#its a little motivator to keep me writing

[mae-i-scribble]

Since I have so many words lying around, probably for things that will never get finished, I figured i might as well start up wip wednesdays again :D. Today being the orv edition. This is a snippet of one convo i wrote for a weird fusion of the movie Your Name with sci-fi/post apocalypse elements. This would be near the climax of it all, once secrets have come out (spoiler alert there are some time shenanigans ocuring.

This is the first bit of orv writing i ever did, even before i had finished the novel and by now i’ve decided to change how i write out names but if anyone has info on proper formatting i’d be happy to hear em.

Yoo Junghyeok thought that people wanted to fight for their lives. He’s seen them struggling tooth and nail for even the chance to survive. Some overcome it, some succumb to what they think is an inevitable end. Kim Dokja hasn’t even tried. For most people, he would just consider them fools and move on, but Kim Dokja is no fool. Begrudgingly, Yoo Junghyeok has to acknowledge that in fact, Kim Dokja is perhaps the most clever person he knows. What is all that knowledge good for if not to save his own skin? Kim Dokja has poured everything into making sure Yoo Junghyeok succeeded, and expected Yoo Junhyeok to abandon him in return? Damnable man. 

In front of him stands a door, number 3403. Yoo Junghyeok is forced to wrench it open when it doesn’t open on its own. 

“Kim Dokja!” 

“You’re so stubborn, you damned sunfish.”

Yoo Junghyeok, whirls around. He’s frozen for a second, taken aback to be looking at a near copy of the face he’s come to know over the past year as his own skin, staring at it in the mirror. This version of Kim Dokja is older than the one he inhabited, none of the baby fat on his cheeks and eyes far sharper. He’s still too thin, and that smile is as punchable as Yoo Junghyeok always thought it to be. 

The horns and wings are a surprise though. Kim Dokja hasn’t mentioned them once. The horns are somewhat unobtrusive, all black and standing up straight in the center of his head. However, the dark maroon wings stretch out wide, wingspan likely twice Kim Dokja’s height.  Not that it stops Yoo Junghyeok from silently stomping over and promptly doing what he’s wanted to do since this entire body switching dilemma began. 

He punches Kim Dokja squarely in the jaw. 

Kim Dokja has the audacity to not even look surprised, he rubs a hand along his chin, wiping away the blood with a smile. “I was hoping that you wouldn’t be able to touch me here. Pity. Hey, if you hit me once, that means I should be able to hit you back, right?” 

There are a million other things Yoo Junghyeok should be telling Kim Dokja right now, plans he should be forming to save this crafty sacrificial bastard. Instead, he finds himself saying, “Try it.” 

Kim Dokja sighs. “I value my life, thank you very much.” 

“Clearly not.” Yoo Junghyeok glares at the man. 

Kim Dokja blinks. “Ah. Right.” 

“Where is your body?” 

Kim Dokja has the audacity to chuckle. “I’m sitting right in front of you. Don’t tell me that coming here made you blind.” 

Yoo Junghyeok reaches for his sword. “Physically.” 

“Alright, alright, I don’t particularly feel like dying again.” Kim Dokja puts his hands up. “It’s around here somewhere. Couldn’t tell you where though.” 

Bullshit. Kim Dokja remembers details down to the smallest piece. He probably knows in what room his body is in currently. “Kim Dokja.” 

“You know that this future shouldn’t be changed.” 

#orv #omniscient reader #kim dokja #yoo joonghyuk #its technically a joongdok au but like this snippet isnt about them so eh?? #anyways sorry its long i just needed to include some form of context #i kinda want to make a post explaining the au bc i think its a neat idea that i'll never fully write #these posts dont usually get much engagement so im not expecting much on that end #not that i mind too much its just kinda nice to be able to throw my work out into a void #its a little motivator to keep me writing #maely writes

[whispers-of-masser]

Just Tonight (II)

✧ Nebarra x human!LDB ✧ Angst to comfort; 2k+ words ✧ Brief & very mild suggestive content, light swearing ♫ "My Blood" - Echos, "Mistake" - NF, "Stubborn" - Riell ✒ @candydreamer122, you asked to be notified when this dropped so here ya go!

Nebarra opened his eyes to the golden light of dawn, your head resting on his chest, bare legs intertwined with his. Your body pressed against his, warm and comforting, and when he glanced down at your face, he'd never seen it more peaceful. He reached up, brushing your cheek with his thumb, and even in your sleep, you leaned into his touch.

Gods, you took his breath away. But even as he lay there, admiring you in the soft morning light, a single, unpleasant thought wormed its way to the front.

He didn't deserve you.

It made him pause, something turning sour in the pit of his stomach. No... Please, no...

He didn't want the moment to end. Didn't want the thoughts he knew would turn his happiness to ash. But for years they had whispered in his mind, been his constant companions, bitter and selfish lovers that left him with nothing in return but pain and cynicism. They would not let him go so easily, relinquish the control he has given them long ago.

All the more reason he couldn't, shouldn't have you.

Because, really, what could he offer you? He had nothing but his past, his bitterness, his selfish nature. Even last night had been spurred on by his own selfish desires, exacerbated further still by drink. He was nothing but thorns, rough and crude, the blood of hundreds on his hands – and he felt no guilt over them.

...Most of them.

You didn't deserve someone like that. You could do so much better than him.

Why did you want him, at all?

And as he lay there, hand cupping your face, his eyes drinking in every curve and contour – your own slowly fluttered open.

His breath caught. Sunlight danced across your irises, and he could see himself reflected in your gaze. For a few moments, you simply blinked at him, and he could see every minute shift in your expression. Emptiness, confusion, sudden realisation – and then you smiled.

Nebarra had seen many things in life. Many ugly things, things that he'd tried to forget, that haunted him until he drowned them in drink. The few beautiful things he'd seen, though... those, he remembered clearly, and often. Fought to carve them into every facet of his memory, to allow himself the slightest hope, to give himself the smallest of reasons to keep going. And the smile you gave him...

It was the most beautiful of them all.

There was life in your smile. Vast, vibrant, and beautiful, your face haloed in the golden light of morning, you looked... divine.

And then, you spoke, words low and husky from sleep, a laugh rumbling in your throat: "And you call me guar-face." Slowly, you raised a hand, gentle fingers brushing his cheeks, smile growing ever wider.

...He wanted you. Gods, how he wanted you. His heart ached with the thorns of longing, with the knowledge that he couldn't, shouldn't have you.

So, he turned away, pulled back from your touch. Forced an empty expression on his face, in his eyes. Grunted a simple, "Morning." And carefully, oh so carefully, pushed you off him.

"...Nebarra?"

Unwelcome. Outsider. All he was ever meant to be.

"What?" The word was heavy on his tongue, deadened in tone as he sat up, got off the bet, and set to collecting his clothes from the floor.

"Nebarra... What's wrong?"

Everything. "Nothing." He fumbled with his trousers, nearly falling as he tugged them on, still scanning the floor for his shirt. Anything to avoid meeting your eyes.

"Bullshit." Sheets rustled as you leaned forward, and he could practically hear your brows furrow at him. "Is it... because of last night?"

"No." Yes.

"I think it is. And I think we should talk about it – about this."

"There's nothing to talk about," he grunted, still pacing the floor, eyes roving everywhere but the bed. Where was his damn shirt?

"Oh, I think we have a lot to talk about."

He didn't answer, and in the silence, fabric rustled some more. Then, your voice, "...Looking for this?"

Finally, slowly, Nebarra looked at you. You were sitting upright on the bed, and in one hand you held up his shirt, winkled and dusty from the floor.

And you... were still very much naked. Your chest was on blatant display, the blankets pooled low around your hips, deep purple teethmarks scattered over your skin – his doing. Nebarra swallowed, averting his gaze back to the tunic. 

Wordlessly, he stalked over, reaching out for it – only for you to snap your hand back, away from him. He sighed. "What are you doing?"

You didn't answer, though he could feel your gaze burning into him. Reluctantly, he returned it – and the storm in your eyes sent a shock down his spine.

Oh...

Oh, no.

Before he could even begin to pick apart what he saw in there, you raised your arms, slid them through the holes of the shirt, and pulled it down over your head.

You... were wearing his shirt.

Still holding his gaze, there was something like a challenge in your eyes. Nebarra grit his teeth and, for once in his life, held his tongue, unsure if he could win this one.

The thought... unsettled him. 

But... maybe not as much as it should have.

"Nebarra."

No. No, no no no. You couldn't do that to him – say his name in that tone, in that way. 

"What?" he snapped, harsher than intended.

Maybe he should have just been born mute.

"We need to talk about this."

"No, we don't."

"Why not?"

"Because... it was a mistake." He looked away, unable to meet your gaze, tearing a hand through his hair. Coward, coward, coward. "That's all there is – was – to it. We were drunk, and tired, and maybe... just maybe... a little lonely. So we made a bad decision – one we should just forget about, move on from. Because ultimately... it meant nothing. Not a damn thing."

It felt like an eternity passed before you answered, and when you did, your voice was heavy, rasping with emotion. "...If that's how you really feel, then–"

You choked. Nebarra could practically hear the words catch in your throat, dying before they could pass your lips. Instead, a low, bitter laugh rose suddenly in their place; the sound scraped his wounded heart raw. "Gods damn you, Nebarra. You're... really selfish, you know that?"

"Yeah," he mumbled. "I know."

But you weren't done. Because as you rose from the bed, the floorboards creaking beneath your feet, you continued, "You're also... a really shit liar."

And then you were standing before him, your hand on his chin, turning his face towards you, your gaze searching his. He couldn't avoid your eyes this time, couldn't look away from the storm raging within them: hurt, anger, confusion.

Because of him. Him, and his stupid decisions, and his even stupider words.

Yet, even as he stared, he could see something else in them, too.

Affection. Care. Passion. And... lo–

Why? Why him? Of all the people on Nirn you could want, how could you want the mess that was him?

"I don't know," you said softly, and Nebarra realised with horror that he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. "Because, gods, you really are a mess, aren't you? You're bitter, cynical, surly, arrogant, selfish, flawed to the moons and back, but..." Your hand shifted, brushing upwards to cradle his cheek, and the Altmer found himself holding his breath, afraid of what you'd say next, needing to hear what you'd say next.

Only, you didn't say anything. Instead, you simply leaned in, pulled him close – and kissed him. Before he even knew what he was doing, Nebarra found himself returning it, pulling you in closer, hands falling to your waist –

Wait.

No.

Stop.

What was he doing?

Breathless, he pulled away, nearly stumbling over his own feet. His mind spun; he couldn't seem to form a single coherent though. "What – what was that?"

Your eyes seemed to stare right down to his soul, burning with intensity, filled with both pain and longing. Yet a faint, bittersweet smile ghosted across your face as you answered, "Nothing, apparently."

...Damn you.

Before he could change his mind, think himself out of it, Nebarra caught your arm and tugged you sharply back towards him, crashing his lips back against yours. You stumbled from the initial force of it, but he followed your motion, keeping your lips on his.

After a moment, your arms slipped around his neck, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other tickling his nape. He grunted into the kiss, pulling you back towards the bed; you didn't resist, and readily fell back on it.

Nebarra fell with you, straddling your prone form, brushing his lips from your mouth to your jaw, nipping gently as he went. A soft gasp escaped you; his hands slid down, tugging your shirt – his shirt – gradually upward, pulling it off of you. 

And immediately he sat up, got off the bed, and tugged it over his own head. Without a word, he walked away to the other side of the room, leaving you naked and stunned on the bed.

"...Nebarra!"

"Like you said," he muttered, stalking across the room and far from you, "I'm selfish."

He could hear a frustrated breath hissing through your teeth. "Damn you! Why can't you just admit what you feel, what you want? What are you so afraid of?"

The elf froze.

You could see right through him, couldn't you?

"You don't... even know me," he managed at last, keeping his back towards you. "You don't even know my name, my real name."

"I don't need a name to know you, though. Names aren't what define us – we define them. It doesn't matter to me whether you're Nebarra or... or Nico, or something else entirely. Because you're still, and always will be you, regardless of what name you answer to."

Gods, why did you have to be so damn stubborn?

"Pot, kettle, black," you sniffed, and Nebarra realised that yet again, he'd spoken aloud. "And who knows, maybe I picked some of it up from you in the first place."

Sighing heavily, Nebarra leaned forwards and let his forehead thunk against the wall. He stayed like that for a long moment, counting his breaths, trying to collect his thoughts.

"I'm not... suited for a relationship," he slowly began. "I wouldn't be... you have better options than me. People who could give you what you want far better than I could."

At that, you actually laughed, and he turned to look at you despite himself. There was no smile on your face, only pain and mockery; the sight drove thorns through his chest. "Who, then, O wise one, most knowledgeable of relationships? Who on Nirn can give me what I want, when what I want – is you."

He shook his head. "Well... you shouldn't. I can give you nothing."

"You aren't nothing," you said softly. "Your heart isn't nothing. Don't you get that yet, Nebs?"

"My... heart," he echoed, staring blankly at you. "My heart."

Shifting, you rose from the bed, wrapping a blanket around yourself as you approached. "Yeah, your heart. This thing–" you placed a hand over his chest "–that's beating right here, going at a million miles a second." Your eyes locked with his once more, and somehow, even before you spoke, he knew. He knew.

"I love you, you miserable bastard. And I want you, not for anything you can offer me, but for who you are. There's no doubt in my mind about that. Now, the only question left is... how do you feel? What do you want?"

He couldn't hide from it any longer. The truth was on his tongue, escaping his lips before he even had to think about it. "You. I just... gods damn it, I just want you," he rasped. "But..."

You placed a gentle finger against his mouth. "Shh," you murmured. "No buts."

Slowly, Nebarra raised a hand, brought it up to yours, and pulled it away from his lips, instead lacing his fingers with yours. "No, listen. I... this... is going to be complicated, if we really do this. And... you're probably going to get hurt and disappointed because of me. There's a lot you don't know–"

"And you can tell me when you're ready," you soothed, brushing your thumb across the back of his hand. "We'll cross all those bridges when we get to them. And yes, before you protest any further," you added, when his mouth opened to do just that, "I'm aware of the emotional risks. But that's part of every relationship, Nebarra, and you know that. So, again, when they do inevitably arrive, we'll cross those bridges together."

...He really didn't deserve you. Didn't understand how or why you wanted him, of all people. But as you rested your forehead against his, breaths mingling, eyes full of nothing but each other – Nebarra realised he didn't care, anymore.

The voices in his head, all the doubts and fears – they still hissed their poison, and he knew it would be a long, long time before they stopped. But a new voice had joined the mix, soft but confident, telling him that maybe, just maybe, life wasn't about "deserving" things, but appreciating them. That maybe, amid the bleak desert of his past, he could still find a lone rose of happiness.

And that voice... sounded an awful lot like yours.

#nebarra #nebarra skyrim #skyrim nebarra #whisper writes #finally. its done. #i feel like this ended up so out of character and im so so sorry about that but man i'm tired. i ran out of steam weeks ago. #i didn't even edit this bruh #i just wanted to FINISH it #sigh. anyway #i hope yall are listening to the songs i list on the fics cause dAMN theyre good and the entire reason these shity little scribbles exist #this one took. SO MANY SONGS to keep me going.. to give me the ideas and motivation to finish #the three i listed were just the biggest contributors #but there were LOTS more believe me lol #i go to sleep now. it is 11am and my sleep schedule is FUCKED mate #woke up at like 6pm yesterday evening #my whole system's wrecked #im rambling again lol gnight gnight i hope yall have a good one

[mcytgallificated]

Im out of asks so I will either succumb to boredom now or go batshit insane and make something ridiculous you guys arent ready for this

#mcytgallificatedthoughts #i appreciate all the attention this blog has been receiving so much #its great and so motivating #keep sending me asks #the brainrot isnt stopping #i sort of developed a gallifreyan shorthand to use when i dont feel like going circular #and i filled various pages of my art sketchbook with that #i dont art i just write #thank you everyone for supporting my little brain things i Iove every single one of you #:D

[pyrriax]

one day i will stop being afraid of getting hounded for writing something that is less pretty and more just. raw.

#haunted ecosystem #how do i describe what i mean by this. something about the Vibe and taking a less amicable approach to things. #also i might just start. posting shit. who cares if i spoil what technically happens later in the AU. if it gets me motivated then like. #honestly. #also i need to stop being afraid to write sequel/world continuations #i want to write more in the world i set up with asomatous because i think there's more there to explore #also forgive me being pretty bad about updates recently. life hit me with a brick and then i decided playing minecraft was important #(its escapism okay. and fic writing is escapism but also kind of reserved for when im having Emotions. because im shit at that) #i keep telling myself im going to work on prompt fills for some bingo cards i got and then being a coward about it #honestly i might post some anon fics (it'll probably be temporary as anon) and just know people will probably recognize my style #idk im a little afraid of this fandom and i wish i wasnt pvnjdk its probably because im Late to a lot of this and not a stream/VOD watcher #anyways biting this off here #that is not a phrase people use. #its 4:32am give me a break

[alternis]

ive been putting my third eye au ideas into a tentative timeline (split into pre-plot and story plot) and man. man. drafting is hell. i think in words so writing itself generally is fine but trying to come up with plot outlines to keep a structure/framework so i dont get bogged in the weeds is real rough.

#im the sort of person that once i get writing i often end up with very little editing from my first draft #but getting to my first draft involves a lot of structure work to keep myself on track. due to the severe untreated adhd. #i dont really write in chronological order so i need a structure i can jump backwards and forwards within #my longest work was like 40k and i started that one with an outline i broke into loose chapter-by-chapter summaries #that i then wrote out into a full story only i started in the middle and jumped backwards and forwards between chapters #so i know that works for me its just so much planning to keep me on track #and at that point my ex was my beta reader and the one i was writing it for so i had external help/motivation to keep me on track #all to say that writing is easy but also its so hard. its so hard

[tryingtimi]

Lonel: Draft 0 | Writing Log

DATE: 07.24 - 07.30 lAST DAY WC: 259 TOTAL WC: 2,114 CHAPTERS DONE: 1/2

THOUGHTS The pressure of logging apparently helps me get things done, huh. I've got a very clear picture of the first and second chapter, so the flow of the first half is very easy and nice. I'm kinda satisfied with the opening scene, and I finally let myself edit during writing (or not being completely done with the chapter or draft itself), so I take that as a little success. Lonel's character is not neccessarily the kind I first intended, but I believe he'll evolve with time. While thinking about his personality, I almost strayed to work a little bit on Sasin, the story that will connect to this one, but I ended up not doing that. I also very much enjoy the research on forensic jobs. Didn't even know there were vlogs about it? That sounds pretty extra, but oh well.

INSPIRATION SPARK: The Bear, Sons of Anarchy. Honestly, the latter is so 2000s, it's painful and nostalgic in the same time. It also feels pretty boring, but there is something that tickles my brain in the right way to add to Lonel a lot. While The Bear is just so good, I re-watched it twice now. Lonel has some things in common with Carmy, and his journey helped me come up with the opening chapter, so.

#Project Lonel #Lonel log #writing log #writing community #writeblr #the promised log #thank you for checking this out #its really just a silly little thing for me to keep myself motivated

[ziracona]

Yeah, they really made an absolute dogs breakfast of the writing in Inquisition? It's so abysmal that I don't know if it'll ever recover, much less if the writers would even WANT to. In all honesty, I know the previous two games were far from perfect but at least the writing was more or less consistent, can't say the same for DA:I unfortunately...

Yeah. I kept hoping the end would somehow fix stuff but the end was worse than most of the game. O_O I could have written a god-tier game with the concept and basic outline for Inquisition, but alas I am not head BioWare staff. And we sure as hell did not get a god tier game. Tbh I have no interest in DW unless I hear they’ve like, wildly changed the game/writing course of their development. And I don’t exactly have high hopes, because they seem to have mostly staff from Inquisition on it. But I in good conscience can’t keep forking over piles of money for a tripple A game and DLCs when they U-turn from lauding me for massacring a bannon for what they did to my husband, Alienage, and friend, and even Lady agreeing that while she wants the descendants free, the original humans the Keeper went after absolutely deserved their fate, with a little DLC that talks about the cultural appropriation of indigenous people in the world and the loss of their own history to their invaders to the point a circle mage can read and speak more elvish than the Dalish companion, and how terrible it is, to a game where they refuse to take any stance really, finally to a game where they frame Briala & Celine together as cute & sweet with no tell to player who hasn’t read TME on their own what that woman did, retcon the godhood of every culture they based (often not just visibly but explicitly Word of God as well) on minority cultures until the only not retconned god is Fantasy Catholic God, so the only paths forward are Fantasy Catholic (traditional white Europeans are right & all other cultures wrong) or Atheism (modern white European ideology is right and all other cultures wrong), both terrible, and are so allergic to a minority rights narrative they retcon the entire elven history of the franchise to make it Opulent Suddenly European And Slaver Society back in its glory days, and kneecap the game’s second best character by making his sudden face heel end game goal Racial Supremacist Genocide to go back to Opulent Suddenly European Styled Culture for Elves?? And-ah forget it this would go on for a while day. Just. Yeah. It had wild potential as a game and I loved scenes and characters, and am retreating to DAO->DA2 with the things I liked in the divorce, and I could have made SUCH a DAI. But as it stands, I just. Both don’t and can’t really care going forward. I love the games I played and characters and that won’t change, but I have no faith they’ll not just keep getting worse (personally), and I’m not Paying to see that. But yeah, the others ain’t perfect, but they’re fun and solid enough. Even though I think DAO is easily the most well made, DA2 has such a fun cast and interesting concept and story, and such moments, it was my favorite. And he’ll, Nothing is perfect. That’s normal and expected. But there’s a big difference between ‘I don’t like these aspects but I like the whole enough’ and like

#ask #anonymous #dai spoilers #I still can’t BELIEVE they gave Solas one of the most God-Tier charcaters of all time in DAI and then in Trespasser went ‘haha psych! time #for racism species Supremacist Genocide Intellectual Dude Bro motives!’ like wtf I’m taking him & Cole in the divorce and leaving #they really had a charcater all game that was ‘pretending to be a calm Lawful Good professor but he’s Wearing the Mask & sometimes it cracks #but when you see behind it it’s not death sidius it’s Bugs Bunny sawing florida off the United States and ALSO he’s a big wolf’ and then #didn’t even let him actually be a trickster god just some dude who’s willing to kill every species in existence to hit race supremacy again #UNBELIEVABLE writing move in the worst way. I could have made the most amazing upsetting Solas starts a war finale while he’s still a god #and elves keep their elf culture and shaken the franchise to its knees and delivered writing unknown to man and done RIGHT by the bald man #but the devs fkn decided to massacre their franchise and my boy right in front of me #well not on my watch. I’m taking him and leaving back to previous games and writing my own - better inquisition in my head #if this timeline won’t deliver I’ll make my own! it won’t be the first fkn time #GOD it’s the little things too! in DAO I can help my bestie kill her abhsive mom but in DAI I’m supposed to find Flemeth sympathetic??? shes #the same flemeth who ruined my girl’s life as she has countless others! they really nosedive into so many piles of shit in DAI #to unfortunately paraphrase Trespasser Solas: I would be /thrilled/ to be proven wrong by BioWare. like you can’t imagine #but I’m not holding my breath. one fan who loves a charcater generates in a month 12x more usable DAI story and lore than the entire team in #the last 9 years

[angabby-zzz]

I dont see myself writing anything for profit (or other people) rn but especially bc idk how i would react to seeing headcanons about my ocs or the possibly rancid takes on them that would come from whatever fandom it would spawn

#text pose #idc for race or queer hcs of shows or wtv but imagining people turning my ocs into Their silly little guys is so horrid 2 me #would i have 2 just laugh it off or be super vague about my reaction 2 keep being liked by fandom. the worst ?!! #maybe its just bc of how i write my characters and my problem w being motivated to work with them #ik i keep mentioning stuff like this but idk its just weird to think abt #just random corner my brain drags me to when im bored

[thatfizzyyyy]

🧍🏾‍♀️

#oops im rambling #am just talking abt my mental helth in the tags #i have no motivation to do anything #i must force myself to do everything #i spend all my time alone #bc my parents keep me locked in this house #and i dont have the energy to fight for myself even a little bit #but i lay down and look at images on my phone #and in the silent peaceful moments #it almost doesn't feel like im wasting away in my cage #but thats not the point of this #i just mean to say that i just lay in bed all day #and i cant bring myself to do things i used to enjoy #like reading or writing or making art #im trying to make more art but thats only so i can make money #not really for my own enjoyment #i don't even watch tv or anime anymore #its too hard #i wasn't always like this really #the only thing i do consistently now is journaling #i dont even feel sad abt it but i just c dont feel like doing anything

[chxrryhansen]

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍

Pairing; Dark!Rafe Cameron x Innocent!Reader

Warnings; CNC!!!! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. smut, extremely dark themes, unprotected sex, public sex, choking, drugging? (rafe manipulates reader into snorting a line) degrading terms (slut, whore) loss of virginity, tiny bit of blood, breeding kink, size difference, daddy kink, dumbification, dacryphillia, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Based on x.

authors note; i really thought about never finishing this because i just haven’t had the motivation or wanted to write in quite a while. but i’ve been neglecting you guys! so i tried my best to finish it, however i literally hate this fic so much so please don’t come at me bc i know its shit😛 its around like 1.3k words so… take it or leave it ig.

“Hey, so uh, you come here often?” The boy says, rubbing his nose with his right finger while motioning with his beer filled hand to the party further down the beach.

Your friend had dragged you to one of the weekend bonfires at the beach, kooks only of course. Which is exactly what you were, a sheltered, spoilt, kook. Right down to the core.

Your family had given you everything you ever wanted growing up, paying for homeschooling from the best private tutor on the island, buying you whatever the new pair of heels on the market was, but that never deterred your sweet heart.

You weren’t a prude and even though you were, you didn’t act spoilt, you appreciated everything your family did for you. You didn’t have many friends considering the private life you lived. Your best friend was your neighbour, both of you having grown up together, your father and hers both being in the same business really tied the strings in your friendship.

She was quite the opposite of you, partying every weekend, hanging out with boys and drinking to the point she was incapable of walking. Long story short, she had begged you to come, a promise of a sleepover and movie night afterwards.

Except that wasn’t the case. Within 15 minutes she had found a new man to latch onto, leaving you sitting by yourself on a wooden log infront of a small campfire someone must’ve ditched.

You looked up, a tall muscular boy with a backwards cap staring down at you, his pretty blues lighting up in the reflection of the fire. You didn’t answer him, being too caught up in the flare of his strong presence. His aura was engulfing, your body instantly being drawn to him.

You didn’t know it of course, but Rafe did.

One look at your pretty face and the sweet scent of your purity and he just knew he had to have it. A smirk appeared on the boys face as he took a seat on the log next to you, his eyes never leaving your own.

“Gonna’ answer me, sweetheart?”

“Uhm, n-no not really, it’s my first. My friends around here somewhere… not sure where she went.” You murmured.

Rafes smirk widened, how blessed he was to have stumbled upon a sweet, innocent, little bunny like you.

“S’okay. I can keep you company. Name’s Rafe.”

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a little white baggie filled with a powdery substance. Noticing your stare he asks “You want some?”

“What is that stuff?” you mumble, knitting your eyebrows together in confusion.

“This shits the good stuff, s’ like powdered sugar. Gets you feelin’ real good, one line of this and you’ll feel on top of the world, sweetheart.” he smirks moving closer to the point your knees touch, yet his eyes still don’t leave your own.

“C’mere, lay back a little.” and do you do.

Without question.

Which of course stirs Rafe’s dominant instinct, he just cant stop thinking about shoving you onto your knees and fucking your throat til you choke on his fat cock.

But he’ll save that for later.

Rafe proceeds to pour a little powder onto your chest, sitting perfectly above your perky tits. He then reaches into his pocket and picks out a bank card, then using it to create a smooth line on your chest.

He moves in. Snorting the line right off your tits. A tingly feeling appeared in between your thighs. The sensation of his hot breath on your chest making your own increase.

He leans back and looks towards the sky, his curtains framing his face as he does so, lifting a finger and closing a nostril he sniffs deeply, sighing in relief afterwards. “See, easy as that. Your turn, beautiful.”

“M’kay” you shrug.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Rafe shifts on the log, lying down on his back and spreading his lets wide. He repeats the process on his abs, pouring the coke, creating the line and then ushering you forwards.

“Remember. All you gotta’ do is cover one of your nostrils, and use the other to sniff it right up. You got that?”

“Mhm” You nod excitedly.

“Ah ah ah. Use your words.”

“Yes Rafe. I got it.” You whisper, your pretty doe eyes staring up at him.

“Good girl.” He groans as you begin to snort the coke from his abs. His cock is painfully hard which obviously you didn’t notice, his pre cum leaking from his swollen tip, desperate to have your soppy cunt wrapped around it.

Within 5 minutes the drugs had hit you.

Your head was spinning and your control of your own body wavy, your movements restricted.

“I-i feel kinda fuzzy. Don’t like it…think i’m gonna’ go home now.” Rafe debates begging you to stay, but a better plan crosses his mind.

An eery smirk appears across his handsome features. “How about i walk you, s’ not safe for a pretty girl like you to be out in the dark all by yourself.”

The second you’re out of sight from the beach a hand wraps around your mouth, Rafe’s body pressing your own against a tall tree, blocking any escape. Your eyes go wide in fear, tears beginning to well up as you attempt to scream.

Your tears should make him irritated, angry even. But it doesn’t. It only turns him on more. His dick growing harder by the second.

“Shut the fuck up or i-i swear to god i’ll slit your throat. Can’t believe you kept this innocent act up. I can practically smell how soaked you are you fuckin’ slut.”

Before you can even think of screaming you’re cut off by your own wail as Rafe’s cock disappears between your folds. He bottoms out in one harsh thrust, your legs become slack as he grips your hips, holding you upright on his length.

“So fuckin’ tight. Gonna’ fuck you so good you’ll forget your own god damn name.” He growls.

The sound of clapping skin begins to echo, the skin of your ass turning raw due to his brutal thrusts. The tears don’t stop, only beginning to mix with the drool and sweat leaking down your face. Your wails and whimpers turn to moans as your cunt soaks his length.

Rafe knew you were perfect, that’s why he picked you. But this just proved him right.

“Fuckkk. You like that? Who knew you’d be such a dirty whore f’ me.” He chuckles, throwing his head back in ecstasy, yet his thrusts don’t slow. His pace almost animalistic.

The sensation of your pussy clenching tells Rafe what he wanted to know.

Rafe lets out a loud groan. “Jesus. You’re gonna’ fuckin’ cum aren’t you? Getting off on your rapists cock. Ask me. Ask daddy if you can cum.”

His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing tightly as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Please can i cum daddy? I need it s-so bad.” You whine, shifting your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his shaft, your back still pinned against the tree.

“Cum. Cum for daddy. Holy shitttt, pussys grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice.”

Your cream coats his cock as you scream, biting your lip harshly to try and muffle your pleasure.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if the whole beach heard that from here you dumb slut.” He groans, lifting a hand to fist your hair, tugging harshly.

His thick cock continues to pummel your insides, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

As Rafe looks down he notices a glint of red at the base of his shaft. The sight of your cream and blood alone brings him closer to the edge.

“Gonna’ cum in this pretty cunt, can’t wait to fill you up, baby. Daddy’s gonna’ cum.”

His release is met with a loud growl, his balls throbbing as his load fills you, thick ropes of his hot cum shoot into your pussy.

“That’s ittttt. fuck. Taking my cum like such a good girl.”

Rafe is slow to pull out, inching you off his cock as he pants trying to catch his breath. His hold however never leaves you, ensuring you don’t fall due to the brutal fucking you just received.

His attention is grabbed at the sound of your sobs, his thumb swiping over your cheek and collecting your tears. His pretty blues stare into your own, almost waiting for you to run.

But you don’t.

“Shh Shh Shh. No more tears. Daddy’s gonna’ take care of you from now on.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe #rafe smut #dark rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey fic #outer banks smut #outer banks fic

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

#writing advice #rambling #first drafts #gotta say not mad on being called a horrormaster #feel like ive a ways to go yet #horror journeyman maybe

[soobnny]

kiss me — lee minho.

trope. established relationship. just fluff and a lot of making out. minho is needy

synopsis. your favorite genre of lee minho is when he’s needy and begging for your kisses after a long exhausting day

word count. 1.4k words

warnings. kind of suggestive but not rly ? just lots of kissing so neck kisses and making out but nothing more

note. i can’t defend myself im sorry minho’s lips r just so pretty and kissable that i had to write about it

You think your favorite genre of Lee Minho is when he’s needy.

He barely makes an appearance, but when he does, he always takes you by full force. It doesn’t help that with this neediness comes a softness that had always been in the boy, but rarely showed.

Now that you’re dating, though, this intertwine of softness and neediness shows a little more often than when you were tiptoeing the thin, undistinguishable line between friends and lovers. It’s different from the care he displays to his friends, where he’s teasing, but you know he’s listening. It’s not quite like the one he shows his family either.

With you comes a particular softness that’s reserved for you only.

Like right now.

It’s an odd hour in the night, just close to midnight when he comes home. It’s the nth time he’s complaining about practice, sputtering loud whines about how coming up with the choreography had taken a much longer time than he had anticipated, stretching practice out longer than usual, and how this could’ve been time to spend with you.

Disdain drips from his tongue as he peels his jacket off of him, shamelessly zipping it down in front of you before tossing it aside in the laundry bin. “Just gonna shower, okay?”

His statement comes accompanied with a kiss to your jaw, and then he’s off to the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long before he’s walking out with wet hair arranged messily over his forehead, and you admit without shame how good he looks shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants with a towel in hand to continue drying his hair.

“Stay awake for me, pretty girl.”

It is with selfishness that Minho asks you to stay up for just a little longer as he searches for a plain shirt to wear to bed. How could he not act on it? He had been thinking of kissing you hours ago, and he couldn’t wait until morning to feel your lips against his.

“Mkay…” He smiles at your persistence to stay awake for him, that gentleness peeking just a little as he takes a mental note of the way you scrunch your nose to keep your yawn in. He’ll save this memory to think about if practice runs a little too long again tomorrow.

The whiff of his laundry detergent is strong enough to peel your eyes open as he places himself beside you on his bed, and automatically, his arm makes its way around your waist.

You wonder what his motive is – it seems like he’s expecting something from the way his fingers tap at your hip, and the way it seems like he’s holding himself back from doing something. But Lee Minho is an impatient man, and it only takes about two minutes before he’s tugging at your shirt, sporting a feigned pout.

And then it all clicks.

You know this is his way of asking you to sit on his lap. Lee Minho has always been much more comfortable with showing his love through acts of service, however, he is still a man in love and in need of physical touch from the one person that matters the most in his life from time to time.

And years of knowing him would teach you that he has always had trouble with voicing his more physical concerns as he has never been outwardly touchy. Those years have also taught you of his little hints.

Like right now, when he’s tugging at your shirt.

A relieved sigh escapes his lips when you finally comply. Especially when most of the time you’d let him fight for it, enjoying the way his face would glow in heftiness over your demands of him telling you what he wants – but you really don’t think he’s in the mood.

He must’ve been so exhausted after practice to allow his neediness to make an appearance, even to the point of a whine almost spilling at his lips when you don’t respond to his tugging right away.

But you’re on his lap now, and that’s what matters the most to him. His hands immediately hike up your shirt, fingers sliding through your bare skin to claim their home in the curves and slopes of your body, the ones he’s memorized all too well.

“My needy boy is so cute.” You giggle.

There’s teasing laced in your voice when he leans down to comfortably rest his head on the crook of your neck, taking your hand and dropping it on his head as a sign for you to run your hand through it.

“Shut up.” Minho grumbles in response, fingers tracing little patterns over the skin he can reach.

He hums in satisfaction when you tug at his hair, the way he likes it, and you feel the ghost of a smile form on his face. When he lifts his hips up, you know it’s another hint that he wants you to move closer than you already were.

“Want me to kiss you?”

“Don’t make me say it.” He groans as he peels his head from your neck, lips moving to press against yours the moment you mention it but you move away just as quickly, dodging away from his kiss.

“So, you don’t want me to kiss you?” Minho’s groans grow louder, grip tightening on your waist gently to tell you what he wants. “(Name), please.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You laugh quietly, leaning forward this time to place a wet peck on his lips.

The simple gesture makes him fumbly, fingers moving to stroke your back before coming back down to caress your waist. Lee Minho is always so vulnerable when you kiss him like that, hands feeling him up after long hours at practice.

He looks at you with so much fondness beneath his hooded eyes before he makes a move to drag his lips down your neck so you don’t take notice of his unusually red face. His damp hair tickles a little, but you don’t mind – not when the sight of the man sitting beneath you, so hazy and soft, was entirely different to the Lee Minho the world thinks they know.

“You did good today.” You tap the back of his neck to get his attention, and almost immediately he’s looking back at you, at your eyes, then at your lips, and back to your eyes.

His eyes are a little blown out, but you can’t quite tell, not when he’s closing them and leaning in to kiss you. And his lips slot against yours perfectly, like they always do, but there’s more fervor and desperation in the way he’s kissing you right now, tongue running over your lower lip just so he can get more of you.

“Not tired yet?” You mumble against his lips, and he simply shakes his head, only pulling away when he can no longer control his breathing. He has a stupid smile on his face.

He allows himself to look at you for a few seconds, and the sight of your gentle smile and your messy hair and the flush pinkess of your lips, and the way you look down at him – mirroring the same amount of love he feels for you.

A sharp breath leaves his nose at the intimacy of the moment, and he’s hit again with just how much he really loves you that he feels the need to say it out loud. He doesn’t say it enough. He thinks he should work on saying it more.

“Love you.” Minho says it so softly, but in the quiet of his bedroom, you hear it clearly.

“I love you too.”

“You love me too?” He still feels the need to verify, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder before moving to work their way back to your lips.

“I do. A lot.”

“Hmmm.” The atmosphere is silent when he pulls away from your skin, head tilted back, open-mouthed and eyes hooded as he breathes you in. “Come give me another kiss.”

And you do.

Lee Minho would never admit out loud, but you’ve got him terrifyingly wrapped around your finger.

He is so, so stupidly in love with you, in a lovesick, comforting kind of way and from the way you’re smiling and giggling right now, he considers giving his needy and soft side more screen time in the future just for you.

And only ever for you.

#k-labels #stray kids fic #minho x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #stray kids lee know #stray kids au #lee know x you #stray kids minho #lee minho #minho fic #minho imagines #minho au #stray kids fluff #minho fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids oneshots #stray kids scenario #lee know scenarios #stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #lee minho fluff #minho x you #skz minho #stray kids x you #stray kids oneshot #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff

[verinarin]

Drunken mind, sober thoughts

fluff | slightly suggestive | Rafayel’s low tolerance towards alcohol has left you in a little bit of a problem, his drunken mind spoke his truest thoughts

a/n this is my first time writing for Rafayel to combat my writer’s block ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡, but don’t worry Veritas Ratio lovers I would come bearing gift in the near future, NOT PROOFREAD !

The night’s at its prime and so does Rafayel, he lavishes himself in fruitless conversation amongst people with different ulterior motives, his lips curves into a mischievous smile as his lips touched the rim of his liquor filled glass

As a result of his carelessness in indulging alcohol as well as his low tolerance, a hue of crimson painted his face. The colour contrasts beautifully with his pale skin, leaving both men and women mesmerised whilst talking towards him

This however does not bode with you, Thomas knew that Rafayel would mindlessly quench his thirst with alcohol that’s why he specifically made a curfew for Rafayel and well the night must come to an end for the charismatic painter

With a sigh leaving your body you leaned down towards his neck, “Rafayel, you have an important interview tomorrow. You need to go home okay ?,” you whisper softly, not wanting to upset the visibly drunk man

With a huff he swiftly finished his glass, he flash an apologetic smile towards his ‘friends’, he quickly stood up from his seat and bid the crowd farewell, you could feel multiple pair of eyes glaring at you silently cursing you from taking Rafayel away from them

“Miss bodyguard, I’m still bored. How do you plan to fix that hmm ?” Rafayel pouts as he try to steady his steps, you let out a small groan before intertwining your fingers with his, letting his weight slightly rest on your body for support, “You can’t even walk straight,”

“Ah that’s true !, but once we’re at the hotel room we could still play something don’t you think ?” he looks down towards you with that trademarked smiles of his

“You need to sleep Rafayel,” you huff as you tap the room’s key onto the censor, you carefully lead Rafayel towards the bed, but with him being stubborn you could only manage to seat him on the couch

“Rafayel you’re flushed red right now, it would be better to sleep now to minimise your hangover in the morning,” you kneel before the man, the soft yellow glow of the moon illuminates his skin, his lips curves into a pout as he defies your order

“Can’t sleep, don’t want to,” he huffs as he fold his arms and look away, you can’t help but to chuckle seeing the man before you acting like a child, “Alright let’s make a deal then,”

“I’m listening,” he turns his head back towards you, your hand reach forward to gently caress his cheek, the skin burns warmly against your nerves, “I would give you a reward you can redeem now, whatever it is you want I’ll give it to you in exchange of you sleeping afterwards,”

“Deal, I want you to sleep beside me, hold me close and keep me safe during the night,” he replies without much thought, it’s like he already has this request at the back of his mind waiting for a chance to come to fruition

It took you a couple of seconds to weigh in the pros and cons, well his request is pretty effective in keeping tabs on him so you simply nodded and with that somehow the man before you gain a foothold of sobriety for just a second to drag his own body towards the bed, “I’m stuffy in this shirt, can you change my clothes please ?,”

In a normal day you would probably hit his head for requesting that but in light of his current predicament and the fact that you’re too tired to argue you simply rummage through his baggage and bring back a pyjama set for him to wear

“Here you go, now I want to change too so I expect you to finish changing once I’m done,” you set the clothes beside him before taking your own fresh clothes and change into a more comfortable clothes, once you exit the bathroom you could only see Rafayel waiting for you like a loss puppy

“Why aren’t you in your pyjamas yet ?,” you sigh before setting down your dirty clothes and walk towards him, “I can’t reach my leg, can’t wear pants,” hearing that you ascertain that this man is dumber than usual becomes there’s no connection between his leg and dragging his pants down

“Well I guess you’re sleeping in that outfit then,” you shrug as you walk away from him, but he prevented you by grasping your wrist, “Please change my clothes for me, I don’t like feeling sticky,” he whines and of course whatever he wants he’ll get

You steel yourself as you kneel down before him and start to slowly unbutton his shirt, you could see his chest heaving up and down as you carefully undress him, “Y’know I feel like your mom, because this is not in my job description,”

“It would be,” Rafayel replies calmly, shutting down your small chuckles. “What do you mean by that ?,” you ask as you drag the shirt off his shoulders

“Well in the future you’ll be my lover so this would also be a reoccurring task,” he smirks as he took his shirt off and bringing the pyjama shirt on to your hand, your merely laugh at his drunken mind not knowing that it’s his sincerest wish

“Yeah yeah I’m sure it’ll be delightful to have you as a boyfriend,” you tease as you button up his shirt, now this part is tricky, his pants. “Can’t you undress your pants by yourself?,”

“What are you shy ?,” he chuckles as he leans down and hold eye contact towards you, “It’s inappropriate for me y’know,” you roll your eyes, hoping that he would not sense your embarrassment

“Why would it be inappropriate ?, you would see what’s underneath it when the time comes,” he winks and with that you quickly stood up, he whines and apologises. He quickly change his pants by himself why you stare at the wall waiting for him and at the same time trying to calm your breath

And with that you’re now laying on the bed with Rafayel resting his head against your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist like a vice, “So soft and warm,” he mumbles, you can’t help but to find it hard to maintain your composure when there’s a thin line that Rafayel is crossing,

“You didn’t mean what you say, you’ll forget it in the morning,” you huff as you pet his hair, you could feel his displeasure at your sentiment since he nuzzled his face deeper into your chest, not wanting to look at you, “I won’t forget it and even if I do, everything that comes off my mouth is sincere and true,” he mumbles

“Drunken mind is often filled with sober thoughts,”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #homura x reader

[3hks]

How to Write an IMPACTFUL Backstory

Honestly, writing and reading about backstories is probably one of my favorite parts of a character's story! It's a strong foundation for a character's goals, motives, thoughts, and actions! Its most powerful effect, on the other hand, is its ability to change one's view on a character. So, then, how do we write such an impactful past?

For beginners, the more tragic the backstory, the better. While this does hold some truth, let me re-iterate that it's for beginners. The idea behind it is that a pure, devastatingly pitiful backstory is unique and pulls at your reader's heartstrings. Unfortunately, instead, we're left with an origin story that feels superficial, overly-dramatic, unnecessary, and shallow. However in this post, I will give you some tips on how to avoid creating such 2D backgrounds and actually bring your character's past to life!

First, your character's backstory can be made with whatever components you choose, but the key is that you must balance them out correctly. Additionally, the majority of the time, you do want their story to stick out, so I suggest trying to come up with something original! It's much harder than it sounds, but honestly, every other protagonist has dead parents at this point. Be creative, add details, and don't be afraid to let your character go through things if you feel that it's fitting!

Second, don't extend their past for too long. The point of introducing the backstory is to elaborate on a (few) certain event(s) that affected your character the most and forever changed their lives. Keep it centered around one, or at most, a couple events.

Next, most writers tend to use sadness and/or to fuel the character, but it should not be overbearing and excessive. Alternatively, it should feel GENUINE. Not dramatic, but genuine. Different genres do form different types of backstories, yes, but the core concept behind it should be something natural. It should be something that your readers will be able to understand; something authentic. They should feel some sense of relatability, even if it's just a little. This could be like family issues, broken friendships, betrayals, leaving someone, mental struggles, loneliness, etc. Complexity can surround these concepts, but the basic, fundamental ideas should still be present.

Furthermore, be sure that their backstory makes sense. Even if you're introducing it through quick, brief flashbacks, ultimately, you want the reader to have all the pieces to solve the puzzle.

Last but not least, make your backstory feel personal to your character! Build it in a sense that if it were to go to any other character, it wouldn't have an effect that's as severe. Make it targeted to its owner. While this is something that can be difficult to execute, it really provides insight to your character, and is an easy way to add some intricacy to a simple backstory! A good place to start is thinking about the things personal to your character. For instance, this could be their past before the event, people they care about, their morals, etc. Then, add it in said event so that it pushes and/or challenges your character in a way that makes them re-evaluate that value.

There you go! Here are my personal tips on how to upgrade your character's backstory and have it really impact your reader! Be creative, keep it centered around a couple things, make it genuine, and make it targeted to the character!

Happy writing~

3hks <3

#writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #writing tips #writing inspo #creative writing #writing advice #thank you #how to write a backstory #tips to writing a backstory #backstory #character creation #oc writing #character writing #writing a backstory

[st4rrth0ughts]

There's not enough sub!Sampo out there thank you for writing it <3 I just want to put him in a mating press and breed him. Maybe be his sugar daddy and make him wear slutty outfits. He's a whore (affectionatly)

a/n :aghsshsk anon you read my mind holy shit (+ tw, sampo being a little shit) [edit, sorry for the long ass wait, anon, i lost motivation T-T

Sampo being fucked silly by sugar daddy reader. 💎💚

Its a match made in heaven, whether the unspoken feelings between you two went unsaid or not. You wanted company, and had too much money for yourself to spend alone. Sampo was more than willing to be the one for you to dote on. Its pretty nice, coffee dates, spoling your purple haired sweetheart, you could say that the cunning man knew the effect he had on you. But sometimes, he steps out of line, flirting with other people, even he needs some punishment.

You knew Sampo was probably doing this just to get on your nerves. Its no secret that he's always turned on by you manhandling him in the bedroom like he was a toy. Perhaps the last straw for you was when he sent you photos while you were at work, with your pretty sugar baby in a outfit that made your cock bulge embarrassingly large in your pants. He was making a lewd face at the camera, a vibrator shoved into his pussy with the caption, wish it was you inside me, sweetheart <33. When you get home, he's protesting as you drag and lock him in the bedroom, but the glint in his eyes tell you that he knew damn well this would happen.

Fuck him in that outfit he was wearing earlier, tears pricking his eyes as you stuff the vibrator into his cunt, turning it at max speed while he whimpers and begs you to have mercy on him, saying he'll be your good boy. Well, too late for that, you think as he throws his head back, squirting hard around the toy, as you gently coo and let it continue to overstimulate him, fingers finding their way to trace over his nub, making him arch against the bed like a cat in heat. His eyes are wide open as he throws his head back, his arms restrained by the handcuffs bounding him to the bed post.

Reaching down and burying your face into his cunt, your tongue plunging into his cushy walls, making him squeal and pull agaisnt his restraints so hard its bruising his wrists. Despite all that, he's still being a good boy and keeping his legs open for you to ravish him, and your all too happy to oblige. Stuffing another finger into his pussy as you find spots so deep in him the thief is seeing stars as he bucks his hips into the air. He lets out a pretty wail when you shove your length into him at one go, his stomach bulging from the sheer size of you, which is something he'll never get used to.

Fondle his tits as your cock pounds into him from behind as he arches his back harshly, he’ll claw at the sheets, your back, your arms, but it’s futile as your hands maintain their grip on his waist, your mouth and soft lips roaming over his neck. His cunt is dripping while his head lolls back, dazed eyes looking back at you. lifting him up from the bed as your hands hold him, his legs dangling over the ground limply as your cock hits all the right spots deep in him, his cum leaking around you and forming a small pool on the carpet, his hands trying to claw at your arms as he whines out for you to stop, only to cry softly when you actually do show signs of slowing down, stuffing two fingers down his throat to muffle him as he’s left midair being fucked silly by you.

Getting him into a mating press while he panics slightly at how deep you push into him, your cock fits so much nicer like this, and he shrieks when you start to fuck his cervix. His hands held above him in a firm grasp as he tries to struggle away from you, begging for a break as your length splits him open again, loud wails and sobs filling the room as his knees are folded to his chest, aeons, he can feel you fucking his cervix so harshly that the bed is creaking from your movements. he comes undone with a sharp moan, his body laying limp against the pillow, but oh dear, your not done with him. Your sure he can handle just a few more rounds for his daddy, cant he?

#✦honkai star rail! #✪fics! #✪anon! #dom male reader #dom reader #sub honkai star rail #sub hsr #dom gn reader #sub character #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #sub sampo #sampo smut #sampo x reader #sampo koski #hsr sampo #raah so sorry it took so long anon

[tteokdoroki]

happy valentine's day!! thank you so much for your lovely writings ❤️❤️ may i swipe spicy (breeding kink :3) for nagi + ring? thank you again!! i hope i'm doing this right ;-;

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SEISHIRO NAGI. swipe spicy: bound forever.

about. boom, it’s a match! after a perfect proposal, nagi decides to make you his forever in a more sinful way ( 2.3K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, characters aged up to 20s, established relationships, engagements, light choking, cum play, unprotected sex, breeding kink, pro player!nagi, fem!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

seishiro nagi is effortlessly good at everything. 

with his friends — his aloof charm and easygoing nature is enough to keep them entertained. they don’t find his shy and laidback nature too off-putting or boring. with soccer, his talent is natural — born from nothing but a spark of interest. when he’d first started, nagi was a level above the rest without any of the extra hard work and training…but he’d craved to be better, to win above everyone else. so, at times, soccer was worth the hassle.

and with you, well, being with you was as easy as breathing air. 

effortless is exactly the word the white haired striker would use to describe his relationship with you. on good days and bad, you and nagi fit together like perfectly made pieces of a puzzle. there’s something about the way that you love him, that motivates nagi to push himself past his limits. he’s better because of you, wants to be better for you — always. there is no feeling of hassle or tiredness when it comes to making you happy, your laughter fills nagi with life and a passion akin to what he feels whenever he’s on the pitch.

seishiro has no idea what it is about you that made him this way. but what he does know now is that he can’t live with you — the way you smile at him, hold him, love him, kiss him. it’s something he can’t bare to be without now that he’s tasted what it’s like to live life with you by his side. that’s why he finds the courage to propose to you on Valentine’s Day — uncharacteristically serious and nervous as he sinks down onto one knee in the cosy corner of that restaurant you like. 

what if you reject him? what if you say no? bringing back the ring would be a hassle but the thought of losing you is even worse…

though, when you realise what’s going on and your eyes light up with such undiluted love and adoration — the words of little speech nagi had prepared for this moment slip from him easily as if he had been born to ask you to marry him. to be with you forever. and now, for the rest of your lives — you will always be his and seishiro nagi will always be yours. 

a promise that is commemorated with the biggest and most blinding diamond ring nagi’s hefty soccer player paycheck can buy. 

romantic dinner plans were quickly thrown out of the window as soon as your engagement ring took residence on its rightful finger. after ringing up the bill and abandoning your half-finished meals, the both of you find yourselves stumbling home to celebrate the beginning of forever. your movements are frenzied and fuelled by the high of your engagement as you make it over the threshold, hands tugging and tearing at the fancy clothes inconveniently in the way while your lips meet in passionate, ravenous kisses — your tongue running over nagi’s pearly white teeth as he pours hungry moans and love and adoration into you.

“sei—!” you whimper, soft and needy as your back hits the wall behind you. your newfound fiancé uses the entirety of his strength and height to lift you into his arms, wrapping your thighs around his slender waist whilst his hips pin you to the cold surface. lines between love and lust are quickly blurred when the heavy outline of nagi’s dick presses against the treasure hidden between your perfectly plush thighs — your dress pushed up just enough to reveal them to greedy cool-tone grey eyes. “seishiro…mph, i love you…”

“y’love me, angel?” the striker’s entire body trembles with pride at the way you call his name, keening into his closeness and the way that he towers over you. your fingers rake through his silvering hair, the band of your diamond ring icy on the back of his neck as you tug him even closer as though his proximity is not enough. “s’that why you’re gonna marry me? let me…fuck, let me have you forever?” nagi coos his sinfully words quietly, tucking his face into the alcove between your neck and shoulder — kiss swollen lips dragging over your heated flesh and fluffy white lashes fluttering against the spot as well. 

you’re so soft, so warm underneath him and nagi can hardly resist the siren’s call of your body — ripe and fresh for the taking, much like the fruit in adam and eve’s garden. he can’t help his innate desire to take you, and it’s just a little bit frustrating. 

his dick pulsates behind the layers of boxers and slacks, desperate to be sheathed within your silken walls. and in response, you clench around nagi’s tip through your thin cotton panties almost as if you’re coaxing him into making love to you. right here, right now. each time he drags his hips back and forth, slow and steady, against you, your thighs tighten their grip around his waist and your body twitches to life in seishiro’s hold. his chubby erection, leaky and hard, slides through your panty clad folds at your sensual bump and grind, only adding to your exertion. 

“‘m gonna keep you as mine...” blood rushes through seishiro’s ears and shoots through the rest of his lean body, carrying adrenaline and lust hormones via the red blood cells teaming under the surface of his skin. he needs you, he can hear how much you need him too. it’s evident in the way you gasp and mewl out for him — your own body following your fiancé’s lead. 

“uh huh, wanna be yours…” the tail end of your words fall away into a whistle tone whine, layering over the sound of a clinking belt and shuffling dress pants which give nagi the room to pull his girthy cock out. 

he noses his way up the side of your face, breathing growing erratic and unstable against your ear as he positions himself at your quivering entrance — sliding into you with very little resistance. “ngh…so t-tight, angel. can’t…can’t wait t’be the only one who gets to fuck you open for the rest of our lives.” seishiro sighs dreamily. his hips jut upwards, filling you up with his milky cock in one swift movement. you stretch around him deliciously, walls rippling around him to accommodate for his size — despite having been taken like this many times before. “don’t…don’t clench down on me like that. s’not fair, you’re gonna milk me ‘n we’ve barely fuck started.” 

the white haired player stutters with both his words and his hips — struggling to set a steady rhythm to the way he grinds into you. like that of a wet dog slipping into his rut. sometimes nagi thinks he’s being selfish, snapping a girl like you up and making you his for the keeping…but it’s times like this — where your cunt squeezes down on his seedy cockhead every time it pulls out of you — that nagi is reminded of his ego. the selfishness that’s been born into him with every play on the field and every precise, lax movement he makes to help you reach cloud nine. 

he can’t stop running his mouth, lustful and debauched gibberish slipping and sliding over his wet tongue as he builds up the momentum behind the forceful juts of his hips into yours. “unless that’s what you want, yeah pretty girl?” seishiro continues to grunt even when the length of his creamy cock slips out of you, running through your puffy folds. “f’me to knock you up… make you take all of my cum.”  your dainty fingers reach down between the slow rolls of your body to push him back in, sending a shudder down your fiancé’s spine. 

no matter how many times you touch him, fuck him, love him… he will never get used to having you wrapped around him like this. dripping so sweetly down his heavy balls. “make you even warmer in here… s’warm and wet all for me. ‘m so lucky. you’re so good.” 

a symphony of wet slaps from skin on skin echo throughout the hallway of your apartment — for every slothful plunge of nagi’s sloppy, seedy dick against your gooey and sensitive insides reverberates in the heated buzzing between your heated and temperate bodies. nagi, and all 190cm of him, curls over you protectively — lips tacked to yours as he chases your sluice, salacious pussy for more than you can give him. an impossible closeness that he craves now that you’ve agreed to marry him. 

it’s ungodly how much control you and the ring on your finger have over him — reducing the mighty, notoriously undefeatable striker to a drenched, sweaty and sex-driven mess. “i want you inside…” pressing his forehead to your own weakly, nagi’s white hair sticks to your skin and his hot, heaving breath coasts over your cherry-bitten cupid’s bow as you speak — dampening the surface. “need you to cum inside, sei. m-make me yours…please!” 

all the striker does is moan low and sexy in response, the husky sound sending thunder-strikes of dopamine across your loved-up brain. all he can think about is breeding you, stuffing you full with so much cum and so much of him that you can’t walk for days. impulsively his hips twitch upwards rapidly,  so fast that your eyes disappear into the dark depths of your skull and nagi’s cockhead bears down on that needy, spongy little spot inside of you. 

everything grows wetter, hotter and nastier. amidst your surprise from the uptick in your fiancé’s usually languid pace, your fingertips on your right hand sink into the broad expanse of his back while your left ( the one with the ring )  suddenly ensnares the colum of nagi’s throat — pulling him down so that your faves are only a breaths width apart. the cooler press of your engagement ban against his feverish skin only eggs him on, driving the pro soccer player to pursue the intoxicating squelch of your count around his thick base, a white mixture beginning to foam there from how vigorously you’re fucking each other.

nagi is loving and lazy, but greedy when it comes to you. he plans to be that way forever, if it means he can witness the look of delirium on your face whenever he has you fucked out like this. and you’re the same, a perfect match, bucking into him as though to match his strong pace — so that you both can see stars and reach new heights of insanity together. 

you’re overwhelmed, the both of you are. senses being worked into overdrive from the way nagi’s cock shines each time he pulls out of your snugg, wet sex to the way that your needy gripes and laments harmonise into the night. “g-god angel, ‘m gonna cum…g’na let go inside’a you…fill you up,” seishiro rambles in warning, losing his rhythm and tripping over his words. he could cream your cunt right now, selfishly reach his high before yours — but nagi loves you; loves the feel of your diamond engagement ring cutting into his cheek when you move to cup his face through the final moments. “spread your legs a little more f’me, ‘m gonna touch you…”

so instead, he pulls back the hood your clit with the hand on the arm that keeps you steady against the wall, and burns the letters of his name into the puffy nub. “‘hmygod, s-sei!” you squeal at the new found pleasure, groping at your man as your head falls back against the wall. it begins to creak under the pressure of sex, tinging nagi’s skin a soft pink while his dick throbs in the warm hug of your addictive walls. “‘m close!” 

“i-i know pretty thing, i know,” spreading the filthy mix of your arousals over your slit while he pumps in and out of you lewdly, nagi whimpers your name loud and proud. everything is so messy, so fucking raw, his shaft is doused in an opaque white that clings to the oretty blue veins spiralling around his cock while your mound seeps and weeps a wetness only he can bring out of you. “you gonna cum? you g’na cum f’me baby? drip d-down my cock…let me cum in you after?” the pitch of nagi’s moans rise in octave until they’re enough to rival your open-mouthed bleats. 

“y-yes! please sei, p-please!” fat droplets of precum and your juices along between your bodies and crudely drip to the floor, and it’s not long before the tickle at the base of your spine becomes a bright spark — your orgasm breaking dawn first. 

waves of your precious nectrar and liquid gold gush from your fluttering entrance before you even realise it — so fast it almost forces the white haired striker out of you. “y-yeah, yeah, yeah…fuck! that’s it angel, c-cum all over me…” nagi’s cock never relents, bullies it’s way through your blistering hot walls to nudge at  your g-spot all throughout the ordeal while the world of colours flashes behind your eyes. 

you’re such a good girl, you’ll be such a good wife — letting nagi use you and continue to canter into you until your rippling cunt push him over the edge into his own high. “c-cumming!” he gasps as if he’s taken a bullet to the chest, thrusting into you as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do — intent on keeping you bred and full. seishrio’s load pours into you like a never ending stream of thick white, warm and viscous as it coats your mound copiously. painting you in his claim. 

he doesn’t budge even as you both fall back down to earth from your heavenly highs — making sure that not a drop of his cum is wasted on anything else except for you. a lazy giggle escapes you as your hand slinks down from nagi’s cheek to his plush lips, leaving a pink-ish (yet pain free) mark from your ring on his cheek. 

“i love you, sei,” you whisper in tired amusement as he kisses the ring on your finger.

seishiro hums happily, squeezing your thighs in his hold. “i love you back, forever ‘n always, angel.” 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

#tteokdoroki #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk smut #bllk x reader #nagi x reader #nagi smut #blue lock x you #bllk x you #nagi x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro smut #nagi seishiro x you #seishiro nagi smut #seishiro nagi x reader #seishiro nagi x you #bllk thirst #blue lock thirst #blue lock imagines #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing