#wip prep tag game

[afantasyoffiction]

HELLO YOU REBLOGGED MY POST SO IM SENDING AN ASK

First of all, ANOTHER WRITER WHO LIKES EPIC YIPPEEEEE

Who’s your favorite character form your witches wip????

hiiiiiii!!!!!!

YIPEE also i freaking ADORE epic words cannot express the things that audio does to my brain chemistry

ummm favourite character is incredibly difficult. the two girls closest to my heart don't actually appear in book one? so it would have to be my fmc Sabreia bc of course im in her head and i understand her and i love her and i pity her and i support her (rights and wrongs ahaha) and i believe in her and its all abt her...

but if ur asking like. who am i most insane about? who's my precious suffering tortured boy??? who makes me go feral everytime i think about him??? that's ZANDYR bby!!!! he's so fucked up he lies to everyone including me hes an enigma hes a cliche hes the hero of the story and the irrelevant side character hes the most important person in the entire kingdom and no one in existence knows who he is... <3 if blorbos can be OCs? thats him lol

[jj-one]

r/offmychest: gooning to your friend’s/roommate’s girlfriend is a DISEASE !

this is smut, do not interact if under 18 !

pairing: skz x fem!reader genre/tags: smut, crack(?), perv!skz, they’re all losers in this tbh, chan is aged up to 31 bc that’s #hot, lots of gooning (obvi), obsessive thoughts, questionable morals, jealousy, breeding kink, just overall weirdo behavior words: 5.5k

[ note. ] — this is what i write instead of working on my wips LMAO, i’ve always wanted to do a reddit-style fic so this was sm fun to make :3 lmk what y’all think guys, i’m kinda nervous to post this aghhh </3 (i also kinda wanna make a part 2 of this where reader finds out what they’ve been doing but we’ll see lol)

u/Gnab0325 • posted 2h ago

She’s my best friend’s girl and I edge for hours to the thought of breeding her. I think I’ve broken my brain.

I shouldn’t want her. I know that. She’s not mine. She never has been. But the way she‘ll randomly tug at her lip mid-conversation? The way she stretches when she wakes up on our couch? The way she looks at him like he’s everything. God, I’d kill to be on the receiving end of that look..

And it’s not just want anymore. It’s undying need. I jerk off to her like it’s my fucking religion.

I don’t even touch myself normally now, I prepare. Lights dimmed, music low, lotion warmed. I open a private folder that’s titled “hers” which have subfolders that include:

“T-shirt & no bra”

“Sleepy morning voice”

“When she wore my hoodie once and I couldn’t breathe for 3 days”

I’ve got notes, man. I script it all out in my head like I’m directing some porno. Her on top while she’s riding me, nails dragging down my chest, stuffing her little cunt full while she’s telling me, “it’s okay, baby. You can cum inside, I want it.”

That line alone has made me edge for 4 hours straight. No breaks. No finish. Just throbbing, leaking, begging myself like I was under some spell, I didn’t even realize how much time had passed until the sun came up. My sleep schedule was already fucked before this but now I’m lucky if I even get 3 hours.

The worst part? I’m not some dumb teenager. I’m (31M), I lift, I meal prep. I give actual advice to friends about love and self-control. But then she shows up in those tight yoga pants and calls me “Chris” all soft and playful and my dick’s like, “time to worship.”

I had to excuse myself last weekend during game night because she licked whipped cream off her thumb and I felt precum soak through my boxers. I lied and told them I had a call. I was in the bathroom for 45 minutes with her Instagram page open, stroking it in silence like a fucking monk.

I’ve whispered her name into my pillow while cumming so hard my vision went white. I’ve imagined hitting it from the back while I pull her hair and slap her ass and she’s screaming, “fill me up, daddy,” like I won’t put in a baby in her.

Sometimes I imagine her going through my phone and accidentally stumbling upon my secret folder, but instead of her being disgusted by it she’s intrigued. She climbs onto my lap saying, “let me help you finish this time.” If that ever happened? I’d probably pass out mid stroke and die with a hard-on. Bury me in it.

She’s not mine. But in my head, she always calls me first.

Top Comments 💬

u/FertilizedToes: The secret stash of folders was sooo real. Every man has been guilty of having doing it but none of us wanna actually admit it. Thanks for your honesty. You are our prophet.

u/TiredLawStudent: so you imagined her watching you jork it and helping you finish? that’s not edging my guy, that’s astral projection into sin.

u/IfYouSeekAmy123: Wait this is so relatable bc I stroked myself to my friend’s wife yesterday. She was sitting around the corner at the kitchen table and I was around the corner in the hallway. It was a little risky but don’t regret it, would 100% do it again.

u/Lino.Saurus • posted 8h ago

I humped a pillow thinking about my best friend’s girlfriend and cried out of frustration after. I’m not okay.

She’s always touching him and it drives me fucking nuts. She’ll just casually grab his arm during conversation and rest her head on his shoulder, whispering shit in his ear that makes him laugh when I know for a fact I would’ve laughed harder.

I shouldn’t even like her. She wasn’t initially my type (not looks wise), it’s just she’s annoying. She talks too much. She calls everyone “sweetie” or “honey” and chews gum way too loudly, but when she walks into a room, I can’t think straight. When she calls me the nickname she gave me in that soft teasing voice, I get hard so fast it makes me dizzy.

Last week was hell for me. It was like she was purposefully provoking me just to get a rise out of me. And it worked. I vividly remember the other day where she leaned over to pick something up, I saw the outline of her panties through her leggings due to how sheer they were and I had to dip out of there before I did something irreversibly criminal.

I can’t even remember how long I was jerking off that night, but I didn’t stop until my hand physically cramped up. I thought about roughly fucking her on my friend’s bed while he was in the shower. Imagined her whispering “don’t stop, don’t tell him” while I’m balls deep inside. I came dry. No lube. Just my palm and pathetic desperation.

I’ve gooned to her laugh, her stupid lip gloss, her chewing the end of a straw, even her biting her nail. I’m so far down the rabbit hole I’m jerking off to things that aren’t even sexual anymore. Her sneezing once turned me on. I wish I was joking.

Two nights ago, I humped my pillow imagining it was her like some freak virgin. I came so hard I got lightheaded. Then I cried into the same pillow that I just violated. Not because I felt guilty, but because I know she’ll never fuck me the way I want her to.

The thing is… it’s not just sex. I’m jealous. I see the little glimmer in her eye when her gaze flickers up at him, looking at him like he holds her entire world in his hands and I want to scream because I want her to look at me like that. I want her in my bed, wearing my hoodie, lying under me as she’s calling me an asshole for making her cheat but continues to furiously make out with me.

But instead, I’ll just keep pretending to be the sarcastic best friend while I edge to her voice memo from two weeks ago like it’s my last drop of water in a desert.

Top Comments 💬

u/IJustStoleUrBitchx: holy shit this is disgusting. no amount of torture would ever get this kinda info out of me. u still got my upvote tho.

u/ChiliChiliCrabCrab: You fantasized about fucking her on your best friend’s bed while he’s in the shower??? Nah dude that’s not horny that’s top ten anime betrayals.

u/WinterSoldier24: tbh i can’t even laugh at this bc i’ve BEEN there. i’ve wept into the same pillow i defiled. i’ve heard my own moans echo off my laptop screen like a haunting. guess we’re all rotting together.

u/Jutdwaee99 • posted 10h ago

I goon to my roommate’s girlfriend for hours like it’s a full-time job and I think I’m losing my grip on reality.

I don’t even know how I got to this point.

It started normal. Just a little crush, harmless admiration. She’s sweet, always super polite. Wears those cute little pajama shorts when she spends the night, has this habit of playing with her hair while she’s talking, calls my roommate cringey petnames in this sugary, sleepy voice that makes me wanna gnaw on drywall.

But now it’s out of control. I edge to her every night. Every. Single. Night. I’m not even horny anymore— I’m possessed. There’s no porn. No nudes. Just the memory of her walking down the hallway half asleep, shirt riding up, no panties, scratching lazily at her thigh. She didn’t even know I was behind her. She didn’t know I stood there, frozen in the dark, watching the sway of her hips like some sick, twisted perv.

I stay up for hours scrolling through her page, looking at her pics. Sometimes I watch the same Boomerangs on loop like it’s some high-art cinema. I even synced one of them to my goon playlist. I set a timer and 37 minutes in, her hair flips in time with the beat drop, and that’s when I tighten my grip and almost pass out.

She kissed my roommate goodbye this morning and I speed ran to the bathroom and jerked off with the hand lotion he keeps under the sink. I’ve been edging for so long my balls hurt and feel like they’re gonna explode in protest.

The most fucked up part of it all is that I don’t even want to stop. I like the torture. I like sitting in my dark room, whispering her name while I stroke it like some goddamn lunatic.

If she ever finds out what I’ve done, what I’ve imagined, I’ll be on a list. Hell, I’ll make the list.

But right now? I’m getting hard again just thinking about her leaving her toothbrush in the sink.

She’ll never be mine yet I treat her like a shrine.

I need help. Or maybe I need her to break up with him so I can ruin her properly.

Top Comments 💬

u/GojosLeftTesticle: Nah that’s a new level of disrespect. You came and moisturized with your roommate’s lotion?? I hope he kicks you out LMAO

u/DeezNuts7: i started this post giggling. then i got scared, then aroused, then scared again. i wish i never read this. you win.

u/SuperSmashUrBro: be honest bro, are you trolling? is this satire? are you karma farming? bc if not… you are edging to boomerangs. like… vertically looped 1.5 second clips. send the flood.

u/HHJThrowaway • posted 5h ago

My best friend’s girl is my obsession and I’ve ruined my life over it.

This will be my first and last post in this sub (hence why I’m using a throwaway account) because I intend on taking this shit to the grave with me. I don’t know if this is a cry for help or some final confession before I self destruct, but it’s been eating me up inside and I need to get it out. She’s my best friend’s girlfriend, but she’s perfect.

The minute she walks in it’s like the lighting changes. I’m not even exaggerating, there was this one day where the sun hit her skin like she was some glowing goddess and I literally forgot how to breathe. Her scents intoxicating, like warm sugar and vanilla. She laughs at all my jokes, even the shitty ones. She called me pretty before and I think I saw God.

And I’ve been edging to her every night since March.

I don’t use porn anymore (not that I watched it a lot anyway). Just the flashback of one night where she licked salt off her wrist before downing a tequila shot. The way she presses her thighs together when she’s cold. The time she hugged me goodbye and the scent of her perfume still lingered on my shirt for two days and I didn’t wash it until I’d cum in it twice.

I don’t just jerk off. I goon. Long sessions. Hours sometimes. I hum her name, talk to myself like she’s watching, I’ve even came to the thought of her crying while coming undone on my cock more times than I can count.

There was one night she fell asleep on our couch in those tiny short shorts she always wears and I stared at her thighs for so long I nearly passed out from holding my breath. I got so aroused that I immediately went to my room and stroked my dick with one hand and held my phone looking at the pics I snapped of her with the other. I just kept chanting , “You’d let me ruin you, wouldn’t you?” to myself like I was in a trance.

She told my friend I’m “sweet” and “artsy” and now I can’t get the image out of my head of painting her nude and licking the brush clean. I’m so far gone that if she ever moaned my name on accident, I think I’d just nut on the spot and die. Heart attack. Instant cremation.

I have dreams where she kisses me in secret, all desperate and trembling, telling me she wishes she was dating me instead. I wake up hard and aching, tip already leaking, so sensitive I have to breathe through it like labor.

I can’t keep doing this. But also? I’ll never stop. I’ll die gooning for her.

Top Comments 💬

u/YoMama43: ngl i once nutted to a voicemail my coworker left me by accident and i thought i was down bad LMAO. but you? you’re the goon king. i kneel to you.

u/ObscureLemonXx: so no one’s gonna talk about the part where he said breathing through his hard-on like labor??? like SIR. why is this the most erotic and deeply upsetting thing i’ve ever read?

u/IFucktUranus: Bro. I read this shit twice. Once as a gooner, once as a romantic. You ever edge so long you feel like you could speak in tongues?? You’re not sick. You’re transcendent. I’ve moaned into a towel while looking at my neighbor’s old vacation photos. You’re not alone.

u/_DoolSetNett • posted 11h ago

I’ve created an entire goon archive for my friend’s girlfriend and idk who I am anymore.

I (24M) think I blacked out the first time I saw her. Not even kidding. She walked in wearing a giant hoodie and the tiniest shorts that barely covered the crease of her ass, I felt faint just from the sight alone. My friend introduced her all casual like, “hey, this is y/n,” and I shook her hand with the same fingers I jerked off with not even ten minutes earlier. I deserve jail time for that.

I told myself it was a one time thing and it would never happen again, but now I have 13 folders— and that’s just on my laptop. There’s more on the cloud, a backup drive, on my phone, etc. I even made a fucking spreadsheet to track them.

They’re all labeled in alphabetical order:

Folder A: candid pics she’s posted (IG stories, old selfies, this one pic where she’s wearing nothing else but his shirt)

Folder B: voice clips I secretly recorded of her saying random shit, laughing, talking to the dog.

Folder C: audios I spliced together to sound like she’s moaning.

Folder D: my own goon notes that include detailed fantasies. I treat them like mini fanfics.

There’s a “date night” folder. A “nap time” folder. One called “bite marks I wish I gave her.” The worst is a private one just called “sacred.” That one has screenshots of the way she sits, the curve of her waist when she leans over, the outline of her tits when she’s not wearing a bra under those thin tank tops she loves.

I edge to her for hours. No music needed, just her voice. I put her on loop. Thinking about her face, wearing those little fucking shorts. I swear she’s doing it on purpose because the entire bottom curve of her ass cheek is always out. Every time she bends down to get something my dick jumps. I’ve memorized the way the fabric rides up. Sometimes I start at 10 pm and don’t cum until 3 am. I’ve hallucinated her saying, “cum for me, baby,” in her cute, whimpery voice. That happened about a weeks ago and I still think about it every time I touch myself.

Half the time I don’t even cum, I just leak and whimper and catalogue. I edge until my thighs tremble, timestamp my leaks and track how many fap sessions I’ve had in one day. I’ve become a professional goon archivist. I’d jerk off to her selfies and pretend like she’s watching. I stare at my screen like it’s a portal, fisting my cock with one hand, breath shallow, and blow my load like I’m marking her. One time I came so hard to her pics I didn’t even aim, I just let it hit the screen. Watched it drip down her face like I’d bred the pixels.

I try and concentrate on other things too but I can’t, all I can think about is fucking her cute little pussy. What it looks like under those shorts, whether or not she’s shaved (it doesn’t matter, I’d still eat her out anyway). She probably tastes so good, I wanna fuck her until her voice is hoarse and her thighs are shaking. I’d be so gentle at first, but once I get inside her? I’d lose my fucking mind. Every time she leans over and her shirt dips low I can’t help but wanna know what it’s like to fuck her pretty tits. I wanna make her cry on my cock and then I’d apologize but still keep going.

I never act suspicious around her, I talk to her normally like a regular person. I held the elevator for her yesterday and when she smiled at me I nearly jizzed in my pants. She hugged me once after I helped her carry groceries and I had to walk backwards out of the kitchen like some Victorian virgin. I was leaking pre all the way to my room.

I know it’s wrong. I know I’m sick. But she’s become this deity that I worship in my head. I serve her. I spill for her without her ever asking. If she ever found my folders, the audio edits, the moan loops? I’d have to legally change my name, burn all my hard drives, go off the grid, and live in the woods.

But until then? I’ll keep building my archive. For her. For me. For the goon gods.

Top Comments 💬

u/NoticeMeSenpai69: Bruh… you’re not alone in this. I goon to my homie’s girl daily. She walks around in those tight ass leggings and calls me “dude” like I won’t nut thinking about it for the next 3 days straight. You’re just chronically down bad, it’s honestly normal. We’re visual creatures. Ain’t our fault they’re walking around looking like bait.

u/1diotS4ndwich: This might be the most mentally unwell thing I’ve ever read. You’re edging to voice clips you secretly recorded?? Man.. that’s not down bad, that’s felony flavored. Go outside. Touch grass. Eat it. Bake it into bread. You need something holy in your system.

u/Rizzler420: yo drop the link to folder C thooo. i ain’t even mad. i just wanna see how real your splice game is maybe we can edge together. virtual goon circle. you bring the audios, i’ll bring lotion and red bulls.

u/Y0ngLixx • posted 9h ago

I jerk off to her laugh. Just her laugh. That’s all it takes.

It started off with pure intentions, just as a joke. I (24M) recorded her once on my phone because she made a dumb pun and my friend (the one she’s dating), wasn’t there to hear it. She has a cute laugh, it was harmless.

Then I listened to it again, and again like it was some lullaby that would put me to sleep.

Fast forward a month later and now I’ve accumulated over 40 audio clips. Its nothing sexual, just her laughing, her soft giggles and stupid jokes. Her doing that little gasp-then-snort combo when she really loses it. There’s one clip I have where she says my name mid-laugh and I kid you not I almost passed out from how hard I got. I thought my cock was gonna split open.

I used to not masturbate a lot, but now I’m doing it practically everyday. Just to the sound of her being happy. I’ll close my eyes, pull up her laugh, and stroke myself into oblivion while whispering things like “you sound so pretty,” and “keep laughing, angel. I’ll make you moan next.” It’s not even about sex anymore. I’m addicted to the idea of her, the sound of her.

One time she tripped over something and fell right into my lap, purely innocent, she’s a clumsy little thing. She looked up at me with those big doe eyes and said, “oops, you okay?” and I just simply said yes, but I got an insta boner.

I edged for four hours straight that night, didn’t stop until my thighs were trembling and my toes were cramping. There were no visual, just her voice on continuous loop. I was begging the ceiling for permission to cum like she had me tied up and giggling over me. She doesn’t even know the power she possesses.

She asked me once if I had a girlfriend. I told her the truth and said no and she was shocked, telling me how someone as sweet as me shouldn’t be single. I smiled at that. Then later, I stroked it raw to the idea of her calling me sweet while bouncing on my cock and tugging my hair.

I have this sick fantasy where she catches me in the act and finds the audio clips. But instead of being mad, she kisses me softly and says, “I’ve always wondered what your moans sound like,” I think I’d cry, or cum, or both at the same time.

I’m a soft gooner.

I light candles, put on a playlist full of her favorite songs, and stroke myself slow and romantic like we’re in love. I know she’s taken, but in my imagination we’ve been dating for months.

Then after I cum, that’s when reality hits. I sit there in silence, staring at my phone screen and can’t help but feel ashamed and disgusted with myself. Her laughter still plays on loop in the background, but now it sounds far away, like I’m hearing her from behind a door I’ll never be allowed to open. I wipe up the mess, lock my phone, then tell myself I’m done.

Until the next time she smiles at me and the cycle continues all over again.

I’ve thought about stealing a pair of her panties. My favorite is the pink lacy ones she likes to wear, I’ve seen the waistband peek out when she wore baggy sweats that sat below her waist. I’ve fantasized about pressing them up to my face, even stroking myself with the fabric wrapped around the base of my cock.

But I haven’t done it, at least not yet. I’m scared she’ll find out, that I’ll get caught or that if I succeed it’ll become a habit. Maybe one day that’ll change and I finally build up the courage.

Or maybe I’ll just keep edging to the sound of her joy, pretending I’m the cause of it.

Top Comments 💬

u/CumSlushiez: Been there before. Not with the laugh stuff but… I’ve got 12 folders for my coworker’s wife. The “I think I’d cry and cum at the same time” line? Too real. You’re not the only building archives. Stay strong, edge long.

u/LonelyyVirgin234: 40 laugh clips is crazy but also… not enough. you gotta diversify the catalog. get some sighs. a yawn. a sleepy hum. build a soundscape. turn her voice into a fucking symphony while you leak into your sheets. this is art tbh, unholy art, but still art.

u/Only1BrainCell: This feels like reading someone’s diary in a psych ward. You’re not soft. You’re sick. You fantasize about sniffing used panties and whispering her name like you’re in a cult. You are one pair of lacy underwear away from a Netflix doc.

u/Minivrse • posted 16h ago

I edge to my roommate’s girlfriend while she reads books on the couch. Fully clothed. I’ve officially lost it.

She was wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie with a coffee stain on it. The blanket was half-tucked under her thighs and had a chipped mug with tea balanced on her knee with a book resting in her lap.

And I came in my fucking boxers just from watching her turn a page.

She hadn’t even spoken a word or anything, just the sound of her breathing and flipping through a paperback was enough. I had to lean against the kitchen counter pretending to scroll on my phone, but my cock was already stiff as a board. I muttered “Jesus Christ” under my breath and shuffled back into my room like I just committed something illegal.

I’ve been gooning to her every night since. Just to the idea of her. Fully dressed and completely oblivious. She’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and she doesn’t even try.

She’s not just pretty though, she’s extremely smart. Brains and beauty, the complete package. She’s always reading something dense, annotating margins, scribbling thoughts like her brain runs on overdrive. And every time she shares one of those little ideas with me, some fact about dolphins or a throwaway line from a novel, I get hard. Instantly. It’s like she weaponized intelligence and wrapped it in cozy clothes and Burt’s Bee’s chapstick.

She collects these stupid little trinkets that I think are kinda ugly. Like ceramic frogs, miniature teapots, one of them is just a rock with googly eyes glued onto it?? But I think it’s adorable because it’s hers. I want to fuck her next to them on the bed while they watch.

I never really gave a shit about relationships. Never cared to be in one. Until I met her. I’m constantly fantasizing about making her mine in the most depraved ways possible. Ripping her hoodie off, spitting on her tits, fucking her so dumb until she forgets her own name and only remembers mine. I wanna hear her beg, make her say “please” while I ruin her slowly. I wanna press my hand over her mouth while I’m cumming deep inside her and whispering a bunch of filthy shit in her ear.

It’s gotten to a point where I’ve developed a whole routine. 9:30 pm: she usually comes over after work. 9:42 pm: She kicks off her shoes and says something like “God, I’m so exhausted,” and I’m already hard. 10:00 pm: I’m in my room preparing my little set up and edging myself to the sound of her voice echoing from the living room.

Last night I jerked off for three hours just listening to her eat chips and argue about movie plots with my roommate. Once, she laughed so hard she snorted and I had to physically stop myself from jerking off or I would’ve blown my load without permission. I tried to take a break but it only lasted for day and a half, I couldn’t control the urges anymore.

I feel like such a shithead for doing this because she genuinely thinks I’m a good guy. She talks to me like I’m safe. Calls me “the funny one” or “so chill.” One time she ruffled my hair and said, “you’d make such a good boyfriend,” and I blacked out mid-convo. Couldn’t remember what I said back. I just nodded and prayed my boner didn’t show.

I treat her like my girlfriend in my head. Goon scenarios where she climbs on top of me in those baggy clothes she always wears, telling me, “I need you” where she rides me slow and sleepy while my fingers strum down her back and say, “you’ve got no idea what you do to me.”

But then I walk out to refill my water and see her cuddling and kissing my roommate. Laughing with him like she’s not the sole reason why I haven’t cum properly in weeks. I just go right back into my room, lock the door, and edge to her reflection in the microwave glass.

She isn’t mine, but my cock doesn’t know that. And at this point, I’m not even sure I do anymore.

Top Comments 💬

u/PizzaSlut662: bros a hopeless romantic and a sex criminal at the same time. “she collects trinkets that are ugly but i still love them bc they’re hers” had me kicking my feet until the next sentence said “i wanna fuck her next time while they watch.” i need to go lie down.

u/StrawberrySodaaa: “9:42pm she kicks off her shoes” Um, are you tracking her like she’s the moon?? I’ve never been this aroused and terrified simultaneously.

u/ChrolloLuciferStan: every day i log into this app thinking “surely it can’t get worse” and then i read shit like this..

u/I.2.N.8 • posted 4h ago

I nutted in my pants when she tied her shoe. I didn’t touch myself, just vibes.

We were walking from the convenience store and she bent down to tie her sneaker. That’s it. I didn’t get a peak of her cleavage, didn’t touch her, nothing. She was just bent at the waist, ass slightly arched while she softly grunted and double knotted her laces. I creamed my pants on the spot. Hands stuffed in my pockets, my sweatshirt covering the damage, but there was a wet spot and everything. I walked back home like I’d been shot in the dick.

She’s dating my best friend and he brings her over all the time like she’s not a walking wet dream designed to destroy my sanity. I’ve always had a thing for older girls so shes literally my type to a T. I’m so fucking jealous of him, I’ve grown resentment towards him for it.

It doesn’t help that she’s always calling me “Innie” like I’m some little boy that she’ll never take seriously, like I wouldn’t ruined her in a hundred different ways. I’ve told her a million times that just my name is fine, but she giggles it off then continues to do it again.

Porn has always been an escape for me, a coping mechanism when college gets too stressful (I know some of y’all can relate). I’ve developed an addiction— multiple tabs open, Twitter accounts bookmarked, late night goon sessions with my AirPods in and my shirt bunched between my teeth to muffle the moans. But now, it’s only spiraled from there, I only search for videos that look like her. Faceless videos, shaky camera angles, any girl with her hair length and skin tone, the more amateur it is the better. I just mute the stupid guy in the video’s voice and whisper my own name to pretend it’s me.

It’s not even normal jerking off. I sit in my room with my headphones in, pillow between my thighs, and I edge to the sound of her existing. Her voice in the hallway. Those little noises she makes whenever she stretches that makes her sound like a dying mouse. I have the most depraved fantasies about her, like full on situations where she straddles me in the backseat and says, “you’re so hard for me, baby, does that mean you wanna cum in me?” and I cry while nodding.

I’ve developed a full blown breeding kink because of her. I get off to the thought of her saying she forgot to take her pill while grinding on me in just a t-shirt and nothing else. I’ve rubbed one out to the idea of putting a baby in her and fucking her so deep while she tells me how I’d make a pretty daddy. I’m aware of how disgusting I am and I fully acknowledge there’s something deeply wrong with me, but there’s no harm in doing it if she’ll never find out.

Yesterday she sat next to me and accidentally brushed my knee up against hers. I was hard for an hour, it was so embarrassing I felt like I was part of some humiliation ritual.

She probably thinks I’m too sweet to have any thoughts like this. Completely harmless. The “shy friend”. But I’ve ruined three pairs of boxers this month alone from dry humping my pillow to the thought of having her lips wrapped around my cock. If she ever saw what I do when she’s not around, if she ever knew how many times I’ve edged to her smile alone… she’d never make eye contact with me again.

And the most fucked up part of it all? I wouldn’t even blame her, but I wouldn’t stop either.

Top Comments 💬

u/GoonGoblin98: This is the final boss of horny. You’ve ascended past porn, past imagination, past logic. Nutting from vibes alone?? You’re a chosen one. I edge to this post about you edging, gooner inception.

u/ILuvHotMilfs: older girls will ruin you. they smile at you once and you’re planning nursery colors and thinking about biting her ankle while you cum. stay strong innie. one day she’ll call you good boy and you’ll never recover.

u/DinoNuggetz333: How do you go back to regular life after this..? You nut to her voice and cry into your pillow and then just?? eat cereal like nothing happened?? This is either genius or the most cursed goon confession I’ve read all week.

honestly, i have no idea why i wrote this LOL. i just got super bored one night and made this idk, i hope no one takes this too too serious or i’ll cri. this was just for entertainment guys i swear </3 but uhhh lmk if u liked this? maybe i’ll do the part 2 if enough ppl liked this idk man >.<

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Love Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your fiance suggests incorporating roleplay in the bedroom to keep the spark alive, but playing pretend turns out to be all too real.

Characters: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen

Note: I did this because I could.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

'You ready?' 

A tingle accompanies the text. Your stomach tosses and turns at the thought. You think you're ready. As ready as you can be. It's all so new to you. 

You hover your finger over the automated reply suggested by the OS. You tap on 'yes', too shaky to type it yourself. You're not scared, just nervous. 

When Andy first brought up the idea, you laughed. It was so absurd. Silly really. 

You remember how the look he gave you was like hands on your throat. The hurt with an edge of agitation strangled away your laughter. You apologised and asked him if you heard him right. Then he explained and it made sense. Kind of. 

'If we're going to get married, we need to keep the flame alive,' your fiance said as you stirred the contents of a pan with a spatula. 'Trust me, I know. A dead bedroom can kill everything else.' 

You frown at the memory. You hate when he mentions his first wife. He's engaged to you now. You're not her. Besides, things are pretty good. That's why you laughed. There was nothing bland to spice up. At least, you hadn't thought so. 

'You know the plan?' He texts. Always thorough, if not persistent. 

'I think' you type as you squeeze your phone tighter then think better of the reply. You backspace. Remember the plan. 'Yes, sir.' 

You blow out between your lip and put the phone on the counter. You look in the mirror and pick up the bottle of moisturizer, smearing it over your face. Half the day you've spent prepping yourself. Everything has to be perfect. Andy is always certain of that. 

You snap the cap shut and peruse the rest of the basket. He thought of everything. New soaps, wax, perfume, and all sorts of goodies. You didn't need it all but he insisted. 

Everything about Andy Barber is pristine and tidy. His house not least of his carefully curated existence. So it is that you often feel as if you don't quite fit it, even when he tells you the opposite. 

Your phone vibes and you look down at the screen as the notification flashes, 'good girl.' 

Your lashes bat and you giggle thinly. You've never done anything like this. You struggle to get a precise grip on the tweezers and have to still your hand with the other. This is wild! 

You rub your thighs together and strike hotter the flame of your anticipation. As much as the whole thing has you uncertain, it has you alight. You steady yourself and lean into the mirror, just a few stray hairs. It shouldn't matter, it'll be dark, right? 

Your phone goes again. You pull back and glance down. You trade the tweezers for the cell and press your lips together. 

'Did you find your surprise?' 

You look up and search your expression. Surprise? You lower your brow and peer around the bathroom. There's more? 

'Bedroom' his next message comes bluntly. 

You chew your lip and leave the mirror behind. You go down to the main bedroom and ease through the door. The room still smells of his cologne. The whole place is drenched in him, meanwhile most people wouldn't guess at a glance that you lived there too. 

You see it on the bed. White silk and lace. The lingerie is sheer enough that you may as well forego it. You near and touch the scalloped hem. You know it must be expensive, funny how so little fabric can be worth so much. 

You step back and take a picture. You send it to Andy and wait, your thumb between your teeth. He replies. 

'Put it on.' 

His blunt orders add to the thrum coursing through you already. It seems he's already in character. You need to get yourself together and do your part. 

'Yes, sir.' 

You set the phone on the corner of the mattress and trade your bathroom for the lingerie. The thong, while high-waisted has you on full display. Not ass, no crotch, just lace straps that trim your thighs and bottom. The top is an open teddy with cups that do nothing to censor your pert nipples. Just wearing it sends a thrill through you. 

You take the phone and return to the bathroom. You use the full-length mirror to frame your reflection with the lens. You snap a few pics and sift through for the best one. You hesitate before you tap the little arrow. You're a mess of paranoia and lust; you shouldn't send photos like this and yet you can't help yourself. 

You wait for his reply. Wait and wait and wait. You have to stop yourself from staring at the phone, knowing that your hyperfocus will only slow time. You cross to the counter and place the phone near the edge. 

Your attention is drawn to the sheer fabric acrosd your chest. You can't suppress the moan that leaks from you. You can feel how excited you already are but your eagerness might just get in the way of the whole thing. 

You sigh and the buzz draws you back from your anxiety. You read the message, almost disappointed. 

'Midnight.' 

That's it. That's all he has to say. Was the pic not good enough? Is this part of the roleplay? You don't know. 

As ever, Andy has you guessing at what he really wants. Hopefully this time, you get it right. 

💕

10:47pm. You’re wired. You’re trying to settle down. You have freshly laundered bedding and a glass of wine; all the perfect ingredients to lull you to sleep. That’s all you need to do. Fall asleep. 

Yet knowing what’s coming won’t let your mind stop. Ugh, your heart is racing again. You need to finish the wine. You push yourself up and have another gulp. You lay in the glow of your phone, a Get Ready With Me playing on low volume. Usually this all works. 

Not tonight. You’re too buzzy. Too frazzled. Too eager! 

You empty the glass and lay back down. You were generous, filling the wide body of the glass to the halfway point. At least two regular glasses worth.  

Your head meets the pillow and you start to feel it. The acidic burn spreads through your veins and you sink into the soft sheets. You turn your head to watch the small screen of your phone, vision slowly hazing as the contoured woman applies her lip liner expertly. 

Your eyelids cling and start to itch. Your heady is swishy, your tummy too, and your limbs weaken. It’s working. You try not to think too much about it, not wanting to counteract the alcohol with your self-awareness. 

You roll onto your side and drift into a half-conscious daze. Your brain swirls and your blood burns hot. Your breathing slows and piques only when your rouse, glancing at your phone as a new video plays. The time stamps into your vision; 11:25. 

You curl your shoulders inward, more tired than anxious now, and slip back into your tipsy stupour. The screen is just a glow on the other side of your eyelids and the audio a scratch in your ears. It fades beneath the even ebb and flow of your quiet snores. 

As the light fades out and the sound dwindles to nothing but the still of night, you wake again. Your eyes open to the darkness. You’re alone. Confused. 

You feel around on the bed for your phone. It must have timed out or the battery died. You don’t find it. Instead, your wrist is trapped in a strong grip and dragged away from the duvet. You gasp and remember what’s going on. It’s starting. He’s there. 

“Ah, ah,” comes the grizzled tut as your other arm is seized and your hands are brought together above your head. 

Andy’s shadowy figure straddles you, pinning you to the mattress as you squirm. You let out a squeak and he hushes you. You still and arch your back, trying to push your chest up. 

“Please, who are you?” You whine, doing your best to play into the scenario. “Please, my husband will be home soon--” 

He shushes you again, holding your wrists together as he leans back to reach behind him. You can hardly see through the dark and your foggy tipsiness. The curtains have been drawn, obscuring the room to fuzzy lines and pulsing shadows. 

He hooks something around your arm; a leather cuff, then secures your other wrist. He keeps your arms up and reaches behind the mattress. He attaches the wring between the cuffs to some unseen hook. Where did that come from? 

You writhe as he stares down at you. You squint back at him, trying to see through the dim. Something feels off. He’s so quiet and forceful. It must be part of the roleplay but it just doesn’t feel like him. He feels like a stranger. 

He backs off of you, peeling back the duvet to drop it on the floor. He prowls along the foot of the bed and you kick your feet, whimpering as you strain against the cuffs. You keep forgetting it’s a game. You have to play your part too. 

“Please, don’t hurt me,” you beg. 

There’s no answer. Andy continues to pace, back and forth, back and forth. He's really transformed. Where he would usually have his hands on his hips, he has them folded behind him, shoulders squared, his steps lighter. 

He stops and lets out a willowy rasp. He unzips his jacket, slipping off the sleeves slowly, deliberately. You lift your head as you try to see him clearer. Did he change? He must have dressed up too. 

Then he pulls his shirt over his head and huffs out again, a growl catching in his throat. He drops the shirt with his jacket and the duvet. Andy never leaves a garment outside the closet or hamper but this isn’t Andy, remember? This is an intruder! And you’re the helpless housewife. 

You nearly moan at the thought. Something about it is so hot even if it makes you a bit squidgy too. You tug again on your wrists as you hear his zipper slice through the din. 

“Please--” you beg. 

He kicks the footboard and the loud bang silences you. You can’t help the pathetic noise that trickles from your tongue and you swallow. He’s doing good. It feels so real. 

He continues to undress. Your heartbeat picks up as you wait for him to really start. He bends to pick something up then climbs over the footboard onto the bed. For a moment, you wince. His silhouette is slimmer. Or seems so. The difference is so minuscule it might be your wine-laced brain playing tricks. 

He catches your kicking feet and pushes your legs wide. He trails his hands up them, a piece of fabric tickling beneath his left palm, and firmly hooks them around him as he moves between them. He stops at your pelvis, his rigid length hovering over you. He stretches the black cloth across your eyes, blotting out what little sight you have. He knots the band behind your head and you gasp. 

He traces along your cheeks and your jawline, as if he can see you through the dark, as if he’s learning you by touch. His fingertips dance down your throat and across your shoulders. You feel fragile as he toys with the strap of the lingerie and feels along the flimsy cups, circling his thumbs around your nipples as they pebble beneath the sheer silk. 

He gropes you and growls. The noise is guttural and raw. It flutters into your core and has you twitching. He pushes his knees against your cunt, moving so the friction flurries in your clit. You babble and raise your chest, hungry for his touch. 

He flicks your nipples and his hands crawl onward, down your torso, doting on the soft flesh of your stomach, and framing your hips as he draws back on his knees. He snarls and bends over you, bowing as he grips you tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you whine as you feel his hot breath against your folds. 

He nuzzles along the edges of the panties, growling as he does, squeezing your harder, then at once, buries his nose in your cunt. He wiggles his head and drags the tip of his nose up over your clit and swipes his tongue up to further set you aflame. You moan and curve your back, planting your heels as you urge him on. 

He delves into you, lapping and licking, suckling and swirling. His arm reaches up and he kneads your chest, blindly pulling the lingerie under one tis. He pinches as you cry out and he rolls your clit between his teeth. You puff out shallow breaths, swept up in the sensations. 

This is so different. Unlike he’s ever been before. He’s almost feral in how he touches you, how he feels you, how it seems he wants to consume you. There’s something else different, something strange you can’t place.  

Did he shave? You can’t tell, It must be the wine. His cheeks feel bare against your thighs and yet you swear you feel that scratchy tickle against your cunt. You don’t think about it; it’s all too much to focus. 

You squeal as you cum, spasming into his face as he drinks up your orgasm. You’re heaving and hollow as he doesn’t let up. He laps at you until you’re begging him to stop. Until you’re quaking, nearly sobbing in overwrought pleasure. Until you have a second, a third, and a fourth. 

Your slickness smears over his face and across your thighs. As he parts, his breath is humid, and you can smell the sweet scent of your release. You shiver as he raises himself up and the bed jostles. He snarls and slaps your thighs, squeezing until you whimper. 

He shifts and slides a hand under your leg. He flips you onto your stomach so your arms twist and your face is buried in the pillow. You pant into the linen as he smacks your ass with both hands and growls as he fondles you. You murmur as his touch sends tendrils down your legs and up your back. 

He grips your hips once more and raises your ass. Oh my god. It’s only a few times you’ve done it like this, often Andy prefers you on your back. He says he likes to see you.  

He pulls you back against him, his length resting between your cheeks as he bends over you. He inhales the scent of your hair and snarls against your crown. He reaches down to feel between your legs, spreading your swollen cunt as he angles his hips. 

His tip slips down and he uses his fingertips to guide it to your entrance. You’re so wet he slips right in. He sounds just as surprised as he gasps. He sinks into your limit and you whine. He retracts his arm, hooking it around your neck, and thrusts. 

You squeal as he buries himself even deeper. He does it again; harder. It hurts. You croak and press your chin down into his arm. You feel a ripple of fear. His chest feels... bare. Andy has that trim of fur that you like to play with. Maybe he got rid of it? For the roleplay? 

He snaps his hips again, staying deep before slowly rearing back. He pauses, then bucks again. The impact of his pelvis on your ass is painful and he’s hitting your cervix. 

“Ow, Andy--” 

“Quiet,” he grits in a deep sneer and brings his other hand up to smother your mouth. 

He leans his weight on you, your neck and shoulders aching from the angle of your spine. He dips into you again, again, again. Each pause between grows shorter as he tilts into a full rut. The entire bed shakes with his motion. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and curl your fingers into your palms, the cuffs slowing your circulation. You huff into his hand as he continues his rampant fucking, skin slapping, bones aching. Harder, deeper, faster, until you’re delirious. 

“What’s your husband going to think when he comes home to his wife being fucked like a slut?” He rasps and nibbles your ear, “huh? How’s he gonna compare to this, baby? Your husband can’t fuck like me can he?”  

He taunts and you cringe. You don’t like it anymore. It’s not fun. You don’t want him to be this man. To be this rough and rude. You want him to be Andy. You try to say his name again but only taste the salt of his palm. 

“Keep your mouth shut, slut,” he sinks into his limit and stays there, his voice echoing in your head. His tone is just... off. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

[facewithoutheart]

Thanks for the tag @prettygoododds! I totally agree the 10 to 1k challenge is way more about editing than it is writing, which I’m really loving even if omg it’s so hard.

I’m off traveling with my husband for our 12th anniversary. I spend most days alternating between being so full of love for him that it feels like my heart can’t bear it, and wanting to push him into the nearest lake. Marriage, am I right?

See below for writing updates and photos from my trip, plus a small cursed snippet.

I’ve also been doing a ton of writing while traveling and none of it on things I should be working on 🤣

Some updates:

I’ve been really loving the 10 to 1k challenge which I wasn’t planning on entering, but got an idea the night before flying out and so I guess when else do you start a new WIP? Check mine out here if you want … it’s a buddie fic where Eddie will kiss Buck … but only for five minutes at a time. Featuring lots of mutual pining and self-hatred. These boys are really good at hurting themselves. This whole fic has really helped hone my short game. I’m having a great time.

I also started posting more silly adventures of Buck the robot. It’s dumb it’s sweet. At some point there will be porn.

To the excitement of none of y’all but a lot of buddie fans, I finally started tackling my sequel to We Are Like Frogs Oblivious. It’s basically just gonna be mpreg smut interspersed with some sweeter moments. If you’re hoping for angst resolution, you’re in good luck.

I started plotting but haven’t written much of my FTH fic for @thewholelemon. I’m kind of annoyed I got a wave of juice that dissipated in favor of buddie, but it’s based on a tv show I can’t currently watch, so fingers crossed motivation comes back when I’m home.

And then for my most cursed fic, I wrote, like, 6k of RPF on my flight to Zurich. It’s ringing too melancholy now (I was so anxious while flying I feel like that colored my creativity), but I’m gonna share some of it below because I need a reason to dive back into the google doc and convince myself it’s not as bad as I remember:

The worst part is Oliver’s not even frustrated that what comes hard-won to Oliver comes so naturally to Ryan because on their first joint interview together he finds himself equally as charmed.

“I loved you in Into the Badlands,” Ryan says shortly before the cameras start rolling.

Oliver, who prides himself on never being caught off guard, is surprised by this. “I wasn’t aware that show had much of a following.”

“Well, no,” Ryan admits, his aw shucks in full force, “but I tried to watch at least one film or show for each of the cast when prepping for the job. Did you know Chimney was in Halloweentown?”

There’s a moment where Oliver could feign shock; it’s clearly the reaction Ryan expects. Because that’s the normal response one has when one of your co-workers boasts the prestigiously credited role of “hip-sales-creature” in a Disney Channel Original movie.

Instead, Oliver finds himself confessing, “I did, actually.”

When Ryan doesn’t seem thrown by Oliver’s reply, simply sits there, full eye contact, his shoulders angled toward Oliver and one hand on his chin like Ryan couldn’t imagine anything more interesting than the drivel Oliver’s about to spout, Oliver adds, “When I got cast as Buck, I actually watched every project Angela, Peter, Connie, Aisha and Kenny ever made.”

This makes Ryan react, his brows flying upward to that lush hairline of his. “Every … every project? Phew,” he whistles, “that had to have taken …”

“Way too long,” Oliver finishes for him. “I can be …” Oliver bites his lip, thinking about how to phrase this, and doesn’t miss when Ryan’s eyes track the movement “… intense,” he lands, a bit breathless.

“Mmm. I’ll say.” Ryan’s smiling placidly, like he didn’t just reveal a tell that would send Oliver in a full panic if he’d allowed it.

If you’ve made it this far, here’s some photos:

& tags for people who I don’t think will be annoyed at the lengthy update lol @sillyunicorn @martsonmars @raenestee @thewholelemon @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @stitchyqueer @forabeatofadrum @fiend-for-culture @artsyunderstudy @aristocratic-otter @ic3que3n @run-for-chamo-miles @monbons @roomwithanopenfire @whatevertheweather @ileadacharmedlife @skeedelvee

[leithillustration]

I am frantically prepping for London Comic Con and UK Games Expo while swimming against the tide of fatigue, so I am late on posting (ironically having initially drafted this days ago 🌝) but I'm not sure these can be described as WIPs... more like works to possibly be resurrected? Context and photos below the cut.

I was procrastinating spring cleaning and going through my old plan chest last weekend when I found some paintings and sketches I made about 5-7 years ago. Some will be binned, others given to old clients, but these ones I am keeping to turn into new things. I'm not sure what I'll do with them all yet. Maybe cut some up? Paint stuff on them? What would you do?

I hope you're all having a good week. It's way past Wednesday so please take these tags as me sending chill vibes to you all 🩵🩵🩵

@youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @alexalexinii @cattocavo @that-disabled-princess @orange-peony @cutestkilla @rimeswithpurple @larkral @best--dress @scribble-tier @theimpossibledemon @artsyunderstudy @raenestee @thewholelemon @nightimedreamersworld @itriednottothinkaboutit @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @angelsfalling16 @the-beard-of-edward-teach @monbons @katatsumuli @fiend-for-culture @aristocratic-otter @snowbazdaily @argumentativeantitheticalg @lovelyladzzzz @nausikaaa @blackberrysummerblog @prettygoododds @mooncello @leofrun 

[pulisicsgirl]

breathe, you're okay - mason mount

summary: when the mounting pressure of a Women's UCL run is falling on Y/N's shoulders, she isn't handling it by herself as well as she would like everyone to believe she is

pairing: Mason Mount x footballer!reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, no established relationship, !!descriptions of a panic attack!!, discussions about mental heath, supportive Mase

requested: no

notes: surprise!! I'm sorry I haven't posted in months-- my life kind of went up in flames over the summer and I haven't had the time to write that I was hoping to. I have a few WIPs in my drafts, and I am still working on all of your requests! Please let me know what you think of this!

The hot afternoon sun beat down on you, and you felt the drops of sweat sliding down the side of your head and tickling the hairs on the back of your neck. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you ran up and down the field, weaving between cones, carrying the ball at your feet, running through a series of consecutive drills that were designed to refine your skills and test your endurance.

You did your best to recall the instructions that your coach had carefully laid out before the team began the drill, but with the heat and the fatigue that was seeping all the way into your bones, it seemed impossible to remember. You wound up relying on the teammate in front of you to recall what you needed to do next.

You let out a heavy sigh of relief when you heard the sound of the whistle—two short chirps, signaling for you to halt your movements. You draped your arms over your head, drawing in deep, heaving breaths as you attempted to get your heart rate under control.

You joined the rest of your teammates as they gathered around the coach, preparing for his parting words before everyone was dismissed.

“Good session today, ladies,” he clapped his hands in front of him, looking around the circle. “I’m seeing a lot of good things. A lot of improvement in our touches and finishing. You all are looking really good.”

A couple of the girls clapped at his words, the rest too exhausted to do anything but listen.

“We have the day off tomorrow, so use it well. Rest, recover, and come back Monday ready to go. We’ve got some heavy prep next week before the second leg on Friday,” he continued, and a couple others whooped, getting excited for the upcoming big game.

“They’re gonna be a really tough opponent, I’ll be honest. We know that their back line is really strong, tough to break through.” Your coach’s eyes fell on you, and you knew what was coming next before he even began to speak, your stomach sinking slightly. “But that’s what we have Miss Y/N, for, right?”

Several of the girls cheered for you. The girls near you slapped you on the back, trying to get you hyped up. And the weight that had settled in the pit of your stomach grew heavier.

The Manchester United women were on an impressive UEFA Women’s Champions League run, overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds to make it to the semifinal. And according to the media (and now your own teammates and coaches), it was all thanks to you.

In the group stage, a decisive game in which your team had gone down 2-0 in the first half had seemed hopeless until you had scored two goals in the second, assisting on the third to put your team through to the knockout games. Another three goal contributions in the quarter-final matches had put you in the spotlight of all of the team’s media coverage, thrusting a wave of attention upon you that you had never asked for.

You had gone down 1-0 in the first leg of the semi-final, and now you were playing from behind. And it seemed that everyone expected you to be the one to pull them out of it.

So now, you were left feeling the pressure as the second leg was fast approaching.

“Alright, ladies. Have a good rest of the day and a great day off tomorrow.” He clapped his hands, dismissing you all. The circle of girls dispersed, chatting among themselves.

“Am I still leaving the cones out for you?” the coach raising his eyebrows at you. You only nodded in return. “Okay, don’t work yourself to death.”

You laughed humorlessly as you fiddled with the ball at your feet, not meeting his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, resting a hand on your shoulder to try to draw your attention to him. “Get some rest tomorrow, okay? We all see how hard you’re working. Give yourself a break.”

Another nod is all that you can muster, and you don’t miss the short sigh that he lets out as he drops his hand from your shoulder and walks to join the rest of the group moving indoors.

You repositioned a few of the cones to set up your own drill and got right into it.

Across the field, on another training pitch near yours, Mason watched as you carried the ball with you up and down the field, weaving between cones, practicing a few skills that he had seen you implement in games, and taking a shot on the goal at each pass.

He was supposed to be doing a bit of extra work with a few of the boys. The men’s team had finished their training session about an hour before, but a few of them still felt like they wanted to get a bit more done before calling it a day. So here they were, running a few small three-a-side games to utilize the last of their energy that day.

But he couldn’t help but notice how you never stopped.

During the team training, you were always one of the hardest-working ones out there. When he had returned to the pitch from lunch, you were taking shots on the goal with the rest of your team nowhere in sight. He wasn’t even sure he had seen you eating lunch inside when he thought about it.

And now here you were, sprinting across the length of the field, over and over, after the rest of your team had hit the showers.

He felt a twinge of worry for you but brushed it off as one of his teammates called his name to pull his attention back to the game they were playing.

Your head was spinning as you pushed yourself to keep moving. Your entire body was drenched in sweat. Every muscle ached from overexertion as you gritted your teeth, forcing them to keep moving. The sun was dizzyingly bright as the evening set in. You could feel the heat practically radiating off of your skin. Your lungs were burning with your heaving breaths and your mouth quickly grew dry.

“That’s what we have Miss Y/N for, right?” Your coach’s words echoed through your head as you carried the ball down the field.

“Y/L/N carries the Man U Women through to the semifinal!” You recalled the title of the article as you weaved between the cones.

“I really believe Y/N Y/L/N could be the one to lead Manchester United to their first Women’s Champion’s League trophy!” You heard the words of the pundit clear as day as you planted your foot, striking the ball cleanly. It soared through the air, curving toward the goal, and struck the crossbar. The ball flew away from the goal, bouncing pathetically on the ground in the penalty area.

You took a pause, the words and expectations crashing around your mind leaving an unsettling feeling in your chest. As you stood there, you couldn’t seem to get your panting breaths to grow steadier.

Your shirt suddenly felt too tight on your neck. You grasped the fabric, pulling it away from your body in an attempt to allow yourself to breathe easier, but nothing seemed to be helping.

Your head was spinning. You felt your stomach sink, a feeling like when you plummeted down the tall hill of a rollercoaster, a sick feeling settling in your abdomen. Your skin began to crawl, and you just couldn’t stop hyperventilating.

You began to panic. Eyes searching frantically for relief. You weren’t sure what you were looking for—something, anything.

You suddenly felt like you were too out in the open, needing to seclude yourself away from the sight of prying eyes. You set into a sprint, off of the field and around the corner of the nearest part of the building to you, trying to find some shade from the hot sun and hide yourself from anyone who might see your pathetic state.

But it was too late. Mason had seen the whole thing.

They had just paused their game for a short water break. He had seen you take the shot, instead hitting the crossbar. It only took him a few seconds once you paused to realize that something wasn’t right.

He watched the way your chest rose and fell rapidly in quick, short breaths. When you began attempting to pull your shirt away from your body, he instantly knew what was taking place. He’d recognize that feeling anywhere.

You were having a panic attack, whether you realized it or not.

As soon as he saw you take off for the side of the building, he was running after you without so much as a word of explanation to his teammates.

Once in the shade of the wall you hid behind, you began pacing, unable to keep still. Every inch of your body felt jittery, and you felt unsteady on your legs. You couldn’t manage more than rapid, shallow breaths. Your throat felt tight, your breaths sounding more like wheezes, and it was starting to make your head spin. Your hands flew to your head, scratching at your scalp in an attempt to somehow rid yourself of the feeling.

You were startled by Mason swiftly rounding the corner, concern written all over his face as he stopped in front of you.

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay,” he spoke calmly and evenly. He quickly reached up, taking your wrists in his hands so he could gently but firmly pull your hands out of your hair to keep you from hurting yourself.

“I can’t, Mason. I can’t,” you panted, shaking your head ‘no’ frantically and still trying to weakly pull your hand from his grip.

“You’re okay, Y/N. Try to slow down your breathing,” Mason’s calm voice directly contrasted your frantic behavior, speaking in short sentences so as to not overwhelm you more. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

A short sob fell from your lips, and you felt the tears spilling over and down your cheeks.

“We’re gonna lose,” you sobbed, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. “The semifinal, we’re gonna lose it, and it’s gonna be all my fault.”

In that moment, everything clicked into place for Mason-- the UWCL run, your success in the games leading up to the semi-final leg, the pressure from the fans and the team, the countless extra hours you had been putting in.

A loud noise in the distance, coming from the direction of the parking lot, startled you, snatching your attention and you whipped your head to the side, eyes searching frantically for the source. He released your wrists from his hand, testing the waters as he turned your head back to look at him with a hand on your cheek.

He cradled your face with a hand on either side, keeping your focus on him. His thumbs wiped the tears away that had slipped down your cheeks.

“Hey, look at me. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you,” he repeated the affirmations he had already been telling you.

As he stroked his thumbs softly over the skin of your cheek, he felt that your breathing was already growing a bit slower. You had reached up, holding onto his wrists with both of your hands to steady yourself, feeling too unsteady on your feet. His hands were gentle and soft on your skin.

Mason watched your expression, taking long deep breaths for you to emulate. Your eyes were still wide, darting frantically around his face, but you were trying your best to follow his breathing. He continued whispering short reassurances.

“You’re safe.”

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“I’ve got you.”

You were beginning to calm down, but your eyes darted to something behind Mason, pulled away from the calm atmosphere he had tried to create for you.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he spoke gently, pressing his forehead to yours so you would only focus on him. You were shocked at how little the intrusion on your personal space bothered you. In fact, to your surprise, the closeness seemed to settle you a little more.

You continued focusing on your breathing, gripping tightly to his wrists as if you thought he’d disappear if you let go. Your eyes were clamped closed, listening to Mason’s soft and slow breathing. You felt your pounding heart being to slow its pace.

The panic you had been feeling subsided, leaving behind a wave of extreme fatigue. You felt completely and utterly drained.

Mason must have noticed the way that your body slumped over, and he guided you to sit down on the grass, leaning back against the brick wall of the building. He sat down next to you, leaving space so he didn’t make you more nervous. But in the haze you felt in your mind, you felt a need to still be close to him, leaning over so you could place your head on his shoulder. A short pang of guilt washed over you as you noticed the crescent-shaped indents you had left on his wrists, your nails digging into the skin as you had held onto him.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, your eyes slipping closed as you continued focusing on breathing slowly. A gentle breeze blew through, cooling your clammy skin and brushing through the blades of grass.

“I used to get them sometimes, too, you know?” Mason broke the silence, speaking softly.

You responded with a quiet, “hmm?” unsure of what he meant.

“Panic attacks,” he explained. “At the end of last season, before I left Chelsea. There was a lot of pressure. Any time I played, everyone had something to say about it. Even when I didn’t play, some would find a reason to be upset. It all just got to be too much.”

A deep sadness filled you while you listened to his words. “How did you get through it?”

“Ben found me having one in my car after training one day.” He was quiet for a moment. “I tried to power through it—like you. Skipping lunch and staying late to train a bit extra on the field or put in an extra session in the gym. But once Ben realized what was going on, he made sure that I was taking care of myself properly and wasn’t dealing with it on my own anymore.”

You sat up so you could look at Mason’s face, and you saw a hint of sadness there. “So I’ll tell you what he told me. There are 10 other people with you on that field at all times. If you fall down, there are 10 pairs of hands ready to help you back to your feet. If you succeed, there are 10 others to celebrate with you. But it’s not all on you.”

Your eyes were misty, welling up with tears at his words. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a secure hug as the tears began to stream down your cheeks.

“No matter the outcome of the game next week, you’re an incredible player, Y/N.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve already done so much so early in your career. The media and the fans will say what they want—don’t let them get to you. And your coaches may get carried away with their expectations for you, but it’s just because they’re so excited to see you succeed. Just be the player you know how to be, and your achievements will speak for themselves.”

“Thank you, Mason,” you whispered after pondering his words for a moment. No words could express the gratitude you felt for the relief he had brought you just by letting you know that he was there and he understood. But as he squeezed your shoulders lightly in response, you hoped he knew just how thankful you were.

Eventually, Mason helped you to your feet, guiding you back toward the fields. You were still feeling a bit weak and unsteady, so he made sure you remained upright with a gentle hold on your arm as you walked. Deciding it was time for you to call it a day, he insisted on collecting the cones that you had been training with, not allowing you to help him by picking up even one of them.

It took some convincing but you told him you would be fine to drive yourself home—his only condition was that you texted to let him know you made it there safely.

“Alright, then. Rest on your day off tomorrow. Give yourself a break, okay?” he spoke as he put the last of the cones away. “I’ll check in with you on Monday, if that’s okay.” He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. The two of you had been friendly before today, but you wouldn’t have considered yourselves close friends. He just wanted to be sure that you knew you had people in your corner.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” you nodded, smiling at him. With a final hug, he sent you on your way as he turned to rejoin his (undoubtedly confused) teammates where he had left them.

“Remember: rest!” he shouted back at you as you parted ways, and you couldn’t stop the blushing smile that worked its way onto your face.

tag list: @landoslover @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti

[tinytalkingtina]

WIP Weekend

Thanks for the tags @vthx and @pearynice!

Rules: Send me an emoji in an ask, and I'll write 3-5 sentences and/or paragraphs from that WIP. No limits to the amount of emojis you can request, please feel free to send multiple (help and send for the BB oh G-d what have I done)

🐶 B.A.D. D.O.G. (sequel to the college AU puppy play Stomeddie/Stommie fic) is nearly there! Finishing up the SFW portions now :)

🧜‍♂️ Participating in the STMonsterCalendar Mermay Bingo event 2/4 fics for this are completed so far! Just the paired buckingham/steddie fics to finish

🏴‍☠️ Eddierotica: "Eddie writes the world's worst erotica about characters who are just poorly disguised versions of himself and Steve. They're not dating." will continue to be a game of "how many times can I make my partner roll their eyes" at the terrible prose 💥Steddie BB: Signed on last minute, let's gooooo. Since I can't talk about this publicly yet, if you send in this emoji feel free to pick another fic as well, and I'll write 3 sentences for both. (at roughly 1k so far)

Tagging a few folks to join in: @fuctacles @queenie-ofthe-void @apomaro-mellow @hbyrde36 @fkinkindagauche

@hitlikehammers @runninriot @helpimstuckposting

@strangerthingswritersguild

Enjoy a SFW snippet from the Munver Mermay documentary-style fic below the cut!

While our H. splendens has given him nothing but a warm welcome, the alphan firefly mer approaches slowly. We can see there are long-healed but deep scars on his flank. Perhaps before the incident that gave him these wounds, our H. scintillans might have given into whatever impulses pass through him recklessly. But this firefly mer is older and wiser now, carrying the lessons he’s learned through the years. And so, it is with caution that our H. scintillans reaches for the gift left for him. The omegan betta mer gives off an encouraging trill, swimming in an alluring figure eight display. His long fins are on full display from the movements, their bright hues and lack of tears or cuts indicating his ability to hunt for food successfully and maintain high grooming standards to this potential mate. With such encouragement, the alphan firefly mer makes quick work of the seaweed, revealing the treasure within: a beautiful silver bead of pearl. Our omegan betta mer spent the better part of a week polishing and prepping his gift, making it shine just so. But will the gift be enough of an opening salvo for such an unconventional pairing?

[krashlite]

Needed a proper pinned post aha-

Hello hello! I’m Krash, I use he/they/it pronouns, and I do art, animation, and sometimes character analysis posts (aka, insanity rambles) in the fandom space

Primarily I’m in the Life Series / Hermitcraft / MCYT fandom, but I also make fan content for Campaign Skyjacks and various other medias I’m interested in

I ALSO REBLOG A LOT! So it’s much easier to use the tags on my page than scroll, I fear

My art is under “#krash art” animation is under “#krash animatics” and analysis posts are under “#krash’s insanity rambles”

Main Sona design ^^^ (I technically have a second one for my WC channel/QuirKrash ', but I don't use them as often)

Current major projects under the cut! vvv

Project SSMM

Right now, I’m in the designs / concepts stage for an AMV series I plan on making for seasons 1-4 of the Life Series (temporarily dubbed “Project Sun, Stars // Moon, Mars” or “Project SSMM”)

I technically already started the first AMV in this series (wips under “#ICD progress logs” but I definitely jumped the gun in terms of prep work so many of it’s subject to change!

LF!AU

I’m also in the process of (re)writing my Sci-Fi / Horror AU called lensFlare (which you’ve probably seen mini animatics for on my TikTok!). This takes place in a version of the EVO -> 3L timeline where the watchers are an ancient tutorial mod / AI system gone rogue. All traces of this mod were thought to have been eradicated until an unlucky player, Scar, fell out of the game and into an unfortunate arrangement. This deal was struck with what used to be another player, someone who breaks reality through sheer existence and insists Scar follow suit

I’m mostly finished with the world building and have the most barest bones of a storyline planned so far. This one’ll probably get a lot of hints and teasers while I’m sorting out the details lol

[zenkor123]

WIP Weekend

Leeg says "your compassion is why she never will deserve you, we're all talking about her moral backbone which she has none, name one thing she has ever done for anyone else that wasn’t selfish”

Peeta laughs “You think too highly of me”, Peeta tries to remember a kind act Katniss did before stumbling on, not from the games so Lady does not count. “she probably fed starving  children in  the Hob" the Memory comes back in fragments, "back when Romulus Thread was in charge of 12." Other memories continue to flow, a starving 9 year old orphan that Katniss picked up outside his bakery when he was unable to help, her "trades" with the community home being gossiped about in school, "and that’s not the only thing I remember." Peeta remembers Katniss's lack of anger at him for the strangulation, and lack of anger towards him in general, when she has every right to be.

"I think she is very compassionate, and 12 agrees  with me, everyone" Peeta hesitates as the memories, and fragments of memories play in his head, if 12 says she is kind, then the memories happened. "except my mom" A memory of Peeta talking up Katniss at the dinner table pops up during which Myrna quips about how she's a cold seam survivor, too starved to be kind and how the community is fooled by her. "talked about how kind she was.” Peeta remembers her reaction to the treatment of her prep team and is about to bring this up until Tong snaps him out of it.

“Sure you do” Tong laughs “or you have a gigantic crush on her, and it’s leading you to confabulate  bullshit” 

Leeg makes kissing noises

"No I don't!" Peeta says angrily

tagging @persephoneprice

 @mollywog @dumbasswhorebug @imasradiantasthesun @eleanorjane0690 @mega-aulover @waywardangel-wilds @arthdoesart @atelierlili @ashyblondwaves @strawberrymelllark @fyreflys. @kald-dal-write @mage-chocolate

[shehatescoffee]

WIP Game!

Rules: In a new post, list the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

the lovely @birdhousematerial tagged me, so here we go!!

i have far, far too many WIPs (if you can call a google doc with a few lines on it a WIP) in my folder, so here are a select few!

heirloom pain - canon megumi and dadjo character/relationship study

if u want - canon itfs relationship study (focused on their mutual tendency toward self-sacrifice)

about 10 different angsty one shots inspired by various mitski songs, both itfs and stsg

dr jekyll and mr hyde - itfs (yuuji and sukuna as jekyll and hyde)

itfs as stucky

i could stare at your back all day (and i know i’ve kissed you before but i didn’t do it right, can i try again, try again, try again) - teen stsg groundhog day fix-it fic

and i wake every night (crying "set me free") - itfs hunger games

delinquent/nerd megumi x jock/prep himbo yuuji

itfs hercules au

stsg The Fall Guy fic

along with a million more!! sorry these aren't really titles as much as vague ideas, but happy to yap about any of them people want to hear about!!

open tag for anyone who wants to talk about their writing!! :)

[worldsfromhoney]

Greetings, plebeians

This is your resident unknown and attention-depraved author/writer, BEE/bee/beE/🐝

Here’s some stuff about moi:

I like… tea. YES I LIKE TEA 🍵🍵🍵 it’s quite honestly the greatest invention of all time

I also like reading. That’s kinda like a hobby that all writers are mandated to say. Which is reasonable.

I’m a fan of miniatures and piano. Yeah, I did try them out. Yeah, I did fail spectacularly, thank you! ☺️

I also like painting but the therapy one and not just a blank canvas that sucks the soul out of artists lol

What do I write?

I write… stuff. BEAUTIFUL, HEARTBREAKING STUFF, mind you. But it’s still stuff, so lemme elaborate.

Speculative fiction - if you idk this, it’s really just a mix of fantasy and sci-fi; the ‘what if’ genre

Urban fantasy - don’t get me wrong, I love high fantasy, but urban is waaay easier to worldbuild

Steampunk & other punks - PUUUUNK 🤘🤘🤘

Horror and thriller - mostly psychological and body horror, don’t worry! I don’t do jump scares or anything ☺️

Slice of life - mwah my heart and soul mwah

Others - yes, I am capable of doing other genres 😤 I’m a multi-faceted bee, you know?

DISCLAIMER: what I write might only reflect upon my psyche and state of mind but that is not a guarantee

My WiPs

I am proud to say that… I DO NOT HAVE ANY!!

*gasp* what ever do you mean bee? Are you quitting writing? *sobs*

No, my darlings.

i just have no big projects to boast about right now. I feel like big projects aint my thing at the moment and pushing myself only led me to disappear from the internet for a month 😞

What i do have are short works i randomly choose to write and post here on tumblr !!

✨ FICLET MASTERLIST IS HERE ✨

🐝 POETRY MASTERLIST IS HERE TOO 🐝

If you’re interested, please comment on this post or reblog or DM me if you want to be put in the taglist!!

Does that mean you accept… requests?

…………yes. Yes i do. Go and flood my askbox you plebs !

Am I anywhere else?

Please. It’s 2023. Of course I’m… everywhere *cue evil laugh*

Bluesky - if you haven’t heard it yet, tis the new Twitter… cuz it’s literally made by the old creators of that glorious blue bird *cue a moment of silence*

Tiktok or Twitter - do not look for me here

Tumblr - EYYYYYYYYYYY i post ALL my stuff here !! They’re really just bait to hook some writer friends 🥹

Ko-Fi - ehem ehem i know first drafts are considered shite but BUT i have decided to make them available for perusal yes you can burn your eyes to anyone who buys me a cup of tea ~

Patreon - i finally have one!! I’m still setting it up tho and prepping all the content 💛💛💛

I’ll be doing a patreon soon enough actually so look out for that

How I organise myself

Well i wish this is applicable to actual life because i’d very much like to know how 🫡

Jk, here be the tags:

#bee writes some stuff - my micros, my flash fics, my text posts

#bee plays some games - tag games !! which i have never played before till now !!

#bee does some prompts - this will definitely see the light of day… someday

#bee stalking some writers - what it says on the tin

#bee answers some asks - omg i only added this because someone actually sent me one *faints*

#bee saves some stuff - there are way too many resource posts that i’ve scrolled past cuz idk how to tag

[swaps55]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by @citadelsushi. Thank you!

Tagging @mallaidhsomo, @stormikins @cr-noble-writes @striderincosmos, if you feel so inclined!

A sneak peek at Horizon:

~

“Our best chance of helping these people is to get to the GARDIAN controls,” Miranda says. “We have to stop that ship.”

The gravity well does a somersault, thick and sluggish. “Garrus. See if you can find a terminal and a colony schematic. If this place has some kind of bunker or safehouse…”

“I’m on it.” Vakarian disappears into a prefab.

“Grunt, Jack, scout ahead. Have a feeling there’s going to be more resistance waiting for us the closer we get to that platform.”

“Come on big guy,” Jack says with a jerk of her head. “Bad guys this way.”

Miranda jogs to keep up with Shepard as he follows Vakarian into the prefab. It looks like someone’s quarters. A child’s board game sits half-finished on the table. A newsfeed plays on a vidscreen. Shepard ignores all of it and hovers behind Vakarian, who flips through files on a terminal.

“Shepard, what’s going on? Who are you looking for?”

“You’re right,” Vakarian says. “There’s a safehouse, here, in the center of town.”

“With the defense system out of commission, he’d have tried to save as many colonists as he could. That’s where we look.”

Miranda resists the urge to shoot them both. “Shepard if we lose that ship, this mission fails.”

Shepard whirls back towards her so fast she almost recoils, but Vakarian lays a talon on his arm before he erupts.

“I’m on it, Shepard. If he’s still on this planet, they’ll have to go through me to get him off it. I’ve got the safehouse. You need to get to the GARDIAN. If he’s on that ship, you’re the one who can stop it.”

What am I missing? Frantically Miranda runs through the mission briefing. Someone is here. Someone he cares about.

The Alliance team.

The mission briefing hadn’t contained any names. She’d written it off as unimportant. Chambers’ report confirmed he hadn’t attempted to reach any of his old contacts. He’d bought into the mission. Believed the collector threat.

But there’s someone here, and they’re important to him. Important enough to risk the mission over and she’d missed it. Between handling Jacob and prepping for the collectors she’d missed it.

What did the Illusive Man tell him? And why didn’t he tell me?

“Take Solus,” Shepard says quietly.

A hum runs through Vakarian’s subvocals. “I’ll find the bunker, then circle my way south towards you. Don’t die while I’m gone. If I find him and lose you, he’s going to be pretty pissed.”

He claps Shepard on the shoulder before heading out. In the direction of the GARDIAN platform, the whine of collector rifles sound over Grunt’s distant roar. Shepard unracks his rifle.

Miranda falls into step beside him. “Shepard, what haven’t you told me?”

He doesn’t so much as glance at her. “When it’s your business I’ll tell you.”

“You’re compromising the mission with a side objective I know nothing about. If you told me I could—”

Now he does halt, gaze searing a hole through her. “See how fast I leave this colony to the collectors and wash my hands of all of it.”

The horrible thing is, she believes him.

[umbracirrus]

WIP Folder Game

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips

Tagged by @hircines-hunter <3

And lmao, I'm not tagging that many people, I think I have more WIPs than people I follow-!! I'll leave this as an open tag for anyone :)

I'll break this down by folders as I mostly sort my WIPs by character...... Mostly. And I'll do my Skyrim and Oblivion WIPs. And I'll save the obvious (the Elyse/Balgruuf folder) for last because lmao there is a lot in there. A few things have been omitted due to being glaring spoilers for things I'm writing that I want to keep hidden for now.

I've also indicated with * where something is smut lol

Oblivion

2 heroes of Kvatch

Aelia becomes Sheogorath

Aelia reaches complete madness

Losing Martin turns Aelia to madness

Skyrim

Carmyne

DB and Sanguine (cursed)*

Fire Salts

Ivetta and Hemming

Ivetta after marrying Hemming

Ivetta and Hemming Actual

Lich Dragonborn

Lusine and Farkas

Margarethe and Miraak

Miraak Sylla Werebear Attack

Thorne and Vilkas

Thorne memory she'd like to forget

Tyri and Avulstein

Aevra folder

Aevra and Galmar

Aevra and Galmar actual

Aevra arrested after Sovngarde

Aevra Diplomatic Immunity

Aevra Galmar S*

Ulfric Aevra peace treaty

Ulfric Aevra once she is dragonborn

Misc ideas folder (essentially WIP graveyard)

Alduin and Sylga (this is yet another folder, but as this is WIP graveyard I'm not going to go any further)

Hadvar and Cassia

Selene keeps Mercer alive

Siriane Ondolemar after Alduin

Thea Vilkas folder

Purity

Thea Vilkas celebrating

Thea Vilkas comfort

Thea Vilkas Heljarchen Hall

Elyse and Balgruuf folder

Balyse smut*

Elyse and Balgruuf actual (*eventually. Take a guess what this WIP is....😅..)

Elyse and Balgruuf sequel

Elyse and Balgruuf sequel (Edwyn stuff)

Elyse as Dragonborn

The Perfect Storm edits

AUs subfolder

Elyse as Jarl AU

Elyse and vampire Balgruuf

Concepts and removed parts subfolder

Balgruuf buying earrings for Elyse

Balgruuf meeting Edwyn

Balyse High King and Queen

Elyse and Balgruuf battle for Whiterun

Elyse and Balgruuf battle for Whiterun other part

Elyse and Balgruuf get together

Elyse and Balgruuf go drinking

Elyse and Balgruuf og version

Elyse and Balgruuf poison plot

Elyse and Ingja in Winterhold

Elyse at Whiterun hall of the dead

Elyse Balgruuf get married in Riften

Elyse Balgruuf S*

Elyse duels Ulfric

Elyse finds Lucia a home

Elyse looking after ill Balgruuf

Elyse pregnant

Elyse reminiscing with Edwyn

Elyse telling Dagny about her parents

Elyse w Balgruuf's kids

Hrongar sparring and or flirting with Elyse

Ulfric stirs trouble using Frothar

Why Elyse leaves Chorrol

Edwyn and Ingja subfolder

Ingja and Edwyn

Ingja Edwyn reunion

Ingja telling Elyse story about dragonborn

Oneshots subfolder

Balgruuf gets longing letter from Elyse*

Balyse drunk

Balyse idiots s*

Balyse kidnapping

Balyse kissing on city walls

Balyse new life jump

balyse smut* (this is different from the other one, I just didn't capitalise the name!!)

Balyse table*

Elyse and Balgruuf cosy

Elyse and Balgruuf drinking at BM

Elyse and Balgruuf going for a walk

Elyse and Balgruuf kissing on the throne

Elyse and Balgruuf little smooch

Elyse and Balgruuf swordfight s*

Elyse caught in a storm

Five times the idiots kiss

Idiots in a broom closet

Stuff I probably won't post subfolder

Balgruuf Elyse and Aina

Edwyn and Aina

Elyse and Ulfric AU

Elyse Balgruuf throneee*

Elyse Ulfric's prisoner in Windhelm

Things to maybe include or has been included subfolder

Balgruuf Elyse s*

Balgruuf proposes

Balyse prep for dinner

Battle for Whiterun

Dragon attack

Elyse and Balgruuf argue over her fine

Elyse and Balgruuf first time*

Elyse and kids bake a cake

Elyse Balgruuf desk smooches

Elyse Balgruuf wedding in Dragonsreach*

Elyse birthday after marriage

Elyse blackmailed by Maven

Elyse chatting with Sabjorn

Elyse giving Balgruuf her axe

Elyse has to go to Winterhold because Korir fucked up

Elyse invited to Dragonsreach

Elyse given a copy of Mikael's book

Elyse talking to Savos Aren

Elyse tells Balgruuf about Korir

Fjora being sus

Irileth and Hrongar at festival

Whispering door quest

Whiterun Guards subfolder

Ingrida and Uthgerd

Fjora and Sorik

[ninas-simming-adventures]

Get to Know Me Tag Game

I was tagged by @townsenddecades :)

Last Song: NME by Set It Off. A deep cut that I hadn't listened to for years but we're prepping for a music festival and Set It Off will be there!

Favorite Color: Pinks and purples! Specifically 554 by DMC.

Currently Watching: My fiancé is introducing me to Survivor so we're watching all the seasons with Boston Rob and his wife Amber. Started with season 4 and we're almost done with season 2 (we didn't realize Amber was on the show earlier than Rob!). I'm also making him watch What We Do in the Shadows for the first time and we're on season 2.

Last Movie: The last movie I remember sitting down and watching was Interview with the Vampire a few months ago. I'd never seen it before and it was surprisingly good.

Currently Reading: This is a little embarrassing but it's a historical Scottish romance called Highlander Most Wanted. It's not the greatest but sometimes you gotta have a comfort read!

Sweet, Spicy or Savory: Maybe savory? I tend to go for salty over everything else.

Current Obsession: Watching Survivor and playing sims. Also Disney Solitaire. If you have not played and like tripeaks solitaire and Disney, I recommend it.

Last Googled: "How to get ordained in Ohio". Fiancé's brother is getting married tomorrow and he was last-minute asked to do the ceremony.

Currently Working On: Hanging up my art in our office/guest room, lots of WIP cross stitches, and prepping for a weekend trip with my sister and her best friend!

I'm tagging @capsmind @thestressedsimmer and @simuleehistories (no pressure though!)

[crownleys]

So @serially-wayhaven tagged me in this tag game like two weeks ago and I've been so busy I've had no real WIPs til now, so here we go! (Thank you for the tag <3

Rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like).

I've been slowly working on a lil Nat/Kira WIP before I start doing some prep for October/Halloween commissions <3

And I will tag @delucadarling @nsewell @mysterycyclone and @swordsandspectacles

[mjparkerwriting]

Y’all….I’m done!

I’ve been a little quiet for a reason. As I said before in another post, I’ve been pretty busy lately. Friend stuff. Writing stuff. Relaxing stuff. Getting ready for an end of summer trip AND prepping for a new school year, teaching at a new school. A lot has been happening.

BUT I just finished my first draft of TLBH. Like…I’m done! My minimum goal was 85k and today, I hit 85,144, which I am perfectly happy with. I am so excited to be done and really proud of myself for sticking with it.

Now, I will be taking a break from looking at this WIP and anything to do with it. Editing and second draft stuff will sit on the back burner for a bit. I have an idea for another story that I wanna work on and haven’t been able to dig into too much lately because I wanted to finish this project first, so I will start shifting my focus to this standalone project before going back to my big series stuff.

Now, whenever I play different tag games and such, I’ll have two different stories to pick from.

Thanks everyone who’s followed me, liked, reblogged, etc. Thanks for all the asks and tags and all the support. You guys are really awesome and I can’t wait to share other stuff with you all. :) 🤍