shoulder joint any more than needed. Once you had accomplished that feat, you switched your focus on dressing the rest of yourself, pulling the zipper up while holding your sore arm close to your body. 

You’d take something for the pain too, you decided as you rolled the stockings up your legs, one at a time. That would make you right as rain. 

The more you moved, the easier it was to move. You told yourself you were just stiff, that was all, as you slipped bangle bracelets over your wrist. If you put enough on, maybe they would obscure the dark marks on your skin. More and more you added until it was enough. 

Looking at yourself one last time, you pulled your painted lips into a smile. You were happy; you told yourself. Your marriage was wonderful. Laurence was a wonderful husband. You were lucky. 

You were lucky.

Laurence swept through the front door like a gust of wind, a wide smile on his face. Flinching when he kicks the door closed behind him, you step away from the wall you had been using as support and stood up as straight as you could. 

Laurence quickly crossed the living room and swept you up in his arms. You cringed back in pain as he spun you around without a care in the world. 

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you, sweetheart?” Laurence stepped back, hands soft on your shoulders as he looked at you with a surprising amount of concern. 

“My shoulder- it’s just a bit tender is all,” you answered carefully, forcing yourself to relax in his hands. 

He was in a good mood. He was happy. This was good. You were safe, at least for now. It’ll be a good night. Well, as good of a night as you could hope for.

“I’m sorry, you know. I am.” Laurence’s hands ran down your arms, thumbs caressing the soft fabric of your dress. “I- it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t talked back to me. A man wants a meek wife, you know that. You can be that for me, right?”

He rested his palm against the same cheek he had backhanded the night before, and you told yourself that he was right as you forced yourself to lean into his touch. Laurence was a good man, and you were lucky to have him. Why didn’t it feel like that was true? Why did it feel like you could have had better?

“Let's go out for dinner, yeah?” Laurence offered, “You won’t have to worry about making dinner or cleaning up the kitchen. How’s that sound?” 

For all the good that came with Laurence’s good mood, there was a negative side of it, too. His hand was heavy on your thigh, thumb caressing you in the theater’s shroud of darkness. 

This was another song and dance you knew well and would rather not take part in. You were not sure what was worse, if you were being honest with yourself, romance with Laurence or violence with him. 

Still, you fought back the grimace as he pulled you in for a kiss in front of the cinema after the show had ended. This was as much your duty as it was to do the washing. 

“Let’s get home, Sweetthing.” Laurence wrapped his arm around your waist, not caring about how that jammed your painful shoulder right into his side as he held you to him. 

“You’re in such a good mood,” you cringed as he jostled you into his side more, swallowing the pain.

“Well, yeah- I’ve got a business deal falling into place and we’re celebrating.” 

That was news to you, though Laurence rarely spoke of business with you. You knew sometimes when things went well and you knew sometimes when things went bad, but never the details. Women were not to know the details of business in his eyes. Their hormone filled brains simply couldn’t handle the complexities of the professional world.

Things had gone badly a few days ago, terrible, but he hadn’t told you that. You didn’t need a conversation around business to tell you that when the information was written in his mood and his fists. It was better now; it seemed and business would birth a different sort of pain for you tonight. 

“Tomorrow we’re going to be having a dinner guest,” Laurence’s grip on you kept the pressure on your shoulder and there was no part of you that thought for a moment that he wasn’t aware of the pain he was causing. He just didn’t care. Appearances were more important to him than something as trivial as your comfort. 

“That’s such short notice,” you protested, thinking better of it only when the words were already out of your mouth. 

“Don’t ruin this night for me, Doll.” His voice was deep with warning, “You’re going to make a lovely dinner and my associate is going to come over. I’ll seal the deal and you’ll show him how perfect of a wife you are, however I decide is needed.” 

You didn’t know what he was getting at, but it sounded like a threat. It wasn’t something you wanted to discover, however. 

“Hey, Al-” Mimzy tugged on the sleeve of his coat, drawing his attention from the stream of people exiting the theater. He would lose sight of his mark, but that was just as well. He wouldn’t strike tonight. Tonight was simply for observation. “That’s the pretty face of the tailor, ain’t it?” 

“It seems so,” Alastor feigned surprise as his eyes followed her gloved finger. 

He had noticed them the moment they filed into the theater. Timid little thing, meek with her shoulders slumped and his arm around her. What a magnificent turn of events to find the timid little thing appeared to be Laurence’s wife. 

Did she know her husband was willing to offer her up like cattle as collateral on a loan if he needed it bad enough? Or did she think her marriage was sacred under the cover of her husband’s rough hands?

“Is that Laurence she’s with?” Mimzy broke through his thoughts.

“Told you she had a man,” Alastor looked away, directing his attention to his companion, ignoring the way the woman’s shoulders slumped more under her husband’s touch or the way she flinched every time he grabbed her. 

“Should we go say hi?”

“Let them have their night out on the town. There will be plenty of other chances to talk business.” Alastor looked back at his friend, her eyes lingering on the couple a few moments longer. “Shall we?”

Tag List: @xalygatorx, @charlottemorningstarsdarling, @honestlyshamelesskid, @lilith-jae, @catticora, @alastor-simp, @alastorthirsty, @rainydaysmut, @nyx91, @goyablogsstuff, @kaylopolis, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @diffidentphantom, @yui-onnero, @lunarmango, @uhhhimbored, @loveameripanshipperlove

Next? Masterlist

[chimonystack]

Alright so I watched Inside Out 2 a couple days ago, and I'm sure other people already have talked about everything possible, but I still feel like I need to rant about my thoughts so I'm gonna do that here.

SPOILERS BELOW, PLEASE SKIP THIS POST IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE MOVIE AND DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED

The first thing I wanna talk about is how insanely accurate all the emotions were portrayed. The first movie already showed the emotions in a simple but also incredibly accurate way, so much so that I could understand it as a kid who hadn't even turned ten when the first movie came out. But this movie took that portrayal and turned it up to eleven. I feel like if I were still nine years old and I watched this movie, it would perfectly help me understand the concepts of anxiety, envy, embarrassment and even ennui in a way that I don't think any other movie could.

Being even more specific, the panic attack was an incredibly realistic portrayal too. I've been lucky enough not to have experienced a full-on panic attack myself, but I've heard from people close to me that also watched the movie that it's even their favorite part of the movie for how good it really is. Plus, the way Riley grounds herself, and the way the movie brings attention to it is really amazing to see. First she slows her breathing as the emotions all hug her new sense of self, and then the immediate next thing that she does is focus on the feel of the bench on her hand, the sounds of the hockey game around her, and what she can see, and it works. Admittedly, this part I probably wouldn't have understood as a kid, but I definitely understand it now, and it's beautiful.

This is also a great movie to get across the concept of peer pressure, and how subtle it can be. Val's two friends in the hallway are a great example. The way they talk to Riley about Coach's red notebook puts the idea into her head that the notebook is the most important thing determining whether or not she'll become a Firehawk. This idea gets to her so much that she sneaks into Coach's office at night to find her name in the notebook, something that she likely never would have done had Val's two friends not talked about the notebook that way. Similarly, in the scene where Riley and the Firehawks are hanging out together and talking about bands, one of those same friends asks Riley who her favorite band is, and when she says Get Up and Glow, this friend of Val's pressures Riley into lying and being sarcastic about loving her favorite band, all because she wants to fit in with the Firehawks. Val's friends may not even realize they're pressuring her, but it's still enough to get Riley to try and change everything about herself just to become friends with the Firehawks.

Aside from all of those concepts, though, there were also so many small details and easter eggs that I wanna rant about. I loved how almost all of the memories at the start of the movie were mixed between the core 5 emotions, showing that they worked together so well as a team. I freaked out when I saw Joy's origami Bing Bong on her shelf by her bed. I loved the details about Bloofy breaking the fourth wall not being understandable to anybody else, and how Lance Slashblade moves like a videogame character getting caught on the collision of a map. I loved that the officer's hat in the vault scene had "My Hat" written on it to call back to the two Subconscious guards from the first movie.

I guess my main point is that I believe this movie is just as good as the first Inside Out, and perfectly captures the message it wants to give to people. I had so many concerns that it would be a disappointing sequel, and I was so pleasantly surprised once I actually watched it. You don't have to agree with me, of course; that's only natural for some people not to agree on things. But I do hope that if you took the time to read everything in this monster of a post, that you enjoyed my ramblings, and that maybe it even resonated with you.

[frokenkeke]

Making of Ashes to Ashley

Recently I posted my comic Ashes to Ashley, and got such a tremendously kind and loving response that I felt like sharing a little bit more about where it came from.

The story is about a transgender awakening, where the quiet and somber Ash explodes out of the closet as the loud and colorful Ashley. This was always the plan, however the details changed along the way. Quite quickly I realized that I was writing about myself and my own trans journey. I never played in a band and I don't imagine I'll ever grow bunny ears (sadly), but still Ashley is undoubtedly a reflection of myself. I just allowed life to become a stage and gender performance a rock concert.

Above are the first idea doodles I drew late at night in early April. I quite enjoyed giving Ashley lipstick and prominent eye shadow, since I hadn't ever done a character like that before. The idea was a bit of exaggerated femininity that accidentally becomes raw punk expression. One or two people have pointed out the Um Jammer Lammy similarities, and they are absolutely not coincidental. Initially I imagined Ashley would've been more reluctant about her transformation, which is why she looks a bit more annoyed in some of my sketches, but the story became more bright and funny if it was made immediately clear that this all happens off of her own volition.

Some method and color tests. My girlfriend suggested I instead go a lot more raw with it, which is why I ended up adamantly using an ugly sponge brush built into Photoshop. Sapphic Disaster are some form of punk-shoegaze band, so combining rough pencil linework with crunchy texture coloring felt like a fitting visual representation of them. This also side-stepped the biggest problems I've always had with drawing comics – dealing with inking is a boring waste of time, and working digitally always makes me fixate on perfection. By just using pencil on paper I had to stick with whatever errors couldn't be saved by a regular eraser, in fact I dedicated myself to only using an old worn down Bic mechanical pencil and embraced the idea that the comic would consistently look a bit off and amateurish. Of course I allowed myself the luxury of cleaning up my drawings digitally before coloring, but that can only take you so far. This way of working helped me make fast progress and kept each step engaging, I've never had as much fun drawing a comic as I had with Ashes to Ashley.

Here's a before and after from initial scan to finished panel. I often only tidy up around focal points like faces or hands, and allow the rest to remain as it is, usually parts like the legs or Ashley's ears.

Character references and my initial color picks, they went through small changes as I went along. I liked giving all the band members different sorts of rabbit ears to make them all look distinct from each other.

Here's some ideas for the Sapphic Disaster band logo and the comic's color palette, notice how Ashley is more vibrant than Ash.

While working I filled up numerous papers with doodles trying to workshop panels and layouts. It's too much to show all of them here, so I composed a few collages of my favorites.

It was pivotal for me that Ash would always look painfully cute. The sketch of the table scene with Floyd shows a rare out-of-character confident and laid-back Ash. In the presence of Floyd?! Never!

I was very concerned about the reader recognizing the old Ash when first seeing Ashley. She may be all excited about being a girl, but her nervous cluelessness remains. I ended up going back and redrawing two panels in Ashley's introduction to strengthen this impression.

For those not in the know, shoegaze is a rock subgenre that centers around noisey guitar textures, typically achieved through heavy use of effect pedals at the musicians feet; hence the name. When Ashley plays her guitar she produces a cacophony of strange sounds, the reader will have to imagine what they actually sound like, but I always imagined their opening number "I Wanna Be a Girl" to sound like a couple of amateurs trying to recreate Lush's Blackout.

The page where the band go around looking for Ashley while she's receiving her makeover was shoehorned in at a later stage for pacing purposes. That's why Gabriel is suddenly back to pulling cords after previously claiming they're all set, oops!

One of the core rules to this story is that everyone is always overly supportive of Ashley's transition no matter what. This is what makes the otherwise stern and serious Floyd especially funny, my girlfriend was pivotal in sprucing up his dialogue, adding bits like "have you seen the health care waiting lists?, "I know an endocrinologist who owes me a favor or two" and "give me 35% more danger"

Towards the end I discovered that Ashley and Debbie dancing was apparently the most important panel in the entire comic, judging by how much I tried to perfect it. (For the record, my favorite panel is when Ashley screams into the microphone that she wants to be a girl.) Maybe Ashley and Debbie dancing should've replaced the final full-page panel? Well, we got a lot of cute doodles out of it regardless. Just kiss already!

Initially I imagined Ashley to be standing alone in the "could this be the real me" final panel, but I realized her odd family of friends was equally a part of the real her. She was always right where she needed to be, she just needed to find herself within that place. (I ended up giving Ashley a cigarette because otherwise it looked like she was praying.)

Here are some ideas for the cover illustration, of course in 1:1 format to look like an album cover. Up until last minute I planned for the comic to have You Made Me Realize as its subtitle to distinguish it from eventual follow-ups, which is why the You Made Me Realize EP cover art is paraphrased in the top-middle. I ended up just going with Ashes to Ashley to keep it clean and simple. The title Ashes to Ashley was blurted out immediately by my girlfriend when I first showed her my concepts for the story. It's perfect, she's perfect.

I drew two Ashes and two Ashleys for the cover art and let my fingers smudge all over the latter. While most obviously riffing on the cover for My Bloody Valentine's Loveless, it's equally taking from the Ecstasy of Saint Theresa's Pigment.

And there you have it.

However I never intended this to be the full extent of Ashley's story, just a satisfying and complete end of a chapter. I've already finished writing the next story, Today Forever, and I hope I can get it out to you all soon enough. Your love for Ashley keeps me going.

/Kiki

[mikeyswayy]

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(UPDATED INTRO POST)

(𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨...)

DNI'S are literally only like MSI fans.. oh and if your homophobic, transphobic, racist. anything like that.. oh and if your possibly one of my family members

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I don't have a name, call me cunt or something I don't care

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MCR is my favorite band, I like fob too and I forgot but I love any of Frankie's bands too! And Gees solo music!!!!!

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My favorite movies are (these aren't in order btw) Donnie Darko, star Wars, life on the murder scene. (I like the Chucky movies too, I was raised on them but they're not my favorite)

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Favorite TV shows, the walking dead (all the spin-offs too) , umbrella academy, Chucky (I'm a big nerd for child's play and Chucky btw) / (I can't think of others right now but I think I have some more maybe..)

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Favorite comics, the walking dead, the true lives of the fabulous Killjoys, the true lives of the fabulous Killjoys: national anthem, umbrella academy (I have more but like I forget a lot so..)

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Favorite games, the walking dead telltale games (I have others that I'm not gonna name here bc I wanna say it somewhere else.. But you'll probably know soon enough)

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Favorite colors are red and black

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My favorite YouTubers are jake webber and Johnnie guilbert but I have a few more and they do pranks but like I don't think anyone that's here probably likes them so.. Well carry on.

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Favorite album is I brought you my bullets, you brought me your love

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Favorite songs are, my way home is through you, not that kind of girl, Emily, black dragon fighting society, all the angels and tomorrow's money

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𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗠 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗦 :

I've always wanted to play bass

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I wanna make comics, draw and maybe write some.. :D

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I'm a minor, don't be a Creepazoid.. but i dont care if your over 18 :P

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Literally obsessed with Mikey way..

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I like sour candies, war heads I like a lot. Sour candy also isn't sour to me..

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I like vampires (𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘦) and that stuff, bats too I guess

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Blood is cool too

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I draw sometimes (𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴���'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘐'𝘮 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴.. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦?)

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I edit sometimes..

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I'm awake all night listening to MCR, and all day almost too..

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Petekey.. ♡

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Frerard ♥︎

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My favorite soda is root beer

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I'm running out of things to say now.. Let's carry on..

⚰︎

This is the end.. So.. Bye? I don't know.. Want the lyrics to the foundations of decay? There, it's down there ↓

See the man who stands upon the hill

He dreams of all the battles won

But fate had left its scars upon his face

With all the damage they had done

And so tired with age, he turns the page

Let the flesh submit itself to gravity

Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame

Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain

Now, if your convictions were a passing phase

May your ashes feed the river in the morning rays

And as the vermin crawls, we lay in the foundations of decay

He was there the day the towers fell

And so he wandered down the road

And we would all build towers of our own

Only to watch the roots corrode

But it's much too late, you're in the race

So we'll press and press 'til you can't take it anymore

Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame

Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain

And if, by his own hand, his spirit flies

Take his body as a relic to be canonized

Now, and so he gets to die a saint

But she will always be a whore

Against faith (cage all the animals)

Against all odds ('cause the message must be pure)

Against change (you can wander through the ruins)

We are free (but the poison is the cure)

You must fix your heart

And you must build an altar where it swells

When the storm, it gains and the sky, it rains

Let it flood, let it flood, let it wash away

And as you stumble through your last crusade

Will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays?

And as the swarm it calls, we lay in the foundations

Yes, it comforts me much more

Yes, it comforts me much more

To lay in the foundations of decay

Get up, coward

Now, so long and goodnight...

(I'll probably be adding more once I remember more shit, but for now Run, run, bunny, run)

(𝘈𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧...)

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[laylajeffany]

Heya ! ^^ Another amazing chapter =w=b

I was wondering about something. There is a lot of hospital scenes and stuff in Chaos and Karma with all the themes of disability and mental & physical health related issues, and like the rest of your writing, it's all written in depth, which I love, but with hospital stuff, it seems even more so.

I was wondering if you pull from your own experience with some of that stuff ? If it's too personal, don't feel obliged to go into details, please.

Cheers,

Thank you! It took me a minute to get chapter two started, but once I did, I was able to fly through it. I might have accidentally started something new today that I'm accidentally almost 10k into, though so...um, not sure when chapter three will be out! 🤭 Shh, don't tell my beta. She's going to kill me.

Answer behind the cut about my experiences - long winded, OF COURSE!!

I have two degrees in special education that I refuse to put on my current teaching license for a myriad of reasons. The tl;dr is because I believe in including students with special needs in my general education classroom. I firmly believe that young students are generally not given a chance to "assume competency" as the awful phrase has been coined, and districts have gotten away with this through bypassing the Least Restrictive Environment mandate by citing the importance of Early Intervention due to a lack of government-funded seats in early childhood education, not because it is best practice. Therefore, they are often funneled by "Child Find" teams who assess children for disabilities that could impact their education, directly into self-contained classrooms without ever having had the opportunity to be in a general education classroom. Unfortunately, public education is hanging on with paperclips and rubber bands that have continued to be stretched to capacity more and more over the last decade I've been working in the system. We lack the resources and staff competency for inclusion to be properly done in most settings. I have made it work for the last few years very successfully, but it unfortunately doesn’t continue for these kids beyond my classroom. Lately, I wonder if I’m causing more harm than good by giving them one very good year of unprecedented growth by being a "highly effective," intuitive educator, surrounding them with their peers, and providing them with full-time access to general education curriculum. I then have to hand them off to be tortured by K-12 teachers who refuse to even attempt to accommodate these children (which is illegal), and continue to get away with it until they have enough “data” to prove that the children “don’t belong” in their classrooms. (The lawyers have felt very differently about this, trust.) My assistant principal said in a meeting a few weeks ago, “The only real solution is for Ms. XX to be less effective at her job.” I am already doing the least. (I refuse to follow dress codes, show up late, leave early and don’t do anything that isn’t student-facing like nonsensical paperwork that is not legally required, show up for professional development, meetings, after school activities, or anything outside of my contract hours that doesn't have an extra check attached to it, etc.) My next step is to quit - and I am 100% leaving this district after next year; I’m not sure if I’ll be going to a new one or trying something new after. The other work I'm doing surrounding this is too political & identity revealing to discuss here, but just know - I'm not just bitching about it, I am actively trying to make inclusion work.

Other than that, inspiration for my hospital scene settings comes from growing up. I watched family and extended family members die in hospitals from some form of cancer to the point where death barely affects me anymore. The worst of it was in university, a friend developed stage four brain cancer that spread in weeks from one scan to a next, and we spent the second half of the semester at the hospital to be with her when we could; becoming unfortunately familiar with neurology and the ICU. I had a very interesting conversation about this with my uncle this year, who said that his parents ‘kept him from death’ until he was an adult and now processes death so poorly that twelve years after my grandma died, he JUST got rid of the house that was empty the entire time. I’m not sure if it helps/hurts to expose children to death and dying early. I find my self generally numb to death as an adult, and see the human condition as temporary with a fierce acceptance that it will inevitably end, sometimes when we expect it, and sometimes not. Also - I was a rabid House, MD fan from 2004-2009, lol (Jennifer Morrison was one of my lesbian awakenings). I have rewatched seasons 1-4 at least ten times each and recognize this is not a realistic look at the world of medicine as a whole, but I feel like it did at least make me understand hospitals and medical procedures/testing a little. I actually wanted to be an OBGYN until I was a junior in an evangelical high school and was sent to take some state testing for college admissions, and discovered my scientific knowledge was like that of a third grader due to Christian-based science instruction I had K-12, so pretty much threw that dream out the window when I realized I likely wouldn’t catch up with what would be required of me at the university level. “Who are we to question god’s earthly miracles?” Was a valid response from our educators when asking a question about science. 

[sinkat-arts]

Happy pride! I've had this scene in my head for a little while now, so I'm setting it free. A little Trans Daichi Daisuga for everyone;;; And also a little drabble... for context, you know.

CW: Needles, injection

Daichi watched as Koushi got prepped for their little Saturday morning routine. It was quick work by now - he’d been doing this for… how long now? He’d started helping Daichi with this task within that first month they lived together, so that was something like 5 years at this point. 

Time flies when you’re having fun, Daichi thought, grinning.  

“Oh, he’s smiling before coffee AND while I have a needle in my hand,” Koushi said, wearing a grin of his own as he teased. He shook the vial and held it upside down before drawing out .5mL of a hormone Daichi’s body couldn’t produce on its own. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Just… thinking about time. And you. And this,” he said, gesturing to Koushi’s little prep station. Every weekend, the same thing - three alcohol pads, opened before anything started for quick access, two different gauges of needles, a syringe, the vial, and a band-aid (also pre-opened just in case). He always arranged it just so on a makeshift metal tray that had been a lid to something in a past life, but had now, for almost 4 years, been Koushi’s makeshift nurse’s station. “Feels like only yesterday you started doing this for me… and now you’ve got it down to a science.” 

Koushi’s eyes softened, likely casting his mind back into the past right along with Daichi. There was a lot of it, and while they’d had hard times… there was an overabundance of goodness. Smiles and laughs that never seemed to stop, even though by all rights, they should be sick of one another after more than a decade together. 

“Had to,” he finally said, “You were so pitiful when you did it yourself… blame my overall pleasant and extremely giving nature. I’m basically a saint.” 

“Sugawara Koushi, patron saint of needle shy and pathetic souls…”

Koushi scrunched his nose in distaste as he dropped to his knees beside where Daichi sat on the closed toilet in their bathroom. “Yeah, let’s keep workshopping that one.” 

“Anything for you, St. Suga,” Daichi laughed as Koushi cleaned a spot on his outer thigh with one of the alcohol pads.

“That’s right,” he replied, now holding the prepped syringe in one hand, “Ready?”

“Be gentle,” Daichi said, leaning as far away from Koushi as he could, face scrunched in a grimace… though he peeked at Koushi out of one eye and one corner of his mouth was curled up in a playful grin. 

“Really?” 

“Hey, don’t blame me… I’m pitiful, remember? A delicate flower.” 

“You’re a big baby… good thing you’re cute.” 

“It’s my secret weapon… worked on you.” 

Koushi rolled his eyes in what Daichi understood was mock exasperation before they both broke out in chuckles. 

“It sure did,” he answered as he moved quickly to complete the injection. Only a moment’s work, but it was important. This little routine had once been Daichi’s alone - and Koushi wasn’t wrong, he’d hated doing it himself, had worked himself up and almost passed out a few times - but now it was theirs, together. Now, he could smile and laugh through it. And that meant the world to him. 

The deed done, Koushi covered the site with a fresh alcohol pad as he rubbed circles in the muscle. Neither of them really knew if that helped settle or spread the liquid, but it seemed the thing to do, so it was done. 

“And there we have it,” Koushi said, applying a band-aid as the finishing touch. As he did every Saturday, he kissed the tips of two fingers and pressed them over the bandage. “All set.” 

“Hey,” Daichi said, looking down into the eyes of the one thing he was sure at this point he couldn’t live without, “Thank you.” 

“Of course…” 

“No, I mean it,” he said, tone turning serious. Sincere. “You may not be an official saint, but to me… it feels a lot like I’ve been blessed.” 

Koushi’s eyes went wide for a moment before his face softened. He reached up and pressed a fist into Daichi’s chest, just a gentle, playful little punch. It was the language he fell back on when actual words failed him.  

“Dummy. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Wanna make pancakes?” 

“Hell yeah I do!” 

And just like that, the Saturday morning ritual was complete. Breakfast was made and life went on. 

And life was good.  

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

Okay! I've got it to a point where I like it! :D

I remember this really fun post about a Darling being “carted off to Gerudo with a few other potential wives” for Ganondorf to choose from. And, already, you know that my mind had begun to turn just from that alone.

Anyway, the post was gn, but I've already thought up a new, budding oc & Imma explain the rest with her in mind.

Imagine that she's a pretty little Lurelin lady with beautiful tanned skin & dark, wavy hair.

I named her Leilani. :3

Imagine she's the best hunter & warrior in her village.

Imagine that she hunts sharks barehanded.

Imagine that he sees her as she's dueling one of his guards & she's absolutely dominating.

Imagine that her style is wild & free, yet beautiful & fluid like a dance.

Imagine that none of his guards can touch her as she dances around her challengers with ease like a petal in the wind.

And all Ganondorf can hear is her laughter of exhilaration & see her cheeks flushed with both joy & effort at a good fight.

And the king is utterly enchanted.

Imagine she uses a pair of lei'o'manō knuckle dusters made with the teeth of lynels & sharks that she killed herself.

Or a Macuahuitl!

That'd be cool!

Or both!!

And! A double-limbed bow!!

It's a high-performance bow with a lot of power behind it.

Anyway, the idea was that she was drawn by lot/the village voted for her. And despite how incredible of an opportunity & honor it was to even be selected, Darling, evidently, was much more excited to explore the wider world & learn more about this new place that she was taken to. And, not really believing that she’d be selected, she elected to simply do her duty & enjoy herself while she was there.

Problem, it almost seemed that from the moment Ganondorf saw her, he was on her heels. Buying her whatever she seemed to show interest in, escorting her around his homelands to take in whatever he believed would interest her.....

She assumes that the king was simply being a kind ruler & generous host (poor, sweet summer child), as he’s admittedly putting on a very convincing act.

Except that, slowly, over time, all the other women began to leave or be escorted home. None being replaced.

It isn’t until Darling is the only one left, adorned in lovely silks & glimmering jewels that even the queen of Hyrule would be jealous of, that she realizes that… perhaps she’d made a better impression than she thought??

Regardless, she finds herself inspecting the ridiculously high-quality fabric of an absolutely gorgeous kalasiris that started blue at the top, but near the bottom, fades to orange, a very small band of pink between as a transition point with sheer fabric draping over her hips & shoulders. A long light pink ghunghat that turns orange near the bottom & trails down to the floor with a dupattā to match.

She'd already chosen a half-moon mathapatti shaped with that little star-shape from the original Gerudo symbol that had been on the mirror shield, but then fans got all butt-hurt over it.

This is an example of a mathapatti:

But, more like below, with the teardrop-cut purple pyrope garnets hanging from it.

And, she had never seen such cute mutherhubbin’ shoes!

They are frickin’ adorable!

But, anyway! That was when it occurred to her as she stood there with the silver-tongued nahesa (snake or serpent) waiting just outside for her.

She turned to the seamstress & whispered, "I'm shopping for my wedding dress, aren't I?”

Who proceeded to giggle into her hand as the woman double face-palmed with a smack, blushing. "He got me goooood~..." She rasped in embarrassment, words muffled by her hands.

Which resulted in the seamstress (Gerudo or Hylian depending on the Dorf) busting a gut in a rather undignified manner.

How would the Dorfs react provided he was listening in? Could I get a scene for it? If not, that's okay.

I know that character creator! I used to use it all the time for my OCs. Love seeing it again <3

The art really helps visualize the experience. Very nicely done.

I remember that ask! Such a fun time.

As always, Demise barged his way in. The Bouncer didn't work this time. Such a stubborn brute >_<

************************************************************************

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf:

Thoughts: OoT Ganondorf would be thoroughly amused, perhaps even smirking at the situation. He appreciates strength and cunning, and Leilani has proven herself in both areas. The fact that she remained unaware of his intentions only adds to his amusement; it’s a testament to his ability to manipulate situations to his advantage. However, he also feels a rare warmth in knowing that he’s managed to captivate someone as capable as Leilani.

Scene: From the shadows outside the seamstress's shop, Ganondorf watches Leilani’s realization with a smirk playing on his lips. Her exasperated face-palm and the seamstress’s laughter reach his ears, and he can't help but chuckle lowly to himself. The king of the Gerudo strides in after a moment, his presence commanding."Indeed, you are," he says smoothly, his voice tinged with amusement. "You’ve done more than just impress me, Leilani. You’ve captivated me. And now, you’re about to become my queen."He steps closer, his eyes gleaming with a mix of possessiveness and genuine admiration. “What do you think of the dress, my bride?”

Wind Waker Ganondorf:

Thoughts: Wind Waker Ganondorf is more reflective, seeing Leilani not just as a powerful warrior but as a symbol of a future he desires to shape—a world where the Gerudo are restored to their former glory. Her realization that she’s shopping for her wedding dress would bring him a rare moment of satisfaction, knowing that this strong-willed woman will be at his side.

Scene: As Leilani whispers her realization, Ganondorf, having listened quietly, enters the room with a calm, almost solemn expression. The weight of his ambitions and the future he envisions are in his eyes as he approaches her."Yes, Leilani," he says quietly but with a deep resonance. "You’re choosing the dress that will mark the beginning of a new chapter for the Gerudo. You’ll stand with me, not just as my queen, but as a partner in shaping our destiny."He gently touches the fabric of the dress she’s holding, his large hand covering hers for a moment. “Does it meet your expectations, my future queen?”

Twilight Princess Ganondorf:

Thoughts: Twilight Princess Ganondorf is less amused and more focused. He has always been a man of purpose, and Leilani’s strength and spirit are attributes he admires. Her realization is exactly what he intended, and it satisfies him to see her come to terms with it, as it means she’s ready to accept her new role at his side.

Scene: As the seamstress giggles, Ganondorf enters with a powerful, deliberate stride. His eyes lock onto Leilani, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips."It seems you’ve realized your place," he rumbles, his deep voice resonating in the room. "You are more than worthy, Leilani. You will stand beside me as my queen, and together, we will carve out our future.”He steps closer, his towering form casting a shadow over her. “Does the dress suit the queen of Hyrule?” he asks, his tone both commanding and expectant.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf:

Thoughts: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf is a force of nature, a man of conquest and domination. He’s pleased that Leilani has finally caught on to what he’s been planning all along. Her prowess in battle only further convinces him that she’s the perfect match for him—a queen with the strength to stand beside him as he conquers all of Hyrule.

Scene: As Leilani blushes and the seamstress laughs, Ganondorf strides into the room with a booming laugh of his own. His presence fills the space, and he looks at Leilani with pride."You catch on quickly, Leilani," he says, his voice filled with approval. "You’ve shown your strength, and now you’ll stand as my equal in power. This dress will mark you as my queen, a symbol of the strength that will bring Hyrule to its knees."He reaches out, lifting a strand of her dark hair, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Do you approve of the colors? They must be as vibrant and unyielding as the woman who wears them.”

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf:

Thoughts: Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf would view Leilani’s realization as a necessary step in her acceptance of her new life. He is drawn to her vitality and the joy she finds in combat, a reflection of his own drive and ambition. Her reaction is expected, and he feels a deep satisfaction in knowing that she will soon be his.

Scene: As the seamstress’s laughter echoes in the room, Ganondorf enters with a slow, deliberate step. His golden eyes are intense as they settle on Leilani, and a satisfied smile curves his lips."You understand now, don’t you?" he says in a low, powerful voice. "This dress is not just for you; it’s for the queen who will rule alongside me. You’ve proven yourself in every way, Leilani. Now, you’ll become part of something far greater.”He reaches out, his hand brushing the fabric she’s inspecting. “Will this be the garment in which you bind yourself to me?”

Demise:

Thoughts: Demise views Leilani as a conquest, much like everything else in his life. Her strength is what intrigues him, and her realization that she’s shopping for her wedding dress is just a step in his inevitable victory. He is pleased by her resilience and spirit, seeing her as a worthy partner in his dark dominion.

Scene: As Leilani’s embarrassed realization takes hold, Demise steps into the room with a dark, looming presence. His fiery mane flickers as he approaches, a smirk on his lips as he regards her."Yes, you are," he states in a deep, menacing tone. "You will be mine, Leilani, as inevitable as the rise of the sun. You’ve shown your strength, and now you’ll stand beside me in the world I will create."He looms over her, his eyes burning with an intense flame. “Does the dress please you, my soon-to-be queen? It should reflect the power you will wield at my side.”

Summary: Each version of Ganondorf and Demise reacts with a blend of satisfaction and approval, seeing Leilani’s realization as a confirmation of her place at their side. While some are amused, others are more focused or reflective, but all share a deep admiration for her strength and spirit. Their interactions are colored by their individual personalities, from OoT Ganondorf’s sly amusement to Demise’s dominating presence.

[angelsanarchy]

Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 04

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf @kappasbbgirl @luzclarita57 @tempt-ress

Y/n is sitting at the desk inside the garage. It was a fairly quiet day and Leff was sitting in the office with his feet on the desk, talking on the phone to someone making new import deals. Sicky came busting through the door so hard, it hit the wall.

"I've fucking had it! I'm done babysitting this kid. He's been complaining nonstop all fucking day and I'm going to kill him." Sicky threw his hands up and Mike came in behind him shaking his head.

"Did you do all the drop offs?" Y/n looked at her watch and Sicky growled.

"No because princess over here has to stop every ten minutes to piss or get cigarettes or jerk off." Sicky looked back at him.

"I had to piss twice and it's not my fault these places are smoke free. This is fucking New York. That's stupid." Mike argued.

"I can't handle it Y/n. You take over or I'm going to skin the kid." Sicky lowered his voice so only Y/n could hear him knowing that threatening Leff's blood loud enough for him to hear would always be a no no. She stood up from the desk and chuckled.

"You remember this the next time I have to do a shipment at the bar." Y/n put a gun in her ankle holster and grabbed her jacket off the hook.

"Come on loverboy." Y/n grabbed the collar of Mike's leather jacket and he gave Sicky the finger.

"Do you care if I smoke in your car?" Mike asked hopeful.

"You can smoke in my car but to answer your question earlier, you can't smoke at client's establishments unless they offer you a smoke. It's disrespectful. These are business partners and when we enter their home turf, they have the advantage. We must show respect to keep business relations on the up and up." Y/n explained as Mike lit his cigarette.

"I fucking hate this job. Honestly, I almost wish Leff would have left me to figure my own shit out. At least that way I wouldn't be stuck being his little bitch delivery boy." He blew smoke out of the cracked window.

"What would you rather be doing?" Y/n asked honestly and Mike looked over at her to see if she was being serious.

"If I tell you, you can't laugh." Mike said making Y/n smile.

"If you say male stripper or rancher, I'm going to laugh." She warned making him chuckle.

"I want to be a musician. Start a band and get the hell out of here. The music scene in New York is dead unless you're a rapper or making a techno pop set in someone's basement rave." Mike explained.

"Musician? Do you play an instrument or are you a singer?" She asked. Mike could see she was genuinely interested in his answers and he tried to hide his blush.

"I play guitar but I definitely would need a singer. I'm not much of a vocalist." Mike took another puff from his cigarette and ashed it out the window.

"Well you could absolutely find a singer in New York but you'll want to go South if you want to get any sort of band off the ground. Everyone knows Texas is where aspiring musicians go." Y/n pulled up to a stop light and looked at him.

"What's your sound? Despite the cowboy look, the leather daddy that accompanies it gives hard rock or grungey alternative." Mike had to laugh out loud.

"Did you just call me a leather daddy?" He asked furrowing his brows.

"Shut up, don't act like you don't love when I give you pet names." She teased from behind the steering wheel. He noticed something he hadn't really noticed before. She had a tattoo on her neck behind her ear. When she smiled wide, he could see a little black rose etched into the skin.

"If only you would take me up on my offer to use them with less clothing and more privacy." Mike flirted making her shake her head at him, putting her hand out to take his cigarette and take a puff. He watched her suck the smoke into her mouth, let it out of her nose and back out again.

Every thing she did turned him on in the weirdest way.

"Get some furniture first and we'll revisit naked hangouts." She teased. Mike took that as a promise and motivation to get a couch.

"How do you know so much about the music scene in Texas?" Mike asked curiously.

"I used to work at a night club. A lot of guys would come through and tell me their life stories and dreams of making it big but what they don't realize is New York is more for performing arts. Classical musicians and acting are on the rise but places like Austin are where all the big music producers pick and choose people to throw together to make an album. Plus the food is superior." Mike kept his eyes on her.

"The night club...were you a-"

"Yes Mike, I used to be a dancer so if you have any stripper jokes, keep in mind that I'm currently behind the wheel and you aren't wearing a seat belt." She glanced over at him.

"I mean we're literally pushing drugs and weapons. I don't think being a stripper is some sort of classless gig. We're clearly doing a lot worse." He shook the duffel bag.

"You aren't wrong." Y/n pulled up to the drop location and put the car in park.

"Besides, Sicky said you own a bar now so that's cool." Mike added making her grin at him.

"You're talking to Sicky about me huh?" She teases and he rolls his eyes.

"Shut up." He finished off his cigarette before getting out of the car and when Y/n handed him the duffel she held onto it.

"Hey, this shit is only as temporary as you want it to be. You want out, you have to find something that will get you out and keep you straight. All Leff needs is reassurance that you'll be able to take care of yourself. That's all he wants." She said sincerely.

"I'll keep that in mind while I'm peddling this cocaine to a biker gang." Mike said making Y/n scrunch her nose.

"Sicky's right, you're being a princess." Y/n teased making Mike take the bag from her and give her a mocking middle finger. She smiled giving him one back and watched his back as he knocked on the door. She moved her gun from her ankle holster to her lap and watched him carefully.

He didn't know it but Y/n was already willing to kill for him if she had to.

[eroslove88]

Operating in the Shadows

Pairing: Yelan x Dom. Reader

Warnings: Noncon, bondage, mentioned footjob, dom reader, wlw, slut shaming, gang bang hinted at the end & degradation

Notes: We're just gonna jump right into the sex, so... yeah, be prepared.

Blue really was her color, you chose this royal blue rope just for her. You adored the way the fat of her thighs leaked over the bindings, turning red from the burns and suffocation. Her folds were out of display just for you, "My Yelan, you're quite pretty like this" in mating press position, bound and gagged leaving any protests she had muffled. "I've been waiting for this moment, y'know?" sighing you grabbed a toy- small probably about 3in. and rubbed it along her folds "I always wondered, 'What am I doing wrong? She's taken down my colleagues- When is it my turn?' I'm so glad you finally decided to face me"

You slapped her pussy her face eye twitching in response, you spat on her cunt in an attempt to lube up the toy, "You're a whore, so I doubt you'll be able to cum because of this little dick" you smirk to yourself inserting the dildo. Her pussy clenching onto it for dear life, "Cock-starved?" your other hand plays with her clit while the one with the toy moves forward and back. You never broke eye contact with her. A bastard's smile on your face as she groans into her panties and releases on the toy.

"I was wrong" you chuckled. Grabbing the band from the box below you. Swiftly the silicone toy was attached to the band. You removed the panties from her mouth and looked down at her disgusted face, "Want a taste?" you questioned cocking your head to the side. "They'll find me." she simply stated before pressing her lips hard together. "You're right." you said pinching her nose, "Liyue officials will miss their cockwhore. They'll miss their dominatrix 'mommy's you gave them footjobs and handjobs" you mocked her mouth desperately opening for air.

The dildo was shoved into her mouth as her head vigorously shook in an attempt to a miss it. She gagged on the veiny toy, "Yum, huh? I would've been gentle had you not been so bratty." the band was adjusted at you locked the pad in the back of her head. Yelan's pretty, purple lips wrapped around the black toy was such a delightful scene. You pressed her cheeks together staring at her eyes as she furrowed her brows, "Now, this is what you wanted, right?" her breaths were heavy. What a lovely sight it was her makeup smeared all around her face- my you wished this could've been done sooner.

You dropped her and dug through your box, "Look! I got this to match your aesthetic." a royal blue, veiny, curved dildo was waved mockingly by her crotch. You attached the cock to it's harness and stared down at her face, "You know it's weird, but I love and hate you so much. I just want to ruin you and make you only need me." you grabbed on to her thighs and teased her drooling folds. Slowly you started letting in sink in barely audible mewls coming from her gag.

You picked up her underwear and brought it up to your nose, sinking in completely. "You've slobbered all over this- yet I still smell your aroma" your thrusts turned desperate as your fucked her your other hand reaching down for her throat, "Oh god! I'm so happy!" as if the gag wasn't enough, she could barely breathe now. "Y-you are unbelievable. How can you endure so much?" you asked as tears dribbled down her face, "Oh baby~ this will be everyday and every hour from now on. I've waited for so long. All this should make up for all the time you had me waiting." she released onto your cock. Letting go of her throat your started panting, all the adrenaline really had you worked up.

Removing the toy you licked it as your stared at her destroyed state. You put your clothes on and groped at her tits, "Very good job, my Orchid." you compliment. You unlock the gag, she didn't say anything. Grabbing her face you give her faded purple lips a kiss, "It's too bad I have a promise to keep. I would've loved to keep you to just myself, but this is fine. It's just for today." you reassure her walking away.

She didn't get what you meant until multiple footsteps got louder and suddenly she was surrounded by several treasure hoarders and fatui agents. Their belts coming undone as her tiered eyes widened.

You on the other hand made several copies of some really good footage you caught to hand to anyone you passed on your way to the harbor.