#having fun with being a little messier

[dragondawdles]

know what sure. I'll put this on tumblr. compilation of nearly every chaotic audrey scribble of mine I can find to date

#wandersong #wandersong spoilers #audrey #audrey redheart #audrey wandersong #dragon doodles #underlining scribble btw this is like raw from my artfiles/sketchbooks #this is MUCH messier than I usually post on tumblr but. I kinda wanna try being looser about my personal art standards. also this is funny #some of these have contexts of aus (there's pmd au post-canon and I think a little bit of my roleswap aud?) #some of these have contexts of conversations from the wandersong discord #and some of these are because she's really fun to draw LOL #but this also accidentally became a pressurized catalogue of both how I stylize a character and where my art's been for the past few months

[suguann]

an. part two of this | masterlist

You tell him you broke up with your boyfriend while he’s away for work, bunked up in a safe house in the middle of nowhere with shit reception, hearing your words as clear as day as if they weren’t the chopped-up version coming through his burner phone.

“It just…didn’t work out.”

It didn’t work out.

He pretends his stomach doesn’t pleasantly twist because he’d expected it to happen eventually. He’s not happy about it—although it does make the desert heat more bearable in his heavy tactical gear—and tells Soap to fuck off when he comments on it.

It was a one-time fuck because Simon doesn’t date. He’s tried in the past before he met you—the flowers, the late-night dinners—but with him being gone almost every other month (sometimes longer, shorter if he’s lucky), it never works out in the end. Sleeping with you twice would fall under that category, the quasi-relationship kind, and make everything messier than it needs to be. 

Just some fun, no strings, those are the words he promised.

If only he believed them.

He does, for all of two weeks until he’s home again, and it’s summer, so you’re wearing a flowy dress that shows off the long expanse of your legs. 

(He’s a goner—not even sure why he tried to think otherwise.)

That one time he’d promised turns into a second, both of you stumbling into your apartment after a night out. The music from the pub still thumping loudly underneath your floor as he pushes you against the front door, hands in your hair—on your waist, underneath your skirt, down your thigh to hitch it over his waist—teasing your mouth open with a swipe of his tongue across your bottom lip.

You make this delighted little noise in the back of your throat, arching into him, and his hand spans down your stomach, beneath your underwear, to nudge your messy clit with his knuckle, wanting to hear all the sounds you make now that he has you alone. 

A whiny cry of his name rewards him—jeans tightening around his waist at the sound—when his fingers go down, down until they press against your tight little hole, one finger pressing inside slowly. "If I make you cum, I get to fuck you here.”

You smile prettily, and it disarms him. “If you make me cum, you can fuck me however you want.”

Neither of you makes it to the bed, falling asleep on the living room floor instead, the blanket from the couch draped haphazardly over both of you with his arm curled over your waist.

That night had been a slip of judgment, a product of wanting something warm and soft after several months of only having his hand for company.

It happens again and again, and he keeps letting it happen until there’s no more hiding under the guise of just fun because it somehow turns into a lot more than that.

Simon can’t explain how it happens—maybe becoming something he can touch and hold and think about often—but he finds himself in an exclusive relationship with you that isn’t exactly a relationship because he’s unsure of the ins and outs that they entail.

(Always has been.)

His father was a shit role model, and it was always easier finding someone new who didn’t know his name or care about his scars and only wanted a nice fuck. There had never been any point in shooting for something serious when it was always out of the question for him, until now, that is.

He takes you to that over-rated restaurant overlooking the Thames Marcus never brought you to. A picture of you and him with the sunset in the background—your smile almost blinding in the photo—becomes his home screen, and he finds he doesn’t care when Soap has something to say about it.

He lets you do nonsensical shit, like buying small plants for his house that are surely going to die from him being gone before he comes up with the great idea to give you a key. It’s just a key.

(It’s more than just a key.)

Simon finds himself asking if he can come over more often throughout the week, which slowly moulds and shifts into nights filled with things other than sex—sleeping after a long day of work, cuddling on the couch, cooking together, going to the movies—he doesn’t try to make a big deal out of it because you used to hang out all the time without sex. 

(Somewhere, there’s a but in there.)

There’s still no label to whatever this is, and he wonders if you want him to be the first to say the thing you’ve both been dancing around for a little over…he can’t remember, but he knows it’s been long enough for your things to mix in with his at his house. 

Be with me because I’m yours, and you’re mine, that’s what he’s trying to say, and it’s never the right time. Men like him—a little broken, rough, and jagged around the edges sharp enough to cut—aren’t good with words like that.

(That’s what he thought.)

If he hadn’t seen you talking to a guy at the pub, eyes crinkling in that same sweet way whenever Simon makes you laugh, he wonders if he would’ve been the first to break from the start. He knows it’s your job as a bartender to be nice, but his jaw clicks at the sight of the guy leaning over the bar and into your space, almost too close.

The feeling doesn’t go away until he has you spread out on your mattress under him—clothes haphazardly peeled out of the way for him to put his mouth on you—your lips pursed tight around two of his fingers to give you something to focus on as his other hand works between your thighs, pressing down on your tongue when gurgled little sounds slip out.

He teases you with a small, pink vibrator he found inside your bedside table, your legs kicking out and toes curling into his calves.

“Mine. This is mine, love,” he groans, pressing you further into the bed with his weight. “Do you understand?”

You nod, tears pearling and leaking from the corner of your eyes.

“Lemme cum,” you whine, words muffled. “Simon, I want to cum. Please.”

He won’t lie that he’s close after jerking into his fist to the sight of you writhing on the sheets—swears he can feel his heartbeat throbbing against the back of his fingers—takes in your surprised expression when he pushes forward, impaling you on the first few inches of his cock.

His stomach twists from the squeal that escapes your throat, and fuck, your cunt, so hot and tight with little pulses that drive him crazy, only growing tighter when he turns up the speed on the vibrator.

“‘Mm, gonna cum. I’m—”

He grits his teeth as you start to flutter around his cock once he’s rooted inside you. “Go on—fuck—go on, love. Let me feel it.”

You look so perfect like this, like a dream: lips parted into an enticing little O with his name tumbling out in breathy mewls, tits hanging out from the bra he shoved to the side, eyes glassy and unfocused. 

“So fucking pretty.” He kisses your throat, panting into your sweat-slick skin, and it’s not long before he’s falling over the edge with you. 

Next time, he’ll have the courage to tell you: that you’re not someone he calls for a meaningless fuck on the weekend, that Simon misses you when he’s gone and can’t wait to come home, that he wants to try with you—except not when he’s balls deep and trembling inside your heavenly cunt.

But the smile he feels against his shoulder makes him think that maybe…

Maybe you already know.

#simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod smut #cod imagine #cod x reader #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost smut #.things i write

[captainfantasticalright]

In 1985, one of the only persons interested in an interview with a “new” writer called Terry Pratchett, after his publication of the Colour of Magic, was one Neil Gaiman. Neil Gaiman was writing for Space Voyager at the time. "The Colour of Pratchett" was the name given here:

It ran exactly one page inside the June/July issue of that year. The interview took place in a Chinese restaurant in London.

Here is Neil many years later holding that issue. You can see it here if you want. Warning: extremely emotional video.

Neil arrived wearing a grey homburg hat. “Sort of like the ones Humphrey Bogart wears in movies” he later wrote. (Before saying that in fact he did not look like him, but like someone wearing a grown-up’s hat). Terry Pratchett, photo courtesy of one @neil-gaiman, was in a Lenin-style leather cap and a harlequin-patterned pullover. At this point, Terry was already a hat person, although not that hat.

Terry offered Neil this : "An interview needn't last more than 15 minutes. A good quote for the beginning, a good quote for the end, and the rest you make up back at the office"*. (Terry Pratchett had worked many years in journalism by this point ).

But the meeting went terribly well. The two of them realized they had "the same sort of brains". So well indeed, that in 1985, Neil had shown Terry a file containing 5282 words, exploring a scenario in which Richmal Crompton's William Brown had somehow become the Antichrist. Was a collaboration in the cards as of that moment? Not really. But Terry found in Neil someone to whom he could send disks of work in progress and to whom he could pick up the phone sometimes when he hit a brick in the road of his writing.

Terry loved it and the concept stayed in his mind. A couple of years later, he rang Neil to ask him if he had done any more work on it. Neil had been busy with The Sandman, he had not really given it another thought. Terry said, "Well I know what happens next, so either you sell me the idea or we can write it together". **

And as you know, unless you’ve been living in Alpha Centauri, the rest is history. That was the beginning of what would become William the Antichrist and later would get the name Good Omens:The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. (Title provided by Neil Gaiman and subtitle by Terry Pratchett).

From the introduction to William the Antichrist: “In the summer of 1987 several odd ideas came together: (..)I found myself imagining a book called William the Antichrist, in which a hapless demon was going to be responsible for swapping the wrong baby over, and the son of the US Ambassador would be completely undemonic, while William Brown would grow up to be the Antichrist, and the demon would need to stop him ending the world. The unfortunate demon, whom I called Crawleigh, because Crawley was a nearby town with an unfortunate name, would have to sort it all out as best he could.

It felt like a story with legs.

Terry took the 5,000 words, and rewrote them, calling me to tell me what he was doing and what he was planning to do. The biggest thing he was going to do, he told me, was split the hapless demon into two characters – a would-be-cool demon in dark glasses (which was, I think, Terry’s way of making fun of me, a never-actually- cool journalist in dark glasses) who had renamed himself Crowley, and a rare-book dealer and angel called Aziraphale, who would embody all the English awkwardness that either of us could conceive.”

William the Antichrist being a direct inspiration of the 1976 film The Omen. If the baby swap had just been a little bit messier and the kid had gone off somewhere else he would have grown up as somebody else. “And then there was a beat and I thought, I should write it, it will be called William the Antichrist” says Neil. ***

“The first draft of Good Omens was a William-book. It was absolutely in every way it could be a William book. It had Violet Elizabeth Bott, it had William and the Outlaws, it had Mr. Brown”.

Over time they realized that they would have more creative freedom if they in their own words filed off the serial numbers. William and the Outlaws becoming Adam and the Them.

But the spirit of Just William was never far away.

The joy for Neil was to construct “perfectly William sentences”. The one when Anathema tells Adam that she has lost the Book, and he tells her that he has written a book about a pirate who became a famous detective and it is 8 pages long… that’s “a William sentence”.

Good Omens was also inspired by a particularly antisemitic moment in The Jew of Malta and John le Carre's spy novels. (Neil’s ask)

“When we finished the book we estimated that the words were 60% Terry’s and 40% mine, and the plot, such as it was, was entirely ours.”

(Here are some slides of mine where I go into some other details concerning the origins of Good Omens).

*Quote: from Terry Pratchett A Life With Footnotes by Rob Wilkins, but said by Terry of course.

** All the quotes, facts listed here : see above.

***all other quotes by Neil Gaiman from various interviews and asks I’ll link.

#good omens #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens fun facts #the colour of magic #the colour of pratchett #space voyager magazine

[ichorai]

thread ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; “they’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter. 

“of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “we showed them there’s no sharks in the water. obviously they’re going to jump in.”

words ; 6.6k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, action

warnings / includes ; themes of classism, violence/injury/death/drug misuse, coryo's paranoia, he isn't exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus came late to class. He rushed in, uniform only slightly askew, and hair messier than usual. You moved your bag aside so he could take a seat beside you. With a nod, he slipped into the row and began laying out his books. 

You wondered how Tigris reacted once he got back home. Probably worried sick for her cousin and her friend. Your father, of course, was furious with you once he learned about your tryst with Coriolanus in the Capitol Zoo, but there was little he could do when he was off working in the districts. During dinner with your mother, Lucretius Flickerman, and his wife, the tributes and the games were practically all the three could talk about. Lucky was going to be the first ever host, apparently.

How fun.

To neither of your surprise, Highbottom eyed the two of you with disdain. When you had strode into the hall, he remained silent. Coriolanus’ arrival seemed to tip him right over the edge.

“Both of your little excursions were in violation of about five different academy rules,” he grumbled. “Chiefly amongst them—endangering a Capitol student. Yourselves.”

“There were peacekeepers crawling all over the place,” Coriolanus retorted. 

The dean’s nose twitched angrily. Then, he fixed you with a harsh look over his spectacles, and drawled out your name. “Since you are the academy’s brightest, and your records have been… untarnished until now, I will let you off with a warning.” There was a pause, before the dean continued. “Mr. Snow, I’m moving for the gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor, effective immediately.”

“What?” the two of you exclaimed at once.

“You said we had to get them to perform, not stay away!” Coriolanus just about spat.

“I’ll add insubordination, as well,” Highbottom replied, tone venomous.

Raising your hand and ignoring the dean’s irritated exhale, you haughtily said, “It was me who went into the tribute’s truck. Coriolanus only followed. We didn’t know that we’d end up in a zoo enclosure.”

Arachne tittered with condescending laughter. “Yeah, and then you held hands with them. Made it seem like we’re the same as those animals.”

From your other side, Sejanus was quick to defend the two of you. “Coriolanus and Y/N didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.”

Stiffening, Coryo scowled and said, “I don’t need your help, Sejanus.”

He ignored him and continued on, “That the tributes are human beings, just like us. That’s why nobody wants to watch the games—because people know, deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights!”

“Dean Highbottom,” you called, not bothering to raise your hand this time. “How is it fair that Coriolanus gets disqualified while I’m not? We did what you told us to do! We were just trying to get to know our tributes.”

“Would you like to be disqualified as well? I can surely arrange for that to happen,” he deadpanned. “But poor little Wovey would be left all on her own.”

Nausea coiled within your abdomen. You drew yourself up to your full height. “Well, that would be entirely unnecessary—” 

Before you could finish your sentence, the doors to the lecture theater swung open once more, and Dr. Volumnia Gaul crept in, footsteps completely silent. How she managed that, you weren’t at all sure.

With everyone’s eyes on her, she fixed her stare on the two of you. Her hair was wrangled back into a high up-do, tall and grey on her head. 

“Quite a show you two put on. You’re good players,” she said, voice booming throughout the theater. “The hunger games needs good players. Maybe one day you’ll be gamemakers, like me.”

The thought sent chills up your spine. Coriolanus kept his expression stoic.

“If the games continue at all,” said Highbottom.

Singular blue eye flashing, Dr. Gaul grinned in an unnerving manner. “Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Snow and L/N in that zoo? The people would never stop wanting for more.” She drew closer to the rows of seats, gloved hand trailing over a few of the desks. “I came here to ask the star mentors a question… what are the hunger games for?”

You and Coriolanus exchanged a quick glance.

“They’re to punish the districts for their uprising,” he said, as if it were obvious. “To commemorate the end of the war.”

Volumnia’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, in a similar fashion to a snake.

“And what would you say, Y/N?”

It was hard to maintain eye contact with her, especially because it felt like she could peer into your very soul and dissect you apart from inside out—but you managed. With your father being such an avid supporter of the hunger games, you wondered if your answer would be what she was looking for. “I don’t agree with the games. But I know it’s because—fear is power. Keep the districts afraid for themselves, for their children, and you’ll always have the upper hand.”

She smiled, wide and eerie. “You’re right. Fear is power. But punishment and fear can take many forms. They can come from bomb droppings, the cancelling of food shipments, stage executions. The question is, why games?”

Defensive, Sejanus spoke up, “Shouldn’t we be asking whether or not it’s right in the first place?”

“You have a problem with my games?” she asked, unimpressed.

“Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended! The oldest of them were only eight!” he exclaimed. “The Capitol is supposed to be everyone’s government now. It is supposed to protect all of us. I don’t see how making children fight each other to the death is protecting anyone.”

With a sneer, Dr. Gaul told him, “That sort of sympathy might be interfering with your mentoring assignment, Mr. Plinth.”

Finally, Highbottom said to his colleague, “Perhaps Capitol students are ill-suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the games’ time has passed.”

Yes, you thought. It’s time to let it go.

To your surprise, Coriolanus abruptly stood up from his seat. “Dean Highbottom is wrong,” he asserted. “My classmates, too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something here. We should be viewing those tributes as human beings. You saw those kids at the zoo. They just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch, we should let them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal.”

“Who would watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?” Dr. Gaul asked, as if the notion of caring about district folk was ludicrous.

“Everyone,” replied Coriolanus. “Especially if they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning. People need someone to root for and someone to root against! And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we can even have them place bets.” 

You felt sick as you looked up at Coriolanus with a mildly disturbed expression. If he noticed, he didn’t give you any indication.

“I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena,” he continued. “But if you give her a chance—I would bet the Plinth prize that she could win people’s attention.”

Dr. Gaul was effectively intrigued.

“I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow,” she said. 

Clemensia, strong-headed as ever, stood up and said that she should be working with Coriolanus, as his class partner.

With an amused snicker, Volumnia bowed her head and made her way back to the door. “It’ll be an interesting test,” she ominously said before turning on her heel and exiting, her dark cloak billowing out behind her.

During lunch, you sat down across from Coriolanus in the cafeteria, noticing that he had three sandwiches stacked on his plate, along with half a dozen cookies on another. It was a rare thing, seeing him with so much food. Usually he opted for just starving himself to save some money, despite your urges to get him to eat.

“Hungry?” you asked with an arched brow, but he shook his head.

“It’s for Lucy Gray,” he replied, staring down at the food. Then, he pulled out a red handkerchief and started wrapping the food up. “I’m going back.”

With a soft sigh, you started digging into your own lunch. “Hopefully not inside this time.”

He spared you half a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Are you coming? Everyone else is. I heard Arachne tell Felix she’s going to use food to get her tribute to do tricks for her.”

With a wrinkle of your nose, you glanced over at her several tables down. “Sounds like something she’d say.” You took a bite of your food and chewed thoughtfully.

“They’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter. 

“Of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “We showed them there’s no sharks in the water. Obviously they’re going to jump in.”

He tied the handkerchief together so the sandwiches and cookies would stay put. “They’re all sheep. No original thought whatsoever.”

There it was again, your wind-chime laugh. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, now empty save for a few bread crumbs. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, Coryo. Besides, I’m glad most of the class is going. The tributes must be starving in there,” you told him. “I’ll come and bring some food for Wovey.”

A voice from your right jutted into your conversation, Sejanus’ angry face coming into view as he slammed down his lunch tray in the empty spot beside you. “You guys going to fatten up your tributes so you can finally start taking bets?” he just about snarled.

“Do you think they’ll give those kids a scrap if we don’t give them a reason to do it?” Coriolanus responded defensively, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. “How do you think your tribute will have a chance if he can’t eat?”

“We can’t send them back to their homes,” you told Sejanus in a juxtaposingly calm tone. “The best we can do for them now is help them out here.”

The curly-haired man slumped forward, his shoulder stooping like an old wildflower. “He was my classmate,” he muttered. “Back in two.”

Though you gave Sejanus a sympathetic look, Coryo regarded Sejanus as if he was confused. He wondered why Sejanus even bothered to care this much when he was no longer a part of the districts.

“It’s not your fault that—” Coriolanus began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so blameless I’m choking on it!” he gritted out. Then, he let out a shaky breath, trying to steel himself. “My father bought him for me, you know. At the reaping. Just so he could show me that I could never go back to two.”

A frown marred your features. “He bribed Highbottom?”

“Something like that,” Sejanus told you, using the prongs of his fork to poke and prod at his food. “Morphling costs a pretty penny.”

Silence stretched over the three of you for a few seconds. Coriolanus looked annoyed, but Sejanus didn’t seem to notice. 

“Being in the Capitol is going to kill me,” he sighed.

This made Coryo scowl. “So do something about it.”

Sejanus’ dark eyes flitted over to the bundle of food in Coriolanus’ hands. “You’re quite the rebel.”

Coriolanus retorted, “Oh, yeah. I’m bad news.”

When he said that, he’d expected you to laugh again, but you kept quiet, staring down at your now-unappetizing lunch.

There was a considerably larger crowd around the enclosure that evening. You had a small basket clutched in one hand, consisting of juice boxes (still grape, since you now knew it was a safe option), soft bread rolls, and wrapped leftovers from your dinner with Lucky. You hoped Wovey wasn’t allergic to anything—you’d forgotten to ask in the heat of it all.

Coriolanus still only had the few sandwiches he saved from lunch, but you assured him that you were more than happy to share with Lucy Gray if need be. 

She looked much more haggard tonight, most of her makeup smeared off, her lips chapped and bleeding at the center from what you assumed was anxious biting, and her hair was more unruly. Though her eyes still held the same fire, the same passion, lighting up when she noticed the two of you approaching. She asked if the food was for them with slight surprise—you often forget that they hadn’t much to eat in the districts, anyway—and took what was offered, before handing off a good portion of it to her district partner, Jessup. The larger man declined the food at first, claiming he wasn’t hungry, but eventually caved and took the sandwiches. 

When he turned to walk off, Coriolanus asked about the nasty wound on his neck. It was just behind his ear and oozing with blood and pus. A bat bite on the train, Lucy Gray told the two of you, looking awfully guilty on behalf of her friend. 

Crooning from a little way’s away drew your attention to Arachne and her tribute. She was dangling a cold bottle of water just inches from the tribute’s reach, urging her to beg.

Lucy Gray’s brows cinched. “One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon. Your friend over there sure knows it.”

The two of you scoffed at the same time.

“She is not my friend,” Coriolanus told her. “She is poison with perfect teeth.”

“How such a vile tongue hides behind those pearly whites, I wouldn’t ever know,” you remarked, earning you a snicker from Coriolanus. Finally, you peered around for Wovey, eager to finally get her something to eat. However, curse your damned softening heart, your eyes grew gentle upon seeing her curled up by the very same tree stump, head resting on Bobbin’s shoulder, fast asleep. 

Lucy Gray casted a glimpse over her shoulder to see what you were looking at. 

“Could you give this to her?” you asked, slotting the small basket between the enclosure’s metal bars. “When she wakes up, that is. She must be famished. Feel free to take anything in there, but just… leave some for her.”

The girl nodded, taking the basket from you and handing it over to Jessup, who cradled it as if it were more precious than gold. You watched him carefully—not because you were worried he was going to keep all the food to himself, but because you were curious as to why he hadn’t reached in to take anything for himself yet, even after several minutes passed by. 

Coriolanus leaned forward, wrapping a hand around one of the bars as he lowered his voice. “Are you going to share everything with Jessup?”

Lucy Gray’s expression faltered. “Why? You think I oughta build up my strength to strangle him in the arena? Not exactly my forte.”

“I might have a chance to help you,” he told her, watching her keenly. “To make some suggestions to the gamemakers. I might even be able to get the audience to send you gifts in the arena. Food, and water, to keep you going. You just have to try singing again.”

Firmly, Lucy Gray said, “I don’t sing when I’m told, I sing when I have something to say.”

“And you have nothing to say?” you asked her, head tilting. “The whole world is watching, Lucy Gray. Now’s your chance.”

A myriad of emotions crossed over her face. “It doesn’t matter much now, does it? I’ve seen the arena—there’s nowhere to hide. What’s the point?” Her gaze traveled from you to Coriolanus. “The guards say you get money if you get more people to watch and you say you want to help me. Which is it?”

“Both?” he offered. 

It didn’t satisfy her, but it was enough, for now. 

Then, she grabbed a sandwich from the red handkerchief and took a large bite, a muffled noise of appreciation falling from her lips. 

“Bread’s soft,” she said around a mouthful. “Softer than in twelve.”

Then, she offered a cookie to Coriolanus. He began to protest, but she insisted he take it.

“I saw you staring,” she said. “I always thought there was plenty of food in the Capitol.”

Coriolanus laughed, a coarse and unrefined sound. “One time during the war, I ate a whole jar of paste just to stop the pain in my stomach.” 

A match of pity struck within the confines of your chest, but you remained quiet. Coriolanus told you stories of his times during the war often—usually after the two of you laid together, sweaty and naked, bearing your souls to one another. Pillow talk made him quite emotional, you found.

“And how was it?” Lucy Gray queried, eyes round.

Coriolanus took a bite of the cookie, humming in though. Then, he shrugged. “Pasty,” he said.

Lucy Gray laughed. She looked back to you, appreciative. “Thank you, for the food. I’m sure the little one’s going to be happy.” Your eyes flickered back to Wovey. She stirred a bit on Bobbin’s shoulder, but remained asleep. “She’s so sweet. So young. Something about her reminds me of my cousin, Maude Ivory. I can’t stand to think of them without me like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Coriolanus whispered.

You nodded in agreement. “They’re waiting for you, I’m sure. You’ll see them again.”

Lucy Gray smiled sadly. “I won’t hold you to that.” Then, after she took another bite, she blew out a gentle sigh. “You two seem like… genuine folk. It sure would’ve been nice to meet you under different circumstances.”

Coriolanus leaned his head against the enclosure’s bars. “One of your shows, maybe.”

Somehow, her smile grew impossibly wider, but her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Yeah. Yeah, I would’ve liked that.” With a light sniffle, she asked the two of you, “You two keen on dancing?”

You thought back to all the dance lessons you were forced to take as a young child. It was never your strong suit. “Not really, no. Coriolanus is much better than I am.” 

“Not your fancy Capitol dancing,” she told you, waving a hand in the air. “Dancing like you’re free. Dancing with no rules. Just the music, to guide you.”

Both you and Coriolanus exchanged glances. “Can’t say I’ve tried,” you replied. “But it sounds fun.”

Lucy Gray nodded, showing more enthusiasm than you’d ever seen in her before. “You’d have the time of your life. If you ever visit… I’d love for you to come. Both of you—we’d have a drink. Share a dance or two. We’d have all the time in the world. People always say our music shows are the best places for romantic dates. It’d be perfect for you two.”

It was a pleasant fantasy to entertain. But that’s all it was—a fantasy. When you looked at Coriolanus, his expression was simultaneously strained and distant, as if he were far away, thinking of other things. You reached out to place your hand on his shoulder.

But before you could, screams erupted from around the enclosure, followed closely by shattering glass. You whipped your head away from Lucy Gray, seeing Arachne’s tribute jabbing the broken glass bottle straight into her jugular. Coriolanus yelled something—you weren’t entirely sure what, but he jumped up to grab Arachne, applying pressure to the wound.

It wasn’t enough. 

Blood, dark and viscous and filling the air with the smell of copper, began to pool around her neck, down her shoulders, filling the crevices of her collarbones. She was blubbering something, gargling through blood, but you couldn’t quite hear with the loud static buzzing in your ears. 

You glanced to the side, catching sight of peacekeepers lining up their guns to shoot. You rushed forward to get to Coriolanus, yanking him down just as several shots rang out. He was whimpering, telling Arachne to hold on for him, but when you frantically reached down to feel for her pale wrist’s pulse—it wasn’t there.

Arachne was dead. 

You clambered off of Coriolanus, away from the dead girl, backing away. You only barely registered Sejanus calling out your name in concern, but you didn’t pay him any mind. Instead, you turned your eyes to the tributes, all ducking and cowering behind trees and tires. To your relief, Wovey was now awake, eyes wide as she crouched behind the tree stump with Bobbin.

The relief was short-lived, however, because peacekeepers began urging everybody away from the enclosure. You reached out for Coriolanus, taking his arm. He was shaking, eyes as large as saucers and visibly distraught. 

The two of you walked to his estate in tense silence.

Once there, Grandma’am and Tigris fawned over the two of you, though in far different ways. Grandma’am dove into a lecture about rebels and how lucky the two of you were that your tributes hadn’t done the very same. Tigris wrapped a warm shawl over you and a patched blanket over her cousin, telling Grandma’am that Lucy Gray and Wovey weren’t rebels, just innocent girls. 

“Trust me, that one hasn’t been a girl in a long time,” Grandma’am bitterly retorted. “Outside this Capitol, they’re savages, however they may smile. She will use you, Coriolanus. You must use her or you’ll end up dead in the trees, like your father.”

Coriolanus stiffened. 

An hour later, he tugged you into his room and kissed you hard and desperate, as if he wanted to distract himself from his own thoughts. You were the one to pull away, even if everything inside you was screaming to stay. You almost caved, almost, when his head dipped forward in an attempt to capture your lips again, but you placed the tips of your fingers over his mouth with a soft, sympathetic smile. You hugged him tight until he stopped trembling, and reluctantly drew yourself away from him. After embracing Tigris goodnight, you walked home alone with your thoughts, wondering if the games were going to continue in lieu of the evening’s events.

There was an assembly held at the academy for Arachne’s death, followed promptly by a proper funeral. Though, it didn’t quite feel proper with all the cameras and reporters hovering around. You wondered if people were expecting to see you cry. You were incredibly shaken, sure, but were you sad?

It’d be a lie if you said yes.

They made sure to zoom in on you and Coriolanus when you kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand just before he was appointed to go on stage and sing the national anthem. Why he was the one to do so, the two of you had no idea. It’s not like Arachne was friends with him, despite what the reporters wanted to think. It was a ridiculous waste of breath, he thought, singing for a girl he barely knew.

After Coriolanus’ performance, President Ravinstill gave a rather monotonous speech about courage and bravery. How Arachne was going to be sorely missed. Right—of course she was.

And the very next day, life moved on. As if Arachne’s death had never happened.

Soon after, they had all the mentors and tributes gathered into one of the academy halls— with the tributes shackled to tables, of course. It wasn’t like there was anywhere for them to run. You’d seen all the peacekeepers lining the hallways outside.

“In spite of yesterday’s tragic events,” Highbottom said, not a shred of sincerity to be found in his tone, “our President has decided that the games must go on. Show everyone that the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror. To which end Dr. Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a special, televised presentation of each tribute to our audience so they could… get to know them.”

A glorified show-and-tell, you dryly thought. How wonderful.

You and Coriolanus looked at each other for a brief moment—he’d ask Lucy Gray to sing again, you were certain. Then, you turned back forward, where Wovey was fiddling with her thumbs, sniffling a few times.

“You’ll have an hour to discuss strategy,” said the dean, before whisking himself off to the shadows of the room to down another vial of morphling.

You sat down in front of your tribute, trying your best to offer her a warm smile.

“Did you like the food I brought? Was it okay?” you whispered, making sure to lower your voice.

A nod, a scuffle of feet. Her bottom lip trembled.

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you moved on to the pressing matter at hand. “Okay, Wovey. I need… I need to know what you’re good at. Are you a fast runner?” 

She thought for a moment, but then shook her head.

“I know you can climb?”

She let out a shaky sigh. “I used to climb in my mama’s factory all the time. Trees, too.”

“Good. That’s good,” you murmured, pulling out a notepad so you could jot some things down. “Are you good at hiding? Staying still?”

“I think so,” she said, looking awfully uncomfortable. “Will I go back home if I win?”

A sharp pang hit you square in the chest. You tore your gaze away from your notes on the paper to look at her. 

“Yes,” you hesitantly replied. “They’ll take you home.”

This seemed to satisfy her for the time being. Gave her hope that you perhaps shouldn’t have instilled.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “So—for your televised presentation. We need to win the audience over so they send in donations—I’d be able to send you things. What do you want to do?”

After quite a bit of back and forth, you managed to get Wovey to agree to talk about her family on stage. How much she missed them. It wasn’t much, but perhaps the youngest tribute sympathy card would push the odds in your favor.

Halfway through the hour, however, Coriolanus and Clemensia were called away by Highbottom—most likely to discuss the proposal Coryo had written up once you left the estate. You made a mental note to ask him how it goes once you saw him again. You felt bad, seeing Lucy Gray sitting all alone, bound hands lightly rapping against the table’s wood.

By the stroke of four in the afternoon, they gathered all the mentors and tributes in front of the arena. Coriolanus came bounding up to the group just seconds away from the gates opening, appearing breathless and mildly frazzled. 

“You okay? Where’s Clemmie?” you asked, resting a hand on his elbow, brows kinking with confusion.

“She’s… not going to make it.” He winced, appearing distinctly torn. “I’ll tell you later.”

There was a brief silence where you scrutinized him, eyes wide. Something bad happened when he was with Dr. Gaul, and you weren’t too keen on finding out.

You walked alongside Coriolanus into the arena, with your two tributes in front of you. Lucy Gray was saying something comforting to Wovey in that sweet voice of hers, and for that you were grateful. The last thing you needed was Wovey to break down in an anxious mess. 

The arena itself was spacious but incredibly rundown, crumbling under the weight of its neglected upkeep. The glass roof was stained and dusty, rusty slants creaking as they parted to filter sunlight into the dome.

“Welcome to the arena of the 10th annual hunger games,” a distorted voice echoed through the arena’s shoddy speaker system. “Tributes, mentors, you have fifteen minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy.”

With one final squeeze on Coriolanus’ shoulder, you parted ways with him, stepping beside Wovey to urge her into a lap around the arena. Staggered rows of dusty seats lined the edges high above the ground—Wovey was a good climber, wasn’t she? 

You tried your best to give her advice. “Hiding in the seats is your best option. Climbing over the rows whenever someone comes to attack you should buy you time. You’re small, too—I think you’d be able to crawl beneath the seats to get away. As for weapons… maybe grab something small from the center. A knife or a dagger. But only if you have time, and only if you know you can make it. If not, just make a break for the seats, as fast as you can. Got that, sweetheart?”

Wovey stayed silent. But she nodded. Nodded and nodded until you worried her head was going to pop right off. 

You bent down at the waist slightly so that you were eye-level with her. “I’ll be watching you the whole time. I’m there if you need m—”

Sudden explosions rang out about the arena. Plumes of dust flew everywhere, blinding you almost instantaneously. With your eyes squeezed shut, you felt the ground shake and split and rumble until another closer explosion flung you a good few feet off the ground. You landed on your side with a strangled scream, though the pain only registered a few seconds later. Cracking your aching eyes open and squinting through the haze of dust, you caught sight of shattered glass thundering around you like crystalized rain, nicking your skin with sharp pin pricks. 

Your right side buzzed with warmth. Something damp. You dazedly looked down.

Oh.

It seemed you’d landed right on a broken metal pipe, sticking right out of your abdomen. Blood was pooling down your academy uniform, soaking the fabric a far more sinister shade of red. You choked out something akin to a dry sob, before screaming out for help. You heard dozens of similar cries echo back to you.

With a grunt, you pushed yourself up, 

“CORYO?!” you screamed as loud as you could. Faintly, you could hear his strained voice echo your name back—somewhere across the arena, you’d wager. 

The pain was starting to grow worse. Searing, almost, as if you were being laid over an open fire. You staggered through the rubble, pressing a hand to your side in a terrible attempt to staunch the bleeding, careful not to jostle the pipe. It was probably the only thing keeping you from bleeding out right then and there.

As you kept moving, you caught sight of a large, gaping hole at the opposite end of the arena. There were tributes running out. Peacekeepers shooting them. The explosions had been so loud that your ears were ringing with terrible white noise—you couldn’t even hear the sound of the rifles blasting.

You glanced around wildly. 

You spotted the small little girl near the edge of the arena. Running with Dill, you realized, mind still lagging a second too late from shock. Another explosion rattled through the arena—this time, crumbling the roof away completely.

With a mangled noise, you began limping as quickly as you could.

Another call of your name, echoing and rattling about your skull, and Coriolanus materialized right beside you out of seemingly nowhere. There were two of him, you realized. He appeared fuzzy. 

You reached out for him, but he suddenly pulled you forward, yelling something. Something you couldn’t hear. A flash of rainbow by his left, and you saw Lucy Gray just barely escape being crushed by a large stone support column. 

More crumbling ceiling. Coriolanus’ hands were cold when he urgently shoved you forward. So hard that you went tumbling down, screaming with the sudden painful jolts the metal pipe sent shooting up your spine. A second later, you blearily looked around for Coriolanus—realizing that he’d pushed you into the clear when you found him pinned down under heavy foundational slants—and they’d caught on fire. 

Numb panic shot through your mind. You barely registered your own voice croaking out his name. You tried to crawl towards him, but he only seemed to get farther away. 

The last thing you saw before your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you went careening backwards was the rainbow dress, and wild, dark hair. 

The hospital bed was far from comfortable, but you’d been so tired you were knocked out for half of the day. Though, Tigris told you that you did sort of wake up at some point in the night, mumbling Coriolanus’ name with half-cracked eyes, before falling right back asleep.

He’d startled awake before you—rushing to your bed (right beside his) and taking your limp hand in his cold, clammy one. Brushed the hair away from your forehead and muttered apologies and please don’t die like they were a mantra.

When you finally stirred, you nearly burst into tears upon seeing Coriolanus.

“I thought you died,” you dry-sobbed. Your side ached considerably with the effort. “I thought I was going to die.”

He drew you into a loose hug, careful to avoid your bandaged midriff. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m here. I love you—I’m not going anywhere, okay? Lucy Gray saved you. Saved us.”

“She did?” you croaked, voice soft. Yes, you sort of remembered. It was all a blur.

“She caught you before you could crack your head open on the ground,” said another voice. You turned your stiff neck to see Sejanus at the foot of the other side of your bed, next to Tigris, who was running her hand up and down your arm in a comforting manner.

You blew out a shaky sigh. Your head pulsed, and you suddenly felt nauseous. “What… what happened?”

They took turns explaining. Rebel bombing. The dead tributes. The president’s son, Felix, in critical condition. Sejanus’ tribute missing. How the games were still commencing regardless. The pipe that had been lodged in your abdomen missing any vital organs. How you were lucky to be alive.

“Wovey?” you whispered. “Is she okay?”

Coriolanus smoothed a hand over your head. “She’s okay. Not one of the ones that died.”

“Lucy Gray?” you whispered. 

“Alive. She could have run. She stayed back to help you and me,” he said as his hand traveled down to gently cup your face. There were dark circles under his eyes. “I owe her now. She saved the love of my life.”

“Oh, Coryo—are you okay? Are you hurt?” Your gaze roamed all over his form, clad in an identical hospital gown. 

“A few burns and bruises. Nothing compared to you.” 

You drew in a staggered breath. Every muscle and tendon in your body screamed with even the slightest movements. 

Tigris squeezed your hand. “We were so worried for you. Coriolanus couldn’t sleep all night. Your mother came by earlier but she had to leave—a spill in the lab, or something. And your father sends his love from district two. Your mother said he was furious. Military is doubling down.”

“Typical,” you whispered, supplying the three with half a weary smile, glad that they were there for you. “I can’t believe they’re going on with the games tomorrow. This is absurd.”

“They don’t want to seem weak,” Sejanus bitterly replied. “But you woke up just in time. The televised presentations are starting soon.”

Nearly an hour later, Sejanus switched on the television set hanging in front of the beds. Tribute after tribute went by, most of them appearing gaunt and exhausted. True to what the two of you had discussed, Wovey got on stage and talked about her family back in district eight, despite looking rather shaken. The audience crooned and sighed with pity. Donations were sparse, but still more than you had expected, to your bittersweet relief. You watched from the hospital bed, curled up with Tigris at the head of it, your head on her shoulder, whilst Sejanus and Coriolanus were standing far closer to the curved screen. 

Lucy Gray was the last to go on. She had a guitar with her. And she sang a beautiful song—one about a boy back from home, she said. The audience cheered and sniffled. Even the nurses stopped their bustling to watch, some of them discreetly wiping away tears.

Once visiting hours were over and Tigris and Sejanus were shooed out of the hospital, Coriolanus sat beside you and slung an arm over your shoulder. He slotted his fingers beneath your chin and kissed you deeply. It was a slow embrace, with not a hint of sexual intentions—he just wanted to hold you. Remind himself that you were still alive, still here, still his.

Your nose nudged his when he laid his forehead over yours. The two of you breathed in each other’s comforting presence. Just the two of you. It reminded you of when times were so… uncomplicated. Before all the mentoring came along, the only things you had to worry about were grades and Coriolanus’ refusals to eat properly.

Then, he told you about Clemensia. How she was probably somewhere in this very building. How she screamed when she was bitten by the snake muttation. Your mind raced with questions, but you yawned instead and leaned against his chest. 

“I love you, too, Coryo,” you whispered into his hospital gown, realizing you hadn’t said it back earlier. 

A few minutes later, you were back asleep. Coriolanus was careful not to wake you when he laid you back down. Tucked the blanket up to your chin. He kissed your hairline once more, regarding you with a fond expression, before straightening, trying his best to ignore the aches blossoming over his back and legs.

And then he left the ward, assuring the doctors that he was fine and he could be discharged. They reluctantly agreed after a brief check-up, and had him sign off for himself. Once he was out, he immediately set off for the arena, trying to search for something, anything to keep his tribute alive.

Tunnels. The ground had collapsed into them, giving Lucy Gray a perfect place to run and hide. He went back home, making sure Grandma’am and Tigris were asleep—before pouring a copious amount of powdered rat poison into his late mother’s compact. 

It was cheating. But you and Sejanus had both said it before—he was a rebel by nature. Bad news.

He visited the zoo enclosure and gave it to her then, informing her of the tunnels. Wiped her tears with a handkerchief, then told her he owed her his life and more. That you were okay, and it was all thanks to her. Lucy Gray looked overwhelmed for a moment. She did what any decent person would, she thought. He promised her that she’d get out. Return home to the Covey. False hope whispered unrealistic dreams into her ears and she let herself listen. 

“We all do things we’re not proud of to survive,” he whispered when Lucy Gray attempted to protest, not wanting to poison anyone. He pushed the compact firmly into her hands. “Do it for your family.”

Conflict warred across her features. She nodded once, then twice. 

Coriolanus' expression set with determination. “We are going to win this, Lucy Gray. We’re going to win this together. I’m going to get you home.”

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow x you #hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus snow drabbles #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #young!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst

[eternalsdiary]

#SOMETHING UNEXPECTED

pairing: Dina x Ellie x Reader

tags: smut, fingering, MY LOVES

Life seemed average, a repeated cycle you could never seem to get out of. Bland, overused and average.

“YN, you need to get out more! All you do is work and sleep!” Jesse complains. But how could you “get out more” if the whole world was under attack by human beings infected by fungus?

“Jesse, m’not going out tonight. I gotta patrol early tomorrow, I don’t have time f’drinking.” You scoff, closing the book you were reading and placing it in the nearby nightstand. “You’re so boring, you never do anything fun.” He rolls his eyes and exits the room.

You never enjoyed parties anyways. You always felt like an outcast to this whole group of people, you were surprised they even let you stay this damn long. You had showed up out of no where and yet they let you in after a check for infection.

The day continued like usual. Eat, Work, Sleep, Repeat, and obviously the necessities. You groan as you awake, your hair bed head a lot messier than usual. You rub your temples as you exit the hard bed that was seemingly put together from sheets and scattered pillows found around.

You somehow found yourself assigned to early patrol with Ellie and Dina. It wasn’t that you disliked them, it was that you liked them a little too much. Somehow, they distracted you from your daily routine, always pulling you somewhere you didn’t need to be, forcing you to explore things you’d never explored. But today it seemed there was a lot of tension in the area. The snow not making it any better as the freezing air made the freeze of the silence grow thicker.

Silence engulfed the whole ride, until they approached an abandoned warehouse that had a harsh smell of weed. Inside a whole farm of it, just growing like nothing. “Hey hey, I haven’t seen this shit in forever.” Ellie says picking up a jar. “Does weed expire?” She asks turning to Dina, having finally spoken a word to each other. “I guess we’ll have to find out?”

A loud bang was heard, causing you to flinch as you turned to see that the snow had trapped all three of you inside the weed smelling warehouse. “God, I did not want this.” You roll your eyes, removing the gloves you wore. “Fuck…!” You kick something nearby. “Whoa there, it’s not that big of a deal, we can just stay here until it dies down. Then we can try moving the snow.” Ellie suggests, removing her coat and settling in a nearby couch.

You watch as Dina does the same, grabbing a lighter that seemingly still worked to light the joint they’d found in the jar. “This still hits.” Dina says with a small smile, passing the joint over to Ellie. You sigh, removing your jacket and looking around to search for another exit. “Hey, why are you so quick to leave? Live a little and come smoke this with us.” Ellie says, looking at you with her low eyes as the weed seemed to already be taking effect.

“I’m good, I don’t smoke. I didn’t smoke before either.” You roll your eyes, looking around once more, seeing that there were no other ways out. “Just come and sit down. It’s like you have a stick up your ass or somethin’.” Dina says, tilting her head to look at you. You groan, stomping over to them both and settling on the couch. “Here, I think ya need it.” Ellie giggles, egging Dina to do the same.

“I said I’m good.” Dina takes the joint, “Just one time, it won’t kill ya?” She takes a drag from the joint, blowing it into your face, causing you to retract. “Fine.” You finally give in, inhaling the smoke. You cough quickly, the biting sensation in the back of your throat lingering. “Okay what the hell?” You ask, hunching over to cough. “It’s fine, happens when it’s your first time. Try again.” Ellie helps you sit up, guiding the joint to your lips.

“When you inhale, inhale it slowly. So, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” Dina says softly, placing her hand on your thigh unconsciously. You flinch slightly, inhaling the smoke, letting it drape into your lungs slowly. Blowing the smoke into the air, you feel yourself becoming a lot more relaxed. “That was better yeah?” Ellie asks, watching you as she inhaled the joint and blows the smoke into your face.

“I guess so.” You say quietly, everyone feeling the effects of the weed. It hits you harder, your head spinning softly, your eyes getting heavier, and the stir between your legs becoming a lot more prominent. “Should we have another Dina? I’m not sure she can handle two.” Ellie says, looking at your slouched appearance.

You shake your head. “I’m good, I think.” You chuckle. Ellie nods lighting another, placing it between her thin yet plump lips. You watch her, your eyes entranced by the way her lips wrap around the joint. Dina slides her hand further up your leg, catching your attention. You turn to her, a smirk dawning her lips as she tilts her head to get a better look at you.

Ellie hands the joint over once more, this time leaning over you a bit more than usual. The feeling of her skin warming you up a lot more then you already were, her perky and uncovered breasts swaying in your face. You blush softly, your face tinted slightly. The thoughts that run through your head becoming unholy, but you blame it on the weed. Dina takes a drag, inhaling slowly. Suddenly she leans into you, your lips parting as she connects her lips to yours and exhales the smoke back into your lungs.

It was random, causing you to flinch softly. “Did ya like that? Or should I stop?” She slides her hand up your thigh further, her thumb gliding over your clothed cunt softly. Ellie watches, her eyes lingering over your figure. You look at Dina, the sinful thoughts running through your head starting to take over. “I-I don’t do this. I’ve never-“ Ellie silences you, putting the bud of the joint into the couch to let it burn out.

“We got you.”

Like usual, with Ellie and Dina you were doing something you didn’t usually do. Your legs spread open as Dina licked up the slit of your wet and dripping cunt. Ellie grips her hair, guiding her to eat you out just right. Your hands gripping the side of the couch as you whine and groan Dina’s name out into existence. Her arms wrapped around your thighs to keep your legs open as you shake, throwing your head back as she hits the spot that makes you tingle just right.

“Fuhh-ck!” Your head falls back off the couch, Dina’s fingers mingling with the hardened buds underneath your shirt. “Feel good pretty?” Ellie asks softly, looking down at you. You nod, droll pooling at your lips. Dina slides her finger into your core, your back arching into her as you fuck yourself with her fingers. “Fuc- Dina! Oh good-“ You grip the couch harder, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

She eats you like it was her last meal, her eyes never leaving yours as she penetrates you with another finger. Ellie continues to guide her, hitting all the spots inside you just right. Her hands come down to your chest, running her thumb over the nipple as if she was admiring the way they bounced as you used Dina. “Yesyes.. right there!”

You grind against her face, feeling yourself become a lot needier. The high you felt earlier could never compare to this one. Her hands spreading you open just right, your eyes shut tightly. “Look at me hun.” She says softly, diving back into you as you open your eyes to look down at her. Ellie watches in awe at the way you open up to Dina’s fingers. “Oh shi- I’m gonna cum Din-“ Ellie suddenly moves Dina’s hand away.

You catch your breath, confused as to why she was depriving you. “I wanna turn too.” Dina rolls her eyes. “You could’ve at least let her cum first. I’m sure she can handle two orgasms.” You watch as they talk about you like you're not even there. “Okay then, think you can handle two pretty?” Your eyes pan to Ellie, nodding slowly as you lean back once more. “Good girl, see I told ya.” Dina says, sliding her digits back inside of you.

She decides not to start slow this time, her fingers using you quickly. “I wanna taste you c’mon.” You feel the high you were on coming back, your hands gripping her hair softly. Your eyes don’t leave her as Ellie leans back, watching the both of you as she waits patiently for her turn with you.

“C’mon hun, wanna taste your cum.” Dina speaks sinfully, causing you to fall over the edge. “Oh- cumming! Please!” You release on her fingers, back arching over the edge of the couch. Your legs shake as you orgasm like you never have before. She sucks softly on your sensitive bud, you whine softly. “Gotta take one more for Ellie, she wants a taste too hun.” Dina slaps your cunt softly.

You nod, spreading your legs once more. The adrenaline running through your body causing you to work against how sensitive you were. “Go in then you needy fuck, go get your fill of her before she changes her mind.” Dina slaps Ellie’s arm softly, wiping her face of your essence. Ellie leans in, kissing your stomach, kissing the inside of your thigh, then kissing your fold softly. “I can’t wait anymore.”

She suddenly licks, causing you to close your legs. “Ah Ah C’mon now. You keep ‘em open f’me do the same for El.” Dina spread your legs back open, leaning against Ellie. You whine, feeling sensitive as Ellie continues with her endeavor. She spreads your folds, sliding her finger inside to replace Dina’s. The length of her finger hitting a spot inside you that Dina didn’t hit before.

“Ah, wait! You- god!” You try to close your legs once more, but Dina slaps your inner thigh, holding them open. “Hey, stop it. You said you could take it so take it like a big girl.” Dina giggles, rubbing your inner thigh softly. You chant Ellie’s name, her fingers curling slighting inside you. You grip her hair, riding her face as if she were a dildo and you were a pornstar.

Dina feels her arousal pooling in her pants, sliding her hand down into her jeans as she touches herself at the sight of you. Your bottom lip I’m between your teeth as you groan, Ellie’s hair gripped in between your fingers. She enjoys the sight of it all. Ellie kissing your stomach again as she adds another finger, speeding up just enough to make you scream. “I’m- oh shit! Ellie please…!” You hold onto her wrist to keep her from moving away, riding her fingers and clenching around them.

“Gonna cum pretty, I wanna taste you as bad. S’not fair Dina got to try it first.” You whine, unable to speak. Dina throws her head back as she feels herself about to release around her own fingers. “Gonna cum together yeah? Cum with me YN.” She says breathlessly as she rides her own fingers. Ellie snickers, “ya just couldn’t wait could ya?” Diving back down to devour the essence about to release from you.

Your head spinning softly, your back arching, you ride her fingers until suddenly. You burst, cumming and squeezing around her fingers, your head falling back and your legs shaking like never before. “E-El oh Fuck! Yesyesyes!” You spread your legs more as she licks it all up, not leaving one drop of you behind. “Taste so good pretty.” She says quietly into your cunt.

Dina cums as well, her legs shaking as she slows down, circling her bud slowly. “Oh yes..” she leans back, pulling her hand out of her jeans. “Wanna taste?” She asks, leaning forward and placing her fingers into your mouth, allowing you to suck them clean. Your eyes low, the high still rippling through you.

“Let’s do this again sometime.”

I want them both so bad...

#ellie x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie smut #tlou ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #dina x reader #dina tlou #ellie x dina #dina woodward #dina the last of us #tlou smut #tlou part 2 #tlou2 #tlou #tlou fanfiction

[babybluebex]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: series masterlist | after you receive a series of anonymous love letters, eddie has a confession to make that might make or break your whole friendship. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson (stranger things, 2022) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut (minors dni, fingering f!receiving, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink), a little possessiveness if you squint, cute fluffy eddie head over heels for you, everyone in this is 18+ and if you aren't, you shouldn't be reading it!𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i wrote this in (mostly) one sitting because the idea came to me and i couldn’t let it go, and it's absurdly long so.... here’s some sweet eddie smut!

You opened your locker, and watched as it fell out, just like every day. Every day for the past month, someone had been sneaking notes through the vent of your locker door, and you had no idea who was doing it. You thought it would be easy to figure out, the messy, nearly-illegible, handwriting indicative of a boy, but not even asking the Hellfire Club for opinions helped bring an answer. All that had succeeded in was Dustin poking fun at you for getting anonymous love letters, and you had sighed with exhaustion and snatched the first note back. 

You picked up the newest note from next to your shoe, unfolding it to read the newest sentiment. The handwriting was a little messier than usual, maybe rushed or something, and it read the same as every other note: that you were beautiful and smart, that any man who calls himself your boyfriend is lucky, then goes on to ask “Do you still not know who I am? I thought it was obvious, princess. Oh well. Maybe one day you’ll figure it out, and then I can be yours.” Not a single note was signed with a name or anything identifiable, and it was driving you crazy trying to figure it out. 

Before you could properly read the new note, it was being pulled out of your hand, and you whipped your head around to see Eddie, smiling like a goofball and examining the note. “Damn,” he chuckled. “Whoever this is has got it bad for you.” 

“Eddie,” you whined. “Gimme that back, it’s private.”

“What is it?” Eddie asked, examining the note. “Wait… Is this that letter you showed us, like, forever ago?”

“No,” you told him. “It’s like… I’ve been getting them every day since then.”

“Every day?” Eddie repeated, pulling a confused face, a grimace with knitted eyebrows.. “I thought it was just the one?”

“C’mon, seriously, give it back,” you groaned, but Eddie used his height against you, lifting the note above his head and craning his head to read it.

“A month of this?” Eddie asked. “‘I think about you every day, imagining what it would be like to be your man’— does this kinda shit work on you?”

“Eddie, c’mon,” you said, and you grabbed at the note. Eddie was quicker than you, though, turning to defend himself and the love letter. 

“Who is it?” He asked. “Do you know?” 

You sighed, seeing no way out of this. Eddie had been at the helm of teasing when you had first brought the issue to the Hellfire Club, nothing really harmful but it still made your stomach curdle. He seemed more invested in the mystery than even you were, even if he didn’t remember it until now.

“I have no idea,” you admitted. “I’ve been trying to figure it out, but nobody recognizes the handwriting. Anyway, who would like me this much to write weird anonymous love letters?”

Eddie handed the crinkled note back to you, and you almost missed the way his face fell. “You think they’re weird?” he asked, and you shrugged as you folded the letter back up. 

“It’s certainly not normal,” you said. “Why can’t this guy just tell me that he likes me? He can drop this pining bullshit he’s doing.” 

“Maybe he’s scared to tell you,” Eddie offered. He leaned up against the locker next to you, his fluffy curls flattening against the metal, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe he’s so afraid you’ll say no that he can’t even bear to tell you in person.” 

“Well, I can’t say yes if I don’t know who he is,” you sighed. 

“That’s true,” Eddie offered. “But seriously, does that mushy shit work on you?” 

You floundered for an answer, not wanting to give Eddie the satisfaction of being right, but your hesitation was answer enough. 

“It does!” Eddie laughed. “Oh, that’s amazing, you’re a little romantic.”

“I mean, maybe!” you said with a heavy shrug. “It’s just nice to have someone be, like, head over heels for me, y’know? Knowing that I’m appreciated like this…” 

Eddie sighed heavily through his nose, and he said, “Give me that note, I’ll read it to you.”

“Fuck off,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. 

“No, really,” Eddie said. His chocolatey eyes widened with earnestness, and he added, “If you want someone to appreciate you, I’ll do it.” 

“I already know you appreciate me,” you said. “You’re like my brother, Ed. Anyway, you don’t wanna appreciate me like this.”

“Why not?” Eddie asked, and he took the note from your hand once more. “Is it dirty? Is he sending you dirty letters?” 

“Not always,” you told him. “I haven’t properly read this one yet; someone took it from me before I could.” 

Eddie opened the note and cleared his throat, and he read it off to you. “‘Princess’,” he snickered. “Strong start. He calls you princess?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you groaned and tried to snatch the note away, but Eddie held you at arm’s length, keeping you away. 

“‘Princess, I thought about you all day’,” Eddie read. “‘It doesn’t help that you look so cute today. You should wear that lipstick more often, it makes your eyes look nice. Sometimes I think about what kissing your perfect lips would be like, having your lipstick stain my mouth. It’s enough to drive a man crazy. Is that something you would like? Do you like to be kissed, princess? When we meet, that’s the very first thing I’ll do, is kiss you. I think about you everyday, imagining what it would be like to be your man.’” Eddie paused to smile at the line that he had picked out before, and he continued. “I’d like you to be my girl, in any way I can have you. I love you.’”

“It does not say that,” you huffed. “He did not tell me he loves me.” 

“Okay, you’re right, that’s not written,” Eddie admitted, and you rolled your eyes. “But it might as well be! This guy's in love with you! That’s some sappy shit, babe, he’s got it bad.”

Before you could retort, the bell sounded, and you groaned as you finally retrieved the note from Eddie’s hand. “I’ll see you this afternoon,” you told him, shoving the note in your pocket. “Forget you ever read that.”

“Forgotten,” Eddie said with a nod. “I’ll see you at Hellfire, princess.” 

“Don’t call me that!” you shouted after him as he left down the hallway, and you sighed and brushed your fingers against your pocket. The note was sweet, but the problem came with Eddie. Now that he had narrated the letter, you couldn’t help but imagine only his voice as you read it back. The image of Eddie slaving over writing the perfect love note stuck in your head, and you physically shook your head to get rid of the thought. 

It wasn’t Eddie. There was no way it could be. You knew what Eddie’s handwriting looked like and it wasn’t what was on the sheet of paper. Anyway, you knew Eddie well, and he wasn’t shy like that. If he liked you enough to send love letters, he would just tell you as much. Deep in your chest, you sorta hoped it was Eddie writing you the letters. Even if it wasn’t sincere and was a prank (which was uncharacteristic for Eddie, but not entirely out of the realm of possibility), the idea that Eddie even noticed your lipstick or had the inkling of a desire to kiss you made your stomach turn flips. It was about time to face the music: you liked him.

You closed your locker with a sigh, and you made your way to class, the letter burning a hole in your pocket. 

Hellfire was successful that afternoon. Not exactly successful for the campaign— by all accounts, half of your group dying from a single hit by Vecna and the last member standing failing to kill him was very unsuccessful— but you always liked hanging out with the guys from Hellfire and always considered it a win. As the only girl, it was sometimes difficult to only hang out with guys, but everyone, even the freshmen, treated you nicely. Dustin looked at you like a sister, and you frequently drove him home after meetings.

“Can we get food on the way home?” Dustin asked as he shoved his binder into his backpack, and you shrugged. 

“Why not?” you asked. “What’re you thinking?” 

“I’m not sure,” Dustin replied. “You can choose.”

“How kind,” you smiled. “How about—”

“Hey, princess,” Eddie began from his place on his Dungeon Master throne. You turned to him, and he beckoned you over with a swipe of his fingers: “I wanna talk to you.” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes, and you shouldered your backpack as you turned back to Dustin. “Go to the car,” you told him and tossed him your car keys. “Get the heat going, alright?” 

Dustin did as you told him, and you tilted your head curiously at Eddie. He had his sleeves rolled up, exposing the tattoos on his lower arms, his hair all frizzy but still looking nice, and he had his plump pink lips pursed. “What’s up?” you asked. 

“I was thinking about your little letter situation,” Eddie began. “The anonymous author and all.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. “Eddie, really, leave it alone, it’s truly not that big a deal.”

“Yeah, but if some creep is trying to put the moves on you, the least he can do is do it in person,” Eddie sighed. “You deserve better than just some creepy love letters shoved in your locker.” 

“Do I?” you laughed, and Eddie’s dark eyes flashed. 

“Of course you do,” Eddie said. “You’re the best girl at Hawkins.”

“Chrissy Cunningham might disagree,” you mumbled under your breath, and Eddie sighed as he rolled his eyes. 

“Well, I think you’re the best girl at Hawkins, and that’s what matters,” he said. “Listen to me: I really care about you, and I hate that these letters are making you so… Uncomfortable.”

“They’re not making me uncomfortable,” you said. “I like them. I’m just annoyed that I don’t know who it is.” 

Eddie slowly stood from his throne, and he moved towards you carefully, like he was afraid that he was going to startle you. “You are beautiful,” he told you. “And you’re funny. And that guy is right, you’re enough to drive a man crazy. And you have, princess, you’ve made me completely mad.” 

You huffed out a wary laugh. “Eddie, what the fuck?” you chuckled, but you were stunned silent when he reached forward and took your hand. 

Eddie took a deep breath, his chest heaving with it, and he said, “I wrote those letters. All of them. Every single one.”

Your heart dropped, and you stepped away from Eddie. “No you didn’t,” you said. “If you liked me, you would’ve just told me.”

“And I wanted to,” Eddie said. “But I was shy and scared. I was terrified that you would reject me, so I… I found a way you couldn’t reject me.” 

Your mouth felt dry, and you felt warm under Eddie’s gaze. “Eddie,” you uttered. “Y-You didn’t really… You’re not…” 

“I can prove it,” Eddie said quickly. He went back to his throne and grabbed his metal lunchbox from the floor, and he opened it up to pull out several scraps of notebook paper, the same ones that your letters came on. You recognized it as the same, because the blue lines were a little smudged— a defect from the notebook itself. “Look, here was me drafting today’s letter during free period, I rewrote it so many times before I got the version I gave you.” 

“B-But,” you stammered. “Your handwriting…”

“I wrote them with my left hand,” Eddie told you. “I knew you’d recognize my handwriting.”

You felt suffocated as you sorted through the scraps of paper from Eddie’s lunchbox, and you grabbed them and held them in a tight fist. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked, tears threatening your eyes. Under any other circumstance, you would have thought it was funny, but your emotions twisted deep in your gut. You had to tell him that the feeling was mutual. “Ed, I wouldn’t have—”

“You wouldn’t have made fun of me?” Eddie supplied, tightening his arms over his chest. “The only girl I hang out with and I fall head over heels for you, how cliche is that? I-I would want you to make fun of me.”  

“No, Eddie, stop,” you said. “Stop putting words in my mouth. I wouldn’t have rejected you.” 

That stopped Eddie dead in his tracks. His fingers played with the ends of his hair, pressing them to his lips, and he finally mumbled out, “Really?” 

“Of course not, Ed,” you told him. Your chest burned with the confession, and you stepped closer to him, taking his hand back. “I really like you. Y-You’re so… Right. You’re just right for me.”

Eddie seemed shocked, taken aback, but his hand stayed in yours tightly. “Really?” he asked. “But I’m… Me.”

“And that’s why I like you,” you said. “You’re so weird and you’re so sweet and… And I’m glad it’s you. I wanted it to be you.” 

Eddie smiled for the first time, and he stepped closer to you until you could nearly hear his heartbeat. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. “I told you that’s the first thing I’d do, is kiss you.”

“Please,” you whispered, and Eddie didn’t waste any time. His hand went to the back of your neck and tugged you into his body, and he kissed you, pressing his lips sweetly to yours. Your hands floated up, and you touched your palms to his chest as you kissed him back. 

You loved the way Eddie kissed you, passionate but not hungry, sweet but not needy, his fingers touching your hair. His mouth felt so nice against yours, and you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss. Eddie tilted his head and his hands went down to your waist, tugging you fully against his body as his tongue carefully snaked into your mouth. 

You finally broke the kiss, and you couldn’t help but smile up at him, and he gave you a wide smile. “Can you keep leaving me those little notes?” you asked. “I really like them. But maybe you can sign them with your name now.” 

“Of course,” Eddie said, and he kissed you once more. “I’m glad you liked them.”

“I do,” you told him, and you placed a quick kiss on his mouth. “Um, maybe you could come by my house tonight. We could… I don’t know, hang out.” 

Eddie smiled. “Sure thing, princess. Give me one more kiss, then you gotta go. Don’t wanna leave Henderson waiting too long.”

You smiled and draped your arms over Eddie’s shoulders, and you kissed him one last time, admiring the taste of him as his tongue claimed your mouth again. He tasted like cigarettes and like the distinctive tang of skin, but it was wonderful no matter what. “Hey,” Eddie whispered when the kiss broke, and his big hand lightly captured your cheek. “You wanna be my girlfriend?” 

“Of course,” you told him. “Oh, Eddie, I’d love to.” 

“Good,” Eddie said softly, his cheeks turning red. “Good, I’m glad. Umm… I’ll see you later tonight.” 

You didn’t leave Dustin waiting for much longer, even though you could have stayed in the drama club room and kissed Eddie for hours. True to your word, you stopped at McDonalds on your way to Dustin’s house, and you sat in the car and ate with him. “What did Eddie wanna talk to you about?” Dustin asked, munching on a fry. “He seemed really intense.” 

You shrugged. “Nothing,” you said. “Just asking about an assignment for a class.”

“Eddie…” Dustin began. “Asked you… about homework?” 

“Why do you doubt me?” you asked, shoving him playfully. “What else would we be talking about?”

“I don’t know,” Dustin started, obviously having made a list. “D&D, maybe? C’mon, what were you guys really talking about? We both know that Eddie would never ask about homework.”

“Why do you wanna know so badly?” you asked. “Why isn’t it enough to just… Not know? Or care?”

“You know me, I have to care,” Dustin told you. “Spill it. What’s up?”

You sighed, looking down at the pack of chicken nuggets in your lap, and you chewed your lip. You knew that Dustin could be trusted with the truth and not to tell anyone else, and something in your chest made you giddy when you considered saying it out loud for the first time. But, did Eddie want Dustin to know? “I’ve been…” you started. “Getting some letters. Like, little love notes in my locker. Like the one I showed you, only way more than just one. Just stuff about how I’m pretty and everything, whatever, right? Eddie was with me when I got the one today, and he was just asking me about the note. Nothing major at all.” 

“Why does Eddie care about love notes?” Dustin asked. “Who are they from? Is he jealous?”

“They’re anonymous, just like the first one,” you told him. “I don’t know who’s writing them or why… Well, why, obviously they like me, but—”

“Can I see one?” Dustin asked. 

“Fuck off!” you huffed with a smile. “No, you cannot, that’s personal and private.”

“But Eddie read one.”

“Because he grabbed it from my hand,” you told him. “Eddie doesn’t care about personal and private, you know that.”

“So why did he ask to talk to you privately, if he doesn’t care about private?” Dustin asked. 

“I don’t know,” you said. Annoyance was starting to bubble in your stomach, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re asking too many questions, you’re starting to act like you’re my little brother. See if I ever bring you to McDonalds after school again.” 

Dustin didn’t seem satisfied with the way you suddenly ended the conversation, but he didn’t pry any further. The rest of the car ride was mostly silent, save for Dustin thanking you when you got him home, and he added, “If you find out who’s sending those notes, let me know, okay? I’m invested in the mystery now.” 

“Sure thing, Dusty,” you told him. “I’ll see you later.” 

The rest of the evening was slow as you waited. You had no idea when Eddie would show up or in what fashion, and you tried to distract yourself until you could see him. You finished your homework, you watched television with your parents, you did everything you could think of, and no Eddie. You knew he wasn’t the type to show up at your front door, holding flowers or something cheesy like that, but you didn’t know exactly what to expect. 

Your answer came after you went to bed, around midnight. You had given up hope of Eddie actually showing up, and your heart raced in your chest. Did he mean it? Did he mean any of it? Or was he just playing a prank, kissing you and fucking with you for fun? It didn’t seem like the type of guy that Eddie was, but your anxiety didn’t let you think any differently. 

You had already settled in bed, trying not to cry because of the whole ordeal, but a light tinkling on your window made you look up from your pillow. It wasn’t raining, you knew that much, and you slowly got out of bed and went to your window. The streetlight cast a shadow through your curtains, and your heart soared when you recognized Eddie’s frizzy curls in silhouette. 

Quickly, you threw back your curtains and were met with Eddie’s smiling face, and you wrenched open the window to get him inside. “My parents are asleep,” you told him softly. “But they’re upstairs.” 

“Good to know,” Eddie said, his smile still a mile wide, and he climbed through your window and wrenched it back closed. Finally, with a sigh, he turned to you, and he, sighing, said, “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. I had some shit I had to deal with.” 

“It’s fine,” you told him. “You’re here now, that’s what matters.” 

“Glad to hear it,” Eddie said, and he stepped closer, into your space. “Can I please kiss you?” 

“Oh, is that what you wanna do?” you asked with a cheeky smile, and Eddie rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Well, yeah,” he said. He took your hand and pulled you into his body, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, making you giggle. “I didn’t sneak in your window at midnight just to shoot the shit, you know? B-But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

“I know,” you assured him. “What if, umm… I-I want to do stuff with you, y’know? I just… I just want you to know…” 

“Know what, princess?” Eddie asked softly. He led you over to the bed and he sat on the edge, and you were quick to straddle his waist and lay a kiss on his mouth. He didn’t hesitate to kiss back, his tongue snaking into your mouth once more, and his hands went comfortably to your waist, his fingers digging under the waistband of your pajama pants to feel your skin. His hand was still cold from the night outside, and you shivered as his hand ghosted around to the front of your pants. “What do you wanna tell me?” 

“I-I mean, you probably figured this out,” you stammered. “I haven’t ever had a boyfriend and guys at school don’t particularly like me, but, umm…” 

“Baby,” Eddie started, his hands readjusting to sit lightly on your ass. “Are you a virgin?” 

You sighed heavily. “I’m sorry,” you said, and Eddie shook his head quickly, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“No, no, don’t be sorry,” he told you. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m not upset, baby, I promise.” 

“Do you still wanna…” you started, and Eddie started nodding before you could even finish your sentence. 

“Yes, I do,” he told you. “Very much so.” His hands remained gentle on your ass as he leaned forward and buried his face in your neck, and you couldn’t help but giggle as he kissed over a sensitive spot. “Oh, right there?” he asked as you playfully batted at his head, but then he placed his mouth over the spot and sucked hard, definitely hard enough to leave a mark. 

A gasp left your mouth at the intense feeling that washed through you, and your hands clutched hard at the shoulders of Eddie’s jackets. “Eddie,” you uttered, unable to think of anything more profound to say as you felt heat pooling between your legs. “F-Fuck, Eddie.” 

“I know, princess,” Eddie said softly. “Does that feel good? You like it?”

“Love it,” you told him, and you giggled again when he kissed the spot. 

“Oh, I knew you were sensitive,” Eddie chuckled. “Fuck, I love that. Y’know, I meant it when I wrote that you were beautiful. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” 

“Shut up,” you said, but Eddie silenced your protests by pressing his teeth into your sweet spot, drawing another gasp from your throat. 

“I won’t,” Eddie mumbled against your neck. “You’re gorgeous, princess. I’ve wanted you for so long.” 

“Have you ever…” you started, unsure how exactly to phrase the question. It burned at your chest though, and you knew that you had to expel it somehow. “Umm… I don’t know… Jerked off? To me?”

Eddie laughed, then, seeing that you were serious, cleared his throat. “I mean,” he began. “I have, yeah. Is that weird?” 

Your heart thumped inside your chest, and you swallowed thickly. You liked the answer and the thought of it, and you shook your head at him. “I don’t think it’s weird,” you told him. “I just… Wanted to know, I guess.” 

“Now you know, baby,” Eddie said. “Have you ever masturbated to me?” 

You shook your head. “I don’t really know how to do it,” you admitted, feeling foolish for your lack of knowledge. 

Eddie’s eyes softened as he cooed at you. “Aw, my sweet girl,” he whispered softly. “I can show you how.” 

“You know how?” you asked, and Eddie shrugged. 

“I know a little bit more than you do,” Eddie told you, and he tapped your temple with a ringed finger. “Silly thing. Get on your back, princess.”

You scrambled off of Eddie’s lap as your pussy did yummy little flips, and you settled yourself against your pillows as Eddie followed. He pressed his hips between your legs, settling himself right against you, and you squirmed a little at the feel of his cool belt buckle touching the inside of your thigh. Eddie swiped a quick kiss on your lips, and his fingers expertly twisted in your pajama shorts and tugged them down your legs slowly. “God, you’re gorgeous,” Eddie whispered under his breath, his eyes soaking up the sight of you. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, pressing your hands to your face, and Eddie wrapped his long fingers around your wrists and tugged them away, pressing your wrists into the bed beside your head. 

“No, princess, I won’t,” Eddie told you. “I’ve wanted you for months, I only started the letters after Dustin told me I should—”

“Dustin?” you exclaimed. “This was his idea? He was begging me to tell him this afternoon!” 

“No, no, it was my idea,” Eddie said quickly. “He just encouraged me. But he knew; he always knew.”

“That little shit!” you laughed. “He was doing a good job of acting innocent.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Eddie chuckled, his brown eyes flashing mischievously, and he pressed his hand to your pussy, the only thing separating you being the thin fabric of your panties. “Only you aren’t acting.” 

“Eddie, baby,” you whimpered, and Eddie put a quick, silencing kiss on your lips. 

“I know, princess,” he said, pouting. “You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for you to answer; he slipped one of his fingers inside your panties and felt down your leaking slit until his fingertip nudged your hole. Your hips bucked down into your mattress with shock, and Eddie kissed you again. 

“Pay attention,” Eddie told you. “I’m gonna teach you how to do this, okay?” You nodded quickly, and Eddie’s finger glided back up to the top of your cunt. With two fingers, he carefully spread your lips, and his middle finger expertly pressed against a sensitive spot of your flesh. You gasped at the shock of pleasure it sent into your legs, and Eddie grinned. “That’s your clit, baby, okay? Touch that, and be nice with it. Show me what a fast learner you are.” 

“How do I touch it?” you asked, and Eddie lightly circled the pad of his finger along your clit.

“Play with it,” he told you. “Circle it around, like this. Or this…” His finger started differently then, a motion almost like a light flicking towards your belly. That made your hips jut down again, and Eddie chuckled deep in his chest. “Just like that. Show me, baby, touch your clit for me.” 

Your hand shook as you lowered it down your body, and Eddie flopped himself beside you, undoing his belt as he watched you. Your finger definitely felt clumsier than Eddie’s did, a little softer than his too, but your reacted the same way as you copied the flicking motion he had done; you squirmed under your own touch, playing with your clit until you felt it throb with every pass of blood through your veins. 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathed, his eyes hungrily watching you. “Just like that, princess, I knew you were a fast learner. Keep doing that…” He trailed off, and he was quick to press his mouth to your neck, finding your sensitive little sweet spot again. The throbbing became too much to ignore as he kissed and sucked at your neck, and you finally let out a little whimper. 

“Oh, good,” Eddie whispered in your ear. “Just what I like to hear. So, you can masturbate like that, princess, or…” he paused and lightly let his fingers touch you again, this time circling your leaking hole. Then slowly, he pressed his first finger inside you, past your lips and into your pussy. You whimpered at the odd intrusion, loving every second of it, and Eddie’s kisses touched your neck again. “You can add your fingers. Fuck, you’re tight, aren’t you?” 

Shocks rocked your belly as Eddie’s finger went deeper inside you, deeper than you thought possible, until his knuckle was resting right against your hole, the bull-shaped ring pressing cooly against you. “See, isn’t that nice?” Eddie said softly. “God, you’re so soft.” 

You couldn’t help but whine his name, just a quiet mumble of “Eddie”, and he kissed your neck softly to silence you. “Rub your clit, princess,” Eddie whispered in your ear. “I can make you feel so good.”

You did as he told you, your fingers clumsily playing with the sensitive nerve again, and Eddie curled his finger inside you, pressing the soft pad of his finger into that spongy nerve inside you. A small gasp issued from your mouth, and Eddie’s kisses on your neck became deeper, adding the tips of his teeth, nipping softly at your skin. With the biting at your neck, the stimulation on your clit, and Eddie touching that spot inside you, the experience was almost overwhelming, and you turned your face away from Eddie to keep him from seeing the tears in your eyes. 

“No, no, princess,” Eddie said, and his free hand lightly touched your cheek, turning you back to him. “Baby, why’re you crying? Are you okay?” 

You sniffled and nodded. “J-Just feels good,” you stammered. “I-I’m okay.”

“Do we need to stop?” Eddie asked, his face etched in concern. 

“No!” you cried. “Don’t stop, Eddie, please don’t stop.” 

Eddie nodded, satisfied with your answer, and your chest warmed at his sentiments. He was worried about you. You loved that he had noticed that something was wrong and immediately asked after you. It was endearing, and only proved to you how much he liked you. Or, as he had said as he read the letter… “Do you love me, Ed?” you whispered. 

“Of course I do, princess,” Eddie told you, kissing your cheek. “I’m crazy for you, you’re my special girl.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I just wanted to know.”

“Do you love me?” Eddie asked, and you looked at him to see his eyes wide and owlish, hopeful for a good answer. 

“Yeah,” you told him. “I love you, Eddie, I really do.” 

“Good, I’m glad to hear that,” Eddie laughed, seeming almost nervous, like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Are you okay if I add another finger? Will that be too much?” 

“Please,” you told him. As good as his finger felt, you wanted more. You needed more, you needed as much as Eddie was willing to give you. “Eddie—”

He added his second finger inside you without much warning, and the stretch made you whimper in pain. It was painful exactly, but it burned, and you writhed under his grip. “I know, baby,” Eddie pouted. “It feels weird, I’m sorry. But it’ll be better soon, it’ll all feel better soon.” 

Slowly, his fingers worked to fuck you, gently sliding in and out of you as his fingertips grazed that spot inside you. All the while, you were still clumsily playing with your clit. It felt good, but you knew that Eddie could make it a hundred times better, and you whispered, “E-Eddie, oh, fuck… Touch me, Eddie, please, please…”

“Where do you want me to touch you?” Eddie asked. “Use your words, princess, where do you want me?” 

“Touch my clit,” you mewled, your back arching in time with him driving his fingers home inside you. You cried out at the pleasure that hit your belly, and you grabbed hard at your bedsheets. “Eddie!” 

“Shh, princess,” Eddie whispered, laughing lightly. “Don’t want your parents hearing you.” His free hand lightly nudged yours away, though, and his skilled fingers started in on your clit, rubbing it better than you ever could. Your pussy throbbed as he started, clenching around his fingers, and Eddie smiled. “Yes, baby, good girl,” he mumbled. “Are you close? Are you gonna cum on my fingers?” 

Your mind felt cooked, not wanting to work or form words coherently, and you could only manage to whisper, “Eddie.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Eddie chuckled. “Come on, baby, just tell me before you cum. You’re such a good girl, I can’t wait to get inside you.” 

The reminder of what was yet to come made your stomach do flips, and you moaned softly as his fingers sped up. With his speed came a new sensation, one that made your thighs and legs shake, and you whimpered out and turned your head to press your mouth to his. Eddie kissed you back instantly, kissing you hard, his tongue snaking into your mouth, and he fucked you on his fingers, the wet sounds of your pussy almost worringly loud. 

A jolt of electricity hit your body, making your toes curl, and you moaned into Eddie’s warm mouth. “Eddie,” you gasped. “You’re gonna make me cum—”

“Do it, baby,” Eddie told you. “Cum, baby, you can do it.”

He only had to fuck you once more, his thumb rubbing your clit harshly and quickly, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle your moan as you gushed all over his fingers. He watched you greedily, drinking up the sight of you as you shook and writhed under his touch, and he carefully pulled his fingers from inside you. Your bedroom was lit only by your bedside lamp, but you could still see your cum glistening on his fingers, and you watched as he licked at his fingers, cleaning himself up. “Good girl,” he whispered, his free hand smoothing down your hair. “You did so well, I’m proud of you. Mmm, and you taste so good too.”

“Will you fuck me?” you asked, and Eddie smiled. 

“Not tonight, princess,” he told you, and your eyebrows furrowed as you whined. “Oh, don’t start with that, baby. It’s your first time, and I want it to be special. I wanna take you on a date and do all that cheesy shit before I really take your virginity. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I love you, Ed.”

“I love you too, princess,” Eddie said. “C’mere, I wanna hold you.” 

You squirmed closer to Eddie, and you pulled your panties back on as his arm snaked around your waist. He smelled good, like cheap cologne, and you turned and buried your face in his chest. His hand soothingly rubbed your back, lightly scratching with his dull fingernails, and you licked your lips as a question came to you. “Does Dustin really know about the letters?” you asked, and Eddie smiled.

“I never let him help write them,” Eddie said. “He doesn’t know what they say. I don’t even think he knew that I did it all the time, I think he only knew of the first one.” 

“He’s such a little shit,” you giggled. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

“Not if I do it first,” Eddie said, and he pressed a kiss to your head. 

“Maybe we can kill Dustin together?” you offered, and Eddie laughed, a genuine thing deep in his chest. 

“Whatever you want, princess,” Eddie told you. “I’d do anything for you.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #my writing

[impishjesters]

hiii! Could I just say that I absolutely love your writing and they way you describe jax? I love your writing style as well. So-

Could you write a jax x reader where the reader is very sensitive and prone to crying? Like they have a super loud and bold personality, kind of like jax, so you'd think a few mean words wouldn't affect them right? Wrong. They're actually super sensitive and can cry easily. Like maybe if jax were to get into a fight with reader and maybe takes it too far?

warnings(s): Jax, insults/name calling, nondescriptive arguments, angst (I tried to balance it out with some fluff in the second half) note(s): Jax is a noticeable ass in the first half of this, honestly Jax is his own warning A/N: I truthfully believe that his reaction would heavily depend on whether the two of you were just two people trapped here vs in a relationship of some sort. I don't want to post him being only an asshole, so I included his response/reactions if you were his s/o as well. (Also thank you for the kind words! 💜)

As two people trapped in the digital hellscape together

It doesn’t take you long to learn Jax’s disregard for the emotions of others. His blatant disregard for Gangle’s tears and Pomni’s little panic attacks that he only eggs on are proof enough.

Jax would’ve never suspected you to be sensitive given your loud and bold personality, he’s never noticed the subtle change in your posture or behavior when you get insultingly clumped in with the rest—or if he did notice, he never said anything.

A fight with Jax is a one-sided fight, he’ll throw some backhanded question about why you were suddenly being a crybaby, an unfunny joke about how you must’ve taken Gangle’s tragedy mask when he wasn’t looking.

“Look it’s not that big of a deal, I don’t know why you’re getting all bent out of shape.”

Jax is an ass through and through, he’s not trying to gaslight you into believing you’re crying over nothing, he genuinely believes you’re making a big deal out of nothing. It’s just words.

As his s/o

Again you are aware of just what kind of person Jax is—that said you are given some leniency to his awful behavior, unlike the others you have a special place in his chest cavity

As mentioned above he never really suspected you to be sensitive, though he can sort of piece two and two together when your behavior changes or if you just up and outright walk away.

Seeing your eyes water is definitely an indicator that what was said may have offended you in some manner.

Jax isn’t good with this sort of stuff, does he approach you and ask about it? Or does he just ignore it and let you come to him?

Ah, fuck…

It’s not that he doesn’t care that he upset you, but he’s just a tad confused about why you are suddenly upset.

The whole thing gets even messier when the two of you get into a fight. To him, this “fight” isn’t a big deal, when you mention that it’s something he said callously, he’s reminded of the times you walked away seemingly upset.

It takes him a few minutes to compose his thoughts and word himself carefully enough to avoid making the situation any worse, it’s one of the rare times you’ll get him to be more genuine and serious to work this out.

Afterward, he makes the effort to remember not to say or do certain things that particularly upset you. Though it’s tough, sometimes that shit just comes out with no filter, and whoops there he goes saying the thing he told himself he wasn’t going to say with you around.

None of it is ever directly aimed at you though, he can do that much at least.

On the occasion that something minor slips he’ll apologize later on, sigh, and give you a hug. Hugs don’t fix everything but they do get you to stop crying. (This is usually only during cases where you get choked up levels of sensitivity, like, a dog in a movie died and that’s a sad kind of sensitivity.)

On the topic of crying, Jax playfully (genuine) pokes fun at you when you cry over something minuscule. He’ll tease and ask if it’s a hobby crying over the little things—again not maliciously, if anything it’s kinda cute. (You are allowed to take a smack at him if his teasing is too much, he probably deserves it.)

#jax #jax x reader #tadc #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader

[rosedom]

😣😣😣Ga-ming D, P, M, and V please !!! luv n need more of him

"you have summoned GA-MING for the event . . ."

A/N : he's so underrated ,, thank u for indulging me ^^

✦ㅤㅤD = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of his)

he'll never admit it, but ga-ming will go commando sometimes. his pants are already comfy enough—sue him! and, sure, that in-and-of itself is hardly a dirty secret, but his motives definitely are . . . he abandons his briefs on the days he knows you'll be around in the hopes that, by leaving behind the fabric, you'll hardly need to strip him to get to where he's wet n' needy for you . . .

it's hot in the morning when he's getting ready to see you, but when he's in your lap, grinding down on you, and his cunt brushes the inseam of his pants . . . uh-oh. he'll be so embarrassed at it and regret the decision every-time—especially-so when your hands start dipping past the hem of his pants, going down down down and touching nothing but soft, smooth skin !! you love it though (how couldn't you?). and besides—he's always messier on these days.

✦ㅤㅤM = motivation (what turns him on and really gets him going)

i full-heartedly believe that this man is easy as anything. you doing anything to him in that voice of yours, with that gentle touch—it's all plenty to get his cock filling n' throbbing.

however, his biggest turn-ons are definitely your hands: particularly, your hands on him. holding hands with him is sweet, but, sometimes, when you grip him by the wrist instead and pull him along in your own enthusiasm, ga-ming's gonna be left doe-eyed and spacy. it always makes his body turn hot—makes his cheeks flush and his knees go a little weaker—the way you can so easily tug at him, and it sends him back to the bedroom, imaging your hands with that same grip on him, pinning him down to the bed as he writhes beneath you . . . there's that, and there's also you simply calling him by his name. he's so used to using nicknames between the two of you that you outright calling him, calling for "ga-ming !" makes him weak.

✦ㅤㅤP = pace (does he prefer fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

now, ga-ming's the type of guy you'd expect to like it fast; he's so enthusiastic in the every-day life that you'd think it'd spill over to bed. and, sure—he may enjoy it from time-to-time, the fast, rough pace of you grinding into him, fucking him senseless . . . but most of the time, he likes it slow and sweet and soft. when every day is so fast for him, he loves being able to lie underneath you and take it slow, take your cock in barely-there thrusts because it seems to lengthen the time the two of you spend together. his logic is that the longer the sex lasts, the longer he can be with you—the two of you against the world.

✦ㅤㅤV = volume (how loud he is, what sounds does he make, etc.)

oh my god ,, ga-ming is so loud, be that his moans or his talking. he is such a talker in bed, it's insane; from trying to rile you up constantly, teasing you with his words alone, to simply yappin' and whimperin' about how good you feel, how good you are to him. he's definitely a fan of saying stuff like: "y-you feel so good, please," "you're so—mm—, so deep inside me !" "give me more, please, please . . ." and so on. his mouth is ALWAYS running.

but when you've got him fucked-out enough, his jaw'll be dropped open with no words coming out: only sweet, whining moans spilling from his parted lips. whines, whimpers—he definitely does those the most; but he's also a gasper, shaking breaths leaving him just to get sucked back in in sharp lil' gasps that make his whole frame tremble.

tee-hee, first one of the event done <3 thank u so much for requesting, this was so much fun !! the rest will likely be following a similar format.

1 APR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 EVENT 】 #the first of many i assume . . . #alphabet #sub genshin #genshin smut #sub gaming #gaming smut #dom reader #i'm not gonna use as many tags as usual ><

[escherbug]

YEAR OF THE GRUB: JANUARY

Project: Needle Felting with Wire Armature

CRAFT STORE RUNS: 2

(The sleepy but patient Lt. for scale)

This year I started a Master's Degree program in Entomology. I wanted to make sure I was still making fun things while I'm so busy (mostly reading papers and books), so I arranged a set of media-based projects centered around my favorite insect (scarab grubs), trying to complete the project by the end of the month.

I didn't quite make it this time because I ran out of supplies a couple times and made the project a good deal harder for myself than I thought, but I think that's okay. This is just for me, after all.

STEP BY STEP:

First, I used sculpting wire and a pair of pliers to twist the skeleton of the grub. I wanted to be able to move all the legs and the main line of the body. I thought I'd be able to get an easier anchor in on the felt if I covered the hard wires with pipe cleaners, but I was pretty much wrong about that.

Next, I felted a bunch of spare roving into the general shape I wanted, and felted the head and the back end of the grub on in brown. I also hand-sewed six little socks to cover the wires on the legs and secured them as well as I could to the rest of the body so they won't fall off at random. This came out messier than I'd have liked, but I think also that I should cut myself some slack for having designed and patterned most of this on the fly.

Next came felting on the bulk of the fatty, cream colored body of the grub. Part of the reason I didn't end up making my deadline was that I ran out of white/off-white wool roving, and was unable to find it in stock at any stores, so I had to order it online and wait for it to arrive in the mail (it absolutely did and honestly, the new stuff from Shepswool.com is way softer than the wool I was using and a softer color, so it was well worth the wait).

From here, mainly all that was left was detail work. I didn't get a ton of photos of this because all these steps ended up being my Sunday (day of posting), but I used a finer wire, the same pliers, and super sculpey to make gently posable antennae, mandibles, a clypeus and labrum (as well as a pair of maxillae that absolutely did not show up in the end, just much too small), baked the clay on the wires and then affixed them to the existing framework I'd set up on the head for most of the face. The mandibles are attached to the antennae, so they move together, and the clypeus/labrum and maxillae are held on by the wires supporting the mandibles. I also glued on some cute little eyes that came standard with my felting gear.

All that was left at this point was final detail work-- I didn't feel like embroidering on a ton of hairs in the end, but I embroidered on some spiracles and felted those little sclerotized buts near the head.

And voila! A needle-felted beetle grub about the size of a small ferret. Wouldn't it be nice if we had more grubs around this size?

Further notes:

1) it's nice to be making something big enough for once while felting that I didn't stab my fingers constantly! I only stabbed myself like twice.

2) I bought a multi-needle felting tool for this, but I didn't really find it helped much beyond having a safety cover. It was also super noisy to work with, so I ended up going back to using a single felting needle halfway through.

Catch you at the end of this month, hopefully having completed my February project: WATERCOLOR ILLUSTRATION!

#i get excited about bugs #year of the grub #YEAR OF THE GRUB 2023 #escherbug art #needle felting #felting #soft sculpture #beetle #coleoptera #scarabaeidae

[youresodarkbabe]

love like an ache in the jaw (a. turner x reader)

smut.

warnings: oral (m recieving), sub!al, reader gets called momma a bit, idk man

word count: 1.3k

fetus al <3 happy easter 🫶

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

it was a random sunday, around eleven. alex had drank his little heart out the night before and did not enjoy being woken up by erratic knocking on his apartment door. furious, he got out of bed and swung his door open, ready to scream at whoever that decided to interrupt his beauty sleep, but he certainly didn't expect to see what he saw.

every ounce of tiredness left alex's body as he saw you standing at the door, wrapped up in his black coat, holding a little bag. you laugh at his silence and walk in, sitting on the stained sofa in the middle of the flat.

"it's easter, al." you say, fidgeting with the sleeves of the coat. alex's eyes are fixated on you as he shuts the door and sits down next to you, hyperfocused on the fact that you're in his clothes.

"oh, is it? didn't know, you look lovely by the way, should wear my clothes more often. y'know, only if you, um, want to—" alex trails off, mentally slapping himself in the face for acting the way he is.

you take note of how your cheeks heat up at his flustered manner and decide it's time to show him what you were actually wearing.

you stand up and shrug off the coat, revealing a bunny costume, of sorts, complete with a little tail at the back of the bodysuit. it was a soft baby pink, but you're sure alex wouldn't be able to tell you that. all he was focused on were your tits and how they looked in the confines of the material.

"ooh, wait!" you bend down and dig through the bag, alex marvelling at your ass, and turn back to face him, putting on bunny ears.

you also pull out a box and hand it to him.

"i got you an egg. happy easter, baby."

alex smiles at the thought, a warm feeling pooling in his chest. he wasn't sure if it was due to how loved he was feeling or if it was because of how strong the need was to fuck you on the spot. maybe both?

"thank you, god, you look so good," alex stops mid sentence. "i mean the egg. looks lovely. can't wait."

alex hops onto his feet with the egg and leaves it somewhere in his tiny bedroom, hoping you didn't get a look at the massive hard on he was trying to hide.

he comes back into the room and sits down next to you again, you sit on your knees and play with his hair as you speak, one of your hands trailing down his chest, to his waist, before settling above his throbbing cock.

"so, how was last night? seemed fun."

alex opens his mouth to reply, moaning instead as you slowly start palming him through his sweats.

you kiss his shoulder, and stop moving your hand, making him whine.

"'m not gonna help you out unless you talk to me, lovey."

alex clamps his eyes shut and scrunches up his nose before letting his head rest against the back of the sofa. "last night was fun, yeah. me and nick drank a fuck ton." you smile against his neck and mumble a quick 'good boy' as your hand resumes its movements.

"i can't imagine you feel too good now, do you, honey?" you give him a fake pout as you speed up the movements of your hand. he shakes his head, his messy hair growing even messier.

"no— fuck," alex whimpers slightly, grabbing your wrist. "need your mouth."

you give alex an expectant look.

"please?"

you pretend to be offended and pull your hand off of him fully.

alex swears under his breath, his face and ears completely red.

"i need your mouth. please, momma."

his shaky voice goes straight to your pussy, you're sure you've soaked through your panties completely at this point. you flick at his belt and let him take his sweats and t-shirt off and sit back down, you settle in between his knees after.

"say please again, i liked it."

alex's hips roll into the air, you have to hold them down as the blush on his face only spreads further. alex's voice comes out as a strained whisper. how cute, you think. such a big ego for such a little man. you'd crumble those high walls eventually.

"go on, pup."

you kiss his cock through his boxers, looking up at him with doe eyes as you do so.

"please, momma, i need it."

alex looks completely defeated, and you love every second of it. you mutter another 'good boy' as you pull the waistband of his boxers and let his cock free. his tip was almost fully pink and leaking with pre-cum, practically begging for you to take him in your mouth— and you happily oblige.

you wrap your lips around the tip, moaning as you savor the familiar taste, your tongue swirling around it, flicking at the slit. alex's hips buck wildly, accidentally ramming his dick down your throat. you pull off instantly, eyes watering.

"fuck, 'm sorry, i didn't mean to— fuck."

his back arches as you take him in your mouth once more, taking as much of him as you comfortably can, stroking the rest with your hand. your head bobs up and down his length, your tongue spiraling around his thick cock as his hands come up to hold your hair as makeshift way to keep it out of your face. you try not to gag as his tip grazes the back of your throat, your nose brushing against the coarse hair that was littered around his cock.

you pull off almost completely, looking up at alex with those doe eyes again, sucking on his tip innocently as your hands continued stroking him. he was being very loud now, the thin walls of his flat meaning that his neighbors would definitely know what you two were up to. you take your mouth off of his cock, a string of spit attaching your lips to him.

"no, momma, please, 'm so close, don't stop," alex's mouth ran as if he was reciting a prayer. you keep stroking him til his cock twitches once more, cum spurting out and you try catching as much of it as you can in your mouth, just to tease him. you swallow and hold your tongue out, proving that you've swallowed every last drop that you managed to catch.

you lick his stomach and thighs clean before undoing the back of the pink bodysuit, taking off your tights, leaving yourself in your panties alone. you straddle alex, grinding against his soft, sensitive cock that you feel hardening against you.

"you think you can give me another one, hm?"

alex nods eagerly, his mouth hanging open in awe. you take the opportunity to push your finger past his lips and he sucked on it eagerly as you push your panties to the side with your free hand and let him align himself with your drenched pussy. you sink down on alex slowly, taking your time with it, letting yourself feel every vein on his cock throb against your warm walls. by the time he bottoms out, you've already attached your lips to his neck, kissing and biting wherever you can.

alex's large hands find your ass and he tries moving you, but you refuse to budge.

"momma, please," he murmured into your ear, and you comply. you bounce up and down on him, starting off slow, soon transitioning to going brutally fast. alex's eyes focus on your tits and how they move, he looks at you, practically begging, and you hum in approval, his mouth instantly going to leave sloppy kisses all over your chest as you feel that familiar knot in your stomach tighten even further. you yank on alex's hair slightly as you moan obscenely loud as his cum paints your walls. alex's rough fingers rub against your clit violently and you cum soon after he does, grabbing his neck and forcing him into a kiss so that your sounds would be muffled, even if barely.

alex pulls away and buries his head in your neck due to sheer embarrassment.

"that's a good way to start the day, hm?"

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

#cookie cooks #alex turner smut #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner fanfic #smut #alex turner fic #fetus era smut #happy easter i guess... #youresodarkbabe #ignore this if it's late oops

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Apple Crumble NSFW Alphabets Day 19: Brahms Heelshire

At first I was a little hesitant to do Brahms but I knew I couldn't let Fictober go without including him in it so here we have day 19! I know we have a handful more days to go but I can't believe we're heading so fast towards November already but don't you worry I have even more fun events in the works for both November and December <3

Notes: Minors DNI, Smut, NSFW

A is for Aftercare (What they're like after sex):

Aftercare? What are you talking about, He's the baby. He's the one who gets the aftercare. If you wanna take a bath he'll happily join you but don't expect much else besides you having to do clean up.

B is for Body Part (Favorite on them and their partner):

He's immature so considering this his favorite body part on him is probably his dick. He likes how good he can make you feel and how good you can make him feel with it.

His favorite body part on you again would be very immature so probably your chest or your ass. Whichever he's really feeling at the time being.

C is for Cum (Anything to do with cum):

Messy as fuck and only sometimes does he cum inside you. Seeing how much of a mess he can make thrills him so he goes out of his way to make it as messy as possible.

D is for Dirty Secret:

His dirty secret is pretty obvious but he still wouldn't let you know. He was watching you through the walls before he revealed himself to you. His favorite time to watch you was when you would shower, he would sit for hours touching himself to the sight and thought of the warm water running over your naked body.

E is for Experience (How experienced are they?):

None like whatsoever. He's lived in the walls essentially his entire adult life. No previous partners, no previous encounters of any sexual nature. He knew how to touch himself, that was about it.

F is for Favorite Position:

Well first off he doesn't really know what "Positions" are unless you tell him what their called. So he likes really anything since to him it all feels good and he's got nothing to compare it to yet.

G is for Goofy (How serious are they?):

He's not goofy but not serious either, he's just sort of clueless. He's gotta figure out what he's doing before he gives you any reaction so give him some time to get his bearings.

H is for Hair (How well groomed are they?):

If you want him groomed your gonna have to show him how to do it. He's been living in the walls as I said his entire adult life and then some, of course he's a bit unruly down there BUT it's not gross. His parents at least had enough sense to tell him he should shower at least from time to time and use proper hygiene, he just doesn't trim his hair down there.

I is for Intimacy (How are they during the act, romantic etc):

He's actually really romantic, even though he is clueless as hell he does still care about you. He wants you to love him as much as he loves you and wants to ensure you'll stick around.

J is for Jackoff (Do they masturbate and how often?):

How often do you shower and change clothes? cause even if he's not physically next to you he's still always watching. Pretty much every time you do either of those things he sees it as an excuse to touch himself.

K is for Kink (Their kinks):

Another thing he doesn't really quite have down yet. However he does like it when you call him a good boy and tell him how good he makes you feel. (Praise Kink)

He also really likes when you let him tie you up so he can play with you. This is where is immaturity shines since things can devolve into not sex related activities as he will no doubt leave you tied up like that for hours. (Bondage)

L is for Location (Favorite places to have sex):

Everywhere really, all over his house he really doesn't care. The messier the better in Brahms's opinion. Plus your the babysitter he isn't, so it's not like he's the one who has to clean it.

M is for Motivation (What turns them on?):

Literally everything turns him on. Sex scenes in shows you make him watch to you eating popsicles in the summer. He's essentially going to be attached to you at the hip and ready for sex at all times.

N is for No (Something they won't do):

He's another one I can see not liking to physically hurt you. I mean sure he can be mean with teasing, but there's a big difference between mean teasing and physically hurting you and even Brahms knows that.

O is for Oral (Oral Preferences):

Your mouth on his dick, 24/7 365. If you show him how he'll give you something back from time to time but he LOVES receiving and is a hard egg to crack to convince otherwise.

P is for Pace (How fast or slow? Are they rough?):

He can get rough at times, but he always goes kinda fast. He's desperate to fuck you and reach his climax so he goes as fast as possible to reach his climax as fast as possible (Teach this boy how to sex)

Q is for Quickie ( Do they like quickies?):

From the blurb above pretty much everything with Brahms is a quickie. At least to start off with, with the way he acts like it's a race to cum.

R is for Risk (Are they down to experiment?):

He thinks having basic sex is already experimenting so just start bringing stuff up to him and he'll be happy to oblige. He's quite literally a blank slate when it comes to sex so give this baby some experiences.

S if for Stamina (How long can they go for?):

He can go for a good few hours. He does get tired though once he's came a couple times. Sometimes though you do have to remind him to ease off you and take a break to not overwork himself.

T is for Toys (Do they use toys and do they like them?):

Again entirely blank slate when it comes to anything sexual. So feel free to show him the ropes and introduce whatever toys you want. He'll be very vocal when you try a toy he doesn't like so you can try and refine his palette.

U if for Unfair (Do they like to tease?):

Mean teasing all the time, this is where his childish nature shines so get used to childish insults he doesn't actually mean that's just literally what he thinks flirting is like.

V is for Volume (How loud can they get?):

He can get pretty loud, he's totally a whiner and moans from time to time so he gets pretty loud. Luckily the house is always empty so he can be as loud as his heart desires.

W is for Wild Card (Random things):

I could see him liking when you dress up as like a French maid or something cliche like that. He really likes to see you in skimpy outfits and barely there underwear.

X is for X-Ray (What are they packing):

6 inches solid. It's also curved upwards towards the end with just the right amount of girth to stretch you out when it's inside you.

Y is for Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):

Again literally a gust of wind could turn him on so his sex drive is through the roof. He yearns for you every second of every day and can't believe that he has you all to himself.

Z is for ZZZ (How fast do they fall asleep?):

Pretty much right after unless the two of you wanna take a bath. This baby is out like a light until the morning so save any questions, comments and concerns until then.

#slasher x reader #slasher fandom #halloween #Fictober #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms the boy #brahms x reader #the boy 2016

[vex91]

Ahn Yujin - The best one

Pairing: Ahn Yujin x Female Reader

Fandom: IZ*ONE / IVE

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: Request: G!p Ahn Yujin with virgin reader

Summary: You never told your girlfriend that you were a virgin so when she found out, she decided to make your first time the best one.

Warning(s): Smut, 18+ content, G!P Yujin

A/N: I am weak for this idea🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ Thanks for requesting <3

3rd's POV

You couldn't be more lucky right? You had a family who loved and supported you, friends who accepted you, a career, lovely fans and of course an amazing girlfriend who always respected you, loved you and tried to make your everyday better. You were lucky to have Ahn Yujin as your girlfriend.

You met her through the leader of your own group, Chaewon. Knowing how big of a fan you were of Yujin, Chaewon decided to have you tag along when she was meeting Yena and of course Yujin. At first you were shy in front of your favorite idol but her fun and easy personality soon made you relax and enjoyed the meeting. At the end of the night you both exchanged numbers and promised to call each other when you got to your respective dorms.

Your friendship soon turned into a serious relationship that both your groups were happy about, especially Chaewon who always reminded everyone that if it wasn't for her then you wouldn't get together (She's still very happy for you and Yujin and supports you two the most). Despite being together for 2 years you never got intimate with her, of course you wanted it since you were sure that Yujin was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with but there was one problem that scared you.

You never had sex before.

Your inexperience made you fear getting intimate with Yujin because you were scared that you would mess up or that you wouldn't pleasure her enough. Yujin would understand and you knew it but you still had your fears, that's why you tried to stall it as much as you could until you decided that it was time to stop being afraid of it.

After your promotions ended you invited Yujin to your dorm to spend the night since all your members were out. She accepted it and showed up at your dorm with some snacks that she knew you loved. You let her in and just as you were closing the door you felt her arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into her chest. You smiled turning around and hugging her back. You stood there just enjoying each other's presence until Yujin pulled away a little and looked down smiling widely at you, soon her eyes moved down to your lips and before you knew it, she connected them in a sweet kiss.

The longer your lips moved together, the messier the kiss became and soon you felt Yujin's hands going underneath your shirt. Panic rushed through you as you quickly pulled away "W-Wait-" Yujin looked at you surprised but still pulled away from you fully to show you that she didn't wanted to cross your boundaries "What is it? Did I go to fast? Because if you want we can just watch a movie" You looked down thinking if you should just tell her your worries. Sensing your nervousness Yujin slowly took your hand and gently rubbed it with her thumb.

Feeling more at peace thanks to this small gesture, you took a deep breath and looked back at Yujin. Her eyes were full of worry and you felt a little guilty for making her feel like that "No, I want it, I really do but... I've never done this before" Embarrassed you looked away from her while Yujin processed your words "So it's your first time?" You nodded. Yujin smiled and gently pulled you into her "It's alright, if you really want it then I can help you with everything. I'll make this time the best one you could've ever have. Is that alright?" Smiling you nodded.

Yujin connected your lips in another kiss as her hands went back under your shirt. Every kiss with Yujin was special because everytime you kissed you could feel her feelings through it but this one felt even more special. The feeling of her hands rubbing lightly against your skin made you crave more and more as you started lightly pulling on Yujin's jacket. Smiling against your lips your girlfriend let you take her jacket off before tugging at your own shirt that was actually one of the many you stole from her.

You let Yujin take it off along with your bra and for a few seconds she just admired your chest. Her eyes were dark, full of lust but you could also see love in them and it made you even more sure about it. You wanted Yujin to be your first and second and your last. She looked in your eyes looking for even a little bit of doubt but when she found none she immediately started sucking on your boobs, leaving marks everywhere her lips landed on. Soft whimpers left your mouth as you lightly tugged on her hair making her moan in your chest. Soon she came back up and kissed you again.

She lightly pushed you backwards until you fell on your couch. Her kisses lowered as she started sucking and marking your neck as well, consequences of it be damned, how could she not mark you when your moans were so sweet? Her kisses once again went lower and lower until she got between your legs. She pulled your pants down in one swift motion along with your panties and started circling your clit, immediately feeling how wet you were "So wet already? We didn't do much though" Her teasing made you whine as she chuckled at your reaction. Going back to your clit she gave it a long lick, the new sensation caused you to throw your head back with a moan.

Yujin continued sucking on your clit at first slowly but soon her movements became faster. Your moans encouraged her to continue so she did but just before you could come, she stopped. You whined as Yujin came back up and kissed you before her hand came back to your clit. She gave it a few rubs before pulling away from you and pulling her pants down along with her boxers. Her dick came out slapping against her shirt that she still had on and you were shocked. You've never seen a dick in real life before so you didn't had any knowledge about sizes but that was definitely not a small one. Not only it was pretty long but also thick.

Noticing that you were staring at it Yujin smirked "You want to touch it?" You nodded wordlessly as Yujin took your hand and placed it on her dick, you wrapped your whole hand around it, earning a small grunt from Yujin as she slightly closed her eyes at the feeling. Feeling a little bolder you got on your knees and putted the tip of her dick in your mouth, your tongue started licking it in circle motion. The feeling made Yujin moan as her hand found its place on your head, helping you get more of her dick in your mouth. Soon you started bopping your head on it, Yujin praised you the whole time and it gave you a confidence to take her fully, lightly gagging on it and erupting the biggest grunt you've heard that day from Yujin.

Before she could come though you pulled away. Shocked from the abrupt stop Yujin looked down at you just to see you smirking at her "You didn't let me come then I just repay the favor" Before you knew it, you were pushed on the couch again as Yujin hovered above you, her tip grazing your clit a few times earning whimpers from you. Without much thought she spit on her dick to lubricate it more before entering you slowly. She got half of her length in before stopping and looking at you for your reaction. Your eyes were shut as you tried to ignore the pain you felt. You nodded giving Yujin a sign to put in more, so she did. She started entering you again until her whole length was in you. She stopped to let you get used to it before starting to move slowly.

You moaned because of the pleasure and pain you felt at the same time but the more she kept going, the more pleasure you felt. Seeing that, Yujin sped up her thrusts, watching as her whole length disappeared inside you. Your walls clenched on her so well that she didn't wanted to stop. Feeling that you were close Yujin sped up even more and soon she felt you clenching on her dick as your juices started leaking out of you and down her dick. You moaned loudly as you reached your climax, tugging at Yujin's hair a little.

Feeling her own orgams coming Yujin pulled out and started jerking off quickly before cumming on your stomach, grunting as she watched you get covered with her cum. Seeing something so dirty made her feel aroused again and her dick to go hard again. Smirking she looked back at you "Wanna go for a round 2 immediately? A movie night can wait" Smiling you nodded and accepted her kiss as she hovered above you again.

You didn't regret a thing because Yujin was right, this was the best first time you could've ever have.

#vex writes #ive x reader #ive reactions #iz*one x reader #izone x reader #iz*one reactions #izone reactions #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin #ahn yujin smut #ive smut #smut

[mimicmockingbirds]

OK, but hear me out

Say Ride the Cyclone were to be adapted into a film; imagine how much fun it would be to see it animated.

Because for the main plot, like the intro song and the mostly dialogue scenes in limbo, you could easily do a stylistic, but still grounded in realism style that a lot of modern animated projects are doing right now (think Arcane or Into the Spider Verse). But once each of the kids go into their respective songs/fantasies for what their life could have been? What if those were done in completely different styles?? Imagine the additional, visual storytelling that would tell about who they are as characters?

Like say, for Ocean's number, WTWN, everything became more simplified, and the characters (especially Ocean herself) turned into a more rounded, chibi-like style to enhance just how cutesy and likeable she's trying to portray herself throughout that number.

Or for Noel's Lament, everything goes black and white, and the characters become even more 2D stylized, and the film scales down to a smaller millimeter frame, more reminiscent of cartoons from the early 20's, when animation was just starting out, to enhance his idealization of "the olden days" (as Ocean puts it).

Mischa's song, This Song is Awesome could be animated with a more choppy frame rate, and the character designs turn a little more jagged around the edges, kind of like animated music videos (I'm thinking a Gorillaz band vibe). But as he transitions into singing about Talia, the colors start to bleed out over their lineart, and become more paint-like and Talia herself moves like a rotoscoped character (think Loving, Vincent that came out a few years ago) to enhance the sense that she's somewhere between a real person and a fantasy Mischa's built in his mind.

Ricky's song would, of course, be stylized after those sci-fi cartoons from the 90's, like X-Men or Captain Planet.

For the Ballad of Jane Doe, I would love to see something like what Wolfwalkers did back in 2020, where most of the characters (in this case, the other kids) are for the most part, animated like traditional, 2D characters with very clean lines and neat movements, whereas Jane herself stands out for having messier, sketchy line art, and looks more and more unfinished in her animation as the song goes on, because she can feel more and more of her own identity being lost.

Constance's Sugar Cloud I could see done in the classic 2D Disney style (i.e., the Renaissance era of Disney, like the Lion King or Little Mermaid days) because not only is it really smooth and colorful and just all around nice to look at, but it reminds the average moviegoer of their childhood growing up with those movies (among others, obviously), which ties in nicely with Constance's preceding monologue about remembering her own life, and the good that came with the bad.

I'm even tempted to envision the first half of the finale song in a different style, when the stage production would show a quick projection of Jane/Penny's life after she returned to the world of the living. Imagine watching this animated film, and for that segment alone, it becomes that really hyper-realistic, almost uncanny valley CGI animation style, to show that she really has joined the world of the living, i.e. our world, among us, the living breathing movie goers watching this, and watching the other kids still in limbo fade back to that main art style for the final number.

I don't know; it just feels like something that would be so engaging to see from an already compelling storyline and characters. Especially with more experimental animation projects on the rise right now

#random rambling #Ride the Cyclone #Ocean O'Connell Rosenberg #Noel Gruber #Mischa Bachinski #Ricky Potts #Jane Doe #Penny Lamb #Constance Blackwood #idk I just really love animation you guys #so naturally I have to bring my latest hyperfixation into that world #might even sketch these different styles #for a better visual idea #but I haven't done any sketches in a hot minute #so who knows

[nardos-primetime]

TW FOR CHILD NEGLECT/ABUSE & SH

More info under the cut.

Things were hard at first. After the (final) lab explosion, it took a while for Lee to even want to leave it. A part of all of them kind of hoped Muninn and Huginn would come back for them.

Where Draxum's inconsistent dehumanization and high praise only served to build a connection that has rules such as "No calling me foolish names like Dad, only Father if you truly insist." his two henchmen provided more security for the boys.

Once they did leave, Lee- Or Blue. Because names were forbidden from Draxum. They were Red, Orange, Purple, and Blue. Nonetheless, Lee remembered something about getting above ground, into human society, so that's where they worked to get.

Mic has a bit of a temper if he feels like he's being treated like a baby, he'll often respond angrily. (Such as when Lee and Donno try to hide their arguments from him.) This isn't to say he doesn't try to stay cheery, he often plays more of the role of what he thinks a little brother is. Sometimes he cant even control the act, sometimes it feels like his energy levels aren't under his control. He's ironically cooped up by the situation, making him rather antsy since he doesn't have the safety to be free and do things for fun. He is also the one that often collects food and tries to prep some kind of meals for the group. He looks up to Rage and Lee the most since they work to keep happiness between the four.

Rage is mostly nonverbal, only very occasionally will he talk, often quietly. In most cases, he uses body language or other noises. He struggles with his own anger and urges to lash out, which results in him doing the opposite to not scare the others, trying to become as harmless as possible towards them. He tries to help Mic feel better during Donno and Lee's arguments (normally pisses Mic off more.)

Donno is confident. Not really, he often makes jokes and pushes his own ego to ignore the uncertainty of their situation. He is often sitting down or carried by his brothers since his right ankle tends to hurt, possibly from the growth enhancer they'd all been given. He's also the most hungry, so the lack of consistent meals hit him the hardest. He tries to avoid problems, leading to arguments with Lee about what they should be doing, (he normally caves in, though.)

Lee became the de facto leader, leading the others around to try and find their father, which he does believe loved them. Just in his…. Own way. Lee finds the places for them to sleep and takes up responsibilities when needed. Every day, he insists that they'll find their dad (they still follow the name rule, but since dad isn't here, it's not that bad to call him that, right?) Everything will be okay! Even if he's starting to have his own doubts. He's their hope. He can't give up.

Donno always gets hungrier first.

Donno starts an… ugly habit between his brothers and him. And an uglier hunger for a... certain type of meat.

(This is messier ironically since the first draft I had to delete cooked so hard but here's some lore for the beginning Era of the au.)

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt au #rise leo #rise donnie #rise mikey #rise raph #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #rottmnt angst #Draxum's Side of The Family AU

[probablyhuntersmom]

It's me again. The therapist/illustrator who can't stop squeaking and screaming about her beloved son Hunter.

I've been thinking nonstop about him finding the terrible grimwalker graveyard, imagining what would be going through my mind if I were him. Sifting through whatever moments, dialogue and frames that I can find from the existing material, along with references outside of the show, to formulate what an offscreen scene would've been like.. (And seeing if I can find editable and salvageable enough backgrounds so I could perhaps even depict this scene one day)

A soul like him who not only wants to help others, but also acquire knowledge:

heading back here to see the graveyard:

You can't tell me that this wouldn't still be on his mind, and he's even anxious while saying this below, scratching his face a little:

Whether he follows up on this or not, also depends on how he looks back on being shown this:

And is he just going to go cold turkey and totally drop these leads he was pursuing in the episodes before the finale? :

Three things prompted me to finally write this post:

@polyhexian's and @ashanimus's analyses of Hunter's fight scenes in Hunting Palismen and Eclipse Lake (links here and here, they're really cool to read!!), based on their years of experience with martial arts. Reading those was a revelation to me because learning about how high Hunter's skill level is, how in touch with his body he is by default, portrayed so well thanks to the crew...that allows me to make far more educated guesses about his mental health in the early stages of the pre-epilogue gap of about 4 years. Because he is so used to high activity and being on high alert, no thanks to having C-PTSD.

Observing how light and free Hunter's expressions are, and how transformed his demeanor became, in the epilogue sequence. That transformation is an indication to me of the magnitude of grief which had to be transformed within him. To be put back together, in order to be so radiant, generous and self-actualized in the epilogue...imagine how much had to be deconstructed and further broken beforehand. He wouldn't have room to fill his life up with all that amazing newness if the old isn't emptied out first.

This psychoeducational video by my fave author, also a practicing therapist, who specializes in traumatic grief: link. Hearing her address the topic of entering the second year after a bereavement vs. the first year, was interesting. Definitely confirms to me that Hunter wouldn't have carved Waffles until past the 2nd year of navigating his bereavement.

In the years that pass before the epilogue, Hunter will not be able to understand why the efforts he puts into all the rebuilding work, coordinating and leading others, and trying to have fun - only cycle back to him experiencing a mix of a restlessness and emptiness in the deepest layer of his mind. It'll exhaust his energy bit by bit. I bet he's going to generally look as tired as depressed Luz does below, even if he's had an acceptable hours of sleep per night:

That restlessness will be an awful psychological itch that he'll be unable to scratch, caused by losing Flapjack and now also Belos. This is the same as what happened with his anger in For the Future, except Belos was still alive back then. It will be harder to understand and messier to navigate the bereavement this time round. It'll be something gnawing into his soul which I really think only professional help can heal, especially since the show promotes that it's okay to not be okay, and more than okay to seek professional help (Steve and Lilith's conversation in Edge of the World).

He will be trying to claw his way out of that C-PTSD pit, but he'll be aware deep down that he simply cannot reach any emotional high points for long, and something will be blocking his feelings of connection with his loved ones. He won't feel nearly as free and easy the way he used to be in the human realm:

Having a routine like he used to in the Castle, and moving around a lot, was what helped him survive. However, he won't have the awareness that the shift resulting from Belos passing away has been at such a fundamental level: to the point that those old, supposedly tried-and-true methods no longer serve him in any positive way. At least, not until his mental health will be back in better shape.

As he puts in more and more effort to escape that restless emptiness, getting annoyed at himself because he doesn't know what's going on...he'll use up the rest of his strength and eventually crash. That itch won't be solved by going back to overworking tendencies, and like how it is with addiction cycles, he would need some kind of fix for the deep restlessness within. The answer? Productivity to feel useful, which we have seen even in his efforts to fix damaged clothing and well, making stuff in general.

Where the grimwalker graveyard comes in is...once he hears news about its existence, he will stubbornly insist to want to help in investigating it, saying he has already read a bunch of books about them, and can be useful, etc. Worse, if his offer to help to investigate is refused, he will do what he did in Eclipse Lake. Go to the location anyway, to fill that deep void within.

Old habits die hard.

I don't know if he may hear from King (who he'll be seeing fairly often, I think!), The Collector or even Kikimora about it. Since they were the three characters who went all the way down there in King's Tide, and The Collector already knew about these horrors for literal centuries. King and The Collector are also still young kids! Will they have the sensitivity and awareness about breaking this news to Hunter?!

On the other hand, I don't know how the timing will be with Darius, Raine and Eberwolf..Darius will want to get serious about investigating his mentor's disappearance. Once the searching and scouring extends to the location of the Head of the Titan, they will find the evidence staring them in the face. If they want to scour every inch of the Isles, there's also a high chance they'll find the godforsaken grimwalker lab.

Worst of all, Darius would be aware by then of how much Hunter loves to help out in operations like this to be productive. At the same time, Darius's own grief will surface even more, I'm not sure he'll be able to hide that, and Hunter is highly observant. If Darius is trying to hide his own priority of finding closure re: his mentor, I think Hunter will sense that.

Therefore I wonder if this will happen except it's Hunter with Darius:

and then this poor beloved skrunkly son of mine, who so famously said these words at the beginning of his arc:

is probably going to get reckless, and endanger his mental health...not unlike moments like this:

by venturing to the graveyard, whether stealthily or accompanying the grownups, because he'll rationalize it as "getting closure" and once again "being useful". Remember how used he is to moving around so much and being active, combined with growing up isolated so that asking for help can still be a foreign concept to him. He would be anxious about grinding to a halt, and he'd want to be on the move instead.

He may demand to see the graveyard, and holy Titan I'm not sure any dilemma will be as tricky for Camila and Darius to navigate as this one. Because preventing him from seeing something he already knows exists is, in a very twisted way, also an unhelpful form of avoidance. Avoidance is a hallmark criterion for diagnosing both PTSD and C-PTSD.

How far do they go in protecting him from himself? Where do they draw that line? They might reach a compromise where Camila and Darius accompany him there. Once he sees it, it'll hit harder than this:

Letting him see it means his new parents would have to fall with him, in the sense that they follow him to that emotional place: but while he figuratively does not have a safety harness when falling into this deep dark hole, Camila and Darius are equipped with harnesses a.k.a. higher maturity, less of a trauma history, and some tools to help him get better, navigate the trauma, and manage his symptoms.

Camila will have the warmth and sensitivity to catch and meet him as he falls (she interacts with animals in her profession, who don't have the capacity for human language, in a similar way to how serious trauma can't even be put into words at times: it makes you voiceless). Darius's shared past living in the Castle and grieving over his mentor will help Hunter not feel as alone once he has seen these horrors.

And because his heart generally became more open to receiving love and support,

I doubt he'll close himself off almost completely, the way he did in the first two-thirds of For the Future (god, remember these deleted storyboards??):

It wouldn't surprise me if he weeps and panics as soon as he sees the graveyard, and his parents give him maximum support through that breakdown. As complicated as it would be for Camila and Darius to give in to his desire to see the graveyard, a response like this from him - a child seeking attachment with proper timing - is a good sign of growing into healthy attachment with parental figures.

It is an arguably better response than one of the hardest aspects of C-PTSD: where the outpouring of grief only happens after a delay, sometimes a significant delay, at very inconvenient or strange times. Hell...if I were Hunter, I'd probably want Camila and Darius to just hold me close in wordless silence for half an hour until my initial distress and shock passes.

If I use King - a child who is securely attached to Eda, who's definitely had a more stable upbringing - as a control experiment here, he could have the appropriate response immediately in Echoes of the Past and expressed his emotional needs clearly enough:

Whereas this is what Hunter has to now learn, at twice King's age, as he settles in with new parents who take care of him instead of mistreating him the way Belos did. Hell, I can't imagine what kind of Belos punishment awaited him if he cried to demand attachment.

(I need to use more King scenes as a comparison to Hunter's upbringing in my next metas! I realize this can make my explanations clearer)

Anyway, what may happen next after he can't unsee the graveyard is...Hunter will then swing to the other extreme of high activity. I.e. being passive, physically inactive and psychologically crashing into depression, which may translate into habits such as oversleeping (catching up on all that lost sleep...but at what cost?). Supposedly sliding deeper into the C-PTSD pit. A place from which he has to express the desire to seek the forms of help he needs.

Remember that this kid has only known extremes for most of his life. Until he settles in properly with his found family and attends therapy, he has no clear reference point for more balanced approaches in living.

The trauma he went through is a quadruple whammy for a 16-year-old who just survived growing up in a cult. It would be so much. I can't see him not falling into months of deep dark depression, as unfortunate as this sounds.

Grieving over Flapjack, grieving over Belos, over his childhood/upbringing, and now a grisly memory of his predecessors who didn't make it (to add to what he saw in Belos's mindscape). I simply cannot see him handling a load like this without a highly-equipped and sensitive professional, paired with his support network of family, friends and even possibly the wider community at times. Especially now that we've seen him in action during the epilogue.

The epilogue sequence would've had a different feel (and in my opinion, a not-so-good feel) for me if Dana had established that the grimwalker graveyard was still untouched after those 3.5-4 years and if Hunter never found out about it. Something like that is different compared to Dana mentioning in the recent Post-Hoot that in the he does not know about Caleb and Evelyn, or that he is related to the Clawthornes. Mysteries like the Clawthorne heritage can remain an eerie secret that only us in the audience know about, but I wouldn't feel comfy if this were the case for the graveyard as well.

To quote @idlescree's video essay about Hunter's death (link), the show's writers didn't pull any punches when it came to Hunter's development arc. Which means they had to take his story to the "categorically appropriate place for him to overcome" his greatest challenges.

Something tells me that with respect to the grimwalker graveyard and the avoidance theme in C-PTSD recovery, Hunter would've had to put in more work to confront a number of terrifying foes even beyond his Thanks to Them speech. One of which was the graveyard containing the remains of his predecessors.

PS: This is a spontaneous post which branches out from my giant post-finale meta (link) that I pinned to my blog, I suppose.

#toh hunter #the owl house #hunter noceda #camila noceda #hunter deamonne #darius deamonne #toh analysis #grimwalkers #grimwalker graveyard #loz writes a meta

[judeswhore]

https://www.tumblr.com/judeswhore/732551551916359680/jude-massaging-your-clit-with-his-tip-before

Oh my god this!!!

Like imagine him being such a tease and fucking the outside of your pussy without actually putting it in. His tip constantly nudging against your clit, sliding his cock between your lips and he just refuses to do anything else. Literally begging him to just put it in because it’s too much for you but after a while you have to admit it’s the hottest thing.

Bonus points if you still have underwear on and if he cums before even fucking you properly!!! 😵‍💫

obsessed w this actually 😵‍💫😵‍💫still wearing ur underwear so he’s just pressing his dick inside of it and rocking against u, fucking the outside of ur pussy like he wld fuck u normally and ur literally going insane beneath him bc it’s so stupidly hot. he’d got ur hands tied to the headboard too so all u can do is take it and he’s having so much fun watching u get all worked up for him. just keeps nudging his tip against ur clit, sometimes letting it catch on ur hole but never pushing in bc he wants to see if he can make u both cum like this. and he can!!!! u cum first, literally shaking beneath him bc of the nonstop stimulation to ur clit and so ur getting his cock even wetter and messier so he’s sliding through ur lips a little quicker and with a lot less control. he’s moaning so loudly, praising u so much abt how hot u are and how perfect ur pussy is for him, babbling abt how he’s gna cum and paint ur pussy all nice and pretty. and when he does cum it’s a lot and it’s so intense for him that he can barely hold himself up and it’s crazy bc he’s literally not even inside of u??? he’s just collapsing on top of u afterwards and giving this tired little laugh all “that was so fkn hot”

#hey jude :)