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#fun fact the idea for this post has been in my drafts for over a year
luvwestwood · 4 months
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"Thank You For Your Service" - Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna
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4,341 words.
warnings. nsfw, firemen! toji/sukuna, food-play, oral sex, p in v, mildly dubious con, double penetration, unprotected sex, throat fucking, rough play/sex, praising kink, creampie, degradation/dumbification (slut, whore)
notes. as an owner of your own independent bakery, you deliver your local firemen some sweet treats as a 'thanks' for their service. although a few of the men at the station decide to have a little fun with you. aka toji and sukuna fuck you silly and stuff you with their cum like a profiterole. also this has been in my draft for ages and I wanted to post it before I get back to classes 😭💀
banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig
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After successfully balancing the cash register, you glance over to the clock on the wall that reads sharply, '4:30' in the afternoon.
The rest of the staff, aka the young students you've hired to work in your bakery were long gone, as you had let them off quite early today.
You walked over to the display fridges to see what's remained of the cakes from today. As expected, there were a good few things left such as profiteroles and small dessert cakes.
"Mmm, maybe I should give these to the firemen down at the station."
You smiled as you came up with the sustainable idea to gift the local fire station a box of sweet treats as a thank you for their service. I mean, who wouldn't want free cakes?
You hummed as you tied the pink ribbon over the box. Hopefully you put enough in there, you knew that those working at the fire station were hardworking people, so they needed a lot to refuel.
Glancing to the clock again, only fifteen minutes have passed. You decided it was time to make your way to the fire station. You made sure everything was left prepared for the opening staff tomorrow. Grabbing your coat from the staff room, you took the rest of your belongings, and the nicely wrapped box, making your way to the fire station.
The walk wasn't long, as the station was only located down the avenue. They put the station in a place to make sure it was accessible for everyone. It was convenient for you at this moment too.
Coming to the front of the fire station, you were met with the garage shutters open. You weren't sure if you should just walk in through there, or go around to the visitors entrance. The lights were on though, and you could hear a faint chatter coming from the inside.
Deciding to take a peek, you could see two men sitting in chairs and talking, which you assumed were the firemen on duty today.
You couldn’t really make out their faces, but you could tell one had coral hair, the other, a dark black. At the same time, you mentally slapped yourself for freezing in one spot, wondering why you were unable to move.
Your eyes scanned their bodies, the muscular physique they owned had only been complimented by the fitted navy shirt they were wearing. You could tell both had put in the work at the gym. For once, you wished you were in a burning building right now.
Suddenly, the coral haired man looked in your direction, and by now you could make out some strange tattoos on his face. You gasp, startled at the fact he had caught you staring for awhile like some idiot. Curious, the raven haired man turns his head as well, and speaks.
"Well.. what do we have here?" he continued, "You lost, doll?" his voice so deep, it only went straight through your ears, down to your pussy.
By now, you had the attention of the two men, and it sort of felt belittling in a way. Part of you wanted to turn around and leave, as if nothing happened. Or maybe you could act like you walked into the wrong place.
Gulping, you clutched onto the corners of the box out of nervousness. "No.. I work at the local bakery down the block. I came here to uhm...” Your voice trails off, you had forgotten what to say.
The coral haired one butts into the conversation.
"Oh Toji, you've made her all nervous. She's so soft spoken now." He motions his hand for you to come closer, the so called 'Toji' rolling his eyes at what the other had said.
Hesitant, you stepped through the garage entrance, now hearing it close behind you as you walked closer to the two men. I guess there’s no turning back now..
You still didn't know what the coral haired one was called.
As you finally stood in front of them, they respectfully did the same, standing from the chairs they were just on.
Your stomach churned as you noticed the difference between your heights, the men now towering over you had only made the nauseous feeling worse. It had caused you to look up at them, like some lost puppy. Am I really this sex deprived?
You could have sworn that you felt something purr down there as the so-called Toji crosses his arms, his massive biceps on show. His navy fitted shirt practically sculpted over his muscles.
Begging to get out of this place that made it more difficult to withstand each minute, you spoke first.
“I work at the bakery down the street,” you continued after a breath, “..and I just wanted to give you these goodies as a thank you for your service to this city.”
Wanting to compensate for discomforting you earlier, Toji speaks. “Ain’t that sweet? S’kuna, take the box and put it behind me on the table.”
Sukuna, gently takes the box from your grasp. You felt your face warm up as his more bigger, calloused hands made contact with yours. He smiled at you, possibly for a silent thanks. You couldn't help but do the same.
Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you blushed. Flattered that these men were praising you. “Oh, it’s nothing really..” you slowly took a step back. “Anyways, I better get going.”
Toji had only kept his eyes on you, as if he were to devour you at any moment. Leaning against the table behind him, Toji didn't dare to look at anything else in the garage. Sukuna was busy on the other hand, toying with the pink ribbon on the box.
“..Leavin’ already? Isn't that a shame, I thought that you yourself came with these desserts.” Toji snickered, looking at Sukuna behind his shoulder for a response.
Your lashes fluttered, in utter shock you were speechless.
Sukuna, could only laugh at Toji’s cheeky joke that was laced with filth. His own eyes watched you as he sucked the cake’s cream off his fingertips.
Awkwardly laughing, you brush off what just happened. “..I really.. need to get going. I have a bus to catch.” You lied, thinking that it would be able to get you out of here.
“C’mon, it’s not everyday we get the opportunity to share these cakes with a pretty girl. Right, ‘kuna?”
“Yeah, today’s our lucky day.” Sukuna hums, his sentence ending with a smirk.
Biting your lip, you thought about it for a moment. I mean, there wouldn’t be anything else for you to do as soon as you come home.
You knew you were going to regret this, but part of you wanted to stay. I mean, what could go wrong? “Mmm, okay fine, I guess I have a few minutes to spare..”
Toji grins, the scar on his mouth moving with his lips as you walk back closer to the two. "I promise, we'll make the most of it."
He stands back from the table, casually grabbing you by the waist and swiftly setting you atop the table as if you were a doll. You could only hiccup, taken aback by his sudden gesture. You immediately tug down on your skirt due to it rising up just now.
Flustered and warm, you made the sensible decision to take off your coat. Toji only takes it from your possession, setting the coat down on a chair nearby.
Your legs dangled off the edge of the table, slowly swinging back and forth, taking a few breaths to calm your nerves as you watch the men’s next move.
Toji stood in front, facing you, almost between your legs as he reached over to the box of desserts on your right side, grabbing one of the few cream cakes.
Sukuna on the other hand, makes small talk with you. “You make these yourself, beautiful?”
“Oh no, not just by myself. I have a few other staff at my bakery who of course help out.”
He nods slowly in approval, wiping the rest of the ganache off his hands using the pants of his cargo overalls.
You bit your lip, asking a sudden question out of curiosity . “Can I ask, where’s the rest of your crew?.. Is it just you two?”
Toji, busy taking a bite of the cake rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t matter right now,” the question stays unanswered as he changed topics, “God, the cream in this- whatever the fuck this is- tastes great. What you call these again?”
"It's called a profiterole," You watched as Toji took a huge bite, licking the cream off the corners of his mouth.
He uses his finger to swipe a small dollop of the cake’s cream onto his fingertips, bringing it closer to your mouth.
“Here, try it for yourself, It’s the best thing I’ve had.”
Does he expect me to suck it off his finger just like that..?
You knew better, this man was a stranger. Should you really be going around casually sucking on men's fingers? “Oh, I don’t know if I should-”
“Don’t leave me hangin’ doll! creams gonna slide off my finger..”
You shyly gabbed onto his hand, sucking the cream off his fingertip. Toji would be lying if he said that a tent didn’t just form in his cargos. He could feel his cock straining against his pants, begging to come out.
"'Atta girl.." Toji purred as he felt your hot mouth wrap around his finger.
He could only imagine what it would be like if you were to suck your own juices off his fingers after they had just been inside you.
This whole time, Sukuna was quietly watching everything unfold. He could feel a tinge of jealousy wash through him, angered at the fact that Toji was all handsy with you, and poor Sukuna couldn’t get a turn.
His index finger left your lips with a pop, his eyes never leaving yours. You heard Sukuna shuffle around with the box, his footsteps coming close to both where you and Toji were.
He gently pushed Toji aside, and unfortunately the raven haired sex fanatic took offense to that, Toji stabbing daggers into the back of Sukuna's head as he replaced his spot.
You shivered as Sukuna slithered his one hand onto your bare leg, the other hand holding another one of the cakes.
"How 'bout you share this one with me? Say ahh.." He brings the cake closer to your face, your face heating up from his hand slowly caressing the velvety skin on your thigh.
You grabbed onto his hand to stop it, "I'm really full, thank you th-"
Sukuna's hand suddenly moved down to your chest, smearing cake all over your blouse. The rest of the cake falling onto your skirt.
You jittered as you felt the cold cream manage to dribble down your sternum behind the fabric, a high pitch gasp escaping your lips out of discomfort.
"Oh my.." he continued with a devilish grin, "My hand slipped."
You gasped, your blouse now all ruined with red velvet cake and buttercream. "It's.. okay.. I'm heading home anyways."
"No, no-“ Toji behind him stepped in, "We gotta do something about that."
You tried to reassure them; using your hands as support to try hop off the table, "Guys, I promise it's nothing seriou-" but unfortunately Sukuna grabs the side of your thighs, setting you back on the table.
"Yeah no," thinking, Sukuna crosses his arms. "We gotta take that top off. In fact, take everything off."
Toji smirked, and let out a laugh. "I agree,"
Sukuna's large hands reached for the buttons of your blouse, pulling the top apart, the remaining fragments thrown to the other side of the garage.
The tiny buttons fly everywhere as you wince at the sight that unfolded before your eyes. You were able to see the evident change in the two men's demeanor as their eyes landed on the black lacy bra that was now on show.
"Ah-" Sukuna cooed, "She got some between her tits. Get this girl some tissue."
Toji walked around the garage in search of a tissue roll, and you watched him like a hawk, using your arms to cover your chest. "Can't seem to find any 'round here.."
Unable to form a sentence, you gape your mouth open at Toji, then to Sukuna.
"Well that's too bad.." he reaches for your arms, pulling them apart to expose your cake-stained chest back to him. “I wouldn’t mind licking it off.”
“Wait- I don’t think that’s-“ you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this badly right now.
“Shh…” His hands snake down your chest to your abdomen, gently pushing you to lie against the table.
Your nipples go hard due to the contact of your back with the table’s cold surface, luckily they weren’t able to see that.
You felt as Sukuna’s wet tongue touches your stomach, slowly gliding up towards your cleavage that was stained with cream. You gasp, a breathy moan escaping your lips. That was enough to tell them both that you wanted this as much as they did.
You immediately grab onto his hair, and you could feel the smirk form against your skin.
You heard Toji’s footsteps come closer to your side of the table, he was suspiciously quiet for the time being.
Sukuna would only look up at you as he licked off the creamy residue all over your chest. The warmth from his tongue was ticklish, but this scene arousing enough to have a pool form between your legs.
“Think we gotta take this tiny skirt off too..” you felt him roughly grab on your skirt to slide it off, but not strong enough to rip it apart.
You could only clamp your thighs together, as the rest of your garments were stripped of you, the outcome being you all flustered that you were so exposed in-front of the two men.
Sukuna uses his hand to force your legs open, his head moving between your legs.
Until you felt another pair of hands clutch onto your panties and- rip!
You shudder as your bare pussy was met with the cold air of the garage, hoping to feel Sukuna’s warm, wet mouth but you were mistaken.
It was more cake.
Toji had smeared a Victoria-sponge dangerously below your lower abdomen.
Toji could only palm himself through his pants as he watches Sukuna devour the cake that was making its way towards your clit.
His tongue made its way to your dripping hole, slowly fucking into you back and forth.
“T-that feels.. so good..” you breathe out, Sukuna’s cock straining against the fabric of his pants as he heard this.
Unable to watch anymore, Toji stops palming himself through his pants. He makes his way to the box of desserts, disassembling a jam donut, scooping the strawberry glaze into his hands.
Horny, and jealousy filling his body like mad, he walks behind the table where your head was almost hanging off.
He eagerly unzips his cargos with an unoccupied hand, grabbing for his cock that has been nothing but a nuisance to him these past few minutes.
Too busy moaning in pleasure, you looked up to Toji, your vision of him upside down as you were laid against the table.
You could only watch as Toji’s heavy, thick cock slaps against your forehead, his jam covered hand wrapping around the base and making a mess of it on his length.
You felt his hand smear the strawberry residue all over your chest again, which was most likely for Sukuna to be able to lick.
“Better open wide you slut, or else it won’t fit.” You felt Toji’s hand grab onto your jaw, forcing mouth to open wider.
You moan as his cock fills your mouth so full, the sweet jam from the donut coating your taste buds. Toji wraps his hands around your neck, his two thumbs caressing your throat as he fucked his cock into it.
He groans, “Fuck, just like that..” throbbing as he felt the outline of his cock form against the skin of your throat. Squelching noises could only be heard as he staggeringly rut his hips back and forth.
You could hear Toji grunting above you from the sensation of the vibrations going to straight to his cock as you moaned. You felt Sukuna on the other end lapping at your clit, fucking you with two fingers of his fingers at the same time.
Taking a minute to close your eyes, you indulged in the pleasure you were receiving at both ends. At the same time, you were unable to tell who ripped your bra off you.
Toji pulls his cock away from your throat, leaving you to gasp for air. You shut your eyes tightly, disappointed at the empty feeling you were left with. Warm spit trickled down your face, Toji caressing your cheek but only to slap in after.
Toji doesn’t forget to plant a wet kiss on your lips before pulling away. You whimper as he leaves your side, but only this time he starts walking over to Sukuna’s end.
Sukuna pulled away from your dripping holes too, you wince and moan, praying that this isn’t the final moment that they’d have hands on you. You were too scared that the fun was cut short.
Using your elbows to prop yourself up, you watch the two men, speechless. You try to use this opportunity to catch your breath, but your head only falls back down onto the table. You stay sprawled out on the table, looking up at the bright lights of the garage.
“Feel like it’s time to stuff some cock in that pussy, don’t cha think?” Toji speaks, voice raspy from groaning.
“I think so too. But I’m fucking her first,” Sukuna replies.
A disagreeing Toji snaps back. “Nah, I want to.”
“Aren’t you forgetting we can both fuck her at the same time?” Sukuna suggests, your eyes widening at the thought of two men stuffing you full of cock at the same time.
You could almost predict that they could break you into two, and you have no idea how big any of them are yet. You use your elbows to prop yourself up again, your face showing an expression of disbelief. “I- I can’t do that.. I don’t think I can.”
Of course, they'd hardly take that as an answer. “We’ll see that for ourselves.”
You felt Sukuna grab onto your thighs once more, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you towards him. He effortlessly picks you up, carrying you over his shoulder and walking towards what seemed like one of the fire trucks.
You heard a door open, Sukuna placed you onto a longer leather seat that was behind the driver in the truck cab.
Hearing a door open behind you, Toji follows inside, crawling onto the same leather seat. He lays back, hands pumping his cock as he watches you from the other side of the seat.
Dazed, you could only immediately crawl onto Toji’s lap, straddling him. He grins, his hands squeezing onto the soft skin of your tits and fondling as you waited for Sukuna to join.
Sukuna climbs onto the seat but this time behind you. Toji slightly moves his head to the side, taking a peek at Sukuna. Too bad, Sukuna was already busy fucking your ass with one of his fingers, making sure you were ready to be stuffed of his cock.
Jealous, Toji grips onto the doughy skin on your hips, aligning his tip with your dripping cunt before slowly sliding in.
You let out a long string of moans and curses, as you felt his thick length stretch you out as you sink down onto his cock.
“God, you feel so good around my cock. ‘S like your pussy’s made for it.”
Hearing a zip behind you, you disregarded it, as you were still trying to adjust to Toji’s size. This was cut short as you were caught by surprise by Sukuna filling you up with his own cock, this time in your ass. He was thick, but not thick as Toji. Although the length made up for it, you would think that he was all the way in but in reality it was only half.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as both of their cocks were stuffed deeply in both of your holes.
Your hands clutched onto the fabric of Toji’s compression shirt, wrinkling it all together.
Toji placed his soles flat onto the seat, using this support to harshly thrust into you upwards more faster than before as Sukuna behind staggered into you at a more slowed pace. Although he wanted you bad, he made sure to be gentle. He just wanted to indulge every inch of you.
Toji on the other hand, bottomed into you balls deep, his thumb cheekily creeping over to your clit, rubbing in continuous circles as they both fucked into you.
“Fucking slut,” Sukuna spits out, voice shaky as the plush flesh of your ass only clenched around him. “Both holes stuffed full of men’s cocks who you don’t know?”
Sukuna reached for your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling you back against his chest.
You whimpered, snaking one of your hands behind to his nape. Sukuna leaned in for a kiss, only to pepper more down your neck to your collarbone.
Toji kept his pace, which as quite impressive. You moaned back into Sukuna’s cheek, feeling a knot twist and form in the pit of your stomach.
“I-It’s too much- I can’t…” Your hand leaves the back of his neck, moving up higher to clutch on his coral hair as the immense pleasure had only washed through you.
Toji below you speaks, “You think we should let her cum?”
Slapping your face as he started to slow down, he could see you were drunk of their cocks. Fortunately, Sukuna was unable to see this as he was busy behind.
Toji thrusted into you balls deep each time in a consecutive pattern, bullying your cervix as your body jolted up and down along with your tits.
Sukuna moved his hands back down, away from your hair to be able to spread your cheeks apart. Groaning as he watched his cock slip in and out of your ass, he makes a decision. “Fuck, I think so. She’s been such a good girl this whole time.”
Toji grins, his hand moving to your cheek but this time roughly caressing your lip with his thumb. “You hear that doll? He says you were such a good girl.”
You were unable to form a sentence, your brains were fucked out at this point and Toji, wasn’t happy with this.
“Fucking answer me you whore,” surprised, you came back to your senses as Toji slapped your cheek harshly, leaving a red mark on your face.
“..Please, let me cum..” you hiccuped, “I can’t take it anymore.”
You watched Toji flash his same old devilish smile through your tear filled eyes, both of their paces picking up again.
Your moans turned shaky, the slapping of balls against your skin and wet noises filling the taxi cab.
Toji went back to lazily rubbing circles on your clit as both of them fucked you, making sure that you would cum on time with them.
This time, Sukuna’s hand wrapped around your throat, bringing your ear close to his mouth. “You want us to breed you? Is that what you want?”
Lost in a trance, you just went with whatever. You didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be stuffed full of them forever.
You could only nod, but Sukuna couldn’t take it as an answer.
“Use your words baby, tell me what you want.” His warm breath tickled your ear, Toji’s thrusting making it difficult for you to speak.
You held onto Sukuna’s wrist around your throat, “I want.. both of your cum.. in me..”
Although your hand fell back onto Toji’s shirt as Sukuna gently pushed you back down. You sighed out loud, sobbing quietly as you felt his cock slide out of you.
Toji’s deep thrusts were the only thing you could feel, “Fuck, I’m coming.” He grunted beneath you, until you felt Sukuna’s cock entering the same hole Toji was in.
As you moaned out louder than before, the pleasure too hard to bear. You could feel yourself turning into jelly, your hands wrinkling the fabric of Toji’s shirt once again.
Your voice strained as you felt both of their cocks shoot warm, ropes of cum into you. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you, your chest heaving as Toji’s grip on your waist remained, but Sukuna’s hands slowly lost grip on your hair.
Both of them filled up your hole with seed to the point that it leaked out of you in no time.
Your eyes completely rolled back for tenth time this hour, feeling them both twitch inside of you, the white fluid leaking onto the black leather seats of the truck cab.
Sukuna leaves your hole first, moaning at sight of the generous amounts of cum that dripped down his length to his shaft as he slid out.
Followed by Toji, you could feel his cock slip out too, until his finger made its way back inside, making sure to fuck the escaping load back into you.
Both of them had left their mark in you, stretching you out so fully that no cock in the future can impress you but theirs.
You felt like a total cock sleeve, and your body yearned for more. But honestly, it felt like you were gonna break apart. So maybe next time.
All three of you stayed in the same spots, the windows were now fogged up to the point the entire truck cab smelled of sex.
“I can definitely point out one thing you and ‘em profiteroles have in common.”
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷
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xamag-draws · 7 days
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BBR thoughts 2024
Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies
This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not
So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters
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I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash
I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted
Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it
At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do
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Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction
So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older
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I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet
When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"
But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work
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If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now
I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:
Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)
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I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat
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I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least
I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example
I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep
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I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor
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I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence
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The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers
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Some new Dolly outfits
Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days
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Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo
I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused
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One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book
An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well
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So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)
367 notes · View notes
pearlsinmyhair · 2 months
Text
˖⋆˚₊⊹ his muse
hobie brown x fem!reader
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this has been in my drafts for. forever. like it was summer when i wrote it on a whim. this initially started as a request for hobie with a reader that came from wealth. the vivienne westwood imagery picked up from there, and i just kinda had fun with it. and now im posting it- huzzah!
warnings: smoking (cigarettes). mentions of drinking. slight nsfw at the very end. meet-cute that leads to smut. hobie being a flirt. fem!reader.
hobie is in the midst of a creative rut that he can’t get out of, no matter how much he tries to. that is, until some inspiration walks through the door.
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hobie was in a musical rut.
which never happened to him. never. if he needed a subject for a song, all he had to do was look outside for five minutes or watching the news for even less to have a subject.
that was the wonderful thing about hating the establishment: infinite cruelty, infinite song ideas.
but here he was, staring down at his guitar and picking at strings aimlessly. nothing came to him, no note or melody stuck out to him as song worthy.
he was sitting on the worn couch in his band’s makeshift studio, crosslegged and hunched over his guitar like a madman.
a soft knock came from the doorway, and he looked up to find one of his band mates hitting their knuckles against the doorway.
“you need to get out, man. you’re cooped up.” he said, stepping into the room to stand over hobie like a mother hen. “some fresh air will do you good.”
hobie scoffed, never one to take orders from anyone. but then he exhaled and leaned back, looking up at his friend with an exasperated expression.
“and where exactly do you intend for us to go?” he asked lowly, grumbling.
that’s exactly how he ended up here, in a music club full of bodies he didn’t want to touch and liquor he didn’t want to drink.
it wasn’t a traditional club scene by any means. It was a bit more artistic, leaning away from rave-style places that he’d gone to before. but it still wasn’t his preferred place.
he nursed a shirley temple, which his friend had shoved into his hand unceremoniously before disappearing into the crowd. hobie had decided that he would be the designated driver, and he understood that his band mates were going to take full advantage of that fact.
when they entered the place, his drummer had leaned over.
“maybe you’ll find a muse, hobes. i’m sure there’s plenty of pretty things in this place to give you ideas.” the boy wiggled his brows, and hobie promptly shoved him away with a chuckle.
now, he leaned against a counter and wondered what the hell he was doing. this wasn’t air. this was just distracting noise.
and said noise was becoming a little too much for his senses.
he made eye contact with one of his more sober mates, gesturing that he was going to go somewhere private. he sent a text to their group chat as well saying the same thing.
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not a role model
-> heading to the back, text or call if you need me
little drummer boy
-> you’re no fun, man.
not a role model
-> 🖕🏿
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he moved down a hallway, the sound of bass and electronic beats fading into a pleasant jazz sound that made its way through the speakers overhead.
the space behind the actual club was a kind of lounge, filled with warm ambiance and vinyl records and leather arm chairs. when his friends brought him here, he always inevitably retreated to this quieter space.
it was ironic really. the punk unable to handle crowds and noise. but this was a much different setting from his own shows, so he cut himself some slack.
he sunk into one of the armchairs in a side room, his head lolling back to look up at the ceiling. his head slightly throbbed, and he began to regret not drinking water.
he reached in his pocket to pull out a cigarette box.
he wasn’t a casual smoker, not by a long shot. it just helped to have something to drag on sometimes, something to burn his throat while he was thinking.
right as he put the cig to his lips, the door banged open and slammed shut once more, the lock sliding home.
his spider-senses told him to prepare, but when he looked up they stopped buzzing.
because a girl leaned against the wall across from him, her chest heaving and her eyes wide.
she looked afraid, scared. the way her fingers trembled alerted him to the sheer amount of adrenaline running through her veins currently.
and she hadn’t even noticed him yet. he took a moment to glance over her.
she wore a pretty little lace dress, black and short, with straps that barely cling to her shoulders. his eyes drifted down her bare legs to the black platform gogo boots on her feet, and he was impressed with the height she was balancing on. he knew from experience that those shits weren’t easy to master.
he had been a model once, and he knew enough to see that the girls clothes were expensive. like, wearing his rent expensive.
she took an anxious step, only to wobble like a baby deer, legs too long to stand properly.
maybe not so stable after all.
when she still didn’t notice him (too busy listening to the door), he opened his mouth to make himself known.
“runnin’ from something, little fawn?”
her eyes snapped to him, and she jumped slightly when she realized that someone else was in the room with her. her wide doe eyes did nothing to help disapprove the nickname. she opened and closed her mouth to speak, struggling to get the words out.
“i’m not running.”
he chuckled.
“no? do ya’ slam and lock doors at clubs often then?”
she scoffed at him, rolling her eyes. she took a step away from the door, though he could tell she was keeping track of any noise.
“i’m just…catching my breath.” she said, pulling at the necklace around her throat.
hobie’s eyes drifted down to it, surprised to find a string of pearls with an all too familiar saturn pendent.
his curiosity got the best of him. “real or fake?”
her eyes darted up to meet his, and she looked away in embarrassment as she said “real.”
he let out an impressed whistle. “that’s why you’re running.” he mumbled as the pieces clicked together.
she gave him an incredulous look, eyebrows furrowing in a way that he found adorable.
“my guess” he said as he stood from the chair, taking a step towards the girl. “is that you definitely aren’t supposed to be here. rich girl, pretty dress, innocent look. this place is practically forbidden for your like.”
her gaze hardened into a glare. “and what exactly is my like, hobie brown?”
he smirked. “you know my name.”
a statement. she deflated slightly.
“i’ve been to your shows.” she said, voice lowering. it was just enough to make him realize how close they were. he registered her body language quickly, noting how she didn’t shy away. so he didn’t either.
“interestin’, doll. does your daddy know?”
“don’t condescend me.”
he took a step back then, raising his hand in an ‘i come in peace’ gesture. “easy there. just askin.”
he went to grab a lighter to light his cigarette, reaching down into his jackets pocket. when he found nothing, he groaned softly.
a click made him look up, only to be met with the girl holding up a lighter of her own. he leaned forward to light his cigarette, and she held his gaze as the sizzling sound breiflu filled their silence.
“as you can see” she said softly. “i am not quite ‘my like’.”
he let out a puff of smoke, making sure to turn his head so that it didn’t flow into her pretty face. she coughed anyway.
he chucked. “what you doin’ with a light if you don’t smoke?”
she flipped the lighter in her hand, and it took a moment to notice that it was one of the silver heart ones that were popular.
“you like vivienne, huh?” he said, looking down at her with half lidded eyes as he took another drag.
“what can i say, i have a thing for punks.” she replied, looking up at him through her lashes.
oh, he was going to eat her.
“s’that so?” he asked, wanting to drag whatever admission she was holding in. he leaned close over her, and she stretched her neck to look right up at him. this close, he could smell whatever shampoo she used.
she was off limits. but he never really abided by rules, did he?
“what’re you runnin’ from, doll?” he asked, tapping his cigarette out as he waited for an answer.
“my father sent a body guard out to find me. i snuck out, and the man’s in the club right now.” she said, watching the way his lips curled around the cigarette.
the air kicked on, and the girl below him shivered. he shrugged off his jacket with a sigh, pulling it around her. she accepted it gratefully, practically nuzzling up against the collar.
fuck, he was a goner.
“better get you out of here, then.” he said, using the edges of his jacket to tug her closer. she smirked, allowing him to pull her against his body. “that would be great.”
he leaned down as he texted the chat, brushing his lips against the top of her ear as he typed.
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not a role model
-> hey, i got someone i need to take home. anyone sober?
little drummer boy
-> the fuck are you on about, why would anyone be sober.
fresh meat
-> i am, go enjoy yourself hobes.
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thank god for tyler, he thought as he pulled back the collar of his jacket to press his mouth to the girls jaw.
as she snuck him into her room later, the lyrics of a song began to write themselves in his head.
and as he thrust into her, her hands fumbling against her silk sheets and her moans in his ear, he realized that he had found his muse after all.
hobie’s masterlist
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shiny-jr · 2 years
Note
Oh man, just got caught up on all the Vil stuff of the last few days, and we simps be eating good!
So here’s my contribution to the ever-growing shrine: pre-confession darling always being polite to Vil, but a little distant, a little too star-struck to relax around him. Vil starts to wonder if he’s doing something wrong, if he isn’t good enough…
But THEN *dramatic music* darling’s bag falls over somehow, and some little Vil fan item falls out. Nothing crazy, maybe a button with his face on it, or a perfume model he advertised for that has his picture on the bottle. Something unmistakably fangirl-ish.
Darling only notices when Ace or Deuce points it out, then gets utterly mortified when she sees that Vil had also noticed. Stuffs it back in, tries to laugh it off, but can’t get away from the teasing that yeah, even though they’re still new to this world, they couldn’t resist spending some hard earned thaumarks, and that they’ve grown to admire Vil after the SDC.
Can you imagine? I’m sure Vil would be very nice and not too teasing in the moment, but the second he’s alone? Cue all the embarrassing squealing and rolling on the bed he’d never let anyone see. And the SMUGNESS!! Oh, he’ll be on cloud nine for the next few days, randomly smiling and causing heart attacks in the student population.
Even better, now knowing Darling is a fan, it’s SO much easier to get closer, to offer exclusive tickets to his next movie, to invite darling along on his next photo shoot. And any time darling gets embarrassed and tries to refuse, he can just catch their chin in his hand, and force eye contact as he pouts and reminds them that they’re his fan…
Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.
Characters: Vil Schoenheit.
Summary: Vil being a fucking simp for a fan MC.
Note: Y'all Vil simps have taken over this blog now. ARE YOU HAPPY? Had to write a bit for this because I saw it so vividly in my head. Normally I like to imagine MC kinda oblivious to trends and celebrities of Twisted Wonderland so they casually approach the elegant star Vil like "wazzup" but your idea is pretty fun too. Had to bust out my Vil playlist to write this one. ADDED: I just finished it. Have not edited or checked for mistakes. But I feel like its mid? Like, it’s not bad but it’s not good either. But I didn’t want to keep it in the drafts after completing it and I didn’t just want to delete it either. So I’ll post anyways, even though I’m not happy with it. 
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Normally the class consisted of the first years, you'd sit beside Ace and Deuce, usually with Grim seated in your lap. Sometimes Jack, Epel, and even Sebek would be in the same class. But this time you were alone, despite the class being busier than ever.
Ace, Deuce, and Grim were caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing, as per usual. And they were promptly sent to see the Headmaster. Surprisingly you weren't called up, probably because you had been in the bathroom when it went down so you were exempt from detention. Jack, Epel, and Sebek made it to class on time, but they had arrived when the only seats left were across the room. Leaving you seated between unfamiliar third-years because of the joint class today. Well, most of them were unfamiliar, not all of them. Seated directly on your left was Vil Schoenheit, third-year, dorm leader of Pomefiore, and celebrity.
Schoeneheit had greeted you amicably with a rather friendly smile and a how are you? To which you responded with your own nervous smile and a polite response. Truthfully, you believe he only sat beside you because it was one of the only seats left, but you'd like to believe it was because he saw you in a good light now. Were you friends? Probably not. Maybe simple acquaintances was a better term. 
If you were being honest, he still intimidated you. You could recall the looks of disdain he often gave you and your companions before the audition, then there was his strict nature and the fact that he literally cursed your friends with a cake you were five seconds from taking a bite of. Not to mention his overblot and how his unhinged form seemed to focus on you so intently... Yeah, talk about nightmare fuel. But, you decided to give him another chance at possibly being friends. You knew he was famous, but you didn’t know he was famous enough to draw crowds. Which sparked your curiosity and led you to looking him up. What you found were various films, shows, advertisements, and magazines. He was like the actor Emma Watson, singer Britney Spears, and influencer Kim Kardashian all rolled into one. You still can’t believe you had no idea who he was and you had offered him a bowl of cheap instant noodles when he and the others were staying at Ramshackle. Embarrassing... 
You sat rigidly as Vil checked his appearance in the small hand-held mirror, making sure his looks were up to his standards before class began. Uncomfortably you shifted, deciding to occupy yourself by removing your notebook and writing utensils from the bag you kept as a barrier between you and the super star. As you did so, you failed to notice a tiny object fall out of your bag, but he noticed out of the corner of his eye. Curiously he plucked it up between his gloved fingers, about to return it when he took a closer look. 
It was an enamel pin, shiny and sparkling. However, it resembled his face. Or, to be more accurate, one of the characters he played in a recent series. It caused him to freeze, processing what this meant before he moved to tap your shoulder and held out his open palm with the pin on it. “You dropped this.” 
Confused, you turned your head and raised your eyebrow. That’s when you saw it. Your pin in his hand, the pin that looked exactly like him. Mortified, you quickly snatched it, attempting to laugh it off, but heat only began to creep up your neck when you noticed his smug smile. 
Vil propped up his elbow on the table, holding up his head as he remarked slyly, “I didn’t think you were a fan.” 
“Ahaha, yeahhhh... Sorry, is that weird?” 
“Not at all. I’m a little flattered.” Those amethyst eyes of his were studying you so intensely, watching your every little reaction. “I’m simply surprised. Most people tend to not like that character I portrayed, since they’re a villain and all.” 
“What’s wrong with that? I think villains are better than good guys anyways. They always have a better fleshed out backstory or reason for what they do. They’re more relatable, you know? And you did a really good job and making the audience feel for the character! They became my favorite! And–– Ah...” Realizing what you were doing, you shut your mouth. “I mean, you probably get that stuff a lot, huh? I’ll stop now.” 
His eyes were sparkling, surprised as his listened. When you paused, he insisted, “No, no, continue! Any and all feedback is appreciated. Besides,” Vil took the pin from your hands, and he lifted his fingers up to the upper half of your uniform where he pinned the accessory on your clothing. Beaming pridefully at the sight of the accessory, with his face on it, on your uniform, he hummed, “You said, I was your favorite, didn’t you? We still have a few more minutes before class. You’ll indulge me with more conversation, won’t you~?” 
❂     ❂     ❂     ❂     ❂ 
Once alone, Schoenheit allowed his bag to slip off his shoulder. It was a long class, three hours to be exact. Three hours... with you. He released a shaky breath, clutching the spot over his heart that was still beating at a faster than average rate. He could hardly believe his luck. When he heard that today there was to be a joint class between first-years and third-years, he instantly began prepping. He put more effort into his makeup, making sure it was perfect down to the exact particle. He sprayed on his sweetest smelling perfume and picked his cleanest uniform. 
At first he was worried that perhaps he was doing something wrong. You always appeared so... timid whenever he appeared. You could be joking and chatting animatedly with those pesky friends of yours (which he held a raging jealously towards), but when he entered the room, you would go quiet and avoid his gaze. He questioned and scolded himself for everything he did. Why did he used to look at you like a stain? Why didn’t he realize you earlier? Were his efforts at redeeming himself in your eyes, not good enough? Was it something about the way he dressed? Or acted? Or spoke? All this paranoia seemingly evaporated when he striked up a conversation. For the first time in weeks, you talked to him! And it wasn’t just a little chat about homework, or responsibilities, or school rumors. You spoke to him, about him! He knew by the pin and how you spoke about the series, that you had seen him on the show. You had been thinking about him! It quelled all his worries, as just yesterday he feared that you may have secretly loathed him for what he’s done or tried to do. 
As the memory came back to him of what just occurred, Vil clutched himself and squealed. He was already on the bed, rolling around on the sheets and pillows, resisting the urge to simply jump on his mattress and leap with joy! He could vividly recall the way you allowed him to scoot closer to point out some important material in the textbook, as you whispered a witty remark to him which he very quietly chuckled to in order to avoid being caught by the professor, and you even gave him your number! Of course it was to exchange notes and tips, you had said. But he’d use it for so much more than that. 
This was good first step, wasn’t it? You had officially bypassed the acquaintance stage and were now well on your way to the friend stage. Then, more than that, by that was all in due time. For now... 
Vil stopped his squirming, again feeling his heart that was now beating rapidly. Do you know the things he would do just for your attention? Oh, you truly have no idea of the lengths he would do, just for you. Gingerly picking up his phone, he read over the newly registered number. Your number. Slowly opening up a chat, he was partially disappointed to see it was completely empty. You hadn’t sent a thing. But, if all went well, it’d be full and constantly busy by tomorrow evening. His fingers danced across the screen as he typed out his message, reviewing what he wrote over and over again for any errors, any grammar mistakes, or another way to better word what he wants to say. Finally, after a good five minutes of anxiously staring at his screen, he pressed the send button, and watched the text come up in the chat. 
V: [ It was nice to talk to you again. If you’re willing, we should meet again. I got word that Professor Trein plans to have another joint class promptly, and he’ll assign a project so that the first years and third years work together. Would you like to get ahead and research in the library soon? ] 
Then he waited. And waited. And waited some more. After ten minutes, he feared he wouldn’t get a response. Had you given him the wrong number accidentally or purposefully? Was he coming on too strong? What if–– 
Ding! 
Instantly the screen lit up, displaying a new unread message which he hurriedly read. 
Y: [ Vil, right? Thanks for the heads up! Sorry for the kinda late reply Grim took my phone to play games. Anyways, yeah, that sounds good. I can meet you as soon as classes are over tomorrow, if that’s a good time for you?? ] 
V: [ That sounds perfect. ]
You poor thing, you truly don’t have a clue about what you’re getting into, do you?
❂     ❂     ❂     ❂     ❂ 
Again, Vil was prepared. He dressed flawlessly and got to the library early in order to have all the books necessary and stacked up on the table. He greeted you with a friendly smile, and you immediately got to work together. The blonde sat across from you, watching as you sketched out a rough look for the presentation that you wanted to show him and ask for his opinion. As he waited, he ignored the open book in front of him and instead watched at the way you focused on the paper, your hand moving with the pencil to create lines and shapes on the sheet. It was incredible that even the simple little things about you could captivate him. 
After a moment of watching you with a gentle smile and great intrigue, he opened his mouth, “Do you have any plans for afterwards?” 
You paused, looking up in confusion, “H-Huh?” 
“Do you have any plans for afterwards?” He repeated. “I mean, after our study session together. Do you have anything planned for afterwards?” 
“Oooh.” You shrugged before getting back to the sketch, answering as you finished up the drawing. “I mean, I left Grim with the ghosts but he gets grumpy if he doesn’t get tucked in. The Headmaster said Grim wasn’t allowed out, except classes, for at least two day. But, I might go buy some instant foods from Sam’s shop. Then I’ll lead home.” 
“Instant foods...?” Vil murmured incredulously, his smile immediately dropping. All those times he’d spied on you as you ate lunch with your friends, he always thought it was strange that you never ate when he saw you. Despite your company and even Grim eating. But now this? Instant foods? Was it possible that you didn’t have enough money to eat lunch? He was mortified. Swiftly he grabbed your wrist and carefully dragged you out of the library, “Come. Now.” 
“Wh–– What?? Where are we going? What about the project!” 
“A simple project can wait. Our stuff will be where we left it.” He continued to escort you down the hallways, towards what you recognized was the path leading to the cafeteria. That’s when he spoke again, his tone oddly stern, much different from how softly he spoke just minutes before. “You haven’t been eating properly, have you?” 
Your gaze drifted downwards, gazing at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, in order to avoid his stare. “... Hot pockets are still food.” 
“I mean real food.” When there was a lack of response, Vil became angry. Not at you, but at who was responsible. “That wretched crow hasn’t given you a decent allowance, has he? Tsk. I’ll be having a chat with him, but for now...” He led you to the front of the cafeteria, where there was no line. Other few students present were chatting at tables, having a late dinners after their clubs or study sessions. Vil stood behind you with his arms crossed as he instructed, “Order. And I’ll be watching to be certain you have enough on your plate.” 
You were quiet, gazing at the pastries, plates, meats, salads, and other delectable dishes past the glass counters. The menu overhead appeared endless, with a huge variety of food and drinks and desserts. It made your stomach grumble. It was a horrible reminder that you had barely eaten that day. You only had a cheap bag of chips that morning. Ashamed, you avoided his gaze once again as you muttered, “Vil, I can’t afford any of this right now...” 
“I wasn’t asking if you could afford it. I was instructing you to choose what you wanted. I don’t want your money, you could just pay me back in another manner.” When one of the ghost chefs came over, Vil placed a hand over your shoulder and used his other hand to point at several dishes, “My companion here will have one of these, two of those, and five of that. Yes, that plate right there. Oh, and a smoothie as well. Thank you.” Once the ghost was gone, Vil gazed back down at you. You still couldn’t look him in the eye. Carefully he reached forward, gingerly lifting your head up by your chin so you were forced to look at his eyes. His eyes that were normally so cold and judgmental, gazed at you so fondly. “Why won’t you look at me? Aren’t were close?” He pouted to sell the act. “I’m not about to neglect my own darling fan and let them go hungry. That’d be far too cruel. To pay me back, you can accompany me on one of our days off. Say... to see a new movie in town? Well, do you agree? Or shall I order you more plates and see your time to pay me back grow longer~? Surely spending time with me can’t be that bad?”
2K notes · View notes
strawberryya · 9 months
Text
how to befriend a vampire
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Yeosang x reader
synopsis: what could be better when you’re bored of life in every way than a hot vampire fuck buddy?
word count: 2k
genre/contains: smut, vampire au, vampire!yeosang, gn!reader, strangers to lovers/fwb, unprotected sex, general tw for vampirism and being bitten (the word blood is not used but heavily implied), stalker-ish behavior from both individuals, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms
rating: 18+
a/n: first arousal august fic is here! I hope everyone likes it and looks forward to the next little blurb I have ready and waiting in the drafts :>
my arousal august masterlist
original event for arousal august
[navigation post!]
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Summer was over and new classes were about to begin. Returning to your normal routine wasn’t too hard, you had done it before. Your friends were the same, your dorm was the same, although your roommates were new, and the classes all felt as usual. Nothing special was happening at all. Of course, it would’ve been nice if something were to happen, anything really. Just something that would make life this year a bit different than last year. Maybe you should drop a class and pick up something that has nothing to do with your goal, perhaps cults would be fun to study for a term or two? 
Nothing was wrong, it was just so very…boring. 
“A back-to-class party?” Not a terrible idea, you reasoned when your new roommates asked if you wanted to come along to the park that first weekend back at campus. 
It could be horrible, but at least it would mean that something would happen other than studying or watching movies with your new, and so far reasonable, roommates. It had been a while since you had been with anyone too. Maybe this party was the perfect opportunity to find someone a bit attractive to hook up with. The one from last year had ended up getting into a relationship during the summer - rather annoying, because he really wasn’t that bad in bed. 
You needed orgasms to get through the school year, and so you went to the party. Dressed up from head to toe, in clothes that hugged your ass and glitter in your hair, hoping that the outfit would be enough to gain someone’s attention. 
Your mission was… sort of successful. It did attract tons of people, some really attractive people, and some incredibly sleazy and creepy people.
You regretted coming after about two hours of nonstop socializing with other students which led absolutely nowhere. Nobody grabbed your attention, everyone fit perfectly into the little presaved folders in your head. It was so predictable, so incredibly boring. 
“Should we just give up?” You shouted to one of your new roommates. At least, you found some hope in the fact that neither one of them had ended up finding someone interesting among the large crowd that flew past one another like ants in the campus park. You weren’t completely alone in yur failure. 
“I’m ready to go, honestly,” one of your roommates agreed, while the other one had already disappeared in the crowd without acknowledging your question. 
You grabbed ahold of one another. Neither of you sober enough to be able to navigate your way home without losing one another in the night. With arms folded together, in a way only possible for two almost strangers when drunk, you two trudged away from the party and the loud bass that made your head pound. 
“I wanted to fuck someone tonight,” you groaned and fake sobbed into the chilly night air, your roommate only laughing at your unapologetic whining. “I’m not kidding, I don’t care who it is. I just really wanna be obsessed with someone! I wanna be in love! I don’t care if it’s actually love or just really great sex.”
It seemed a bit silly to say out loud, but it was the truth. You probably wouldnt have been so honest with your roommate this soon had you been sober tonight. Nevertheless, the truth was that you just wanted someone to think about, someone to crush on, someone to sleep with when the days became too boring to handle by yourself. 
You were wobbling down the cobbled streets on your way back to the dorm. Your arm was still entangled with your roommates, thoughts having moved on from your honest feelings and instead focusing on whether or not it would be possible to order fries to your dorms. 
When he bumped into your arm, or more correctly, when you stumbled into his arm as he passed, you almost fell over. Enraged at the audacity of this random guy to walk right into you, you turned back around, prepared to yell at him with all your might. But when you began shouting a loud “Hey!”, your anger soon ebbed out as the stranger turned around, revealing his perfect face in the yellow light from the streetlight above. His features were striking even in the dark. His eyes were piercing. His hair was dark and pushed back from his forehead in a light wave. Beside one of his eyes, you noticed a blushy pink birthmark, almost matching the pretty red shade of his lips. His lips… were a lot redder than any lips you had seen on a random guy before. Was he wearing lipstick? 
You had forgotten why you had yelled out to the stranger. His gorgeously handsome face distracted you completely. 
“Y/n, let’s gooo,” your roommate whined, pulling at your arm, evidently not enraptured by the pretty stranger you had bumbled into. How was that possible? You had never seen him before, never known he existed, and you were already obsessed with him. His name, his interests, his favorite place to kiss his lover, you needed to know it all. You needed to befriend him. 
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The night was mostly a blur the following day, everything except for the stranger.
For some reason, his face never left your mind. For two weeks you searched every room for him, scanned the streets as you walked down them, and took walks on the campus every shot you got. 
You never found him. He could’ve been an illusion, but you knew deep down that he wasn’t. At least looking for the mystery man in the night had given you something to think about, someone to obsess over, even if you didn’t even know his name. 
It took yet two more weeks and another walk to the convenience store to finally find that one necessary piece of information. You didn’t understand how it had taken this long to find him, it wasn’t like he was hiding. He was walking around in the park, just like the last time you had bumped into him. Dark hair falling onto the sides of his head, a long coat half open to reveal a simple black polo and jeans, almost exactly like last time. You took it all in, stopping mid-step as to not loose sight of him, the plastic bag you had bought filled with snacks and drinks for the late-night studying you had planned on doing was rustling in the wind. He had seen you too. 
He wasn’t moving either, maybe he thought you were a weirdo for simply staring at him in the dark park. 
You drew in a breath. “Hey you! What’s your name?!” You shouted across the grass. If you were going to be a weirdo, you would do it properly. 
He didn’t shout back. Far away someone shouted in the night. You looked towards the sound for half a second out of reflex, and when you looked back the stranger was gone. 
Again?? You thought and damned the universe for teasing you like this. 
“Yeosang.” 
The voice was deep and it sent chills down your back. It made you quickly turn around, finding the stranger right behind you now. He was even hotter this close. 
“Yeosang…” you whispered under your breath. He was rather tall. He gave you a small smile, white teeth flashing cold in the moonlight. Unusually pointy. “I’m y/n…”
His smile got wider. “I know”
Your mind blanked, but you needed to say something. “Let’s be friends!” You hurried to say before he could have a chance to mysteriously disappear again. His smile dropped, eyes looking at you surprised and slightly suspicious. Understandable. 
“Sure,” he said after a moment of only the wind in your ears, a smirk appearing on his face. “If a friend is all you want, I can grant you that.” 
“It’s not,” you said honestly and quickly. His smirk grew. “I want a lot more, but I only found out your name ten seconds ago. Thought I’d give you a chance to get to know me before I tried getting you into bed with me.” 
You felt feverish, the embarrassing reality of what you were telling this stranger hitting you hard.
“I know enough,” he said before his hand found the side of your face and his lips leaned in to meet yours. He tasted like aluminum for a split second but the way you could feel his toned body against yours where your coats fell open distracted you and you soon forgot about the unusual taste. 
A swishing sound made you open your eyes again, the cold from the night air in the campus park seemingly gone and replaced with much warmer air. You were inside, you were inside your own bedroom. You didn’t know how it had happened, you didn’t really know what had happened, and you didn’t know why you didn’t even care. The stranger in the night was named Yeosang, and he was kissing down your neck in your bedroom, pulling your coat off your body, and throwing it into the corner of the room. He was no ordinary person, that you had already caught onto. 
“Can I bite you?” He mumbled against your skin. 
His hands were caressing your body and your mind was buzzing with desire, but the desire didn’t clog your mind yet. You were clearminded and saying “Yes” before you could stop and think about what a bad decision it might be to agree. 
Small pecks now your throat made arousal pool in your lower abdomen. “Bite me as you fuck me,” you whispered. This made Yeosang smile against your skin, moving up to kiss you passionately once again as he pulled his own clothes off along with yours. Pushing you down on the bed as his hard cock pushed against your thigh. It would be tight, but you needed him to use you and stretch you out enough to make life interesting again. 
That, he did. Nothing was mundane or boring about his hands on your body or his tongue on your chest. He was surprisingly gentle as he began filling your hole with his erect cock, but his pace grew feral as he continued pounding into you. You were moaning and clawing at his sculpted body when he hit the right spot inside of you. When his lips let go of you, you looked at him gazing down at your bare neck, he wanted to bite you for real, it was clear he meant it, and you wanted him to as well. You shifted your neck, inviting him to do what he wished. “You look delicious,” he mumbled before he threw himself onto your neck, piercing the skin ever so slightly. You barely even felt it, but the way he suckled on your skin after the small sting felt like he was trying to mark your skin, sending goosebumps down your body when he continued licking and humming against your neck. 
You came as he pounded into you, his hands working their magic while getting to know your body. He didn’t stop until you came for a second time, whining at the overstimulation. 
He cared for your neck and cleaned you up, his movements swift and gentle as he handled you. He caressed your skin with great care, careful not to be too rough. A world’s difference from the way he had fucked you a moment ago. He didn’t force any small talk, a nice change from most other guys you had been with. He had gotten dressed and given you some of your own pajamas to put on before he was ready to leave. 
He couldn’t leave just like this, you collected all the courage you had left and began with an unsure voice. “We’re friends now, right? So you’re welcome here anytime, we could do this again…” 
“We’re friends, yeah.” He smirked and looked at you as you pulled your shirt over your head. “I’ll be here if you need me, or if you’re just… bored.” The last word he said was paired with a small wink. You chuckled nervously, he had known all along. Could he read your mind as well? Maybe you could find out next time. 
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Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕
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timidpumpkin · 1 year
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Little Light (Stucky x reader)
Part 1: Found
Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader
Summary: The first time you met Steve--or--the first time Steve found you.
Warnings for this part: Dark!Stucky, Female reader, Stalking, Reader has anxiety, Reader cries, Allusions that reader is a little, Allusions to kidnapping.
Warnings for future parts: Ddlg, Daddy!Stucky, Kidnapping, Forced age regression, Slapping, Anxiety, Panic attack, Slight dubcon, Stockholm Syndrome. (Will add more as needed)
Let me know if I missed any!!
Word count: 2.6k
Notes: Reader is in their 20s. There will be a few more parts to this as well as future writings within this universe! :) hehe. This is my first time ever posting a fic...please be kind...I am sensitive. Minors and ageless blogs DNI or I WILL block you.
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It’s chilly. 
The night is abnormally quiet. Your ears have to adapt to the lack of sound. Bugs and frogs are no longer sounding off to the moon. The draft that bites its way up your nose is dry. It’s the first few indications that the trees will transform, stripping their colorful shields to brace themselves for the biting weather that's to come.
You huffed your way into your familiar abode, wishing it wasn’t so late. For the past, well, who knows how long, you had been working prolonged hours that certainly weren’t supposed to be a part of your daily work life. Nevertheless, it was, and you were tired–no, exhausted. 
Your head and stomach oh so kindly reminded you that it was in need of food, but when you make your way into the kitchen, nothing seems appetizing. Well, that wasn't exactly true. The truth was the idea of spending what little time you had left in the day making something that would only add the dishes, another chore, was dispiriting, to say the least.
So instead of meeting your basic needs, you were met with wet eyes that almost lull you into slumber. But before you're taken over by sleep, as you lay on your couch, your mind drifts to a time when things weren't as…hard.
Several months ago, or perhaps even close to a year when you think about it, you were in Washington DC. It was an academic trip, the last one for your last year. Of course, throughout your schooling, you had plenty of assignments to keep you occupied. Yet, trips like these made it much more than bearable–it was fun. Most of your time was spent exploring countless museums and exhibits tailored to define the world you lived in. Elation saturated your spirit as you and your closest friend, MJ, absorbed the new environment. 
Perhaps though, one of the most memorable parts of your trip was when you two snuck out late one night to grab a bite to eat. Your mischievous selves couldn't seem to be bothered by the fact that the city could be known for its more…eventful crime life.
The streets weren't nearly as crowded at this time of night. Still, the warm street lights and richly colored signs decorating local establishments left the perfect amount of people to create a steady hum of activity. After going back and forth between several different food options, you eventually found yourselves on a bench to eat your taco score of the night. You mumbled to each other through full mouths declaring over and over again how delicious it was and made plans to find something sweet afterward. You hummed in satisfaction when the urge hit you. 
You had to pee. Great. 
Where on earth could you find a decent bathroom around here?
“I’m gonna try to find a restroom,” you said, wiping food debris from your pants and standing from your seated position.
“Ha, good luck,” MJ jeered at you, mouth half full. “I’ll be here enjoying this then” she motioned to your leftovers.
“Yeah yeah,” you scanned around you before figuring a direction to try your luck at. “Well, I’ll be back soon if I don’t find anything.”
“Hey wait!” she blurted before you could take off too far. “Don't forget this,” you turn to see an outstretched hand holding your phone. “If you get kidnapped or something I'll need some way to find you,” she teased. “You know, so I don't get in trouble if you do.”
“How very thoughtful of you.” you rolled your eyes playfully taking it from her.
You roam around, one street to another until you finally happen by a small sandwich shop that, mercifully, lets you use their restroom. Once you depart from its doors, you realize you're not really sure where you are. At all. Every street and building looks like the other one and after walking for a bit, you’re pretty sure you’ve gone the wrong way. Where you find yourself now is darker. Few lights illuminate the path ahead, and you can’t shake the strange feeling that you’re being watched–despite not seeing a single soul. You can’t help but check behind you every so often, looking backwards over and over again until you're not even really looking forward at all anymore.
And that when your body hits it. Something hard stops your momentum completely and wobbles you off balance until you feel gentle but firm hands steadying your swaying form. You can’t help the gasp that escapes your throat. 
“Woah there,” the solid figure holding you speaks. You blink up at the deep voice. It’s a man. A large man. His grip eases off you and he holds his hands up, open-palmed. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” he appealed, a reassuring smile on his face. 
“Oh it’s-that's alright,” you try to regain your composure as you back up a step, making space between you and the stranger. “I suppose I should have looked where I was going” you breathed, trying not to sound so startled. “Sorry.” you posture yourself up finally getting a good look at the man in front of you. You can’t help but stare at him for–probably more than a few–awkward moments as you start to recognize his face. It’s one you saw only hours ago during your Smithsonian visit, specifically, the Captain America exhibit. Yep–you’re pretty sure that man looking back at you is Steve Rogers. 
Except, he looks different from the pictures and videos you’ve seen. He’s sporting a beard, and he really does look even bigger than you expected. Even with a few good feet between you, you still have to look up to him. And he’s looking at you too. Luckily, he breaks the silence, likely noticing your gob-smacked face. 
“Are you,” he looked you up and down quickly, assessing you. “lost?” he meets your eyes.
“Oh-uh-, no no, I’m-” you didn’t want to seem helpless, but when he raises his eyebrow at you, you quickly cave. “well yeah actually…I was trying to find my friend. I left her on a bench…somewhere.” you say looking around pointlessly, as if she’d somehow appear before you.
“Well,” he takes a tiny step towards you. “I’m sure I could help with that” he grins confidently at you. 
“Oh that’s okay,” you start. “I mean I don’t want to impose or anything.” You’re sure he has more important things on his agenda than to help some random girl find her friend. You felt like some lost kid looking for their parent in the grocery store.
“Not at all,” he says definitively. “come on.” He gestures for you to follow his lead. He asks you what you remembered about your surroundings when you left MJ. He seems to recognize the place you’re talking about immediately and starts guiding the way. On the walk there, you talk. Well–he talks, mostly. It’s not that you necessarily felt nervous in his presence. Rather, it just wasn't uncommon for you to be at a loss for words, especially with new people. The truth of the matter was, you just didn’t know what to say, it was often difficult for you in that way. In the way that you only felt comfortable around someone after a decent amount of time of knowing them. Regardless, what was uncommon was how comfortable you felt talking to him-or well-answering him when he spoke to you.
“You really should be more careful walking around alone like that.” he said, seriousness lacing his tone.
“Yeah,” you laugh guiltily, “after all, you never know what kinds of people you’ll run into.” you jab at him playfully and he gives you a laugh in return. He asks if you're new to the area, and you explain your presence as a result of a field trip. You tell him simple things, like what you study, and how you’re almost finished with school.
“You know what you want to do after you graduate?” he probes. You wish he hadn’t. You hated that question more than anything, and now it was coming from him. Nevertheless, you felt you could be honest. 
“I’m…not really sure” you look downwards, self-conscious of your answer.
“Hmm, I know what that’s like.” you peer up at him in disbelief. Sure, you didn’t know him at all really, but still, you couldn't help the short judgment that told you that wasn’t true.
“Really?”
“I know, I know” he chuckles, “hard to believe, right?” he glances at you, smirking as you continue to walk. “but it’s true. Maybe not exactly like your situation but…” he purses his lips “I know what it’s like to feel uncertain about your path.” You're slightly taken aback by his honesty, and it comforts you to know someone like him could feel the same doubts as you. 
Well, of course, you think. He is just a normal person–okay, superperson–after all. A person like any other. 
One with feelings, wants, and needs. 
You hum. “Did you ever figure it out?” he cocks his head at you. “You know, whatever you were unsure about?” he ceases his stroll and your legs automatically mimic his as you stand to face each other. Even at a respectable distance, he towers over you. It’s not just his height though, rather, his entire being, his build, is enormous. 
“I think I did,” he smiles at you “yeah,” you smile back and for the second time tonight, you’re staring, but again, he breaks the silence. “Is that your friend?” you turn to see MJ still seated where you left her looking as nonchalant as usual. You give Steve an affirmation and begin making your way to her. As you get closer you make out what appears to be a cup of ice cream in her hands.
“There you are. I’ve been worried sick.” she explains, taking in a spoonful. 
“I can tell.” you quip. 
“Was too! You never answered my texts” she wiggles her phone in front of you for emphasis. You don’t remember getting any texts. Then again, maybe you were too distracted to notice them.
“Oh, well, sorry, I kind of got lost. Luckily I ran into-” you look behind you wanting to show your friend who helped bring you here, only to see an empty street. Your brows furrow. 
“Ran into…” she peers in the direction you’re looking towards.
“Someone that helped,” you mumble mostly to yourself. She gives you a confused look. “I-I’ll explain when we get back to the room.” and you do.
You tell her about how he startled you at first but was quick to offer help. “Of course he’d offer to help, he’s a superhero.” MJ remarks during your retelling. She listens as you describe how easy it felt to converse with him, and how you wished you had only thanked him properly for helping you. Realistically, you’re not sure what would have happened had you not run into him–literally. 
That memory wasn’t one you thought of too often, to tell the truth, but it was one that reminded you of a simpler time. Yet, even then you remember being tired. Only now did it seem to catch up with you how much you had to do. It made even the simplest tasks feel like too much. You longed for a time when you didn’t have so much…responsibility. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚
That night may have been the last time you saw Steve, but it certainly wasn’t the last time he saw you. 
He watched you that night, long before you even ran into him. He had been there for some mission, the importance of which he couldn’t remember. What he did remember though–your laugh. It chimed over the noise of the city around him, guiding him to your form where he was met with bright smiles as you giggled at something your friend said. There was something about you that drew him to you, and as the night went on, that something only grew stronger. He watched as you joked with your friend. He noticed your attentiveness to her, and those around you. How kind you were to anyone you interacted with, and how…silly you were for leaving your friend to go off by yourself. He knew then he had to keep watching, to make sure you remained safe. 
He was elated when you took that turn into the dark and empty street. It was the perfect opportunity to hear your voice–up close. 
And oh–how sweet you sounded.
Like how one would imagine a doe-eyed deer would sound. He reveled in how timid you were around him. How hard you tried to be courteous, mouth moving to form words, only for your lips to shut themselves. He truly thought it was adorable how you couldn't really look him in the eye, and when you did, you’d look away, often, with a bashful look.
Steve did see something in you that night–something he was missing. Once he realized it so, and dropped you off with your best friend, he knew he had to find his–Bucky.
Truthfully, he was more than just his best friend. They had been through so much, both together and separate. Both were thrown into treacherous waters more than once, living in unpredictable conditions, and exposed to the most atrocious of people. Though still, they had each other long before any of that. A friendship–a relationship–that knew no bounds–whether it be of time or situation. 
Steve knew Bucky would understand his fascination with you. They both had a lucid awareness of the wretched world they lived in. It wasn’t always that way, but time had proven it so over and over again. They could always rely on each other when everyone else seemed content with being against them. They knew the world still needed help, and they gave it, when and where they needed to. But nevertheless, in their eyes, everything was still tainted with darkness.
Except you. 
Over months, they observed you, studying you like there would be a test over every aspect of your being. Bucky thought you were even better than Steve had described. Beautiful, softhearted, and sweet. Yes, you truly were sweet. But in a way, too much so. He saw how nasty some people could be to you, only for you to return them with kind eyes and meek responses. He hated it. He adored you, and as time went on, it soon became clear that he didn’t want anyone to treat you in such a way.
They saw you working yourself to depletion every day. How you’d let dishes and laundry pile up. How poorly you ate, and how…clumsy you could be. Tripping over nothing after a long day, injuring yourself when actually attempting to make a meal. They knew what they needed to do. They knew what you needed. 
You needed them.
You needed them to take care of you.
Steve couldn’t bear to see you suffer like this, and Bucky knew they were the only people who could truly keep you shielded from the cold world around them. They would be your warmth, and you would be their little light. 
Yes, they could tell you needed them.
They could tell when you failed to do the simplest of things. 
They could tell when, every night, you’d grip your favorite stuffed animal in your arms.
They could tell when you were sure all the lights were out, your thumb would slowly slip its way behind your lips before you drifted to sleep.
Timing was everything. They had only been waiting for the perfect moment when everything was ready–including you. So when they saw you this night, curled up, tears staining the fabric beneath you as you fell asleep with an empty stomach, they knew it was the perfect time. 
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mirzamsaiph · 1 month
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IT’S ME, I’M ALIVE, UR GIRL IS BACK FR FR. 
Okay, calming down now. Hi, how are you doing? I hope you’ve been good. I AM SO SORRY I haven’t commented on your new chapter releases, I’ve been having a rough time, year 12 is hard man, and I still have like two more terms of school after this one, and then university. I promise you I have read every chapter you’ve dropped, even if I haven’t commented. I’ve been lamenting for days on whether or not to send you an ask bcs like, ur my fav and ya know, it’s only fair I do bcs I follow you anyway lol but I also have no idea what to say, ur making me shy, damn. I’ve just been lurking in your Tumblr feed, liking all ur posts like a gremlin bcs sending an ask is too scary, (forgive me, for I am a coward). How long has it been since I last commented, I don’t even know 🙁.
I’m writing this as a draft in Google Docs in the middle of my maths double, who writes a draft for an ask? Me, I write drafts for asks apparently, yikes man. The maths part doesn't matter, I do not care for it.
I still love every single one of your chapters, ESPECIALLY THE READING THE BOOK ONES!! LIKE HELLO?!?!? POSEIDON FOR BEST FATHER!?!?! Sobbing, screaming, crying after reading that, I love the sea fam. Percy is so bbg too, like hold him in my hands and give him lil forehead kisses kinda bbg, so precious. AND just the campers, they're so cute, I love when Camp Half-Blood actually comes across as a family, or like an actual camp, the singing around the camp-fire is so wholesome, and Will being Percy's hype-man, like c'mon man, they're just best buddies, I love that for them.
It is deeply important to me that you understand just how much I love your fics, and just like ur content in general. When I get bored I always check my emails for updates or I go on ur Tumblr and just scroll, like I love u pookie, fr.
I’m just gonna send this as is, I’m psyching myself out over this hahah. I’ll try and get around to commenting on chapters again, especially one’s I’ve missed, and if I have time I might just start sending them via Tumblr. I need like somewhere to list everything I wanna talk abt in the comments.
Anyway, bye bye, see u soon.
Fun fact, in however long I’ve had Tumblr, this is my first ask :3
PS: I just realised I never put my name lol, it’s Smoll_Satan. This is my Tumblr account 👍.
OH MY GOD HELLO??? WELCOME BACK GIRL??? YOU HAVE BEEN MISSED TRUST 🤞🏻
I’m doing great, school is kicking my butt :( trying not fail this semester as the moment. Year 12 (which I’m taking a wild guess and saying that is junior year, in American terms) is known as the hardest and most stressful year, so no judgement here girlie!
Don’t fear girl! I’m not scary at all, I’m like the literal least intimidating person on the planet. I’m just a girl I promise. I saw you go through and like my posts and I was giggling everytime I got a notification bc that was really nice 😭
Writing in your docs is so real because I have done the EXACT same thing so many times, mostly bc I fear tumblr is gonna bug out on me ;( Also I hate math too, it irks my soul.
THANK YOU. POSEIDON IS GETTING HIS REDEMPTION ARK. TRUST ME. I was screaming writing that, i was just so surprised that I wrote that because I lovedddd it.
Will and Percy are best bro’s but Percy is ready to threaten him when he and Nico get together. Trust Percy is a protective older brother… (the singing was so sweet :(()
GIRL I LOVE YOU OH M GEE YOU’RE SO SWEET. I love seeing your comments, whilst you look for my chapters I go looking in my comments for your comment.
Don’t psych yourself out when it comes to Tumblr asks! I love them, like I find it so amazing. If you do comment trust I’ll be replying to each one, they are the source of my amusement for each chapter. (literally have cackled reading your commentary)
BYE! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
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teriwrites · 3 months
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about me: a writeblr re-re-re-introduction
Hello! My old pinned post is officially over a year old and makes me cringe whenever I'm on my blog, so it's time to freshen things up again!
me
I'm Teri, I'm smack dab in the middle of my 20s and figuring out life. My writing is pretty exclusively original stuff, a lot of novels and a lot of fantasy, but I play around with various genres in short stories. Sort of a jack-of-all-trades in regards to hobbies - aside from writing, there's anything from baking to drawing with my ancient art tablet to cross-stitch to playing music to rambling around the patch of woods near my house to watching long-form D&D let's plays.
my goals
I recognize that every time I post something like this, it's with the intention of finally becoming as active on writeblr as I was during the pandemic. I also recognize I've never quite managed that.
So here are some more general goals to get me through 2024:
Finish my 2nd draft of Beyond Alder Creek
Write as cringey and brutally honest as I never allowed myself to as a teenager.
Speaking of, a large reading/writing goal of mine is to go back through every NaNo draft I've ever written (I've participated since 2011). So aside from just reading that and likely turning it into a whole spectacle on here for people's amusement, generally just survive reading through the writing from 8th grade. Stay tuned for more on that in the coming weeks lol
Finally, I have a general goal every year of reaching 100K words, between writing and editing and the like, but I'd happily be a little looser with that goal if it meant getting through others.
And now, without further ado:
my writing
Before I get specifically into WIPs, a general overview of the kind of writing you can expect from me:
As I said, I'm a fantasy nerd. I love worldbuilding, both on a large scale (nations and cultures and political relationships) and a small scale (a magic shop in an otherwise contemporary setting).
There's not a lot of romance in my writing, but there Are a lot of transformational relationships and codependency. Friendships, siblings, guardians, general ride-or-dies.
Thought experiments. I've been trying to catch and indulge more in my 'wait, what if?' ideas. Sometimes, that's fun little snippets of silly ideas, sometimes it's a majorly emotionally heavy scene for a story I'll never write. Sometimes, it's coming up with ideas to 'combine genres'. It's all about expanding the range.
wips*
Beyond Alder Creek /// draft 2 /// tag: bac
Winnie Pewitt has never believed in the fae. That is, until her little brother disappears, and she stumbles upon a faerie ring on the edge of town. Inside, a man seemingly carved from gold suggests that he knows who took the boy. With everyone else around their hometown accepting her brother's fate as certainty, Winnie takes it upon herself to craft the perfect deal and enter the realm of the fae with her new companion in tow.
The Lies in the Legend /// draft 1 /// tag: litl
The fictional autobiography of an elven noblewoman who rose rapidly in station and influence from an unremarkable youth to a diplomatic powerhouse. Spanning centuries during the prime of her life, Lady Ghislaine Agassi charts the course of her career and reputation, and highlights the dangers of making myths out of our idols.
*Though these are my primary WIPs, I have a page that covers various other WIPs and projects that I've brought up over the past few years.
I think that about covers everything! As always, I can't make any promises about how the year will wind up and where it takes us. But I will say, I've actually been writing recently, and yk I'm just gonna ride that high.
And for fun, here's some random facts about me:
fun facts
I have degrees in psychology and music!
I've lived across three continents, but currently live in upstate New York for whatever reason lol
The animals I've ridden on the back of include: horse, pony, elephant, and ostrich. The horse was my least favorite. By far.
I got diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes a couple months after Covid landed stateside (in May 2020) and am Always ready to talk someone's ear off about it.
The first story I ever wrote was on PowerPoint and was about war breaking out between humans and aliens that had taken refuge on Earth after their planet was destroyed. I was 8. There was a Lot of Clipart involved.
I've never been published, but I once secretly planned out, wrote, edited, and self-printed a couple copies of a novel about my best friends and our college apartment. They received it for Christmas last year and loved it (or at least were kind enough to tell me they did)!
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air--so--sweet · 4 days
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Made my first fan edit in over a decade (in my day they were called fanvids). Apparently you can't use copyrighted music longer than a minute on tiktok (it was easier to get round copyright in my day also) so this one is just for you tumblr. Also let's ignore the clips with logos in because I'm not getting clean versions to re-edit it, it's 8am and I haven't been to sleep (thanks ADHD hyperfocus stopping me from literally noticing the sun coming up!)
Edit: Had some sleep so now time to write a ridiculous number of words about a 3 minute edit! This was a lot of fun to make, I forgot how fun video editing is and capcut is a dream compared to windows movies maker and sony vegas (which was what all the cool kids were using for some reason in the mid 2000s but I never got the hang of it).
It also reminded me how fun some of the dance numbers are. Like I love Dancing in the Moonlight and Twistin' the Night Away. I know for the latter they originally had a choreographed routine but it was scrapped and and they were told improvise and have fun. It's something that definitely comes across in the final scene and it makes it feel more authentically like three siblings messing around.
Also in editing the video scenes I noticed stuff I wouldn't have otherwise. Emmy breaks multiple times because she's having so much fun (it's left in because it makes sense for her to laugh in the moment but Emmy's laugh is very different to Allison's).
The weird dance Diego does with the sword during Another One Bites the Dust, and the fact Lila has to fully step back at one point to not get hit in the face! I always thought Lila was just pulling Five in by the hand for a hug in the same scene but you can see them dancing together in the background throughout. I knew they danced together at the wedding but Five was blackout drunk at that point so it's fun to see him dancing with her at a time when he's...well not sober, but definitely less drunk.
Also as an aside, in the first draft of the script for S1E1 it's shown explicitly that Five is uncomfortable with touch after years in the apocalypse. Though the scene in question didn't make it into later drafts, it still feels implied to me throughout season 1 and it makes me feel happy to see how far he's come, seeming genuinely comfortable with Lila's affection. Also if anyone is interested in the idea of him struggling with touch @soshadysoquiet has a great fic exploring this (though rather than my view that he's become accustomed to, and comfortable with touch it posits that he's dealing with so much due to the apocalypse he doesn't recognise touch as the cause of his distress).
I also think there's a sort of theme happening in the partner dances during Footloose, rather than the characters being paired randomly but that will take long enough to explain it needs it's own post, even if this one wasn't already obscenely long.
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angelxxreaper · 5 months
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OOC: The future of angelxxreaper (and our other bedrockverse blogs)
Hello everyone, I’m Cam, I’m the one who writes axxr (along with my co-host Phthalo). I just figured I’d write something quick to try to explain what’s happening over here in light of casinoroyale and songbird-sunrise’s announcements.
First off, I would like to say, thank you for sticking with this blog for 2+ years. You guys made this experience very fun for me and I really enjoyed writing this blog for you. We would never have made it if it weren’t for your continued support and questions. For that, genuinely thank you.
I have and will be taking a massive stepback from writing this blog. A lot of things have happened in my personal life that have made it hard for me to continue writing this blog, along with the fact that my interest in the Dream SMP has dwindled significantly. Additionally, writing emerald duo, while very fun, has also been causing us a lot of grief for Techno and has been making it very hard for us to continue.
As of right now, I still feel physically ill any time I go onto Tumblr over the stress and grief I’ve been experiencing lately with school and my family life. I do hope one day that I will be able to feel better enough to continue writing, but maybe not as angelxxreaper.
We may post some of our drafts, maybe not, and I am sad that we never got to do, and probably will never do, a lot of plans that we had for this blog. However, I’m not upset about where we left Phil. Thunder and I may write an official happy ending for subtotechno and axxr, but the idea of an official end is very sad to the both of us so I don’t know if we ever will. In the event that we don’t, please imagine them happily living their lives together, with Techno’s huge zoo and maybe them going out on another adventure to take over the world on another server again.
This isn’t to say that I will never ever write another rp blog again. I still very much adore roleplaying, Philza, hardcore and the colorzas. I may make a comeback in another way soon (I’m very much addicted to roleplaying still). But please don’t expect anything official.
As a final note, if I never come back to this blog again, thank you guys for the unending support and thank you to the other bedrockverse mods (especially Thunder, Holly and Atlas) for allowing me to be apart of your silly little roleplays. I had a lot of fun and these blogs (and you lot) were always the highlight of my day <3 I’m not very good about the thought of things ending, (I’m crying as I write this), but should this be final, think about this not as a loss but as a graduation. We’re off to tackle some other things.
Thank you for being the light of my life for so long. I’ll catch you later <3
- Cam @craftycalico and Phthalo @fillza
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rott1ngbra1n · 4 months
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Sorry for being sudo inactive!! I’ve been on a trip, where I got to see Sweeney Todd on Broadway!! Genuinely such a good show. If I went on about how amazing it was, we’d be here all day
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But on the note of me being gone for a bit, ya boi has been crafting! Along with some more ramblings as usual-
More art below the cut (under my ramble-)
The chapter one outline of the Alley Cat AU has been completed! Now it’s on to drawing some panels out and finalizing the draft! Of course I will probably post more concept work before then, as some details still need to be worked out. But we are making headway!
I’m going to also work on making a masterpost here soon, so that way everything is in one neat spot. But the story will be hosted here! Here’s some more smaller concept work to tide you guys over until the next post! I obviously want to finish a couple chapters but I’ve also started work on a chapter explaining how Morro met his cat! Originally the cat was unnamed but I think Wisp works well for them, I will try to finish the reference sheets for all of the characters before I post any chapters.
I’m also going to finish up my work on chapter one, before posting any of it. So that way the wait between isn’t as awful (fun fact that’s been my New Year’s resolution- to try and post more-) but please be patient with me, I’ve never really worked on a project this big before and I am a full time college student with a job. So I will do my best!
I want to let you guys know as well, the ninja and their dynamic with Lloyd will stay pretty similar to that of the show. With them obviously being suspicious of Lloyd and his “cat”, but because they find him and Lloyd doesn’t try to do anything regarding the Serpentine (because Morro shook some sense into him-) there’s no residual “you unleashed the snakes on us-“ vibes. Instead right off the bat Kai takes one look at Lloyd and says “You are now my little brother. You cannot deny this.”, adding more fluff.
That also means we have to find another person who unleashes the serpentine. Because plot reasons and all that jazz, I’m working on it but I think it would be funny if Jay did it by accident or one of the other darkly boys did it. I’ll toy with both ideas and some other ones before I settle on it, I have time. I hope.
I’ve got some other things I’m cooking up, some Ninjago related, others pertaining to other fandoms I’m in.
Aside from that, I also have a Redbubble! There’s some stuff in there I’m reworking, so a minder and apology for that, but I’m going to try to get some more Ninjago works posted up there. Along with some original works! Here’s the link if you’d like to check it out!
I also have a KoFi that I am also redoing and working on! If you’d like to commission me, that would be the spot! I’m still trying to figure it out so if you have any questions don’t be afraid to ask! KoFi link here!
I really appreciate all of your kind words and reblog tags (I do see them, they make me laugh and smile), it means a lot and I hope you all enjoy what else I’ve got in the oven!! Thank you so much!!
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darkdarkroom · 1 year
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~ Heat of the Moment ~
Eddie Munson x Reader
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Summary: Best friends to lovers. An unexpected drunken kiss has the potential to change everything - was it just the beer, or did Eddie actually mean it? CW: Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, swearing, kissing, mainly fluff with a hint of angst. Words: 5K
Coming out of inactivity to post some bonus fluff that’s been sat in my drafts, for all you drunk Eddie lovers out there. Happy holidays x
MASTERLIST
***
“Give me one good reason why we can’t just stay in and watch a movie” 
You stare expectantly at Eddie, arms folded as you block the doorway to your dorm room. He simply rolls his eyes and shakes his head, choosing to ignore your blatant show of stubbornness. “Because you’ll enjoy it? Now if you’d just let me in…” he insists, making an attempt at moving past you.  
“That’s the best you can come up with?” you shoot back, not budging an inch. “Why would I enjoy a high school party?”  
“Because I’ll be there” he replies, leaning casually against the door frame. His calm demeanour is beginning to infuriate you; he knows you well enough to know you’ll give in to him eventually, and though you hate to admit it, you know this too.  
Despite being at college whilst he’s stuck repeating senior year, you rarely go a week without seeing each other. The standoff you’re currently in is nothing new; in fact, it’s almost a ritual you play out every time Eddie decides he wants your company.
Which is often.
All he has to do is play it cool, flash that disarming smile and wait for your resolve to crumble. He has you wrapped around his finger and he knows it.  
Still, it won’t stop you from trying to drag this out for as long as possible. “Look at me, Eds. Do I look like I’m in the mood for a party? 
“A pyjama party maybe” he smirks, eyeing your choice of outfit. 
“Pyjamas mean I’m in for the night” you state, and he sighs. 
“Off you go” 
“What?” 
“Go and get dressed”  
“Not happening” you retort, trying to ignore the intense eye contact he’s serving you right now.
You wait for him to come back with a smart remark or a sound piece of logic, but he simply continues to stare, eyebrows raised and a smile playing across his lips.  
“What? Why are you staring at me?”
Still nothing. Just a cool, patient stare that holds your gaze in a way that stirs up something in the back of your mind, something that you choose to ignore this time and every other time he plays this game.  
The longer he stares, the thicker the tension grows. You cross your arms tighter across your chest, caging in any questionable feelings that threaten to surface. Not a good idea, you tell yourself.  
Not with Eddie.  
“Give up, Munson. I’m not coming and that’s final” 
***
Twenty minutes later you’re sat in the passenger seat of his van, scowling out of the window as he drives. Every so often Eddie glances over at you, a victorious smile pulling at the corners of his lips.
“You scrub up well” he murmurs suddenly, and you look down at the outfit he’d given you five minutes to pick out and put on.  
You roll your eyes. “Don't try and butter me up”. 
“No, it’s true. You're looking good” he counters, no trace of teasing or sarcasm in his voice - he means it.
You shuffle down further in your seat, turning your face away to avoid looking at him. “Thanks, Eds” you mutter indistinctly, and Eddie grins.   
“Any time”. 
***
An hour or so after arriving, you realise that your earlier reservations had been correct; high school parties just aren’t as fun when you’re a college student.
Still, Eddie seems to be having a great time. Over the past year he’s managed to find more and more of his own people, finally breaking out of his reject status and gaining a well-deserved amount of attention for Corroded Coffin. You’re endlessly happy for him, softening some of the guilt you’d felt at more or less abandoning him when you moved on.  
What you’re feeling right now, though, is very out of place. Perhaps it’s just your own insecurities, but sometimes you swear you can see people looking at you with thinly veiled confusion. How can you, a college student, fit into his life?  
The last question is one that has been playing on your mind uncomfortably often in recent months. You feel guilty for even thinking it, knowing that your friendship hasn’t changed at all since you left for college. It’s stupid, you tell yourself, in a bid to squash your negative thoughts back into the locked box they belong in.  
It’s the same box which holds other thoughts about Eddie, ones which aren’t so negative.  
Ones which enter your mind as you watch him from across the room, laughing and joking with a group of young metalheads who’ve already had a few beers too many. He stands tall and confident, a hand brushing idly through his messy hair. It’s a force of habit that he can’t seem to stop himself from doing, an idiosyncrasy that you love to tease him about.
You smile as you watch him, thoughts drifting back to a recent afternoon you and Eddie had spent together. 
“Ten times in as many minutes”
Eddie looks over at you from his position on the couch, nose crinkled up in confusion. “What are you on about? 
“That little hair thing you do, I’ve been counting. It’s like…” 
You run a hand through your hair, flicking your head back to mimic his gesture with the addition of an over-exaggerated pout. 
“I do not make that face” he protests, only to earn more hair flicking and preening from you as you stroll around your living room. 
“Oh hey there, I’m Eddie” Flick. “Don’t mind me, I’m just…” Flick. “Making sure everything looks…” Flick. “Perfect!” Flick.
“I’ve never said that in my life” Eddie scoffs, watching your performance with frustrated bemusement.
You run a hand through your hair again, stopping briefly in front of the mirror to admire yourself. “Do I look metal enough?” you ask, flashing him a teasing smile over your shoulder.
“Come on now” he warns playfully, “Don’t make me have to come over there and stop you” 
But you’re enjoying yourself too much to stop, only spurred on by his warning. “Look at my curls, aren’t they luscious? It takes effort to have hair this spectacular” you continue, as he pushes himself up onto his feet.  
“That’s it, you’re done for” 
You pick up the pace as he begins to follow you. “I’m Eddie Munson and I can’t even last sixty seconds without touching my hair”  
“Brace yourself” he advises coolly, hardly having to make an effort to catch up. Still you persist, caught up the thrill of the moment… and besides, a big part of you wants him to catch you.  
“I have the most beautiful hair in all of Hawkins!” you announce, seconds before his arms wrap around you from behind and pull you tight into his body. He wrestles you onto the sofa with ease, pinning you down into the cushions with his full weight.  
“Jesus you’re strong” you manage to blurt out through your laughter, as he grins down at you.  
“Damn right I am”. 
You stare up at him as you try to get your breath back, neither of you moving from your tangled position. As your breathing calms, you became aware that you can feel his heartbeat through his chest. His breath is warm against your neck, his face mere inches away from yours, his knee between your thighs… and suddenly the playfulness of the moment shifts.  
The room fills with an unfamiliar energy, one which both excites and scares you. It’s the second emotion that you feel the strongest, however, and the cautious part of your mind pushes through the fog and takes over.  
“And you’re so heavy!” you exclaim, pushing a hand against his shoulder. In an instant, the tension is broken. Eddie springs off you as quickly as he can manage, stumbling a little as he gets to his feet. You sit upright, filled with a nervous energy. “I’m gonna grab a drink”.
***  You’re brought back to the present by the feeling of something coming to rest on your shoulder. Craning your neck to investigate, you discover that the object in question is, in fact, Eddie’s chin.
He grins tipsily at you, empty bottle in hand. “Hey” he says, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly, “How’s it going over here?”  
You’ve been too caught up in your reminiscing to even notice his approach, and you hope the pang of embarrassment you suddenly feel isn’t obvious. “Having a pretty good night” you lie, and his face lights up at your words. 
“Hell yeah, that’s what I like to hear!” He slurs, nudging your neck with his nose. 
Eddie is already a pretty affectionate guy when sober, but Drunk Eddie always takes this to a whole new level. After a few beers you always find yourself on the receiving end of countless hugs and compliments, personal space becoming an alien concept to him.  
“Seems like someone’s having a pretty good night too” you tease as you turn to face him, watching him sway a little as he tries to re-steady himself.  
“Every night’s a good night when you’re around” he sighs, ruffling your hair with an uncoordinated hand.  
“Looks like a few beers might have something to do with it too” you suggest, and he shakes his head vigorously.  
“What are you talking about, I’ve only had one”. 
“You liar!” You gasp, mock-accusingly.  
Eddie slips his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, pressing his warm flushed cheek against yours. “Maybe more than one then, but who’s counting?” 
“Clearly not you” 
His face drops. “Are you mad at me?” 
“Of course I’m not mad at you, Eddie” you reassure him, nudging his shoulder gently with yours. “I’d be the same if I didn’t have class in the morning”  
You feel his body relax into yours once again, and he squeezes you a little tighter. “Good, don’t want to make you mad. I’d hate it if you hated me” 
You can’t help but laugh at the implausibility of his words. How could anyone ever hate Eddie, least of all you?  
Hate is the opposite of what you feel for him, the voice at the back of your head chimes in unhelpfully.  
You squash it back down into its box once again, choosing your words a little more carefully.  “I’d never hate you, Eddie, you’re one of my best friends” 
A look you don’t quite recognise crosses his face, the drunken glint in his eyes replaced with an unfamiliar seriousness. He opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted by the arrival of a guy you recognise from another party a few weeks back. Eddie steps away from you to clap the guy on the shoulder, his fingertips brushing your hip as he withdraws.  
“Hey, good to see you!” he exclaims, glancing back at you briefly as he launches into a friendly conversation with the new arrival. You stay and chat obligingly for a minute or so, but your mind is preoccupied. Excusing yourself politely, you step outside to get some much-needed fresh air.  
The patio is still heaving with party goers, so you grab a beer from a cooler and keep walking until you set foot on the grass. It’s more peaceful here, though you can still hear the muffled sounds of the party even from this far away.  
You sit cross-legged, back resting against a grassy slope as you try to push Eddie’s expression out of your mind. Clearly you’re just overthinking things. The boy is drunk, nothing he did merits any deeper reading than that. You knock back a considerable mouthful of your drink, grimacing at the acrid taste.  
Why can’t you just enjoy yourself tonight? Eddie made all that effort to get you out to a great party and here you are, sitting alone like a loser. And why is it that you can’t seem to talk to him without joking or gently making fun of him? The nature of your friendship has always been playful, but recently it seems like nothing that comes out of your mouth around him is entirely genuine.  
It’s a defence, the voice at the back of your head chimes in. You’re overcompensating.  
It stops you from saying how you really feel. 
God damnit. It’s getting harder and harder to keep these thoughts locked in their box, no matter how many times you shove them back down.  
At the heart of the issue is one very plain fact:  
You like Eddie as more than a friend.  
Eddie sees you as a friend, a best friend at that, but apparently that’s no longer enough for you. It will have to be enough though, won't it? Your friendship is much too precious to risk derailing it with a few silly little feelings, and it just wouldn’t be fair to put that kind of pressure on Eddie anyway.  
What does it matter that your heartbeat quickens every time he smiles at you?  
What does it matter that ever single innocent compliment makes your cheeks heat up with an unstoppable rush of blood?   
And what does it matter that every time he hugs you goodbye, you wish it had been a kiss? 
None of it matters. You’ve kept your feelings hidden for this long, and hidden they must stay.  
“Found you!” 
You look up to see Eddie standing at the top of the slope, his expression triumphant. “What'ya doing all the way out here?” he asks, before plopping himself down beside you. He hasn’t sobered up at all since you’d last spoken. If anything, he’s even more drunk.  
“Fancied some fresh air” you explain, watching as he pulls up a handful of grass and sprinkles it into your lap.  
“Oh thanks, just what I wanted” you tell him, and he grins.  
“Should come back inside,” he suggests, gently elbowing you in the ribs. “Kinda looks like you're hiding”. 
You make a show of looking back at the party, and then sigh like you’ve just remembered something. “I should probably make a move actually, I have to be in class for half seven”. 
“Aw, come on!” 
Eddie leans into you, one arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you into a hug. “Wanted to party with you!” he slurs, eyes wide.  
You can’t help but smile at the puppy dog expression he’s pulling, something he tries whenever things aren’t going his way. Doe-eyes wide and pleading, lips soft and pouting... it nearly always works on you, so you’re going to have to stay strong if you’re going to leave any time soon.  
“We can party together another time” you assure him, which doesn’t seem to make a difference. 
“Won't enjoy myself if you’re gone” he grumbles, pouting exaggeratedly.  
“I’m sure you’ll be just fine, Mr Popular”. 
“You've enjoyed it though, right?” he asks suddenly, genuinely concerned. “I kinda dragged you out, but -” 
“I’ve had a great time, I’m glad you dragged me out” you insist. Another lie, to save his feelings.  
“So you don’t hate me?” 
You frown at him, intrigued as to why he seems so hung up on this tonight. “Why do you think I hate you? Like I said, you’re one of my best friends”  
“Oh, friends!” 
Eddie rolls his eyes dramatically, throwing his head back in drunken disdain. “Frieeeeends,” he repeats, dragging the word out as long as possible. You stare at him in confusion, wondering just how much more he’s had to drink.  
“Are you okay?” you ask, shuffling round to face him properly. This level of Drunk Eddie isn’t one you’re familiar with, and you're not sure what to make of it.  
He laughs bitterly. “Why wouldn't I be! We’re friends!” 
“Why do you keep saying it like that?” 
He ignores this, swaying away from you to rest against the slope. He folds his arms across his chest, staring up at the sky with an indignant expression on his face.  
“Eddie? Talk to me, I don’t get it” you implore, and he snaps round to face you. His expression changes from indignant to serious, his molten gaze focused on your face. He stares intently at you as he sits up straighter and swallows hard.  
“Fuck friends” he whispers back, his eyes dark and his brow furrowed. And again, with more certainty, “Fuck friends”.  
His hand comes up to caress your cheek, before he leans in slowly. He pauses just inches away from your face, those deep brown eyes staring into your own as if searching for objections. 
Entirely hypnotised by his touch, you have none.  
His expression softens entirely when he realises this, and he closes the gap between you with his lips pressed softly against yours.  
It’s gentle at first, cautious even, but it soon deepens as he feels you kiss him back. He kisses you with passionate enthusiasm, leaning into you as he lets himself be swept up in the moment.  
This is a moment you’ve hardly dared to dream about, and finally it’s happening. Eddie is kissing you. What does it matter that he’s drunk and… he’s… 
Eddie is very drunk. 
You can taste the alcohol on his lips, a sharp reminder that he isn’t altogether lucid right now. One drink alone has blurred the edges of your mind, and who knows how many he’s indulged in?  
Eddie is kissing you, but…  
No. 
This isn’t how you want it to happen.  
Your eyes snap open as you part from him suddenly, heart beating rapidly. He moves with you, his body swaying forwards as a soft sigh leaves his lips. You place a hand firmly on his shoulder, holding him up before he can fall into you entirely. “Eddie, I –“ 
“Hey Eddie! You out here?” 
The voice comes from the direction of the patio, and the pair of you crane your necks to see above the slope. “Down here!” Eddie yells back, his slurred speech confirming everything you’re thinking.  
He turns back to grin at you, a hand reaching out to tuck some stray hair behind your ear. “I’ll be right back for you” he mumbles softly, before staggering to his feet. You can only stare mutely up at him as he stumbles away, tripping over the uneven ground. 
For a moment you sit in silence.  
That kiss… it had felt so right, so electric, until you’d let overthinking get in the way.  
But maybe you aren’t overthinking. Eddie is undeniably drunk, so how can you possibly know if the kiss had been sincere on his part? He’s always been an affectionate drunk, and maybe this is just an extra, accidental step in that direction.  
Maybe he hadn’t known what he was doing at all.  
Maybe it was a mistake. 
It has to be a mistake. 
This is all wrong. You pull yourself to your feet and walk back into the house, hoping for some kind of distraction. More chatting, more dancing, less thinking - that sounds like a good plan.
It even works for a while, an hour or so passing as you surround yourself with strangers and do your best impression of someone enjoying a party.
You're always keeping one eye out for Eddie, though.
You just can’t face him right now. What would you even say? You can’t pretend that everything is okay, but you can’t have a serious conversation with him either.
Maybe you could just... leave?
Chances are he’s so drunk that he’ll forget you were there. Hopefully he’s so drunk that he’ll forget you’d ever been there. 
Forget that he’d kissed you.  
Yeah, leaving sounds really good right now. All you need to do is catch a ride home and you're in the clear.
It's only when you find yourself out on the street that you remember Eddie is your ride home.
Shit.
He's clearly not in any state to be behind the wheel, that's for sure. This isn't the first time he's been too drunk to drive, but usually he just tosses you his keys and lets you take the driver's seat. That option is looking like your best shot at getting home tonight, but a knot in the pit of your stomach stops you from just heading in and making it happen.
The thought of being stuck in the van with a still drunk and totally clueless Eddie is unbearable. He was so soft, so happy when he left you - and here you are, tense and confused and barely thinking straight. No, you can't deal with that right now.
It's too far to walk, though, and you don't know anyone else here. There's no chance of finding a cab in this part of town either; yeah, you're not going anywhere.
You're just gonna have to wait.
Maybe this is a good thing. You need a little space to cool off, and perhaps by the time Eddie emerges you'll have processed things enough to have normal conversation. Yeah, this is good.
This is great.
At least it's not cold, right? And there's a bench over there you can sit on whilst you wait for god knows how long, kept company only by your racing thoughts and the faint taste of his lips still lingering on yours...
Fucking hell.
Resigned to your fate, you settle onto the bench with your arms folded tight across your chest. The longer you have to wait, the longer you have until you need to face him again.
***
It's hard to tell how much time passes as you sit and watch the world go by, but a fair amount of partygoers have left already when you hear a familiar voice calling your name. You find yourself looking up without thinking, heart jumping in your chest when your eyes land on him.
The first thing you notice is how sober Eddie looks in comparison to a few hours ago. No swaying, no stumbling, no giddy grin on his face. Just a look of relief and a steady gait as he approaches, hand shoved deep in pockets.
Eddie slides casually onto the bench beside you, letting his knee knock gently into yours. “Hello, you” he says softly, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips. And then, after a moment’s pause – “I think we need to talk”. 
Your chest tightens. “What about?” you ask nonchalantly, watching as Eddie pushes a stray curl out of his face. 
“You don’t have to pretend” he sighs, rubbing his cheek. His gaze drops, and he stares down at the ground for a moment. You don’t try to fill the silence, unable to find the right words.
Suddenly he’s staring directly at you again, his wide eyes filled with the same seriousness you’d seen earlier. “I didn’t want this” he begins, a troubled frown creasing his brow. “I just thought… but…” 
You watched as he trails off, realising that this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “Eddie, I –“ 
“I shouldn’t have kissed you” 
The words hang in the air as you stare mutely at him, hardly wanting to believe your ears. This is the type of scene your imagination produces in your darkest moments of self-doubt, but this is real.  
Eddie had spoken those words and he meant them.  
The certainty in his voice ensures that you’re under no illusion: He regrets the kiss entirely. 
He can barely look at you, head turned away and shoulders hunched.
You will yourself to say something, anything, to make this a little easier. The tension thickens unbearably and finally you open your mouth to speak, hoping that the words will just form themselves. They don’t have to – Eddie finds his words first. 
“I fucked up” 
He clenches his fists, avoiding your gaze as he looks down at the table. “I’m sorry I ruined this. I’m sorry I got drunk and I’m sorry I acted like an idiot and I’m sorry I kissed you. I was so… stupid” he continues, jaw set and shoulders hunched.  
You stare at him in disbelief. 
“Eddie, you didn’t ruin any-“ 
“Yes, I did. You left without saying goodbye and now you're sat out here all by yourself? I really fucked up and I’m so sorry –“ 
“Stop saying that!” you protest, his constant apologies only making you feel worse. You aren’t angry at him, you’re angry at yourself. If only he knew how you really feel, but you can hardly tell him now when he seems to regret kissing you so much. It will only make this worse. 
Eddie rubs a hand across his face, swallowing hard “Can’t believe I thought it was a good idea. One drink would’ve been fine, fuck, even two, but no. Fucking stupid idiot had to overdo it”. 
He laughs bitterly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I thought you felt the same”. 
Your breath catches in your throat.  
Did he just… does he mean… 
Wait. 
This isn’t what you’d thought it was at all. Your heart begins to race, sitting up straighter as a swell of adrenalin rushes through your bloodstream.  
You’ve got it all wrong, and so has he.  
Eddie is doing exactly what you always do, letting his negative thoughts take over until he’s blinded to any other scenario. He hasn’t even heard your opinion and yet he’s assumed the worst.  
Your mind races as you think of the right words to say. If this is what you now realise it has to be, you need to stop him.  
You need to make this right.  
Eddie lets out a deep sigh, not noticing your sudden change in demeanour. “Our friendship is so fucking important and it was dumb of me to ruin that. I didn't wanna make you hate me but –“ 
“I don’t hate you. I love you”. 
Eddie looks up at you for the first time, his eyes wild and his lips parted. You stand as you continue to speak, the words bursting free in a rush of emotion. 
“I wanted you to kiss me! I kissed you back, Eddie, don’t you remember? But then I remembered you were drunk, so I thought maybe you didn’t mean it and I couldn’t deal with that. That’s why I left. But if you did mean it and we’re on the same page here I need you to tell me because I’m going to feel really stupid if I’ve just –“ 
“You love me?” he interrupts, his voice barely more than a whisper. 
“Yes,” you reply, “I’m in love you”. 
There’s a moment of silence as the two of you stare at each other. You’ve made your move, and now it’s all down to him.  
There’s a different tension in the air, filled with potential and fear and relief and everything in between. Your heart is beating so loud you’re sure he can hear it, but you hardly care.  
Slowly, Eddie stands, drawing his lip between his teeth as he takes a few steps towards you. "You love me?"
You can only nod, afraid that the slightest word will shatter this delicate moment.
"Shit" he breathes, "This is really happening".
Eddie stares at you in wonder for a moment, his dark eyes fixed on yours as he lets the sweet reality of the situation fully soak in. “Fuck, I love you too” he says, “I’m in love with you". 
He nods to himself, a gentle smile playing across his lips as he takes another step towards you. “I’m in love with you” he repeats, the smile broadening until it lights up his whole face. 
His beautiful, beautiful face.  
“And you’re in love with me”. 
He closes the distance between the two of you, his hand coming up to caress your cheek as he stares deeply into your eyes. All you can do is smile back, as everything falls into place.  
“How long?” he asks softly, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips and back again. 
“Years, probably” you tell him, and he lets out a shaky breath. 
“Years… I could’ve been telling you I loved you for years.” 
Eddie moves in closer, his face inches from yours. “I love you,” he whispers, his eyes full of tenderness and conviction. “I just... it feels so good to say it, y'know? I love you, I love you”. 
His other hand comes up to rest on your waist, pulling you even closer until your bodies are flush against each other. He tilts your chin gently, letting his lips brush softly against yours as he speaks; “I Love You” 
And with that, he presses his lips to yours.  
The kiss is slow, as the pair of you savour every second of it. Quickly, though, it heats up, his lips moving hungrily against your own and conveying all the deep emotion he’s kept locked up.  
It’s nothing like the kiss you’ve previously shared; where that had been rushed and uncoordinated, this is deliberate and refined and oh so perfect. It feels natural, so right, your hands moving up to lace themselves in his hair as his fingers stroke soft circles against your hip.  
You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing for, and you don’t care. Eddie loves you, and you love him, and that is all that matters. 
When your lips finally part, Eddie pulls you down onto the bench and holds you against his chest. He laughs gently to himself, tucking your head into the crook of his neck “Oh, sweetheart. We have so much lost time to make up for” 
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lemonisntreal · 1 year
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Do you have a Tone Deaf version of Clay Calloway?
(Perfectly fine if you don't. I was just curious, plus I love all your redesigns) 🦁🎸
SORRY THIS TOOK FUCKING FOREVER LMAO [been sitting in my inbox since FEBRUARY THIRTEENTH, HOLY SHIT :D]. YEAH, here he is :pppp a solid draft for you
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Lowkey [highkey] gave up on the clothing wrinkles on the arms, but I still like how it turned out I think. I don't have much on him in terms of rewrite, but I do have some, so I'll dump it all here under the cut.
I swear I love asks, please feel free to say/ask whatever, I'm just horrible at answering in a reasonable time-frame because I always want to make it this beautiful masterpiece and end up turning all of them into full-on posts- or, at least I want to ~_~
Headcanonssss-
Ash gave him that button off her jacket [probably needs to be resized I'm realizing lol] [also I totally adopted this headcanon from someone elses post- might've been yours. Whoever came up with it I love it <3]
Born during the reformation that happened after the war- basically, nobody was really fighting anymore during this time, but some big people in power were still being stupid [aka: not letting their prisoners go]
So that would be somewhere around 1947? Which would put his age at 61 in my universe [which is in 2008- the times are pretty much random, nothing really lines up irl. Ignore how they use tech and other things that shouldn't have been invented yet lol]
He grew up when the Skunk Dolls were new and popular and stuff. And he loved them- so much that the band actually kinda inspired his music career
[Skunk Dolls also made loads of protest songs btw. War stuff]
Takes a ridiculous amount of care with his mane, and if he lets you touch it, that's a true sign of trust
So the Piglets always like to play with it, and Ash has given him braids a few times
He's had that scruffy red jacket since his early days
I should draw patches on it-
Ash probably'll give him a quill or two to put in it too with all the patches and repair stitches
He wears a lot of plaid, I just didn't wanna draw it <3
Rough and torn up clothes too
Everything he owns has some sort of smudge or tear in it from motorbiking and/or just being himself <3
His ears are pierced in almost every way imaginable, and when Ash found out, she went CRAZY
Cue her getting him to try on a bunch of stuff
He likes wrought iron jewelry and has never been a fan of anything with gemstones in it
Buster is terrified of him, but Clay is just kinda a blunt person and it doesn't mix well with Buster sometimes. They get along eventually tho. There was also some really bad timing with the circumstances of how they even met in the first place too lol-
Johnny is also. Super terrified.
Buster and him are like "Ahhh.... that guy scares the living daylights out of me." "Ohh, thank god it's not just me-"
He has a strange out-of-pocket interest in astrology.
And in herbology and plants in general, but he picked that up from Ruby. Astrology was all his, and it is the one thing he will "nerd out" over
Also the kind of guy to make fun of you for nerding out too
Making fun of people is his love language
So is giving people food
He's not great with his words and can find it hard to express love by just telling someone. Back to the bluntness thing, you can often find him accidentally offending someone and he doesn't even realize it
The troupe very quickly learned this and it's more of an endearing trait of his to them [and to most people who know him]
REALLY good cook. Fantastic, in fact. Probably one of the best chefs out of any of the characters.
Learned the hard way that enlisting Buster's help in the kitchen is a bad idea. Also Ash isn't great either, but he actually tries to teach her some of his recipes. And she's quickly improving
Buster was just being an idiot and forgot you shouldn't microwave tinfoil
Clay travels a lot, but spends most of his time in Calatonia [he technically still lives at his and Ruby's house, but he's super scared of accidentally closing himself off again, so he only visits to check up on the flowers and maintain the property pretty much]
He's like Ash's second [and very cool] dad. Which- also intimidates Buster quite a bit :D
I feel like their dynamic could be a sitcom. Clay is Ash's awesome dad and Buster is Ash's lame [endearing] and oddly unhinged and anxious dad who feels like he has to be as cool as Clay [and always fails heehee]
Clay is more entertained by Buster's ridiculous criminal record than horrified and I don't know if that's worrying or just a classic Calloway W
He's a very nonchalant person
Ruby's death is the only time I can really think he had a legitimate emotional break that wasn't just him being snappy [which is also pretty rare]
Clay's also like an uncle to the Piglets
He's kinda just taken up the role of "super awesome miscellaneous family member" for everyone at this point
He's back performing again after Sing 2- just not frequently or putting out any new songs [on his own at least- he might do a collaboration or two with Ash]
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cat--comic · 11 days
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blog 1. happy birthday
welcome to the new cat comic blog! if you're reading this on tumblr, hello! if you're reading this on neocities, i love you more. page looks pretty snazzy, right? check out the very pretty melankorin.net, this page looked a lot more plain before i ate that page's design aesthetic.
ok.
it just so happens that yesterday, the 13th of april, 2024, was cat comic's first birthday. this comic is officially one year old! goo goo ga ga! it makes me glad and more than little scared that i've been working on this for so long. it's my longest-lived project to date and still going strong, which means a lot coming from my bloody trail of abandoned projects.
what the hell is cat comic about?
cat comic is a story born out of a lot of my fears vis-a-vis my creative projects. it's a story about creation, whether that deals with art, identity, or culture, and about the history that doggedly stamps itself on any creation, and about the problems of indie projects. it's a story about a cat and a dog and some other various animals who get into lots of trouble, and it's mainly a story about the end of the world.
i think you can tell that there's a lot of throughlines to my other work (unfinished or otherwise), which is pretty thematically appropriate. actually, cat comic was originally reusing far too much of eyrie, an old comic idea of mine. eyrie followed an aspiring paladin and their little buddy as they made their way to the shining capital of a theocratic nation, delving into a mirror world that reflected public perception of things along the way. it was a pretty fun concept.
anyway, it informed a lot of cat comic's original premise—it began with an ascent from belowcloud to a shining city in the sky. huh... sounds familiar. like eyrie, it also dealt a lot with divinity, mirrors, and perfection (as in: perfection in the eyes of society, not cat comic's current sense of it). it's fun looking back at these early drafts of cat comic because you can clearly see all the influences i was pulling on, big or small. i was pretty fine with doing this because, as it pains me to remember, cat comic was to be a "fun" and "short" project where i could "do whatever". haha.
cat comic's changed a lot since then and it's also hardly changed at all. a lot of the original ideas are still there in the batter, but it's also evolved into something pretty different and much closer to my heart. and it will continue to change and evolve! although perhaps not quite so drastically as it has over the last year.
what's the plan with this thing?
i had a conversation with a friend a while ago (hiii ardenna i know you're reading this. love you) about our respective story projects and our problems working on them as single creators. i don't have a team for art or writing—it's all me, babey—and that means everything about this project is going to take what we in the industry call a "long time".
this time next year, i want to have a comprehensive plot. that might sound like a lot of time for not a lot of work but believe me i need it—i'm doing a bit of a unique format for this story and i want to put the time in to make sure i stick the landing with it. my secondary goals for the next year also include finalizing designs for all of the main cast and making sure they're all fleshed out... basically, by next year, i want to be able to start actually drawing the comic. i don't want to start drawing it then but, just, you know, be able to.
as of last week, i've handed in my senior project (and passed with flying colors, thank you), which means i can start turning my attention to things other than that. i've already talked a bit in my 2024 blog post about my plans for the year and how i would like to devote the rest of the spring to exercising my comic muscles. i would like to stick to this plan, despite the fact that school is trying to murder me.
right now, i only have vague ideas of what those exercises will be. once i'm completely done with my senior project (report handed in at the end of this month) i'll start workshopping them. again, my priority with them is not telling a story so much as working on coloring, panelling and figuring out my workflow.
and, apart from my year-long goals and season-long goals, i just want to flesh out these pages a little more. i kind of rushed getting these up because i wanted to hit the birthday (and i didn't even manage that LOL). i want to get some more of my brain bits out on canvas! but they never tell you how hard it is to figure out how much you want to share and how much you want to keep to yourself for now. i'm making little lists and i think i'm doing a pretty good job.
final notes (SAPPY WARNING!!!)
thanks to my friends (hi again) who are very excited about my comic. it means an immeasurable amount. friendship forever
and to everyone else... remember: birds can't fly with wet wings. goodbye for now!
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pawseds · 1 month
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I convinced our Delta Green game master to have a play-by-post (basically text roleplay) section in our game's server and uhhhhh maybe I've been having too much fun with it. Writing is faster than drawing comics, what can I say?
(Long ramble about writing stories below hehe oops)
While we're here! A bit about writing: I like writing! I've written for loger than I've drawn for (because school). I think I'm better at writing than drawing for that reason (I'm more confident at least). I've written short stories. I've written short stories about TTRPG things. I've also written a ~100k word novel by hand for 2 years. While writing it, I had 'writing class' (technically AS/A level Ennglish Language classes). It was the only class I had confidence in and high expectations for.
With those 2 combined, I burnt out pretty quick LOL. Specifically, I had a big perfectionism issue because of the high expectations I had from my teacher and especially myself -- it was the one thing I knew excelled at in school, so I better do it well! After I was done with the novel and A levels, I was supposed to edit the novel. It's been years and I haven't done it yet, and I wouldn't write non-assignment stories (except 2) until now. Writing became more nerverwracking than it was fun, so why would I?
To get back to the PBP thing: I've been in a campaign that was fully PBP. With my mindset being the way it is, hey! This is just one big writing exercise, so I ran along with that and had fun with it. I saw how some players would make their own PBP and essentially monologue/have a scene only with their PC. That was cool to see.
And now, my current Delta Green campaign (tagged 'Helvetia'). Hrothgar (guy in drawing) and his kids were ported over from a previous D&D campaign (the fully PBP one!), so the crew had a very well defined background already. Of course I get tons of drawing ideas for them, except I don't have the time to draw them all (compsci hard). But since the server has a PBP section, I had like 2 weeks to kill between session 0 and 1, and I was bursting with ideas... I made a lot of solo PBPs that were essentially short stories.
It didn't quite hit me until some time ago, but the PBPs actually made me enjoy writing again -- enjoy it a lot more, in fact! I think the format of Discord threads and messages removed most perfectionism tendencies I had. I just had to fire the story away, message by message. It didn't have to be amazing, and it was fun! (Also I really don't know how to shut up with them LOL)
I'll definitely be cleaning these PBPs up and posting them here as stories. Some of them are just silly, fun, slice-of-life character sketches. (These were the stories I wrote after my novel... and yes, they were about my other set of Delta Green characters LMAO) (and I've posted them here under pawsedswrite btw!) But some I see as legitamite short stories that I would edit more heavily and present as a short story. They were the kinds I could see myself writing on a document rather than on Discord.
Well, I lied. 'I would edit' is false. I have already edited one, because I spent like 5-6h writing this one PBP (oops) instead of writing the draft for my short story class/elective (oops 2). I joked to my two friends saying that I could just submit it as my assignment. Apparently, they both really liked it and said the dialogued slapped. So I did!
I procrastinated like hell on it though, because I was very nervous to go back into the PBP with an axe to edit it. Being in a writing class where nearly everyone else has been formally studying writing for some years kinda puts some pressure on ya!
Like the last assignment (which I'll post here after editing), I had a lot of worries. But the feedback and grade I got from my last assignment, the peer review I got from the current one, and also the support from those two friends (shoutout @katastrofish <3) made me feel more confident in myself. And also the fact that I had a lot of fun editing the PBP!
Uhhh this ramble was way longer than expected LMFAO if you've made it this far, damn, thanks for reading! If you also write or have similar experiences, feel free to share em. And have a good day!
(bonus POV editing)
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noir-drabbles · 18 days
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Drafts 1
Summary: Just an unfinished solo writing thing while playing Iron Valley. Basically it was just me testing out what it is I wanted, trying to create my own setting and characters, but then my brain got bored of it. So, I figured I may as well dump it here.
(I said I was going to start dumping my drafts here and I am going to commit to it. Drafts will be half actual prose writing and rambles on the side because I want people to enjoy the ideas and characters I have in my head. Hope this is fun!)
(Oh yeah, here's the link to the game I was playing. Lot of reading but it's easy to start and understand. Really does test out one's creative muscles.)
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Today’s Spring pick for the Luminariae Post is as follows:
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When a new branch grows, I always worry for what it may carry. The bark upon the trunk is many years old and yet it still insists on growing new leaves, new buds, and new fruits. A large and wise old tree, and yet it didn’t know age. It didn’t know where it should draw its limits. It simply grew and produced, as it always has, even when the threat of disease was always there.
But I’m not scornful. I’ll simply grab my polished clippers and snap off whatever rot has caught onto the leaves, onto the branches. I’ll eat the fruit it gives me, and carve a flute out of the wood I snipped off.
I’ve been there when you were young, when each new leaf would make me dance in the mud because I keep forgetting not to over water you. When your fruits would spawn out of seemingly nowhere, like your love for the world could not be contained, so you had to give it back as much and as fast as you could.
You’ve long outgrown me. I can’t even climb up to the very top of you as I once used to with my own little sister. You could still support me, but the youth in your new branches are not what they used to be. And yet, you still try and grow just as much fruit as you can, even when it’s no longer anything anyone can eat.
You’re just an old fool. You and I are two of a kind. And that it why you will always be one of my dearest friends.
And every day, I thank you for being who you are.
– Carmen
Heyo, author Noir here. So, the idea I had for this little segment is that every start of the new season, the Luminariae Post would post a submission that was sent to them by one of the residents in this small town of Arbor Hills. Typically they pick submissions that have something to do with the current season, or just a general connection to nature that can be connected to said season. It's also meant for the regular folk to take a peek into a small part of that resident that wrote the piece. Just fluff writing things.
Oh, and Carmen is a big ol dragon man, the one that basically provides the Reader with a house and a job, a nice bouncing point since the Reader starts off with literally nothing, not even clothes. He's a nice man, good roommate and clearly misses having other people live in his house. There's this big tree that the whole town pays their respects towards because of the sheer size and reach of its roots. In fact, most of the plants and trees you find often end up connecting their roots to that big tree, as it provides nutrients to said plants, leading to them weathering even the toughest of disasters. Rumor has it that Carmen was the one that planted that tree when it was a sapling, but that's just a rumor.
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Spring 2
Time: [0/4]
| Forecast: Sunny | Luck: Neutral | Lucky Color: Lemon |
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“Did you hear? Apparently our dear local baker has been in need of a new recipe to put as a potential special.”
“Oh? Which one? Is it that sweetie Ivory or that nutty Obsidian?”
“Don’t be mean Martha. But it is nutty Obsidian. Apparently he’s going a little crazy from lack of inspiration and just wants something new to really make his day pop from grays to happy pinks.”
“Hehehe, well in that case, you think he’ll want to try out some of my homemade cookies? Maybe that’ll perk him right up and get his head out of the pizza oven ashes?”
“Bleh, if you want to kill him… But yes, let’s. I’ll be the merciful one and bring him some of my delicious tea.”
“Let’s poison him together, Lily.”
The idea I had here is basically a cutscene being played out every day, where a couple of characters do something or have a conversation that implies a very long request. The town bulletin is still a thing, but those quests will end up being pretty short. The short requests do change often, I'd say once every two days, while the longer requests are more persistent, changing once every five days. Obsidian is basically this mad scientist-like baker that loves to go crazy with the designs and flavors of his baked goods. And, well, he's prone to losing inspiration and just wants something to get that flow going. He's a pretty intense cosmic star dude, the kind of energy that easy to be overwhelmed with. He has a sister named Ivory who helps out in the bakery, but is mostly found working with wood as the local carpenter. She's not gentle, she has that quiet intensity about her, and is just as wacky with her woods craft. She will get the request done, and will probably add some else to it. A weird feature that you probably won't notice until you accidentally activate it. Like a table that can convert itself into a suit of wood armor. You never know with these two.
Oh, and I have no clue who Martha and Lily are. Just that they're best friends who love to gossip, and were once very competitive rivals in school before someone tried to accuse them of cheating so they'd be unable to participate in theater. Yeah, those two were theater kids, and their rivalry, for the most part, was a fun exaggerated thing on their part that got a liiiiittle too real, but they're good now. They're middle-aged and married to their respective spouses.
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“You doing alright?”
You snapped out of your reverie by a rumbling voice that’s not quite meant to overpower the general noise, so much as it should rumble underneath one’s feet.
You didn’t look at Carmen. You looked at his horns instead, all scratched up and chipped at in all their ridged and curling glory. It’s hard to look at him in the eyes. They aren’t particularly piercing, they’re just filled with a love for the world around him. A gentle and boundless love that he’s willing to share with you, a fellow roommate but a stranger still.
It’s… a lot. Too much. But it’s fine. He’s good and nice. He makes you all those warm and filling meals, and lets you take up a room in his house. You had nowhere else to go, but he gave you a hand anyway.
So, are you doing alright? He did ask.
You hummed out a yes. Because words would be too much in all this noise. The sensation of your throat rumbling, of moving your lips and making a conscious effort not to stutter. You’re already a little on edge as is.
“Hmm,” he copied your tone, though you didn’t know if that meant he believed you or not, “I know there’s a lot of little noises, but a small outing like this is good. It is something to get used to, that’s for certain.”
It’s… yeah, he’s right. It is a lot. Carmen’s farm isn’t exactly all the quiet either, with all the cows, chickens and bees he has, but there’s a different quality to the noise of people. It’s a… a rhythm, of sorts. The livestock back home are always keeping out a listening ear to the nature around them, so their own noises follow that beat, usually. But people… don’t really care, nor can they truly listen.
The rhythm isn’t bad, in the sense that it’s wrong and that people should pay more attention. It’s just… different. Absorbed in their own little pocket of time. And those pockets just, overlap in your ears.
You’ll probably get used to it, in the same way you got used to Carmen when you first woke up to his face looming right over under the arbor. It was an adjustment. The man’s over seven feet tall with a broad frame to fit, built over the years from heavy farm work. But, you suppose that’s the average height of all dragons. Well, his specific branch of dragon anyway. You don’t know any other dragon.
You nodded and let your eyes wander over the sparse crowd around you, to the area you’re both sitting on a bench in.
The village’s center, built around a pretty fountain that’s filled with little seashells, all in various pastel colors of white, blue and pink. One little kid in white sandals had to lay her belly on the ledge of the fountain just to reach in and drop her shell. Her little transparent wings fluttered with her excitement, dropping flecks of pink dust here and there.
A water spout spat right up her nose and the little fairy girl snorted then gave a big powerful sneeze. She launched herself right into the air. Luckily, before you or Carmen could rush right over, her father was right there to catch her.
Chuckling, her fairy father said, “I got a precious gift from the heavens!”
“No!” She yelled, raising her arms high like claws, “I am your worst nightmare! I eat your dreams and your banana splits!”
He gasped, “A monster! Oh no!”
She kicked her feet and lost a sandal in her giggles.
You jumped when Carmen gave chuckles of his own. The sheer volume of his voice never ceases to surprise you, that his happiness can be something so… loud? Strong? It’s solid. Which is kind of dumb now that you think about it. You’ve seen him lift an entire tree trunk with his arms and shoulder alone. It shouldn’t be shocking at all to find that his laugh has just as much power behind it.
But it is, because he would always bend down just so people could hear him. He didn’t like raising his voice just as much as he hated going into the details of his private life.
And with a flinch, Carmen realized as much. He looked to the side, scratched the back of his neck, and sighed out, “Sorry.”
Did you look bug-eyed? You probably did.
You shook your head at Carmen. He doesn’t need to apologize to you. It’s not his fault that you’re easily startled. Besides, he’s the one going out of his way to get you situated in this place. He didn’t have to do it, but he did anyway.
He nodded to you then hovered a hand right over your shoulder. He stopped, waited, and when you shifted closer, he patted you. The weight and strength of his bones alone almost made your joint creak.
“I’ll be going on ahead. I need to buy some things for the gardening day this week.” Carmen reached into his pocket and took out a few notes that you don’t really need. He pays you plenty for your services, but saying no to him–especially when he wants to spoil or be nice–just leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He stuffed them in your hands. “Go around, explore. Or relax by the community garden if you’d like. I’ll be by Peach’s place for the most part. I won’t go home unless you want to, okay?”
Ah, here it is, the big send off. You can’t really complain since you asked for this kind of time for yourself, but augh… It’s difficult all the same. You’ve been here for the better part of one year and you’ve yet to make a single friend. You haven’t really been trying, to be perfectly honest. Whenever you go out into the village on your moped, you’re strictly in working mode, schedule and time all planned out. Whenever people would try and talk to you during those hours, you get antsy and anxious.
You hate being off schedule. On top of that, if you weren’t working, you were around Carmen all the time. He’s a friendly and well known face. It’s only natural for people to gravitate towards him rather than you, especially when you would rather hide in his shadow than look at anyone.
You weren’t trying to make friends. Everything was just too unfamiliar for you to do that, or even think of it. And nobody pushed you to do that. In a way, you’re grateful for that, that the people here left you alone for the most part. A nice respect of your time and attention. They made attempts to talk to you, certainly, but that was about where the pushiness ended.
And, now, you’re calmer-ish. You can take the time and try.
You can go anywhere and make a friend.
Augh, you still can’t talk. Words just really don’t want to come out.
Well, baby steps, baby steps.
Carmen has since left you to yourself, with money in your hands. A nice sizable amount. Can’t buy a microwave with it, but you can grab a while feast of pastries if you wanted to.
…you know what? That sounds like a good idea. Having something to munch on while trying to make a friend would help calm you down some. Besides, a lot of people frequent the bakery. Surely you’ll be able to find someone who wants to befriend you.
That and you’ve heard of the gossip between those two women over there. Apparently the local baker needs some help. You don’t have any ideas, but maybe you’ll come up with something by the time you get there?
The crowd didn’t really get any thinner as you walked down the white stone path. Lots of people were gathered in small packs, but they were polite enough to shift slightly out of your way. You followed the scent of bread and soon enough found yourself inside the cozy atmosphere of a bakery.
Honestly, it seemed more like a home than it did a bakery, which makes sense since it looked like a store/home hybrid from the outside. But, rather than a home that seeks to hide emptiness with store bought furniture the owner vaguely likes, each table, chair and even the frame of the mirrors in this place were clearly handmade.
It was small though, and all the furniture had people either gathering or sitting on it. There wasn’t anywhere you could just pick and sit down for an hour or two while you mindlessly pick at your pastry and watch the people go by.
A healthy routine makes for a good base for potential friendships. At least that’s how Carmen puts it. You’re not sure if it’s true, but you may as well try, right?
You walk to the back of the line and wait. At the front, behind the register was someone that you can only describe as a galactic black hole. The white light that makes up what you think is hair slowly swirls around in a clock-wise motion, collecting light like a vent does smoke as it slowly gathers in some dark center you can’t make out. The white light hair fades into a dark shadow dappled with white little star pinpricks, doing nothing to to take away from the bright eyes that look around this way and that.
This person had no mouth to speak of as he nodded and packaged a new box of pan dulce. It’s interesting to you, watching the way their body never quite stabilized into something truly solid, but it was enough for his clothes to hang on. He didn’t have a uniform, it was just a set of comfy billowing clothes that had little tears and big patches over what was probably holes.
His form stretched up, bending in ways a shadow would as he gave the box to the person waiting in line.
“You wanted a surprise and a surprise is what you’ll get!”
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Aaaand this is where I lost my steam, and I had a pretty good pace going too.
Reader is basically this dryad person that was born from the big tree(of which I have yet to name, eh) and as such, has little to no knowledge of many things beyond the general basics. Socializing is obviously not their thing. Many of the towns people just think they're a traveler from afar that suffers from amnesia, but since nobody witnesses the Reader coming out of the tree, it can't really be disputed that they're not a traveler.
There's a biblically accurate angel just, hanging out in Arbor Hills. He's the current master carpenter and boss of Ivory. He spends most of his time sleeping, and in the rare times one manages to make a request to him, you can be sure that whatever furniture he makes will never break, and will even have a little buff to them.
The angel's name is Peach, because someone called him "an absolute peach." With the last name Angel for the sake of simplicity. No matter how you poke and prod at him, you can't get details about his past, you'll just get references about how empty of an existence he was living before coming here. Now he can dream all he likes.
There's a tradition at the start of a new year to share stories you may have or have written. Arbor Hills is all about communal story crafting, so often the whole town will come together to either craft a new fairy tale, or add on to another existing tale. The only rule is that it has to have at least one true event in there, or be based on a true event. So you could have witnessed a bug trip over grass and flip itself over and craft a tale about a malicious weed that seeks to grow and prank all the bugs that nipped at it. That kind of thing. So, one of the Promises is to get ideas and make a story before Spring 1 rolls around. There are usually two groups, one group that's full of people that have written their stories on their own, and the other group that shares their ideas for a group story making session. Perfection is not expected. Just have fun. And if you don't want to make a story, just be a listening ear.
There's also another tradition where, after reaching a certain age, kiddos go to the community garden to pick out a seed they like and plant it somewhere in the town. This tradition does stretch out beyond just for the kids, you can do this as a new adult, or when you reach a huge milestone in your life. Don't worry about having to take incredible care of it, these seeds are magical and are often deeply connected to you. They grow as you grow, and if they get sick, you can be assured that they'll be taken care of by the garden spirits of the forest.
There aren't many dragons to be found. There be different types of dragons, but their lifespan varies quite a bit between them.
Same for the dryad. There's nobody else quite like you, and if there is, they're usually no bigger than the size of your palm. Tiny, squeaky things.
I know I have more things sitting in the brain, but I need to prodded at to really remember. So, if you want to poke at my brain, be my guest!
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