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#and you really make me want to get better at both drawing and writing :3
f0xgl0v3 · 2 days
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How does one Elias Bouchard hold his Pipe/The overall murder scene
Tw this like entire post is about the proper way to hold a pipe if you wanna effectively hit someone with it several times repeatedly :3 also spoilers for MAG 80
Guys I am simply a writer and this is just for writing and thought experiment purposes, none of this shall or should be applied to real life and it’s just for the haha extended sounds of brutal pipe murder-
What has come to my life-? I’m talking about Elias Bouchard and how he holds the Pipe to murder people- I, there will be actual Percy Jackson stuff soon. Maybe talking about Camp Jupiter and armor and gear and stuff or something however,
Everyone draws Elias with really weird hand positions on the pipe-? That’s a weird thing to say and the art is fantastic but if your beating someone with a Pipe then there seems to be a way I always thought in my head-
Let’s, for the sake that I’m halfway through season 4 consider the only Pipe murder I am currently aware of would be Jurgen Leitner’s, we can work with this. Elias is standing over him at the other side of a desk while Jurgen is seated I believe-? There are a couple ways we can go about this,
1) Elias hits him while they both are in the neutral position at the desk
2) Elias walks over to Jurgen’s side during the conversation and hits him then
3) Jurgen stands up from his chair and then Elias hits him.
I have had to listen to the sound clip so many times for this- I- okay. So, the beginning of the murder still is Jurgen talking, I think audibly a bit worried. I’d like to make the assumption that while Elias is like “bird stuff always a risk about death” that is when the pipe is revealed, Jurgen is taking the moment to try and reason with him and I think 2 and 3 are the most viable due to the sound they use. In 1’s scenario Elias wouldn’t get enough strength in that first swing (due to the desk being in the way, and Elias most likely having to lean over the desk to try and get a strong strike.
Then, the sound- I believe Elias initially hits Jurgen from the side of the head, think like the same ‘row’ that your temples are on, that vague side of the head. Jurgen is heard with a grunt by the first hit; we don’t hear him fall or anything (which makes me suspect it could be a situation of Elias walking over to the other side of the table) and it doesn’t really sound like Elias moves where he hits very much- continuing to strike that original spot; otherwise we’d likely hear the crunch of bone. Am I making the assumption that the sound design would include the crunch and that I would know what hitting a skull with a metal pipe is, oh yeah totally.
Now, that settles how I think this entire thing played out, Elias revealing the pipe as he walks over to the side, Jurgen looks up in old sad man still seated and is trying to reason with Elias, maybe he even attempts to get up and that is when Elias strikes in the right side of his head (just what makes sense to me, it could be the left either it wouldn’t matter much) and repeatedly hits there 11 times (yes I counted the strikes we hear, no I don’t have anything better to do with my time because I’m putting off writing a script) before like dipping or whatever.
Now, the pipe posture if you will. I see so many drawings of Elias’s hands like this,
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Raised, and for all intents and purposes from an art sense it’s rad. It’s a dynamic pose and stuff, and of course this is not a critique on artists (who are way better than me) and how they want to draw this fictional man hold his pipe. However this is my brainrot talking on the ‘hey I think this is how he’d get the most effective swing’ because I’ve listened to two seasons back to back and I no longer have a brain.
But; Elias Bouchard wants the most bang for his buck so to speak. I think holding the Pipe like the tried and true baseball bat would provide this. Elias holding it like in my very bad diagram is good if he’d want to poke or stab someone with the pipe, but it’s really effective if you can get that swing in. So yeah, baseball style; hands together near the end of the pipe and over a shoulder or even over his head if you want to be silly with his posing.
Uh, haha okay. I’m sorry but the rot is all consuming and I’ve been thinking about him a lot, also like Peter Lukas and a bunch of the other sillies but this kinda- forced itself out while I was looking at art of the scene. I, uh, :3 that’s all. I like thinking about the mapping and layout and planning of scenes like these and how the visuals might’ve looked if there were visuals. I promise I probably won’t make any more posts like this for a solid while (however, talking about Bryce Lawerence and my thing in SoN are-imagining that he was the one to kill Gwen… maybe.)
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certified-bi · 5 days
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Okay all my thoughts because some people have been saying that not supporting this change is not supporting artist and creators and as an artist fuck that.
1. Audiences owe you nothing. You have to convince them to engage with your creation not the other way around. This is something both the nonprofit theatre I work with recognizes and huge companies realize. It's just part of life. There are so many talented people in the world making amazing art, videos, music, writings, and on and on, and there's only so much time in the day. I'm not saying you shouldn't know your worth, just that being flippant about how little you care about those who can't pay isn't a good move. On that note...
2. PR is everything. If you haven't made a visible effort to push patreon, channel memberships or other avenues of making money, don't be suprised that your creation that was previously accessible to those without extra cash and to those who can't support foreign subscriptions due either to conversions or because it simply doesn't work, being made private isn't popular. There's a big leap from "We want to have more artistic control" to "We can't afford to make our content accessible to most of our audience," and people are smart enough to see this. You either have to make budget cuts or give into sponsors. This isn't unique to Watcher, it's part of literally every production from broadway, to Hollywood, to YouTube. Unless you can fund it yourself or get viewers to pay(which given how many are already strapped for cash...) that's life.
Not to mention they simply do not have enough followers to make the switch to a paid only site(dropping the first epsiode only on YouTube isn't going to draw people in, they're just going to say "oh why start if I'm not going to see the rest" and not watch) especially not one that is buggy and a security risk. Even if the switch had been supported its not going to end well. The only reason services like nebula and dropout work is because of the large amount of series and creators and the fact those creators still are partly on YouTube so new people are drawn in.
3. As for the price, 6 dollars a month is a not a good starting price for only their content and that's as someone who pays for nebula. I'd be paying the same amount for a fraction of the access to others work. Actually it'd be twice as much. And before someone says "it's only a coffee-" that's for you. Not everyone has your lifestyle. And with every other patreon and subscription service that says the same thing, it all adds up and I simply don't think 60 dollars for 48 videos a year on a subscription basis where you don't get to keep the videos if your situation changes, some of which don't appeal to every viewer is a good move. If you were able to buy physical copies of your favorite series they've made that'd be different, but that's not what this is.
4. I do believe that the employees deserve a livable wage. I also did not hire them. It is not on the viewers that they hired more people than they could afford to. They can charge that much if they want to to try and balance this out. They also shouldn't be suprised if not many can or will sign up. They also don't have to be based in L.A. L.A has ridiculous costs associated with it, and quite honestly it doesn't really add much to the content. I'm not saying they need to move to the middle of nowhere Kansas. Simply that living and basing your studio in a super expensive city and then being suprised money is tight is just weird.
5. Something that occurs to me is that they might get more views if their playlists were better set up. Only some series are given playlists. It'd be easier to find all of the series and binge them if they didn't just show off their more popular shows. Honestly the only draw the streaming site has to me is that the series are actually labeled well.
Do I think the weird ass energy towards Steven is necessary? No. He's not the only one at the company and they're all adults. I actually liked grocery run and homemade, and like to see them back. The parascoial attachment to Ryan and Shane is annoying in people's criticisms, but that doesn't make them completely wrong. If you're going to brand yourself as the anti capalist underdogs you can't get away with being dismissive of your poorer fans. The dissonance is what is causing this backlash and makes you look like hypocrites. I definitely think Steven is turning into the fall guy which is fucked up, his statement and the fact dish granted is one of those shows that make people uncomfortable about wealth flexs doesn't help matters.
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wolfiesmoon · 17 days
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Genshin guys as dads 🤭
in honour of finally getting off my ass and finishing mondstat, i bring you genshin men as dads <3 i decided to challenge myself and write for characters i haven't written for at all yet
the reader is gender neutral (u can interpret that the kid was adopted or u can interpret that the kid is biologically yours)
Yk the more i read these guys' lines to get a better idea of their characters the more i think they need a therapy session stat
Characters featured: Diluc, Alhaitham, Childe, Ayato
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౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Diluc Ragnvindr
"Diluc! Diluc, are you in here?" you knocked before opening the door to his office, assuming he's probably there. You were finally returning to the winery late in the evening and wanted to see how your daughter and husband were doing.
Tonight, they should both be at the winery.
But to your surprise, the office was completely empty. You haven't heard a single peep from your daughter yet, either. Usually she'd be running around and yelling, even if she wasn't with Diluc.
You went upstairs to check your bedroom and were met with a most adorable sight when you opened the door. Your daughter was very peacefully asleep, drool and all, on Diluc's chest. Diluc did not seem very pleased with this arrangement, however.
"Welcome home." he sighed upon seeing you walk to the side of the bed.
"Looks like someone's on pillow duty." you teased him, petting your daughter's head.
"Don't make fun of me. She's been running around all day with seemingly no end to it. Sometimes I'm surprised at what her tiny legs are capable of." he leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling.
"She said she's not tired at all. But she fell asleep almost instantly when she sat on top of me to, umm... bother me." to anyone else, Diluc would seem like he hates this kid with how much he says she bothers or annoys him, but you know that isn't the case.
Whenever she runs up to him to show him something she did, he pats her little head lovingly. He keeps the drawing she made of him in his office, even if he is a bit concerned at how grumpy he looks in her artistic interpretation.
"I wasn't making fun of you... Okay, maybe a little bit." you leaned down, cupping Diluc's face and kissing his cheek. He hummed in dissaproval, but his cheeks turned pink anyways.
"Would you mind joining me? If I can't... I want to know that you're safe, atleast." his eyebrows were creased in worry. You don't know what for, exactly, but you gladly joined him on the bed, hugging him too.
"Is your aim to suffocate me further?" the combined weight of about a quarter of your body and his daughter was not the most freeing in the world.
"No, I just happen to understand the appeal of sleeping on top of you." and you really do. It's always so warm and homey.
"You've worked hard today, dad." you moved some stray hairs out of his face. His tired eyes met yours for a moment before they slipped shut. Hehehe, you need to take a photo of this.
౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Alhaitham
(let's pretend you live together with him now instead of kaveh haha)
"Dad doesn't love me!" the sudden accusation had you turning your head fast, wanting to know what was going on. "What did he do, sweetie?" the little pout on her pudgy face was adorable.
She ran up to you and hugged your leg. "You still love me, right?" she seemed very worried about your reply. It seems like she isn't in the mood to give a proper answer to your question, though.
"Of course I do. You're very very very special to me." You pat her head gently. She seemed satisfied with your reply, giggling happily at you before running off to play.
.
When Alhaitham returned home that day, he attempted to interact with his daughter, as he tries to every day, but he was utterly ignored.
He looked to you, hoping you'd know the reason, but you just shrugged. "She says you don't love her anymore."
"Hm..." was his only reply.
"That's because he doesn't! I told him 'I love you' yesterday but he didn't say it back!" Your daughter crossed her little arms, scowling at her dad before turning around so she didn't have to look at him.
"So it was that." Alhaitham seemed like he understood the situation properly now. And you realised what happened too, because it happens to you occasionally.
"Sweetie, listen. Your dad likes to wear these thingies in his ears. And when he wears them, he can't hear a thing." You explained in the most child friendly way you could.
"Not even an explosion?" Your daughter finally turned back to look at you and Alhaitham, though her eyes were fixated firmly on you.
"Nope. Nothing at all. When he didn't say 'I love you too' yesterday, it was because he was wearing them and couldn't hear." Your daughter turned her head back with an annoyed 'hmph', but you knew she was listening to you.
"So I propose a hug attack. Whenever you see him wearing them." You smiled evilly, glancing at Alhaitham who shot you a dissaproving glare in return.
"Leave me alone." Your daughter huffed, stomping off down the hallway. Oh well, kids don't always think critically, do they? You have a feeling she's already forgiven him a little, though.
"Children make no sense to me." He admits, and you finally greet him properly with a little welcome home peck.
"That's the fun in it, though." You smiled at him and to your surprise, he smiled right back. As awkward as he can get with the kid, he loves her a whole lot.
౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Childe
"Mhhhh... what is it?" he mumbled in annoyance when he felt his hand getting shook. His voice sounded quite raspy now.
"Dad... Dad..." turns out it was your son who was pulling on Childe's arm. He looked like he was about to burst into tears any second, now.
As soon as he saw the distress on his son's dimly lit face, his attitude changed and he was overcome with the sudden urge to take revenge on something or someone. Maybe it's the dad instinct.
"I had a nightmare.... I'm scared..." your son sobbed.
By this point, even you woke up, but your body was still mostly asleep, so you were just listening in.
"Come up here." Childe tapped the bed and your son awkwardly climbed up into his arms.
"Was it a scary monster?" Childe asked in an exaggerated scary voice. Your son nodded, gripping onto the front of Childe's shirt.
"In that case... you don't have to worry at all. I always love a challenge." you could practically see the smile on Childe's face. You turn over, opening your eyes slightly. You have to admit, the sight in front of you is adorable.
"What do you mean, dad?" your son sniffled, rubbing the snot away with his tiny hand.
"I'll fight the monster, of course. Oh, how wonderful it would be to see the b-" he winced a little bit when he felt the light slap on his face.
"Ajax, you'll scare him even more." you warned, your own voice raspy. You moved your other hand to ruffle your son's hair to comfort him.
"Ow, clearly, someone doesn't appreciate me enough." Childe rolled his eyes playfully.
Without warning, you lean forward and peck him on the lips. "There. Now I've evened out the slap."
"Just one peck? Well, I suppose we can't do much more right now... Hehe." Childe turned his attention back on your son, stroking his back gently to calm him down.
"Why do you have that look on your face?" you noticed he was smiling strangely.
"What look?" your accusations have been denied. But he sure does have a plan for you later.
౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ Kamisato Ayato
"DAD! Look at where I am!" Your son shouted from somewhere in the tree that was stood in the beautifully maintained garden.
Being the little rebel he is, he climbed the tree despite you telling him multiple times not to.
"Please get down from there. It's unsafe." Ayato tried to reason with him calmly upon noticing him in the treetops.
"Nah, it's so cool up here! I can see the whole estate!" Sometimes, your son's stubborn nature made it hard for him to get along with Ayato. This is one of those cases.
"This is not a joking matter. You could get seriously hurt." Ayato doesn't think he could properly live with himself for a bit if his kid got hurt when he could have prevented it.
"What's going on here?" You joined in, happening to pass by the garden.
"He won't come down. I'm... worried about him." He admits, crossing his arms. Though you do sense a bit of annoyance behind his voice, too.
"Come down. I told you not to climb that tree so many times." You crossed your arms firmly. Your son looked at Ayato's face, then yours and sighed, beginning to descend from the tree. He'd rather avoid a scolding. But his little foot slipped and he suddenly tumbled to the ground.
"Son!" Both of you immediately ran to his side as he started wailing. "Call for healers. Immediately." He seemed fine, looking at him initially, but he might have a broken leg or something.
Both of you stayed by his side the whole time, offering him words of comfort (and a bit of a scolding). It seems like something like this happens almost every week, now. The Kamisato household has certainly gotten livelier ever since getting blessed with your son.
.
"Well, that was certainly an afternoon." You huffed, sitting down behind the table across Ayato.
"I wish he wasn't so reckless and disobedient, sometimes." Ayato held his cheek in worry. He let his son get hurt, again.
"He got that mischief from you." You smiled innocently, sipping your tea.
"Whatever do you mean, dear?" He smiled innocently back.
"I miss days of solitude. We only have moments now. I suppose my life hasn't been a calm one for a long while now, though." He sips his own tea, looking outside at the sunset. Working as hard as he does every day is taxing on the soul.
"Guess we gotta make the most of it." You stood up, sitting back down next to him and playfully pecking his cheek.
"Oh, I see what you mean." He returned the mischevious smile you know and love. Just as he grabbed your waist, though...
"LOOK WHAT I HAVE!" Your son burst into the room, holding a sword. His sword.
"Aren't you supposed to be resting?!"
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lydiimae · 25 days
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Home.
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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
18+ MDI
Based on a request you can find here <3
Warnings: angst, mentions of family member death, mentions of alcohol, arranged marriage, awful reader relationship with mother,
A.N: Hello my loves, and hello to my lovely anon. I'm so sorry for being MIA, I had midterms and good god they almost killed me ‘︿’. Anon- I hope that this is what you wanted, I am not the most experienced in writing angst but I found this quite fun (perhaps my love of making a dramatic story lol). Thank you all for the love, as always. Mwah ≧◡≦
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He did not expect you to change so much in your time away. Sure he expected you to mature in the four years you were gone, you were coming back at the new age of twenty-one. He just did not expect all of the light, the light he loved, to be gone. His Y/N had changed. She had gone from warm to cold, from happy to sad, in such a short time.
Your father and his father were close friends. Both of them being Viscounts meant that they spent a lot of time together. You, being the eldest of your family but also too young and rowdy to really click with Anthony, got on just as well with Benedict. There was always an unspoken love between the two of you that neither of you were brave enough to admit.
The only one with who you got on better than Benedict, was your father. It was apparent for anyone to see that the two of you had a unique bond. A bond that you most certainly didn't hold for your mother. She was cold and extremely cruel, your father had only married her for convenience. So, when your father died, Benedict expected you to be devastated. Who wouldn't be? He had been sick for many years before his death, a case of scarlet fever that just never went away. It was expected, but that did not mean it was less painful.
The night he passed, you showed up at his family's doorstep in tears begging for the footman to bring him down. So, after being woken up by said footman, he tugged on a robe and rushed down the stairs. He saw you and immediately knew. He rushed to you and scooped you up in his arms before taking you up into his bedroom and soothing you into sleep. Proper decorum be dammed, he stayed with you the entire night and then had a carriage bring you back home at dawn.
A week later, you, your mother, and your younger sister showed up at the Bridgerton's door dressed in all black. Violet led you all into the drawing room and gathered the rest of the Bridgertons as well, after hearing your mother mention that she would like her dear friends to be present for a big announcement, always the attention hog. Benedict was dragged in by Eloise, expecting another lecture about the upcoming social season, but his face quickly fell when he saw you.
You already looked so defeated, so tired. You looked up and forced a sad smile, moving over on the sofa so he could sit next to you. He walked towards you quickly, and sat down next in the space you made, discretely offering his hand. Your face softened, and he could tell you were holding back tears, but nevertheless, you gripped his hand tight in your own before focusing your attention on your mother.
"We are going to France, where my family lives. I feel the girls should get to know the rest of their heritage now that their father has passed on." She says bluntly, the cold look on her face never changing. His eyes widen and instantly snap over to you, internally pleading with whatever power he can think of that this is not true. That you will not be swept away before he even has the chance to try and win you over.
You are chewing on your bottom lip, the anxious habit you have had ever since you were young. You look over at him slowly, your eyes filled with unshed tears that he knows you will not let fall. That is when he knows that it is true. His Y/N is leaving. For God knows how long. To be stolen by God knows who.
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You sigh as you get out of the carriage that has trapped you for the past eight hours, stretching out your limbs before taking in the scenery. That damn two-day carriage ride from the port had been nothing but exhausting. The estate you grew up in is standing tall right in front of you, and yet it is almost unrecognizable now.
It looked the same, sure, but something about it seemed a lot less colorful without your father. The impending doom of your arranged marriage hanging over your head probably didn't help that fact either. Your mother had been clear in what she wanted when you got to France, a rich man. Not for herself, but for you. Someone who could expand upon the rather large dowery your father had left you. Someone who could make her rich, your happiness be damned.
And so that is just what you found. The hunt for a suitable husband had begun a year after you arrived in Paris, your eighteenth birthday coming and going without a peep from anyone but your sister, Lucy, and a long letter from Benedict. Your grandmother was just as cruel as your mother, if not more so. She quickly introduced you to a man named Noele Beaumont, a man in high-up places in French nobility. An extremely wealthy man.
In the three and a half years you had known him, the two of you had done nothing but fight. Well, the fighting consisted entirely of him shouting at you until you were either in tears or hidden away in the closet somewhere, your chest rising and falling much too fast. It seemed that cruelty was, in some sick and twisted way, attracted to you.
Your mother, after much convincing, had allowed you and Noele to take your home in London upon marriage. That, and, she had allowed for the marriage to be held in England. You were home, finally home, and now you were realizing that it does not matter if you are home or not. The world had lost its color.
"Y/N, whatever is the matter?" Lucy piques up from beside you, taking your hand. "I miss him, Luc. That is all. I miss him and I wish that he were the one here instead of mother." You whisper, wiping an escaped tear from your eye with the back of your hand before turning to your sister. "But at least I have you, and at least we are home." She smiles sadly in response, gently leading you inside.
Your mother greeted you both with a flat expression, having insisted on traveling home a week before to make sure nothing had gone awry in the years that you had been gone. Noele and his family will join you in a month, during the week of the marriage. It seems that neither of you wish to spend more time with each other than necessary. "You have a letter already, Y/N. From one of the Bridgerton's. Do make haste of reading it, we have no time for silliness." She mutters, handing it to you before walking off with your sister.
You sigh and walk into the drawing room after handing your cloak to a maid with a smile. You look around the familiar room and breathe deeply, hoping for the comforting smell of the tea your father used to brew, but are quickly disappointed when all you smell is your mother's obnoxious perfume. You sit down on the chair by the bookshelf and open the letter.
You recognize the handwriting immediately, Benedict. He wishes to see you as soon as he can, but more importantly, he has asked you to be a model in the latest portrait he is painting for his classes at the academy. You smile softly to yourself, taking in the woodsy scent that comes off the letter, the world getting a bit brighter if only for a moment. You sigh and walk up to your bedroom, smiling at the comfort that washes over you, before sitting down and drafting a letter of your own, telling him that you will make time for him come noon tomorrow.
You run your fingers over the parchment when you have finished signing your name. So many words left unsaid. You smile sadly and fold up the letter, sealing it with the wax crest of your family before passing it to a maid with instructions to take it to the Bridgerton household before the evening comes.
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Oh, how you despise your mother. After about two hours of arguing yesterday, she had finally given up and allowed you to go and see Benedict. You were used to the names she called you, 'whore' and 'harlot' being the two she most often used, but she had far stepped over the line yesterday.
She had run out of insults to call you and moved on to Benedict. Insulting his artwork, his standing in his family, his habits, anything she could grasp at she used.
"You are to be married to a nobleman in a month, Y/N! You will be tainted by that boy, he is nothing but a disgrace! His head has always been in the clouds, you know that!" She shouted from where she stood in your bedroom. You grit your teeth. "Take that back this instant, you moron! That family has done everything for us! He has done everything for me, he cares more about me than you could ever dream of!" You shouted right back.
She had gone on for at least a half-hour more, finally giving up when Lucy walked in and pleaded with the both of you to stop. "You are nothing but a whore looking for attention, Y/N. You will ruin yourself with him. You will, and I will not help you out of the hole you dig yourself into." Your mother huffed, before turning and walking out of your bedroom.
Your sister had stayed with you last night. You had fallen asleep in her embrace, nothing but a mess of sobs. You wished for nothing more than to go to him right now and run away to the countryside, and leave all of it behind. But you had a duty, you had to look out for Lucy's happiness so she would not be doomed to the life that you are now forced to live.
You had woken up in the early morning, your lady's maid helping you into a dark blue dress before leaving you to your own devices. You spent the hours up until eleven reading and avoiding your mother like the plague. You walked downstairs once it was time to leave for the Bridgerton estate.
A short carriage ride later and there you are, in the same position that you were four and a half years ago, knocking on his door with tears in your eyes. You had become emotional about five minutes out, overcome with the joy of finally seeing him. Finally being able to speak to him, rather than imagining what his voice sounded like when you read his letters. You had missed the feeling of home when you were around him, you had missed how the world looked when he was in it. You had missed him.
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He had been unable to sleep once he had written your letter, and unable to do anything but read in the drawing room in the hours before your arrival. He was sitting on pins and needles, waiting for the familiar sound of a knock on the front door to come so he could rush to it before any of the servants. He wanted your welcome home to be comforting, as he had known how much you had been through in France.
When he had gotten the letter explaining the marriage you had been dragged into he locked himself in his studio for weeks on end, being unreachable to anyone, even Eloise. He had spent the first two laying on the chaise, looking up at the ceiling with an unstoppable rush of tears slipping down his cheeks which only stopped when he fell into a restless sleep.
The tears turned to anger, which he let out through pages upon pages of poetry. Confessing his love, damming his foolishness or lack of words, berating himself into oblivion for why could he be so stupid as to not tell you to wait for him? To hold onto hope that he would save you?
Then the weeks of anger turned to inspiration, hours spent drowning his sadness with art. Countless paintings of you, of your favorite flowers, of the hill the both of you held so many memories upon, anything that could get him out of the depression he had been sucked into. It was the point that he was at now, a melancholic feeling lingering over his head that he refuses to let himself feel.
The knock comes right when the clock strikes twelve and he practically throws his book to the side, rushing to the door and throwing it open. You are finally home.
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The tears start before you can stop them and he quickly tugs you inside, closing the door before wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, and finally, after months of not allowing yourself to cry, you sob. You sob hard, a million pent-up emotions releasing like the snap of a string in your chest.
You look up at him through your teary eyes and smile. "I have missed you dearly, Benedict." You whisper a hidden meaning you hope he can uncover buried beneath your words. He flashes that silly crooked smile you have come to adore before ruffling your hair. "I have missed you too, Y/N. You will never know how much I missed you." He says, wiping your tears before taking a step back.
"You have grown up. You look so... mature." He comments, almost as if he is trying to figure out something about you. Something that even you cannot decipher. You smile in return. "You have as well. I believe I have the right to call you an old man now." You hum, beginning down the hall to where you know the room he has painted in his entire life is.
He chuckles from behind you, before following. "I am but eight and twenty." He whines playfully and you laugh. "That is two years away from thirty, and if Anthony is old then so are you." You opine, looking back over your shoulder at him before stopping in front of his studio's door. He grins and nudges your shoulder before opening the door for you.
You marvel at the surrounding room when you walk in. You knew that he was a good artist, it came naturally to him, but he had improved in your time away. You walk into the center of the room, walking in a slow circle to take in all of his works which line the walls and stack up upon the floor. Most are of women in various states of dress, ever the lady's man Benedict Bridgerton.
You are glad that some things do not change, but it also makes a strange feeling of longing bubble up in your chest. You wish to be naked like the women in the paintings, talking and flirting with him for hours on end. Making love to him when the heat of the room becomes too much. You wish to wake up to him beside you in the morning, for every morning for the rest of time.
You shake the feeling off and look over at him, noticing that he has already taken his place behind the easel. It looks as if he has already started his sketch. "It is gorgeous in here, Ben. You are the most talented artist in all of England." You say, a look of pure adoration in your eyes that he immediately picks up on.
You wish to die with nothing but the image of that sweet pink color that overtakes his cheeks to remember. He quickly turns his attention to his canvas and nods slightly, clearing his throat. "And you are the best flatterer in all of England. Thank you Y/N." He says quietly. When you begin to turn to face him fully he holds up his hand. "I quite liked the position you were in when you were looking over your shoulder. If it is not too uncomfortable, might you hold it? You had the most beautiful look in your eye." He says kindly, looking up to meet your eyes.
It's your turn to blush at both his kindness and his way of complimenting you. He had always said these types of things in passing, not realizing how much they affected you. You nod and take your original place in the room making him smile. "Perfect, as always." He whispers to himself before returning to the sketch.
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After about an hour and a half, your legs grow tired. "Benedict, might we take a break? My legs are getting achy." You say, and he meets your eyes. "Of course, I shall have the maids bring us some tea and you can tell me more about your time in France." He says, gesturing with his arm for you to sit on the chaise that sits by the window.
You do so gladly, taking in the image of him wiping his hands of charcoal. You blush at the thought of the feeling of those hands around your waist, or cupping your cheeks. God, this is torture. You wait for him to come back, which only takes a moment.
He sits down next to you and offers his hand. You look down at it and smile softly, taking it in your own just like you used to. What happens next, you could have never predicted in a million years. He lifts your gloved hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to speak, but you are quickly cut off by him slowly kissing up your arm.
"Benedict stop." You whisper in a tone that is a far cry away from the authority you wished for that statement to have. He doesn't, he presses kisses to your elbow, continuing to work up your arm. "Benedict, I am serious we mustn't." You say, a bit firmer as tears gather in your eyes, but he still does not relent. "Benedict!" You shout, ripping your arm away and standing up.
"Oh please." He scoffs. "Do not tell me you did not wish for me to do just that." He says, standing up with you and stepping close. "Have you gone utterly mad?! I am to be married by the end of the month!" You shout in return. You wish for nothing more than for him to continue but he cannot. You have a man to marry, a sister to set free. Nothing can come between that.
"You do not love him! You have told me those words exactly!" He shouts back and you shake your head, beginning to walk out of the room. You get all of two feet away before he grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. He leans down, his breath ghosting over your ear. "I have loved you since we were children, Y/N." Your heart shatters when he whispers the word love in your ear.
"You cannot do this now." You say, trying to tug out of his grasp but he keeps his hold tight. "I have to say it now, I have been a fool. I have kept my mouth shut for far too long, but I can save you. I can take you far away from this place, I-" He starts, but you are quick to cut in.
"How could you possibly save me, Benedict?!" You shout, finally getting away. You turn around and look at him dead in the eye, your eyes beginning to water. "By running away?! We cannot! My sister will be left to deal with that woman all by herself and then my fate will be hers! I cannot let that happen!" You shout, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I left and came back married and suddenly you gain the confidence to say this now?! It is far too late!" You sob. His face softens and he brings you into a tight embrace, one hand at the back of your head while the other runs up and down your back. "You are too late. Why did you wait?" You sob into his chest and he says nothing, allowing you to cry.
He places his chin on the top of your head as he rubs your back, rocking you from side to side. "You must think of yourself, Y/N. Your happiness. Your father left you his money for a reason, you know that." He whispers after a few minutes of listening to your sobs. You look up at him and he cups your cheek with the hand that was on your head. "Your mother, however terrifying she may be, does not hold the power over you she once did. Your father made sure of that." He continues.
"You own the estate, you have the money, and you can make your own decisions. You just need to tell her, you must be brave." He whispers as your crying calms. "But what if she... what if she does something to Lucy-" "She will not. She will not have the power to." He interrupts.
Lucy is capable, you know that much is true. You also know that he is right, you have the money and the house, and therefore you have the power. A final gift from your father that you were too scared to realize. You look up at him and before you can think twice about it, you press your lips to his.
He smiles into the kiss and pulls back after a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. "You are a fool, Benedict Bridgerton." You whisper, taking a deep breath. He chuckles. "Perhaps, but I am also a fool who wishes for nothing more than to marry you." He says and you smile. "I shall do what you suggest, what my father meant for me to do." You whisper and he nods. "And I will be right there with you." He murmurs before kissing you again.
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After an hour of warm tea and affectionate words, he takes you back to your estate. You go back and forth with your mother for an hour, trying to be kind, but it is when she starts the insults that you snap. You threaten to sell the house in France and never speak to her ever again, let alone give her any money, and she quickly shuts up.
You write Noele and the engagement is called off within the week. For once you thank the man's hatred of you, for it made him all too eager to get away. The engagement between you and Benedict is announced the next week, and the wedding is planned for two months in advance. The ton gossips about the timeline, of course, but the two of you pay no mind. You have both waited far too long to get married, why wait even longer?
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You lie restless in bed the week before your marriage, your thoughts filled with nothing but him. The kiss you shared when he confessed running through your mind, sending tingles between your legs. The hot feeling that overcomes your body makes you want to do the things you saw men and women do in the paintings that lined the walls of your favorite salon in Paris.
Sex. You knew what it was, anyone who spent more than five seconds in Paris knew what it was. You had fantasized about it before, only ever with Benedict. You wanted his hard cock buried deep inside of you for hours on end, you wanted his head between your thighs, your lips around his length. You wanted all of it, yet he had insisted on waiting until your wedding night.
You sigh, tugging on the silk sheets and rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the dull ache that settled in your core, whining in frustration when the feeling did not go away. You hear the tapping on your window, almost as if it was hailing in the middle of May.
You stand and walk to the large window that leads out to a view of the garden. A pebble hits the glass and you jump, placing a hand over your now racing heart, and look down at the garden. You grin when you find your fiance looking up at you with the crooked grin that has such a hold on your heart. You open the window and lean out.
"What on earth are you doing down there?" You laugh, leaning your elbows on the window and placing your chin on your hand. "You are meant to say something about Romeo." He calls back, his grin only widening as you giggle more. "I shall not. You must answer my question." You smile.
"You are no fun." He groans, dropping the pebbles on the ground. "I wished to see you. I have been nothing but restless tonight and I thought I would spend that restlessness with you. Might I come up?" He calls, already beginning to climb the lattice that lines the estate walls. You nod, even though he did not wait. "I am quite restless as well." You sigh, watching him climb. "You do not need to sneak, mother is already back in France and Lucy cares not of what we do." You hum as he climbs through the window.
He wraps his arms around you and picks you up. "It is more romantic to sneak through the window." He murmurs in your ear as you wrap your legs around his waist. "It was very romantic, I promise you." You whisper as he lays you back on the bed, stripping down to his trousers before sliding into bed with you and pulling the covers up over the both of you.
He nuzzles your neck and places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. It's quite an innocent gesture, but it sends that tingle you were experiencing earlier to your core. Arousal begins to dampen your panties and you press yourself against him, silently asking for more.
He smirks against your skin when you rub up against him. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. "It seems you were restless for the same reason as I was, love." He teases, which makes you blush. He chuckles and cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. "Might I request something of you?" He whispers.
"Of course." You return, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. "I wish to make love to you, now. I cannot wait one more second, and I most certainly cannot wait until our wedding night" He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin below it.
He makes a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, making you moan softly in response. "Please." Is all you can manage as he bites down on the skin of your shoulder, making sure to leave a mark. He grins and pulls back, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You return it eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. This time, a moan slips past his lips and his hands tighten around your hips.
He moves his hands down your legs, slipping them under your nightgown and cupping your breasts. You whine and break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his as you pant. He watches the look in your eye as his thumbs swipe over your hardened nipples, making your mouth fall open. He groans at the guttural moan that escapes you before taking his hands away and throwing back the covers.
"Benedict please." You breathe, grasping at his arms. He grins but shakes his head. "Patience my love. It will feel so much better if I tease you." He opines, unbuttoning his britches. You gasp when they come off, leaving him in nothing. His cock stands proud against his stomach, it is big and thick, much bigger than you imagined. You grow antsy with the fear that it will not fit inside.
He senses your apprehension and bends down, peppering your face with kisses. "Worry not, dearest, you need only to tell me to stop or to wait and I shall." He whispers, patting your hips as a signal to sit up, which you do. "I will get you plenty warmed up for me, I promise." He breathes against your skin, making you shiver.
He lifts your nightgown up and over your head, throwing it to where the rest of his clothes lay against the floor. He groans at the sight of you in nothing but your panties, his cock twitching with delight. He unties the ribbons that hold your underwear up on your hips, throwing them across the room before capturing your peaked nipple in his mouth.
Your head shoots back and you cry out, laying back on the bed. He follows, situating himself on top of you without releasing your nipple. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud as his other hand cups your other breast, his thumb and pointer finger tweaking your nipple.
Arousal drips down your thighs as you cant your hips up, desperate for more. He growls when the soft skin of your stomach meets his already weeping cock. He pulls back from your nipple, moving the hand that is not occupied with your breast down to your hips. He presses down on your hip bone and you whine when you realize you have lost your ability to brush against him.
"You are doing so well, darling. You mustn't move, it is making me want to bury my cock inside you right now and fuck you until you see stars." You moan at the thought, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him into another kiss. He grins against your mouth, letting you kiss him for a moment before pulling away and moving his hand off of your breast.
He moves that hand down to your hips, pressing down with just as much force as the other did. The one that was on your hips moves to your breast just as he takes your nipple into your mouth, giving your breasts the same treatment as before.
You are a moaning mess beneath him, your thighs and cunt soaked with your arousal as sweat drips down your neck. "Please, Ben... Need more. I... more." You whine, tugging on his hair. He lifts his head and smiles, making your heart flutter. He can go from a growling, groaning man to a loving partner in just seconds. It's intoxicating.
"Tell me where you need it, sweet girl." He whispers, kissing down your stomach and stopping just above your pubic hair, inhaling almost lewdly with a groan. You whine and your cheeks turn rosy with embarrassment.
"Between my legs..." You whisper, pressing your face into the pillow as the embarrassment of wanting him so much washes over you. He pats your thigh gently, making you look down at him. "Louder. Do not be ashamed. I want it just as much as you do." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your abdomen.
You smile softly, warmth blooming in your chest. You sigh and let out a breathy moan as he sucks on the skin just above where you wish he would. "I want you between my legs, Benedict. Please. I.. have thought of nothing else for nights." You beg, loudly now as his kisses turn sloppy.
He groans at the thought of you laying in bed, unable to sleep because of the thought of him fucking you, of him pleasing you with his fingers or your tongue, with your hand between your legs. Rubbing at your swollen clit until you come calling his name. He wishes for nothing else than to watch.
He runs his fingers through your soaked folds, the both of you moaning in unison. He rubs his nose through your patch of hair before pressing his tongue against your engorged clit, sucking and swirling as he pushes one of his long fingers into your body, making you cry out.
You silently thank God that Lucy insisted on sleeping in the room downstairs, as now you do not have to silence the steady stream of moans that slip from your lips as he sucks and fingers you into a headspace you have never been to.
You clench around his fingers as he slips another one into your tight hold, his tongue still swirling around your clit. Your hand shoots down to grab at his hair when he starts thrusting and curling his fingers into your body, the other grasping the silk sheets that rest across your bed.
You scream his name when his fingers find a spongey spot inside you that sends a bolt of pleasure right to your already abused clit, and you see stars. You gush down your thighs and his chin, and he pulls out his fingers. He peeks up from below, wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking your juices from his fingers.
The sight sends you back into a state of arousal so strong that all you can think about is his big cock ripping you open as he fills you to the hilt. He grins when he sees the look in your eye, coming back up so he can give you another open-mouthed kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he moans deeply, an almost feral noise coming from somewhere deep inside him.
He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to yours once more, kissing your nose. "Can I?" He gusts, his breath hot against your skin. "Please." You whisper back, taking one of his hands in yours, the other resting upon his shoulder.
That is all the incentive he needs, he slowly pushes into your body, groaning loudly at how tight you are. You cry out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. He bottoms out and moves his forehead to rest on your shoulder, waiting for you to adjust. God he's so close already, the thought of being the first and only one to take you enough to make him come, but he holds back.
After a moment he looks up at you and you nod, needing him to fuck you hard. That is just what he does. He sets a brutal pace, his thighs meeting yours as your ankles rest on his hips. You cry out and squeeze his hand as his tip nudges the same spot his fingers do, making you clench.
"Fuck." He grunts, picking up the pace as he chases his release. He pounds into you now, making you nothing but a moaning piece of putty ready to be molded by his hands. "Benedict- Again.. I'm going to..." You whine and he nods, pressing his lips to yours as his thumb finds your clit.
Your back arches as you reach your peak once more, dragging your nails down his back and leaving angry red marks on his skin. That is what sends him over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside of you before collapsing on top of you.
After a moment he pulls out and rolls onto his back, catching his breath before standing up and walking to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed to do the same. You rest your arms over your eyes as your breathing calms. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans up the mess he made before snuggling up to you in bed.
You flip onto your side and snuggle up to him, his arms encircling your body immediately. He presses a kiss to your forehead and traces the ridges of your spine with his fingers. "I love you." You whisper, already half asleep.
He smiles at the sight of you drowsy and flushed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. "And I love you, my heart." He whispers back, closing his eyes and quickly following you into slumber.
Oh, what a joy it is to finally feel at home.
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stariekis · 3 months
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Game over.
pairing : non idol!ni-ki + fem!reader . genre : fluff . cw : neck kisses, skinship, ni-ki being a teaser . wc : 1.9 k
— synopsis : playing games with your boyfriend ni-ki can be really funny sometimes ... at least for him.
— note : i was ripping my hair off while writing this so i really really hope you like it as much as i do <3 feedback and reposts are very much appreciated my loves ~ enjoy !
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You were in the living room scrolling through your phone in complete silence, soon ruined by the screams of your boyfriend who was playing some games in your shared room.
'He lost again' you thought, he only gets this mad whenever he loses so there is no other option really. Curiosity got the best of you so you decide to check on him just to see what made him scream like that, and also to spend some time together why not.
As you were approaching the room you could hear his voice at the other side of the door, saying things like 'how did i not see him he was right there ugh' and so on.
Opening the door slowly you were welcomed by the sign of your boyfriend sitting on his gaming chair leaning back, his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. He was also wearing gray sweatpants and one of his white tank tops. His headphones fell around his neck as soon as he heard the door open, looking directly at where you were standing.
He smiles sweetly at you, mouthing a 'come here' while patting one of his thighs. You didn't waste a second coming closer to him and sitting on his lap right after, both of his hands now resting on your thighs drawing small circles.
— 'What were you playing ?'. you said looking at his computer screen. After explaining everything to you an idea crossed his mind. — 'Babe let's make a bet, if you win a round i would clean the house for a month but if you lose you have to play with me at least once a week'. he looked so proud of his idea and actually the game seems pretty easy, a bit of help at home won't hurt either so why not. You nodded your head, taking the mouse in your hand and putting the other one on the keyboard.
You were doing pretty good actually, better than he would ever imagine considering this was the first time you played. But Riki couldn't let you win, he didn't want to clean the house at all so he took matters into his own hands and decided on distracting you, just a tiny bit.
Your concentration was anywhere to be found as soon as you felt a pair of lips kissing down your neck, his hands that were once on your things were now on your hips. You started to move around, feeling nervous and a bit ticklish because of your boyfriend's actions.
In a blink of an eye his computer screen lit up with a sign that said GAME OVER with red big letters. — 'Hey that's not fair Riki ' you said, crossing your arms and pouting after turning back to him.
He let out a chuckle, his deep voice echoed in the room, finding your reaction adorable. Giving you a quick peck on your pouty lips he said — 'Well i'm free this saturday so we can play something together, we made a bet remember'.
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mrsjellymunson · 5 months
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The Biology Tutor
📕 Lesson 1: Female Anatomy
Continue studying: Lesson 2: Male Anatomy | Lesson 3: Human Reproduction | Extra Credit 01: Communication Skills
Pairing: Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader
Summary: Eddie’s failing class, so you decide to offer two different styles of biology tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.
W/C: something around 4k (I didn’t do a word count after editing, sorry)
CW: 🔞 18+ MDNI!, NSFW, PWP, smut with a story. Exhibitionism (f), mutual masturbation (m+f), swearing, innuendo, pet names, slight sub/dom dynamic, subtle size kink? Both Reader & Eddie are overage. No y/n. Reader’s appearance is not described, it can be whatever you like.
A/N: A cute little bit of biology lesson-based smut. I’m a sucker for virgin!Eddie and wanted to see if I could write him. Let me know how I did! 😄
My masterlist
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You’ve had a crush on the guy in your Biology class since the beginning of the year when you first saw him ranting on a table in the cafeteria. There’s something about him that’s so different from the guys you’d usually go for. You run in completely different social circles, you with the academically-gifted ‘Brainy Bunch’ (an eye-rollingly terrible moniker coined by the we-think-we’re-so-clever jocks), and him with his nerdy friends. Despite this you find him unusual and intriguing, not to mention hot as all hell. You guess the ‘freak metalhead’ look doesn’t work for everyone, but his long hair and rebellious dark ink are certainly doing it for you. You really want to discover what’s underneath those layers of denim, leather and torn shirts, your imagination only able to go so far as you ponder his form late at night in your bed.
However, girls talk, and you’ve never heard of him being with any of them, or even speaking to all that many. For all his bravado and apparent confidence, you’re reasonably certain that Eddie Munson is still a virgin.
And for some reason this draws you to him even more.
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You’re pretty sure you’ve caught Eddie checking out your ass as it’s perched on a high stool while he sits behind you in the biology lab. On days when you’re in this class you’ve started to wear your tightest jeans, and your shortest skirts (though if anyone asked you’d insist it was a coincidence).
Somehow you’ve become inexplicably clumsy (but only in this class, how odd…), often dropping your pencil and having to bend over to pick it up, occasionally chewing on the end in contemplation when you know he’s watching, much to the chagrin of your teacher.
“Never put anything in your mouth in the lab, you should all know better by now.”
You smirk at the innuendo in Eddie’s direction and he quickly looks away, ears exposed by his lab-regulation tied-back hair a little pink at the tips.
You also often ‘forget’ or ‘lose’ equipment, asking him if he’s got a spare, or could he please get you a replacement from the cupboards, which he’s always more than willing to do (giving you ample opportunities to observe his denim-clad ass as he does so).
“Damn, I seem to be one test tube short. Eddie, would you be a doll and get me one from the cupboard?”, crossing your legs and subtly ensuring the hem of your skirt rides up just a little more.
Eddie looks you up and down (result!) and agrees.
“Thanks, you really are my knight in shiny, um, leather?” You wince slightly at your clumsy comment, but he takes it in his stride, continuing the bit by replying,
“Here you go, your majesty”, bowing theatrically and presenting the glassware to you atop his forearm, making you grin.
In another lesson: “Shit, I tore my filter. Eddie, do you have a spare?”
“Anything for the Princess of Biology.”
He gives you a little smirk, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly. You can’t help gazing at his strong, ring-clad hands as he hands you the little circle of absorbent paper.
It becomes somewhat of a game, you playing the Princess and he the rescuing knight.
But for all your teasing you genuinely do actually want to help him pass the class. You don’t want him to have to repeat the year - you’ve seen him play at The Hideout and you know he’s meant for greater things.
It’s just biology, it can’t be any harder than what little you’ve picked up about that complicated game he plays, which seems to be all numbers, convoluted plots and organising “campaigns”, whatever they are. You’re sure he could pass if he’d just apply himself.
Or, perhaps, he just needs the right tutor…?
You’d broached it with your science teacher, offering to help ‘any students who were behind’ for extra credits. After he’d agreed you’d approached Eddie that same day, offering to come to his home and help him with his overdue assignments.
He was confused and skeptical at first, thinking this could all be some elaborate prank, but you were gentle and persuasive, and he’d agreed to pick you up later that day.
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You’re sitting on his worn-out sofa, draped with a well loved but soft blanket. You’ve spent the last hour trying to get Eddie to understand cellular respiration (“Isn’t it just, like, breathing in and out?” “No, Eddie, this is cell biochemistry, it’s a bit more complicated than that”), but nothing you attempt seems to be working.
He’s despondent, won’t look at you, and seems resigned to his fate of never passing this particular subject, interjecting with statements like,
“Look, it’s just not going in.”
“I don’t know how to make it stick.”
“I don’t think I’ll get it, Princess, even if you beat it into me.”
The innuendo (accidental or not) is driving you crazy. As is Eddie’s lack of self belief.
You’d even tried explaining it by using D&D analogies.
“Think of the chemical reactions like individual characters interacting in groups. Like, if this particular troupe disband and some make allegiances with another, the group has different skills and attributes now, right?” But after a promising start even that doesn’t seem to hold his attention.
In fact, the more animated you get and closer you sit, the more distracted and fidgety he becomes, unwilling to engage fully with you and shifting uncomfortably.
You move further towards him on the sofa, determined to give it one last shot, and force him to make eye contact with you.
Their colour and depth surprises you as you look into them properly for the first time, noticing their rich, swirling chocolate and whiskey hues.
Your eyes briefly drop to his lips, the soft pink, plump, velvety pillows looking mightily enticing. God, they’re perfect.
Goosebumps rise on your arm as you feel his surprisingly soft curls tickle your shoulder.
Okay, you knew he was cute, but up close? Fucking hell…
You lean across your notes and over to the text book that’s on his other side. Your thighs are touching, and as you twist the side of your breast makes contact with his arm. If he looked slightly down and towards you he’d be able to see right down the neck of your tank top. You kind of hope he does.
Huffing, you prod at the book with your hand, hoping that the diagram on the page might make everything clearer. The movement makes your boobs jiggle a little.
You hadn’t noticed he’d stopped breathing and he suddenly lets out a huff of breath, covering it with a badly faked cough. His cheeks have flushed a light shade of pink.
So, you definitely weren’t imagining all that stuff in class.
Fuck it. You consider this might be the only opportunity you might get to do this, so decide to grab it. After all, academic tutelage was only part of your motivation to get him alone, and something you’ve been thinking about for a long time, one of the fantasies that keeps you up at night, pops into your head. One that would definitely get his attention. And if you can’t help his confidence academically, perhaps you can help with it somewhere else. Call it interpersonal tutelage…?
With as much nonchalance as you can muster, you say, “Um, maybe we should take a break. Y’know, relax a little?”
You scootch away to the end of the sofa, putting your back against the armrest and bringing your feet up onto the cushion in front of you. You grab a couple of throw cushions and slot them behind you, getting comfortable.
Eddie seems to relax a little too once you’ve moved away, but still looks uneasy.
God, are you really going to do this? What if he screams and runs away, or worse, tells his friends, or your classmates..? No, you’ve been thinking about this for far too long. Oh, fuck it x 2…
Feigning a stretch, you arch your back and place your hands at the back of your waist, pushing your chest, and breasts, upwards. Then you move them to the sides of your ribs, glancing over the sides of your boobs, seemingly-innocently pushing them together. You move a hand underneath one of your breasts, cupping it gently in the crook of your thumb and forefinger.
Eddie is still sitting tensely on the front edge of the sofa cushions, stealing sideways glances at you through the curtain of his hair.
“C’mon, Eddie, get comfy with me. It’ll help, I promise.”
Self-consciously, Eddie shifts himself and sits facing you, cross-legged, at the other end of the sofa. You give him a soft smile, which he returns with a slightly bashful one of his own, afterwards rolling his lips inwards between his teeth.
Okay, it’s now or never. Are you gonna be able to concentrate on this, Eddie?
You hum quietly, and almost closing your eyes you run a palm down your chest and over your belly. You drop one knee slightly out to the side, and run your hand down the inside of your thigh and back up it, eventually pushing your fingers between your thighs and cupping your mound with your palm.
You see Eddie’s eyes widen and hear a stifled choke.
Your hand moves to fully cup your breast, and you lightly trace your thumb over your hardening nipple whilst the hand between your legs begins to apply gentle pressure, making you inhale deeply.
Eddie watches you, agape, bringing his hands together and clasping one hand over the other in front of him, you surmise to disguise his burgeoning bulge.
You open your eyes a little, keeping them soft and half lidded, and gently smile in Eddie’s direction, ensuring he’s still watching you.
Using both hands to pop the button and lower the zipper on your jeans, you tease yourself by running the pretty elastic trim of your your panties between your fingertips, pulling it slightly away from you and letting it snap back onto your abdomen.
“Uh…”, he swallows hard, and you internally groan at the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing in that delicious neck, “What’re you doing..?”
“What does it look like I’m doing, Eddie? I’m… relaxing…”
Sighing out the last word, you choose this moment to slip your hand down the front of your underwear, sliding over your mound and dipping just the tip of one finger between your folds, feeling the wetness that’s already pooled there. Your forehead furrows a little and you let out a quiet, contented hum.
Eddie’s eyes widen further and his eyebrows disappear completely under his bangs, and he sounds a little like he’s suffocating.
He tries to move further away from you along the sofa, unsuccessfully however as he’s wedged against the other armrest.
“Uh, I can, y’know, leave, or you could use my room, or, I can take you home, or, or-”
He’s babbling, and looking everywhere but at you. That’s not what you want at all, and you’re also concerned that he looks so uncomfortable.
“I can stop, if you want…”
He rushes out a reply, almost shouting the first syllable.
“N-NO! Um, no, it’s okay, really.”
“Okay, Eddie, stay right there. Keep your eyes on me, I wanna give you a show.”
He looks even more shocked, jaw dropping open, and you think he might bolt. But after a moment it’s clear that despite being full of anxiety, fear and self-consciousness, his curiosity, hormones and horniness are winning out, and he fixes his gaze on you.
He manages to squeak out, “Ok-aay…”
You lift your hips, using both hands to push your jeans and underwear down your legs until they reach your ankles. You slowly splay your knees, finally exposing yourself fully to Eddie’s gaze. One hand comes back to your breast, and you pinch your fabric-covered nipple between your thumb and forefinger.
He takes in the sight before him, the soft fur around your core, your wet folds glistening in the dim light of his living room, your sultry gaze, the peaks of your hardened nipples now visible through the thin fabric of your top.
He lets out a stuttering breath as his hips involuntarily shift underneath him, trying to find some friction.
“Jeezus fuck, Princess, are you tryin’a kill me?”
You try to think of something that might help relax him.
“If it helps you can imagine that we’re still studying. How about a quick lesson in female anatomy..?”
You move your hand down and with featherlight touches trace your fingertips around your pussy.
“Now, this whole area is my vulva.”
Eddie gulps.
Making a vertical line you trace your fingers over your wet lips.
“These are my labia.”
Eddie’s lips press together and he lets out a stammering hum, closing his eyes momentarily before snapping them back open so he doesn’t miss a thing.
“Are you paying attention, Eddie? This part is really important. This-,” you inhale sharply as you trail your wet fingers upwards and make contact, “This is where you’ll find my clit- fuck-”
It feels so delicious you almost don’t manage to finish your sentence, and you let out a long, low hum. Part of you doesn’t want to stop, but you’ve got more planned. Moving your fingers down again, you say,
“And this, here? This is my vagina…”
With a smile, you watch him stare as you dip a fingertip into your sopping hole, letting out a low moan as you gradually slip it inside of you.
“You know what the g-spot is, Eddie? I can show you where to find it, if you want me to…?”
You slide your finger in further, curling it towards your front wall, almost managing to tickle that certain spot within and letting out a loud groan.
At the other end of the sofa Eddie gasps an inhale, whimpering slightly, and you see him press the heel of his hand into his crotch. The combination of his sounds and actions is making you impossibly wetter - the boys you’ve been with before didn’t do much of either, and you didn’t know how much it turned you on.
You watch his face as he stares intently at your weeping centre as you slowly, so slowly move your finger in and out a few times.
“D’you think you’ll remember that, Eddie?”
“I promise I’ll fuckin’ try, Jesus Christ…”
He swallows again, exhaling heavily.
Deciding it’s time for the main event, you bring the hand that was squeezing your breast down your body, moving your fingertips to your clit and applying gentle pressure.
“I want you to see how wet you make me, Eddie. I want you to know how much I enjoy you watching my ass in biology class, how often I’ve thought about it when I’m alone. How much I like checking yours out in those oh-so tight jean- oh!”
A particularly exquisite circle followed by a firm press on your clit makes you moan out loud. The combination of both your hands has you close, closer than you imagined you’d be at this stage. It takes much longer when you’re by yourself, and you’re surprised and excited by just how much you’re enjoying having Eddie watch you.
Eddie’s fully gripping himself through his jeans now and is breathing heavily through his nose. He looks big, and you salivate at the thought.
You really want to see what he’s been hiding inside that tight denim.
“Show me, Eddie, I wanna see you.”
Hesitantly, never having experienced anything even close to this before, Eddie mumbles,
“You, uh…?”
“I wanna see you. Take out your cock. Let me see all of you, please.”
He’s rubbing himself, and you can see how strained his jeans are, a wet stain now visible in the dark fabric.
Slowly, eyes never leaving your face and looking for any tiny indication that you’re uncomfortable or have changed your mind, he slowly undoes his button and pulls down his zipper.
His languid pace is killing you, but in a good way; you realise he most likely has no idea what this is doing to you.
He rearranges the front of his jeans, opening the fly wide and leaving nothing but a thin layer of checkered cotton covering his member. The tent it’s creating is impressive.
He watches you stare and run your wet tongue over your bottom lip.
Letting out a nervous breath between pursed lips, he pushes one hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, using his thumb and two fingers to hold his cock at the base. Using his other hand he slowly, agonisingly slowly, pulls the fabric out and downwards, gradually exposing his full member to the lights of the room and to you.
You pause your own movements and spend a moment taking it in. It’s long, with an impressive girth - you briefly wonder whether he knows what he’s packing - and it’s the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. Lengthy, veined, slightly curved, and thick, so thick.
Eddie watches your expression for a moment. Satisfied that you’re not freaked or about to run away screaming, he brings the rest of his fingers to join the others, wrapping himself fully in his fist and squeezing gently, causing a little bead of precum to collect on the tip.
You take in the sight before you for a few moments, then utter, completely honestly, “Eddie, in case no one’s ever told you this, you have a really beautiful dick.”
His face and neck turn the second-prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen.
“No one’s ever told me that before, Princess.” Adding, almost in a whisper, “In fact, no one’s ever seen it.”
He chuckles lightly through that last sentence, embarrassed at what he’s just admitted. The ego boost of your comments has clearly given him some confidence though, as he adds with a slight smirk, a little breathy as he runs the pad of his thumb unhurriedly over his tip, “You, uh, really think so?”
Oh, so he likes me watching him too?
You can’t take your eyes off of it.
“I really do, Eddie. It’s so pretty.”
As if to confirm your statement you resume your hand movements, adding another finger and resuming circling your clit with the other. You notice that Eddie’s started moving too, his hand moving over himself in a deft gripping and twisting motion, his hips bucking up every now and again.
For a few moments neither of you say anything, the only sounds in the room your combined panting breaths and the lewd movements of wet skin.
Your clit is swollen and supremely sensitive, and, pushing in a little further, your fingers just tickle that exquisite spot within you.
You moan as you imagine it’s Eddie’s pretty cock inside you. That he’s leaning over you, thrusting into you, hitting that spot effortlessly. Maybe even talking to you, telling you how good your pussy feels, how well you’re taking him…
Suddenly your eyes roll back in your head and your mouth hangs open, a gutteral moan emerging from your chest as you get closer and closer.
Bringing your attention back to him you mumble, hurriedly,
“Jeezus Eddie, I’m gonna cum, you wanna see me cum?”
“Fuck, sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire fucking life.”
Eddie’s words come out in a spluttering rush and on his last word your breathing halts, your muscles lock and you cum, hard, clenching around your fingers and letting out an involuntary strangled scream.
Somewhere in the back of your fuzzy mind you think you hear Eddie let out a loud, “Holy shhhiiiit!”
You come down a little, opening your eyes and locking them with Eddie’s. You ride out your aftershocks, humming as you feel your fingers inside of you and your juices running down them. You eventually remove your fingers from your cunt, leaving its puffy wetness fully on display, and trace them around your lips and clit.
“F-fuck, Princess, that’s the hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen…”
Eddie’s red-faced and panting, his cock still very much standing to attention in his now vice-like grip, the tip an angry red and leaking copious amounts of precum. His eyes are blown dark, the chocolate rims almost completely obscured. His face and neck are flushed and he’s covered in a sheen of sweat, and he’s clenching his jaw, looking like he’s trying desperately not to bust.
“Are you ok over there, Eddie?”
“Shit, yeah, yes, I mean, fuck.”
Breathily, you ask him,
“Do you wanna cum?”
“Fuck yes, I just, I didn’t know whether you wanted me to.”
“Oh I do Eddie, I really do. It’s your turn now. You gonna cum for me? Please, let me see you lose it, show me everything you’ve got.”
He breathes out a loud sigh in what seems like relief. You like how good he’s being for you, learning yet more about yourself that you didn’t know before.
His fist speeds up as his other hand comes to hold his balls, deftly stroking and rolling the flesh. His brow furrows deeply and his lips clamp shut around a low moan. He’s staring intently at you, eyes flicking between your face and your still-dripping cunt.
Suddenly his expression turns to one resembling surprise, as his eyebrows lift and his mouth opens, a string of expletives leaving those perfect, plump lips,
“Fuck, fuck, Jeezus, motherf-, oh my-, fuckfuckfuuuck!”
His jaw drops as his abdomen contracts, and his eyes fix on your cunt as he jets hot ropes of white cum into the air and over his fist and t-shirt. There’s so much, and it seems never ending.
The sight is even better than you’d imagined it might be and your hips buck up into your hand, making you press your fingers into your clit again triggering another aftershock, and you find yourself moaning along with him.
For a few moments there’s more silence, aside from your panting and heavy breathing.
Eventually Eddie chuckles a little, and you huff a breath out through your nose with a smile on your face.
You’re both a sweaty, sticky mess, but neither of you care.
“Fuck, Eddie, that was…” You’re lost for words.
“Amazing? Incredible?” Seeing the grin plastered across Eddie’s face is easily as gratifying as all the other stuff you’ve done tonight.
You both giggle as Eddie says, “Fuck me, Princess, you’re definitely the best tutor I’ve ever had.”
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Neither of you really want to move, but some cleanup is definitely necessary. Eddie takes the blanket from the sofa and throws it in the washer, cleaning up quickly in the bathroom, letting you know when it’s free and returning in a change of clothes, throwing the others in with the blanket.
As you both process what’s just transpired you share timid glances and half smiles.
You both sit on the sofa again as you start to pack up your notes and books. In another unforeseen realisation, you’re surprised at how much you’ve enjoyed Eddie’s company, and the warm feeling you get inside every time he looks at you is entirely unexpected.
You realise you’re gonna have to be the one to say something, and give Eddie a smirk.
“So, how about next time we do some practical revision on, maybe, male anatomy?”
He looks a little surprised, but certainly not unhappy at the suggestion that there might actually be a ‘next time’.
“You really wanna, uh, tutor me again?”
Nodding in the affirmative, you reply, “Oh yeah, I think we’ve both learned a lot this afternoon.”
Holding his gaze, you suggest,
“Same time next week..?”
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Continue studying with Lesson 2: Male anatomy
A/N 2: I’ve been having thoughts about making this a miniseries, so please let me know if you’d like to see a second “lesson” 😉
Thanks so much for reading!
Likes are great, but please also consider supporting writers with comments and reblogs - they help fics get seen, and it genuinely means the world! 🌍 ❤️
Taglist is open!
My masterlist
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signedkoko · 4 months
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Hello! I just found your blog and oh my god I’m obsessed and I’ve read everything
Can I request some fluffy lucifer and Lilith x fem reader who’s really sweet and ultra feminine? Like 9/10 she’s always wearing a dress or a skirt long or short doesn’t matter, loves doing her makeup and doing her hair? and puts hella effort into her appearance on the daily not for her husband and wife but just for herself and because she can?
Lucifer X Reader X Lilith [Comfort]
In which you're as feminine as they come, and both Lucifer and Lilith adore that trait in you.
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Lilith likes having you around, because since Charlie grew up theres been a bit of a hole of girl time in her schedule
Being able to give you advice and go to only the best spas in hell, leaving Lucifer behind to enjoy some company time
One of the best parts is when you do her makeup, she always does yours because she was trained from her dancer days, but when you do hers its so gentle
Telling her the purpose of each tool even if she's heard it a million times, each colour and shade, and the small peck you give her when you're done
Lilith is especially amazing with hair, and after helping you doll yourself up for the day its nice to get a good thirty minutes in just stroking through your well maintained hair and decide what'd frame your outfit best
Sometimes when she does your lipstick, she puts it on her and kisses it onto you to give it what she calls 'a faded makeout session look'
Well, it looks good, so who are you to complain
On the other hand, Lucifer is big on fashion and always makes sure he looks like he is making a statement, so he always bring syou back clothes which he has a tailor fix to your exact curve
He always tries to match with you but Lilith tells him off because she doesnt want you to match whatever santa clause aesthetic he has going on
The public loves you, marked as the newest and hottest addition tot heir relationship, which they encourage and tell you about
Lilith will bring you to her magazine shoots and insist only you can style her makeup and hair, though unfortunately they always draw the line at clothes
She thinks you'd dress her better than whatever they do
Charlie is also happy you wormed your way into their hearts, because you are a lot less intensive than her biological parents, and she appreciates how much you visit her
When you suggest Charlie join you and Lilith for some getaways, they both love the idea, so now you get some mothers to daughter time
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Author's Note - Back to writing I am actually writing from the airport atm because I am heading back home for christmas! I will have a ton of time to write during that time, since I have now wrapped up my exams. Lucky me! I am 3 pina coladas in and ready for takeoff 🛫
Ayyways, thank you for requesting these two, I actually love poly with them so much and there is not enough of it out there (I would know, I read it all), so I hope I met your expectations 🖤
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illustromic · 1 year
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My thoughts on drawing wings (an unofficial tutorial)
Do you want to get better at drawing your favorite winged character? Do you have winged OCs? Just want to learn something new? I can't promise this post will help, but maybe it'll give you some helpful tips.
I know, I knowww, wing tutorials have been done to death. I don't care. This was initially inspired by a conversation on twitter, but actually I've wanted to write down my notes on the topic for a long time lol. Basically wings are one of my special interests so it's very important, for me, to draw them both nicely and also realistically.
On that note, let me first show you my resume *distant sound of floodgates opening*
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Like what you see? Read on! (Oh, and I will only be covering feathered/avian wings bc those are the type I know best.)
Now, I'm not here to give you a step-by-step guide on wing anatomy and aerodynamics, because there are plenty of other resources that cover this already, and I'll list my faves at the end of the post. Right now, I'm going to give you some easy guidelines and tricks that I wish more artists knew.
1: Wings do, in fact, have bones (crazy, I know) and are actually very rigid because they have to support the weight of a living creature. There are some positions you cannot physically force a wing into irl.
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2: Flight feathers are not placed willy-nilly on the wing, because then they wouldn't catch the air properly. Again, like the bones, they are rigid and strong, so don't draw them like fur or ribbons. All wings have the same pattern of feather placement, with slight variation depending on species. If you learn the feather sections, it will automatically improve your drawings a lot.
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2.5: Feathers overlap each other like a handful of playing cards, and this looks different depending on which side of the wing you're drawing. They always do this unless they're extremely untidy.
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3: The size of the wingspan is important if you're going for a more realistic design. There is no "scientifically accurate" measurement when it comes to fictional creatures, but my general rule is when in doubt, you probably need to make them bigger. Personally, for my original winged human species, I give them wings that can be up to 12 feet long each (the artistic sacrifice is that it's really hard to fit the wings on the dang page lmao, so make your own call).
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4: Get used to drawing folded wings. Most of the time, birds keep their wings folded because it prevents them from getting damaged and it conserves energy. The trick is to get good at visualizing how the joints bend and overlap (look at plenty of photos!) In general, they can fold much tighter than you think.
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5: Wings and feathers take a lot of patience to draw, but the results are worth it. I've seen so so many incredibly beautiful and skillful artworks that are---well, maybe not ruined, but still negatively affected by a pair of wings that look like an afterthought, or not even like wings at all. You have no idea how much a little extra time and practice will add to your work until you see for yourself.
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Finally, some notes on "stylized" wings: Of course it's perfectly ok to draw more simplified/cartoony wings if that's your preference!! BUT there is a difference between a stylistic choice and a lack of effort/poor understanding of the subject matter. Even cartoonists have to learn the fundamentals of realism so they know how to make their designs logical and appealing. Here are some examples of more stylized wings that I feel retain the core principles of anatomy/aesthetics:
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And last but not least: A list of helpful links I use personally for reference and inspiration!
I made this pinterest board for general artsy inspo, and this board to curate my very favorite tutorials/refs/information, focusing on the scientific aspect of wings and flight in general. Feel free to use both! (I also suggest pinterest in general for pose refs and such, but try to only practice using photos at first and not other drawings.)
I highly recommend this blog and this blog if you want examples of artists who draw more realism-based winged creatures!! They are both huge inspirations for me and I think you should totally follow them even if you don't plan to draw wings lol <3
If you're REALLY serious about it, my favorite ref books are: Winged Fantasy, a lovely drawing book by Brenda Lyons; Proctor & Lynch's Manual of Ornithology; and Angelus vincens by R. Spano, which is essentially an artbook by someone who (I believe) designed biologically plausible "angels" for their senior thesis.
Ok, idk how to end this lol but I hope it helped! I know it's not my normal kind of post but I'm super busy with college stuff rn and this was all I had time for. If you guys have any questions or feedback, please let me know!!!
-Aloe <3
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rreids · 7 days
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hey, i was wondering if you'd be able to write smth with Spencer in a relationship with someone with bpd? it's totally okay if you're not comfy with that, but I've just been suspecting i may have it, and ppl with bpd are always portrayed so negatively in relationships. it would be just rly nice to read ur take on how Spencer would handle that and just see some positive representation! (my mental health has also been shit so it would be p comforting lol) thank u 🫶
hi love 🫶 i don't know a ton about bpd, so i hope i did this justice! i researched the diagnosis and how healthy relationships help with regulation and in what ways they do (both accounts from experts and from those who are diagnosed). and i hope you feel better soon <3 it sucks when your mind fights against you.
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PROMISES • S. REID X READER
reader has bpd (written by an author without, ideally will be comforting rather than hurtful. please let me know if it is offensive in any way); gn!reader; spencer has to break a small promise but makes others; talks of therapy; teasing; fluff; ~500 words
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“Hey, sweetheart,” Spencer whispers into the phone, voice a little strained. “I’m really, really sorry, but I can’t make lunch today. We’re on the way to a case in Omaha. It’s a really bad one.”
Your heart sinks. “Oh.”
“You know I want to be there more than anything, right?” He’s shuffling papers in the background, and you know they’re in the middle of getting ready on the jet and that he’s still making time for you, but it still makes your mind race with worry and upset. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week. And I promise I’ll take you out as soon as we’re back.”
You frown, fiddling with the promise ring on your finger. “Will you still talk to me?”
Spencer chuckles. “I think I go insane when I go too long without hearing your voice. As long as you don’t mind calls when it’s two a.m. there, I’m calling before bed every night I have enough time.”
You sigh.
“I know, honey. When’s your next meeting with your therapist?”
“Tomorrow,” you mumble, gnawing on your lip.
“Well, you have permission to talk about how much I suck,” Spencer teases lightly. “As long as you know it’s not by choice that I’m being a bad boyfriend.”
“You’re not a bad boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” You can hear the smile in his voice.
“You’re the best boyfriend. You understand me.” He does. He’s looked into BPD extensively — he knows even more than you do, rattling off statistics, assumed causes and connections, coping methods, everything. He knows how to break you out of the spirals and to calm your impulsivities.
“You have other boyfriends?” Spencer sighs dramatically, and you laugh.
“Why would I have them? You’re more than enough.”
Spencer hums. “I am, aren’t I?” 
You groan.
“I’m messing with you,” his voice is fond and soft. “I gotta hang up, everyone’s coming and we need all our focus on this case. Message me if you need anything. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“You don’t do anything,” you know you’re exaggerating, but it’s hard to stop the words.
“I do, just nothing out of our normal,” he’s nudging you gently, reminding you to think things through before acting impulsively. “I give you permission to watch our show without me if it’ll keep you entertained.”
You laugh. “Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll be good,” you draw it out.
Spencer snorts. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Spence.”
A beat.
“I’m not actually going to talk shit about you to my therapist, just so you know. I do talk about you though.”
And then you hang up. 
He sends you a ‘???’ and a ‘I wanted to say something still.’ right after. When you tell him to say it, he sends a ‘Do what you need to feel regulated. I don’t take it to heart, you know I don’t.’
And he doesn’t. He’s so sweet, so achingly perfect, understanding of when your moods swing, or when you feel empty, or whenever anything changes and you can’t tell why. 
And he always helps you down, kissing scars and tears and whispering praise as he gets you to feel right again.
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twstreverie · 1 year
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sun and moon — 🌙 ☀️
sun/moon like s/o (kalim, jamil, rook, malleus) 🫶🏼
this idea kinda just happened, also because “o sol e a lua” is stuck in my head… I might do others with this <3
requests are open!
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kalim al-asim
he adores you, to simply put it. he doesn’t mind one bit that you have more of an introverted nature — he balances that out. even if you don’t have the energy to go to one of his dorms feasts and parties he wouldn’t care. kalim is content with just you and him if that’s what you really wanted. he’ll take you on a carpet ride any night!
it’s a little funny to watch, but he’s sometimes you’re voice — since you’re quieter or don’t speak up and talk loud as much. you’ll hear him at least once or twice a day being like “oh they said—!”
the victories and celebrations that go off in his mind during the earlier parts of your relationship like when you started to laugh loudly around him or even when he hears you excitedly sharing something you like to him. he loves it all!
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jamil viper
he hates to admit it but you sometimes make him feel so flustered and overwhelmed (in the best way) when it comes to your loud boasting of how much you love him or that instant “hey!!!” he hears the moment you see him. he has to pull down his hood a little sometimes jamil cant fight the warmth spreading on his cheeks. he’ll sigh and try telling you there’s no need for the energy (right in the middle of the school hallways ahaha) but does he actually want you to stop?
jamil tends to just let you ramble a lot, he’s a silent listener, giving once in a while a thought or two. not that he’s ignoring you he just doesn’t have the energy to talk sometimes — he’s content just doing work or even cooking and just listening to you go on.
has caught multiple times both overhearing and being told by others of your praise and talking highly of him — jamil was caught totally off guard when he had heard the first time. however by this point he isn’t surprised at all. I would be lying though if I said there wasn’t a smug grin after hearing.
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rook hunt
rook is obsessed with you. sorry but he will be telling you an earful of his swooning and how much he is simply enamored by you. though you have no magic he claims that you’ve bewitched him.
I can just imagine you could just be sitting there reading and eating something during lunch silently. you could be doing basically nothing and look over and see rook with his head on his hand looking at you with heart eyes.
though he does most of the talking at times, he doesn’t mind. but I have to say at first it might’ve been a bit overwhelming with his nature for someone like you. at the same time, he can be very quiet when he wants to be, so you get both haha. he’ll even do stuff like write you letters and poetry (they’ve gotten pretty long), flowers, and from what I believe he is artistic you better believe he paints and draws you. you’re his muse.
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malleus draconia
he utterly loves your affection, though he was initially surprised by your boldness but he could only lightly chuckle at you and your behavior. he indulges it anyway, he wants you to do this stuff. sebek definitely had a hard time having to deal with seeing you happily hug and kiss him whenever — even touching his horns! (he could’ve passed OUT)
not gonna lie malleus wants your attention and stuff anyway so like this is perfect for him — that both before your relationship and now that you’re so eager to be with him and such. because trust me, you’re his first and only, he just wants to spend his time with you. he is simply content basking in it, obviously.
he kinda just lets you drag him wherever and do what you want, he’ll follow you. but he would love something more quiet at times to, like during your nightly strolls when he sees you trying to follow and see some pretty creature or even small fairies you see time to time.
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chubs-deuce · 21 days
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I absolutely adore your art style! It's so beautiful and soft looking! And your Design for Dawn is so so GOOD omg you really did such an amazing job of giving her features of both parents while also still standing out as her own strong character design
I also love your interpretation of Alastor as a father, I feel like I've seen so much of him being like, a shitty dad (and while yeah I could see him being a bad dad, It hurts me because I have a need for soft domestic family fluff 😭) and I just love your take on him!
Bad guys w/ a daughter they're soft for is my bread and butter and UGH your art of them just makes me smile so much because it's SO GOOD
(like the one with him and her having a tea party akayjdgdjwhshe ❤️❤️❤️❤️ like I could just imagine her pulling him by his hand away from something important he was doing and telling him he's been invited and he CANNOT be late and he just rolls with it or something lol)
And the other art you did of Vaggie helping her to learn how to walk and Angel wearing cool sunglasses with her. I can't. Too cute.
But yeah! I just wanted to say thank you for sharing your wonderful art/Headcanons with us :D
And I was also wondering, do you mind if people draw fanart of Dawn? Full credit given, of course.
(also sorry this message got a little all over the place 😅)
lkjsdjkfgsöldkjfgsödlkjgösdfkjgs
omg thank you so much for this?!??! This made me so emo to read omg,, ;w;
I'm so glad you like what I put out about her!!! And I agree!! Soo many people make Al this cold and distant father and like.. I understand where they're coming from, but I personally just can't see him deny an innocent little girl her whims, even more so when it's his own flesh and blood :'3
And imo the whole hotel would pitch in when it comes to raising her so it only made sense to draw other members of the cast interacting with her too :D
ALSO I'D BE DEEPLY HONORED ABOUT ANYONE LIKING HER ENOUGH TO DRAW HER!!!
This goes for any of my OCs tbh!! I never expect anyone to, but it absolutely makes my day when I get to see other people give my characters love in the form of art like that!
Thank you so much for this lovely ask <3<3<3
Have Dawn discovering that her shadow is sentient and putting it to use for shenanigans :'D
(she doesn't yet know that it can deform and strech along walls, she just treats it like kind of a secret buddy until she has better control over it)
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Normally a shadow entity like this must be bound via contract, but since Alastor offered up one of his lesser minions during her creation ritual, it reformed as an extension of her! I realized I never established this before so have it as bonus lore I guess xD
Again thank you so much for taking the time to write me something so lovely <3
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herrscherofinsanity · 6 months
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Anything for you
Summary: Nayeon would do anything for her girlfriend, even getting over some of her biggest pet peeves.
Fluff
Im Nayeon x fem!reader
Word count: 1.4k
A/N: This is me being kinda back. In honor of Twice's 8th anniversary I wanted to write something for my ultimate bias; I'll be back simping for the aespa girls soon, I have lots of ideas... I just need to find time to write them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and also thank you for reading!
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“Hey can you pause the movie for a second? I really need to go to the bathroom”, Momo whined as she got up from the couch making the other girls groan.
“You always do this!”
“It was just getting to the good part!”
“Can we kick her out?”
“Is one night of peace and quiet too much to ask?”
You chuckled, watching the chaos unfold; a warm feeling spreading through your chest when you felt your girlfriend’s arms wrapping around your waist in a tight hold. You turned your head towards her, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.
“You find this amusing?” Nayeon whispered, not wanting to draw unwanted attention towards the two of you.
“I do” you whispered back, a playful grin on your lips, “you girls have quite the bond, I’m jealous”.
“There’s no need to be jealous, babe” she said, kissing your cheek “you’re my favorite anyway”.
Before you could reply, another voice cut you off. “What do you mean she’s your favorite?!” Chaeyoung complained, wanting more drama to unfold.
“Jihyo, the couple is being annoying… again”, Tzuyu said.
“Oh, leave them alone” Sana said, your girlfriend sent her a grateful smile, but Sana’s sentence wasn’t over yet. “Nayeon can’t help the fact that she’s whipped”.
The members laughed, teasing the two of you relentlessly. Your girlfriend shot you a defeated look, so much for spending a relaxing time together without any interruptions.
“What are we talking about?”, Momo asked as she made her way back from the bathroom.
“Nayeon being stupidly in love with y/n” Jeongyeon replied nonchalantly; your girlfriend silently sulked behind you.
“If you don’t mind, can I ask you two something?”, Mina looked towards you, a curious expression on her face.
You sent her a gentle smile, encouraging her to ask her question.
“When did you realize you were in love with each other?”.
An innocent question, but you felt as if you were about to go into cardiac arrest with the way your heart dropped. Nayeon wasn’t that far behind you, she felt as if the living room started spinning. On the other hand, both of your reactions left the girls feeling clueless. Why were you being so awkward? Surely you two had already… wait.
“W-well, we haven’t-” Nayeon began.
“Actually, I know the answer to that question!” Jihyo exclaimed, a dangerous gleam in her eyes.
“What could you possibly be talking about?” Nayeon hissed, shooting her fellow member a suspicious look; the whole interaction caught your attention.
“I would also like to know” you cleared your throat “…please”.
Nayeon looked at you with what you could only describe as pure panic, “baby, I really don’t think-”.
“Jihyo! What are you stalling for?” Jeongyeon exclaimed.
“Yeah! Go ahead and tell us!”
“Okay!” Jihyo exclaimed, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Gather ‘round kids! This is the story of how I realized Nayeon was without a doubt, head over heels in love with y/n!”.
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Two months ago.
"You can't be serious".
"I swear! They kept calling us 'wig group', Sana was about ready to lose it" your girlfriend, Nayeon said, her tone full of amusement.
You laughed at her story, not fully believing it, but still amused by how creative her fans could be.
Im Nayeon, better known as Twice’s Nayeon, but to you she simply was Nayeon; the same girl who nervously asked you to be her girlfriend 3 months ago.
You two were introduced by your mutual friend, Yeri who had spent weeks going on and on about how she knew the perfect person for you to go out with.  You were incredibly hesitant, but you eventually caved and agreed to give Yeri’s friend a chance.
Nayeon surprised you in the best of ways; after your first date, you couldn’t help but agree with Yeri, she really was the perfect person for you. The loud girl carved a permanent place in your heart for herself and nothing could come between the two of you; not the hate comments, not your companies, and definitely not the malicious rumors surrounding your relationship. Being with Nayeon was definitely worth it.
“We should get going, babe”, she said with a sad smile “you have a photoshoot and I’ve got an interview; we can’t stay any longer”.
As if to mock her, right in that second it began to pour. Nayeon looked at you in shock, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the troubled expression she wore. You knew perfectly well you would have to find a way to leave the small café you were currently hanging out at, your schedules depended on it, but still, a few extra minutes with your girlfriend couldn’t hurt.
“We’re going to have to make a run for it”, you sighed, the responsible part of your brain outweighing the not-so-smart one.
Nayeon looked at you with a frown on her face, her gaze kept moving between your frame and the raging storm outside. “You’re not wearing a jacket, y/n”.
You hummed, “it doesn’t look like this rain is stopping any time soon, we can’t afford to wait”.
“You’re going to catch a cold”.
“Maybe, but you know the deal, our relationship must not interfere with our careers” you rolled your eyes as you recited the same speech that had followed you around for the past month.
“Stay here”, she said sternly, “I’ll be right back”. You frowned, but followed her instructions. Not even five minutes later, Nayeon was back with a black umbrella in her hand.
“Where’d you get that from?” you asked her, she definitely didn’t have an umbrella when you got here.
“I just bought it” she grumbled, “I’m not going to let you get sick. Now come on, we really should get going”.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Jihyo was currently waiting for the rest of her members to finish getting ready, they had an interview lined up and who knows what else might get magically booked along the way.
In an attempt to entertain herself, the leader unlocked her phone and tapped on the Twitter app. She mindlessly scrolled through her timeline, nothing truly catching her attention; that was until she came across two familiar figures.
Several pictures of her fellow member and her girlfriend greeted her. Now, Jihyo wasn’t surprised by the pictures in general; Nayeon, despite the countless warnings, was always going out of her way to show off her relationship. What truly surprised the group’s leader was the fact that the eldest member had an arm securely wrapped around you, her other hand too busy holding an umbrella in an attempt to shield you both from the rain.
An umbrella?
Before Jihyo could think about it any further, Nayeon made her way into the dorm.
The first thing the oldest Twice member did as soon as she got home was throw the umbrella somewhere far away from her, a sour expression on her face. Jihyo let out a loud laugh, not believing the sight before her very eyes; the leader’s laugh finally catching the other girl’s attention.
“You’re such a simp, Im Nayeon”.
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Loud laughs bounced back and forth across the Twice dorm and Nayeon wished she could disappear. What would you even say to that?
 “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Why did that make you realize she loves me?” the members gave themselves whiplash with how fast they all turned to look at you.
“You mean she never told you?” Dahyun asked.
“Told me what?” you asked nervously, Nayeon whined, wrapping you in an even tighter hug.
“Nayeon absolutely hates umbrellas, y/n” Jihyo explained. “She hates them so much, back when we were trainees, she used to wear a box on top of her head whenever it rained”.
“Even to this day!” Sana continued, “whenever our managers try to help her out with umbrellas she runs away” she giggled.
“But somehow all of that goes out the window when it comes to you” Jeongyeon smirked, “you have her wrapped around your finger, y/n”.
“Nayeon can’t have her princess getting sick” Momo teased.
The girls kept throwing jabs here and there, but you tuned them out, trying to focus your entire attention on your blushing girlfriend. You sent her a soft smile, she returned it immediately, feeling absolutely at ease once she saw that sparkle in your eyes.
“Do you really hate umbrellas that much?” you laughed.
Nayeon groaned at your question, feeling embarrassed all over again. “I do, I really really do”, she paused to steal a quick kiss from your lips, “but I love you way more”.
You beamed at your girlfriend, feeling on cloud nine when you finally heard her say those words you had been longing for.
“I love you too, Im Nayeon” you said, pressing your lips against hers in a sweet kiss.
“Jihyo! The couple is being annoying again!”.
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A/N: Everytime I think of a one shot I always have the idea that it will be roughly 500 words, and somehow I always end up going past 1k, oh well.
Thank you so much for reading! If you have any requests or anything like that feel free to let me know :)
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frogzzai · 11 months
Note
Upper moon anon back lol, and this time let's go spicier~ (and add Muzan if you'd like, up to you!) Kissing, but downstairs 😉 (I loved the last post btw! 🥰)
Welcome back hun 🫶 Sorry it took me so long to get to this request, I kept forgetting :').
Time for spice ig 😍
Send in requests I have no motivation :'( (I write for MHA, Creepypasta, Slashers, Demon Slayer, JJK, Harry Potter, Rick and Morty, Fantastic Beasts, Winx)
Characters included: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Hantengu, Sekido, Urogi, Karaku, Aizetsu, Gyokko, Gyutaro, Muzan
Warning: NSFW
Reader is AFAB but no pronouns mentioned.
Uppermoon 1- Kokushibo
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Let's just be honest with ourselves, this man's a pussy eating GOD.
Not only did he used to have a wife, mf has 6 eyes. He definitely notices what your body reacts to more.
We all know he's pretty skilled, I'm not talking just about combat.
Could eat you out for AGES. He'll go to the point you have to try and drag him away by his hair while babbling incoherently.
It doesn't matter whether you're demon or human, your taste intoxicates him.
Overstimulation is 100% his specialty. Like I said earlier, he doesn't know when to stop. Do you really want him to stop though?
He'll use both his fingers and tongue, wants you to feel as best as possible.
Sit on his face. Please. He'd quite happily suffocate underneath you, if he could die like that he would.
Not a teaser, just wants as many orgasms out of you as possible.
Definitely the type to leave little lingering butterfly kisses all over your clit, he's a body worshipper.
Uppermoon 2- Douma
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Loves to tease you.
Enjoys making you get off on his tongue by yourself, no guidance from him.
Occasionally he'll take the reins and overstimulate you till you can't remember your own name, only his.
He doesn't like giving you want you want (pleasure-wise), so he'll make you beg for it.
He doesn't care if his followers hear it, let them think what they want. He won't let them see though, no one else can see you like that. If anybody bothers you about it, well, they won't be around to bother you much longer.
Douma enjoys hearing you whine while edging you but also loves hearing you uncontrollably sob from overstimulation so he'd probably do a bit of both.
Will 100% leave bite marks on your thighs.
Will also playfully bite at your clit but not too hard, just enough to draw blood.
Uppermoon 3- Akaza
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Similarly to Kokushibo, this man is a body worshipper.
Would stay in between your legs forever if you'd let him.
Please whimper his name and praise him, it'll make him happy.
Not a fan of teasing, wants to give you as much pleasure as (humanly?) possible.
This man cannot get enough.
Grips your thighs to make you stay in place... do with that what you will
Another fan of face sitting because it gives him better access.
Please suffocate him, unless you're hiding a nichirine sword up your pussy it won't kill him. Even if you somehow were I don't think he'd mind.
He'd definitely just show up out of no where and try to eat you out. It's almost like he teleports he's so quiet.
Will squeeze as many orgasms out of you as he possibly can.
Will incorporate his fingers somehow.
Hantengu
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Wouldn't. Just wouldn't.
How'd you even get within 2 feet of him without him spontaneously combusting on the spot, let alone get in a relationship with him.
He is literally fear. I mean, it says it on his tongue...
He is going no where near there.
He can barely make eye contact with you!
He just can't.
Sekido
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Aggressive pussy eater.
No mercy, literally won't let you go till you either squirt multiple times onto his tongue or you pass out from the overwhelming overstimulation.
I mean, sort of obvious isn't it?
Will sometimes add toys if he's feeling extra mean (that's pretty common).
I feel like the marking on his tongue (along with the other clones) would have a slightly different texture than the rest of it so it'd add to the whole experience if yk what I mean...
Bites. Take that however you wish.
Will hold your thighs apart so harshly you'll have bruises the size of his fingers appearing on you in the next hour.
Urogi
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I feel like he can give out vibrations from his mouth. Just saying..
Will leave scratches down your thighs, I mean, look at his talons. Hands? Claws? Talons.
Surprisingly skilled with his tongue.
This man definitely loves hair pulling. Fight me.
Just grab a handful of his luscious locks and you've got him almost cumming in his pants.
He's vocal, he's moaning and grunting at the taste of you, 'course you can barely hear him over your own sounds though.
I feel like he'd trace patterns gently over your clit with his tongue if he felt like teasing you.
Will spell his own name if he does this.
He'll eat you out whilst in the air at least once, either that or he'll fly to high places to do it.
I guess you've technically joined the mile high club? I know he's not a plane but.. it sort of counts.
Karaku
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He is literally pleasure.
There's no saying whether he has experience or not, but, does it really matter? He makes you go dumb on his tongue every time so are you going to complain either way? No.
Another one that's into hair pulling, he has long hair, why not put it to use?
Out of all the brothers he's the most skilled.
He doesn't have a favourite position or speed, he just takes note of what you seem to prefer at that giving time and goes by that.
He has his massive leaf thing on handy to throw people halfway across the city if they walk in.
Is in to face sitting.
He's one of those that likes to make you chase your own pleasure on his tongue but will take control halfway.
Uses toys. Do with that what you will.
Aizetsu
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He prefers slow and sensual to fast and rough.
He gets sad if he feels like he went too rough, he feels like he's hurt you no matter how much you reassure him that it didn't hurt and you actually liked it. Overtime he'll grow more confident in being rough, just give him a chance.
He holds your thighs but gently, he's a thigh man.
He leaves soft little love bites up them.
Leaves fleeting kisses on your clit.
Subconsciously runs his hands from your waist down to your thigs and then up again while eating you out.
Don't mention it, he'll get embarrassed..
His brothers prefer tongue-fucking, he prefers softer clit sucking.
He quite likes fact sitting so you can't see him flushed red.
Gyokko
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How?
He barely has a body, he's built like a genie if you ignore the face.
Back to the face... It would be difficult, it'd get in his eye, look at the placement. He doesn't even have eyelids.
I think he'd use his many little hands.
If he went into his final form then it might be easier but still, the eye placement.
I don't really see it working.
Gyutaro
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No experience.
Obviously.
You'll have to teach him, but it's ok, we all know he's a quick learner.
He'll use his fingers with it because he's nervous his mouth isn't doing enough.
Trust me, it is.
Another biter, thighs, clit, anywhere he can get to.
Not into hair pulling that much, prefers it when you gentle stroke his hair.
Please praise him, he needs to know if he's doing ok.
Mutters sweet nothings into your clit, you're one of the most beautiful beings he has ever set eyes on, after Daki of course.
Muzan
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He's somewhat of a gentleman. Occasionally.
Either slow and sensual like Aizestu or fast and rough like Sekido. No in-between.
Not into face sitting, it makes him feel vulnerable.
In his final form however, sit on his thigh whilst one of his mouths eats you out.
He's skilled. He's had past partners so he knows what he's doing.
You're the only one he does it with some sort of meaning behind it.
Very skilled with his hands to, just going to leave that there.
Female Muzan is better, but they're almost on par.
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chronicbeans · 1 year
Text
Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 3)
My brain has gone on with this idea and I love where it is going. Yippee!
TW: Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery, Idol Worshipping
🎥 This has gone on long enough! In just a few weeks since that interview, the letters and pictures have increased tenfold! You keep finding Wally in the oddest of places, like on your desk, in the lounge, or even next to your locker. It constantly feels like eyes are watching you.
🎥 Even the contents of the letters are getting stranger. They were always odd and creepy, but at least before they had lighthearted words in them. Now they're saying things like "You're the air I breathe and all I see. You make my days better or worse. You keep me warm and keep this neighborhood bright! Please, never abandon me!" It's all written in that messy crayon writing, too, which makes an eerie contrast to the words that makes you sick. It seems so childishly unaware of how disturbing the words are when thought about for too long.
🎥 The drawings aren't much better. Nine out of ten times, they include you in some way. From the pictures just including you, including you and the characters from Welcome Home, to - worst of all, in your opinion - you in real life places. You sitting at your desk. You sleeping in the lounge. You getting a cookie at the snack stand during the interview. There's even one of you putting on your coat at the lockers. The drawings may not be the highest quality, but they are detailed enough to both be recognizable places and to alarm you.
🎥 You have an idea of who it might be. It's gotta be Wally's voice actor. They were his puppeteer before their arthritis kicked in. They just couldn't move their hands enough to properly puppet him anymore, always complaining that it hurt, despite the medications they took. But, the producer did decide to keep them as Wally's voice actor, saying that nobody could replicate his distinct laughter, tone of speech, and voice pitch. Despite this, Wally's voice actor was properly ticked and hated the fact they were replaced. They're always acting passive aggressive towards you. It must be them, probably to try to scare you away.
🎥 Today, you have decided to confront them. Marching over to their recording booth, you knock on the door. When they open it, they have that signature glare that would put even Frank's to shame. Before they can even ask what you want, you tell them all about what has been going on and how you know they have been doing it. They have to be behind it. All of these drawings and letters have Wally's signature writing and art style. The only person that knows Wally more than you is his voice actor. It HAS to be them!
🎥 They grow silent, before looking at the pictures and letters. Then, they look up at you and say, in the most matter of fact tone "I haven't been able to draw or write anything in character for a YEAR, (Y/N). What makes you think I would put myself through the pain of trying to replicate it after all this time, with my horrible joints, just to frighten YOU, of all people? You aren't worth my time, much less my comfort. You got any other evidence to accuse me of this... Whatever this is?"
🎥 You grow silent. To be honest, thinking back on it, it really is a stupid idea that they would do all of this to scare you. If they couldn't even muster up the energy to go out of their way to verbally confront you, then it would be shocking for them to put the effort to write and draw things to do so. You still have one more question, though...
🎥"What about the voice I've been hearing? It sounds just like Wally. You are his voice actor. You have gotta know something."
🎥 Their eyes grow wide. Then, they shrug "The one that has been saying things about... well, something. It's always a bit too muffled to hear exactly what it is. I thought you somehow improved your Wally impression and were practicing in order to replace me completely. Your impression may be off enough for the producers to care, but it was always the best one here. You're telling me you aren't the one making that voice?"
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Text
Don't Speak 20
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. 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: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)
Character: librarian!Andy Barber
Note: Andrew is back.
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 <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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“I want you to take this,” Dr. Kemp turns back to you, holding a spiral notebook with black and white cover, “and I want you to use it.”
You stare, uncertain as he crosses the room. Use it? How?
“You can write down your feelings, you can make lists for yourself, you can track the days…” he explains, “but I want you to put something in it every day. Can you do that for me?”
You look at the notebook as he holds it out. You slowly take it with both hands, lowering it to your lap as you run your thumbs up and down the cover. It’s brand new. You can smell the freshness of the paper.
“Can I draw in it?” You ask.
“Sure, if that’s what works for you,” he affirms, “that’s for you. You can bring it with you to our next appointment, but you don’t need to show me anything. It’s just there so you can record your moods and anything that might be a trigger for you.
“Oh,” you look up at him shyly, meeting his bold blue eyes for only a second before dropping your head.
“This is a safe place, alright? I want you to think of it like that. Everything within these walls stays between us. Our little secret.”
“Okay,” you hug the notebook to your chest.
“And I want you to set yourself a little goal every day. Nothing big, alright? It could be a shower, it could be reading a chapter of a book, it could be as simple as walking around the house,” he continues, “but you can’t stay in bed all the time. You gotta take care of yourself. You have to give yourself love and those things are the best sort of love.”
You nod and rock slightly, “yes, doctor. Are we… done now?”
“Are we?” He bends and crosses his arms over the back of the empty chair, “that’s up to you.”
“I… I think. I don’t wanna waste any more of your time.”
“Waste? No. See? Don’t talk about yourself like that. You didn’t waste my time, you enriched it,” he smiles, you see only a glimpse of how it brightens his features. “I think you should go home and get some rest. You came all the way here and you did a really good job.”
He pushes himself straight, “I’ll have my receptionist schedule a follow-up.”
“Thank you, doctor,” you stand and pick at the corner of the notebook.
“You let Andy take care of you too, huh? He’s worried,” he extends his arm, directing you to the door, “he’s a good friend of mine.”
“Uh, alright,” you murmur as he walks with you to the door. He rests his hand on the handle and you smell his cologne, rich but overwhelming. 
“It was really nice meeting you,” he turns the handle slowly.
“You too,” you squeak.
“See ya around,” he opens the door, “and remember, take care of you.”
“Thanks,” you keep your chin down as you exit.
Andy sits in the waiting room at the edge of his seat. He grips his knees and stands swiftly as he sees you. He must’ve been waiting a very long time. That felt like it lasted forever. The tension in his forehead slackens as you approach.
“How was it, honey? You okay?” He asks, his tone slightly addled.
“Yes, er, maybe,” you answer, “I don’t know.”
“What’s that?” He taps the top of the notebook.
“Um, a journal.”
“Steve gave that to you?”
You nod.
“That’s very nice of him. Well, how about we stop and buy you some nice pens to write in it?”
“You don’t have to…”
“I have to grab a few things,” he interjects, “I kind of… fell behind. I haven’t been out of the house, you know? I couldn’t leave you, I was so worried.”
“Oh? What about work?” You wonder tremulously.
“I had some time banked, it’s really not a big deal, but I gotta grab some groceries and we can look at some cute pens…”
“Can’t… can’t you do it later?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He rubs his beard and exhales. “Well, I’d have to drop you off and then come all the way back–”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you blurt out as you hear his disappointment, “I’m sorry, no, we can go, I just… I’m tired, is all.”
“It’s okay, honey. We’ll try to be fast, how about that?”
You nod and hide behind your lashes. Your guilt flows over and chokes you tightly. He brought you all the way here and missed work and it’s all your fault. Because you’re broken and useless.
“I’ll… I’ll try to make dinner,” you suggest, “Dr. Kemp says I should set goals.”
“Alright, sounds good,” Andy softens, “we should get going before it’s too busy.”
🕊️
You sit in the car, fluttering through the blank pages as Andy drives. You should write about your appointment. Put down everything that Dr. Kemp said before you forget. That’s a good plan. He’s right, it’s easy to set small goals.
“Hey, uh, I uh, can I talk to you?” Andy turns down the music.
“Er sure,” you shrug.
“Right, um, I wasn’t sure when to– or how to– I don’t wanna upset you, you know that, right? That I wouldn’t hurt you?” He begins, fingers tapping on the steering wheel.
You blink and stare at the dashboard, “I know, Andy. You’ve… done a lot for me.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that. It’s not… I don’t consider it a task, but er, the other day, I wanted to say sorry,” he clears his throat, squirming in his seat, “I should’ve knocked.”
Your throat tightens and you sit back stiffly. Your whole body locks up as the memory enshrines you. The damp air, the hot water, him staring at you, at your naked body.
“No,” you utter, “no, I don’t want to talk about it.”
He’s quiet as he turns the wheel, “sorry, sweetie, like I said, I don’t want to upset you. I just want… I’m just sorry for bursting in like that. I never want you to feel unsafe. Especially with me.”
“I… don’t,” you sniff, “it was just… a mistake. Can we forget it?”
“Sure,” he accepts, “yeah, let’s just forget it.”
“Thanks,” you lean into the door, watching the traffic through the window. 
Your body is covered in goosebumps. You feel like he’s seeing it all again. Just talking about it makes you feel exposed. What he must have thought about you. Hideous and gross.
“Here we are,” Andy says as the blinker clicks loudly.
He steers into a large lot and you peer up at the mall marquee. What are you doing here? You thought he was going to the grocery store?
“I got coupons for the place in here,” he explains as if reading your mind, “they just opened it, put it where the Target was.”
“Oh… I… never come here…”
“I think you’ll like it. They have everything– damn, not a lot of spots left. We’ll have to walk a bit.” He rolls into a space, “might be good for you to stretch your legs. We can always sit if you need to.”
You don’t argue. You feel bad enough. You won’t get in his way again.
“Sure.”
You get out and leave the notebook on the seat. Andy waits for you by the bumper and you follow him up the row of cars. You stop and wait to cross to the nearest entrance. The place is vast and makes your heart pound. There’s so many people coming and going through the many doors.
Inside, you feel a greater sense of doom. Shoppers brushing too close, teens speaking loudly in large groups, children screaming and mothers with strollers. Unthinkingly you grab onto Andy’s arm, keeping close to him.
“Hey,” he looks down at you as he leads you through the wide walkway.
“Just… don’t wanna get lost,” you cling to him tighter at the thought.
“That’s alright,” he smiles and looks around, “oh, hey…” He pulls you over to a shop window, “look at that.”
He points to the dress on the mannequin. It’s a nice shade of blue with the silhouette of birds patterned across it. Very pretty but you don’t wear dresses.
“Cute, huh?”
“Yeah.”
He stares, unmoving. You glance around. Where is the grocery store? You just want to leave this place.
“Come on,” he tugs you towards the entrance of the shop, “we can see if they have it in your size.”
“What? No. Andy. That’s okay. I don’t… I don’t need a dress.”
He stops just inside, “maybe, but do you want it?”
You chew your cheek, “I don’t know…”
“Look, you really don’t have that many clothes. I didn’t want to embarrass you but I spoke with Steve and he said… maybe it would be good to get you some new things. Like a refresh. Start new–”
“You said. You said we came to get groceries.”
“We did, honey, but I left this out. I was trying to surprise you. I thought– I thought it was a nice surprise.”
You see his expression fall. Oh no. You feel awful. You’re not trying to complain or be ungrateful, you just hate crowds and all these strangers.
“I… okay, it is nice. Andy,” you let go of him, “really, it’s so nice. No one ever… Amber always got me handmedowns, but I never…” you put your hands behind you and bounce on your toes, “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine, I know it’s all very new. I wasn’t trying to upset you or scare you,” he says, “maybe we could just look online.”
It’s clear he’s disappointed, if not agitated. You feel rotten. You remind yourself of all that he’s done and every time, you just whine like a baby.
“No, we can look around…” you try to smile.
He gives you a thoughtful look then peeks around the shop, “alright… well, you wanna try the dress on?”
You wince. You typically didn’t try things on at the thrift shop. You just picked things that looked like they would fit. The idea of getting undressed here, even in a private stall, is scary. Don’t be a baby.
“Okay,” you acquiesce, “I could do that.”
“Great,” he says and claps his hands.
He spins on his heel and you trail him as he confidently weaves between the tables and other shoppers. He stops before the dresses hung behind the window and sifts through the hangers. He slips one of the blue ones off the rod and holds it up.
“I think this is your size? I’m not sure.”
“Looks like,” you mutter, “um, I’ll… try it.”
“We can look at a few other things,” he offers.
“Maybe after?”
“Alright,” he searches around and flags down one of the employees, “excuse me, she wants to try this one.”
“Wonderful,” the woman chimes and takes the hanger from him, “just the one?”
“For now,” Andy smiles.
“This way, sweetheart,” the woman says as she beckons you with her long acrylic nails.
You follow her and Andy brings up the rear. She takes you around the counter and through a doorway. A row of stalls line the wall and she unlocks one with a key, hanging the dress inside. She steps back and leaves the door open for you.
“It’s all yours. Let me know if I can get you anything else. My name’s Isa.”
“Thanks,” you murmur mousily and she grins before strutting off.
“I’ll be out here,” Andy says as he sits on the bench.
You enter the changing room and close the door, certain to slide the bar through the loop. You turn and see yourself in the mirror. You flinch. You look down at your feet, refusing to acknowledge your reflection.
You undress then grab the dress. You pull down the zipper and shimmy it on. You strain to pull the zipper back up and fix the skirt so it hangs down properly. The skirt ends above your knees.
“Everything okay?” Andy calls from outside.
“Good,” you squeak and turn to face the door. You grab the side of the skirt, holding it firmly as you slide open the lock. You open the door reluctantly and reveal yourself. You clutch the other seam, “I think it’s a bit short.”
Andy looks at you. His cheek twitches as he sits up and smiles, “really? Looks fine to me…” he stares, making you squirm, “looks really nice on you, dove.”
“I don’t know…”
He nods and bites his lower lip, “it’s whatever you want.”
There it is again. Disappointed. You look down. It’s not that short and it is pretty. You could put a sweater over it and maybe some leggings underneath.
“I’ll get it,” you raise your head, “thanks, Andy.”
“Of course,” he says brightly.
You retreat into the dressing room and change back into your own clothes. You slip the dress back onto the hanger and bring it out with you. He takes it from you and guides you back into the shop. He stops you at a rack of jewelry.
“Look,” he grabs a silver necklace with a bird charm, “it’ll go with the dress.”
“Oh, sure,” you agree. Whatever he wants, you’ll get. You’d hate to overstep and you don’t exactly have a good sense of style. “Very pretty.”
“Let’s just have a look around, you never know… maybe find some nice shoes too?”
You nod and let him lead the way. As you progress through the shop, he picks out more things; some skirts, a sweater, some shirts, more jewelry, even some belts. He has an armful by the time you approach the checkout. You wring your hands. That’s a whole lot of stuff.
“Someone’s birthday?” Isa asks as she greets you at the counter.
“Uh, no, just… shopping,” Andy answers, “she needed a few things.”
“A few?” Isa scoffs, “I wish I had a husband who would spoil me with just a few things.”
“Husband?” You blanch.
Andy chuckles, “she deserves it.”
You notice how he doesn’t correct her. Maybe he feels too awkward. Like you.
“Sir, would you like to buy one of our membership cards? It’ll get you twenty percent off today’s purchase.”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” he pulls out his wallet, “how much?”
“It’s twenty dollars annually, gets you ten percent off every purchase.”
“Not bad, sure, why not? We might be back.”
“Andy,” you say softly.
He ignores you as he gets his card free. You watch the total mount as Isa scans each item. Somehow, this doesn’t feel like a favour. It’s just another number to add to the tally of what you owe him.
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muldermuse · 5 months
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this is kind of a ramble so bear with me:
thinking about sending two sinners!gator into an absolute tailspin when he shows up to your house to see everything in boxes and your clothes packed up in a few suitcases by the door
he’s like ????? WHAT IS GOING ON WHERE ARE YOU GOING???? and just casually saying “skipping town” and going to kiss him and he’s like ??????
i can only imagine the catharsis of telling him that “there’s nothing in fargo for me, most of the town hates me and the ones who don’t just wanna fuck me, you’re probably gonna marry glenda which will only make everyone hate me even more if they find out i’m the other woman. So I want to live somewhere else. I’m not happy here.” and he obv freaks out
and maybe you’re just going to stay at a friends house while your place gets painted, but maybe leaving was on your mind (it’s easier to sell a house with fresh paint👀), and maybe you wanted to see how serious he was about coming with you…but none of that is any of his business…
i’m usually not an angst girlie but i’m on my period and it’s probably a safer bet to be melodramatic and pick a fight with a fictional man than one i actually know 😭😭
ok this ask made me feral, i felt so ANGSTY writing it
thank u so much for sending it through angel <3
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18+ only!! Angst below the cut!! Gator is mean and reader is maybe meaner. They're both terrible people. He calls her a whore, she calls him a lot of mean names. Mentions of smut but no actual smut.
Maybe, this is super far in the future for the two sinners fic or maybe it is not canon. who knows!!! not me!!!
You’re not sure how he found out. You’ve quietly handed your notice in at work and said goodbye to the few in this shitty town you care about. Jenson, Jax and Steve have been ghosted (but you know that they’d all come back with a simple ‘you up?’ text). You weren’t going to tell Gator you were leaving- he didn’t deserve a goodbye. You’d planned to go for 3 months as your place was going to get renovated in that time (you’d been saving up for years to make it more of a home). So, you thought that the months away would be an opportunity to become a new person. A better person. Someone who didn’t fuck pathetic Sheriffs. If anyone looked in; they’d think you were going forever. You’d decided that as soon as you left, you’d block Gator and when (or if) you returned, you’d avoid him like the plague.
The U-HAUL parked in your drive probably gave it away. Or when Glenda saw you filling up your truck and made a snide comment about what you were doing. Or maybe it was when you fucked him 2 days ago he made a passing comment about how empty your home looked. Since then, the entire hall area is covered in boxes filled with your possessions. You try not to let it depress you that your whole life has been packed up in a matter of days. You need a fresh start, you’re moving in with a friend a few towns over and you can be whoever you want to be for a few months. No one there has to know that you’ve been fucking a loser in a relationship for the best part of 2 years. You know it’s him as soon as he knocks on the door, no one knocks as loud as him and other people wait to be invited in. Gator lets himself in as you’re checking your backpack one final time.
“The fuck is all this shit?” He kicks a box that’s in his way and you’re thankful you don’t hear a shatter. “Saw the U-Haul and uh- Glenda saw you fillin’ up. Plannin’ a trip or somethin’?”. He tries to sound unbothered but you know him better than that.
You don’t look at him when you tell him, “Yeah, I’m leaving”. You tell yourself that it’s because you’re checking your backpack but really it’s because you can feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins and you’re trying to compose yourself before you lose your shit.
“The fuck did you jus’ fuckin’ say?”
“Sorry, I’ll say it slower because you’re a fuckin’ idiot. I am leaving”. You draw out the last three words and stare at him. You can hear your heart thumping in your ears as you try to read the expression on his face. It’s a mix of anger, confusion, and sadness. A soft kiss his pressed to his cheek as you walk into the dining room to check your toiletries box. That’s the only pleasantry you’ll exchange with him today- or maybe ever again.
His boots stomp behind you as he follows you in. “Well, where are you goin’?”
“I’ll tell you when I’m there, Gator. Now you can fuck off back to Glenda and play fuckin’ happy families for the rest of your life”.
“Well- why are you leavin’? You’ve never mentioned this before”. His voice breaks as he speaks, either a sign he’s getting choked up or he’s getting really angry.
You can feel the anger rattling in your chest and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears becomes overwhelming. “Why am I going? Gator, everyone in this town fuckin’ hates me or thinks that I’m a total whore because of your fuckin’ bitch of a girlfriend. Who- by the way, you’re goin’ to marry because you’re too fuckin’ chickenshit to upset your crazy daddy…” You slam your hands on the table and take a quick breath, “Gator- I fuckin’ hate it here, I’m miserable and I can’t do it any longer- it’s killin’ me”.
He’s stood opposite you and fuck, does he look mad. He doesn’t move for a minute but then shoves your boxes off the table and kicks them when they hit the floor. After a few seconds, he kicks them again with more force and slams his hands on the table.
“Yeah, real fuckin’ mature Gator, breaking my shit beca-“
“What about this? What about us?” His voice is more muted than you’ve ever heard it. His breath is shuddering gasps. You’re unsure why it enrages you.
You laugh cruelly, “What us? What the fuck are you talking about? Gator, you have a fuckin’ girlfriend who you’re going to marry.”
“Yeah but when has that stopped you- huh? You can’t put this all on me. You’re jus’ as bad as me.”
He moves to stand in front of you. The energy in the room is charged, usually, when it feels like this between the pair of you, it would end in some angry sex where you’re both trying to dominate the other person but you both know that isn’t going to happen today. 
“You’re movin’ away to be a fuckin’ whore somewhere else... or because you’re jealous of Glenda. She gets all of me and you jus’ get the fuckin’ scraps”. His smile is wicked and his eyes look darker than you’ve ever seen them.
You take a step closer to him, “I couldn’t think of anything fucking worse than havin’ all of you. You’re a pathetic fuckin’ daddy’s boy who’s never won anythin’ in his life”. You get close enough to whisper in his ear, “you’re a fuckin’ loser, Gator.”
You hate how much you want to fuck him in this moment and by the red bloom that’s creeping up his neck; you know he feels the same.
He leaves your home silently. He kicks another box on his way out and you finally hear a shatter. His tyres spin as his car races off your front lawn. 
You should block his number and know that that is the end of this awful affair. 
But you both know that it isn’t.
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