#time to tag the ocs who will actually get content later

[euphor1a]

Just the tip

* part of “boyfriend chronicles” — can be read as a stand-alone.

ꨄ pairing: mingyu x f!oc

ꨄ genres: non idol!au, established relationship, fluff, smut, slice of life.

ꨄ summary: he tried his best, he really did. but lord, for how long could he control himself when you looked like a pretty, little angel, all his to ruin?

ꨄ rating & word count: 18+ ; ~9.5K  

ꨄ warnings/tags: fluff (called me single in 100 languages typa way), plentiful pda, they’re so in love that it repulses me /j, profanity, explicit sexual content; dom/sub undertones (a bit of switch action as well), semi-public sex, breast play, biting/marking, size kink, praising, pet names, fingering, teasing, dacryphilia, begging, “just the tip”, unprotected, penetrative sex, big d*ck!gyu, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), creampie — this is a work of fiction and it doesn’t represent mingyu in any way.    

ꨄ a/n: this series is slowly starting to look like my villain origin story 😔... like wdym i can’t have kim mingyu 💔💔? *sigh* anyway, it’s been a while, enjoy <3!

His footsteps are light despite him being in a hurry. It’s almost as if he could start flying at any moment. Mingyu wishes that was an option. The sunlight filtering through his living room windows barely makes it to the kitchen, where he’s struggling miserably. 

Large, shaky hands grip onto the petite looking sliders he has just finished making, carefully placing them inside the various colorful lunch boxes splayed out on the kitchen island. Mingyu is heaving ever so slightly, a bit of perspiration starting to collect on his forehead. He’s nervous. And it’s silly, he knows. But he can’t help his rushing heart that is hammering against his chest. 

It’s been over ten minutes since you texted him that you’re on your way to the park you two are going to meet up for your date. And he’s still here, in his pj’s, trying to finish packing the picnic basket as quickly as possible without absolutely destroying it. Even though Mingyu woke up criminally early with the intentions to cook everything himself, he somehow managed to fall behind because of the stupid cupcake batter that refused to make anything edible out of itself. 

With what feels like the umpteenth sigh of the day, he manages to complete arranging the boxes inside the basket. However, he almost slips while hurrying to reach his bedroom. A string of curses leave Mingyu’s pouty lips, the muscles in his arms flexing to support his whole body against the wall. He still needs to get ready, leave his house, and buy some sort of dessert from the local bakery before finally meeting you.

Thanking himself for picking up and ironing the outfit yesterday night, he dresses up in a flash. Mingyu ponders if he should do something with his hair, but ends up keeping it the way it currently is. Sure, it is kind of messy, but it also gives him that ‘casually sexy’ look. A satisfied smirk and the bare minimum skincare along with sunscreen later, he regards himself in the mirror for one last time. Looking more than good to go.

That state of peace only lasts for a moment though. Not wanting to be even more late than he already is, Mingyu grabs his phone, wallet, keys and the basket. After another minute of scrambling, he puts on a random pair of loafers and heads out. Even though you haven’t contacted him since earlier, he feels anxious. Who knows for how long you’ve been waiting all alone? 

His long legs help him blaze past the bustling neighborhood, hands clutching on the basket’s handle in an attempt to stop it from swaying unsteadily. Mingyu is so wrapped up in his thoughts of you that he actually walks past the bakery — before realizing and taking a 180° turn. The elderly owner smiles at him brightly as he enters the cozy shop, somehow catching up on what exactly is happening with the usually calm and collected guy he has seen for so long. “Aah, Mingyu! Welcome, my boy! Long time no see, eh? What brought you here all of a sudden? Mayhaps a special day with a special someone?” 

“Hi, Mr. Owen! Hah, really though… I don’t remember the last time I found myself having a little dessert. Glad to be back here! Although, I’m just gonna pretend that I didn’t hear the last part…” Mingyu trails off, eyes taking in the pretty pastries and all sorts of baked goodness displayed in front of him. His heart jumps a little when he thinks about how your face contorts in pure joy whenever you ravish the sugar rush from something sweet. “Uh anyway! Please pack me a dozen of these pastel colored macarons! And maybe four of those glazed donuts? Oh my god… are those heart shaped pies?? Looks so cute! Please pack two of them too!” 

The man nearing his late 60s can’t help but laugh at Mingyu’s excited rambling as he points at the things he wants. “Calm down, calm down, I’ll get to everything one by one.” He folds up some new boxes before putting the delicate confectioneries into them. “You really don’t have to say anything though, the answers are written all over your face.” 

Mingyu, who was busy admiring the heart shaped pies, looks up, confused. “Huh?” 

“The question I asked earlier. Which you pretended to not hear. The answer to it is written all over your face.” Owen shakes his head with a smile on his face. 

“Oh–” Mingyu looks down at his feet. Is he really that obvious? But even if he is, should he care about it? Feeling happy and elevated to meet his girlfriend doesn’t always need to be embarrassing. 

“Don’t mind my little teasing now, will you? Do you want me to put these in your basket?” He’s brought back to reality by Owen’s voice. Mingyu nods and brings the picnic basket up on the counter. 

While the old man adds up the prices to write a bill after carefully putting all the desserts in the almost full basket, Mingyu finds himself zoning out. Would you like all the things he’s bringing? What if you have some secret allergy he doesn’t know yet, and you’re unable to eat? A pout forms on his lips. But then he remembers — he’s been pretty late by now, and you’re waiting for him in a place you’re not familiar with at all.

He hurriedly pays and grabs his basket, apologizing to Owen for not being able to hang around longer and leaving immediately. Once he’s outside again, he quickly takes his phone and calls your number. Mingyu almost feels jittery, scenarios going through his head that aren’t exactly nice. Thankfully for him, you pick up after a few rings, greeting him cheerily.

“Mingyu! Hello baby! I’m here already, are you on your way?”  

That alone is enough for the six feet tall, grown ass man to wish he could disintegrate into thin air right now. Not in a negative way, though. He just finds it extremely devastating that you called him “baby” like that. But Mingyu is quick to recover from that feeling. “Hi angel, I’m on my way!! I’m sorry you have to wait there all alone… I’m like a three minute walk away from the park. Do you, maybe, wanna keep talking over the phone?”

“Aw sure! And don’t worry about it please, I’m just standing beneath a large tree and enjoying the scenery! It’s so pretty here!” 

Three minutes feel like thirty seconds with you, as he already gets through the park’s elegant looking entrance. His eyes immediately start searching for you. “Baby, I just got through the main gate! Where are you?” 

“Oh! That was quick, Gyu; should I come over to the entrance?” 

“Nono princess! Stay where you are, I’ll be there. Just give me some directions!” Mingyu insists. To his surprise, you don’t give up for your cause.

“Why?” Your voice is nearly a whine, “It’ll be way easier if I just go where you are!” 

With his heart doubling in his chest from fondness, he sighs, “Fine… I guess. Come over quickly then, will you?” 

“Yep yep, already on my way! I can’t wait to see you!” You giggle excitedly, keeping your eyes on the path as you wander back towards the main gate. Mingyu waits by the side of a decorative statue for you. His gaze is searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person he’s grown to adore endlessly. 

It’s only a matter of seconds for you to spot each-other, two pairs of eyes lighting up with joy. You run to him giddily, colliding into his firm chest that you’ve fallen asleep on several times now. His large arms wrap around your small frame to pull you closer, as if on instinct.

You inhale his scent deeply, a mix of his cologne and the smell of fresh laundry from his black polo shirt. However, you do avoid getting your face smushed up against him— for the sake of your skincare and makeup. Both of you stay locked in each other’s embrace for a while, before eventually pulling away.

“You look so unbelievably pretty, my love.” Mingyu leans down to place a kiss on your head. “And smelling like a dream, as well.” Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you fiddle with the belt loops of his beige trouser.

Only now, you’ve become aware of exactly how fucking good he looks today. This black polo fits him like a glove, paired with trousers that accentuate his long legs. Oh and, he also has a pair of eyeglasses that adorns his handsome face. The whole imagery is pretty devastating to your brain as it fails to process everything your eyes have registered. Why is it even legal to look like this?

You suddenly feel majorly weak in the knees, but Mingyu supports you with his unoccupied hand, flashing you a cocky grin. “What happened, baby?” He teases, clearly aware of the effect he has on you. You hold onto his arms and regain composure, clearing your throat from embarrassment. 

“Uhm, you look… really really great as well.” His eyes twinkle as he smiles upon your compliment, the hand around your waist pressing you into him. Your heart flutters in your chest from the close exposure. Mingyu seems a bit more touchy-touchy than usual, considering that you guys are in public.

“All for you, my angel,” your boyfriend mutters right against your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. As if that wasn’t satisfactory enough, he lets his lips brush over the shell of your ear, catching you even more off-guard. What the hell is in the air today? 

“Uhm– let’s go find a spot for our date? Or are we gonna just stand here?” You look up at Mingyu questioningly, doe eyes causing his heart to skip a beat. He sighs, just slightly annoyed with how his mind goes to unspeakable places with just that.

“Of course, baby, let’s find a place to sit down.” He smiles brightly, watching you wrap your smaller arm around his. To his dismay, his hungry eyes once again take in how pretty and irresistible you look in this flowy, white sundress. 

The soft material caresses your thighs with each stride; Mingyu wishes it was his hand instead. It’s absurd, but the way this dress has pretty flowers and hearts printed across it makes him wanna mark you up. The poofy sleeves, the sweetheart neckline that shows just enough to drive him crazy — God. Even the way your hair is loosely braided with stray locks tucked behind your ear? He genuinely wants to cancel all plans and take you to his home and do you all day.

It’s crazy, really. How can you just look like that and expect anyone to act like a normal functioning human? Mingyu shakes his head a little and inhales shakily. You deserve to get pampered on a picnic date as much as you deserve to get mind-blowing orgasms. 

“You’re not paying attention to me at all…” The sound of your dejected voice breaks him out of his reverie. Shit.

“No, no! Baby, please, I’m sorry… Uh, to be painfully honest with you, I’m distracted because you look so exceptionally pretty, like an angel who’s descended on Earth. But still, I’m really sorry for not listening to what you have to say. I promise I’ll focus from now on!!” He laces your fingers together and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“You’re such a flatterer, Kim Mingyu.” You try to hide your smile, sounding a bit angry to tease him. Your beloved boyfriend hates it when you call him by his full birth name; and this time is no different. However, to your surprise, instead of throwing a tantrum like he usually does, Mingyu leads you to the side of the path. 

“Wha—” you start, but close your mouth out of shock when he covers your frame entirely and leans down to press a sweet kiss on your lips. Your hands press against his toned stomach for support, your head emptying entirely. His lips are so soft against yours, the heat radiating from his body warming you up a bit too much. 

You pull away first, your whole face heated from his sudden action. As you take deep breaths to compensate for the air you lost during the kiss, Mingyu finally speaks up. “Don’t be mad at me today, my love. Please. I’m gonna be so, so sad. I promise I’ll do better but god, please don’t be upset.” His lips have formed his signature pout, your heart melting at the spot. 

You let your thumb caress over his pout, tip-toeing to peck him. Mingyu’s lips stretch into a smile, his unoccupied hand curling around your waist. “You’re so cute, how can I be mad at you?” You giggle, absolutely adored by this soft giant begging you to not be upset. 

“If I am cute, then what are you, princess?” Mingyu grins, nuzzling your hand before you move it away. You shake your head, not willing to debate on who’s the cutest. 

“Anyway, we should really find a place to sit down and get our picnic started. I was just saying that there aren’t a lot of people in the park right now, but we should still find a place with enough privacy.” 

The way Mingyu nods is like a puppy tilting its head. God, the way you’d commit arson for this guy. With a soft sigh, you continue. “And, I also have my own basket, which I left at an empty space I found by where I was standing. Let’s go there first, then we can move further into the park where not a lot of people will potentially find or bother us.” 

It takes you guys a few minutes to go and fetch your own basket, and probably another ten to fifteen minutes to find a spot for your picnic date. Mingyu is extremely happy with the grassy little patch surrounded by tall bushes and large trees, a big smile on his face as he takes out the picnic blanket he brought along. He can’t wait to show you all the food he made. 

Once he’s done setting the blanket, you take off your pastel pink mary janes and settle down on the blanket with your picnic basket nearby. Mingyu looks at you, a bit surprised. “You’re taking off your shoes?” The question makes you narrow your eyes. 

“And why wouldn’t I be taking off my shoes? To make this brand new blanket dirty?” His mouth forms an ‘O’ shape, before he nods. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at him. “You can keep your shoes on, if you want. There’s no need to stink up this place.”

“HEY! I’m not that unhygienic, that last time I just forgot about laundry for some reason. I already told you… And I’m not wearing any socks today…” Mingyu trails off, discarding his loafers with a ‘hmph’. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Stop sulking, Gyu.” You watch him as he sits down as well, adjusting his trousers a bit to be more comfortable in this position. He overlooks you for now, reaching for his basket and carefully taking out the desserts first. Then, he produces a bunch of different tupperwares out of it, placing all the food in the center of the mat, between you two. 

You reach for your own basket as well, cautiously eyeing your boyfriend who seems to be extremely invested in unpacking all the food. The only things you’ve brought along today for the picnic date are flowers, a flower vase, a small canvas and some tubes of watercolor, besides your necessary belongings. Although it’s kinda embarrassing, it can’t be helped because Mingyu insisted on bringing everything for the date. 

“Gyu,” you murmur, hands anxiously gathering the loosely made bouquet inside your basket. It’s oddly nerve-wracking. You’ve never really received or given flowers in a relationship before. 

“Hm?” He doesn’t look up, eyes furrowed as he rummages through his basket. With a sharp inhale, you slowly retrieve the flowers, extending them towards him. Mingyu immediately turns to look at your shaky hands holding a bouquet of Jasmine and Lilacs, his face heating up as he realizes what’s going on.

“____, my baby,” he coos, bringing his hands to wrap around your trembling ones. “It looks so pretty, did you bring them for me?” You avoid eye-contact, but nod to give him confirmation. The wave of weird emotions that hits Mingyu is hard for him to explain. Usually, he’s been the one giving flowers to his partners in relationships. But, being on the receiving end for the first time, he feels as if he’s on top of the world. 

“C’mere.” He leans in to grab your waist, bringing you closer to him, before hoisting you up a little to place you on his lap. Mingyu fixes your dress, then  pulls you closer to rest against his chest. His left hand remains wrapped up around your midsection. “Thank you so much, love. I’m over the moon that you got me flowers. I’m so lucky to be dating you, angel.” He presses a kiss on your cheek, your heart almost bursting inside your chest. 

“Do you know Victorian floriography?” you look at him, slightly embarrassed. When he shakes his head as ‘no’, you go on, “It’s the language of flowers. Back then, gifted flowers used to have hidden meanings… But it’s kinda coming back in trend, I guess.” 

“Oh,” Mingyu ponders, “Then, does this bouquet of Jasmine and Lilacs have a secret message as well?” You nod, looking up at him with a shy smile. 

“Find it out later, okay? For now, please explain what you’ve brought along in so many boxes…?” Trying to change the topic, you take away the flowers to put them inside the vase you brought along, settling it in an empty space between all the packed boxes of desserts.

He chuckles nervously, suddenly remembering all the food he brought. “Uh… right. I might’ve gone a bit overboard with it, but I promise, sixty percent of everything you see is made by me, with so much love.” 

“Whoa!” you exclaim. “That’s a lot of things you made with your own hands… I’m honored.” Mingyu presses a kiss on the side of your neck, nuzzling it affectionately. Goosebumps spread across your skin, and you stop yourself from making any noises. It’s… weird that he’s being so intimate while you are pretty much in public. But god, does it do things to you… 

“You haven’t tasted anything yet, though. Heck, let me show you what’s inside first.” He reaches for the closest tupperware, and to your surprise, you see various, colorful fruits, all cut up in small heart shapes and laid out in rows. 

“Omg, so cute!!” you squeal, clapping your hands together in excitement. Mingyu beams at you, clearly happy with your reaction. 

“Hehe, there’s a lot more to see!” He stretches to grab two more boxes, each revealing tteok-bokki, your mouth inevitably watering from the sight. You’ve had these delicious rice cakes made by him a few times prior, and you loved it to bits. 

He leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Should I take out the chopsticks?” Mingyu closes the box with fruits in it, moving it to the side. “Let’s go from spicy to sweet, hm? I also made tiny sliders because you seem to like miniature food a lot! After these, we can have the desserts!” 

You nod in agreement, snuggling up to him more. Receiving treatment like this makes you feel like a princess. Even though you’re not sure how much he has brought along, you internally make up your mind to at least taste everything and applaud the effort he put into it.  

Once you guys are done eating everything he had prepared himself, you urge Mingyu to take a break and save the desserts for the very end. He agrees, not willing for the date to end anytime soon. 

“I brought along something else as well… if you let me go for a bit, I can take my basket and you can hold me again.” You say after a while of chatting about this and that. Your boyfriend eyes you curiously, loosening his arms around your waist momentarily. That is enough for you to grab your basket and settle down on his lap again. 

“What did you bring? I’m so curious! Wait— tubes of paint?!” To add more to his surprise, you take out the small canvas, a literal gasp escaping Mingyu. “What can we possibly do with these? I don’t see any brushes…” 

“It’s so surprising to me that you’re always on Instagram, yet you have no clue about this.” You tease, placing the canvas in a position where both of you can access it very comfortably. He raises an eyebrow at your comment, feeling very attacked. But he refrains from saying anything.

“Let’s just start doing it, okay? It’ll make sense immediately because it’s nothing complicated.” You sigh, taking Mingyu’s palm in yours. He looks confused as you take the red watercolor tube first, getting rid of the cap and squeezing out a generous amount on the top of pinky finger. 

“Oh…” He lets you take his hand and bring it to the center of the tiny canvas, pressing the paint covered finger carefully against the paper. “But what’s that supposed to do? It just looks like a blob of paint…” Mingyu looks at you questioningly as you retreat his pinky from the canvas. 

“Oh hush, don’t be so impatient!” You scold him jokingly, pointing towards a bunch of tissues. “Clean up your finger now! You’ll find out soon enough.” He puffs out his lower lip, reaching for a tissue while grumbling.

You take the tube of blue watercolor and cover your whole thumb with a thick layer of paint. Mingyu watches you curiously while you press on your thumb in the opposite direction of his ‘blob of paint’, trying to get the sizes as close as possible. “That is so fucking adorable?!” Your boyfriend erupts in cute aggression when you lift up your thumb, revealing a heart made with your fingerprints. 

“It’s so cute, you’re so cute, fuck, I–” He stops himself before any inevitable words roll off his tongue. Mingyu is well aware that you prefer to take things slow, and he wants to make sure that you can process everything at your own pace. His thoughts are interrupted by your giggles. 

He tightens his hands right beneath your chest, pushing you close to nuzzle the crook of your neck. “Is it that funny? So fun to watch me lose my shit because of how fucking adorable you are, hm?”

“It’s not like that…” you murmur, goosebumps all over your body. “I just thought that it’s kinda amusing how you were all clueless and nagging about it earlier, then suddenly, you were screaming about how cute this is.” It’s hard for you to not make any sounds when he’s caressing your sensitive areas, but you attempt to keep your voice low and steady. 

Mingyu wishes he could explain how much that tiny heart shaped painting actually means to him. It’s almost like all your heart is into those two blobs of red and blue paint, looking back at him, telling him secrets you’ve never shared with him before. He feels all warm and fluffy inside, his senses all wrapped around your nuances. “Can I keep that for myself?” 

“Of course!” You smile brightly at him, extremely giddy that he wants to keep this small token of your feelings for him which will last way longer than the flowers. “Let the paint dry first, though.” 

“Sure, baby.” He squeezes you in his arms. “Can we have the desserts now? I know it doesn’t look like it, but there are plenty of them.” Mingyu whines, feeling sort of desperate to show you everything he bought earlier. Thankfully for him, you nod, perking up at the mention of many desserts. 

He reaches for the box with pies first, knowing very well you’ll absolutely adore them. And you do, blessing his ears with one of those cute squeals of yours, eyes sparkling at the sight in front of you. “OMG!! So pretty! And it looks delicious!” 

“Mhm, I had a feeling you’d love to have these. Let’s dig in!” Mingyu takes out a small bottle of hand sanitizer, squirting out some of it on both of your hands. These pies are very conveniently palm-sized. With its crust shaped like a heart, ruby red filling made out of cherries — it sure does make you feel hungry just by looking at it. 

“C’mon, take a bite,” your boyfriend muffles out, mouth already full of the big bite he has just taken. You nod gingerly, taking a shy bite of the pie as well. The buttery, flaky crust, paired up with a bit of the sweet cherries melt in your mouth, a satisfied sound rumbling in your throat. 

“Mm, it’s really good!” The smile on your face is like a whole trophy to Mingyu. You liked it. He’s so glad that he can’t really explain. 

“Yay!!! I got you donuts and macaroons as well!” He blurts out, all giddy looking at you savoring the sweet dessert. Once you’re done with the pie, he reaches for the boxes of both donuts and macarons, earning a small whine from you.

“I can’t eat that much… I’m almost full.” 

“Why? You only ate a little…” A frown forms on your boyfriend’s lips.

“Gyu. I had a ton of tteok-bokki. Then sliders. Then fruits. On the dessert side, I already had a pie. I’m really, really, sorry, but that looks like a lot of macarons and donuts. My stomach will either burst or I’ll just throw up at the end of this!” You try your best to make your point stand, pleading with your eyes for him to understand.

Mingyu heaves out a sigh. “Fineee. You’re gonna take the macarons back home with you, then. I bought these especially for you. And I’m not listening to any complaints about that.” 

“Gyu, that kinda makes me feel bad though… you basically did everything for this date.” 

“Baby, I did everything voluntarily because I wanted to treat you like this. Like you deserve to be treated. And c’mon now! You brought flowers for me, and came up with a fun little activity to do. What about all the dates we’ve had before that were totally planned by you? So pretty please, with a cherry on top, don’t turn me down?” 

You turn in his lap to face him, blinking back the silly tears that clouded your vision. He hums in approval as you wind your arms around his neck and pull him in for a sweet kiss. Although, you pull back soon enough, resting your foreheads together instead. “You mean so much to me,” you mutter, eyes locking with him. 

A strange warmth spreads throughout Mingyu, radiating inside-out and filling up his heart. He doesn’t really know what to say back — simply because he’s over aware of the fact that he is completely and utterly in love with you. But he doesn’t want to hurry, he wants to move with you, as you slowly open up your petals to him, like a flower does to a sun. 

“I wish there were words in my vocabulary capable of explaining how much you mean to me.” He smiles softly, pressing a butterfly kiss to the corner of your lips. Mingyu absolutely adores the sound of your giggle that drifts to his ears. 

“You’re so cheesy, I kinda like it.” 

“Just 'kinda'?” He can’t help his own chuckle. “And here I thought I was getting a lot of charm points for being cheesy.” 

“You can be cheesy all you want, baby. I think most of your charm points come from your physical features at a first glance.” You boop his nose, both of you bursting out in laughter. 

“Are you saying that I’m handsome?” 

“Mhm. Very handsome, in fact. Very tall as well. Very… very big too.” You can see the playful glint vanishing from his eyes. Mingyu inhales a shaky breath. 

“Let’s get to those donuts now. Please?” 

You nod, moving around to get back on your previous position. He bites back a groan as your hands feel around, squeeze and grab on his thighs before you settle down. “What donuts did you bring?” 

“Glazed donuts, cause you really liked them the last time!” He wraps an arm around your waist, adjusting you to be closer to him. Mingyu is well aware that he’s barely holding up. But, he’s trying to convince himself that being closer to you can get him through his… hard times.

“Whoa omg these look so good?!” His inner monologue is interrupted by your squeal. A small smile curls up his lips. 

“Right? Dig in, baby!” He encourages, leaning forward to take a donut for himself. You follow suit, excited to bite into the sugary heaven. 

The sweet dough crumbles in your mouth upon the first bite, the sugar glaze hitting your taste buds just right. As you savor the pleasant taste of it, a satisfied hum rumbles in your throat. “Gyu, this tastes heavenly. Way better than the last time we had it! And I loved the ones we got back then?!”

“I’m so glad, my angel. I’ll get you more the next time we meet up~” Your boyfriend nuzzles your hair affectionately, his heart doubling in his chest from adoration. It’s hard to explain how great he feels simply by seeing you happy, enjoying your food. Maybe, it’s because Mingyu himself loves to eat heartily and cook for his people; he hopes that he can see you like this forever. 

It would be so nice, he would cook for you everyday and help you out whenever you felt like cooking, and dine-out and order in as your heart desires. 

You’re almost done with your second donut by now, but Mingyu hasn’t said anything or even touched his portion after saying that he’d bring you more. Kind of worried, you turn your head to look at him, finding his eyes transfixed on you. 

“... Hello? Why’d you go silent? Is something in my hair or—” you stop halfway when you notice his gaze has shifted to your lips now. It makes you swallow nervously, anticipation building up in your system. You know that look all too well. 

“There’s something on your lips.” His voice is nonchalant, relaxing your senses a bit. You nod, attempting to wipe off the crumbs with your hand, but he catches your wrist, leaning in swiftly to wrap your lower lip between his. 

Goosebumps spread all over your body, hands automatically winding around his neck as he suckles on the delicate flesh of your lips. His free hand rests against the small of your back, urging you to turn towards him fully. 

You really don’t understand how he can kiss you this good when you are yet to open up to his tongue. Your body has already started to heat up, breathing uneven. With shaky hands, you clumsily take off his glasses, his lips curling up in a smile against yours. 

Soon enough, he coaxes your mouth open, his hand letting go of your wrist and cupping your jaw instead. You both moan simultaneously, crazed by the sweet aftertaste of the desserts. Mingyu is extremely eager, taking the lead as always, your body starting to quake from the mind numbing kiss.

Picking up on your struggle to breathe, he pulls away just enough to whisper against your lips. “You have to keep breathing through your nose, baby. You can’t just forget to breathe, even if I’m kissing you so good for so long that your mind goes blank.” 

You flush at the mention of your usual complaint against him whenever he has to give you space to breathe during a make-out. “I… I try, I swear, but it’s…” you trail off between huffs, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Aw, am I giving my princess a hard time?” Mingyu pats your head, nudging you to get back up. You nod, a small chuckle escaping him. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” he leans in for a brief peck. “And so pretty, looking like a fairy today.” 

He returns to the kiss with full passion, tongue immediately entangling with yours, a low groan escaping him. You taste so maddeningly sweet, like an endless source of honey to his bee. He suckles on your tongue, his teeth nibbling on your lips, reducing you to an absolute mess. You are, quite literally, shaking, arousal dripping down your core and ruining the pretty lace thong you wore for today’s date. 

“Aah–” you gasp as he trails down to press wet, sloppy kisses down your neck, hands pulling at the sleeves of your dress. You don’t stop him, threading your fingers through the luscious locks of his wavy hair. Mingyu has nearly forgotten that you guys are technically in public, and has made you do the same. He drags your bra strap off your shoulder using his teeth, biting and sucking on the newly exposed skin.

One of his hands is wrapped around your waist to secure you, his other hand slipping beneath the skirt of your dress, stroking your thighs. Only now, you suddenly remember that you’re on a picnic date in a somewhat secluded part of a very public park. “Mm–mingyu– don’t—” you struggle with your words,  overwhelmed by his ministrations. He’s everywhere — touching, squeezing, licking, kissing and biting. “Stop, please.” You whimper, his actions halting immediately. 

“What’s wrong?” Mingyu lifts his head to assess your situation, looking dazed himself, his voice hoarse. You swallow nervously, your own eyes glazed with tears that had appeared because he made you feel a bit too good.

“We… we’re in public,” You state firmly. “We can get caught in a very indecent state if we keep going.” 

Mingyu takes a look around the surroundings. Tall bushes and plenty of large trees cover this small patch of area entirely. He knew exactly what he was doing when he chose this spot. One would have to wander off very far into the park and physically push off bushes to get in here like you guys did. Which, to him, seems extremely unlikely. 

“I wouldn’t call this public, my love.” He takes both of your hands to entwine your fingers. “And I highly doubt someone would come this far and specifically peek around the bushes to catch us. You do remember how long it took us to get here, no?” 

“Yeah… but, what if—” 

“There are no ‘what if’s, my angel. Even if someone did come this far into the park, they’d still have to manhandle the bushes to be able to see what’s on the other side. Please, trust me…” 

His broken look stirs something in you, and you lean in to touch your foreheads together. “I do trust you. And I want you as much as you want me,” you whisper shyly, your thong uncomfortably damp and sticking to your skin. “But, wouldn’t it be better if we go home quickly, and um, finish what we started…?” 

Mingyu sighs, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you as close as possible. “I don’t think I can hang on for that long, baby. I need you so fucking bad. I’ve been struggling to keep myself together for an embarrassingly long time now. You– You just look so goddamn pretty. Like a tiny little fairy who is all mine to ruin. Fuck, just… just see what you’ve done to me.” He takes one of your hands and guides it to his crotch, blood rushing to your face. 

“If you want me just as much as I do, you must be soaking wet, right?” His whisper is hot against your neck, right hand holding your own to his growing bulge while his left hand slips between your thighs. You gasp when he rubs his fingers against your ruined underwear, a satisfied grunt reverberating in his throat. “Fuck.” Mingyu curses under his breath, his hips bucking up to your joined hands.

“You really want us to go home in this state? Hm?” His voice is a whine, only adding more to your devastation. To be really honest, all logical reasoning left your system the moment he made you feel his hard-on. And then he had to feel your drenched thong in return as well, arousing you to the extent where you don’t really give a fuck about being in the open anymore.

“Hngh, fine— do it quickly.” You whimper, every inch of you begging for his touch, to be relieved. Mingyu smiles, ecstatic upon your words, hungry lips finding yours for a kiss. You moan at the contact, pussy clenching around nothing. 

“As my princess wishes.” He hums, pulling down your dress to reveal your bra. His pupils dilate at the sight in front of him. Even when he dragged down the straps of your bra with his teeth, he didn’t think you’d be wearing a rather provocative lacey piece today. “Fuck,” Mingyu bunches up your dress around your waist, a groan escaping him.

Is this another fantasy of his? Cause no, fuck, you sure do look like it. 

The delicate lace work barely covers anything, his cock throbbing inside the confines of his boxer-briefs. He feels like he’s high. “Baby,” your boyfriend rasps, “do you even understand what you do to me? Hm?” 

“You like it?” your voice is a whisper, fingers digging into his shoulder from nervousness. A part of you knows the answer already, but still, hearing it out loud from him always makes you feel butterflies. 

“You’re really asking me that? Fuck, I love it, you’re so fucking pretty, I can’t believe that you’re real, and mine.” Mingyu groans, one of his hands reaching for your bra and pulling at its cups. His mouth immediately attaches to your left breast as soon as it is released. You gasp, body quivering at the touch. He bites and suckles on the soft flesh teasingly before reaching for your hardened nipple. 

You whimper out his name, fingers gripping on his hair. The way his tongue swirls around and suckles on the sensitive bundle of nerves makes you dizzy. More arousal leaks out of your core, desperation cresting higher and higher. You need him in you, right now.

But Mingyu is lost in your breasts, reaching for your right one after a while, teeth dragging over the nipple before his tongue slurps at it. You quiver and whine in his arms from all the sensations you’re feeling. He knows exactly what to do to make you feel good, and he never slacks off at that. 

“You’re so perfect, my little angel.” Mingyu hums, his right hand groping your left boob. “Fits so perfectly in my hand, so cute,” he murmurs before looking up at you. As he meets your tearful eyes, he loses a bit more of his sanity. 

“Damn it, you look so—” he stops short, breathing heavily. Will he ever get used to the way you look during intimacy? Probably not. The flushed face, teary eyes and parted lips always gets him.

“Gyu,” you whine, hugging him tightly. “It hurts, please do something,” your whisper is hot against the shell of his ear. Mingyu can’t help but smirk, wondering if he should tease you. “Need you in me.” your sweet plea stirs him, more blood rushing towards the south.

“Fuck it.” He reaches between your thighs, cupping your pussy. The soaked, warm fabric makes him growl. Your hips immediately start rocking, generating friction — something you’ve been craving for so long now. You sigh in relief, using his hand to stimulate yourself.

“What if someone sees you like this right now? So needy, humping my hand?” Mingyu asks, amused. Goosebumps spread over your skin, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. However, you don’t stop moving your hips, inner walls clenching in desperation. 

“Do–don’t say that,” you whimper, “so embarrassing.” 

“Is that so? But you’re still rubbing into my hand, though.” 

“It’s because you won’t help me…” 

Mingyu can’t help but chuckle, his thumb finding your clit and pressing on it firmly. You scream out, a strong pulse of pleasure spreading through your nerves. He shushes you, alarmed. “Shh, you can’t be so loud today, baby… what if someone hears you and decides to check what’s going on?” 

You bite your tongue, absorbing his words. The thought paralyzes you from embarrassment, but for some reason, your pussy has a mind of its own. “It’s all your fault,” you croon, “it’s all because you can’t control yourself.” 

“I already said this like a hundred times, but, you look so fucking pretty in this cute little dress, baby. So fucking pretty. How am I supposed to control myself? When all I can think about is ruining my sweet angel?” Mingyu rasps, his calloused fingers rubbing your clit in tight circles. You’re certain that your legs will give up at this rate, your whole body teetering from the stimulation. 

“Bu–but—” you lower your voice to a whisper, “people will catch us like this, what then?” He presses a fleeting kiss on the corner of your lips, pushing the soaked lace of your thong to the side and sliding his middle finger between your labia against your slit. You swallow back a moan, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Guess you’re gonna have to keep it quiet in that case.” Mingyu pushes the digit into your sopping hole, making a ‘shlick’ sound that surprises both of you. “Fuck, did you hear that? Did you hear how wet you are for me?” You squeeze him in response, nerve endings on fire. It feels so incredibly good to finally have something fill your aching core. 

“Move, please,” you whimper, getting impatient. As if to test you, he slowly starts dragging his finger down, before pushing it back inside in a rough manner. You muffle your squeal against his shoulder, overwhelmed yet wanting more of him.

Soon enough, Mingyu loses the patience to tease you, his own urges kicking in. His ring finger slides into the depths of your molten warmth as well, your walls clenching around him from excitement. “You drive me fucking crazy,” he hisses under his breath. Slow, languid movements let him feel the way your arousal coats his skin in a silky veil, making him feel kind of suffocated around his crotch.

“Baby,” you whine, “wan’ more, please.” The burning ache for a release fires through your system, every single one of your cells begging for more. A breathy laugh rings in your ears, to your dismay.

“Want what exactly, love?” Mingyu’s eyes are twinkling with mischief, knowing very well that he’s pushing your boundaries right now. 

“Harder,” your choked whisper is hot against the shell of his ear. He clenches his teeth, thumb pressing down onto the swollen nub before anything. A gasp escapes you, face falling to rest in the crook of his neck, breathing uneven. His fingers pick up speed eventually, your lower stomach in knots, a shiver running down your spine. If your mouth wasn’t pressed up against his skin, you probably would’ve blabbered about how good he’s making you feel. 

It doesn’t take long for you to crest up towards the pinnacle, whole body convulsing, preparing itself for the rushing relief it’s about to experience. Mingyu, knowing very well that you’re about to finish, adds a third digit into your slippery warmth, seemingly triggering your orgasm. You muffle your cries in his neck, falling onto him as your legs give up entirely. He holds you securely with his free arm, feeling kinda dizzy himself. His neck is all slobbered up, covered with messy bites you left while trying to silence yourself. 

It takes you longer than usual to recover, finding the strength to stand on your knees. Blood rushes to your face when you regard the state of your boyfriend’s neck, even the collar of his black polo a victim to your actions. Mingyu, on the other hand, barely holding on, finally starts to pull out his fingers from your pussy, your juices leaking out on his hand profusely from the movement. A breathy whimper escapes you, nerves alight for pleasure once again. 

“Fuck, take a look at this,” He holds up his hand between you two, the slightly viscous liquid catching the sunlight and glowing, making you flush. “You treat me s’well, baby, servin’ me liquid gold.” His words only make you even more embarrassed, eyes avoiding him at all costs. The lewd sound of his slurping sends a tingle through your core, droopy eyes shyly catching him lick his fingers clean. You shudder a little when he moans satisfactorily, eyes trained on you the whole time.

In a sudden surge of boldness, you reach out to caress his jawline, bringing him closer for a kiss. Mingyu hums, a smile forming on his lips before attacking your mouth with full force. You gasp and moan while he finds his way to your tongue, the growingly familiar taste of yourself on his saliva causing a new surge of arousal to your core. Quite desperate to feel him now, you fumble with the button on his trousers blindly, undoing it quickly before reaching for the zipper. 

“Fuck,” Mingyu pulls away with a hiss, his stomach tightening from the feeling of your hand lightly pressing onto his clothed cock. Your eyes greedily devour the outline of his boner, almost poking at the material of his boxer briefs. Pussy clenching at the thought of him filling you up, you pull at the waistband of his underwear. 

“My god, Mingyu,” you swallow nervously, unsure how to react as his heavy cock springs out of its confines, slapping against his tummy. You’ve never seen it this angry and twitching, head covered with a light sheen of his pre-cum. Heart almost beating out of your chest, you reach for him, hands delicately wrapping around his length and giving it a few, slow pumps. 

“Baby, fuck—” His eyes shut close, teeth digging into his plump lower lip to restrict any noises. With your thumb, you spread the gathering pre-cum all over his tip, making him whimper in the process. If you don’t get fucked right now, you might just lose your mind. 

“Need you,” you whisper, pressing a fleeting kiss on his nose. Mingyu looks as if he’s pained, a defeated sigh escaping him. 

“My love, I– I need you too. So, so bad, can’t explain.” His eyes tear up suddenly, “B-but—” 

“What happened…?” You ask, alarmed by his expression.

“I— I don’t have a condom.” He frowns, wrapping his arms around your back and burying his face in the comfort of your chest. “I’m so sorry, baby.” Your heart drops to your stomach because of how devastating his tone is. 

“Nooo! It’s okay… um, we didn’t know this would happen, y’know? So, um, don’t apologize, please. And don’t talk like that.” You nudge him to look at you. 

“Yeah but… what are we gonna do now? We agreed to be safe from the beginning, so–”

“Well, I’m on birth control for my periods either way, so it’s okay.” You cut him off, desperate for him at this point. 

Mingyu looks up at you, hesitant. “Angel, are you really sure about that?”

A sigh escapes you. You know why he is feeling uncertain, you know that you are the reason. “Gyu, I don’t know anything, but I might just go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now.”

He inhales a shaky breath, your words toying with the few last strings of self-control left in him. “Okay, what about this — I’ll only put the tip inside, make you feel super good so you come quickly for me, and then I’ll pull out before I make a mess.” 

Your body shakes from anticipation. “Just the tip?” 

“Just the tip, baby.” 

Even though it’s not exactly what you had in your mind, you agree quickly. Anything to have him inside you. Also, you’re not too sure how that will possibly work out. You’re almost certain that you’ll end up getting more than just the tip.

Mingyu grabs your waist to position you right on top of him, the urgency in his actions painfully obvious. You gladly comply, too needy to say anything. As you feel his bulbous tip lining up against your entrance, you lean in to touch your foreheads together. “Gyu, I can’t wait anymore, need you right now.” 

With a groan, he slowly guides you down his length, only letting his tip and the following inch inside. You whimper, struggling a little as you get used to the stretch. It’s kind of astonishing how even just that fills you up satisfactorily. But still, you crave all of him, your body knowing the euphoria of having him up in the furthest nooks of your pussy very well. “You’re so big,” you murmur, inner walls clenching around him greedily, eager for more. Mingyu huffs out deep breaths, his ears turning red. How cute.

He collects himself in a moment, firm hands around your hips to make sure you don’t slide down further than he intends to give you today. “You feel s’good, so wet and hot, I feel like I’ll melt.” Mingyu sighs, helping you ride him, his thumb rolling your clit in lazy circles. 

You muffle your cries as he moves your hips in a slow and steady pace, inevitably sliding down his cock, little by little. However, he doesn’t really notice it, lost in the feeling of your pussy squeezing him so deliciously. “Gyu, harder,” you plead, a bit tired of this torturously slow pace. 

Mingyu complies almost immediately, pulling you even closer, his own hips bucking up to meet you halfway, while he continues to guide your movements. You moan out happily, arms winding around his neck. His thrusts are shallow, but the frenzied movements trigger more pleasure in you.

Eventually, he loses control over your movements, momentarily giving up against the fiery impulses running through his nerves. With all the lubrication between you two, you slide down as much as possible with nothing to restrict you. A string of incoherent words leave you, your body extremely giddy to get what you’ve wanted for so long. 

“Fuck, no, this isn’t working,” Mingyu finally regains his senses, groaning as the untouched parts of his cock are engulfed by your warmth. He swiftly pins you down on an empty side of the picnic blanket. “Bad, bad girl.” 

You squirm under him, whining while he pulls out of you, until only the tip is inside. “Now tell me, what should I do, now that you’ve broken our little deal.”

“Fuck me.” you whimper, your eyes teary by now. Mingyu tuts, shaking his head. You try your best to channel your pitiful, puppy dog eyes, ready to beg if that’s necessary.

“Such crude words from my sweet, little angel.” He sighs, “You’re really into testing my patience, aren’t you? Does it make you happy? Watching me lose my senses over your words?” 

“Don’t hold yourself back, please. I want to make you feel good too. Please, Gyu. Fuck me, make me yours, I don’t even care if people see or hear us anymore. Please.” Your voice is broken, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Mingyu swallows nervously.

“Fucking hell.” The growled expletive marks the end of whatever self-control shit he was on. With one hard thrust, he smoothly fills up your touch-starved pussy entirely, coaxing out a loud moan of relief from you. His right hand immediately covers your mouth. “You might not care about some rando catching us like this anymore but I’ll be damned if someone sees you like this.” 

Mingyu lets go of your wrists, putting his left hand on the small of your back to support your body. “Don’t you dare complain about how you can’t walk later. You brought this upon yourself, remember.” He nibbles on your earlobe teasingly before starting to move against you. His thrusts are on the rougher side, your stomach tightening as the pleasure starts to build-up. 

With your free hands, you reposition his palm covering your mouth, suckling on his fingers instead. In response, you feel his cock twitch so vividly in your pussy, a groan reverberating in his throat. “You’re a fucking menace, you know that?” 

Mingyu pounds into you in a frenzy, quite obsessed with the raw feeling of your spongy flesh gushing around his cock. You moan and cry around his fingers, clenching happily as you feel your release right around the corner. He also picks up his pace, grinding down onto your clit in the process. Your brain has lost all the critical thinking power, salty streaks running down your cheeks as you’re overwhelmed by the sensations.

You remove his fingers from your mouth, desperate to be heard. “‘m gonna come–” 

“Fuck, come for me, love, I’m gonna pull out,” Mingyu grunts, his pace faltering as his movements lose rhythm, inching closer to his own release.

“No, no— come in me, baby. Please. Don’t ruin my dress.” He has no idea what you are on about, but he’d be lying if he said that it doesn’t sound tempting.

“Princess, do you even know what you’re saying?” He still asks, praying that you come back to your senses, for both of your good.

“I want you to come in me.” You manage to blurt out before your body convulses as the orgasm hits, gummy walls squeezing his cock to a halt. Mingyu curses under his breath, putting his fingers back in your mouth before you can scream your lungs out. Soon enough, he also reaches his peak, the thick, milky white liquid filling up your pussy to the brim. 

“_____, fuck…” he whimpers, reveling in the newfound intimacy between you. You urge him to lay on top of you, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

“Gyu,” you whisper, “you mean so much to me.” Mingyu nuzzles your face adoringly, pressing butterfly kisses over your bare skin, wherever he can reach.

“And to me, you’re like the sun.” His silly words make you laugh.

“Why’s that?” 

“Because I’m like the earth orbiting around you, thriving because of your warmth and light?”

You flush at his words, beyond touched that he’d think of you in such a beautiful way. “You make me sound so insincere, Gyu.” Mingyu laughs at your pout, starting to get back up. 

“Yeah well, I still have to figure out what your flowers mean, remember?” He reaches for the packet of napkins lying nearby, sighing at the sight in front of his eyes.

“Yeah…” you trail off, “Do that once you’re home, okay?” He nods, seemingly distracted.

“I’m sorry love, I made such a mess.” 

“We.” 

“Hm?” 

“We made a mess. So don’t be sorry. I’ll help you clean up.” You offer him a smile, which he matches happily. 

Mingyu scrutinizes you one last time, making sure that you look presentable from head to toe. “Yeah, everything looks okay… except that your dress is all wrinkled…”

“I told you it’s fine, I’ll fix it up after a wash, don’t worry!” You reassure him, redoing your braid. “And please wash this outfit as soon as you get home, okay? I know it all dried up now, but still…” 

“I could say the same about your panties.” He chuckles, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Yeah, but I doubt it’ll be wearable after today.” You sigh, checking yourself on your selfie camera. “C’mon, let’s go now. It’s afternoon already!” 

Mingyu hands you your basket, holding your free hand as you slowly take a few steps. “Are you sure you can walk?” 

“Yes, positive! I have to get home somehow.” You smile through a wince, making him shake his head. 

“Let’s go to my place. You can go back tomorrow morning after you’ve recovered from the pain. I’ll cook us dinner, help you take a bath, give you meds and cuddle you to sleep.” Mingyu offers, pushing off the bushes so that you guys can finally leave your little sanctuary. 

You both step out on the nearby trail, intertwining your fingers together back again. “Why do you always make it so hard to decline, Gyu?” He gives your hand a firm squeeze, winking at you playfully. 

“It’s a part of the package, baby.” His cocky chuckle infuriates you, but lord, is he right about that. 

This man might just be the end of you. But would you really mind it?

end of act one ♡ next

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 end notes ꒱

wahhh you made it to the end!! thank you so much for reading 🥹🫶🏼; i apologize if there are any mistakes in there, this is very roughly edited jdjfhfjhjff!! BUT i really hope that this was enjoyable and i was able to portray the lovebirds well 🤭! do let me know what you thought of this, please! reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated <333! you can also send feedback through asks if you’d prefer that! 💖

until next time!

p.s: i’m pretty new to caratblr and i’d be grateful if you guys could recommend me some blogs to follow 🥺... (you can recommend your own blog as well)!

#🪄; things i’ve written #series: boyfriend chronicles 🔖 #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #kpop smut #seventeen x reader #mingyu imagines #seventeen imagines #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #svt smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #this took me... a whole literal year to write #feels like i've birthed a child #i started writing this last october. not even 1k words in; i decided that this needed a prologue #in which they'd have their first night. #numerous plot changes and suffering later: WE'RE HERE!!!! #my god i want to cry

[bennyden]

User hamatoanne's fic plagiarism

Hello, I’m the author of The Android, an AO3 Robot OC x Reader fic that was plagiarized by hamatoanne on Tumblr in her Aemond x Reader story, System Error. You can read my AO3 post for more info about the issue. As you can tell by the timestamps on AO3 and the screenshots of her now-deleted story, mine was posted months before hers. I didn’t want to make this public, but it appears Anne has not learned her lesson and is grasping at straws to keep her readers in the dark. She’s been deleting her stories to hide evidence of her plagiarism. I think you deserve to know who your beloved writer gets her words from.

I don’t know this fandom, but I’ve heard you guys can get pretty crazy. Control yourselves. The only one who needs to take responsibility is Anne. Don’t send hate to her mutuals. Don’t send hate to her followers. Don’t stalk or harass or dox anyone. Read through this post and form your opinion.

First bunch of screenshots: A side-by-side comparison of her story (now deleted) and mine (still up and linked above). I took screenshots in advance in case something like this happened so I’d have proof if I needed it. I decided to compare the first chapter of my fic with the first part of hers. I could do the whole thing, but I’m a busy college student and I think just a quick skim of the pictures below is enough for people to see the extent of her plagiarism. 

I have screenshots of her entire post, but I don’t want to make this too long to scroll through and Tumblr posts cap at 30 pictures. I’m assuming some of you have already read her story multiple times, so you’re familiar with the words. If you haven’t, then I should warn you that the fic that she plagiarized is very not SFW. I’ll let you know where the not SFW content starts so you can skip it. 

On the left is my story. On the right is what Anne posted (and took down).

Not SFW content starts here. 

Not SFW content over.

Finally, I DM’ed her. This was just before I posted to The Android on AO3 about the situation. To summarize, I wrote about how I would go about the situation and how hurt I was about a bigger creator stealing from me. I admit, I was too kind and too much of a pushover. I just wanted things to go quietly. She later replied with this and deleted her fic immediately. 

“I was completely stupid for not giving your credit” Why do they always play dumb? You copy that much and can’t even think to put my name there? You credit the artist but not the person who basically wrote your whole story? The story that gave you over 3k notes, so much more clout than any of your other stories has earned you? Total BS.

“I had every intention of giving credit where it was due…But I forgot” Right. Sure. Of course. If she felt guilty about plagiarizing, she would not be so shameless to accept praise like she did. I have examples of where she happily thanked people for complimenting "her work”, but didn’t want to bring other blogs into this, especially since they were none the wiser to her plagiarism. Ironically enough, someone even gifted her a badge for being a good writer the day she replied to my DM. She tagged that post “#a breath of fresh air on a horrible day”. I wonder why her day was horrible. Whoever gifted her that badge deserves their money back.

My thoughts when approaching her DMs were:

If she wants to keep up the story? Fine, just edit the post to say that it was heavily influenced by my story and leave a link to the original. I don’t mind. The readers will see that, click my story, compare the two, and think, “Hey, that’s not just inspiration! She plagiarized!” and her downfall would start from there without me having to do anything.

If she ignored me and didn’t fulfill that request, i would take matters into my own hands and expose her on her own post. Even more damaging.

In the end, she chose to delete the post entirely, getting rid of the evidence and her clout. I actually didn’t expect this outcome since I thought she’d like the clout too much, but I guess she decided this route would be the least damaging to her reputation. Everything was swept under the rug for now. 

And like a fool, I said thanks and went on with my life. But I decided to keep track of her. Because while I was too cowardly to do anything, I knew there would always be someone in the crowd who would take action. And it seems like people did. 

After reading the supportive comments from readers of my fic, I started to regret how lightly I handled it. I wanted to be mature even though I wanted her entire blog to fall and her reputation taken away. But I didn’t want to be a “bad person”. I wondered if I should keep pursuing the issue. I realized that my overly-people-pleasing behavior might lead her to continue her ways. I decided to speak out because others might’ve had their works taken by her and that my silence wasn’t helping. 

Next is her post, now deleted (I wonder why), about how she’s been so sad and how she’s going to be deleting her old stories and starting over. I’m likely not the only one she’s plagiarized from if she’s deleting other stories. At the time, I only saw supportive replies and reblogs on it, but maybe she deleted it after people started calling her out? Idk.

She’s playing the victim game pretty hard. Acting as a kind underdog even though she’s the big creator who stole from a nobody like me. I know I said on my AO3 update that people shouldn’t send hate to her (and even censored her name after she deleted her story) but I guess I’m a little happy that people sought to call her out on her shit. I wish I was as brave. 

Later, a nice person (we’ll call her Bob because she asked to remain anonymous) DM’ed me directly with a kind message. After seeing this, I decided I should take action and expose all of this since Anne obviously hasn’t learned and wants to keep it all hidden. Bob confirmed that I’m not the only victim of Anne’s plagiarism either.

Bob asked that I not use screenshots of our DM’s so here is a transcription of the important parts:

“Hey! I just found out that one of your fics had been plagiarized by someone in the HOTD community. First of all, I am tremendously sorry that happened…”

(For Bob’s privacy, I won’t explain her relation to Anne. Just know that Anne has refused to message her back).

“I definitely think you should make a blog post. with side by side comparison. I am still completely gobsmacked that she pilfered your entire story word for word and changed a few things. We found evidence that she had plagiarized multiple stories. Not just yours. We found out her mermaid!aemond fic was entirely stolen as well as a few others. She has quietly deleted them and hasn't spoken on them since.”

“We surmised that she takes ‘underrated’ fics from different fandoms and changes the name and that's it. It's almost like she believed that stealing from other fandoms was going to draw less attention than stealing directly from the HOTD fandom.”

So if you noticed that one of your favorite Aemond fics is gone, now you know why.

‘But benny, she still wrote her own sentences and just changed it around to fit aemond!’

Fanfiction is transformative. You know what the source material is and who created it. You know you’re not reading a copied and pasted text with maybe some words and sentences switched around. This wasn’t fanfic. According to Google, plagiarism is defined as, “the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own.” (See what I did there? I credited Google. Is it so hard to give credit where credit is due?) She copied people's work, didn't give credit to the source material, and claimed it as her own. That's plagiarism.

I wouldn’t have had a problem if she properly credited me and linked the original story. I wouldn’t have had a problem if she didn’t blatantly copy and paste the entire text and premise. I wouldn’t even require getting permission to write a story based on my fic if she had satisfied those conditions.

She’s a 27-year-old grown-ass woman with enough free time to simp over some blond guy with an eyepatch. I’m a 21-year-old college student who only posts fics during the summer and winter because that’s when school’s on break. I’m too busy writing lab reports and essays to be an active writer online. The fact that she can disrespect smaller writers so tremendously should not be acceptable. The fact that she also deceived her devoted readers and friends about her "works" is also unacceptable.

What can you do about this? To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with this before. I want to be a good person and say, “Don’t send any hate to Anne, don’t harass her. Just unfollow her and stop supporting her.” But that obviously hasn’t taught her anything. She’ll just make a half-assed apology, maybe go on hiatus, maybe disappear, and then pop up again under another name to steal from another creator. If you have any ideas on how to deal with this, please tell us. 

She can try to block me or delete her posts, but the evidence is out and the damage is done. Anything she does to hide this mess will only make it worse for her. I’d appreciate people bringing more awareness to this issue, especially if it can reach the eyes of others she’s taken from. 

Thanks for reading.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #reader fanfiction #prince aemond #plagiarism #android x reader #robot x reader #ao3 #aemond and reader smut

[abbythewritor]

"Janitor" Fnaf Security Breach x Fem reader. *2*

Description: What happens when Y/n L/n lands a cleaning Job at the mega pizza plex? How will she handle all the Animatronics falling for her?

Warnings: Slight drama, blood, and jealousy, but other than that, none.

Rated: PG-13.

Other things:

-Bonnie and Foxie aren't dismantled, thanks to Gregory.

-Cassie and Gregory are in High School, working as security guards to keep Freddy and everyone else safe.

-I added a new Daycare attendant named Jester, who will be introduced later, and of course, the attendees got new Upgrades, thanks to Gregory.

-The OCs I will be using aren't mind, and the User names will be linked at the end of the chapter; the credits go to them :)

-Finally, no adult content will be included in this story.

Enjoy the second chapter :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wow! Good Job, newbie, we cleaned up in under 2 hours!" Dj's room was finally thoroughly cleaned, and thanks to you, your bright Idea of using some sort of Shop-vac to pick up toys, candy, and other stuff left by kids made this whole Job thing a little easier.

Cyrus, who had just finished putting the vac away, stood by as you sat on the floor, sipping a freshly opened juice box. Looking at his fazz watch, the time read 1:15pm, and a satisfied smile formed his lips. "If we keep this up, we can reach the daycare area by 5. You get the gist of things quickly, Newbie; I knew you'd get the hang of it. Plus, I think you went to the top of Mr. Dj's new friend's list." Chuckling, you sipped more of your juice. "I'm not his friend, Cryus; I just complimented his sunglasses." Cryus sat next to you, slightly nudging your shoulder. "Yeah, and everything else. I knew you didn't say anything, but I can easily see a person's body language when they're geeking out. So you're a robot fan, huh?" Your eyes rolled. "Glamrocks, actually." His eyes widened. "No way, really? Wow, is that why you took the job? Wait... you're not planning on anything weird with Freddy and the others, are you-OUCH!! Hey!! Hey!" He laughed when you hit his shoulder.

"Take your mind out of the gutter; I got this job for the money. Besides, I may be a geek, but at least I'm not like one of those Crazed fans who always kiss their posters." Cyrus nodded. "True, we had a fair of those people come here, not to Freddy, but foxy, surprisingly. Poor guy, we had to close his meet and greet early one day because an older woman came to him with his shirt off." "PFFFT" Apple juice came out of your nose as you and he began to die with laughter. Not believing him, you turned to him with surprise once you stopped coughing. "Really? You're shitting me." His head shook. "Nope, not kidding; I got the whole thing on tape if you want to see it later?" Sighing, your head shook.

"Can this place even surprise me more? First, the pizza here is actually good, Second, I meet a Gianormous spider, who's not a human-eating creature, and finally, I get told a story where Foxy almost got molested." Chuckling, Cyrus put his arms behind his back. "You'd be surprised at what happens at the daycare; Poor Sun has to deal more with the kid's actions than Jester and Moon." Your head tilted.

"Jester and Moon?"

"Oh, they are the attendants with Sun, but their moment to shine is when Nap-Time happens. Jester was meant for both morning and Day, but he takes Tag too seriously." Smirking, you leaned onto your right elbow, now fully onto the floor. "Sounds like me; I hate kids." "Same...but someone has to take care of them while the Parents are gone, the same as we have to take care of this place..." Standing up, he stretched.

"Alright, if we head to the Glamrocks dressings rooms now, we'll still be able to make it while they are still performing, which makes perfect timing for us to clean. Now, being the Geek that you are...I doubt they would be out now, but don't worry, I will give you plenty of chances to see them when that time comes." Nodding, you adjusted your hat. "No problem, not in a rush when it comes to that anyway; I know how busy they all can be. Especially Freddy." Cyrus smiled at you. "Glad you understand, Newbie; now come on. DJ! WE OUTA HERE!!"

"Right on! Thank you, Cyrus and little lady! Don't be a stranger, ok?"

Chuckling, your co-worker held a thumbs up towards the tunnel. "Will do! Say Hi to Mini Dj for us!! Come on, Y/n, let's head to the VIP area." Nodding, you followed behind as he began to walk, grabbing the mop bucket as the both of you headed that way.

In all reality, Mr. Dj's room was pretty neat, even though it was large and a lot to clean; you had fun getting to know the spider, the area, and Cyrus a little more.

This job won't be so bad if the other animatronics are excellent as Dj.

Just as long as you keep your head up and do not embarrass yourself in front of the Glammrocks, you should be fine...

Right?

..........

...........

...........

"Cyrus! What are you doing here?!" With a lot of walking, you both made it to the VIP area.

It was huge, right next to the entrances, as many different colored rooms were aligned inside a vast wall, each color representing a different Glamrock and their personalities.

Besides the rooms, you were taking in the mall itself, as the true size of it through your eyes was amazing. Multiple floors, stores, and people surrounded the structure, as familiar music from the Glamrocks played throughout the area.

Many children, adults, and teens walked passed the screen in many different directions, the camera focusing on you as you tried your best not to bump into any people, the mop bucket still being pulled by your grasp.

Not being bothered by Cyrus, he was heading over to a familiar yet older boy, who was shocked to see your Co-worker at this moment. "Gregory! My man!" Giving each other a hug, Gregory fisted his shoulder. "Look at you, man; Summer treated you well." Cyrus was shocked by his comment. "Look at me?! Look at you! You are all grown up! Just yesterday, you and Freddy were being chased by killer Vanny and the others! Just think of how it would go down now!." The boy chuckled while scratching his neck. "It was 8 years ago, Cyrus; Vanny's gone now, unable to hurt anyone again." "Thanks to you! Man, you Kicked that bunny's but! From the beginning, you knew she was involved with the Animatronics going a wall; now, none of them are shut down because of you. Look! You're even freddies personal security guard! How's that going?" Gregory slumped. "It's tiring; Freddy takes every chance of the day to see every. Single. Child. It's annoying enough that I must deal with the crying Kid's parents above it all. They say some...vulgar things..." Cyrus chuckled while his hands went to his hips. "That's Freddy for yah, and yes, sure, the parents suck, but hey, on the bright side, you get to spend more time with him, right?" Gregory shrugged. " I guess your right? But since he's always busy, I tend to hang out with Cassie more than anything. But enough about me, what about you? How's life going for you, and who is that? Is she your girlfriend?" He looked to you, who was being an airhead and was too busy looking around more, stars filling your eyes. Cringing at the sight of you, Cyrus turned to Gregory. "One, I still live with my mom; two, that is Y/n, the newbie; and three, no, she is not my girlfriend." "Huh." Gregory crossed his arms. "That's the Newbie? She doesn't look shy and timid to me-" "Yeah, Dean said that to Dj too...but she's a total geek; you should have seen her when I beat her at a race, anyway, are the gang still performing?" Gregory nodded. "The Guys are; Foxie and Chica don't perform until later tonight; they're practicing for their Duo downstairs. Do you guys need to clean their rooms right now?" Cyrus nodded. "Might as well, since we are on time; we just want to get it cleaned before they get done so fan girl over here....doesn't get too overwhelmed." They both looked to you, who was standing there like an idiot, who played with the ends of her hair and fiddled with your Tee-shirt. Gregory laughed at his statement, his hand lifting his hat up slightly. "I get that; I know Bonnie and Freddie can get a little touchy around new people, so I'll try to keep them distracted until you are done." Cryus patted his back. "Thanks, Gregory, always the hero; hey, Newbie!" Getting your attention, you looked at him as he motioned to you with his thumb. "Let's get started; follow me!" Nodding your head, you grabbed the mope bucket to follow him, walking past Gregory as he told you the plan, both of you heading to Freddie's room first.

Gregory, who just shook his head, sighed as familiar sounds of doors rang through his ears. Turning, he saw Freddy and Familiar animatronics coming toward him, which made him smile.

"Freddy!" He yelled, catching the attention of the bear, who was talking to Bonnie on his right side. "Gregory!" He replied, tail wagging as the boy ran up to him, latching himself onto the robot. "Look at Ya, boy, all dressed up and everything," Foxy spoke, referring to his uniform as the boy adjusted his hat. "Yeah, I never expected this outfit to be this fancy; it feels kinda weird." Monty glared at him. "You're making it feel weird, kid; it looks good on ya." Bonnie nodded. "I agree; besides, it's better than wearing those clothes daily, right?" Gregory huffed, his arms crossing. "At least those close were comfy." Freddy chuckled while putting a hand on his back. "Well, I'm proud of you, superstar; it's a rare opportunity for a high schooler to get this job; you should feel honored." The boy crossed his arms. "I'll feel honored when the stupid parents stop bullying me. Everyone besides him and Monty laughed, Freddy looking at him again. "Greggory, if I can ask, is there a way can we go to our rooms yet to recharge? There is a malfunction I need to check; my left eye seems to be a bit more blurry than usual." "I wish you guys could, but Cyrus has a Newbie with him; they're cleaning your rooms as they speak." Bonnie's eyes widened. "Theirs a new Janitor? Why isn't Dean here then?" Gregory shrugged. "Dunno, but Cyrus doesn't want to overwhelm her, so it's best if you guys do something else for now." Freddy nodded with a smile. "No problem, superstar, we'll think of something." Foxy did a stretch. "Yar...might as well be heading to my ship; I don't want Roxy putting her dirty paws on me, gold..." Bonnie's eyes rolled. "I told you, foxy, it's not roxy who steals it; kids sometimes swallow those things, you know?"

"Doesn't matter; my gold matters too much; I need to protect it." Watching Foxie walk away, trying his best to avoid crowds and kids, Bonnie just sighed. "Him and his Gold, I'm off to go play bowling. El-chip has bets of years of free tacos if I can get a perfect strike score; wanna join, Monty-Monty?" The gator just huffed, a pissed-off look hinting on his face as Freddy and the bunny grew concerned. He walked away from the group, probably heading to Gator Golf, as the three watched, unable to do anything else about it. Gregory sighed, looking at Freddy. "Did his guitar break again?" Freddy nodded sadly. "The instrument is not what it used to be, he got it before Vanny corrupted him and the others, and it was the only thing that could keep him calm. But now, it keeps breaking during performances, which concerns people and his fans." Gregory's brows furrowed. "Can't he just get it fixed?" Bonnie shook his head. "No, he doesn't trust anyone with it, especially when Cyrus switched to Daycare; he is the only one who can fix his guitar." "Then why not ask Cyrus to fix it himself? It's not like he'd turn Monty down, right?" Freddy sighed. "It's not that simple for Monty; he cares about Cyrus a lot, but since Cyrus switched to daycare, it made him angry enough to be a threat. When Vanny corrupted everyone, he went straight to Cyrus, doing something horrible that none of us can forget. " "Wow...and he doesn't want to hurt him again...I understand...Vanny caused him that fear, and to get rid of it must be hard." Bonnie nodded. "Yes, But I'm afraid for him..." Gregory tilted his head. "Why is that Bonnie?" sighing more, Bonnie looked to Monty, who seemed to be kneeling down to a Toddler, who touched the Gator's snout with pure love and fondness. Even the gator didn't show his genuine emotions; he tried to put on his best face for the toddler, not letting his Guitar or the past get to him. "Each day, that fear grows more and more, kids are getting ignored, he lashes out if nothing going right, and heck, even Roxy can't put him back in line. If something doesn't happen to help the poor guy."

"He'll just end up getting worse, day by day."

......................................................................................

"And finally, we are done!!!" It took a while, but the rooms of the glam rocks were finally cleaned.

Cyrus was impressed as you cleaned Montie's room by yourself, picking up every destroyed object, dirt, and even leftover presents from fans on the floor or the walls.

You ensured not to touch the robot's personal stuff, as everything in the room was essential and organized. This wasn't even a part of your payroll, but doing the extra stuff made at least your OCD ten times better.

Shocked as hell, his mouth was open wide as you stood up, whipping the sweat from your forehead. "It took a lot of elbow grease, but I think I managed to get it mostly cleaned-" "MOSTLY CLEANED?!" You squealed a bit as Cyrus's hands went everywhere. "THE WHOLE ROOM IS SPOTLESS!!!" You chuckled. "Yeah, guess I got carried away; I hope that isn't a problem, Cyrus." "Are you kidding?" You looked up at him smiling. "That isn't a problem, Y/n; it's a great skill to have, I wish I was like that when I was little, but of course, I had to be a pain in the ass." "Well, I am not like that; I get terrible OCD when things are misplaced, so cleaning Monty's room was basically therapy for me." You replied, feeling a hard slap coming from him onto your back. "I'm glad, newbie!" He chirped, throwing a towel over his left shoulder. "Monty can get pretty angry sometimes, even after the whole hacking incident; things have changed, and doing this for him makes the Gater a little bit happier each day." He then sighed.

"Though, that's all we could do; he didn't used to be like this." Your brows furrowed."What do you mean?" Cyrus was silent for a while before looking to the ground. "Before I transferred to Daycare, I was a mechanic for the Glamrocks." Your eyes widened. "Really? That's cool!" He chuckled. "Yeah, it was cool, alright, being able to hang out with the most excellent Robots in history, Freddy, Bonnie, Foxy, Chica, Roxy, Monty. Honestly, out of all six of them, I seemed more attached to Monty than everything; we were best friends. Whenever he malfunctioned, he came to me with the saddest eyes, or when Roxy or even Foxy said something wrong, we would always talk about the situation and work the stuff out."

He paused before pouting, trying his best not to cry just a little. "I fixed his damn guitar before every. Single. Show. His temper tantrum was the death of me of my time there, but somehow I always managed to fix it and make the gator happy. I miss that feeling....but when the glitches happened, and Freddy and the gang started to act weirder than usual, the company switched me over to daycare, which hadn't been touched by the virus at the time." Your eyebrows furrowed, and one of your hands was on his back as he struggled to get the following words out, his eyes looking at the guitar Monty o-so cares about. "He hated me leaving, and trust me, I didn't want to transfer either, but it was for my and other people's safety as well; Monty was like a brother to me. Sometimes when I try to talk to him now, I get an angry huff, and he walks away. It hurts, yes, but it's not his fault...I should have stayed when I should..." His hands ran through his hair, and shaky breaths and sad motions came from him, which made your heart instantly break. You don't know why he's telling you this when you only met him today, but hearing the story of his and Monty's bond is hard to ignore.

"Cryus...I-I don't know what to say..." He chuckled sadly, looking at you. "You don't have to say anything, Newbie....what's in the past is done, and now what I can try to do to lift his spirits is clean, clean, and clean....thank you for your help, Y/n, but, I think we should cut training today short." Your eyes widened with surprise. "A-Are you sure? We still have a lot to do-" Cyrus smirked. "Go home; night shift people will take care of the Daycare area tonight, just as long as you're ready to clean again tomorrow, alright?" Watching him get up, you were confused at first but understood since the Situation and tension were high right now; no, you nodded in agreement. "Alright, but at least let me finish up here; there are just some holes I need to patch up." He snorted at your stubbornness. "You don't quit, do you?" Shrugging, you smirked. "What can I say? You hired a germaphobe." Shaking his head with a smile, he rummaged through his pockets before throwing you something. "Alright, here." Catching it, you looked to see it was a pair of keys. "Monty's room will need to be locked when you are done; he rarely goes in here, so you don't have to worry about him coming in anytime soon." You nodded again. "Alright...thanks." "Just, when you're done, give the keys to Gregory; we don't want anything happening if those keys are found by kids or teens, okay, Newbie?"

Saluting to him, your face went cute. "Yes, sir!" He cringed. "Just finish up you doof." And with that, Cyrus left you in Montie's room.

Looking around and out of windows to see if no one was coming, your body turned, looking at Monty's broken yet elegant guitar.

Hearing his story replay in your head caused your heart to break while staring at it more, as your hands gently grasped the large instrument.

You play a little guitar at home, and you had a fair share of broken instruments, special ones. So hearing that story, knowing Monty's pain and anger, it's like looking in a mirror.

Everyone has bad days, but this Monty has been dealing with a lot of them for many bad days.

Yes, you are a Janitor, and Yes, you shouldn't be thinking this, and yes, it's only your first day, but if you were going to work here forever, you might as well start building a relationship with your co-workers and even the glam rocks. Feeling the guitar, every inch, string, and flaw this machine has, you knew exactly how to fix it. "Alright, Monty, you suffered enough days of anger......Now..."

"It's time to make things right."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monty's guitar :)

#fnaf sb x reader #fnaf fandom #glitch trap #security breach #vanny #william afton #fnaf 3 #fnaf sb #fnaf 2 #five nights at freddys #fnaf security breach #fnaf fanart #fnaf sun #fnaf lunar #Freddy #Foxy #Monty #Roxy #Bonnie #dj music man #Chica #sundrop #moondrop #OC #Robots #artists on tumblr #fanfiction #Gregory #freddy x reader #monty x reader

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Man-Sized

7/9 Shadowplay

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

Christmas came and went, and all she knew was that Simon wasn't working. She still didn't know where he lived – whether he had a home in Manchester or if he resided elsewhere. He could live in London for all she knew. He could live down the street, and she wouldn't have a clue about it.

She sent him pictures of her family and the Christmas tree, of the cute pajamas her parents had got her – they still got her cozy sleepwear as a gift, like she was a child. She sent her a photo of herself later with that thing on. Or most of it on, anyway. She even added a few hearts to her texts, knowing he wouldn't return them. Simon was born at a time before emojis were even invented.

She didn't know if he spent the holidays with his family. It was odd to even imagine Simon in a happy, domestic setting, sipping grog or decorating a tree. His father was dead, and he rarely talked about his brother or mother. All the details he had given her of his life were from a pre-military time.

True to his habits, he only sent a short reply on Boxing Day that said: "See you soon."

And she waited. She went back home the next day and sat in her lonely apartment watching historical dramas and eating chocolate until she felt sick, and he never came. She stayed there the day after, didn't leave the house even for the store. On the third day, she started to get anxious, on the fourth, rather angry. No one turned that extra key on the lock of her front door, and she felt like an idiot.

On New Year's Eve, she decided she would get the fuck out. She would not stay at home like a whimpering, lovesick puppy, waiting for its master to come home.

The long-distance relationship was getting on her nerves, and his occasional unavailability didn't feel exciting anymore. It was just vexing. Sometimes it felt like a paranoid exaggeration that he couldn't tell her when they would meet again. She didn't need much: just a fixed date would have sufficed. Her other life was stupidly on hold because she was always on high alert for him. This had been going on for months, and it was high time she did something else. Just for the shits and giggles. To hell with his soon.

So she went to see her friends and drank herself into an impressive stupor.

It wasn't her usual approach to dealing with anxiety and frustration and a yearning heart, and it didn't work as well as she had hoped. But at least she got out of that stupid flat and saw some people who actually had time for her. She had been invited to a party before the holidays with the knowledge that she would not attend – just like she never attended any student shenanigans and was rather curious as to why people kept inviting her.

But right now, an evening full of alcohol and uni people who had normal problems, problems she should've been thinking about too instead of her supersoldier, sounded better than binge-watching Outlander for the fifth day in a row.

And it was actually loads of fun. She decided right then and there, while having her fifth or sixth drink, that she should leave the house more often. Connect a little, get acquainted with new people who did normal shit. Even if they were a bit boring compared to a certain brooding giant who made love to her like she was a goddess.

She laughed so much that night that her stomach hurt, and a few boys from school were really after her at the party, quenching her need for validation and attention just a tiny bit. The whole crew went to see the fireworks to the city, and they all shared some bubbly in the frigid night, and even if she wanted Simon to somehow teleport himself behind her at the turn of the year, to grab her from behind and raise her in the air and whisper something naughty in her ear, the longing wasn't enough to rob all the fun from that night.

When she walked home, feeling a bit wobbly and more than a bit guilty for having flirted with not one but two guys, she reached for the pocket that held the push dagger Simon had given her. It received loving attention every time she walked to school or to the club, the excitement of doing something forbidden soon having turned to a feeling of security and a promise of prowess, all granted by Simon. It was almost like a comfort object, the way it instantly carried her thoughts to him.

Home felt dark and shabby and even more lonely after having a few good laughs with cheerful people her age, who studied the same subject and had big plans for the future. Her plans for the near future were another day alone, but this time, with a hideous hangover. That future felt so dreary that she didn't quite catch the familiar dark shoes in the hallway as she barged in and fought herself out of her heels all but suavely.

She went straight to the bathroom for a late-night shower, and the men's shower gel bottle – the one Simon had brought to her apartment because he didn't want to smell of "girl shampoo" – stared at her like a reminder of what she couldn't have. She then brushed her teeth and went to get a glass of water before crashing into bed.

Even in the dark, she could see a man sitting on her couch as she stepped into the living room that extended to an open kitchen.

She didn't panic this time. Her reaction was a simple, annoyed sigh upon seeing that he was yet again trying to gauge a reaction out of her.

"You really need to stop doing that."

She could see him tilt his head a little at her bitter tone. They had never fought, but right now, feeling emboldened by the booze, she had a feeling that an explosion was about to happen. Returning to a dark home filled with a dark man was such a contrast to the spirited, youthful gang she had spent her evening with that all the laughter left her for a moment.

How long had he even been here? It was nearly 3 AM. She had gone to the party as early as she deemed acceptable, wanting to get some fresh air and fresh vibes as soon as possible. If Simon had come to surprise her in the evening, he had had a long night.

"Where were you?"

The raspy voice was demanding, and she fought back a jolt of irritation just from hearing that dominant tone. It was just a simple question, but it felt like an interrogation.

And she wanted to scream.

Where were you?

How many times have I waited for you to bless me with your presence?

She had been away just this once, and he hadn't called, hadn't sent a text, had chosen to wait here for her to return from her all nighter, and then accused her of not being home.

"At a friend," she said.

"Which one?"

"Marc."

She heard him draw air upon hearing that she had been to some other guy's apartment.

"A new friend," he noted.

"He had a party," she explained, then tested her luck like an idiot. "It was fun. I made lots of new friends."

She turned to get that glass of water and noticed Simon had done her dishes while she was away. There were flowers in a vase on the counter, too. He had wanted to surprise her on New Year's Eve, probably hoped to spend another peaceful evening at home together.

A tiny needle pushed into her heart at the sight of the pink tulips. Simon didn't know it, but they were her favourite flowers. She wondered whether he had been to the club to see if she was there, only to come back when he noticed she wasn't up tonight. If he had sat on that couch as hours passed by, with dread sinking in from the thought that she might be out somewhere, cheating him with another guy. The needle inside her heart burst into flames.

"Where were you?" She whispered. He finally rose and walked to her, much in the same way he had done when she had been upset in this exact same spot when morning light had filled the room.

"Covering my tracks."

She already knew that "covering tracks" meant he took extra precautions before coming to see her, whether there was a real, heightened risk or not. Christmas time might be a heightened risk: those who wanted him harm would probably want to know where he spent his holidays. Who his loved ones were.

It meant that he was devoted to her, an actual sign of care and deep affection. Simon had just made sure he wouldn't set her in danger.

She could feel his warmth behind her, could smell him, and felt distress spike in her chest when he wouldn't proceed to touch her but just stood there. She turned to face him with a quivering lip and wasn't sure whether she was about to burst into tears or a manic giggle.

He was wearing a black hoodie this time, but it didn't quite manage to make him look any more youthful or boyish. But it was snug, almost cute. The size of it probably double or triple XL to accommodate those shoulders and that chest. That hoodie told her he had definitely planned to stay home, cuddling and making love while the tulips slowly opened their blossoms in that vase.

She knew he came here for her softness. He would never admit it, but he craved the softness of her bed, her couch, her body, even the food she made for him with love. He had just wanted to spend the evening filled with some color, laughter, and affection, certainly not go and watch exploding fireworks that would only remind him of war and death and darkness.

Suddenly she felt guilty about getting so worked up. She felt shame for her condition: she was still drunk, like a sailor, wearing nothing but flushed cheeks and a towel.

"Are you angry?" She searched for judgment in his eyes. He watched her sternly, didn't betray any emotion other than that of guardedness.

"Why would I be angry?" He said in a Should I be? kind of way.

"Because I'm drunk?"

She must smell of booze, of a whole pubful of drunkards. Not ladylike at all. He had heard the state in which she had barged in — she had even sung a dirty song in the shower.

She felt like a child compared to him, felt like every guy she had talked to at that party tonight was like a child compared to him. The shyness never quite left her, even if they had known each other for months now.

What if he was angry? Or disappointed?

Or worse yet, disgusted?

"You said you didn't like women who drink."

She certainly wasn't a drinker, even if this night had been a bit rowdy. But trying to explain to a man who disapproved of drinking that she wasn't an alcoholic while smelling of booze was somehow too funny in her sleepy, partied, lovelorn state.

She couldn't hold it in any longer, and a stupid little chortle pushed through her lips. This time, he raised a hand and took hold of her shoulder, as if to ensure she was okay.

"I never said that," he said gently. The brown of his eyes was blown dark, and she vaguely remembered that dilated pupils meant drugs or darkness or love.

"One of the guys wanted to walk me home," she blurted out of nowhere. The alcohol in her system had apparently decided it was quite alright to tease him a bit for taking so long. His head pulled back, a subtle indication that he didn't like what he was hearing.

"Or actually, two. It was funny when they both came to give me my coat when I was leaving."

He was silent, the feeling of being reduced to a flustered child – or a drunken moron – in his presence only increasing by the minute. Either he was genuinely astounded by her behaviour, or then she was really pushing her luck with her drunken babble.

And fuck, she would never get over his eyes. Perfectly almond-shaped and so big that supermodels would kill for them. But it wasn't the warm, dark chocolate or the eternal exhaustion of hooded lids that made them so enticing. It was the look of having walked through hellfire… and having emerged undefeated, with scars and a sardonic, knowing smile. He was like Lucifer cast out from heaven, a fallen dark angel who had been thrown to Hell, who merely shrugged at his fate and then started to rule the whole goddamn place.

She opened the towel and let it drop to the floor, then took a step and wrapped her arms around his neck. He went rigid as she pressed her body flush against him, the amber eyes roaming her face while the rest of him was stiff. It was a new situation, her meeting his solemn stare with bold teasing while making it clear that she wanted him to rut her — on that counter if need be. Or better yet, she wanted to climb onto his lap and ride him, run her nails down his chest and sink them in, perhaps to the point of drawing blood.

It was usually he who ravished her…

"I've been a bad girl," she tried to imitate a seductive voice but it turned into another giggle.

Good God… She wished someone would come and put some duct tape on her mouth.

But then a hand was placed possessively on her hip, a thumb brushed over the side of her stomach. Those eyes were now looking at her much in the same way they always did when she was dancing for him. Hungry and dark. Proud… Pleased.

He had looked at her like that for months and months now. Like he owned her. In a stupefied recognition, she realized he had looked at her that way before they had even shared a word with each other.

He moved in a sharp flash, scooped her in his arms and started to walk toward the bedroom.

"Are you gonna punish me?" She whispered without even bothering to cover the heavy anticipation in her voice. He wouldn't say anything, but when they reached her bed, she was thrown on it. Gently and with care – but it was still more of a flung than setting down.

"It's not really a punishment if I enjoy it, right?" She laughed with excitement, all the remnants of her anger dissolving into a soft buzz that gave a nice edge to the upcoming retribution. "I guess the joke's on you."

He still wouldn't budge, still wouldn't speak…

"Are you sure you're not angry?"

She rose to lean on her elbows and watched him undress with a soldierly sharpness. Under the black hoodie was a black t-shirt — of course. But only now did she notice that he was wearing grey sweatpants. Fucking sweatpants.

Why did he have to be such a kissable, huggable cuddle muffin on this night of all nights? Those sweats were so far from the glitter and glamour she had surrounded herself this evening that she felt another burning sting beneath her sternum. The ample bulge against that soft, grey cotton was visible even in the darkness.

The muscles bunched as he pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the floor. She would probably never tire of seeing those shoulders, not to talk of his divine forearms that were so different from the skinny little things she usually saw at school or even at the club she danced in. Even she had more muscle in her forearms due to pole dancing than some men – but Simon… God, he was an absolute specimen. And with that tattoo slapped on that bulky, veined muscle, she could verily fall on her knees and pray to this man.

Her earlier teasing felt stupid as hell. She wasn't interested in anyone else than him walking her home. That ship had long since sailed.

And how could anyone compare to him? Those boys she had talked to would shit themselves if they saw Simon, even without his gear. Would turn tail and run seeing him in those cozy sweats, even. She wanted to explain herself even if the cleverest thing would be to just shut up.

"Marc's just a friend from school. He was in this group project and then we started to talk about our plans for the New Year, and then I figured I should go to this party because I never go anywhere, you know, and -...mh."

His pants were off, all of them, and she could see his cock spring free, already hard, like he always was when she was lying down like this and he was about to descend upon her. The night swallowed most of him, but it wasn't enough to hide those forearms, that hungry, slightly amused glint in his eyes – or that heavy, obscenely thick erection that was jutting from between his equally massive thighs. It was veined like his forearms, surrounded by the palest, faint hair, similar to the almost invisible ones that coated his chest and back here and there. Everything in him was heavy and thick, except that pale breath of hair…

Her mouth shot full of water, and rich heat pooled between her thighs, which instinctively clamped together as if knowing that this man was too big for her, even if evidence already proved otherwise. He always told her how tight she was, but she felt like it was more the cause of his size than any asset of hers.

"I thought it would be good to connect with people because you never know, right?" Her mouth kept yapping on while her eyes were glued to his massiveness. All of it.

He crawled to the bed between her legs, which opened by themselves for him as if this man was a whole VIP pass that granted access to the exclusive area of her.

"If you wanted to know where I am, you could've just called me. You never tell me where you are or when you come back. You know, "soon" could mean anything."

She expected him to insert himself to her opening, to push in with a full-blown ego because he must already know she was wet from just seeing him, the bastard. But instead, he dove face first to her folds while sweeping her thighs over his shoulders like they weighed nothing.

"But I get it, you need to–"

A pair of hot lips surrounded by a peak stubble hit her skin, and her head fell back with a moan. Her thighs drifted even further apart as his tongue traveled up her slit, parting the swollen lips with so much love that she knew he definitely wasn't angry with her.

Oh no.

She had only managed to amuse him again.

And of course she had. Her intoxicated state and desperate attempts to make him jealous must've told him that she was a bit of a mess because of him. He wasn't petty, even if he was possessive. It was crystal clear to everyone in this room that she had just tried to distract herself, and she was featherbrained if she thought she could fool him.

"I was mad at you," she confessed with a sigh. "I still am…"

She peeked a look down. The sight of a brawny, wide man on his knees between her legs made her more heady than all the punch she had had that night. The bulk of muscle on his back made her legs look sleek and slender and weak, the coarse stubble against her delicate, swollen folds made her head spin even when she was lying on her back. The faint scent of tobacco and his musk were like incense to her; she inhaled it like it was her only way to heaven, that haze of blazing masculinity, of fire and smoke that was thoroughly him enveloping her as she fell back on the mattress.

Her hand found his hair; it was cut shorter from the sides, but the top had generous amounts to grab hold of, and she curled her fingers there while pushing her cunt against him. She was tired of pretending that it didn't feel fucking best when he gave her head.

An exceptionally hungry kiss echoed through her body, making her spine arch and her legs slide up and down his back. How could it feel like he was kissing her instead of fucking her with his mouth? She had taken Simon as a man who didn't worship women like this, but like always, she had been wrong. Even the very thought of a commanding officer of some super special tactical unit having his face buried between her legs was enough to send her to the verge of orgasm. Not to talk of seeing and feeling him actually there.

She sighed as his hands drew her against his face by the thighs, then gasped as a firm, thick tongue – thick like the rest of him – thrust inside her.

"God… yes, just like that…"

If she was pulling his hair a little too hard, he didn't mind. Or at least he didn't say or do anything about it. At first, she had thought that perhaps he tried to make her shut her mouth this way. Speak with moans and sighs instead of words. But now she felt like she was his prisoner, about to make the confession of a lifetime.

"It drives me crazy, the waiting… I'm always waiting for you." It was a miserable sob, and she was arriving at the center, the numb, veiled core of this whole conundrum.

"You drive me crazy, Simon."

He let her monologue go on. If anything, he encouraged it with his tongue, with his lips that nibbed her swollen bud and sucked.

"You're so annoying." She felt him huff a brief chuckle against her, inside her even, as she was open and dripping and hurting, wholly at his mercy. "Like, no one comes even close. And, and, I…"

The darkness made it seem that she could spill any secret in such a lightless, safe cavity where there was suddenly no time, no past and no future to make her pay for what came out of her mouth next.

"...I love you."

But the laws of cause and effect still applied to this world, and Simon stopped, breathing into her pussy like a long-distance runner.

"What?"

His first words since forever hit her folds with a husky, tentative roughness. That voice was better than any dark rum or gooey chocolate cake or even a hot tub bubbling with maple sugar bath bomb. The heated knot in her stomach coiled and twisted, her eyes were brimming with tears.

"...Nothing."

He breathed into her tender folds, she could feel his lips draw into a smile. He kissed her right at the center, at the core of her, and she jerked a little, bit her lip, and waited.

"You sure?" The gruff, murky voice still talked to her pussy, like it was there where the confession of his prisoner was to be found.

"Yes..?"

A devastatingly languid lick stroked her folds, and the starved sigh was that of a happy, happy man. He had a winning hand, and he knew it.

"Are you absolutely positive?"

She swallowed, her lips trembled, and her heart rammed against her chest as her drunkard's brain thought of the terrible fate that awaited her if she yielded to him. What if they were still playing? She hated poker, especially when she was playing against Simon who always had a royal flush in his hand. She wanted to play together, not against each other.

"For fuck's sake, why do you always have to…" she started, then bit her lip again as he plunged his tongue inside, so deep that it made her chin shoot up toward the ceiling and her hips grind against his face.

"You always have to win," she sighed strenuously, on the brink of tears.

"Love you too," he rumbled against her, and her walls clenched around nothing, more moisture leaked to coat his chin.

"Wh-...What?"

He picked up where he had left, proceeding to kiss and lick and suck like it was just some small talk they had briefly shared while he was eating her out.

"Simon…"

"Shh."

She pursed her lips from happiness and allowed him to finish the job, which didn't take long in her state of bliss and drunken overstimulation. She came with a cry, leaked love in the air – leaked literally, on his lips.

He rose to sit after he was done, panting like it had been a while since he had tortured anyone like that.

"What took you so long?" She asked when he threw himself to lie on his back next to her.

"What took you so long?" He huffed, and she wasn't sure if they were talking about their mutual absence or the late confession. She turned to press against him, thrumming with love. He shifted too and took her in his arms, and her head was shoved against the plates of muscle that made his chest. He was still hard, and she wanted to take him in her mouth, to return the favor tenfold.

"You're so annoying," she chirped with a broad smile while crushed against the world's safest chest.

"Copy that."

"I love you."

His cock twitched between them when she said those words. It was his only reaction to her repeating that long-kept secret.

"You're drunk," he commented with sleepy, honeyed amusement.

"I'm drunk, and I love you."

He sighed and pulled her into an even heavier hug. "Come 'ere."

They cuddled sometimes, mostly after sex, but it was never this ardent. She ran a hand up and down his back while the other was squeezed somewhere between them. She could hear his heartbeat, steady and powerful underneath her cheek.

"Don't send me pictures of your family," he grumbled through half-sleep. "It's an unnecessary risk."

He had rigged her phone with schizophrenic detail so that their calls and messages couldn't be traced. He had even built a sort of a Faraday's cage out of a shoebox, wired mesh, aluminum foil and whatnot, where he put his phone when he came to her place. She didn't even know all the things he did to ensure no one knew about their relationship. Safety measures weren't doubled, they were tripled with Simon.

She gathered the photos she sent of herself were a weakness for him since he never forbade her from sending them. She didn't know if they got destroyed right after, though, or what kind of a headache it was for him to get rid of all the metadata.

"Whatever you say," she murmured while pressed flush against him. His erection wouldn't die, and in her opinion it was unfair, downright sinful, to leave him in such a state after he had given her so much love. She raised her leg and swept it up the side of his thigh until it came to rest on his hip so she could rub against him.

"You need to sleep," he said, but didn't stop her. He even allowed her some space to snake a hand between them to grab him and guide the tip to her folds, still soaked from his treatment. The notion that he prioritized her rest over his own pleasure only made her more wet. He responded with a shallow, hoarse exhale as she helped his cock against her slickness, coating it with moisture.

"You love me?" She was a lovesick puppy now, and he grunted at her neediness.

"How many times do I have to say it?"

"You only said it once."

"Once is enough."

She glided along his length with slick, moist sounds filling the darkness pulsating with love.

"No it's not."

"Insatiable woman," he muttered, slightly out of breath from what she was doing to him. And as if he had only now noticed that she was handling him and not the other way around, he switched their roles and rolled partially on top of her.

"Could you just say it?" She watched him with what must've looked like the most desperate, needy stare she had ever worn. He simply seized his cock and adjusted it to her entrance.

"Pretty please?" She whispered while he pushed in, only halfway, knowing she was more than ready to take him fully. She even grabbed his ass to force him, but he refused her.

He always had to win… Always.

"I love it when you beg."

The voice was harsh, rugged, but his eyes were soft, even softer than the double bed under her.

"I love your cunt," he continued, and a moan slipped from her as he teased her with a few shallow, unhurried thrusts. "Love the sounds you make when I fuck you hard."

"Mh-..."

"...or gentle. Fuck you real slow and deep. I know you like that."

He finally went completely in, finally gave her that sweet satisfaction that came from being filled. It felt so snug, so gratifying that it could only be compared to having a piece of your favourite cake after a shitty day or taking the first sip of coffee in the morning or easing into a hot jacuzzi when you were cold.

"I love it when you say you're a bad girl when you're the swee'est girl there is."

That one ended in a short, mocking laughter. As if she was absolutely shitty at trying to deceive him in anything.

He continued to tell her everything except the thing she wanted to hear. He told her he loved her bedhead, her cooking, the look of concentration when she was curled somewhere to read a book. He told her he loved her laugh, her sharp tongue, and how adorable she was when she was mad at him. The list went on and on, it even had the time when she had slapped him, on it. She was just about to plead again, beg for it if she must, when he finally relented.

"Yeah, sweetheart… I love you," he whispered in her neck with a burnt voice, burnt from tobacco or barking commands. "Should be bloody fuckin' obvious by now."

She dug her nails into his back, not worrying about the consequences, which were only delightful. The coarse stubble chafed her neck as he kissed and sucked her skin, surely leaving marks.

She was so wet for him that she was creaming around his shaft. Big as he was, he glided inside her with no effort at all, even when she felt herself tighten around him with another upcoming release. She was going to come a second time, a rarity, even with Simon.

He pressed her against the mattress with every thrust, the feeling of being crushed between the plush, soft bed and a bruisingly hard body absolutely glorious. Feeling weightless and completely open, she came while clinging to him, knowing it would send him on another ego trip for having worked her to a climax twice already.

The sound that left her, more like a helpless wail than a satisfied moan, meant she had lost all her chips in a bet against someone who had invented the whole game. Her cries painted the darkness as she throbbed and clenched around his cock like it was the sweetest thing in the world.

"Now what did I say? Insatiable." His voice turned into a wined and dined tone when he was pleased, almost braggingly so, and she wanted to dig her nails in his back again and make him grunt instead. But that voice also caressed her, much like his hips that gently rocked her through the waves of the orgasm.

He came shortly after, through gritted teeth and a feral edge to his peak. Her neck was burning from all the love it was getting, but the last roll of his hips was almost lazy, and he collapsed on top of her, trapping her under a blazing hot chest. A palm slid along the dip and swell of her waist, caressed the side of her thigh, and pulled her leg to rest on his back while he remained buried deep inside her. He turned from a savage, heated man into an affectionate lover so quickly that she could only hang onto him as best she could.

His back had broken into a sweat, but when he eventually pulled out, he didn't roll to the side like he usually did. Instead, he shifted to lay his head on her chest, and clutched her in a sideways hug, slack against the bed and partly on her. The ragged breathing was interrupted by an uneasy swallow.

"Life was easy before you came along. Didn't have to worry about gettin' killed."

More confessions were spoken in the fading night, and she raised a hand to stroke his hair. The light had slightly changed, the wintry night was easing into a break of dawn while they were finally about to get some sleep.

"Guess I have to stay alive now."

Only Simon could make something like that sound romantic, but his tone was somber, as if he was letting an essential part of himself go when he chose life and her. She wondered if she had brought Simon back to life like he had brought her. It wasn't what they had planned for themselves, but here they were: spent and alive, meshed together at the dawn of a new year.

"You're spooking me to death as it is. I don't want to know how you would be like as an actual ghost." She tried to lighten the mood that was slipping into something darker, something she didn't wish to think about after a night like this. But Simon had chosen to make her cry.

"Would haunt you still."

She couldn't say anything from the bittersweet pain that spread through her heart. It was hard to breathe when a choked sigh clawed at her throat and tears threatened to cause a whole flood.

"Did you like the flowers I got you?"

…And just like that, he changed the subject. She blinked back tears and tightened her hold of him, so snugly settled there over her heart.

"I love tulips. Thank you," she whispered in the crown of his head.

"Hm."

He was already on the verge of slipping into sleep, like men used to after a good fuck, especially when already exhausted from work. Or from loneliness. She hugged him so tight she could feel the flare of his ribs as his breath slowly evened out. She caressed his hair, the back of his neck, stroked his back and felt him rumble softly against her.

"Not your pet..."

His last note was more of a weary sigh that turned into soft snoring as he fell asleep on her chest. She was not far behind, drifting off to sleep too while cradling him — precisely like a pet, or a child, her last thought being how oddly beautiful it was that he finally allowed her to hold him like this.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc #mw2 smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x female oc #cod fanfic #mw2 fanfic #ghost x female oc #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x original character #simon riley smut

[edensrose]

˚◞❀˳ a proper farewell

god that title sounds dramatic as fuck so let me just clear things up immediately: no, I'm not leaving tumblr, I will still be very manageable to reach and interact. what I am drifting away from is the tolkien fandom — and since this place, despite my hardships, has meant so much to me - I decided to give it a proper little farewell, to the people who made everything count. along with a little explanation for my decision while shedding light on my experience. ( I'll try to be brief )

I joined the tolkien fandom while writing for thranduil, it's here I gained my following in the fanbase and things went quite smoothly. however, upon beginning to write for mairon, then melkor and then later the ainur — I saw an increase in hate anons. something I have experienced before, natural of a multi fandom blog, but never to this degree. initially I assumed it was because I was simply growing larger as a blog, and perhaps that is the reason — but from what I noticed, I was battling with a bunch of chronically online people who simply could not handle my love for. . . "problematic characters"

I never understood it, really. I never saw other ainur blogs getting the hate I did - I guess I'll truly never know. had I done something? was my writing just not good enough? were my vibes off? over the time I've been called things like two faced, fake, a romanticiser of abuse, lazy for not filing out requests, been told I shouldn't write reader inserts, told to kms and other graphic incidents ( such as people sending death threats and actual gore to my inbox ). this branched from burner accounts to anons, and I could just never understand why me. a quick gander at the #clownon tag and you'll find some of the instances in which I've been harassed.

I genuinely thought my writing was the issue.

which demotivated me from writing for quite some time. could I have turned anon off? sure, but that would have meant that the anons I'd frequently interact with would most likely not come around anymore. it meant a decline in requests, it meant just a crippling factor to my blog in general, so I chose to ignore. but it got hard to eventually. I was bullied for liking a god with big wings just because for crying out loud.

I've tried to fake being okay. fake being strong and unwavering about the hate, but I just couldn't anymore. and that's okay.

it wasn't all tears and hardships though. I have made very good friends through the tolkien fandom, many of which I consider close. from @bluezenzennie to @kiatheinsomniac — @a-contemplation-upon-flowers , @cilil , @someoneinthestars and so so many more. it'd take me forever to tag and honestly my heart is squeezing so much listing these few down already. they made fandom fun, whether it was our silly little play fights or collabs or you name it. those of you that have spent time to tell me about your day on anon or send in the nicest of things. I haven't forgotten them, and I cherish them, but it's time for me to go

am I sad? fucking of course. a part of me found so much comfort here and in these characters. I've spent hours on end developing lore for aus or designing aesthetics for writing — just writing and pumping out content or blogs, everything and anything I could do. and while I don't regret those times - the way I've been treated in response hurts. which is why I've made this decision.

I'm growing as a person too. I'm writing a book now, I've got an oc blog to promote that book that I'm working hard on ( @valentine-cafe ) , things are looking good. does this mean I'm just gonna disappear? of course not. I plan on staying around, getting back into request writing ( for other fandoms ) and still interacting and supporting my tolkien moots and friends. will I be writing or creating content for tolkien? probably not. at least not in the foreseeable future. the characters I once loved and cherished have now been ruined for me. I've been made to feel embarrassed for loving manwe and namo to the degree that I have, and I don't see myself being able to write for ainur without thinking of all the shit I've gotten for doing so.

regardless, I'll be here still. and while I might not be your local valarfucker anymore, I hope to be your rose still 🩷 thank you so much for two and a half years, I love you all dearly

#˚◞❀˳ 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 '𝒏 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒆 ﹕ psa ��� ₊˚⊹ #actually cryinh my eyes out ahhh #tolkien

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Introducing Meiri (pronouced May-ree), my Bell Keeper's daughter OC!

I'd been thinking about creating this OC for a long time, and finally got the energy to actually conceptualize her a few months ago. Stubborn and smart, Meiri is the kind of person that at first sight makes you assume she hates you, but if you manage to stick around long enough you'll see she has a soft core, especially for her dad. Don't point it out, though. She'll deny it to her grave.

(Introduction and a bit more of lore under the cut)

I wanted to make her introduction post today because the plan was making it on her in-universe birthday date. Originally it was going to be on the 21st of September, but that one was already taken. By The Hilda The Series. I'm not gonna compete with that. Oh, and also because I'm kinda terrified about the looming announcement of season 3 and wanted to introduce her asap in case they destroy something in Meiri's lore with the new season. No idea how long we will have between the announcement and the release date (I mean, last time there was enough time to freak out about her dad, so there's hope!), but I wanted to get her origin story at least mostly posted before the new content arrived :') will I manage it? Who knows!

Anyway, most of her content will be in the form of fics (obviously), but I've been trying to draw her as well because I feel some ideas are just best executed that way. I'm still only beginning, though, so don't expect much from me 😅

Aside from the info already mentioned in this post, I'd like to add that she uses she/her pronouns, is on the autistic spectrum (I don’t know how to write neurotypicals anymore, sorry) and that there are also two other designs for her, for a 9-12 age range and a 15-17 age range, but those will (hopefully) come later on as I expand the Meiridom.

Ah, yeah, that's the tag I'll use for all the content related to this OC. Because. You know. Kingdom. Meiri. Meiridom. Anyway.

This lil gal has been living rent free in my mind as of late sooo here she is! Thank you for your attention :)

(And special thanks to waddles for hyping me up and for helping me with drawing stuff since I Do Not Know what I’m doing hdjdbdndbjs)

[(Should probably also mention that that last picture is a Canva slide. The only thing I drew there was Meiri)]

#meiridom #meiri #hilda oc #the bell keeper hilda #hilda the series oc #idk if you can tell from that second picture but the vibes are these #its a polaroid picture. the capital letters are supposed to be BK's handwriting and the D'Nealian handwriting is Meiri's adition #he's probably saying something like 'kid look at the camera for a second you only move in once we gotta register it' #and shes yelling back 'IF YOU DON'T COME AND HELP ME ILL MOVE RIGHT OUT'

[hazbin-hazwas]

Take Me or Leave Me

Rating: T

Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Vox/Original Character(s), Vox, Original Character(s), Valentino, Rosie, Alastor, Zestial, Mentioned Velvette, Mentioned Charlie, Major Original Characters, Original Characters-Centric, Confrontations, Love Triangles, Love Squares, Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Business, Rivals to Lovers, Established Relationships, Complicated Relationships, Lies, Threats

Description:

Vega (Vincent), a singer Overlord who has consistently been pestered by Vox to join the Vees, is once again approached by him with the same offer. However, there's a new pre-tense: The Vees are planning something big, and Vox doesn't want them to get caught in the crossfire. For the first time, Vega genuinely considers his offer, but someone else steps in to stir the pot:

Vera, a woman who Valentino so hatefully refers to as "Vox's bitch."

Or:

I looked at my OC, looked at @timeslugarts's OC, and went "Oooo, the girls are fighting."

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54235564

Notes: Thank you SO MUCH to @timeslugarts for letting me use Vera (and Jericho) for this, I had SUCH a blast writing these characters. Additionally, a HUGE thanks to @beansisarat7 and @starchaserbaby for beta-ing this. Reblogs are VERY much appreciated and I enjoy any feedback that you may have ^.^

The bi-monthly Overlord Meetings weren’t mandatory - far from it, actually, if Alastor’s prior disappearance and Valentino and Velvette’s consistent absences were anything to say about it. However, that didn’t mean it wasn’t in any Overlord’s interest to attend. The Vees shared information, anyway, so as long as one of them showed up things were usually fine, and Alastor was… Alastor. But Vega preferred to stay up to date on what other Overlords were doing, so she found herself sitting to the right of Rosie at an office Carmilla Carmine owned.

This meeting wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, save for some surprisingly positive updates on the Princess’s passion project. Now, they were going around the table, sharing any updates they had on their own territories or concerns they had towards others’ actions. As per usual, Vega had none either way - she doesn’t have any permanent territory and the only Overlords she had to be concerned with were the Vees and Alastor since they have (an uncomfortable) amount of control over whether her music got out into the rest of the Pride ring. Vox had nothing new to say, though, and Alastor was too busy with the Princess to focus too much on his radio show anyway.

All she wanted to do was exit this building and go back to cannibal town with Rosie for a cup of tea. These meetings were almost never enjoyable, especially when the time could be spent doing literally anything else.

Finally, just as Carmilla was about to conclude things, Vox spoke up. Vega barely bit back a curse.

“Actually, just before we leave, I wanted to let everyone know that Valentino is throwing a party later. It’s a much more quiet event than what he’s used to - Velvette and I made sure of it - so the… sexual content,” he glanced not-so-subtly at Alastor, “You all are used to will be mostly toned down. Think of it as a bonding exercise of sorts. And, of course, some more higher-class sinners will be in attendance as well, so some souls are up for grabs. I mean, who would the Vees be if we didn’t have something to offer?”

It’s silent for a moment as Overlords look at each other and consider the offer. The air isn’t tense, no, far from it, but it’s definitely not relaxed, either.

“What i’ thine catch, Vox? Surely, thou might not but summon something from these events,” Zestial asked, speaking the collective thoughts of the rest of the room.

“No catch,” Vox says, using his signature charming smile. “It’s simply an invite to relax and return to a semblance of normalcy after last month’s failed extermination.” There’s a pregnant pause, and Vega rolls her eyes while fighting back a smile. She had a soft spot for his theatrics, as annoying as they were at times. “ But! I know how secretive this group can be, and what better place to form new alliances than a formal event? Hell beat the Angels in a failed extermination, surely there are new business opportunities - and new dangers - on the rise. As I said before, who would the Vees be if we didn’t have something to offer?”

The ‘something’ dipped into his distorted tone and, for a split second - she wouldn’t have been surprised if most of the other Overlords in the room missed it - his left eye swirled.

“You don’t have to accept now. It’ll be held at Vee Tower at 8pm, tonight. Drinks and catering will be provided if any of you decide to show up.”

And with that, Vox sits down and folds his hand. It’s silent for a second again, and Vega takes the moment to look him over. His hands are folded and, on further inspection, his usual charming smile is much more akin to a smirk. He’s up to something. But then Vox makes eye contact with her and raises a brow so she looks away at Carmilla.

Carmilla clears her throat. “Alright, then. Now, if no one else has any last minute announcements,” she pauses, leaving room for someone to interject, but when no one does, she continues, “Then this meeting is adjourned. I will see you all either later tonight or in two months.”

Vega doesn’t waste time standing up and exiting the room. She feels Vox’s eyes on her as she leaves and ignores the urge to turn around and tell him off. She waits by the stairs for Rosie and Alastor to leave as well. Vox leaves last, not counting Zestial, who most likely stayed back to talk to Carmilla alone like he usually does. They make eye-contact again, though Vox is forced to look away first this time to make it to the elevator in time. She looks away just in time to see Rosie walk up to her with Alastor in tow.

“Oh, don’t tell me ya thinkin’ of takin’ the stairs down! This is a very tall building, y’know, and there are betta ways to avoid claustrophobia. You have wings for cryin’ out loud! Just open a window!” Rosie laughs, placing a hand on Vega’s shoulder. “I’m just kiddin’ with ya, I know you have a reputation on the line just like the rest of us, you gotta save the flyin’ for performin’, I’m sure. Now, are we still on for tea? Because I’m definitely not flyin’!”

Vega smiles - it’s hard not to smile with Rosie - before sighing. “Unfortunately, no. I think Vox is up to something, so I’m going to get ready for tonight to see if I can learn more.”

“Honey, when isn’t Vox up to something? Why, just ask Alasta, I’m sure he could tell you all about Vox’s shenanigans!”

“Yes, but that would require Vox’s shenanigans to be worth telling, now wouldn’t they, my dear?” Alastor jokes as well, leaning into Rosie.

Vega laughs quietly compared to their loud laughter before continuing, “True, but it’s always nice to be ahead of the game. The last thing any of us needs is to be caught off-guard because we underestimated him.”

“Oh, just come ova for tea and we’ll get ready togetha. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to any sort of party outside of Cannibal Town, it could be a’ good use to get out again. What about you Alasta, will you be joining us?”

Alastor laughs and shakes his head. “As if I’d ever set foot in Vee Tower. I’m afraid I must be off back to the Hotel, anyway. The Princess can be quite annoying if people aren’t back by the time they said they would be.”

“Ah, well, then I guess it’s just us girls tonight,” Rosie says with no disappointment - it’s not like it was hard to predict Alastor was going to say no - before hooking her arm with Vega’s and turning the group in the direction of the elevator. “Now, let’s get going. I’m parched!”

.

Vee Tower is weirdly empty, Vince notices, as he and Rosie enter. There was always someone working either in or around Vee Tower, so the fact that there’s only a few people present, each of which looked in the other direction or helped direct them to the party, felt off.

It’s a long elevator ride to the top of the building, but Rosie makes it all the much shorter with her chatter. It was like she never ran out of things to talk about. In terms of outfits, Rosie was wearing a dress with a layered, black skirt. The top layers are lace, showing off a branch pattern that Vince was sure she made herself. He would have deemed the off-the-shoulder sleeves as out of character if they hadn’t held the same embroidery as the lace and looped in front of her. There was a red, metal band that acted as a sort of belt and accentuated her high waist. It probably wasn’t considered ‘semi-formal,’ but when Vince pointed that out, she waved him off with a smile and said, “Live a little, wontcha?”

Vince went for something slightly more toned down. He’s wearing a long, blue, almost Victorian jacket with silver accents. It was backless so that his wings could breathe, meaning that he didn’t actually bother putting on a shirt. Instead, he buttoned the jacket in the middle and wore high-waisted, black trousers. His blue heeled boots and silver accents matched the jacket. He brought one of his microphones with him - the mic gloated in-between two angular prongs - although it really functioned more as a staff. When Rosie saw him grab it, she joked that between the switch in presentation and the mic, Alastor might as well have joined them.

Finally, the elevator dings and the doors open. Rosie cuts herself off, mid-sentence and steps onto the floor. Immediately, she notices the small amount of Overlords present - obviously there’s the Vees, but Zeezi and Zestial were also present, and while not technically Overlords, Odette and Carla are floating around the general vicinity of Zestial as well.

“I’m gonna go say hello to Carmine’s girls if that’s okay with you, Vincent. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been able to talk to them and just look at how much they’ve grown! Honestly, Carmilla needs to start making ‘em sleep in the drawer, y’know, get ‘em to stop growin’.”

Before Vince can respond, Rosie unlinks their arms and makes their way over. Zestial broadens his chest when he notices someone talking to them, but immediately relaxes upon realizing who it is. Carmilla must have asked Zestial to watch over them while they were here, and Vince doesn’t blame her. Who in their (non-horny) mind would willingly stay around Valentino.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you around here,” a voice says into Vince’s ear.

Vince stifles a flinch while he fans away the pink smoke emanating from behind him. 'Speak of the devil.' “I have personal business I need to attend to with the Vees,” he lies.

“Hm? And what could be of trouble now?”

Vince turns around. Valentino didn’t even bother dressing for the theme, still wearing the same stockings and pimp-jacket he usually wore. He assumes that Valentino doesn’t see him roll his eyes. “I need some dancers for a couple concerts.”

“And what do you have to offer me, instead?”

“I continue to give you business instead of finding some souls of my own.”

Vince could have been nicer about that, he supposes, but he wasn’t too keen on dealing with Val’s bullshit tonight. Val’s eyes narrow for a second before he takes another pull from his cigarette.

“How many are you looking for this time?”

“Twenty, maybe. Ten at the least.”

“Hm. Alright, then. I’ll send them by you by the end of the week. The usual spot, I presume?”

“Of course.”

Just when Vince thought that Val would leave him alone, he smirks and blows some more smoke in Vince’s face. This time, he curls his wing around to block it from reaching him.

“Y’know, I’m surprised you’re not more of a dancer yourself, ruiseñor ,” he all but purred, looking Vince up and down. “You have fantastic hips . For a man, maybe not, but for Vega -” he reaches to trail his free-hand down Vince’s side, but Vince raises his microphone to block him.

“Don't touch me,” he bites.

They glare at each other, neither moving from their positions. The smoke from his cigarette swirls around them and Vince can’t help but let the surrounding air chill.

“H-H-Heyyyy! What’s going on here?” Vox’s voice breaks the tension as he slips in next to them.

Almost instantly, Vincent relaxed. He lets Vox move his microphone away from Val, who’s arm he also moves back.

Immediately, Vince notices Vox’s change from his usual attire. The navy blue with electric pinstripes he usually donned was replaced with a sparkling turquoise. His red bowtie deepened in shade but remained nonetheless, this time with gloves to match. The top hat, of course, stayed the same. It’s simple, at least by Vox’s dorky, overdramatic standards, but it somehow works.

“Tonight is not a night for fighting,” he says, looking between the two of them. “Val, why don’t you go talk to Velvette? She said she wanted to have a word with you about your outfit.” He’s more hostile now that he’s only addressing Valentino, causing Vincent to force back a laugh.

Val crosses his arms and pouts, all the while still glaring at Vince. “Fine,” he states, taking another pull. “But be careful,” he teases, getting in Vox’s face, “You don’t want your bitch getting upset.”

Vincent tilts his head, unsure of what Val is implying as he walks away. Vox groans and mutters something indiscernible under his breath about Val before turning to Vince.

“Drinks,” he implores, gesturing towards the bar. His charming smile is back, although not as wide. Vince ponders for a second if it’s genuine.

Vincent returns the smile, ultimately unable to tell, and turns in the direction of the bar. Vox puts his arm around Vince’s back as they walk together. Vince lets him.

The bar is decently crowded, but a group of three sinners move out of the way when they see them coming. Vox leans an arm on the bar and orders two martinis. Vince mirrors him for a second before leaning his back against the bar and placing his microphone between them.

“It’s been a while since Vincent has made an appearance. It’s only been Vega for at least a year, now,” Vox jokes

It’s a shallow attempt at breaking the ice, but Vince chooses to humor him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Vox at an Overlord meeting. It’s been Velvette for at least six months now.”

Vox laughs. Vince is unable to tell where it’s coming from. “Yeah, well, what can I say? VoxTek has been busy with the Extermination having been moved up and all that jazz.”

“So have I.”

The bartender comes back with their drinks. Vox immediately takes a sip of his, but Vincent only pulls him closer.

“How so?”

“TV and porn aren’t people’s only source of entertainment. People also enjoy listening to music and going to concerts. I spent all of the six months leading up to Extermination Day touring the city.”

Vince was surprised Vox didn’t know - half of his dancers on that tour were Valentino’s and at least a fourth of the outfits he had worn were from Velvette’sSex on the Beach collection. Still, Vox looks as though this was his first time hearing about it. He hums in acknowledgement and looks away from him. Vince, content with the silence - their conversations are never good for long, anyway - looks down at his martini and contemplates actually drinking it.

“Do you ever dream of touring the other circles?”

Vincent’s head snaps up to look at Vox, again, who is still looking away from him. He looks distant. “Pardon?”

“The other circles. Greed, Envy, Lust, Wrath, Sloth, Gluttony, do you ever dream of touring them? Seeing what they have to offer? Expanding your reach, your power, your career?”

Finally, when Vox finishes speaking, he looks back at Vincent. For a second, Vince forgets what he came here for. There is something undoubtedly genuine in Vox’s eyes and it actually scares him. Everything about Vox, all of the way down to his name, is fake. So why is he being real ? Vincent looks away first, this time.

“Doesn’t matter. Sinners can’t leave Pride,” he responds. Hell was Hell, after all; even dreams have their limits and contorts into nightmares eventually.

Vox hums again before putting a hand on Vince’s shoulder. Vince almost doesn’t let him.

“Do you want to?”

The reality of why he’s here hits Vince like a truck. He pulls away from Vox as he collects his thoughts. “Why did I even begin to think that you would just want to talk? You even said you wanted to form alliances,” Vincent says, more to himself than Vox.

Vox stands up straight. “Technically, we already have an alliance, this would just be making it official.”

“You provide me with dancers and clothes every once in a while and in return I let you use my songs in your commercials and movies. That isn’t an alliance, that’s polite business.”

“Just hear me out for a second,” Vox asks, voice partially digitalizing.

Vincent looks Vox over. His fake persona was back. Maybe Vince shouldn’t have reacted the way he did, then this conversation could be pleasant and one of them might actually have a chance at changing their minds. He narrows his eyes.

“You have 30.”

“You have a lot of inference. Specifically, you have a lot of influence in the realm of entertainment. The Vees do entertainment. Movies, social media, television, fashion, and you bring music . It works well, together. We would work well together.”

“Twenty.”

“It’s obvious that you’re powerful. You let this,” he grabs Vince’s microphone, “Inhibit your powers or use it as a crutch or something , but imagine what you could do if you fully unleashed. I want to help you with that. The Vees want to help you with that. You don’t keep many secrets, obviously you must be one dangerous opponent if your demon form has yet to see the public’s eyes.”

“Five,” Vinent counts, yanking his staff out of Vox’s hand and already turning around.

“I want you with us.”

Vince freezes.

That’s… New.

“You are everywhere . If it’s not Angel Dust or that damn hotel on a billboard, it’s you. And I don’t know when that stopped being annoying, but it did. I want it to stay that way. The Vees have a plan. Valentino may not like you and Velvette may not really talk to you, but I want you to be a part of it. Don’t make me hurt you, Vincent - Hell needs more Angels like you.”

Vincent turns around, mouth agape. Suddenly, if feels as though the rest of the party - the rest of Hell - doesn’t exist, He got what he came here for: a confirmation that the Vees were up to something and even an, albeit loose, idea of what that plan entailed. By all means, he should be leaving. There should be absolutely nothing stopping him from leaving. Yet, he’s stuck to his spot, frozen in time.

Vincent didn’t like Vox, or any of the Vees for that matter. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. They were rude, disrespectful, egotistical, brash, dramatic, know-it-alls who, unlike most Overlords, directly profited off of sinners’ suffering. It’s not like he could say too much - he was in Hell for a reason and was close friends with Rosie, the Overlord of Cannibal Town - but he was known as ‘The Angelic Demon’ for a reason. He had to have some standards, and the Vees didn’t live up to a single one.

But, just as Vox said it had for him, somewhere along the line it changed. At least, in terms of Vox. There was a fondness in the fights and comfortability in the competition that transpired between them. Their back-and-forth between Vox2Night and live performances had become his favorite part of performing. Vox was the only reason he even downloaded social media - so that their silly feud could continue on their off-hours. Every time he visited Vee Tower on behalf of business with Valentino or Velvette, they found a way to talk, alone for a little bit before things eventually turned sour and they stopped interacting for a while, only to rinse and repeat once one of them did something overly petty. It was a nice routine that was built on definitely not hate, Vince realizes now, and obviously Vox had to have felt the same way.

Because now they were here.

Vox looks genuine again and Vince loses the ability to form words. It’s scary how open and vulnerable he’s being when there’s still so many people around. If Vince didn't know any better, he’d assume Vox was begging him to accept the offer. Vince almost accepts it.

“Is there something wrong here, darling?”

The illusion of solitude shatters as a woman - a sinner, Vince concludes since he doesn’t recognize her - with blue hair, a sleek, black dress, and fire around her neck walks up to Vox. Recognition and fondness flashes in his eyes for a second before he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer.

“Just talking with Vincent about joining us, again. We could always use someone with such a strong hold on the music industry on our side,” he responds, and Vincent can’t tell whether it was a complete lie or not. More importantly, if it wasn’t, whether he had fallen for something that was never even there.

“It doesn’t seem like he’s very keen on the idea,” she glares, and Vincent takes the hint.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it, Vox. I appreciate the offer.”

Vox’s expression shifts to that of shock for a second before his usual facade slips back on. “You know where to find me when you make up your mind.”

Vincent turns to leave and find Rosie, but not before grabbing his martini and downing it in one gulp. He wanted, no, needed to leave. After all, he had gotten what he had come here for.

.

“I don’t like the way you look at them,” Vera states, slipping off her gloves and tossing them aside.

Vox yells from the bathroom as he undoes his bowtie. “Excuse me?”

“The Angelic Demon. You look at them the way you look at me. I don’t like it,” Vera repeats, more annoyed this time. There’s no immediate response, so she scoffs to herself and sits down to take off her heels.

“I don’t look at anyone the way I look at you,” Vox reassures, exiting the bathroom. His suit jacket is hung over his arm and his gloves have disappeared as well

Vera deadpans, “Alastor.”

Vox hesitates as he opens his closet. “That’s different. He’s… unobtainable. And a bitch.”

Vera finds it in herself to laugh at that, but doesn’t loosen up for long. “They aren’t unobtainable. Bitch? Arguably. Probably. But not unobtainable.”

“And how do you know? They have never once even begun to consider any of my offers.”

He sits down on their shared bed beside her now as he unbuttons his shirt. Vera raises her brows.

“They said they’d consider it, this time. Besides, there has to be a reason why you keep offering and they keep listening.”

Vox’s eyes widen and he looks away. He doesn’t respond.

Vera scoffs again and mutters, “Exactly.”

They finish getting ready for bed in silence. The air is thick with tension, but Vera doesn’t say anything - she wasn’t going to be the one to break it. Just as she’s about to turn off the lamp on her bedside table, Vox speaks:

“I love you. You do know that, right?”

“I never said you didn’t.”

“But you said-”

“I didn’t say anything except that I don’t like how you look at them. I was letting you know; there’s no need to put words in my mouth.”

Vox frowns but doesn’t say anything else. He turns off his lamp, which signals Vera to do the same. Vera sighs as she closes her eyes.

“And I love you, too. For the record.”

.

Vera sits outside of a coffee shop, waiting for Vega to walk by. She had checked the security cameras in the area immediately surrounding Cannibal Town - where Vega had been known to frequent - and was banking on her walking down this street like she usually did on the way to whatever studio or club she was working at that day.

Vox didn’t say anything about her when they had woken up that morning, seemingly forcing himself to forget that their dispute even happened.

Vera didn’t forget.

She didn’t entirely know why she was here. She didn’t entirely know what she was going to do, either. She does know that it’s dumb to act this impulsively, but something was telling her that Vega was going to accept Vox’s offer this time and she needs to let her know her place, Overlord or not. Vera laughs bitterly at that thought. Since when was she the jealous type? And since when did she consider Vox something worth being jealous over?

One of the flames around her neck shoots off to the side, taking her away from her thoughts. It hovers on the other side of the street. A few seconds later, Vega passes it.

Vega navigates Pentagram City too carelessly for an Overlord, but Vera isn’t complaining. It made her easier to find, after all. Just as Vera is about to slip out of her seat to tail her, Vega turns to cross the street.

“Shit,” she swears and attempts to hide her face in her cup of coffee. She attempts to tell herself that it’s a coincidence, but she knows she’s been caught. Not once in any of the archived footage had Vega stopped here.

Only when the flame returns to her neck does Vera look up. Of course, Vega slides into the seat across from her. She’s smiling politely and Vera is already annoyed.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Yes.”

They lock eyes for a second. Vera’s gaze hardens, daring Vega to leave. Vega laughs and looks away.

“I’ve worked both with and against the Vees long enough to know when I’m being watched.” She pauses, waiting for Vera to say something. Vera says nothing. “I just wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

“And who am I, exactly?” Vera pushes, leaning forward. Maybe this was good. It took away some of the impulsivity but still let get done what she wanted to get done - intimidate Vega.

“Vox’s bitch,” Vega laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Valentino’s words, not mine.”

Vera scoffs. “Of fucking course he said that.”

“So you’re not Vox’s bitch then?”

Vega is smirking, arms crossed. Vera glares the best glare she can while taking another sip of her coffee. “That’s a way to word it.”

“But you’re not fond of it.”

“ No. Who the fuck would be ?”

Vega bites her tongue. “What would you like me to call you? I’m Vega, as I’m sure you-.”

“I know your name. I’m Vera.”

Vega looks Vera up and down at being cut off. She was wearing a burgundy leather jacket with  a black tank top and her hair was up in a ponytail. Vega couldn’t make out the rest of Vera’s outfit, but she was sure it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary, either. Save for the flames circling her neck, she didn’t look like much of a threat. Humming to herself, she pushes out her chair and stands up.

“Excuse me, where do you think you’re going?” Vera asks, standing up as well.

Vega looks over her shoulder, walking away. “Leaving. You’re not who I expected to be talking to, nor are you a threat to my well-being.”

“Oh, I’m a threat. I may not be an Overlord, but a reputation means a lot to someone who is. Don’t underestimate the kind of power I have on these streets just because I’m not invited to your special meetings,” Vera growls.

Vega huffs. She doesn’t believe that Vera is bluffing - she’s seen first-hand the kind of things that can be done to someone’s power because a sinner with none gets determined - but she still doesn’t think that her bite is necessarily worse than her bark.

“There isn’t anything you can do,” she starts, looking back in front of her to cross the street again, “That the ‘Angelic Demon’ can’t do to herself by agreeing to work with the Vees.”

Vega doesn’t wait for a response before crossing the streets. And when Vera yells, “Leave him alone!,” she doesn’t dignify her with one, either.

Vera watches as Vega crosses the street and turns back the way she came. Once she’s out of sight, Vera leaves the cafe as well and starts to make her way back to Vee Tower. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Vox, even if he is a concern, it’s that she doesn’t trust Vega. Whatever her reputation may be, when it comes down to it, she’s a sinner. And while Vera is 100% sure she can handle whatever Vega throws her way, that doesn’t mean she wants to have to catch it.

.

“I don’t get your point!” Vox yells, slamming his fist against his desk. He turns around and throws his arms out. “Vega joining us helps us. All of us.”

“Oh really?” Vera yells back, running her hands through her hair. Her flames are scattered around the room, floating in place. “Because the speech you were giving her at the party sure didn’t seem like it was to benefit all of us!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, we’ve been together how long and you don’t know I’m good at manipulation? And obviously I have her falling for it if you did!”

It’s been like this since Vera got home. Velvette was here, originally, but she left once they started raising their voices. Valentino called to ask Vox about something or another, but was quickly hung up on. He sent someone up to bother him but then that worker was friend almost to his second death, so now they were completely alone. They were both sure that they could be heard throughout Vee Tower, but neither was exactly keen on quieting down, either.

“Shut the fuck up, Vox, you and I both now that that wasn’t manipulation,” Vera sasses, crossing her arms. “Because if that was manipulation, then everything us has been as well.”

“That means it was good manipulation, Vera!!”

“You think you’re so slick, you know that?” Vera says, walking up to Vox. “You can admit whatever you want to yourself and you can deny whatever you want to yourself, but everyone around you can see right through your screen. You love her, or at the very least are interest-.”

“Oh my Satan, you are such a fucking HYPOCRITE!” Vox interrupts, voice glitching. He grabs the hand that Vera is pointing at his chest to stop her before dropping it and continuing, “You don’t get to stand here and yell at me about how you think I’m going to fucking cheat on you with that prude when you have Jericho in your fucking life. If you think I don’t see the way you two look at each other, the way you two touch each other, then you must think I’m the stupid one and fucking newsflash, I’m not.”

Vera backs up. “Me and Jericho aren’t-”

“Anything that you’re going to say, I’m going to call bullshit on because, first of all, it’s bullshit, and second of all, I’ve definitely said the same things about Vega. You don’t trust me? That’s fine, but then you’ve lost the trust I have for you. Which is insane , by the way, because you know how few people I trust. I fucking love you, Vera, so much that it scares me, but what goes for you in this relationship I am trying to have for you goes for me, too, so if you get to have your side-piece, then I get to have mine.”

Vox stares at Vera, waiting for her to say something, anything, but when she’s silent, he groans and starts to make his way towards the elevator.

Vera wants to say something but isn’t sure what exactly to say. Vox isn’t right. He can’t be. But maybe he’s not wrong, either? She hasn’t thought about what she and Jericho were to each other, so it’s not impossible to say that maybe there was… Something there that they hadn’t put a proper label on. But for Vox to bring it up now was fucking absurd , right? Jericho was one of her only still-living friends, it was wrong of him to imply that he shouldn’t be a part of her life.

Before she can get her thoughts together, the elevator door shuts and Vox is out of sight.

Out of the corner of her eye, however, Vera notices him show up on one of the screens on his desk. She sits down and notices camera footage from the lobby as well - Vega was standing at the secretary’s desk. She frowns to herself and pulls herself in closer to the desk. The flames return to her, floating closer to the screen as if watching, as well.

Okay, so maybe Vera was a bit hypocritical. But if anything, she was territorial, and this bitch was not about to take was hers before she could correct what was wronged.

.

Vega leans against the front desk of Vee Tower. The day had gotten unbelievably slower since she met with Vera, having gotten back to Cannibal Town to discuss potentially, temporarily joining the Vees with Rosie. Just her luck, Alastor was also there, and was incredibly upset at the very prospect of one of his allies joining the Vees. It was a mess and a half of a conversation, with the verdict being that Rosie would continue to be friends with her, and while any agreements - not deals, never deals - she had made with Alastor will continue to be upheld, any camaraderie they had had would be no more.

So, in other words, she pissed off the Radio Demon.

First a sinner with fireballs around her neck and a romantic attachment to Vox threatens to destroy the reputation and therefore status she’s built for herself, and next, one of Hell’s most powerful Overlords is no longer on friendly terms with her.

Fucking fantastic.

Now, she was waiting for Vox to be free. Apparently something had come up last minute, and the addition of a fourth Vee was just so much less important than whatever he had going on.

Not that she was upset that she wasn’t one of Vox’s priorities.

Because she wasn’t.

Vega is brought out of her thoughts by the elevator dinging. Vox exits, looking incredibly annoyed, but freezes in his traps when he notices Vega.

“Uh, Mr. Vox, Sir? The Angelic Demon said she had important matters to discuss with you-”

“Yes, I’m aware,” he says, cutting off the secretary and dismissing him with a wave of his hand. “You’ve thought about my offer, I presume?”

“I think you’ll be happy, for once.”

Vox gestures in front of him to the entrance. “Walk with me, why don’t you?”

He wraps around her back and begins to lead her outside. Vega notices the cameras following them. Vera, she assumes. Leaning in slightly closer to Vox - if Vega had any flaws, pettiness was definitely one of them - she walks with him.

The cameras outside of Vee Tower continue to follow Vox and Vega, as well as the other cameras in the surrounding area.

“So,” Vox starts, still sounding on edge from his fight with Vera, “Has your answer changed at all, or did you not wanna say no to my face.”

He’s attempting to make humor of the situation, but there’s disappointment there. For a second, Vega feels guilty at repeatedly saying no, before remembering that she’s only saying yes this time for more information. She’s not becoming a permanent part of the Vees, so there’s no need to feel any sort of guilt.

Right?

“It has changed, actually,” Vega answers, pushing that train of thought aside. She pretends to not notice Vox freezing for a second. “I don’t have confidence that what you’re planning is going to work, but there’s always a chance. And if I’ve learned anything from this awful place, it’s that you have to do what it takes to survive. I’m in.”

Vox freezes completely now and turns to face Vega. For a second, he’s back with Vera, thinking about everything she had said. But then the second passes and he forces himself back to the moment and sticks his hand out.

“Shake on it?”

“I know better than to shake on something, down here,” Vega teases, so Vox drops his hand. She looks behind him and sees one of the security cameras from the club behind them focused on them. She smirks and holds out her arms. “How about a hug? A little bit of my style and a little bit of yours.”

Vox doesn’t hesitate before closing the distance. Vega closes her eyes for a second, feeling a sense of satisfaction that she wasn’t expecting, before opening them to continue staring at the camera.

When they pull apart, Vox rewraps his arm around Vega’s back and pulls along the sidewalk with him. “I came down here for some air, so how about you continue to walk with me and tell me what exactly it is you expect from a partnership with the Vees. I’ll message my employees to start setting up one of our vacant floors for you.”

Vega laughs before winking at the next camera she notices following them, fully aware of the double-meaning of what she’s about to say next: “Of course, what else are partners for?”

Vera stands up, knocking her chair over in the process, and rushes to one of the couches to find where she left her phone. She’s not one to make an empty threat. Pulling up her contacts, she scrolls down to the J’s and clicks on one.

“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I’m gonna need your help with something.”

She pauses, looking back at the computer screens and zoning in on Vox. He’s completely rid of the frustration and anger he was displaying earlier and his arm has now dropped to be around Vega’s waist.

Two can play at that game.

“Actually, Jericho? Make that two things.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #vox x oc #vox/oc #vox hazbin hotel #oc #original character #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin oc #hazbin hotel original character #hazbin original character #rosie hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel #post canon #love triangle #love square #confrontations #rivals to lovers #established relationship #business

[jayteacups]

Okay so this is the last I’m going to say on my opinion on this recent discourse for now (probably) but for people who don’t know what’s happening (because I certainly didn’t and thought someone was shitting on x reader as a whole instead of what actually happened): Someone on Tumblr made a post complaining about certain x reader fics, and essentially pissing on reader insert that are apparently too specific to enjoy (by this they meant readers with a personality and/or background etc.) Specifically what they said was along the lines of: if a reader insert is too specific and not relatable, it is no longer an x reader. Because apparently the moment a character differs in some way from you, you can no longer enjoy the story and it has no more merit. 🙄 Never mind the fact that it is impossible to create a reader that encompasses the entire human population. Kind of a fucking tall order if you ask me, or literally any other x reader fic writer, but they clearly didn’t, so here we are. :///

They also claimed that writing more fleshed out readers with backstories and personalities is essentially tricking people into reading canon x OC fics (personally I did not like their tone with that because canon x OC already gets a lot of shit from other parts of fandom but that might just be me) and that more ambiguous/vague (aka personality-less blobs) readers are more popular and therefore implying they are inherently better. Nothing wrong with those who read and write these types of reader characters, but to imply that it is better is just… wrong lol. That person also pointed out that these types of readers are more present in short form content, which imo is the actual reason these posts do better on Tumblr because this app just favours shorter form stand-alone works. They completely ignore that AO3 has a lot more long form reader fics, many of which are very popular, and that readers in these longer stories need a personality and backstory and character arc, otherwise it’s just not going to work.

They also beg people to tag and warn their content properly (aka if the reader is POC coded or white coded, whether or not reader is fem or gender neutral etc) - which, okay, fair enough. I myself am not white so I get that particular frustration, but it’s incredibly hypocritical of them when this person misused the tags themself by obnoxiously tagging a shitload of fandoms and characters x reader tags to boost their unwarranted criticism. They clearly just wanted attention (which they certainly fucking got because they got so much backlash that they backtracked, removed the x reader tags and then edited their post a bunch of times and I don’t buy that they feel sorry because they still seem super defensive), it was never about curating their own experience, let’s be real 🙄

I also saw a point they made about fics being subject to criticism because it’s available to the public and being consumed by readers etc. etc. I’ve already talked a bunch about this and why that take is utter shit so I’m not doing it again. And then later they turn around in one of their addendums to the post and say that they don’t like entitled readers, which, ha. Yeah, okay. Sure, the entitled reader doesn’t like entitled readers. I actually laughed at that one.

Even though I myself didn’t see the post at first or witness the fallout in the first few hours, it’s still really disheartening to see really dumb discourse like this because if OP took one minute to utilise utilise the very important organ between their ears and employ something called ‘empathy’ to see from a writers perspective, we wouldn’t be here. But again, they didn’t, and so here we are.

#tw discourse #jayteacups rambles

[not-poignant]

What made you decide to host original fiction on AO3? You're the first (favorite) author doing serial original fic online that I think of these days, though I've not dabbled since independent domains were the most common strategy. I'm hoping to make progress on a project of my own in the soon, but am having trouble finding sites without fairly restrictive content policies--are there/were there other contenders for hosting Fae Tales that would have let you go so dark, or is it AO3 or bust?

Hi anon!

I think from your tone, you're starting off with the assumption that I was trying to be a professional writer and then chose AO3, and that's not the path I took at all!! No one in their right mind generally chooses AO3 if they want to make a profit off of their original writing for a lot of reasons, and a lot of fanfiction authors leave AO3 so they can make a profit off their original writing (and some do both - write fanfic under one name, and original fiction under a completely different name. My path isn't even the mainstream fanfic writer's way of breaking into original fiction, lol).

So my journey was basically that:

I was writing fanfiction on AO3 that became quite popular in its small fandom, and I put two OCs (Original Characters) into that story that got especially popular and started getting fanart during the fanfic. A few people at the time said 'I ship these two' and I was like 'eh I don't want to write it.' And then in typical fandom fashion eventually I was like 'okay I'll just give it a try.'

I wrote several PWP hatefucking chapters mostly to see if they even really worked as a couple (they did!) - since they weren't a couple in the fanfic, they were mortal enemies, lol - and these chapters popped off among a very small number of people and I thought 'you know what, these characters deserve an actual story, because I don't want their tale to have a tragic ending' (which it would have done).

So I wrote more of the story, and eventually I got a message from a reader saying 'hey can you open a Patreon account so we can support your original writing, because it doesn't feel fair that we're getting all of this for free.'

So I opened a Patreon account.

And then about 3 years later I thought 'actually...I think I can turn this into a proper job.' And I...tried lol. It's not a very 'proper job' by the standards of people who started original writing purely for income, but it is quite a proper job for me, lol. I still write fanfiction because I love it.

I never chose AO3 as a place to build a career exactly, I just put original fiction there because that's where the readers were who already liked the original characters, and it didn't make sense to put it anywhere else. I also never expected at the time to make a formal leap into original fiction, I was actually planning another fanfic and then got completely derailed because we were all enjoying Fae Tales so much.

I stay there because I can post any fictional content I like pretty much - no matter how taboo - without fear of reprisal from the site or fear of having my account banned etc. for content. I stay because the warning and tagging system is the most sophisticated in the world. I stay because the search system is also the most sophisticated in the world. I stay because I love the spirit of fandom, and the people who find my original fics there already understand reading serials and WIPs and ongoing stories. I stay because I really enjoy AO3 comment culture, which is uniquely different to anything else anywhere on the internet, but especially other free serial sites like Wattpad, Royal Road, Inkitt and more. I stay because having to invite people to come to my Tumblr to see my posts and excerpts and sometimes find out about Patreon is a feature and not a bug, because it means the people who eventually find their way to my Patreon probably want to be there more than the average reader who never needs to leave AO3.

I stay there because Wattpad needs incredibly short chapters and I like longer chapter lengths (and long serials). I stay there because the comment culture of Royal Road is a lot of 'um, actually' folks alongside some decent folks, and you really have to love constant constructive (and not so constructive) criticism even on your most viral stories, and I am baby. I stay on AO3 because my friends are there, and so are many other folks who I enjoy the thoughts and company of.

To my knowledge, the only other place that allows really taboo content officially (i.e. not 'it's against the rules but everyone does it') is probably Ream, which is a subscription site like Patreon. And they're very recent. I will be setting up a mirrored version of my Patreon account there for all the folks who can't access Patreon due to like...credit card / bank reasons.

If you want to write a super dark, taboo serial, there aren't many free serial sites in the world where that's truly okay. I'm going to take some risks on Wattpad soon with the Fae Tales canon and we'll see how we go, lmao. AO3 is particularly unique because it started for many of us fanfiction writers who were getting banned and censored on other fanfiction and fandom platforms (like Livejournal Strikethrough, which was a huge historical event in fandom around censorship), so it literally - in many ways - was invented to protect and give space to the people who are writing adult or taboo fanfiction (and then later also original fiction). It is designed to be a safe haven for those of us who understand that fiction is just fiction when it comes to sexual fantasy content.

In the past year I have considered other dedicated serial sites for my content and frankly I don't believe any of them are 'safe' for me re: the nature of my writing (I don't feel my writing is as dark as some, but it certainly has 'rape as titillation' quite a bit, and pretty broad scale dubcon). Royal Road doesn't suit my genre/s, Inkitt is possible, but I'm not sure if my work will do well there, Wattpad is a risk but is huge and I'm not mad if my account gets banned there, Tapas allows some taboo, but is very clear that it wants no serials intended for the purpose of sexual gratification and requires 500-1500 chapters maximum, which is a bit of a downer for someone like me who has 3-10,000 word chapters, lol.

If you want to be a professional writer of adult sexual/taboo content who makes money off your writing, I wouldn't recommend hosting your works on AO3, I'd recommend publishing novels and when you have enough of a backlist, potentially offering chapters of future novels as early access on Ream (Patreon will actually also ban accounts with taboo content if you're hosting it on Patreon - and while most of us are safe at the moment, they get stricter over time).

AO3 is, imho, a great place for original authors who already love writing fanfiction or reading fanfiction, and already love fandom, and want to participate in the culture with original stories. Readers on AO3 are very savvy, clued-in people who are overall likely to be suspicious rather than welcoming of original fiction on AO3 in general (many refuse to read it outright), and who also can tell when a newcomer author is just there to try and make a profit off them. But they are also some of the most ride or die, wonderful, best readers in the world once they love your work. (I know this from experience as a reader too, lol, I am ride or die for a few authors there myself).

That doesn't mean it can't be done, it just means there's a steep learning curve re: fandom etiquette (thoroughly worth it, do recommend it, it just will take some time - months, not weeks - to feel it out). AO3 also strongly prefers/requires all original fiction there be posted 'in the spirit of fandom' - which has broad interpretations, but it does mean an effort needs to be made to at least understand and enjoy fandom.

But yeah if you're purely professional career focused, AO3 is not a first-line strategy imho. That's why...there's not many people doing it this way - even viral fanfiction authors don't do it this way, anon, when they decide to writing original fiction based off their fanfiction success. Use Smashwords, Ream, your own host site for direct sales etc. there are erotica and dark fantasy authors who are making WAY more money than I am using paths like this.

I love my path, I love it, and I do believe more people could use it and make it work, but I'll be honest with you - I know I could be making more money if I chose different paths, I'm on this path because it's fun.

#asks and answers #pia on writing #pia on publishing #my path is 'oh god i tripped and fell into getting paid for my writing by accident' #'oh shit actually i think i'm going to make this a job' #at no point did i ever make a smart business decision because i was always just #following the readers and what they wanted #because i was (and am) having so much fun with them #i've been making a few more *deliberate* business decisions lately #but only if they don't compromise my ethics and purpose #which means there are plenty of times i've chosen a path that doesn't give me as much money #or *any money* #which is not how most of y'all are doing this dsalkfjasdfa

[sapphire-weapon]

what are your thoughts on the horniness and thirst around leon since the remake came out? and all of the content that comes with it (reader inserts, actual animated p0rn etc)? i saw some teens complaining that it was weird and 'ruining the fandom' - but i didn't really think anything of it since, yk, fandoms are gonna fandom, it is what it is (and it's leon so, it's not surprising).

i remember you mentioning that back in 2005, it was very hard for RE fans to talk abt leon outside of his relationship to ada, so i was also wondering how the fandom dealt with general leon-induced horniness back in the day

oh, this might be my favorite ask I've gotten in a while.

/gleefully rubs hands together

First off, teenagers need to shut the fuck up about the fandom. There used to be a time when you'd go into the Resident Evil tag here on Tumblr and you'd get a bunch of weird model viewer porn of Chris banging Dante or someshit. Early RE fandom was filled with a bunch of zombie-on-Jill (and later, Claire) porn. Sometimes it was even zombie dog porn. I don't wanna hear shit about anything porn-related from some fuckin kids who don't know just how depraved this fandom has been. This fandom was built on fucked up porn.

So, in a similar vein, that Leon thirst has always been there. Always, always, always. Do you think that Leon almost overthrew Chris as the face of Resident Evil because fans just... "liked his character"? NO. IT'S BECAUSE WE WANTED TO FUCK HIM. We wanted him in every hole, in every position, and we didn't care what we had to do to get Capcom to give him to us. The only reason why Chris was never dethroned was because the gays circled the wagons around him with RE5's release.

However.

Reader fics and self-inserts are a very new and recent phenomenon in fandom spaces. Even as recently as the mid-2010s, this was something unheard of. Fandom OCs were not okay. If you had a fandom OC, or if the fandom even suspected that you were self-inserting in any way, you got publicly shamed and sometimes even exiled from fandom spaces.

But there was one big, hypocritical problem with that mindset.

If you can't already see where this is going, let me help.

This is the reason why Aeon vs Cleon got as toxic and volatile as it was, back in the day.

Oh, yes. Fans would pick which of the two women they identified with more, and that ship became their vehicle for Leon smut. So, now, it wasn't just a ship. Now, it was personal -- because fans were using Ada or Claire to self-insert in a socially acceptable way. So, if someone rejected Cleon, and you were Team Cleon, chances are, you took that as someone saying "You're not good enough for Leon. You don't deserve him." -- even if you didn't consciously realize that that's what you were doing or how you were perceiving things.

Back in the days of LiveJournal, you found so many fics of just blatant OOC shit, because it wasn't really about Claire or Ada as characters. It never really was. Ada and Claire were just a means to the end goal that was Leon's cock.

So, if nothing else, modern-day fandom is a lot more honest.

Personally? I'll never be interested in reader fics because of how taboo it was for literally my entire life -- I will always see it as cringe, and I will always question that person's grasp on the line between fiction and reality, even though I know consciously that that's not fair for me to do, and that author isn't doing anything that I wasn't thinking about at their age. But prejudices gonna prejudice.

But I'm fucking stoked that I can talk openly about Leon's cock these days, and I don't have to filter it through some fucking ship that I don't care about. I can just sit here and say to you guys -- hey. I think Leon's into edging, and he secretly wants someone to make him beg, but he's too much of a control freak to allow it, so he just makes his partner beg instead. And no one fucking gives a shit!

It's so freeing. I'm so happy.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #honestly i'd talk about leon's cock way more if y'all would just fuckin ask me about it more LMAO

[nuclearjacks]

4, 16 and 33 for the artists ask game

This is a long post so be warned kdjcjdkdjd vvv

4. A piece you wish got more love

Probably most of my content that isn’t TF related! Would love more interactions on my OC/Sona and other fandom content, especially my BG3 art right now, but I also understand as someone who’s interest based why that stuff usually doesn’t perform well djxndjdj

A lot of people follow an artist for one particular thing and when they don’t make that particular thing, people usually aren’t that interested unless you followed an artist for their style or something (is my assumption anyways djdjdjdj)

Some examples here below vvv (all of which you can find if you search my art tag: jaxsart on my profile!)

But I will say the non TF content that I think was really well received was my Spidersona <3 I got a wonderful fanart piece for her and I’m so happy people loved her design cause I was also really proud and happy with how she turned out. Still planning to make more content for her in the future! She’s pictured below here vvv

16. How do you motivate yourself to draw?

I’m honestly still figuring that one out lol

I usually only draw when I want to since I’m not an artist who relies on commissions or the like to keep myself afloat. But I’ve also been hitting an art funk as of late and while I do want to draw, it’s been really hard to draw cause of the skill I want to incorporate in my drawings now. It either takes me longer or I end up hating the process because of how long it takes or because of how hard it is. So that effects my motivation heavily because all the cons stated above is what makes me not want to draw 😅

I’m currently trying to find a balance of what makes me happy while drawing and how to make my art look good to myself again since I’ve been hating it so much. I’ve been looking into different techniques, learning more in depth lighting and shading techniques and need to do more anatomy studies as that’s getting rusty again and I’ve been getting lazy cjxndjdj

All in all, I still draw when I want to, but I think the big motivating factor is wanting to see the end product. I just want to be able to finish the WIPS I have and the visions I see in my head and get them out into the world so others can see them too. I wanna say that I finally made that thing or actually did it!! That’s probably my biggest motivating factor right now. But we’re still figuring it out 😊

33. Have you taken a lot of art classes?

I took a handful as a kid, got to play with pastels once, made clay art, learned photoshop, learned to paint, a whole bunch of stuff! My parents have always been very supportive of my art and really helped foster a lot of that so I went to plenty of classes through out my childhood and teen years.

When I was in college, the last classes I took were all for my bachelors (which I dropped out of later on cjcjdjfj). I think the most helpful one was my life drawing class though. I’m gonna do one of those stereotypical artist things where I *highly* recommend you take a life drawing class if you want to learn more about anatomy or different techniques to implement into your art. They’re so good for growing your skill massively in a short period of time. My first drawings we did for gesture drawing look horrid compared to my later studies!

Always always always take a life drawing class if you’re able!

Thank you for the asks! <3

#artist ask game #art #jaxsart

[lorogy662]

Oh hey, I should make a pinned post here, huh?

🐛 Lang (or at least, that's how I publically go by!), any pronouns

🐛 Hobby artist and writer working on, uh, at least one animated series, two video games, and one webcomic? I'll probably talk about those later on.

🐛 Generally multi-fandom/not part of any specific fandom, but also a lot of OC content!

🐛 #1 Gyro Gearloose, VTuber, and Gekidan Inu Curry enthusiast, along as proud owner of the ability to draw in multiple art styles!

🐛 I studied Japanese and can speak a little! 日本語を勉強しました、少し話します！

More info after the readmore!

General account tags!

🐛 #my art = My art. It's self-explanatory that way lol

🐛 #lang uage = Textposts, thoughts from me, asks, etc.

🐛 #the fridge = Friend art! Named "the fridge" because it's kind of like hanging my friends' art on a fridge...you know?

🐛 #the minifridge = Other art I find cool!

Fanseries tags!

🐛 #Spiderverse-662, #Earth-662 = Fanmade Spiderverse by me!

My original series tags (may/will be updated as time goes on)!

🐛 #descendants of hazel, #descendants ☆f hazel, #descendants ⭐️f hazel, #dstarfh, #⭐️ = Descendants ☆f Hazel (pronounced Descendants of Hazel for screenreaders), a soon-to-be animated magical girl anthology series about young witches facing challenges, both in their personal lives and in their lives as magical guardians called Protectors! Also has its own Toyhou.se world that's very work-in-progress.

🐛 #fantasia/potentia, #fan/po, #🪞 = Fantasia/Potentia, a future fighting game about a teenage girl (who is based off of Red Riding Hood) who dies and ends up involved in a multi-versal conflict involving the pieces of a magic mirror made by the devil (said mirror shows up in the fairy tale of the Snow Queen!) and beings of the afterlife. Like DstarfH (above), it has its own, very WIP toyhou.se world.

🐛 #crime-solver heidi, #c-sh, #csh, #🔍 = Crime-Solver Heidi, a future webcomic about a private detective with no memories of her childhood who solves crimes and uncovers a mystery regarding her past in a world of magical creatures and Lovecraftian horrors, the latter of which is something the mortals of the world are trying to prevent from breaching into mortal society.

🐛 #✉️ = A soon-to-be-properly-named point-and-click OR RPG (haven't fully figured it out yet) horror video game about a recently-recruited postal worker who gets sent to work at a post office in Antarctica, only to realize as she delves into it that something is very, very off. Takes place in the same universe as C-SH (above), 20 years after the aforementioned webcomic, actually!

My other social medias can be found on my carrd linked in the bio...or linked in here! I also have an account specifically for reblogs at @662lab!

#pinned post #pinned info #pinned #blog intro #introduction #intro post #intro #long post #lang uage

[blitzkennedyrieg]

Hi! so i realised your very very underrated, no offense..

So, as a person who gets somewhat noticed, i will give you some tips.

#Hashtags jesus Christ they are important

A hashtag is something im sure all tumblr users or just most ppl on social media are.. they help connect people with things they enjoy and like, which brings more attention to posts. I realised you dont do much or any at all Hashtag(s) and unfortunately you kinda need to. Maybe about 20-30, i know that sounds like a lot but its relatively easy to make a hashtag. Put what your post is about in many many forms of saying it, and no you cant do the same hashtag, it doesn't work. But just say it in different ways multiple times. anything can be made into a hashtag and you'll see everything you make below. Just click then 20-30 more later. You'll probably get the attention you deserve.

when answering asks i notice a lot of people just put #Asks or #Ask as the only hashtag when answering someones ask..But..That probably wont work, just hashtag a lot about what its about, or what the person asked about instead of just putting #Ask or #Example name Asked..which also wont work if you're not remotely popular

Also, when it comes to oc's you might have to realize you probably wont get much attention. people are more interested in something they already know everything about, like pennywise..sorta. Im a pennywise fan, so my work about him gets popular, because it has a fandom, or spy, he has a fandom too! So there are more people to interact with it because they know about it, more than just and oc only you might know about.

I also wanna say it takes a little bit of time, and i see you are taking a little bit of time. So, i apologize if this was like, idk forcing? I would just like to see your art get more recommended or recognised because your art is absolutely amazing dude. Keep it going man!

(also i love both the pennywise(s) and spy art<33)

hello anon! thank you for the tips and compliments i actually appreciate them a lot <3 but the reason i don't really tag my posts is because i've been on tumblr for like 2+ years i think and my days of trying to become a recognised popular artist are kinda in the past

i think i deleted all my old posts but if they were still up you'd be able to tell i was trying to get seen because i did add like a bajillion tags. there was a point where i stopped adding as many tags because i was content with the like 5 people looking at my posts

i appreciate the attention i get with the tags i do add but most of the time i just tag my stuff for blog organisation purposes. especially when it comes to my like OCs and stuff i just tag them with their story name. it's mainly just for my mutuals and friends to see and if anyone else happens to be interested while looking through my blog then that's a plus

but thank you nonetheless :^)

#answered

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - An Angel Reyes/Original Character Story.

So, besties! I’m throwing you all in at the deep end and presenting the first chapter of my rewritten story! For those who didn’t see my post yesterday, it’ll be a vampire Angel and EZ themed fic, set in a slightly dystopian world just under 100 years into the future. If that sounds like something you’re down for, well, come on in and read it! I’m going to forgo the chapter unlocking for the first couple of parts, just to ease you into the new world I’ve created (well, not really new as I wrote the original version of this over ten years ago) but as always, your feeback is hugely appreciated. I’m going to sit here chewing my nails to bits, waiting on comments, hahaha!

Oh, and just to note, you’ll notice that the timeline is slightly off in how it doesn’t line up with the period of time Mayans MC is actually set. I could have changed this, but it would have thrown a lot of the story out of whack, so I just left it as was. Suspend that disbelief, y’all! xD Also, I’ve borrowed a little vampire lore here and there, a bit from Bram Stoker, a bit from Charlaine Harris, as well as creating my own! 

So, without further ado, I’ll hand you over to Edie, our new OC. She’s very chatty...

Words - 5,960

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Edie's POV

Greetings! So, my name is Edie Bailey, I'm a twenty-eight-year-old resident of Las Vegas, Nevada and for this portion of the story at least, I shall be your narrator. So, sit back and get yourself comfortable, because I have a whole lot to explain. The year is 2101, and much has changed, while eerily remaining similar to how things were one year into the new millennium. Two large parts of the planet suffered a setback, if you will. Or more accurately, a completely catatonic disaster that wiped out an estimated two hundred million people from the face of the earth. I know, like something out of the movies, isn’t it? Humanity never thought it could happen, but, well, you know where that sort of thinking leads you to.  

What’s that about the last thing you ever think could happen, actually happening? Bingo. You’re with me now.  

We're steadily getting back on our feet again, we've only just in the last fifty years managed to construct and establish some kind of functioning civilization. A terroristic fraction, angry at the West was behind the massive and simultaneous biological warfare attack on all the major cities across Europe and the USA in 2001. There was apparently a covert operation on a massive scale, one which was ultimately behind the canisters of slow seeping gas that were secretly planted across any major public place you could think of, all with enough of the virus within to infect the hundreds and thousands of people passing through them per day. They were simultaneously detonated at the same time; July 11th, 2001 was when it started.  

Places such as airports, train stations and more importantly, areas housing people of political or royal importance - if direct clandestine access couldn't be gained to where they resided - all came under attack. Some terrorists were sleeper agents, and managed to successfully infiltrate these places of high importance and power. The queen of England was infected by one of her own ladies in waiting, a sleeper who'd been planted there over a year before, apparently.

Not that it mattered much, the exact locations the canisters were planted in, with the rate the D11X virus spread and the effect it had on people. Hospitals in every major city of the affected continents began seeing record numbers of patients admitted, all with the same symptoms. It has been recorded that they suffered what as akin to severe flu, eventually and quite quickly perishing from it, but yet hours later after being shut into the morgue, out they climbed again. People knew they had trouble on their hands when they began figuring these dead, yet alive again people had an unquenchable hunger for humans.

Oh yes, you got it. Zombies, or something like it. Whatever they are, they're the undead, and they'll eat you. We call them the reanimated. Well, not anymore since there's none left now. We have another group of undead to thank for that, said undead being the vampires who came and ate them. Okay, so not so much ate them as apparently, a vampire cannot drink the blood of the dead or they’ll die themselves (I think, at least, but don’t hold me to that as I’m not a wealth of knowledge where vampire lore is concerned) but they sure made fast work out of killing them. This had little to do with any feelings of kinship these former human, now immortal night hunters had towards us. They simply saw their life source being depleted drastically, and knew they needed to step forward out of the shadows and reveal themselves to the main part of society.

It turns out that vampires have existed literally in the shadows, within the darkest fringes of our world, seeped in myth for the most part, since time began. They did that by having secret keepers, humans who let them feed of their blood in return for protection offered by the vampire. These families were ancient and trusted, but as time moved on vampires found others, people who believed the myth to let them feed from.  

Of course, they also hunted ruthlessly and attacked other people for their life source, their precious blood without question or mercy. They are vampires, after all. Naturally, those people were dismissed as crazy, vampire fetish freaks and no one believed that they'd had an erotic or otherwise encounter with a vampire, who of course back then were just a thing of make believe. They were a horror character utilised by the likes of Bram Stoker, and nothing more. But yet after the infection of the Western population at large, they emerged, and like I say, they began to help us with the less amiable living dead. You can at least say 'no thank you' to most vampires if they ask to feed from you, and they'll respect your stance. Seriously, they're not all bad. However, a lot of them are dangerous and unhinged, and they don't like humans at all. I guess they have good reason not to.

After the virus broke, well, lawlessness abounded, with so many people wiped out. There was no one to answer to, there were suddenly no rules to obey. It was the law of the Wild West, literally. Over here, we had very few remaining police and military, and no government at all. Sleeper agents got them too, as I’m sure you can imagine. It was very much kill or be killed in some places as I gather, and learned at school... when I showed up there.  

Our world, it's really different to how it used to be according to law. That brings me round to why the vampires got pissed at humans. The new authority in place in the world as it is now is not one of jail time, community service or fines, but one of corporal punishment, and vampires are included in that with their own set of laws introduced by our new powers that be. Trying to tell a powerful, cunning and highly intelligent creature who could kill you within a blink of an eye how he or she must behave is like walking up to a lion, punching it in the face and expecting to keep your hand afterwards. It really isn't going to work well for you, and it didn't. Vampires objected greatly to it, until, that is, their own political movement came forward and negotiated with ours, agreeing to our terms in exchange for being allowed all the same other rights as humans. That was agreed, and that part of the deal is what pissed off the humans.

Yeah, everybody got pissed for a while back there!

At present, things are still a little frosty, but for the most part vampires and humans co-exist without too much incident, and if there is, well it's because some vampires are kinda crazy. Not just in the blood sucking way either. I've been told by my friend, Sasha that they're the most amazing lovers on earth, mind blowing, I believe she described the two she's had sex with as. Apparently, they fuck for hours on end. As much as the sexual longevity is appealing, I don't know. There's something about them that's very unnerving. You can feel the deadness in them, and it always makes my heart pound nervously. This happens especially when they look at me, which they often do as of course my accelerated heartbeat is audible to their bionic ears. Fear = vampire bait. Apparently, it’s quite thrilling for some of them, to feed from you when you’re terrified. Now do you understand my reservations? I’d like to think that you do.

It's like, I can pick up on this void inside them, this lifelessness that of course they have. I dunno, they're alright, but they freak me out a bit. I can't let them either, because of my job. I know I'm going to get one in my chamber sooner or later, to exact their designated punishment upon. That, folks, is exactly what I am. A punisher by trade, or punishment enforcer, the correct title is. I am someone who essentially tortures those who have committed violent crimes. Now, I think I need to just stop a second and explain this all to you. Back before the disaster, of course if you broke the law you were punished with community service, a jail sentence or the death penalty, depending on the nature and severity of your crime. Not anymore in the USA, the jail part, at least. We don't have enough criminals to fill a jail, let alone the economic resources to keep them all fed and housed.

When the country was just getting back onto its feet, most of our current authority was formed by last surviving military men, men who when the disaster first broke were the ones who began the defence against the reanimated, those who built shanty towns and the first communities to house those who weren't infected, and to look after people, make sure the kids were schooled by someone, that food and water were divided fairly and equally. It was such a different time, such a changed world, you have to understand. They fought against all the lawlessness too, the looters, those who wanted to capitalise for themselves upon the disaster, those who went wild. I remember the stories my grandfather told me as a child about the old days, the lost years of America, as they were known. It was absolute fucking carnage, to be blunt.

With no government, it was solely these military men to keep the peace, those who became the figureheads of their towns, the men everyone trusted and went to with a problem. They were the ones to decree that to end the madness, they had to mean business and so therefore chose punishments akin to the old saying of an eye for an eye. What you do, you get back suitably. You beat someone, you're beaten. You rape someone, it is made sure you will physically never rape anyone again, you rob someone and you're then forced to work off your debt doing whatever the person you robbed wants you to do, and so on. It works like that, and it's very successful. Crime is down on what it was when the disaster broke, and even what it was before then, too. Us punishers, we we're good at what we do, and I've personally been doing this for ten years now.

Before that I was just another street punk kid who wound up getting exactly what she deserved and being punished herself, but whose nerve, and also stupidity and bravery in fighting back against her punisher were noted. Apparently, I had balls to do that, to lash out when I was being given my sentenced punishment that I should have just taken without question. Eventually, I got bound at the legs too, so I couldn't do as I had been doing and swinging up on my wrist shackles to kick my punisher straight in the face. After I was released, they told me I needed a career to keep me on the straight and narrow and offered me the chance to go through training to do the job I do today.

It's not like I was some ultra-hard, tough little street fighter girl. I knew how to handle myself, I was a nomadic kid and that was about it. I got good with my fists after a neighbour of ours taught me to box and good with my feet when he also introduced me to kickboxing. He knew I was having a hard time at home, but he couldn't intervene out of fear over what'd happen to him. My parents weren't nice people, and they were racist people, too. Vic, the guy who taught me how to box, is black, so you can imagine how that would have gone down with Mr and Mrs Prejudiced. My parents never knew I hung out with him because they didn't much care about where I was. They were too busy getting caught up in their own drama. Anyway, enough about that, back to Vic, because he is one awesome man.

I'm still in touch with him, in the end he was more of a father to me than my own was before I left home. I'm not going into that, why I did. I'll leave it for later, you'll find out at some point. Anyway, Vic taught me a lot about life, certainly more than any classroom with the same teacher from four to seventeen years old (remember, the population did sink a lot so there were a lack of teachers, even though people are breeding like crazy to get it back up again, and so far so good) and as I mentioned, he also taught me the art of boxing. He made me fast on my feet and even quicker with my fists. It made up, and still makes up for the fact I missed most of school, and so don't have any qualifications. I don't consider myself as intelligent as I'd like to be, but I'm reasonably smart because I read and because I have very learned friends. People like Vic, Sasha and my fellow punishment enforcer colleague, Ahmed.

He's had one hell of a hard life, what with being from Arabic descent. That's what they call him here, the mad Arab, despite the fact he's from Michigan. He served in the military; or rather this day and age's form of it, and his main job of course apart from defence was to help eradicate the living dead problem. A lot of civilians didn't trust him, despite the accent telling them otherwise, that he was an American citizen. That's why he left and came to do this in the end, he got too pissed off at the constant stereotype that he was a terrorist, when he hated the Eastern extremists who did this to us all those years ago just as much as anyone else did. He's received the same all his life, purely because of his blood. When he was seventeen, someone stabbed him in the eye because of it, meaning he just has one now and a patch over the socket where the other used to be.

He's a formidable looking man, standing at six feet seven, and looking like he's been carved out of rock, a rough black beard that trails into a long point at his chin, and one brilliant green eye. His black hair touches his waist, and he looks a little like a long dead actor who was reasonably famous, pre-virus outbreak, called Jason Momoa. Well, like the Arabic version of him, at least. The darker skin he has with that one bright eye makes him very attractive, even though it took a while for him to see that. Before he learned how to handle himself, he got torn up pretty bad. His face is scared right down the right side where he lost his eye, and he's covered in a collection of scars all over the muscular body he now sports too. ‘I look like a fucking character from the old street fighter games, believe me, no one wants to fuck that.’ That's what he told me once, when we were sinking a few whiskies after work.

So, my reply to that was to take him back to my house, and fuck his brains out all night. Damn, he showed me one hell of a big reason why women would fall all over themselves to date him. He's hung like a beast, and fuck, that colossal cock of his made me cum so hard, I could barely close my legs afterwards. Ever since then, we've mentioned it here and there but always in a jokey way (him – ‘Edie, you can't lie to me girl, my tongue's been in your pussy’) but there's nothing there between us. We're great friends who enjoyed a great fuck once upon a time; it goes no further than that. Speaking of Ahmed…

"I'm going to get it, one day," he vouches, as we sit on the roof of Correctional Department (or CD for short) where we work. I love the way they try and make it sound civilized, what we do. To be fair though, it has one hell of a success rate as a deterrent. We see very, very few re-offenders after they've had the crap beaten out of them for their designated length of time.

"I still maintain you need a slingshot," I gesture, pointing at his hand before taking a bite of the large cheese baguette I'm holding. The building opposite, like many others, remains boarded up and desolate. Even after a hundred years, there still aren't enough people to necessitate as many facilities as there were available to the people pre-lost years. Because of the massive set back, our technology in this day and age is also one hundred years behind. We might as well be in 2001, because that's all we know before time stopped and survival took over. Apparently, after the disaster, it took fifteen years for America to regain power alone.

He picks up another brick and hurls it through the air, striking the chimney and taking a big chunk of it away. "Nah, no sling shot needed, look see I got another piece right there." Some people choose to seek sustenance on their break, and some people hurl bricks. I suppose he's doing the wreckers who will move in next week a favour, since the former hotel is about to be torn down. Needless to say, the need for hotels specifically still really isn't as big as it once was. A lot of people haven't really wanted to visit America over the last century, as you can imagine. I mean, it is getting better now, now we're actually rebuilding and life is carrying on almost like it was back in 2001, except with the differences you'll notice I've mentioned, and will keep mentioning.

"Does anyone know what'll be built there yet? There are no development signs displayed or anything, which is odd," I comment, while my friend finally tires of brick hurling and parks his bulk down next to me on the edge of the roof.

He scratches his beard, picking up his soda and taking a swig. "I think I heard Wilson say something about a big hypermarket, some Chinese company or something who brought up most of Vegas." Ahhh, yeah. That'd make sense. China saw it as a massive opportunity for them to become an exceedingly richer country by buying up a lot of land, helping us regain our currency and financial feet once more, and also having access to things too, like stores, banks, medical care and transport, you know, the very fundamentals that our people were without access to for over thirty years after the disaster. It took that long to wipe out the majority of the undead, same as in Europe. Things over there are a hell of a lot better now too, so much so that my friend Sasha and I have even spoken about visiting London or somewhere like that on vacation next year.

We're able to travel again because of the Chinese, who began to migrate over here around seventy years ago, seeing the mess that'd been left behind as a massive opportunity for them to flourish. We thank them for it, even though they've blatantly profiteered upon our misfortune, because they've helped rebuild our country into one that has begun to move forward again. We're still not as technologically advanced as they are, but it'll come to us in time. They're not about to make things that easy for us now and share their technology, are they? Profits can still be made, and until our system is strong enough to support itself, Chinese investment will continue to drive the economy.  

Of course, the disaster had massive knock-on effects all around the world. Obliterating America and Europe will do that, you'll tend to find. Because of the disaster, our world has only made limited progress. Sure, countries not affected by the disaster directly (i.e. the countries and continents who escaped the virus being released there) did continue to move along and progress more than we did, but it's still been limited. Even the East themselves suffered greatly without us, the very people that their fundamentalists wanted to infect out of existence.

When you take out Europe and America though, two places that were the pioneers and driving forces of so much (politics, the world economy, sciences, medicine, human rights, I could go on) the effects will be felt further afield. The only reason China are so ahead are because they've invested billions of dollars into the USA and reaped the financial rewards over the last couple of decades because of it. I suppose you're wondering why no other countries came to the aid of us and Europe at the time of the disaster, aren't you? They feared reprisal attacks, so that is why it was such a desolate wasteland here, and within Europe too, for so very long. China was massive enough not to be worried, and they were right not to be.  

Are you still with me, guys? I know, I know. It’s a whole lot to take in. Go make yourself a coffee, you’re doing great!  

"I can't wait until we finish, I swear. I'll come to the bar for one drink and that's it, I'm picking up some fried chicken and heading home to eat it in bed and then sleep for many, many hours. Fuck more decorating," I tell Ahmed, lighting a cigarette after finishing my food.

"So, your redecoration project is being handled with nothing less than mammoth gusto, then?" he asks, finishing his soda, flattening the can and hurling that towards the roof opposite, too. I guess he’s running low on bricks.  

"Indeed I am, big fella, I can't handle the paint fumes for longer than absolutely necessary. You know me, I don’t abide getting high." He snorts softly with laughter, reaching around me to grab my cigarettes and steal one. I swear, he never buys his own. He’s such a mooch.  

I live in a small bungalow here in Las Vegas, only four blocks away from where my large friend here lives, in fact. I decided to repaint every room, so that's the lounge, bathroom, kitchen and two bedrooms. I'm halfway done, and I started five days ago. Working the graveyard shift here at the CD between the hours of 9pm and 3am means I do have a little more in the way of spare time than most careers allow. We only work for six hours a day because the jobs we do are very physically draining, as you can no doubt guess. It is a little draining psychologically too though, but you harden yourself to it.

If you're like me and Ahmed in nature and believe that all bad people deserve painful punishments, you actually quite enjoy your job. I'm enjoying my current detainee in need of correction, very much so. He was convicted of torturing and then raping three thirteen-year-old girls, so for the last three hours I've been sticking hot pins in his genitals, which he will eventually loose. Our powers that be decreed it best to prevent a rapist from ever, ever living up to that name again. Quite plainly, if you stick your dick in a female who tells you that she doesn't want it, you lose your manhood to us in the end and pee through an implanted tube for the rest of your life. I don't do that bit, though. That part is left to a qualified doctor who will come and take him away once I'm done making sure he's been put through even more pain than he did those children. One hung herself, so I heard.

He tortured them for three days prior to raping them, and he earned himself that time back with me, which will end when my shift does. I'll be glad to see the back of him after the last three shifts I've had with him, and rest easy in my bed over a job well done. I only slept for five hours yesterday, since I got in from work at around 4am, slept until nine and then got up and painted until I had to go run some errands. I don’t sit still nearly as much as I should. Like I said to Ahmed, I'll be having one drink, getting me some chicken, eating it in bed and then going to sleep.

"Edie, time's up with him. I got Mack here to take him down to the surgical suite," Wilson, one of the guards here at the CD tells me after pounding on my chamber door a few hours later in the evening, our doctor with him.

"Would you look at that, time to lose your junk, you raping sack of shit, enjoy." I tell the beaten down waste of flesh in front of me as Wilson comes in and unties him, pushing his reluctant and scrambling form through the door. After that, I wash my hands and face in the small sink in the corner before leaving, shutting off the chamber lights and pulling the heavy door closed, just as Ahmed emerges from the chamber next door and does the same. We then head upstairs from here, up from the bowels of the building and out into the street after climbing the two flights of stairs. Ten minutes later and we're walking into our favourite all night bar.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Miss Abram?" I exclaim upon entering, seeing my closest friend Sasha turn around at the bar and beam.

"Waiting for you, is what! I had a date, it went really well but he had to leave early, so I figured I'd wait around until you inevitably showed up. Hey, Ahmed," she replies, moving to give the big man himself a hug. I like the fact they both get on. It’s nice to have that blend with my two friendship groups.  

"Sup?" he replies, winking at her before ordering me and him a drink. Sasha has some kind of crazy cocktail concoction in her hand already, and how she drinks it, I'll never know. I like my alcohol straight up, not mixed with another three different types, a handful of fruit and load of carbonated, sugary mixer. I'm fussy; literally all I drink is whiskey, coffee, water and milk. Oh, and fruit juice of a morning. Kiwi Crush wakes me up nicely while I'm waiting for my coffee to brew.

"So, tell me about the dude. Alive or dead?" I question, laughing a little when Ahmed snorts in an amused way at my side.

"Dead," she replies, folding her arms and pursing her lips. She's waiting for it.

"Such a fanger, Sasha.” Yep, he delivered exactly what we both expected, shaking his head. He teases her mercilessly about the fact she's trying out dating vampires. A fanger is the slang term for a person who likes being with vampires, basically. He earns himself a fist in the arm for that remark.

"Quiet at the back there, big fella," I warn playfully, giving his long braid a tug as he passes me my drink. "Alright, tell me about the vamp, then?" I then put to Sasha, parking myself on a bar stool and lighting a cigarette. "And why did he have to go early? The night is his daytime, and it doesn't get light for another two hours yet." I add, just as she opens her mouth to talk. I gotta work on this more, my desire to interrupt. It's a flaw of mine. I either talk too much and I interrupt, or I don't say enough. Yeah, I’m a fucking delight, aren’t I? Quick, answer now while I’m quiet!

"Because he needs two hours to travel back up to California before the sunrise, he's working up there a couple of days a week. He didn't elaborate upon what though, but that's a vampire for you. It takes time to get to know them," she informs me, reaching around me and slapping Ahmed on the arm to get his attention and offer him a cigarette.

"Cheers, babe. Hey, get your asses over here! What in the hell happened to you two?" he replies to Sasha, and then shouts to Wilson and Joe, two of our colleagues from the CD who come in looking a little worse for wear.

"Table," Joe grunts, pointing in the direction of where a group of people get up about to leave, Wilson giving me a playful punch in the arm in greeting before we amble over.  

"So, I reiterate. What in the hell happened to you and Wilson?" Ahmed asks, the eyebrow above his good eye arched highly as he takes in a battered looking Joe, who is holding an ice pack to his head.

"A fucking vampire, that's what happened to us. A psychotic vampire to put it correctly, and Edie all I gotta say is thus; I pity you, girl. You're the one who's got to deal with him.”  Oh. great. My time has come. I feel nervous enough around vampires as it is, and I’ve been quietly dreading this day, the day I receive one as a detainee. Now I learn he also happens to be psychotic. Awesome! I hope you can feel my sarcasm here. You should, because it’s dripping off of me.  

"For god’s sakes!" I groan, sinking my whiskey and shouting to Wilson to get me another. Looks like I’m staying for more than one tonight.

"What's he in for?" Ahmed asks, blowing a stream of smoke down his nose, and then wincing as we all do when Joe puts his hand to his nose and gives it a push, growling when the bone cracks and having Sasha being quick with a handful of paper napkins from the table to catch a gush of blood that exits his nostrils.

"Thanks toots, I knew it was broken. Fixed now though," he replies at first, taking the napkins from her and holding them himself, nodding gratefully when Wilson puts a beer down in front of him, swigging back a good, long glug before speaking again. "He's in for murder." Immediately, Ahmed and I share stunned expressions with one another.  

"I beg the hell out of your pardon?” I begin, perplexed. “He killed someone, and he's in the CD?” If you murder, whether you're human or vampire, then you die. End of. This has to be the murder of a human too, or the vampire authorities would have handled it themselves. The only time they don't is when it's a human involved, and then they leave it to us. We follow their guidelines on punishment though, and another vampire has to oversee the proceedings, just as another impartial human (not working for the CD, but for the government, or our version of it since we technically don't have one, we have an authority) has to when we have a human person detained.

"The technicality that the two people he murdered were trespassing on his property in order to try to capture and then drain him, oh and the fact that they shot two of his wolves. That’s what got him off on a correction rather than seeing the sunrise. Also, apparently his creator is a vampire of significance within their hierarchy, she's very ancient and wise, and she stood firm for him over what he did. I was reading the notes after we got him chained up, and she reminded them of the work in taking out the reanimated she'd personally done along with him, and another two vampires in her nest.  

“She also vouched for her word in being punished herself if he was ever to act like this again, and basically, she struck a deal for him. Apparently, creators see their offspring like children, so I suppose you can't blame her since she's technically fighting for her kid, but still, son of a bitch is crazy." Wilson explains thoroughly, flipping a beer mat in his fingers. Drainers, I've heard of those. They're people who acquire vampire blood by shady means, and then sell it on for the high black market price tag it attracts to thrill seekers. I'm unsure what it actually does to anyone who drinks it, though.

"It took six of us to get him moved from the van to the CD. Sorry, Edie. He's all chained up good now, though. We’ve got him bound in silver, so he can't move," Joe then adds, reaching out and giving my arm a squeeze when he sees the slightly daunted expression I must have upon my face. Okay, so I'm strong and I know how to give someone a damn good beating. But if this is a vampire who required six fully grown men to move him in silver graspers and shackles (that's what the police bind them in upon arrest) then what fucking chance do I stand against him if he gets loose?

"Listen, get to work at seven tomorrow and I'll go through everything with you, it'll give you time to read the protocol sheet, and if at any time while you're in there you don't feel up to doing it, well I think allowances can be made since this is your first time having a vampire detainee. We can just send the big fella in here," Wilson offers, while pointing at Ahmed. I know I have to do this, and I know they've probably specifically chosen me because I'm the only member of the eight punishment enforcers who hasn't yet had a vampire detainee, but still, I can't deny I'm a little nervous about this. I'm quite a hardened young woman, too, so that tells you everything.

Sipping his drink, he then continues. "Look, I think I can speak for the three of us when I say we all felt apprehensive before we went in with a vamp for the first time.” He looks to Joe and Ahmed, who both nod in confirmation. "But they're bound solid, they can't hurt you. Just don't get close enough for them to bite you, but if they give you enough grief, you can yank their fangs out anyway, takes a while for 'em to grow again too. You're allowed to do that. You just have to block your ears to anything they say, because they're perceptive and they pick up on things about you very easily on your body language alone, so give nothing away. You'll be fine, Edie. You've been doing this for ten years and you ain't had a vamp yet. It's about time that changed."  

On our evening, or rather early morning continues, with me leaving at somewhere around 4.30am and doing what I said I'd do. Except the takeout place has no chicken left, so instead I settle for a pizza which I then do take home to eat in bed. After finishing it and switching off the old film I was watching (which to me is a new film, since we don't have a film industry at present) I drink a few mouthfuls of water and then settle down to go to sleep.  

I'm usually out like a light in my ultra-dark bedroom (I have heavy drapes to block out the light so I can sleep during the day) after an exhausting evening at work, but this morning I feel restless and nervous. One might say I have good reason to be, too.

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[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Mentions of the death of a teenage girl, a young mother having been forced to give up her baby and stealing another baby to replace her, without that working emotionally for, her pretending not to think about her baby anymore, but actually still looking for him, her son looking for her too, mentions of a parent losing a child, loss of a mother at a young age, death of a young woman (in her mid-30s) because of cancer and a child getting lost in a mall (or more like her mother leaving without her).

•I've changed what the first person who spoke's mother was doing when she lost her at the mall. In "The goodbye room", it was drinking, while here, it was feeling sick because she had cancer.

•And yes, with some precautions, a person with cancer can go out if they are feeling well enough from what I know, even while undergoing treatment. And maybe here Jacqueline's mother (who is Maeve, just to make it clear, not an OC) wanted to keep life as normal as possible for her little girl, even though both she and Spencer (her husband) knew she was dying.

•Some of the lines are almost the same that are in a scene of the "Cold case" episode this story is inspired by. I did modify them a bit, though. I didn't just copy and paste them.

•VERY IMPORTANT THING: This chapter was really upsetting for me to write, so if you find it upsetting to read, I understand. Feel free to skip it, obviously. And I can also kind of relate to some of the things said here, so I know you all are already very kind in the comments, but be especially kind here, please.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @rynwritesreid, @justalesbianwithsomegayshit, @marril96, @c-m-stuff, @criminal-addict.

Between their two hearts

Chapter 22: A mother's love

Much to Jacqueline and Scarlett's surprise, three days later, it was Emily herself who called them asking for a meeting, and two days later, the three women met at a bar in their city.

Although she was the one who had requested that meeting, however, for several minutes, Emily said nothing.

She looked like she wanted to tell Scarlett and Jacqueline something, but she just couldn't find the words to do it.

So in the end, thinking that she knew what was in the older woman's mind, it was Jacqueline who spoke first.

"As a child, I often went to the mall with my mother" she started saying, one of her hands grabbing the locket with a picture of her mom inside it that she always wore around her neck "One day, while I was looking at the toys on the shelves, she left without me. So, I looked for a sales assistant and told her I couldn't find my mama anymore. She said my name many times over the loudspeaker, and when my mother came back, she said she hadn't realized she had left me there. After all, there were so many people that day! But I knew what had happened to her. She died less than a month later. Leukemia. I was almost 6 years old".

Not knowing what to say, even though she had known Jacqueline's mother's story for years by that time, Scarlett took her friend's hand in hers and squeezed it, getting a soft smile from Jacqueline in response.

"I'm very sorry, but I don't understand what this story has to do with me or with Jennifer" Emily replied instead.

"Well, we all know that not all women can be good mothers" Jacqueline explained "Some do their best, but the situations they end up in prevent them from succeeding".

"Is that what you think of me?" the older woman asked, clearly starting to become irritated "Are you trying to lecture me?".

Even though she was in her mid-fifties now, she still hadn't completely changed from what she was like as a teenager.

"No, of course not" Scarlett retorted, strangely unaffected by that change in Emily's mood "Both Jacqueline and I just wonder if you ever think about your son".

"I gave him up for adoption because it was what needed to be done" the woman replied in a firm tone of voice "I haven't thought of him in years".

"Oh, I understand" Jacqueline sighed "The greatest pain a parent could feel is the one that comes with losing their child. I think it's at least similar to that of a mother forced to abandon her baby".

"Well, it was easy for me to do, actually" Emily responded with a clearly fake laugh.

"Really?" Scarlett then told her "Then why didn't you want to be separated from him? To bear that enormous pain, you've always pretended you didn't care, but now we know that's not the case. You are not the tough woman you want people to believe you to be. You've never stopped looking for your son. You are registered on every single Internet site made to look for children that were given up for adoption. Look, it's all written here".

After hearing the young woman's speech, Emily suddenly burst into tears.

For a few minutes, Jacqueline and Scarlett simply let her cry, then she spoke again.

"They told us leaving them would have been easy" she simply said, still crying.

"But they were lying" Jacqueline finished for her.

"Not a single day goes by that I don't think of my sweet boy, that I don't pray to God to protect him" Emily sobbed, finally, for the first time in thirty-seven years, getting a chance to let her pain out "And no matter how hard I've tried to forget him, there is nothing stronger than a mother's love for her child. It makes little difference whether she was forced to leave them or she got sick and died when they were still little".

Scarlett and Jacqueline knew what that woman had done thirty-seven years prior, but seeing her in that state was making that conversation difficult for them too.

"We found your son a few days ago" Jacqueline managed to tell her a few seconds after Emily had finished talking.

"My son?!? Really?!?" the older woman exclaimed, looking up and finally smiling sincerely.

"Yes" Scarlett confirmed, smiling too "He's 37 years old now and he has been looking for you too".

"You were the one who took Jennifer's baby and put her in your child's crib, right?" she added a few seconds later.

"I wanted to keep her with me" Emily explained, tears filling her eyes once more "But then I realized that no one else could have ever taken my baby's place".

Then, as she herself and many other people had done those days, she started talking about one of the things she had experienced in the summer of 1968.

In that case, however, it was the very moments that had led to Jennifer's death.

[joaquinwhorres]

Anna's 4K Exchange

wow.

I can't believe that at one point of time, 4 thousand people decided they liked my content and wanted to see more of it.

I remember being floored getting 400 notes on my first Stranger Things imagine back in 2017. And now, 5 years and 3 URL changes later, and here I am with 10x that number wanting to actually stick around.

Thank you to everyone who's followed me, interacted with me, engaged with my content, chatted me, and been any part of my time on Tumblr.

for my 4k celebration, I wanted to do something a little bit different. I wanted to exchange some engagement :) sooooo here it is, the 4 Ks.

Kiss

Send me an ask telling me Which of my ships is your favorite and why? and I will spotlight my favorite ship of yours & share why it's my fave.

Kindle

Send me an ask telling me What fandom or story do you wish I wrote more for and why? and I will create a title graphic for one of your fics. 

Kidnap

Send me an ask telling me Which of my OCs is your fave & why? Do you have a fave quote of theirs? and I will spotlight my favorite OC of yours & share why it's my favore

Know

Send me an ask telling me Which of my fics is your favorite and why? Do you have a favorite scene or line? and I will give one if your fics a shout out/review & link your story for people to read. 

There's no limit to the number of asks you can send, and I'll try to get my parts turned around within a week or two of you sending the ask!

Tags in case you're interested but no pressure to participate: @hairringtonsteve @akabluekat @veetlegeuse @waterloou @zeleniafic @sgtbuckyybarnes @asirensrage @chrissymunson @decennia @bobfloydsbabe @rae-gar-targaryen @arrthurpendragon

#thank you thank you thank you #anna hits 4k #anna's 4k exchange