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#chapter one hundred and five
pastafossa · 2 months
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How do you get past writer's block? I have a fic that I'm working on that is updating on a schedule, and I made the mistake of giving myself a month off in between parts and now I can't really get back into writing it. I don't want to leave it abandoned because I have a few people who I know are really invested and I don't want to leave them hanging, but I'm having a hard time getting as excited to write it as I did before.
Ok so I'm in a weird place for this, hilariously. Because The Answer That Usually Works For Me (TM) and that carried me through a regular weekly update schedule for almost two and a half years is, in fact, not at present working for me apparently my brain can write through a pandemic but not through recovery from the shit that went down in December/Jan so we found my writing kryptonite. However, I'm going to assume you're closer to 2021 Pasta than 2024 Pasta. SO LET'S GO WITH THE METHOD I NORMALLY USE SINCE IT WAS SUCCESSFUL FOR YEARS. Cause that's the thing: sure, I've written almost a million words, and pumped out chapters for years (ignoring the past few months) but I promise, I hit the same walls as everyone else even when nailing weekly uploads. But over those years, I came up with a fairly solid list of steps that I'd go through one by one.
Fun one first: when I'm in a block, I almost always try re-engaging with canon first. I'd rewatch my favorite episodes, binge a whole season, or even the whole series depending on how much of a boost I needed. For me at least that was often like Pavlov's bell, my favorite story triggering a flood of affection. I'd remember why I loved this fandom and the characters so much, and it could often kickstart my brain and excitement back into gear. If you really want to dangle a carrot and your fic touches on canon, focus on watching parts you're excited to get to in your story. A big one for me in TRT for example was the post-Nobu, Nelson v. Murdock episode, since I'd had that planned for TRT almost since the start, and I was very excited to reach the hurt/comfort I had planned. Even if your fic isn't following canon though, see if it'll give you a creative rush again!
So let's say step 1 doesn't work, either because the canon just isn't hitting the spot or because your fic is dealing with something else. In this case, my next step was usually to jump ahead to write a scene I was really eager to get to. It was often a short blurb, but it was always something I REALLY wanted to explore, and because I'm also a reader who likes exactly the tropes and plots I'm writing, I want to read what fucking happens. Except, fuck, I'm not there yet, am I? And I can't see how that scene finishes until I write my way up to it and finish it. This is my own carrot. Multiple scenes in TRT were written months or even years in advance, simply as a way to bribe myself. This is also an option!
But maybe this doesn't work. Sometimes it didn't. This is when it got a bit more serious. For anyone who was reading at the time, you'd have noticed that I'd sometimes drop side fics, either Matt POVs or one-shots. This was me, in essence, working on the shower principle (basically, ideas/solutions will come if you stop thinking about it and do something else, like take a shower). I figured if I went and wrote something else - either with less stress, or something fun and dopamine-inducing - the part of my brain focused on my Big Fic would wander around the writer's block beneath my notice. And it almost always worked, all while I still kept my brain trained that, hey, even if we're not writing This Thing, we're still writing.
But let's say this doesn't work either. You're well, and truly, stuck. Been there now and then. And, you're going to hate this one. I hate it but it works 9 times of 10. And it is: Write anyway. Half of it was spite. I was not going to give up my schedule, I liked my schedule. The other half was that I knew myself. I knew if I could just get past the chapter/plot/dialogue I was struggling with, I'd be able to roll along again. And so I made a rule: whatever I wrote didn't have to be pretty. It just had to exist. If that meant I wrote, "Jane chased the cat in circles and caught it. She was happy." then that's what I wrote. Because everything, EVERYTHING, can be fixed in editing. But you can't fix what doesn't exist. And so there were those nights when I would scowl and groan and snarl and bash my head against that writer's block until 5 in the morning, but in the end Jane chased that fucking cat adn caught it, it was written. Hilariously, sometimes those chapters have wound up amazing (likely because I spent so much time hammering at them) and reader favorites. There are absolutely, I believe, moments where you can, and should, see if you can push through.
But that brings me to *waves* now. A lesson I've only recently recently and with encouragement. Namely... sometimes brain no go and that's ok. My steps work for me 99.9% of the time, but I've done the above during the past few months, and it just... hasn't dragged me out entirely out of it yet. Sometimes, our brains demand that break, especially when things just aren't going great. There's a reason TRT had a break of roughly 2 years between chapter 4 and chapter 5 (feel free to check the chapter index with dates on AO3!). I had some life things happening and I just was not in a place to write, even if I was still busily plotting and planning and thinking about TRT behind the scenes. And that was ok. We're not machines. I came back like a bulldozer in Jan 2021, yes, and bulldozed through weekly updates, but that break was needed. And now I'm obviously taking a short one again while I recover from everything. It's ok if you're not in a place for it. So the last step is one I've been told a lot by dear friends recently as they helped me through this: be kind to yourself, and try not to stress if none of the above works. The story will always be there, and if TRT is any indication through all its highs and lows, your readers will be there when you start up again.
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Yona of the Dawn: Chapter 175 ~ My Favorite Bits (SPOILERS)
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That squirrel has saved more lives...
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It’s too sweet 🥺
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I’m not crying 😭
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That is some real trust there
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Yay! They’re still alive!
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THIS
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AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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THIS GUY
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Kind of want to see that...
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My man 😍💚
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Is it just me or did it sound like Zeridee-und’h though Alden was engaged to Stewarts sister?
That was kind of funny
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gailynovelry · 29 days
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Related to the "don't edit your first draft isn't universally useful advice" thing, we are pleasantly surprised to realize that we did several kinds of editing already for Breathing Gods, and that there's really not that much to tidy up or trim now that we got the whole thing wrapped up.
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renee-writer · 9 months
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Out of Time Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-five
AO3
He is loath to leave his family. Daniel loves his baby sister to their relief. He knows Jenny and Asha will take excellent care of the children and that they have lots of support. Still…
 
Abigail has changed since she was born just a week ago. How much more will she while he is gone?
 
Asha sees the look on his face. “I know. I don’t want you to go either. But, you must. Because there could be other Kitty’s out there that need a large family. More Tara’s that need understanding. What has been built here is special.  A family out of strangers, for the most part. We will be okay.”
 
“You are a wonder, Asha. You always know what to say. I will just miss you guys and Daniel, so much.”
 
“We will miss you. I will tell them about you every day. Daniel won’t forget and Abigail will know, who their daddy is.”
 
“Kitty, I have to go away. But, I will come back. Tara and Nora will be here with you. Mary and the others. All the children. I have to go because there could be another little girl hidden away that needs finding.” He holds her on his lap as he tells her goodbye. As with the other children, she sits up. Unfortunately, that is still all the progress she has made. No eye contact. No response to even shows she hears.
 
“Daddy bye bye?” Asherah inquires.
 
“Aye, just for a little while.” He can’t really know that but feels better saying it aloud. “Daddy is going to hunt for people.”
 
She frowns and tilts her head. “Kitty?”
 
He grins and picks her up. “Just like Kitty. Mam will see to you.” He hugs her close. Leaving her and Heather is incredibly tough. Their mission is important though. Finding Kitty and her caregivers changed the nature of what they were doing.
 
“You will be the braw lad I know you are and look after mama and Naomi?” Murtagh asks his son.
 
“Aye papa.” He stands as tall as he can. At four, he is growing into a real person. Murtagh hates to waste a moment of it.
 
Mary, holding Naomi, tries to smile. He needs to do this and she needs to be brave so he can.
 
They set out an hour later.
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thenerdygirlexp · 9 months
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#Riverdale Chapter One Hundred And Thirty-Five: For A Better Tomorrow S7Ep18 Preview via @stacyamiller85 @CW_Riverdale #RiverdaleFinalSeason #RiverdaleSeason7
Riverdale returns for Season 7 on March 29, 2023 . Continue reading Untitled
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mochapanda · 1 year
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the only reason this novels gonna be so hard to read is that i will probably end up putting it down for months forgetting it all and picking it back up thats the thing. i just have to stick with it and finish it without walking away from it for too long
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buryustogether · 11 months
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lilac - chapter 1
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miguel o’hara x f!reader
summary: the father of one of your students is acting rather strangely - but when he smiles at you, you can’t help but forget your own name.
wc: 6k
warnings/tags: mentions of blood and violence, swearing, pining, stripping, strip club, sex workers, sexual fantasy, smut, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f! receiving), pet names, dom!miguel, single father!miguel, teacher!stripper!reader
author’s note: set in the universe where miguel replaces his father!variant with himself. ps - planning on turning this into a series/full fic.
New York
Earth - 9193
Since you could remember, the sky above the city, flecked with struggling stars and choking on itself over clouds of smog like cigarette smoke, had been deep purple. Some called it violet. Others named it plum. They were trying to make a prettier picture of an ugly reality, desperately ignoring the real world that held them captive. The purple held every soul in this city on a taut leash; each time someone was given a little slack, they wandered too far and discovered that, really, they hadn’t ever wanted to stray in the first place. Car bombings every week. Shootings. Back alley guttings. Innocence all but a foreign language to the citizens of New York.
You wished with every bit of you that one day you’d be able to escape and see the real color of the sky. Because deep down you knew, wanted to believe, wished and prayed… that it was not this shade of dark.
Your classroom was one of the only lit rooms here in Washington Elementary School, a beacon through dimly-lit hallways and the even dimmer streets outside your windows. A long, silent exhale managed to escape your lips as you continued to grade your third graders’ spelling tests, using a pink pen to correct their mistakes instead of a red one. You figured it was less harsh, more inviting to be open to learning from where they first failed. Your back was beginning to cramp from sitting in these damn little-kid chairs, your knees practically hugged to your chest due to how low to the floor you were. You would have been at your desk - hell, you would have been home getting ready for your second job right about now - had it not been for the young girl sitting across the table from you.
Gabriella O’Hara was, in your opinion, one of the most intelligent children you’d had the pleasure of teaching. She was quick and clever and friendly, not to mention, captain of her little soccer team funded by the taxes of PTA parents and the grumbling millionaires of the city. She was a frequent flier on your good-behavior list, and her name had made a home for itself on the principal’s honor roll long before she’d landed in your class.
She was a sweetheart, to say the least. She had been raised well by her father - who, uncharacteristically, had been a no show when it came time for pick up two hours ago.
Glancing up from your papers, you smiled gently at Gabriella as she scribbled along her homework page. “Briella, honey,” you said and leaned your chin in your hand. “Why don’t you check to see if your dad texted at all.”
Obediently, Gabriella dug her phone - a little flip-type, despite there being hundreds of smartphones out these days - and clicked the button to scroll through her recent texts. You watched as her face fell, thick brows and full lips pulling downward. “Nothing,” she said and placed her phone back. She looked to you, and it was obvious from the way she squirmed in her seat that her nervous stomach was starting to get the better of her. “I’m kind of scared, Miss Y/N. My daddy’s never late.”
Setting down your pink pen, you reached across the table and placed a hand on her small forearm. You’d stayed late before when parents were late for pick up, or they forgot, or they were too stoned out of their minds to bother, but you had to admit, you were rather worried, as well. Her father had never been late once, not even by five minutes. So two hours was, really, something to bat an eye at. “I’m sure everything’s fine,” you assured her and offered a gentle smile. “He probably just got held up at work. Maybe his phone died.” Your gaze flickered briefly to the windows behind her, strung across with colorful drawings and decorations, as a number of wailing police cars zipped past. When she started to follow your eyes, you added quickly, “I bet he’s on his way right now. Why don’t you finish up your homework so you can have the rest of the evening free when you get home.”
As she went back to her work, you found yourself tapping your fingernail against the table, your gaze stuck to an empty corner across the room. Miguel O’Hara was nothing but punctual, not just to everyday events like after-school pick up, but to every single thing he did. Soccer practice and games. Parent-teacher conferences. Hell, you wouldn’t put it past him to be an hour early to that fancy job of his at Alchemax every Monday through Friday. He was a perfectionist, signing every grade card check and permission slip with the neatest signature you’d ever seen. And it was a feat to marvel at, considering he was a single father.
Once, at a soccer practice, you’d heard from a few of the mothers who had nothing better to do than gossip that he’d moved himself and Gabriella over from Queens years ago when he was hired as a geneticist. Her mother had apparently left them when she was born, and he’d done everything from that moment on for the good of his little girl.
You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself he was, by far, the best-looking man you’d ever laid eyes on. Cheekbones placed high on his face, wide, broad shoulders, a sinewy frame that nearly challenged the doorframes he walked through. He was friendly, sure. But that was all you knew. You’d never been able to get close enough to know much else. An enigma to your curious mind, Miguel was nothing short of a puzzle that you desperately wanted to put together and see the bigger picture for yourself.
Shaking your head slightly, you forced yourself to wind back into the present. God, you needed to get a fucking grip. Crushing on the father of one of your students? Fucking pathetic. You had a boyfriend, for God’s sake.
You had just begun to grade your papers again, nearing the end of your stack, when there came the sounds of footsteps pounding against the tile floor of the hallway outside. They were jogging, approaching your room at an alarming rate. You stood, thinking it was the janitor having locked himself out of his closet again, and prepared to fetch your keys when a much different - yet no less welcome - figure filled the doorway.
“Hi, daddy,” said Gabriella as Miguel O’Hara entered your classroom.
You looked up, lips parted as you took him in. God, he was stunning. Somewhere around six feet with dark, somewhat-tamed hair that matched his tan skin and the thick brows sitting above his sloped eyes, he stood with a chest that rose and caved rapidly, like he’d run through the entire school searching for your room. Which he shouldn’t have - he knew the classroom his own daughter was in. Didn’t he?
“Oh, baby,” Miguel said and rounded the table so quickly you could have blinked and missed it. He hauled her up into his arms like she was nothing but a sack of flour and hugged her tight to his chest, almost like he was trying to mold the feeling of her to himself. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I lost track of time. I’m so sorry.” As if just realizing you were in the room, watching the pair with a small smile, he set his daughter back down and pulled her backpack from the back of her chair. “Pack up your things, okay? We’ll go home in just a minute.”
He approached you where you stood beside your desk loading your purse, and you swore your heart skipped a beat as he towered over you. Thick, corded muscles and a frame that made your stomach churn excitedly, he was the perfect picture of a fucking masterpiece. “Hi,” he said in a low tone, meant for you to hear and not Gabriella. “I’m so sorry for keeping you here. Time got away from me, and when I got here, the front doors were locked.” He took a breath. “Thank you. For watching her, I mean.”
Forcing your heart to calm its thundering in the confines of your chest, you grinned up at him brightly. “It’s not a problem, Mister O’Hara. I was happy to.” You decided to say nothing about the fact that it was unlike him to lose track of time. He wore a watch that you recognized as one of the latest, expensive versions that were magnetic, not electric, so it was incapable of stopping. How exactly did time get away from a man who revolved around it? “I’m sure she’s going to crash when you get home, anyway. She had a big day.”
Miguel blinked a few times and placed a hand on his hip, jutting it out slightly. Fuck, you wished he wouldn’t do that. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm. We had a soccer scrimmage against one of the other classes today and she pulled the winning goal. Then there was the assembly over fire safety, but I’m sure you saw that in the handout last week.”
His lips remained parted for a long moment as his dark, umber gaze traveled across the stack of next week’s announcement handouts. “Right,” he said after a moment or two. “Right. Do, uh… do you think I could have another one of those? For this week. And maybe next week’s, too. Has that been sent home already?”
Giving him a rather crooked smile, you opened a drawer in your desk and produced the light green paper with last week’s announcements. Then you stacked it beneath next week’s and extended it toward his hulking frame. “Sorry if this seems a little… personal, Mister O’Hara,” you said as he took the papers, “but are you feeling alright? I really don’t mean any offense, but you seem a little… off.”
Tilting his head slightly, Miguel seemed to hesitate, fumbling with his answer in his head. He was frozen for a brief moment before your attentions were drawn across the classroom, where Gabriella zipped up her backpack and began to trudge toward the door. “I’m alright,” he said as he turned back to you. “I just, uh… I hit my head this morning. Been a little out of sorts, but I’ll be alright.”
“Daddy,” whined Gabriella under her breath. “I’m tired.”
“Okay, princesa,” he said and met her at your door. After slinging her backpack over his own shoulder and taking her hand, he glanced back at you. “Thank you again…” You watched as his eyes flickered to your name written across the whiteboard. “...Miss Y/N.”
“You’re welcome, Mister O’Hara.” A few more words sat on your tongue, desperately trying to fight against your lips and jump out before the moment escaped. You tried to fight them down, but eventually they won the battle and spilled forth. “And - and you can just call me Y/N.”
Miguel stared at you for a moment, and you thought briefly that you had crossed a line you had been unable to see. Then he smiled gently, his full lips spreading into a gentle grin. He opened his mouth to say something in return before Gabriella pulled him out the door and into the hallway. You listened as their voices and the sounds of their footsteps grew quieter before silencing, then turned away and finished gathering your things.
On your way out of the building, while slipping through the front doors, you noticed the steel bolt lock keeping them shut after dark had been snapped entirely in two - as if someone had pulled on the door hard enough to break the lock on their own.
You figured it to have been a couple students who got their hands on their parents’ bolt cutters and made a mental note to ask the janitor for a replacement.
Once you got to your car and flipped the engine, you took a breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. In that breath, you willed yourself to switch into the alternate persona you took on after the school days, after the sun had set and the night really came alive from its demented, hungover state during the lightest hours. You pushed your students into the back of your mind, your plans for tomorrow and upcoming projects and due dates into the recesses of your brain. You shoved back thoughts of Miguel O’Hara and everything about how much you wanted to fucking reverse time so that he could smile at you like he had tonight all over again.
It was time to really work, now.
The Menagerie was a club on the northeast side of the Financial District, where the warehouse fires and muggings weren’t quite as common. Police forces cruised through here more often than, say, Harlem or Queens; the people who ran the city had to keep their most well-paid workers protected and thriving, right? Who else would steal from the hands of the poor and throw it all away the first chance they got?
Thrumming, thundering music like a pulse, like the club itself was alive with the blood of money and alcohol pumping through it, pounded from speakers and shook the walls in their very foundations. Neon lights like jilted, water-colored sunlight shone from corners along the ceilings, creating shadows like both nightmares and dreams along the walls and the faces of the patrons. The bar was overflowing. Security was chasing their own tails. The place was packed. Everyone who was anyone wanted to get into The Menagerie, because between its four walls and roof, you could be anyone you wanted to be.
It was law in this gilded cage that everyone was to wear a mask, its paint and diamonds and ribbons designed to depict animals. Security wore the full-bodied faces of lions. Bartenders and servers played dress-up with rimmed eye gaps as raccoons. Guests were allowed to pick a mask ranging from creatures that roamed the sky to those that crawled the earth. And the girls - the girls were exotic, majestic things that no one would mistake for anything else. They were tigresses and peacocks, they were arctic foxes and lynxes, any animal that had long since gone missing or extinct in this world of yours. Why go searching for the real thing, when they could come here and find the women?
The Menagerie was not a club. It was a cage, for animals so desperate to get out they had bent the bars in an attempt to escape.
Staring at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room, you gingerly affixed the golden mask to your face so that it would stay spread across your features while you danced and entertained. The hard, fake porcelain covered your forehead and nose, leaving your mouth free for the lips and tongues that would attempt to claim yours as their own. Orange and gold butterfly wings blossomed from the center of the mask, disguising you as the endangered insect everyone else seemed to have forgotten about; the Monarch. Fluttering and beautiful upon the wind, never easy to catch.
That was, unless they flew right into a spider’s web.
To your left, a few of the other girls were perfecting their makeup and adjusting their outfits - what little outfits you all had. Zara, known throughout the club as the Panther, caught your eye in the mirror and flashed you a sharp smile.
“You seem quiet tonight,” she said and ran a stick of gloss over her lips. She examined herself close in her handheld. “Something on your mind?”
A few of the other girls tried to inconspicuously listen in, able to sniff out gossip from miles away. Perhaps in here, you all were a little bit more animal than human, after all.
Forcing yourself to smile gently, you waved a ring-garnished hand in Zara’s direction and turned back to your reflection. You hardly recognized yourself like this, despite seeing this version of you all week long. You hoped you never did recognize it. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you brushed off.
Across the dressing room, Shawna, the Owl, tisked her tongue and hummed from deep in her throat. “You know you’re an awful liar, girl,” she said from where she sat scrolling through her phone. “We all noticed when you came in an hour later than you do. Something happen tonight?”
Well, fuck. Now everyone was waiting for your answer, waiting to see if it was worth listening into or not.
Pursing your lips in an attempt to show that it was no big deal, despite how much your stomach and your heart and your brain screamed that it wasn’t, you shrugged a shoulder and tried to avoid their gazes. “Nothing too big,” you replied and began to absentmindedly twist the ribbon keeping your mask in place. “Just… had a student stay a little later. Her dad lost track of time.”
“It couldn’t be that Alchemax hunk you’ve been telling us about.”
Fuck - you really learned to keep your cards closer to your chest.
Your silence must have been enough for them to connect the pieces, because a few of them tittered and giggled. A newer girl, who was still earning her way up to being on stage, piped up. “Have you ever talked to him?” she asked. “I mean, besides school-related stuff. Find out if he’s attached?”
“Absolutely not,” you forced out and stood to straighten out your costume. Your breasts were barely covered by the flimsy top and your ass hung out of the bottoms, both orange and black and white, like a monarch butterfly’s designs. Gold fishnet stockings lined your legs, leading down to a set of heels that had taken weeks to not tip over in. You were supposed to wear a cape, a gown-like train, but it was stepped on too much for you to bother with it. “He’s not there to cruise teachers, he’s just trying to help his kid through the third grade.”
“More than you could’ve asked from my dad,” Zara puffed.
God, you thought, yours, too. And your mother, while you were at it. They’d never come to meetings and games and plays like Miguel did. Hell, they hardly ever even remembered to pick you up from school on their good days.
Gabriella really had hit the father lottery.
Shawna shrugged her shoulders as she rose from her seat and picked up her own mask. “Even if that’s all he’s there for,” she said, then pulled the owl-designed porcelain over her face and fixed you with a stare through the eye holes, “doesn’t have to hold you back from at least trying.”
Her words rang in your ears as you carried on with your work that evening. They stuck with you as you danced for drooling men and women who oggled at you from behind their masks, as you ran your fingers down arms to chase bigger tips, as you followed a man who paid top dollar for a private dance.
Her words rattled like bells in your head as you mindlessly ground yourself against your customer, allowing yourself to get lost in your own imagination while you willed yourself to work. You shut your eyes behind your mask and let yourself fall into a dangerous little scenario you cooked up just for yourself.
You imagined not your boyfriend, who was out there in the city somewhere playing with his stupid fucking band to a crowd of three, not of any celebrity crush or model, but of Miguel O’Hara. You imagined him beneath you instead of some man whose breath smelled like expensive alcohol. You thought of him, and his hulking frame, and his powerful thighs you had found yourself staring at anytime he entered your line of sight.
Mind running away with this little fantasy of yours, you ground yourself a little harder against the lap beneath you, pushed your chest further against the chest parallel to yours. In your head, Miguel let out a huffy breath and rested those large hands of his on your hips, slowly but surely guiding your movements until you were riding his thigh. You tried to imagine, so intensely and desperately, how such an event would go.
He would gently, but firmly, help move your hips so that your exposed clit rubbed perfectly against the rough fabric of his jeans. You would keen and arch your back into him, hands running over his sinewy shoulders, as he hitched his leg and sent a powerful jolt of pleasure running through you and right to your core.
“You like that, pretty girl?” he would murmur in your ear, lips brushing along the shell before his tongue, warm and soft and pink and wet, licked against your lobe. “Ride, querida. ‘Til I say you’re done, and then I’ll show you how a real man fucks.”
You would grind your hips against his leg, moaning aloud and unabashedly when he tensed his corded muscle so that you’d have something to hump into. His hands, wide and spread, would wander along your bare back, memorizing the skin there like it was his and his alone, and he would dip his head to attach his lips to your nipple. He’d suck the nub into a hardened bud, then kiss and lick and nibble the skin around it until it was marred with love marks that would darken the following morning, and then he’d switch and give the other one the same kind of attention.
“Miguel,” you’d whimper in a certain kind of tone, and suddenly you’d be on the bed, pulled to the edge so that the globes of your ass hung off and when he kneeled he had access to your cunt bared for him.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he would say as he pressed open-mouthed kisses up and up your inner thighs, getting closer to where you needed him most. “All for me and me alone. Isn’t that right, bebe?”
You wouldn’t be able to give him a clear answer at first, not when he would lick a long, wet stripe up the center of your folds and up to your clit. He would expertly find that little bundle of nerves, wrapping his lips around it and fondling with his tongue until you couldn’t do anything but sigh and moan and card your fingers through his dark hair to pull him closer. He would suck on your sweet spot for a while, alternating between licking stripes and adorning it with kisses, before he would slowly drag his long, thick fingers toward your sopping folds.
But he would stop just short.
“Say it,” he would tell you, dark, impenetrable gaze fixated on you from where he kneeled between your legs like a devout believer praying to his one and only love - his goddess. When you would whine and cry from the pausing of his ministrations, he would take his mouth, his wonderful, hot breath, away from your aching cunt. He would cock his head, allowing a bit of hair to fall across his face. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to, chica.”
“Miguel,” you would say again, because, really, that was all you could think of to say. “Miguel, please… need you, please…”
He would pull his fingers from your heat, gaze stony and immovable as a mountain standing tall in the midst of a storm. God, not even that could sway him. “Tell me,” he would demand again, this time in a low baritone that made your cunt clench around nothing because goddammit, even his fucking voice could send you into heat like a damn dog. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to. Now.”
“You,” would come the small, high-pitched answer, tumbling from your lips without another thought that did not involve him. “You, Miguel. Belongs to you. All for you, no one else.” You would babble, desperate to reach your climax before he let you fall back down that incline so, so cruelly, yet so, so deliciously. “Please, Miguel, need you. Need your fingers, anything. Just fuck me, please, handsome, fuck me ‘til I can’t remember my own name.”
He would tilt his head even further, like a predator toying with the prey he’d been chasing after for miles upon miles, before placing a gentle, feather-light kiss upon the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl,” he would say, then attack your clit with his full, thick lips, plunge two of his fingers into your heat, and begin to fuck you into oblivion.
The sound of his fingers constantly edging in and out of your dripping pussy, so wet you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and your ass, would pull the most wonderful and pornographic-sounding moans and whimpers and whines of his name from your throat. Your own slick would coat his digits like honey, so sweet that for a moment he would stop his assault on your divine bundle of nerves and crane his neck to lick up a bit of it from where it dripped down your ass. The flat of his muscle would raise goosebumps along your skin as you cried out for him, one hand gripping his hair and the other buried into the sheets of the bed.
“Miguel,” you would cry and begin to rock your hips to meet the thrusts of his fingers, practically humping his face. He would take it like it was his last meal, returning to his sucking and licking and circling of your clit to send bolt after bolt of pleasure and heaven and everything else in between. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”
“That’s it,” he would murmur between licks through your soaked folds, feeling as your slick dripped down his wrist. “Say my name, bebe, tell them who’s making you feel this fucking good.”
He would angle his fingers then at just the right angle, his fingertips hitting that perfect, fucking perfect spot deep inside you. Stars would dance in your vision as your mouth would open in a silent scream, unable to get anything out but a tiny wail of heavenly pleasure. You would swear you’d never felt this goddamn good in your life, like you would gladly trade everything in the whole world just to stay here forever. His pace would pick up, aiming for that spot inside of you, and he’d lap at your cunt in a feverish craze, like it was the only thing that would save him from losing his mind.
All too soon, your thighs would begin to tremble and you would feel that beautiful, familiar coil tightening and winding deep within your soul. “Miguel,” you would cry out for the whole world to hear. “Miguel, m’close, I’m so close!”
“Come on, pretty bebe,” he would say between your thighs that would try to wrap around his head in a feeble attempt to pull him closer. “Cum f’me. I want it. All of it.”
His words would send a shockwave of pleasure through you, one that would white out your vision so intensely you would have thought he’d killed you and sent you on your way to the pearly white gates, and you’d have been okay with that. He continued to work you through your orgasm, his pace slowing but never stopping, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses along your thighs, your hips, your naval.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Taking it so well, all for me. Look so pretty all laid out like this, like I could just eat you up. Would you like that, hmm? You want me to just devour you ‘til you’re left shaking and crying my name?”
“Miguel. Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”
“...My name’s not Miguel.”
Your eyes flashed open, suddenly brought back to the real world, pulled away from your fantasy. Through the holes in your monarch mask, you looked down to find your customer staring up at you with wide eyes and popping a boner put there by your mindless rocking against his hips. Feeling your cheeks flush, you slipped off of him and consciously tugged your outfit lower over your ass.
You pursed your lips, attempting to hide how mortified you were. “...That’s going to be another twenty bucks.”
It wasn’t until around one in the morning when you got home to your little apartment squished in a dilapidated little building wedged between two office towers because the landlord had refused to sell the place when they steamrolled the others ten years ago. The lights were off when you slipped inside, and a little piece of yourself inside wilted.
At once, you threw up a wall and dismissed that sinking feeling. Of course he wasn’t going to wait up for you. He’d had a show tonight, and he had another one tomorrow. He was tired.
Not nearly as fucking tired as you, though.
After wiping off your makeup and pulling off the fake little diamonds stuck on your temples, after changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth, and after pinning a new drawing from one of your students on the fridge despite the fact you knew they’d never see it, you tiptoed back to the cramped little bedroom. You poked your head inside. Ferris, your boyfriend of six months, was spread out across the entire mattress, snoring gently into the fabric of the crumpled sheets.
You swallowed thick. You didn’t want to disturb him. He needed his rest.
You grabbed your phone charger from the wall and your pillow from beneath his arm, then slid on your socks back into the tiny living room. Plopping yourself down on the couch and plugging in your phone, you rolled yourself onto your side and stared at the dark screen. Willing something to happen. Something to come up, someone to reach out.
Because in reality, though you would rather throw yourself off the Brooklyn Bridge than admit it… you had never felt so alone.
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areislol · 7 months
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A time to tell
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► PAIRINGS. genshin men x gn! creator! reader
► GENRE. sagau, reverse isekai, domestic life/slice of lofe, explicit/sexual (18+ for the nsfw chapters) themes.
SYNOPSIS. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to you.
WARNINGS. eventual smut, harem, angst with comfort.
STATUS. on going//i will try to update as fast and best as i can but i do procrastinate a lot so.. i do have school and work to do so updates may be a bit slow.. i will try my best though!! i do not have a specific update time, i just update whenever I finish a chapter so please bear with me, i wish i had an allocated timetable or something but i just can't fit that into my schedule (posting on a specific time).
EXTRA. i started this series because i needdd to feed my love for reverse isekai fics and i saw that there werent a lot so i was like !!! why not create my own? also, the chapters that had NSFW content in them will have the 🔞 logo beside the chapter name.
- reader is in college (has a part time job)
TAGLIST. open
> RECOMMENDED SONGS WILL BE INCLUDED IN THE CHAPTERS <
“y/n, we will be here for you for however you want us to be, we will leave even if you asked us to just please, please don’t leave us.”
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chapter index
i. chapter one - the start of it all
◇─where you find yourself in a room with 24 handsome men, the thing is.. you know them from the popular game that you even played and spent hundreds of money on.. genshin impact!
ii. chapter two - the morning after
◇─the morning after everything had happened, you decided to do a little bonding session.. which was by watching your favourite movies with them of course!
iii. chapter three - a shopping spree
◇─you decide to go shopping to buy some things for you and the men, you bond by watching movies with them and playing UNO.
iv. chapter four - "you really took took care of us, huh?"
◇─a couple days goes by after meeting the men, all is going good, your daily routine has changed, and the fact that you start work tomorrow too doesn't help anything at all.
v. chapter five - Back to work
◇─you have to return back to work after having your days off, little did you know you would find out something that would absolutely make you feel at unease and that would make you paranoid forever.
MINI FIC - Merry christmas! (wait why are we supposed to say that again?)
◇─celebrate christmas with them!!
vi. chapter six - The stalker
◇─not in a million years did you expect to ever get yourself a stalker, how did you? no idea. but with the sudden help of a woman she manages to find a way to catch the stalker. will you and your friends or well, the men, see her ever again, and will they meet for the good or bad?
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months
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Main Masterlist || Navigation || All works are F!Reader || All images sourced from Pinterest ||
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SONGS THAT SOUND LIKE SEA-FOAM || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader
SYNOPSIS: In which a lone mermaid finds good company with a handsome fisherman who trespasses in her cove. But the word isn't what it used to be...hunting ships patrol the waters.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
FANART: “You’re somethin’ beautiful, y’know that?” & "Mermaid Interpretation" by @thedevillovesflowers
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2. RUN AWAY TO ME || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Blacksmith!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Runaway Bride!Reader
SYNOPSIS: The night started with wine and ended with blood. Racing through the woods after having escaped your wedding, you find a lone homestead in the middle of a rainstorm. Alone, wounded, and bordering on unconsciousness, you have no option but to knock.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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3. BLOOD-STAINED WOOL SPUN AT MIDNIGHT || 18 + Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Werewolf!Ghost x F!Tailor!Reader (Set in Van Helsing Era/Aesthetic)
SYNOPSIS: When you left the town in the year of our Lord, 1897, to buy more wool from the local farmer, the cobblestone streets had come up to meet the hooves of your neighbor's horse.
Along this trip of false hope, the open fields at your sides had led to the backdrop of a brimstone forest; an old shadow seems to loom there. A black thing. A devil with eyes like a burial mound. You were told to fear the Ghost of the Forest, but never had you known you'd be caught in his blackened claws.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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4. BLACK METAL AND BOURBON || 18+ Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Biker/Mechanic!Ghost x F!Bartender!Reader
SYNOPSIS: You've been in this small town for your entire existence, giving up dreams and aspirations to carry on life as a simple bartender despite your hatred of two things: the smell of cigarette smoke and the disrespect from regulars, namely, your ex and his buddies. But on a still-air Sunday, almost overnight, a mechanics shop pops up right across the street - giving sight to new faces and a fresh group of men with a love of motorcycles. One, in particular, seems to only like Bourbon.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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5. TO HUNT A SILVER STAG || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Knight!Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Fae!Princess!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Promised to a greedy king to try and preserve the magic of the land, a princess instead finds herself drawn to a chivalrous knight and his gentle words. But everyone knows magic has a mind of its own.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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6. HOW TO ADAPT TO FIRE || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader
SYNOPSIS: There is an arsonist in your city, and you're going to catch him. As one of the most prolific investigative journalists in the city, you make a lot of enemies the second your papers are released to the public. Your informant - and perhaps something more - in the local fire department makes a point to tell you to be careful.
But everyone knows he's right beside you when the fires start sparking.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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7. MOSS, BONE, AND A FALLING STAR || Mini-Series || Not Started
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PAIRING: Witch Hunter!Price x F!Witch!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Humans have not been kind to you, but they usually are to things that they don't understand. You're offered a deal when a rugged-looking Witch Hunter shows up at your secluded hut. Make him see you for what you truly are in three stories or less. You oblige and give him the limit - a story of moss, of bone, and of a falling star.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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8. VIVAMUS, MORIENDUM EST || Undetermined || Not Started
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PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader (Reincarnation AU)
SYNOPSIS: In every lifetime you made a promise to one another: even if you must die, you will find a way to live together for all of eternity, be that five or a hundred years from now. You'd not broken your promise yet.
CHAPTERS: Undetermined
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thebestofoneshots · 8 months
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tastes | Marauders x Reader
Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Reader
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings: Smut, finger fucкing, oral (male receiving), P in V, lots of praise (especially from Remus), Sirius gets all the love he deserves, consent is sexy, lusty!boys, сreаm piе, they literally can't take their eyes off you.
Prompt: Inspired by the sense of taste. Reader has a very strong gag reflex, so the boys have never asked you to blow them, and you love them for it. But today, you want to taste them.
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tastes is part of The Five Senses: an anthology series where each chapter will be a stand-alone story, inspired by the different ways we have of perceiving the world around us.
18+ readers only (smut under the cut)
Cum Feel The Noize
You had always had pretty strong gag reflex, just brushing your tongue while you brushed your teeth made you want to puкe sometimes, it wasn’t ideal, but it was what you were born with so you settled. 
The boys knew, you’d been friends with them long before you started dating, and you had been pretty vocal about it, really, you were just so comfortable with them around that you didn’t mind talking about those things.
“What about sucking a dicк?” Sirius asked, half teasingly, half because he’d been genuinenly curious. He got elbowed by James after asking, but you just laughed.   
“Nah, it’s fine,” you told James dismissively “In truth, I’ve never done that.” 
“Never, ever? Not even the tip?” Asked James impressed, now curious as well. You shook your head as an answer.
“Not even when you dated that stupid Harland boy?” asked Remus. They all hated Harland because they all liked you, even then, a few months before you started all dating each other.
“Harland?” you asked in disbelief “Hell no! He asked a couple of times but, I just couldn’t do it,” you admitted “I really didn’t want to puкe all over his dicк.” 
“Understandable,” Remus nodded. 
“Yeah, you’d think. That’s why we broke up tho.” 
“What? Shut up!” James said, almost standing straigther.
“No, it’s true!” you said with a nod “He said there were plenty other girls in the market, and that most of them would die just to get the chance to suck him off.”
“And what did you tell him?” Sirius asked. 
“To fuck off,” you said with a laugh “didn’t even like him that much anyway,” you said with a sight, “But he’s so petty, he asked me to go see him in one of the abandoned classrooms to give me back some of my stuff, but he had just gotten a girl to blow him there. So when I arrived–” 
James gasped, he had his mouth open wide, completely shocked.
“–Poor girl, she was so embarrassed ‘cause she thought we were still dating. Which in hindsight, probably makes is worse. Anyway, he tried to go after me and jinxed him.” 
“We thought you stopped dating because he moved away.” 
“Nope, he moved away because the girl told all her friends about it and gave him the worst reputation.” 
Fast forward to now, you had been dating them for almost a year, and they had, never once, asked you to suck them off, not even by accident, which only made you love them even more, making you realize they truly listened, the difference abysmal between them and Harland, who’d asked hundreds of times, and your boys, who actually cared about you and your limits. And since they also had each other to have fun with it, neither of them missed out on getting blowjobs all that often either. Benefits of being in a poly relationship. 
But the boys were always so caring, and so giving, both in and outside of the bedroom, that you really wanted to give back to them. In fact, seeing the way James sucked Remus once, made you want to test it yourself, mouth watering at the thought. You had done your research too, asked your friends about their techniques and paid a lot more attention when they were doing each other, making mental notes of the things they clearly liked and the things they didn’t. For the first time in your life, you actually wanted to try. 
So, on Sirius’ birthday, you thought it’d be your chance. The boy had asked Peter for the room and he happily left the three of them to do their thing while going to bunk with his own girlfriend. Remus had been the one to pick you up at your room with the invisibility cloak that day. 
“You ready luv?” he asked tenderly when you got out of your room, quickly enveloping you in the cloak as he stood behind you.
“Very ready,” you said with a little smirk, which had Remus raise one of his eyebrows. Did you plan something? That’s definitely your “I’ve planned something” tone.
He dipped his head in the crook of your neck and gave it a short whiff “You’re wearing Sirius’ favourite perfume,” he mouthed, you could feel his lips brushing against your skin, already sending warmth to your core. “What else?” 
 You smiled mischievously “Nothing else,” you admitted. 
A rush of blood went straight to his cock when he heard you say that so confidently, and he finally peaked from his spot in your neck, looking through the thin white shirt you were wearing, he could see your nipple perking underneath the fabric, marking it ever so slightly. “Fuck, dove you’re such a tease.” 
You shrugged, turning to press a kiss to his cheek, realizing how blown out his pupils were already, “You know how much Sirius loves it.” 
He slid his hands under your skirt, only feeling the outside of your tight, all the way to your waist, as if trying to feel if you really had nothing underneath at the bottom. “Yeah, he’s not the only one,” he grunted, digging his digits a little, just below your pelvis. You pressed yourself to him a little more, realizing he was already getting turned on, even from such a short interaction, which only fueled you even more, turning completely around you wrapped your fingers on his neck and brought him down for a kiss. He complied, pushing you against a nearby wall as he kissed back, hands still extended above his head to keep the cloak covering the two of you. When you finally separated, you were both panting, his lips were already pink from the stimulation, and he brought one of his hands down to accommodate his pants, they were already making him uncomfortable. 
“Come on handsome,” you told him with a smile, butting your bottom lip for a mere second and pulling at his bicep ever so slightly, “Why don’t we continue the party inside?” 
When you arrived at their room, Sirius was on his bed, sketching something in his notebook while James was setting up the record player. After all the initial plan had been to just chill and listen to music together. But you all knew that wasn’t going to be the end of the story from the moment the suggestion left Remus’ lips. 
You went straight to Siri, pressing a chaste kiss over his mouth as you laid down next to him “Happy birthday Puppy!” 
“That’s like the 10th time today you say that,” James teased. 
“It’s probably just an excuse to snog him,” added Remus. 
You shrugged and leaned in again, pressing another short kiss to Sirius’ soft lips “Happy birthday,” you whispered again. 
Sirius just smiled, he loved when you showered him with attention, he had always had a knack for being the center of it, but when he was the center of yours, it made him soar, “You can snog me without wishing me happy birthday kitten, in fact, you can snog me whenever the hell you want.” 
You laughed at the suggestive little smirk he made and searched with your hand to grab his. Sirius would definitely go crazy with how much attention you were all about to give him. He leaned in a little closer, dipping his head in the crook of your neck as he turned  “You smell nice,” he whispered. 
James almost jumped to the bed, placing the top half of his body over the bottom half of yours, his head looking at you from above your belly, “Don’t act like we aren’t in the room,” he said with a pout, placing a hand over your bare leg. 
“We weren’t,” Sirius said, still from the crook of your neck “We were just giving you a show,” he added in the end, you could feel the smirk in his tone. Remus laughed, still standing in the middle of the room as he took off his sweater, passing it over his head, slowly, Remus was the most patient of the three; unless you were close to the moon.
You took a deep breath, feeling James’ forearm press against your belly as you did, he leaned down over them and noticed. “You’re not wearing a bra today,” he said as he raised just the edge of your shirt to get a peak. 
“And it’s not the only thing I didn’t put on,” you said teasingly. 
Sirius turned to you shocked “Shut up.” 
“Why don’t you see it for yourself,” you said with a smirk. Sirius didn’t think twice as he dipped his hand under your skirt. Unlike Remus, he went straight to your slick, feeling how wet you already were. 
“Bloody hell kitten, you’re soaked,” he said, now his own eyes blown out in lust “Wait, why are you so…?” he turned to Remus, who just shrugged in response, a cheeky smile playing on his face. He narrowed his eyes at him and turned back to you, “fine then… my turn,” he said, lightly pushing James off you as he grabbed you by the waist and placed you on top of him, you were now straddling him, each leg to the side of his. The friction of his pants in your core, only making you all the more turned on, you ground yourself against him, which had him moan, if ever so lightly. James had placed one hand over your tight as he moved to kiss Sirius’ neck. Today was his day, after all. 
You smiled, slowly grinding yourself against the boy one more time before leaning in to kiss him on the lips. Remus was sitting on the bed beside yours, lousily looking at the three of you as he patted himself. After a couple more kisses, you reached your hand under Sirius’ shirt, and both you and James pulled Sirius on a sitting position so you could completely remove it, gently passing it over his head. James didn’t leave him lay back down though, he pressed himself behind him to gain better access to his neck instead. 
You smiled, still kissing Sirius as you fumbled your fingers over the button of his trousers. “Someone’s thirsty,” he teased. 
“You wouldn’t know how much,” you whispered enigmatically. There it is again, Remus thought, she’s onto something. With the help of James, you managed to remove Sirius’ pants too. Playing with the hem of his trousers as you continued to grind onto his leg. Now it was your turn, moving in tandem with James, the two of you managed to lay Sirius back, over James’ chest, who rubbed soft circles on his arms as he watched you grind onto his boyfriend. Sirius was malleable, in fact, at this point, he would let you do whatever the hell you wanted with him, he wasn’t sure he was even still on earth. 
Finally, you pulled his boxers down, pulling back just a little when his thick cock sprang out, pressing against his stomach from the force of the release. You licked your lips but stood back straight, taking your time to throw the boxers somewhere. Remus smiled, you were being fast tonight, maybe he’ll get his turn faster than– 
He lost his train of thought, you had dropped kisses all over Sirius’ stomach and your face was dangerously close to his cock. It wasn’t unusual that you played and rubbed their cocks with your hands, but you usually kept your head a little further away from them. 
He almost completely lost it when he noticed you playing with Sirius’ tights, pressing kisses against them as you spread them a little with your hands. That was a move he knew all too well, he’d done it several times. Finally, when you leaned down and pressed your lips against Sirius’ cock, it was he who jumped out of James’ grasp, Remus crossing the distance that there was in between the two of you with two long strides. 
“Kitten what are you–” Sirius asked, his throat dry. 
“–what do you think?” you said, motioning to his cock. 
“But your gag reflex sweetheart,” James said, he was peering through Sirius’ shoulders. 
Your heart warmth at the boys’ concern, “I wanna try,” you added. 
“Are you sure? You don’t have to do it… If you feel pressured into it because it’s my birthday then–” 
“–It’s not that,” you cut him off “I want to try.”  
“Are you very sure luv?” Remus asked, he had leaned down near the bed to level his head with yours. 
You nodded “Positive.” 
“Sirius can be a little desperate sometimes,” James added “We can help you hold him in place so he doesn’t accidentally jerk too hard into your throat, How does that sound?” 
You peered to look at him through your lashes, Sirius thought you’d never looked more stunning “If Sirius is all right with that.” 
The boy in question nodded excitedly, and James leaned a little to the side, pressing one of his legs, while Remus held him from the other side. 
“We’re ready,” Remus said with a short nod. 
You nodded in response, taking a deep breath, and leaned back down pressing little kisses on Sirius’ soft abdomen before placing your hand over his balls. You’d seen James do it, and Sirius seemed to like it when he did. 
Judging by the way he moaned, he also enjoyed it when you did. After kneading them a little more, and rubbing circles over his tight with your other hand, you placed your hand around his cock, pumping it a couple of times before finally leaning down, placing a light kiss over his tip. The sound Sirius emitted was so sinful, you felt your arousal dripping from your cunt. 
James had moved over the bed, one hand still over Sirius’ leg, the other on his cock, he was watching mouth dry as you leaned down on Sirius. He had only dreamed of you doing such a thing, never daring to ask for it. 
You took a deep breath, and went for a long lick, all the way from shaft to the end. Remus smirked, such a tease, he thought. 
Sirius moaned again, head plopping back into the pillows James had placed when he moved to the side.
Remus hummed “Stop teasing him so much sweetheart,” he said as he placed a hand on the side of Sirius’ face, brushing lightly from his temple to his neck all the while looking tenderly at the boy, “He might just combust in flames if you keep it up.” 
You stroked Sirius one more time, brushing your thumb over his tip the way you knew he liked so much and then you leaned down again, this time wrapping your mouth around his tip. You didn’t go down too deep at first, only really staying around the tip, making sure to test how much you could actually fit into your mouth without it getting uncomfortable. 
You started moving your tongue around his tip, nipping and teasing. Another moan escaped from Sirius’ mouth, James didn’t know where to look as he touched himself, either at you or Sirius’ pleasure-driven face. At some point, you felt a slight buckle of Sirius’ hips, or at least an attempt of it, since both James and Remus had managed to restrain him from moving too much. 
“Please,” he begged. You knew exactly what he wanted. When he got all whinny like that, it was because he wanted you to pick up the pace, either by stroking him faster or bobbing your hips up and down his length. You squeezed slightly with your hand since you knew how much he liked it when you clenched your “tight little pussy” around him. And finally, you started to bob your head up and down, slowly, taking in very little of him in your mouth at first. Testing the waters.
Sirius emitted the kind of groan you only heard of him when he was so deep into you, he couldn’t think of anything else. You then felt Remus’ hand, the one he wasn’t using to hold Sirius’s hip, moving under your skirt. Slowly moving up until he reached the tender flesh of the inside of your tight. And then he went further up, tracing your slit with his long finger. 
“Fuck,” he whispered, “Pads, if you could feel how wet she is at this point… she’s practically dripping.”
Remus knew exactly what he was doing, Sirius was as much into physical pleasure as emotional, much like you were, and Remus was well aware knowing such a thing would set his boyfriend on fire, he wasn’t wrong, you could feel his hips trying to buckle into your mouth again, only to be stopped by the boys’ strong hands.  
Remus did not remove his hand either, he kept playing around your slit, slowly parting with two fingers as you perked your ass just a bit more for easier access, which just had him grin. You moaned when he placed one of his fingers over your clit and started rubbing, Remus had the most confident grip when it came to finger fucking you, and he always delivered. 
You started taking in a bit more of Sirius, forcing yourself a little over what you’d consider your comfort zone. Every moan his noises and Remus’ hands pulled from you, reverberating across his cock and bringing him closer. 
“Sweethea… aaaah, fuck.” Sirius was trying to tell you something, but the way his moans sounded, you knew exactly what he wanted to say. 
Regardless, it was James who took his hand away from his own cock and bought it to caress your back, “Kitten…” he said softly, you eyed him, not stopping the way you moved your mouth around Sirius, which almost got him to lose his train of thought, “Kitten, Sirius is about to come,” he informed. 
You hummed in response, being aware of it already. You knew. Finally, that brought Remus back into the conversation “Wait, luv, does that mean you’re going to…” you hummed again. 
“fuck,” you heard him whisper. She’s gonna swallow, he thought, not being able to keep his eyes off you. 
Sirius was just as impressed, even if he wasn’t thinking much at this point, he had brought his hand down, and he toyed with your hair before settling it just over the back of your neck, he wasn’t pushing though, he was rubbing soft circles with his thumb, even amongst all the madness you’d brought to him, he was still thinking of your comfort. 
You drove your head up and down three more times, and then you felt it, warm and a little salty, spurring into your mouth. And as you had planned you swallowed it all, helping Sirius ride through his orgasm by still bobbing your head a couple of times. 
“It’s ok sweetheart,” you heard James, he still had his hand on your back “He’s done, you can stop.” 
You did, slowly taking your mouth out and letting your head fall over Sirius’ belly, making sure to keep your ass up so Remus wouldn’t stop toying with your pussy, which he wasn’t planning on either way. Sirius looked at you, breath heavy as he wrapped his hand over your cheek, “That was incredible sweets, and for your first time.” 
You pressed a soft, gentle kiss to his stomach, and then turned your eyes back to him “I’d been observing you…” you said. Being stoped by your own moan as Remus drove a finger inside of you “taking notes of what each of my boys likes best.” 
“fuck you’re so tight,” the boy whispered, only James heard, you and Sirius were too wrapped in your own little bubble. 
“Have you now?” he said with a teasing smile, “you might become the best of the three,” he whispered, it earned him a smack from James, who had been attentively watching the way Remus finger fucked you, imagining how it would look like without the skirt. 
“Next time you beg for me to blow you after a game I’ll tell you to go beg elsewhere,” he teased. Which earned a chuckle from you and Sirius. 
“I want to see,” Sirius added, motioning to Remus’ hand under your skirt. 
“That makes two of us,” James said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into a sitting position, you whined in response, almost crying at the loss of Remus’ expert fingers. 
“It’s ok baby, we’re just gonna reposition,” James cooed, and he started to unbutton your shirt as Remus got on the bed, taking off his shirt in one swift motion before helping James remove yours. The boys moved in tandem, smoothly as if they knew exactly what the other was about to do next, which perhaps they did, since they knew each other so well. Once the shirt was off, you felt the cold air perk your nipples, giving both boys sitting in front of you their own little show. While that was going on, Remus was the one to unbutton and unzip your skirt, lifting you up towards him as James pulled it off. 
Remus placed you in between his legs, enjoying the feeling of the soft bare skin of your back flushing against his torso. He hadn’t yet removed his pants, but you could feel how hard he was under them, so hard it’s gotta be painful.
But Remus had only two moods, either being patient or being desperate; today he was the first one, so when you rocked your hips back, trying to get a reaction, he just held you down “Steady on sweetheart, let us enjoy you first.” 
And they were going to enjoy you, while Remus spread you wide open, carefully passing your feet over his legs so they would stay in position, James had leaned in to spread soft kisses on your neck. All of you facing Sirius, who was just smiling darkly at the sight. 
Remus was slow at first, passing a hand over your inner tight, massaging the soft skin before getting closer to your slit. Even then, he just massaged around it “Remus!” you whined, which only earned him a chuckle. 
“What is it luv?” he asked, playing dumb. 
“Yeah, what is it?” James asked, unlaching his lips from your neck and turning to you, joining the teasing. 
“Please!” you added, grabbing onto Remus’ hand and placing it on your slit. 
Finally, he complied, tracing his strong fingers over your slit, still impossibly wet. James had already moved on to kiss one of your nipples, nipping and teasing the tender skin. Sucking it into peaks before laying it back with his tongue. One of his hands had been placed in the small of your neck, and the other on your other breast, making sure not to let it skip on the fun. 
“How are you three so goddamned beautiful?” you heard Sirius mumble as he enjoyed the view. 
This time around, after toying with your clit once more, Remus placed two fingers inside instead of one, which had you gasp, but he just smiled devilishly as he thrusted them in and out, eliciting one of his favourite sounds in the world, your moans. While lost in bliss, you felt James’ cock brush against your skin, which made you remember how forgotten you had left him tonight, so you reached out and brushed your hand around it, brushing your thumb over the tip a couple of times, earning a couple of moans from him. 
“Yes, please,” he whispered, and you complied, finally starting to stroke him. James did not stop the kissing as you continued to move your hand up and down his length, only moaning your name a couple of times, and squeezing your breast a little tighter when he was close. 
You were just as close, you realized Remus had been not only finger fucking you, but preparing you as well, slowly stretching you out with the help of his two fingers. Remus was big, and without stretching, he just didn’t fit in. And if he was stretching you out, then it meant he knew he’d get your wet little cunt tonight and it only fueled him more and turned you on even more in return. You buckled your hips against his fingers a couple of times, and his pace became faster. Just like your stroking around James’ cock. 
James came first, thrusting into your hand as his cum dripped all over it, finally unlatching himself from your nipples and breathing heavily as he stared dumbly at you and Remus, lips parted and slightly red, just the sight of it made you buckle your hips against Remus’ hand once again. He was about to take his wand to clean your hand with it, when Remus used his free hand to bring it over to his mouth and ran his tongue from your wrist bone to your fingers, licking most James’ cum along, which James swore made his cock twitch again. 
And then Remus turned to you, not slowing down the pace on your pussy, but looking as calm as unbothered as if he were a teacher asking a student for an answer “Do you want to taste him too, sweetheart?” 
You nodded, and he pushed your hand towards your mouth, carefully placing the soft section between your thumb and your wrist right over your lips, it was the only section still covered with James’ cum, and you slowly brought your lips around it, sucking carefully on your hand and letting your lips slowly go back to their place as Remus’ pulled your hand out. James was a little saltier than Sirius, but also relatively sweet.
“fuck… i’m gonna end up getting hard again,” you heard James’ groan, which had Sirius chuckle as he pulled the boy towards him. 
“Come Prongs, enjoy the show with me,” he said with a smile. James leaned in and gave Sirius a short kiss before leaning on his shoulder. 
“All right sweetheart, your turn,” Remus said as he brought his index finger from the other hand to your clit, you leaned your head back on his shoulder, buckling your hips against him with more conviction now that you weren’t distracted by anything else. 
His pace quickened and you moaned and whined under his expert hands “Hmmm… please Rem, I’m about to…” 
“It’s ok baby, be good and come all over my fingers,” he cooed, and you did, harshly pulling your head back as you allowed him to finger fuck you to oblivion. “There we go, such a good girl for me, isn’t that right?” he praised, as he brought his hand, still wet with your slick over to his mouth and sucked sinfully over the two fingers that were inside of you, moaning as he tasted your juices. He then turned back to you again. “Now, are you gonna allow me to fuck that tight little pussy of yours tonight or do you feel too tired already?” 
You wanted nothing more than for Remus to stretch you up just right, so you nodded, head still a little foggy from the high, “Please Remus,” you added for good measure, moving your hips back just to feel him press against you one more time. 
Finally, you moved to the side, allowing the boy to take both his pants and underwear off before he laid down on the bed, Remus knew it was easier for you to be the one to ride him, at least at first –and when he was the first one– since that way you had a little more control over how big he was, and he was always more than happy to let you do it, in fact, he quite enjoyed the way your breast bounced as you bobbed up and down his length. And he knew the boys liked it just as much, so he strategically laid in a way so that they would get a good view of you. 
You slowly straddled him, placing both knees on each side of his hip before rubbing yourself against his cock a couple of times, causing him to moan this time. You were still so fucking wet.
Eventually, you lifted yourself up and lined him with your entrance. He placed both of his hands around your hips, to help hold you up as you slowly pushed yourself down, moaning as you went as deep as you could. Remus had responded to your tightness with a grunt, truth be told he’d been dreaming of it from the moment he went to pick you up. 
You started bobbing up and down his length, slow at first, but picking up that pace as your walls got used to his size. Remus had his hands on your waist, helping you move easily as he started to thrust up into you, reaching the right spot. “fuck… yes,” you said breathily as he continued thrusting.
“So fucking tight,” Remus breathed as he helped you ride him, completely focused on you, on your parted lips, your soft huffs and moans; you were absolutely entrancing in the way you moved your hips on him, “You’re taking me in so well sweetheart…” 
You moaned, and clenched around him, which just caused him to buckle against you even harder. That got you to whimper and you brought both of your palms to lay over his shoulders, to hold yourself better as you continued to rock your hips on the boy, “Baby… if you keep that up I’m not gonna last,” he added, and just to tease him, you clenched again, eliciting a moan from the boy so sinful, it fueled you to keep moving, faster this time around.
“So beautiful, aren’t they Prongs?” you heard Sirius say, almost not quite registering it with the way Remus’ cock trusted into you right after. The other boy hummed in response, not able to take his eyes off the way you were moving. 
When Remus was close, he switched the two of you around, laying you flat on the bed as he brought one of his hands over to your clit, “Be a good girl and come for me one last time sweetheart,” he said as he continued to thrust. Holding back his own orgasm, he wanted to hear you moan his name as he came. 
And after a few more flicks and circles of his thumb, with his pace quickening, you came, “hmm Remus…” you whispered as he continued to thrust inside of you, the way your walls clenched around tipping the boy over the edge, he had hold it back so long, he practically grunted into your ear and spiled inside of you.
Eventually, he pulled back, staring at your pussy as he panted, you knew what he wanted and so you squeezed, allowing the thick white liquid to spill from your inside, dripping from your entrance to the back of your ass. Remus really liked to see the evidence of fucking you, somehow satisfying his most primal desires, or so he’d told you once. 
Remus brought one of his hands back to your cunt, you shivered with the contact since you were still slightly overstimulated, but he didn’t budge, using his middle and index to gather some of your combined juices, he angled his head cockily, “Are you gonna taste me tonight as well sweetheart?” he asked. 
You smiled wickedly, using your elbows to prop yourself up and leaning in towards the boy’s hand, not bothering to answer as you opened your mouth and wrapped it around both of his fingers, making sure to let your lips pull as you slowly hollowed your mouth and pulled yourself back, licking your lips as you completely separated from the boy. Remus had not been expecting that, his cocky demeanour faltering as his mouth dried. Remus was the sweetest of the three. 
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A/N: this is the third piece of smut I’ve written so far, and omg this definitely got out of hand. Regardless… I do feel like I’m getting the hang of it. Maybe? A little bit? At least I don’t feel the cringe, anymore. Saying that, I do still stop myself every now and then and wonder “what the hell am I writing?” In a “I’d be burned in the stake for imagining these things” sort of way haha! Either way, I’m having fun, and that’s what matters!
The Five Senses was born as a way for me to practice writing smut for my brand new Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leve it in the comment below. I absolutely love reading your comments <3
Taglist: @lillysanura @sofiacblair @noommoon69
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Yona of the Dawn: Chapter 165 ~ My Favorite Bits (SPOILERS)
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Yes, yes she is 😊
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I wouldn’t do that if I were you...
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You’ve done it now...
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He will kick your face in in 0.5 seconds
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Ugh 💚💚💚💚💚
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So graceful 😍😍😍😍😍
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NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭
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He fought so hard 😭😭😭😭
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This is the worst situation for them to be in 😭😭😭
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Basically, “Hak’s going to murder you.”
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Yay! Algira is back!
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zvaigzdelasas · 15 days
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[BBC is UK State Media]
Truong My Lan is charged with taking out $44bn (£35bn) in loans from the Saigon Commercial Bank. Prosecutors say $27bn may never be recovered.[...]
The evidence is in 104 boxes weighing a total of six tonnes [!!!]. Eighty-five defendants are on trial with Truong My Lan, who denies the charges. She and 13 others face a possible death sentence.
"There has never been a show trial [sic] like this, I think, in the communist era," says David Brown, a retired US state department official with long experience in Vietnam. "There has certainly been nothing on this scale."
The trial is the most dramatic chapter so far in the "Blazing Furnaces" anti-corruption campaign led by the Communist Party Secretary-General, Nguyen Phu Trong.
A conservative [sic] ideologue [sic] steeped in Marxist theory, Nguyen Phu Trong believes that popular anger over untamed corruption poses an existential threat to the Communist Party's monopoly on power. He began the campaign in earnest in 2016 after out-manoeuvring the then pro-business prime minister to retain the top job in the party.
The campaign has seen two presidents and two deputy prime ministers forced to resign, and hundreds of officials disciplined or jailed. Now one of the country's richest women could join their ranks.[...]
Although Vietnam is best known outside the country for its fast-growing manufacturing sector, as an alternative supply chain to China, most wealthy Vietnamese made their money developing and speculating in property.
All land is officially state-owned. Getting access to it often relies on personal relationships with state officials. Corruption escalated as the economy grew, and became endemic.
By 2011, Truong My Lan was a well-known business figure in Ho Chi Minh City, and she was allowed to arrange the merger of three smaller, cash-strapped banks into a larger entity: Saigon Commercial Bank.
Vietnamese law prohibits any individual from holding more than 5% of the shares in any bank. But prosecutors say that through hundreds of shell companies and people acting as her proxies, Truong My Lan actually owned more than 90% [!!!] of Saigon Commercial.
They accuse her of using that power to appoint her own people as managers, and then ordering them to approve hundreds of loans to the network of shell companies she controlled.
The amounts taken out are staggering. Her loans made up 93% [!!!] of all the bank's lending.
According to prosecutors, over a period of three years from February 2019, she ordered her driver to withdraw 108 trillion Vietnamese dong, more than $4bn (£2.3bn) in cash from the bank, and store it in her basement.
That much cash, even if all of it was in Vietnam's largest denomination banknotes, would weigh two tonnes.[!!!!!][...]
David Brown believes she was protected by powerful figures who have dominated business and politics in Ho Chi Minh City for decades. And he sees a bigger factor in play in the way this trial is being run: a bid to reassert the authority of the Communist Party over the free-wheeling business culture of the south.
"What Nguyen Phu Trong and his allies in the party are trying to do is to regain control of Saigon, or at least stop it from slipping away.[...]
faster growth in Vietnam almost inevitably means more corruption [sic]. Fight corruption too much [sic], and you risk extinguishing a lot of economic activity.
10 Apr 24
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midnightsun-if · 8 months
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DEMO — Chapter One: Part One [34K Words] — 11/12/23
FAQ || PINTEREST || SPOTIFY || DISCORD
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Aurelian Academy, the pinnacle of evolution within the supernatural world; the first landmark to be erected after the Dark Ages— the time when supernatural races still lived within the shadows of the mortal world.
You’ve been prepared to go for your entire life— all one hundred years of it. Being the youngest child of a ruling vampire clan didn’t give you much choice in the matter. Going to Aurelian meant taking the next big step in your immortal life regardless.
Will you be able to prove yourself to your parents? To your siblings? Will you be able to uncover the mysteries that surround the ancient school?
Or will everything vanish as the midnight sun approaches?
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Create your character. Customize your name, potential nickname, gender (male/female/non-binary), sexuality, appearance, and hobbies. (Note: The MC is a Vampire and is 100 Years Old.)
Choose from 3 Classes— Charmer, Shadow-Kin, or Warrior.
How does your character feel about humans? Are they simply ants that you don’t bother with? Potential allies? An intriguing conundrum?
Do you enjoy the modern world? Or do you miss the simplicity of the past?
Romance 1 of 8 potential romances.
Explore Aurelian Academy and uncover the secrets that litter the ancient halls. Just make sure you don’t miss class while doing so.
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Koda Kingston — [He/Him] — Bear-Shifter — He’s a mass of muscle and warmth, eyes filled with good humor and overall joy. Might not have a lot going on upstairs, but he’s definitely got the spirit. [Male MCs Only]
Scarlett Voltaire — [She/Her] — Vampire — Cold as ice, ruthless to any that oppose her, with a flair of heated contempt at the people who annoy her, Scarlett is the middle child to the oldest ruling family within the vampiric race. [Female MCs Only]
Cyrus/Cyra Aurelia — [He/Him or She/Her] — Phoenix — Heir to the Eclipse Throne; they’re the eldest child of House Aurelia, Founders of Aurelian Academy. They’re the pinnacle of what an heir should be: dutiful, strong-willed, and loyal above all else.
Quinn Grant — [He/Him or She/Her] — Wolf-Shifter — An individual that’s been whispered about within the halls of your home; a prospected mate in the event that both your warring families wish to unite. Now that you’re meeting them, you may be able to see if that’ll ever become a reality.
Caden Randall — [He/Him or She/Her] — Phantom — Appearing on a random night five years before, they’re not exactly what someone comes to expect when thinking about a phantom: scared of their own shadow, fretful, and a complete neat freak. They’re tasked with ensuring your stay at Aurelian Academy goes smoothly.
Sloane Addams — [He/Him or She/Her] — Wolf-Shifter — A wolf-shifter without a pack, disgraced in the deepest way possible, they don’t seem to be that overjoyed at the prospect of attending Aurelian Academy, but that doesn’t mean they’re not set on proving themself and finding a pack once more.
Blake Herrera — [He/Him or She/Her] — Demon-Hybrid — Your best friend (and potential FWB). With a flirtatious air, a rebellious spirit, and an affinity at finding trouble, they’re a demon that takes a bit to get used to.
Reginald/Regina Presley — [He/Him or She/Her] — Human — A scholarship student to Aurelian Academy; the first of many that may be attending. With a thirst for knowledge, along with a devil-may-care attitude, they’ll try their best to fit in. Of course, that’s easier said than done. As they’re the first human to ever be admitted as a student.
PINTEREST (OTHER) || MALE ROS FCS || FEMALE ROS FC || FAMILY FCS || ROS SKIN TONES
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renee-writer · 8 months
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Out of Time Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-five
AO3
Are you bloody kidding me!” She is livid, her face red and her arms firmly crossed.
 
“Afraid not. What else was we to do? We couldn’t have known and they are children.”
 
“Pediatrician. You see children and assume they are innocent , good, and need help.”
 
“Most are.” He defends himself.
 
She acknowledges this with a shrug. “He isn’t. We need to decide what to do with him.”
 
“Agree. A trial? If we wish to build a functioning society, he needs to be tried, right?”
 
“Makes sense. We have no barristers though.”
 
“Nor judge. But some smart people here. I think we can make it work.”
 
“We need a meeting.”
 
The adults all gather around. They still fit in the Great Room but barely. They will need a bigger space, something they will have to consider.
 
“I am going to need a teacher’s aid. There is a lot of children here.” Mary starts out, “with a lot of age ranges.”
 
“I know that they were living as a family.  We will need to slowly integrate them into our society.” Jenny adds.
 
“We also need to discuss sex education with them. Babies shouldn’t continue to be born, one after the other.” From Heather.
 
“All that is important but we have a bigger issue.” Claire gets their attention, “one of the children is a threat.” A mummer goes through the group.
 
“Who?” Ian demands.
 
“Harry.” Jamie explains to them all Lynn told him.
 
“Kick him out!” Danny seems to speak for everyone. There are nods and verbal agreements all around.
 
Jamie holds up his hands. Slowly the room calms down.  “Maybe but first the lad needs a chance to give his side. We will hold a trial.”
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thenerdygirlexp · 11 months
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#Riverdale Chapter One Hundred And Twenty-Five: Hoop Dreams S7Ep8 Preview via @stacyamiller85 @CW_Riverdale #RiverdaleFinalSeason #RiverdaleSeason7
Riverdale returns for Season 7 on March 29, 2023 . Continue reading Untitled
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