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gracefall-mcyt · 2 months

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...SO. Hermitcraft Lifeline AU trailer I made for a class last semester.

Does contain spoilers but they're left vague-ish? Vague enough that I don't think it spoils the experience at all. Go read SlashMagpie's Lifeline AU. Please.

Now crossposted to Youtube!

Notes about stuff under the cut :)

Okay so. I know there are some inaccuracies to the actual fic, major and minor alike. However, this took me around 60 hours to make, and I wasn't able to work on anything else in between because of my deadline. I am not going back to fix things now. I spent the entire latter half of my winter break pretty much just working on this, because, like I said, I was doing it for an assignment.

It was a film studies class, and we had to create a pretend cult classic and then create some creative representation of it. I chose to do an adaptation of Lifeline AU for mine! That's why there are the black frames near the start–originally there was some pretty typical movie trailer text, I just didn't feel like including it here.

I'm going to be real, I would not have been able to get through that project if I wasn't doing it with LLAU. Lifeline AU was my lifeline, in a way. If I had stuck with my original plan, then I wouldn't have come up with such a GOOD final product. I probably would have quit the trailer and settled for a poster. With this, that never crossed my mind. I wound up with a product that I had genuine creative passion for, based on a story that I have immense love for.

@slashmagpie , thank you so much for writing this fic. I have said it before and I will say it again; this is my favourite thing I have ever read. Between its plot, characterization, worldbuilding... EVERYTHING. It's such a beautiful story. It's one of few works to actually make me think, to make me consider what's right and wrong, in a sense. Every time I reread it, even if it's just a small little section (or all of Asking for a Miracle. I'd say that that one has the biggest chokehold on me of the llau fics), I feel myself experiencing the fic all over again.

Going to be honest, I wasn't going into LLAU with any expectations. I found Lost Boys bc i was looking for fics with aliens, and so i decided Empty Oceans would be my "last fic before sleep." I ended up not sleeping that night, spending the next few hours reading through all of the series (aside from Twenty-Eight Days of Delirium, but I did go back to that one later that day), listening to the same song on loop the entire time. I was so engrossed by the story I didn't even notice until I was halfway through Asking for a Miracle.

I rambled on about the fic to anyone who would listen. My best friend, my cousin, my younger brothers, my older sibling, everyone. Eventually, when one day my cousin came over to have a sleepover, I was like. I know you're not going to read it. Would you like me to tell it to you? And she said yes. I expected it to take maybe a half hour. She expected it to take one hour. It ended up taking two and a half. By the end, she said "this sounds like it would make a great movie", so we ended up writing out the script for the very trailer you see above.

My cousin is actually the one who drew the beautiful clock seen at the beginning and on the monks' robes! She gave me permission to use it. I would tag her, but she doesn't have any public social media accounts.

At some point I'll come back and list all the small details, bc I put in quite a few, but for now I'm tired of typing up this post so you'll have to wait :)

Song used is Imaginary Worlds by Tyler K

I forgot where exactly I got the clock ticking sound effect but I will try to find it and link it eventually.

As stated before, this is entirely based on Lifeline AU by SlashMagpie. Go read it if you haven't already, I'm begging you.

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cyberm4n · 2 months

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You've now filled my head with nothing but Alastor and Lucifer brainrot. Any other sharing thoughts you have for them? (I cannot stop thinking about them, I quite literally thought about them sharing me during my entire 8hr retail shift yesterday)

alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 3!

pt1, pt2

this was highly requested, thank you all for the love <3 im tagging anyone who asked/was fine with it last time but now you can fill out this taglist form to ensure you're tagged for future posts!

tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix @reaper-of-light-12 @ambi-squirrelly @hazelfoureyes @meggletoomanyfandoms @afernandez21

cw: angst ig?? idk reader is upset cause they keep fighting, general relationship issues for a moment, smut, reader gets eaten out, there's some light praise and condescension i think, alastor has a master kink, alastor discovers he LOVES eating pussy, there's like a weird sexual tension between alastor and lucifer for the majority of this if you squint, the ending is VERY suggestive

other: not 100% happy with formatting on this but i wrote majority of it on a 6 hour flight so like. you win some you lose some. not proofread that well, i kind of ramble at times too but it's fine. 2.1k word count and half of it is formatted in a headcanon cuase, again, lazy 6 hour writing. i also don't use the bolding and coloring that much cause it'd be a lot of work.

left the ending a little open, will probably do a poll tomorrow on if people want me to take this that direction.

■ okay so sex aside i would think outwardly everyone knows you're in a relationship with lucifer at the very least

■ but it's kept lowkey with the other part of the relationship

■ which both are fine with btw

■ lucifer loves pda so he's happy, alastor isn't a fan so it's whatever

■ the public part works out because alastor would genuinely be worried about someone trying to use you to get to him

■ it's bad enough that it's known the king of hell has a new partner, but nobody knowing that if they fuck with you they're fucking with the king of hell AND the radio demon is a silent advantage

■ if anyone knows, it's charlie. but only to the extent of like the fact it's a hinge relationship, everything else she doesn't know and honestly doesn't need to know

■ she's just happy her dad seems happy and is getting along better with alastor

■ i think alastor is the kind to really start caring during the relationship vs. lucifer caring about you deeply before

■ so occasionally alastor will pull you aside, or if no one is watching will just press a quick kiss on your forehead.

■ meanwhile lucifer is always making it known he's in love with you

■ arm around your shoulder, holding your hand, everything

■ again, alastor doesn't really mind unless lucifer decides to be an ass abt it

■ look they still compete with each other sometimes they can't help it

■ then it becomes a game of how much the other can get away with before you either get upset or it's too telling

■ that's the other thing is like, the competing gets really fucking annoying to you

■ we saw them in hells greatest dad it wasn't a want to be a better dad it's just wanting to out do the other

■ and when it transfers to your relationship it gets agitating fast

moving on

■ relationship side alastor isn't as involved with that

■ but if either of them did something that upset you or like there was a lovers quarrel between you and either side it's a big deal to them

■ especially if you're only upset with one half of the hinge

■ cause like, sure, they could compete with each other and purposefully drive you apart

■ but tbh.. both of them lowkey like this arrangement much more than they thought they would

■ so they end up talking to each other about it and figuring out what to do

■ same if you're upset with both

■ not that you're upset often it's just that when you are it's usually cause they crossed a line in their little competition

■ and they hate making their girl feel like a prize to be won :(

■ whatever their solution is, they do it together.

■ show you they can get along, that they both care about you enough

■ you're in your room, a bit of a blow up happened earlier after they got into one of their arguments

■ it's not that you genuinely think theyre using you to get to the other but sometimes with the way they act it's easy to doubt

■ anyways, they both come in, it's late

■ i cry when im frustrated/upset and i think it's a pretty normal reaction, so let's just say you're crying a little

■ they're both immediately at your side, apologizing profusely

■ you've never cried like this before

■ it scares them. alot.

■ for once there's absolutely no competition, the only worry is making you feel better.

■ both sitting next to you on the couch, lucifer murmuring how much he loves you, and how he knows how much alastor cares for you

■ i hate the whole "alastor doesn't understand emotions" thing because he does. he has to, he knows how to read people well.

■ it's just he hasn't ever comforted someone

■ he doesn't know what to do when someone he cares about is upset

■ so he's glad lucifer is here, as alastor just sits at your side nodding along and gently rubbing your back

■ alastor only tunes back in when lucifer offers to give some space for the night, and a little murmur from you agrees but asks they both come to bed that night

■ given its usually only lucifer who actually sleeps in the same bed as you alastor is surprised

■ but lucifer is beckoning him out for some space.

"cmon, we'll be back in an hour yeah?" he chimes from the door, and with a squeeze of your shoulder alastor is out of the door, but he opts to walk along with lucifer. "we gotta do better" lucifer sighs as he walks, not looking over at alastor. he's not accusing alastor, he seems equally disappointed in both of them.

"for her?" alastor adds, and lucifer gives a hum of agreement. "this while ordeal has been quite... stressful as of late, no?" alastor adds, "to our own faults, yes" lucifer murmurs, giving a sigh. alastor nods, and the two men walk in silence for some time, ending up in the parlor, husk far since gone to bed. "want anything?" lucifer pulls alastor back to reality once again, he's standing behind the bar while alastor had been staring off, his mind running with thoughtd of god knows what.

"whiskey, my friend?" alastor suggests, and giving it a considerate thought lucifer pours two glasses. the silence falls over them again, just the sound of the clink of their glasses on the counter.

"so tell me, how do you do it when you pleasure her?" alastor breaks the silence, lucifers eyes dart up to him. thinking for a moment before replying "i don't really think tonight is the time for that—" lucifer says, but in a gentle tone.

"no no, in the morning." alastor says, staring down at his glass. "you two indulge often in the morning, correct?" alastor says, now his eyes uncomfortably on lucifer. Watching as the other man almost pales a little, swallowing thickly.

lucifer immediately falters, giving a sigh. "look it's not— i‐ that's not her fault–" lucifer immediately starts, assuming this is a confrontation. his eyebrows raise as alastor shakes his head. "oh please, if i had problem with it i would have done something" he says, a static crackle echoing through the room. "no, i want to know how you do it when you... when it's just about her. how can i do the same?" alastor asks, and this is even more surprising to lucifer than this whole fucking idea in the first place.

■ so lucifer of course explains some stuff to him, of course it's hard because unless he's done it before it's hard to articulate some of his "moves"

■ i mean lucifer can hardly resist going down on you everytime, he's definitely experienced but it's hard to transfer that knowledge at times

■ but he's impressed alastor even asked

■ so when they return to your room, they're a lot more calmer with each other than before.

■ that night changed a lot between them tbh

■ it's slightly awkward for both of them when everyone gets settled in the bed

■ you're on your back, lucifer on your right side and alastor on the left.

■ they're both holding you to the best of their abilities

■ lucifer gives alastors hand a squeeze before shuffling it to have a better grasp on your waist

■ you all peacefully sleep through the night, not shifting much but it's pretty comfortable

■ is the morning you're mostly cuddled into alastor, which is entirely lucifers doing

■ when you're all awake though alastor gets arguably nervous

■ but you being you, you slump over onto alastors chest, murmuring some affection to him

■ lucifer gives a nod, it's time.

■ he'd honestly probably move to get out of bed, assuming some privacy is wanted

■ but he feels a shadow wrap around his forearm, it's a light pressure

■ alastor shakes his head, mouthing a small "please"

after lucifer processes for a moment what exactly is about to go down, he's okay with that. he settles back in, his eyes on the two of you as alastor tilts your chin up, pressing a kiss to your lips. "my dear, would you mind if i tried something a little different with you?" alastor chimes, and you blink your eyes open again, still a bit sleepy as you give a nod.

he gently maneuvers you on the bed so you're laying on your back, his hands pawing at your sleep shorts and pulling them to your ankles. lucifer watches, honestly a little mezmerized by the whole ordeal. he feels proud in an odd sort of way. “I think our little doe deserves a treat, would you like that?” alastor murmurs as he spreads your thighs open. You take a shaky breath before murmuring some form of agreement, maybe even a little plea.

without further prodigy, alastors finally leans down his tongue swiping down your folds, hands grasping your hips to pull you to his face. your hands go to hold lucifers, but he shakes his head tutting at you. “ah ah, that’s not very polite princess” he chides softly, guiding your hands to alastors hair.

and alastor makes good use of the tips and information lucifer gave him, his tongue plunging into your sweet little hole as his nose bumps your clit. his eyes wander up, making eye contact with you as he eats you out so wonderfully. you tug at his hair and he practically growls in pleasure, opting to change tactics and focus his mouth on your clit while his fingers slide inside you, gently curling into your sweet spot.

and lucifer watches it all, absolutely mesmerized. he doesnt know what it is about watching this but theres something about knowing alastor is doing exactly as told to in this scenario that makes lucifer feel warm. he lets alastor steal the show, doing only minimal work. maybe hes softly cooing praises or gently reminding you to show your appreciation to the one making you feel this good.

as you get close, evident by the murmur that falls past your lips, alastors eyes snap to lucifers for a moment, and he takes a moment to think before understanding. usually when youre close alastor is all over you, telling you to be such a good girl and cum, just slight praises and coaxing. given the fact hes face deep in your sweetness he cant really do that, so that job is up to lucifer now.

“isn’t alastor doing such a good job duckling? you want to make sure he knows how good hes treating you, dont you?” lucifer coos, scooting in behind you on the bed so you stop trying to writhe away. “I think he’d be so disappointed if you didnt cum for him, you think you can do that, hm? you wanna cum all over your masters tongue?” lucifer says directly in your ear, and alastor feels a bit of a warmth in his stomach by being referred to as “master”

when you give a weak moan in response lucifer sighs, shaking his head. “be a good girl now, you can do it little doe” he says which is what sends you toppling over the edge, your hips rutting up into alastors mouth, whiny moans coming from you as alastor desperately licks up your sweet release. this whole thing was quite enjoyable for alstor, but hearing lucifer call you “little doe” his petname for you made him smugly satisfied.

after some aftercare which mostly just involved more cuddling, alastor feels satiated enough to shift to leave, before getting a look from lucifer. he reluctantly stays, feeling as you come to lay at his side once more. lucifer seems to take note of something, giving alastor a nod down, he glances down, seeing the obvious tent in his pants. alastor looks back up, slightly annoyed. a like “yeah, no shit dumbass” kind of look is exchanged.

alastor looks back down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sigh happily. but alastor tenses as he feels a hand on his knee, shooting a glare to lucifer as he traces his hand up a little. the two meet as and alastor takes a shaky breath as lucifer leans in just a little, breathing out the next few words with a calmness alastor admires:

“just keep cuddling her”

#lucifer smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar #radioapple #alastor the radio demon #alastor x lucifer #smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer

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seulszn · 2 months

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Listen I love TLOU and the fandom very much but a lot of people (not calling anybody out) need a reality check and need to grow up. I wanna say my two cents on things that bother me in this fandom.

1. Boycotting for Palestine

I have seen multiple times on multiple occasions where people would sit on their phone and complain about why writers are “flooding the tags with this boycotting bullshit” and honestly all I have to say is your super childish you can’t take a hour or a week out of your day to raise awareness on a important topic that is affecting millions of people? Your so horny so down bad for pixelated characters that you don’t care about the innocent children, women and men that are dying in Palestine? The boycotting isn’t gonna stop just because you want your needs filled, the boycotting isn’t going to stop because you think it needs to, it’s not gonna stop until Palestine is free. And if you wanna read things that bad then read nobody is stoping you but a take into ignition that if a writer is spreading awareness then don’t be ignorant and say stupid shit

2. Less Sex and more angst or other genres.

Listen I love Abby and Ellie just like everyone else and I read a lot of smut about them but does that all y’all see when y’all look at them? As sex objects? Like I’m not saying that you should stop writing smut for those characters but write other things to that don’t involve smut, like angst I see a lot of people under that tag say how they wish writers would as write other things that isn’t just smut and majority of the time when they say that they get hated for it. It lowkey gets boring reading fanfics where the whole plot is smut, smut, smut. And again I’m not saying to stop writing smut but please for the love of whatever you believe in write other genres.

3. Black inclusivity

As a black writer and a black person TLOU tag isn’t inclusive enough. I know you must be thinking “Why are we speaking about this again?” Because I’m honestly so tired of how uninclusive the fandom is like I said before Ellie dates WOC if you don’t know what WOC is it’s Women Of Color all of Ellie’s girlfriends where WOC now I’m not saying you can’t write for Ellie as a white person and I’m not saying that never did all I am saying is once again all of Ellie’s girlfriend where POC

Riley was a Black African American who Dated Ellie

Cat the girl who wasn’t mentioned alot but is in the game is Asian American who also dated Ellie

Dina is a Jewish (Mexican, Middle Eastern ) American who dated Ellie

Also yes we know when the reader is white coded so don’t try a put that you don’t mention when race mentioned cause you do and we can tell when you do “She’s Petite and cute with her long blonde hair” or whatever you bitches be saying we know when you guys aren’t inclusive the whole point of fanfiction writing is to be inclusive is to make sure that readers can see themself in your xreader so if your putting all these “white things and then labeling your story as “the readers race is not mentioned” or that OC stuff that y’all do then just label the story as a white reader or a OC reader

4. Futa, trans and masc

Now here I’m gonna discuss two or three things starting off with Futa and Trans. Now I don’t know when “Futa” or “Trans” Ellie and Abby came from but a lot of you readers need to understand and learn the difference between the two because they are both very different things.

Futanari: is the Japanese word for hermaphroditism, which is also used in a broader sense for androgyny. Beyond Japan, the term has come to be used to describe a commonly pornographic genre of eroge, manga, and anime, which includes characters that show primary sexual characteristics from both females and males. In today's language, it refers almost exclusively to characters who have an overall feminine body, but have both female and male primary genitalia (although a scrotum is not always present, while breasts, a penis, and a vulva are). The term is also often abbreviated as futa(s), which is also used as a generalized term for the works themselves.

Transgender (often shortened to trans) is someone whose gender identity differs from that typically associated with the sex they were assigned at birth. Some transgender people who desire medical assistance to transition from one sex to another identify as transsexual. Transgender is also an umbrella term; in addition to including people whose gender identity is the opposite of their assigned sex (trans men and trans women), it may also include people who are non-binary or genderqueer. Other definitions of transgender also include people who belong to a third gender, or else conceptualize transgender people as a third gender. The term may also include cross-dressers or drag kings and drag queens in some contexts. The term transgender does not have a universally accepted definition, including among researchers.

Mind you I am not transgender I am nonbinary but I see a lot of transgender people speak up about how offensive it is to write a character as Transgender but it’s not really transgender but a Futanari remember a Futa is a character who is assigned a gender at birth but just has extra sexual parts like a penis.

Now another thing that bothers me is how y’all Masculinize Masc Lesbians as if they still aren’t women themselves like every time I read a fanfic with Ellie or Abby or even Vi and Sevika from Arcane you guys like to ignore they fact that they are also women themselves like it’s not gonna kill you to give those characters feminine compliments there shouldn’t be a reason why your calling these women “handsome” or other Masculine compliments and also a lot of Masculine women where makeup it’s not just a feminine woman thing. Masc Lesbians are women they aren’t men so stop treating them as if they are men and ignoring the fact that they are women

5. the Innocent childish reader gotta stop.

They title says enough I don’t think I need to say too much but a lot of y’all get innocent and corruption mixed up but a corruption kink is When you find the idea of "corrupting" someone, mostly in a sexual way, like taking virginities or introducing people to stuff like bdsm etc. It's the idea of having someone "pure" do "bad" things under your influence. And innocent is not corrupted or tainted with evil or unpleasant emotion; sinless; pure. not guilty of a particular crime; blameless. (From the dictionary)

Y’all need to understand yes not everyone knows what sex is but everyone knows what a vagina is what a penis is, what a orgasm is and what sex is but they may not knows what happens when you have sex so making the reader what y’all call innocent isn’t innocent it’s honestly to me perverted cause the only one who would say something like “my cunny feels weird 🥺” or that “what is sex 🥺” is a child. Children don’t know what sex is children don’t know what pleasure or orgasms is and when y’all say “the reader is a Bimbo” is also funny cause Bimbos know what sex is as well yes they may be stupid but they aren’t slow so before you make a innocent reader please think “am I making my reader act like a child or am I gonna make her really innocent like how regular grown ass adults act?” so don't get not knowing and "innocent" mixed up

6. The stories where they have sex inside a church also gotta stop

Now I’m not a Christian but these stories are honestly really bad and are Blasphemy a lot of people have come out and said that they don’t like the fact that people are writing stories about church in a sexual way like their shouldn’t be any reason why your characters are fucking inside a church, that’s like stomping on someone’s dead grave. You guys do shit like this and then wonder why Christian’s don’t like us. Religion isn’t something to be sexualized it’s not something to be playing with either this idc how much you hate Christianity you can be a Atheist, or Catholic or Jewish but please for the love of whatever you believe in don’t sexualize people’s religion.

That’s all I can think of at the moment if I think of more I’ll of course make a part two to this but don’t take anything I said here to heart it’s just my blunt honest opinion on things in this fandom and if I get hate for this 🤷🏾‍♀️

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afterbluehours · 3 months

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Love Bite - Choi Beomgyu

warnings: vampire fem!reader, blood, sex, themes of starvation

note: This came from a super random thought I had one day that Beomgyu would let his vampire girlfriend drink from him and probably get off on it. I'm not a vampire enthusiast so I wasn't down on the lore, but I found out from a friend who loves vampires that their bites feel euphoric so everybody kinda gets off on it? But by then I'd been working on it for most of January and written so much that I decided to go ahead with it anyway. Thank you to my beta readers! (not sure if they want to be tagged)

Beomgyu was slightly scared when he learned the person he's dating is a vampire, as anybody would, while also internally freaking out that he's just learned vampires are real and he's one of very few humans who know. But to your surprise, he doesn't leave. He gets used to the idea pretty fast when he doesn't see any major changes in you or your relationship after you tell him. You’ve always been so gentle, and he knows it’s a character trait and not a disguise when you continue to be caring and nurturing.

Some things start to make sense once he knows, like how he has never seen you sleep, which he never thought was strange before, just seeing you as a late night and early morning person, always awake before him. He can see now how much you've had to hold yourself back; how long it took to get you to agree to go out with him; all the times you'd shied away from your first kiss, how long it took for you to finally let it happen, and the way you’d trembled as he held you close afterward; the frequent long weeks that he'd go without seeing you when you claimed to be sick, and how you'd never let him come to take care of you or even bring you anything during those times; why you never meet his friends. He'd thought you were just a shy, private person who needed a bit more time than others to warm up to things. You were so grateful that he was so patient and understanding with you, sure that anybody else would have gotten fed up with the way you acted and given up long before the year mark. But not Beomgyu.

He began to see how often you let yourself go hungry, determined that nobody else should suffer for your existence. Without hesitation, he offers, no, begs you to feed from him when he can tell you've been neglecting your needs, famishing yourself for the sake of the safety of others. You always refuse his proposals, never even toying with the thought of blurring that line between love and lunch. Until he finds you more weak and dazed than he's ever seen you, flinching away from the scent of him as he enters the room you've secluded yourself to. He begs you to drink from him, replenish yourself, his hands caressing your face, eyes pleading just as much as his voice.

"I know you don't want to hurt me,” he whispers. His fingers are so unfairly warm on your cheeks, luring your eyes up to look at him. “But it hurts me to see you like this.”

In the haze of your desperation, you can't keep your eyes from honing in on his jugular, on the veins that pulse just beneath the skin. He looks and sounds so sweet, and the vulnerable state you're in makes it hard to think straight. His words and his scent cause you to feel dizzy, the mix of these factors and your heightened impulses make you begin to question why you never considered tasting him before. Two states of mind battle inside you–the craze of hunger and your personal beliefs and wishes.

Beomgyu pulls you into his lap on a chair by the window, bearing most of your limp weight. He slings your arms over his shoulders before cradling your head in his hand against his neck, positioning your face at his throat. You can hear the quick thudding of his heart, the throb of his pulse—nervous or excited, you can't tell. Closing your eyes, you let yourself inhale the warmth of him for a long stretching moment. Then, with your little remaining strength, you sit up enough to look him in the eye.

He doesn't look scared or burdened; he looks trusting and devoted. You let your chest fall flush against his to feel the beating of his heart where your own might once have been, reveling in the idea of two being one for just a moment. Kissing him softly, you feel his breath on your face, the steady rhythm of him. He's so beautifully alive, so whole and so fragile. Your rational mind seems to have remained despite the lost fight and the mania you feel as your eyes ask of his surety.

His head nods, and you gently capture his jaw in your hands and let yourself return to his neck. He doesn't scream or cry out in pain when your fangs pierce his skin. The only sound he emits is a sharp intake of breath through his teeth and a groan that he tries to hide under said breath. His body doesn't tense with fear or unbearable agony. You have the clarity to notice these things before the erraticism floods you, faster than the taste of him floods your mouth.

The heat of his blood warms your body as you suck it down, like gasoline on a fire. You had never let yourself imagine how he would taste, never dared to think that you would ever find out. The fire dances hungrily in your belly, crying for more, more, more, and you open your eyes to ground yourself against your instinct. You lick soothingly over the puncture you've left behind as you detach from his flesh, both to give him a break and check over him. His face appears blissful; dream-like eyes opening into yours, and lips parted with fleeting breath. You feel his hands softly grab at your waist.

"More," he breathes out dazedly. Your lips make to rebuff him, but he's quicker to speak. "You need more. Please."

Were you in a more stable state, you'd want to have a conversation about this. But with Beomgyu's words, your natural desire overcomes the memory of your rational thoughts. Somewhere in the back of your clouded mind, you're grateful to have someone who cares about you enough to share their life-force to keep you comfortable. Your tongue laves across the bite to lap up the blood collecting there before you dive back in to begin gently sucking again. Fighting against every urge that sings inside you, you hold yourself back from severing any veins or arteries, willing to cause as little damage as a minimal flesh wound that can be easily staunched to prevent even more blood loss.

The moan that comes from the man below you is jarring; it doesn't derive from pain. Is this normal? His thumbs anchor into the flesh above your hip bones, and he angles his head up further to give you a more advantageous angle, encouraging you. His body jolts a little, causing your fangs to sink deeper, against your intentions, delivering more of his blood to you. You swallow it down before pulling away again with a gasp, dizzy with the effort it takes to stop yourself from guzzling him down.

"Beomgyu… I-"

"Ride me," he whines breathlessly, his eyes as blown out as your own probably are right now.

The sound of the words that tumble from his lips is almost enough to startle you out of your thirst. At first you're not sure you heard him right, you've been out of it for days... But then your boyfriend is closing the gap between you, nose pressing under your jaw as his arms pull your hips against him, grinding you over his crotch, brushing hard and long underneath you, the friction waking another fire inside you.

"Ride me, baby, please." He sounds as if he's never needed anything so badly before, and he's definitely never begged for you this way. A new warmth begins pooling in your belly alongside the blood.

Beomgyu only fumbles a few times while unbuttoning his pants blindly as he offers his lips endearingly desperately to you. Fingers hike up the material of your dress until it's bunched around your waist, grab at your panties and angle them to the side. You hadn't realised how wet you were until he pushed inside with no resistance.

The kiss is broken as the two of you react to the slide of his cock with a gasp and a groan, your forehead dropping to meet his as he pants shakily. Arms reaching under your thighs, he pulls you along his length, then lets you sink back down, until you take over and begin to ride him. Your lips brush over the bite you've left as you move against him and he moans again, hips thrusting up to meet yours.

A gentle hand cups the back of your neck to return your mouth to the site when you don't do so yourself, and you're so tempted to drink again, but you will yourself to believe you've had enough to keep you going until you find another source. Beomgyu is whining at your lack of action, so you settle on kissing the punctures instead, savouring the taste of him as the blood pooled at the site sticks to your lips. You feel him throb inside you at the sensation of your mouth at the area, and he shivers as if all the nerves in his body are connected to that spot.

“Take more,” he says between shaky breaths. “Feels so good.”

“No, Gyu-”

His lips are on yours the moment you pull back from him, so quick to act and so lost in passion he doesn't seem to notice the crimson hue that slathers your lips or the iron tang that they share. His hands are soft on your face now, thumbs stroking your cheek bones; always so gentle with you, as if he were not the one that was fragile, but you. When he breaks away for air, his mouth is smudged with a faint red stain.

His eyes drink you and he looks as in love as ever, just as adoring of you as before he learned what you are. Even now, with his neck punctured and his blood settling in your stomach, he still doesn’t see a monster.

“Gyu,” your moan drags out as your hips bring him deeper inside you over and over. A "You're too good for me” slips from your mind to your lips, followed by, "I don't deserve you."

You could swear you see pain on his face for a fraction of a second at your words. Then his hand is in your hair and he's meeting your lips once again to convey everything he's too breathless to say in this moment. When the kiss is broken, you dip down, your lips travelling over the column of his throat, leaving a trail of kisses and earning more moans from Beomgyu as his head falls back in bliss.

“Don't– ah, don't ever say that,” he struggles to get the words out. “You're… oh god. I love you so much.”

Feeling his stomach tighten beneath you, his hips push up to meet yours, plunging himself so deep and snug inside you. Sparks shoot through your whole body from the feeling and you impulsively wrap your legs around him to keep him there as you quiver with pleasure, walls clenching desperately. There's a broken wail beneath you and you're faintly aware of the sensation of Beomgyu finishing inside you, and his name being called again and again by your voice.

When your vision clears, certain that you would be a mess of tears if you had the ability to cry, you find your boyfriend heavy-lidded and wearing a slight, delirious smile. You're so in love with this human, bewildered by the fact that you don't know what you would do if he were to go away. Or worse; inevitably succumb to mortality, a voice in your head reminds you, causing you to mentally flinch away from your thoughts and focus on your view.

Taking his head in your hands, you try to rouse him from his euphoria. “Are you okay?” Checking him over, you find no sign of excessive dizziness, though his rapid breathing and any lightheadedness in this moment could be from the other activities rather than the blood loss. Taking a better look at the bite you’ve left, reality comes crashing down on you, a hint of panic settling in beside it. “How are we going to hide this? This will take weeks to heal–”

A thumb swiping along your bottom lip brings your attention back to Beomgyu’s gaze. His eyes look a little more focused now as he steps into a reassuring role. “It’s okay,” he coos softly, as though you’re a bird he could spook, that you might fly away, not a creature that had him at its mercy moments ago. “I’ll bandage it and say I got a tattoo.”

“You would never get a tattoo,” you huff slightly, feeling he’s not taking this as seriously as he should. “And when you take the bandage off and there’s nothing there?”

He chuckles, hands running up and down your arms in a comforting way that has become familiar to you. “Then I’ll say I got a piercing, didn’t like it and took it out.” The soft brown of his eyes are so mesmerising, so persuasive that you’re almost soothed out of your unease about the whole thing, and he throws in a kiss to seal the deal. Leaning back, he’s smiling once more. “We’re definitely doing that again.”

Incredulous, you shake your head. You try to shift on his lap and are reminded that the two of you are still connected. “No, Beomgyu–”

“Hey. Look ook at me, love, I’m fine!”

“This isn’t what I got involved with you for,” you say solemnly. It's quite the contrast to your boyfriend's nonchalant and playful attitude, and as soon as he hears the words, he's adapting to you. If possible, his eyes grow even softer.

“I know,” he says softly. He helps you untether yourselves, promising to continue the conversation after you're both cleaned up. In the bathroom, you notice the way he eyes the bite, inspecting it carefully. He doesn't seem phased by the mark at all, his reaction similar to if he'd just nicked himself while shaving. Opening the first aid kit, he's ready to see to it himself, but happily allows you to treat and bandage it when you offer. Once clean and in bed, he resumes the previous conversation as promised, knowing it's important to you.

You're laying on top of him, chest to chest and able to look at him properly–one of Beomgyu's favourite things about you being lighter than humans is that he can cuddle you this way without being crushed. He strokes your hair as you begin again, trying not to be distracted by the gesture. “I don't want to risk ever losing control and putting you in danger. What if I can't stop next time?”

“I understand,” Beomgyu's voice rumbles through your body as he speaks. “But do you realise how much restraint you showed today? While you were starved? If you could handle that without draining me for every drop I'm worth, I think you can handle a sip here and there before you reach the danger zone.”

For every drop I'm worth? Your expression pulls into a cringe. “Don't say it like that.”

A grin flashes over his face before he's serious again. “I trust you. And it’s not just that it feels good, I hate to see you suffering, you know.”

You sigh deeply, too tired and bombarded by logical arguments to find a rebuttal. Now it's you who reaches up to play with his hair, something you know he loves that relaxes him. “You should sleep.”

His eyes close obediently, making you smile. Arms wrap around you, holding you impossibly closer. “You trying to shut me up?” he jokes. “You're lucky to have me.”

As your fingers stroke through his hair, his mischievous smile slowly fades as his face softens at your touch. It's not long until he'll slip into sleep. “I know,” you whisper.

#txt smut #beomgyu smut

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muffymello · 28 days

Text

Night Owl

(Roronoa Zoro x f!Reader)

University AU - A bartender and a barista have a lot in common, except working hours.

1.5k Words

You couldn't help but flop right onto the nearest barstool, much to the amusement of your friends.

It was a long shift at the cafe this morning, rush after rush of students ordering complicated drinks, and on top of it all you had run out of the house coffee beans mid-shift. It was overall hectic, and thinking about it made your head hurt.

You let out a deep breath, trying to relax and join in on the conversation your friends were taking part in, waiting (slightly impatiently) for the busy staff to take your order. Soon enough, a glass with a colourful drink and lime-peel garnish slid in front of you across the bar, prompting your eyes to rise up and meet that of the green-haired bartender who had made it.

"Sorry, I uh- this must be someone else's. I haven't ordered anything yet..."

"Someone bought that for you, looks like you could use it."

Usually someone speaking to you like that would be an insult, but the stress of the day combined with free booze soothed your nerves as you took a sip. Sweeter than what you usually went for, but obviously very strong. Nice. You looked back up to the bartender, who was now making a drink for your friend, to ask him about it.

"Who do I have to thank? And what is this?"

He shrugged his shoulders, quickly replying before flying down the bar to serve another patron. All he gave was some half-assed excuse of being too busy for chit-chat, which got on your nerves just a bit.

No matter, the night was still young, and whoever it was that had bought the drink could reveal themselves if they really wanted to. After that, you bought your own drinks, all from the slightly grumpy green-haired bartender who seemed to be manning your section.

You couldn't lie to yourself, he was quite attractive. The way he worked the crowded place seemed almost memorized, moving robotically and making drinks in an extremely efficient way, albeit less polite than what was usually expected from the profession. When he caught you staring at his arms while shaking a martini, you quickly looked down at your drink again to avoid his cold eyes.

Soon enough, you had drank enough to really loosen up after the hard day. Now you were the centre of attention in your group, making everyone laugh seemed to come easy after a few drinks.

A few of your friends teased you about the secret admirer, but you simply brushed it off. Buying just one drink was no big deal, especially if the reasoning the bartender described was true. Simply a pity drink, courtesy of the bags under your eyes. This had nobody else in the group convinced, still teasing as they all left to dance.

Your sore legs begged you not to join, as did your terrible coordination. You were perfectly content to stay seated at the bar, less busy thanks to majority of the drunk college students taking to the dance floor. You smiled a bit at the sight of the bartenders relaxing a bit after surviving the rush, seeing the same look in their eyes that you had held in your own just earlier that day.

"So, are you free enough to tell me what kind of drink that was- ...?" You searched for a name tag on the bartender's chest, met with nothing but faded old t-shirt to stare at. "Not a drink with a name, really. Just the result of an experiment, was it any good?"

The bartender seemed much more willing to chat once the orders had died down significantly, still not giving his name. "If it isn't a real drink, how did someone order it?" You challenged, leaning onto the bar with a smile. The drink had been quite good, and while you were only looking for the name so you could order another, you weren't the type to turn down a playful remark after a drink or two.

"Nobody ordered it from me." The bartender stated, plain and simple. He turned his back, face unbothered as he hauled a giant, heavy tray of dirty dishes into the back before you had time to ask any more questions. In the time he was gone, you managed to put two and two together that he was the one who had bought that drink.

As you began to blush, taking a second to fix your hair, you wondered his reasoning. He had been so nonchalant about it, you didn't even know his name! Then again, he didn't seem like the type to be buying girls drinks at all. The dumpy bar was affordable for college students, but you were sure they couldn't be paying the student bartenders anything better than minimum wage right now. That doesn't budget into buying drinks for people just because, but before you could think any harder about it he emerged from the back room again, to which you quickly spoke.

"I'd like another of whatever that was, with the lime peel."

"Sure thing."

He didn't even bother to look up. No smile, no flirt, not even a glance. Usually when someone bought you a drink, they had some sort of motive, but this guy just seemed to be focused on what he was doing. While you could respect it as a drink-making employee yourself, it was just... perplexing.

Part of you was slightly disappointed at the lack of attention. Your heart had skipped a beat when you figured out the gesture originally, especially after checking out the bartender before you had even known he was the one behind the gift. When he slid the new drink over, you flashed him a smile of your own.

"I'll cover this one," you joked, taking a sip. This got a small smile, one side of his mouth pulling up, before he looked down again to polish some glasses. Damn.

To hell with being subtle, you thought, asking outright. "Why buy me a drink, then?" At this, he met your gaze. This wasn't a cold look, it could even be mistaken as... soft. Kind.

"Like I said, you looked like you needed it. Tough day?"

While you knew the words really should have pulled some kind of hurt feelings from you, they came off too genuine to be offended by. Instead you went along with his question, giving him the details of your shitty work day and even making him laugh a few times at your overdramatic recount.

By the time your friends returned from the dance floor, his attention had completely moved from his work to fully being invested in you. Still making drinks and cleaning the bar up, but his eyes met yours instead of whatever his hands were doing. He stayed close to where you sat, nodding along as you spoke. Before you could ask for his number or even remember to get his name, your friends had dragged you out to catch the uber with more than enough suggestive teasing about your chit chat with the hot bartender.

In the uber back home, you couldn't help but rest your head in your hands. You had gotten lost in talking, and he seemed so happy to listen. So much so you'd forgotten to get his name or really any information about him at all. The pounding in your head from earlier was back, no longer from the stress of work but at the pathetic lack of charisma you had.

That, along with the opening shift at the cafe the next morning.

You would think that being a barista would get someone into the early-bird mindset, but that was never the case. Shots of espresso had both built your tolerance to the bitter, strong coffee and kept you awake through countless mornings, your coworker the only other lifeline through those 5am shifts.

Today, she was happy to listen to your overtired babbling about the bartender you'd fumbled last night, giggling at your description of the man's green hair and strong, toned arms. You wished you could hate her for how peppy and energetic she could be this early, but the positive attitude had definitely grown on you over the time you'd worked together.

This sentiment was lost, though, when she disappeared into the back room. It was the weekend, which meant less students bombarding the shop to fuel their before-class coffee addiction but still enough people that it was quite the nuisance to run solo.

You grumbled, annoyed at the girl before realizing what she had done. The man waiting at the counter looking confused at the menu was the very same green-haired bartender from last night, looking just as tired as you felt.

Without hesitation you brewed up a latte, pulling out all your little flavouring tricks. Double shot, syrups, even the good cinnamon to dust on top of the perfect milk-froth heart. You approached the register, sliding the cup over to him.

"Someone bought that for you, looks like you could use it."

You grinned, using the very same line from the night before as you saw the recognition cross his features. This time, you had the home base advantage and would not be fumbling this again. "Could I get a name for the order?" You asked, pulling out a sharpie.

"Oh- yeah sure, it's Zoro."

The name burned into your memory, repeating over and over again.

You popped the lid off of the sharpie before scribbling away. What he found while walking out of the shop wasn't his name on the side of the cup, though. It was a phone number, along with a doodled-on heart.

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rubyreduji · 2 years

Text

The Story of Us — jww

summary: now i'm standing alone in a crowded room and we're not speaking… (based on the story of us by taylor swift)

tags: angst, slight fluff at the end, college!au, gn!reader warnings: established relationship, they are so awkward and stubborn, flashbacks to verbal fighting, crying, conversations about healthy relationships wc: 3.6k an: omg is this jj…not writing smut lol but i have such a soft spot for wonwoo and the music video for this song just gave me so much inspiration for lit major!wonwoo

The library is crowded.

You’re not too surprised by this fact, considering finals are coming up, but it's still annoying. Normally you’d just go someplace else but this has already been your third time moving. The cafeteria was too loud, the courtyard was too windy, and you couldn’t even think about being in your dorm because your roommate has people over. At least the library is quiet.

Weaving between the occupied tables, you make your way to the back. There’s an empty table in the back that nobody picks because it’s right under the air vent and is always freezing. Luckily you’re in a thick sweater and just desperate enough to take it.

You’re fairly confident in all of your finals besides your Human Anatomoy exam. You didn’t even want to take that class but your advisor had put you in it as an elective for your major and now you are highly regretting not dropping out.

The table is soon taken over by all of your study materials. Textbooks, your laptop, notebooks, flashcards, pens, all of the like all spread out as you scramble to cram a whole semester’s worth of information into your brain.

You study for about twenty minutes before you realize you need to grab another book. Luckily, you’re in a library, so you stand up and go off to find the book you need. After searching for about five minutes you find it. You grab it off the shelf and head back to your seat. When you get close you look over at your table only to see another person sitting there, diagonal from your own seat.

You stop in your tracks.

What is he doing here?

You know his schedule probably better than you know your own schedule, he should be in class right now, so why is he sitting at your table in the library right now? It’s not even like you can leave, your stuff is there as you’d rather not leave your laptop just to run away from your problems.

After a pat down of your pockets you thankfully find your earbuds and quickly put them in your ears. You duck your head down as you quickly walk over to your part of the table and sit down. You flip the book open right away and get back to studying.

Focusing on your studying ends up being a task easier said than done though, because you can’t think when Jeon Wonwoo is not even five feet away from you.

Wonwoo is your…ex-boyfriend?

You guys never officially broke up.

You guys had a fight and then he left and you cried and you haven’t talked since. It’s been twelve days of complete and utter silence. You haven’t seen him since that unfateful day in your apartment. Partly because you’ve been avoiding him as much as you can, but mostly because you know he’s been avoiding you as well. You tried the first few days, sent him texts, tried to call, even went to his apartment, but after day three you gave up; it was clear he didn’t want to be around you anymore, so you don’t want to be around him. You would have never come to the library if you knew he was going to be here.

You curse yourself for getting so worked up over him, but you can’t really help it. A two and a half year relationship down the drain just because you guys had one little fight and now he’s the closest he’s been to you in two weeks and you guys aren’t even looking at each other.

Ever since you guys had your first day of college meet-cute it was destined in the stars that you and Wonwoo would get together and be That Couple. You guys didn’t fight, you had good communication, you understood one another and made compromises, it was everything you could want in a relationship and more. You and Wonwoo were perfect together, perfect for each other.

That’s why you’re not sure what went wrong to begin with. You don’t understand how you and Wonwoo could go from being the love of each other’s lives to not even speaking. It wasn’t all at once, of course, gradual things you barely even noticed until it all blew up. You can’t remember a time where you haven’t been attached to your boyfriend’s side, now you're too afraid to even sneak a glance over at him, but you can’t focus on the textbook in front of you.

The idea of you just leaving crosses your mind but you don’t want to leave, you want him to leave. You were here first and leaving would show Wonwoo weakness that would reveal how affected you are by this breakup, or it would draw more attention to yourself, so you just have to buck it up and try to study.

Thoughts of Wonwoo start to creep back into your mind though and your resolve finally breaks as you glance over at your ex-boyfriend. You don’t even pick up your head, just flitting your eyes in his general direction. He looks the same as he did two weeks ago. His black hair is styled the way it always is, with his bangs falling over his forehead in soft, shiny strands. He has on his circular wire framed glasses and silver rings adorn his fingers. His brow is furrowed as he glares down at his own notes, most likely for poetry. Yep, that’s your Wonwoo. But is he really your Wonwoo anymore?

When you look away you’re not sure that you’re upset or relieved that Wonwoo didn’t look over at you while you were glancing at him. You think it’s reasonable to feel both.

You’re also a bit annoyed, both at Wonwoo and yourself. You need to study but your mind is all jumbled now. The past two weeks you have been able to push your thoughts of Wonwoo out to focus on your studying but now that he’s so close he’s flooded your mind.

Your fingers start to tap against the top of the table, your fingertips making a sporadic beat as they rapidly drum against the wood. It’s a bad habit you have. You’re poor at sitting still and it gets worse when you feel strong emotions, whether it’s anger, happiness, nervousness, you have to move around. Wonwoo knows this which makes it even worse. You guys know everything about each other which is why you know that he knows that you’re anxious right now as you rap your fingers into the table. It’s why you know that the reason he hasn’t left yet is because he’s also too stubborn to leave. Unfortunately Wonwoo has always been a bit better at setting his personal emotions aside, so he’s probably actually getting work done while you’re sitting here thinking about him.

You’re itching to grab your phone and text one of your friends but Wonwoo always reprimanded you for being on your phone while studying. The only other options are to leave or ask him to leave though, because otherwise you aren’t getting any studying done.

Could you ask him to leave? That would require actually talking to him and acknowledging him though and you don’t want to do that.

Maybe you should just leave. He’s also probably incredibly uncomfortable right now. Maybe the people have left your dorm already, or there might be an open seat at the campus cafe you can take. You take a quick peek back over at Wonwoo to confirm that yes, he’s still focused on his work.

Fuck it, why do you care what Wonwoo thinks anyways? He obviously doesn’t care about you considering how the past twelve days have been going since he walked out on you.

Once you close the lid of your laptop you’re already set into motion. You collect your items and shove them into your bag before slinging it over your shoulder. You start to walk away when you feel your phone buzz. You pull it out of your pocket and the message on your screen makes your breath hitch.

wonu!!!: Please don’t leave

“I don’t understand, it’s like you want me to read your thoughts! Hate to break it to you, but I can’t do that!” You aren’t sure why you and your boyfriend are fighting to begin with. You guys rarely fight to begin with but this one has gotten out of hand to the point it’s a full on screaming match. You’re grateful your roommate isn’t home and you just hope you don’t get any noise complaints later.

You’re not sure what started it, some offhand comment by one of you that you can’t even remember. It then lead into more passive aggressive comments and more words thrown at each other until you guys got to where you are now. Wonwoo is clearly more mad than you and you’re just doing your best to defend yourself at this point.

It’s a stupid argument, something about being overbearing but also not giving him enough attention? Wonwoo isn’t someone who is very open with his feelings so sometimes it’s hard to know what he wants but you try your best to keep up, but right now you’re more confused than ever.

“You’re just always around him, would it kill you to spend some time with me? I’m your boyfriend for goodness sake!” Oh great, now he’s getting into his jealousy thing.

“We are friends, Wonwoo! Friends! I like to spend time with my friends, especially when my boyfriend doesn’t seem to want to spend time with me!” You fire back at him. He’s the one who’s been pulling away, always seemingly too busy for you these days.

“Oh don’t blame this all on me!” Wonwoo spits the words at you.

You sigh. You’re tired of fighting, of yelling. Your voice is quiet as you speak your next words. “Woo…what are we doing? Can we just calm down and talk this out?”

Unfortunately your boyfriend doesn’t share the same sentiment. “How about you just listen to me for once!”

“I do Wonwoo! I do! ‘Y/N give me space’ I give you space. ‘Y/N do this with me’ I happily join. I just don’t know what you want from me anymore.”

“Don’t make this all about you Y/N! Can’t you just be a good partner for once?” You were trying so hard not to get upset but Wonwoo’s words cut deep. The times you spent waiting for him to come pick you up for your date only for him to text you hours later saying ‘something came up’. The days you would try to take care of Wonwoo only for him to push you away, claiming you were being a nuisance. You always had to read between the lines with him and as difficult as it could be, it didn’t stop you from trying.

“For once? What do you want me to do Wonwoo? I can’t revolve my whole world around you! You’re being difficult. Just communicate with me, tell me your feelings for once without me having to guess,” you’re begging him at this point, your voice tired and strained.

“That’s how you feel huh?” Wonwoo’s voice is low now and it scares you even more than the yelling.

“What?”

“I see how it is. Well then, I think I’ll be leaving.”

“Wait, Wonwoo no!” Before you can stop him though he’s already out the door. You want to chase after him but instead you just fall to your knees, tears freely flowing down your face.

You’re not even sure if that’s how the argument went, it probably isn’t. There’s most likely bits and pieces missing, words that you think were said that were actually other variations. The whole fight was a blur up until the moment Wonwoo walked out the door. It was stupid and petty and neither of you should have let it get so far.

Looking back down at your phone you’re torn. You could walk away, give Wonwoo a taste of his own medicine, or you could go and sit back down. You don’t know what will happen if you do. Will he leave instead? Will he talk to you? Or does he expect you guys to just go back to ignoring each other while trying (and failing) to study?

As strong as you want to be, to be able to leave and forget all about Wonwoo, you and him both know what you will do. Your legs move on their own as you make your way back to the table. You sit down and don’t look at him, you just simply get your study materials back out.

As you organize your materials on the table Wonwoo stands and packs his own things before walking away from the table. You want to cry all over again. There he goes, leaving once again. You might as well leave too, you know you won’t be doing any studying anymore today.

Instead you pick up your phone to text Jun and Minghao about what just happened. They both respond quickly with concerned texts, asking if you’re okay and if you need anything. You’re not sure what you need. A hug? A good cry? Your boyfriend to talk to you? You text them back saying you’ll be fine for now but you’ll keep them updated if things change. They know you’re lying but they let it go out of respect for you.

You pick up the book you grabbed earlier and bring it back to its correct place on the shelves. You just hope that this exam isn’t going to tank your grade too badly. You sigh to yourself as you walk back to the table. You start to repack all of your things when a cup is set down on the table.

Your eyes travel from the hand holding the cup, up the arm, to the shoulder, past the neck, until they land on the face of Jeon Wowoo. “Your favorite.” He nods down at the cup. Your eyes flit back down to the plastic cup. He must have gone to the cafe next door to get you something to drink.

He pulls his hand away from the drink before sitting down in the seat across from you this time. Your eyes keep bouncing back and forth between the cup and Wonwoo’s face.

“Can we talk?”

“We’re uh, in a library.” You curse yourself for how stupid you sound when you open your mouth.

Wonwoo just chuckles at your words instead. “Well then, I guess we should get out of here then.” Wonwoo stands again and reluctantly you do as well. As you two start to walk out of the building he grabs your backpack from you, slinging it over his own shoulder instead. It’s not an inherently romantic gesture but it’s a caring gesture and it has you feeling conflicted once again.

You two walk in silence as the cup in your hand goes undrunk. Just as you’re about to ask Wonwoo for your bag back he starts to talk.

“How have you been?”

“Awful.” You don’t mean for the word to slip out of your mouth, but your filter has always been a little loose and you’re a bit impatient at the moment so you can’t seem to help yourself.

“Yeah…I’m, I’m uh, sorry…about that.”

The awkwardness of the conversation makes you angry and you don’t know why. You’ve been waiting for this moment for over a week now and he can’t give you anything in return. You’re tired and if he wants to keep being emotionally repressed then you don’t have time for that anymore. “Yep. Well if that’s all then I’d like my bag back.”

“Y/N wait, please.”

“What do you have to say Wonwoo? If you don’t remember, you’re the one who left, not me. You’ve ignored me for twelve days and now you want me to stay? When you couldn’t even do that yourself!” You feel your throat tighten as you will the tears in your eyes to not start falling. You can’t even tell if they’re angry tears or sad tears, probably both. “I can’t keep doing this!”

“Look I know, and I’m sorry! Please, I just want to talk. I know it’s a little late for it, and you truly don’t owe me anything, but I’d really appreciate it if you would hear me out. Only this one time and I won’t bother you anymore.”

You’re silent for a moment before sighing and sitting down on the bench near you guys. Wonwoo quickly follows after you. He turns to face you, so he can make direct eye contact.

“I’ve been…an awful boyfriend to you. I’m fully aware of it and I’ve been kicking myself over it for months now. It’s always been us, you know? You’re my best friend and you’ve been this continuous presence in my life, and I’ve taken advantage of that. You always take care of me, do things for me, listen to me, continuing to give while not always taking in return. I honestly don’t deserve you, and I never have, and that’s…scared me. I want to be a better boyfriend but I honestly don’t even know how to.

“You’re so astounding Y/N, and I’m just me. You’re like an angel and not in the way Jeonghan is an angel, you’re like an actual real life angel sent from the heavens. You’re understanding and patient and I’m a mess. I’m so afraid that one day you were going to realize and leave me and I couldn’t bear the thought of that. Then that thought scared me because when did I come so dependent on you? That’s not fair to you and I thought that maybe I should remove myself from the situation? Make you realize you deserve better? I’m not even sure, but I did nothing but hurt you even more.

"The past twelve days have been awful for me and I should never have walked out on you like that, but once I did I was worried you wouldn’t want to see me so I just…ignored you. And then a part of me thought that maybe...you'd be better off with me. I'm a disaster and I'm difficult I felt like I was nothing but a chore to you. That wasn’t right though, and I am just so, so sorry Y/N.”

You stare at Wonwoo the whole time he talks. You can see his eyes starting to water and you want to brush his tears out of his face but you find you can’t move or even breath, frozen in your seat. Wonwoo is typically so composed and closed off, it’s strange to see him like this, his voice shaking as he talks at a quick pace, slightly higher pitched than normal.

“Wonwoo…” You reach out to grab his hand. Your throat feels raw but you push on with your words. “You should have told me. I love you, no matter what, okay? Whatever you are feeling we can get through it together, but I can’t help if I don’t know how you feel. Relationships are hard, and I need the communication to make it work,” you tell him.

“I know, I know. I’ve been so stupid and-”

“Shhh, no, baby, don’t call yourself stupid. Everyone makes mistakes, it’s all about fixing them and learning and growing.” You bring your hand up to cup his face, your thumb rubbing against his cheekbone. “Do you need more time, or should we try again?”

“How can you be like this?” Wonwoo’s voice is frustrated and it reminds you of a child when they can’t fully express how they feel. “I hurt you, and I was a bad boyfriend. How can you just put it past you and move on? Why do you even still want to be with me when I’ve been nothing but unfair to you?”

“Do you…want to break up?” The words catch in your throat as your heart sinks down to your stomach.

“No! Not at all! I just don’t und-”

“I’m not just moving on,” you interrupt him, “but I’m willing to give you another chance, because I love you. I’m trusting you to become a better person, and I’ll be there to guide you. It will be hard, and there will still be rough days, but we at least have to try, don’t we?”

You know the look on your face is begging Wonwoo to agree. You hold your breath as you wait for him to respond. He absentmindedly bites at his lip as he looks down at you. He takes a shaky breath before nodding. You exhale in relief and scoot closer to him. Wonwoo wraps you up in his arms and you bury your face in his neck. Your own tears start to fall as you melt into your boyfriend’s body. The relief that washes over you is satisfying and settles comfortingly in your bones.

“I love you,” Wonwoo whispers into your hair before pressing his lips to your forehead. You pull away from him, sniffling a bit and he laughs a bit and wipes at your tears. “I’m going to try, for you. I promise that I’m going to be better. I never want to make you cry again.”

“Only happy tears,” you say and he nods. You lean in gently and press your lips to his. The kiss is soft and tender as both of you try to express two weeks of complex emotions to one another. You’ve missed the warmth that spreads through you when you kiss your boyfriend.

When you pull away you rests your foreheads against each other’s and you smile gently, eyes still closed. For the first time in twelve days your body is starting to feel alright again. You really do think everything will be okay.

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo angst #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo x reader #gn reader #rru.writes #rru.fics #★ sfw #★ taylor swift

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ditto-not-on-discord · 21 days

Text

in less than 60 days, It will have been a year since blaseball was suddenly canceled.

TRUST ME, THE OTHER TAGS WILL MAKE SENSE IN A LITTLE WHILE.

Blaseball, in its 2.867 Years of existence, was many things. but the easiest way to describe it is "Good". It had a very incredible fanbase that still kind of mourns the game to this day. the devs had a panel at GDC in 2022. It was nominated for a Nebula Award for Best Game Writing in 2021 and also the "Best Video Game" at The Hugo Awards in 2021. It won the Nuovo Award at the independent games festival in 2021. people could observe the games happening, gamble fake money, and also affect how the story and the characters would develop at certain points. It was a great game, that sadly was canceled because the cost that was needed to run the game was too high for the team at the game band to support, at least according to wikipedia. It being dead is also a major part in proving that there is no justice in the universe because of it not being here, yet SILENT HILL ASCENSION SOMEHOW HASN'T KICKED THE BUCKET YET.

Now for all Silent Hill fans who have blocked that game out of their memory, and for everyone who has no idea what Silent Hill Ascension IS, here is a refresher:

"Released" on October 31st, 2023 (which was already a bad day for me, but I am NOT getting into that), Silent Hill Ascension is an interactive thing (listen its not a tv show, and it isnt a video game. the developers say that its "the best of both", but lets be honest its more of the WORST of both) that is canon to the silent hill franchise.

people can observe the games happening, gamble fake money, and also affect how the story and the characters would develop at certain points. Yes, I know this sounds EXACTLY the same as what I described blaseball as, but thats because I purposefully oversimplified both games a bit. Silent Hill Ascencion has bland writing (so bland people even thought it was AI), all the mechanical depth of a bad mobile game, and all the horrible microtransactions (loot boxes, a season pass, and something else I will get into later) as well. Blaseball, as previously mentioned, was nominated for several story writing awards, had enough mechanical depth that some fans created a SCIENTIFIC COLLECTIVE TO ANALYZE IT, and at the time it died, NEVER had any micro transactions or a fee to enter.

Remember how both games use fake money? In Blaseball, those who were in the 1% of money havers had all their coins distributed to the other players. In Silent Hill Ascension, you can literally just buy so many "Influence Points" that you can manipulate the entire fucking story, and you can hoard them for as long as you fucking want. Also, Something else I want to mention: Literally nobody talks about Silent Hill Ascension because its so bad. hell, and those that do talk about it DON'T have anything good to say. very few people play it, and there are a shit ton of bots that the devs added so it feels like more people are actually watching. Silent Hill Ascension has reached lower lows than blaseball ever did, and is less than half a year old. So why the hell is it still alive, when a game that did its entire stick better is fucking dead. THE ONLY REASON I CAN THINK OF FOR IT BEING ALIVE IS BECAUSE ITS SUPPORTED BY FUCKING KONAMI.

There is no justice in the world.

#blaseball #silent hill #thoughts #confusion #video games

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byrdtrolls · 2 months

Text

An Aside for The Perfect Scapegoat

Your name is Matise Aphrod, and you are mildly annoyed.

This is how you spend a majority of your time, ever so slightly peeved things weren’t going perfectly. You are looking at a chart of your analytics, Rollyn’s sales, instagrub and television views and engagement, and are disappointed. So her ex boyfriend erased her memory- so Sereni kicked his ass. The most recent scandal had caused a boost in attention, sure. Talk shows couldn’t get enough of it and related tags were trending, but none of it seems to translate into your bottom line- sales. The boost in her collections sales was too small to be called significant. And on top of that, Rollyn keeps telling you she wants to stop doing interviews. Whatever happened to quitting while you’re ahead? She wants to quit when the train’s barely rolling. Suddenly, your phone rings. You glance down at the caller ID, and grin.

“Thought I might be hearing from you” You say. “Before you tell me to stop shit talking you in the media, remember that money speaks louder than words.”

“If we’re to come to some kind of monetary agreement, I prefer to do it in person.” Sunset Blinks answers. “You’ll be down south for the next round of interviews, correct? How about 7pm at The Nouveau Table, Thursday night?”

“Moving a little fast there, aren’t you kid?”

“I have money for you” He answers. “Be there, or don’t.” And then he has the gaul to hang up on you. The absolute nerve of this guy, to think you’d fall for such a transparent, greed motivated ploy. Does he think you’re some kind of idiot?

It’s Thursday night, and you are walking through the open floor plan of a crowded restaurant, to a table where your client's ex-kismesis sits, staring forward blankly, resting his head on his hands.

“Hi” You say, sitting down, leafing through the menu. “You’re buying, right? How’s this place’s steak?”

“Let's cut to the chase” The purpleblood says, not touching his menu.

“I won’t shut her up for less than 15 mil.” You say. “And I wrote down everything that happened, so don’t try to erase my memory, Mr. One Trick Pony. “ You warn.

“Wipe your memory?” Sunset says, sipping the last of his water, and then slamming his glass on the table, shattering the top of it.

“No, I want everyone to know what you did,” He says.

You stare, your hands raising defensively. “Easy kid” You say. “I’m a drinker, I’m twice your size” You warn.

He laughs, which makes you start to think he’s just crazy.

“I imagine you consider yourself very clever, Mr. Aphrod, but your moves are transparent to me” He says, brandishing his weapon. “You think nobody else has noticed the coincidental timing of Rollyn coming forward? Right by the release of her new line” he laughs. “I mean- for fucks sake! You even edited commercials to include mentions of the event!”

“What?” You stutter.

He stabs you. For a moment, you are frozen in shock, then you stumble forward, scrambling to bite the little gremlin, but he’s so wirey. And he moves like a man who’s been in his fair share of fights. And despite your earlier bragging, simply being bigger and a vampire does not automatically make a better combatist. Somehow, Sunset slams you into the floor.

“Next time you want to plan a marketing stunt” He hisses, pulling out the glass and stabbing you with it again.

“You leave the fucking mafia out of it!” He says. “You wanted to extort me? For money? I don’t think you understand your position. This?” He says, holding up his bloodstained stump of glass. “Is a warning,” He says. “I won’t give you another.”

You try to answer- I mean, he’s accusing you of things you actually didn’t do. That never happens! Usually you have done the things, but this is just unfair. But the words don’t make it out your mouth, you’re too busy coughing up blood.

“You and I both know I never touched Rollyn’s memory. I know her well enough to know she’s only doing this on your orders.” Sunset lies, dropping the glass, and throwing up his hands, gesturing up at all the people in the restaurant who have just witnessed the conversation.

“And so does anyone with eyes.” He says.

And then he leaves.

#teehee a short little one #matise gets stabbed so thats cool #stabbing tw #my writing #matise writing #sunset writing #fantroll #fantroll rp #homestuck #homestuck oc #homestuck rp #hiveswap #friendsim #pesterquest

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evilwickedme · 1 year

Note

I saw in the tags you mentioned spideypool fic recs 👂 I'm listening

breaking the DC streak to go to Marvel because fun fact I've been into DC for six months and into Marvel comics for eight years so

anyway a majority of my spideypool bookmarks are from 2015 and I have no idea if most of them are any good which is an interesting problem to have but I still have a solid list for y'all

Say Anything...Except That - I was following this from the first chapter and I'm now mutuals with the author which was very fanboy moment for me (if you're seeing this, hi!). it has a lot of old school fanfiction.net quirks to it which might be a bit difficult to swallow if you've only been reading fic for a few years, but honestly I think this fic is really good and holds up to this day. it's been a while since I read it last but iirc Deadpool has to protect Spider-Man or Peter from assassination attempts and there's a lot of pining involved. also mattfoggy ended up having a nice arc because this was 2015 and Daredevil had just aired (this is technically incomplete there's one chapter left but if I had to reread it multiple times when there were only like ten chapters you can handle it)

under attack - more fics by people who are wayyy too cool to have followed me back and yet somehow did? anyway this is part of stackthedeck's team red slash series (ELITE ship fyi) but this one is spideypool focused and has some nice fluff. fighting as flirting idk what else to say it's golden

#NoPlaceLikeHome - do y'all know ask-spiderpool? you should it's one of the best blogs on this damn website and a must-read for spideypool shippers. anyway this is that version of spideypool's first time together which is cute :D short and sweet basically. sciderman has a lot of fics for the spiderman fandom in general and their ask-spiderpool au in particular and they're all worth reading

Dissonance - another longfic that took half a decade to write about deadpool protecting spider-man from harm. I actually don't know why this trope is so good peter really can defend himself but there you go

Perfect Enough - ohm y gOD this fic series is so good. this au hinges on such a tiny difference in peter's history but it makes ALL the difference. anyway in this world basically nobody has a functional secret identity anymore except for spider-man. meanwhile, wade wilson and peter parker start dating. so much plot, two separate longfics each around 140k, good luck this CONSUMED my life

speaking of consumed, rippling - this is part of a series called Into the Multiverse and is based on the Spiderverse film so it's Peter B. which I LOVE (spideybpool FUCKS). the series spun out of the authors' other series and it is, in fact, a pain to read the main entries in the series without reading the other serieses which means that I did spend two weeks doing little to nothing except reading deniigiq's work, but a. it was worth b. this one can be read as a standalone! wade jumps in front of a bullet for peter b and he angsts about it I love it

finally ahem speaking of Peter B, did you know I've been writing spideypool fic since 2015 and I wrote one specifically for spiderverse? I'm a mess (but I'm the mess that you wanted) is really a mix of spiderverse and comic canon like, five years into the future, and deals mostly with like, depression and suicidal ideation on Peter's behalf, but hey there's also a plot AND a happy polyam ending which, what else could you want really

anyway sorry the list isn't longer I didn't bookmark so many of my favorite spideypool fics and now they're lost in the void forever :/

#my team red or defenders folder is massive but so much of it is just daredevil #randomly I have five separate fics saved for jessica jones/matt murdock and I don't even know their ship name #anyway I accidentally clicked post instead of schedule so have fun with this like three hours earlier than intended #spideypool #spideybpool #marvel #marvel comics #spiderverse #fic recs #marvel fic #gail speaks #ask #anonymous

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bella-rose29 · 7 months

Text

Not Your Lover - Chapter 2

I'm not gonna lie there's not much plot in this other than building up more hate between them but oh well :)

Also apparently I have a thing of writing fake kisses now?

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: swearing

Tag list: @a-candle-maker, @bubybubsters, @el-de-phi, @hauntedenthusiasttragedy, @iambored24601, @itsyoboo-jassy, @karensirkobabes, @kentucky-criedfricken, @little8sun, @mrsklockwood, @mvidaaaa, @nalie-98, @naushtheaspiringauthor, @notoakay, @pietromaximoffsbabe, @simbaaas-stuff

As always, let me know here if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list! <3

Y/n was fuming.

What made Dominik think that he could just waltz into her life like that, making her mother think that the two of them were together?!

She was slumped in a chair in the waiting area of the town hall, leg bouncing and arms crossed as she tried to contain her anger. Surely he was getting something else out of it, right? A man like him wouldn't say no to female attention, Y/n was sure of it. He was a classic fuckboy, all smiles and nice words until he ruined a girl's life for the fun of it. So why did he want to stop that? It was infuriating, not being able to figure out what he really wanted, and Y/n didn't like it one bit. Annoyingly, he was right. Her mother had hinted this morning that Y/n would be getting the grant now that she had a boyfriend, and his offer to work on the building with her was useful (and had been begrudgingly accepted), considering nobody else wanted to. It would be difficult getting the place in a good enough position, but she was sure it would be a piece of cake compared to pretending she actually liked Dominik Opus.

"Y/n? They're ready for you," Sofia said from reception, smiling widely. Offering a smile back (that probably looked more like a grimace), Y/n stood, clutching her papers to her chest.

"Thanks, Sofia."

Pushing open the door, Y/n braced herself for the onslaught.

~~~

Nikolai was quite happy at the moment.

His plan had worked, and while a good number of women were still hanging around, trying to figure out if he was actually taken or not, the majority of them had heard that he wasn't single anymore and had gone home. He'd finally had time to work with Gregor on the carriage that had come in a few days ago, and it was now ready to go back to the wealthy noble that had sent it in. Nikolai had hidden in the back when he came to collect it, the man surprisingly coming in person and not sending somebody to pick it up in his place.

"Well, it looks alright. How do I know you haven't done some Grisha magic on it?"

"I use my hard-earned talents on pretty much everything, sir. I only use my natural ones if I really have to. Besides, I had an assistant who is otkazat'sya and very good at what he does helping me on your carriage." Nikolai's chest swelled with pride at his employer's praise. As a child, he'd been told many times to not pursue his love of machinery, or making things, since it wasn't very princely. Perhaps that was why he'd dedicated so much time to inventions as king; he was the top voice, and technically nobody could tell him what was and wasn't very royal. Being here, in Taya, he could be completely himself (minus the name and some of the backstory), indulging his desire to make things and build, and it was amazing.

"Where is he? I'd like to take a look at him and decide whether he's trustworthy or not for myself."

Nikolai held his breath from his position behind the door, hoping Gregor would come up with an excuse as to why his coworker couldn't be there.

"He's in the back room, I'll just go get him for you."

Fuck. So much for that, then.

Nikolai sprung back just as Gregor opened the door, hoping it didn't look too much like he'd been listening in.

"Wants to meet you. Something about making sure you haven't fucked it up or anything." Gregor's tone left no room for argument. Nikolai nodded, swallowing. Since he'd found out that Nikolai apparently had a girlfriend, he hadn't been too happy, but Nikolai had been working all morning to make sure that Gregor knew that he wasn't going anywhere. He understood where Gregor was coming from, having told him only a couple of days ago that he wasn't interested in girls at all at this point in time, but surely the man could have some leniency?

Pushing through into the main room, Nikolai thanked the Saints and any other deities that he had no idea who this noble was, because he knew everyone that he had had an interaction with as Nikolai Lantsov, and this man in front of him was not one of them.

"Who are you then?"

"Dominik Opus, sir." It felt weird calling someone sir, given only a few months ago Nikolai had been king.

"Right. How long have you been in the business?"

"Pretty much my whole life, sir. Started about 20 years ago."

"How old were you? You barely look 20 years old anyway."

"I was always making things, but I first got into machinery at the age of around 8 years old." He left out the part about how he'd rearranged a priceless heirloom of a clock, resulting in his family grounding him in his room for a month.

"And you know what you're doing?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well I'll take your word for it, Dmitri. If anything goes wrong, it's on your head, boy."

Nikolai bristled at the wrong name, and at the attitude this noble had, and was instantly glad that this man had never been in his court. He did wonder what kind of people Zoya was letting in, though.

"Of course, sir."

The rest of the meeting went without fault, Nikolai stood off to the side while Gregor secured the transaction, and he felt himself relaxing. That feeling left just as quickly as the noble when Gregor turned to him, unreadable expression on his face.

"I think we should talk." He moved in the direction of his office, and Nikolai felt unease creep up his spine. When the door was shut, Gregor sat in his chair on one side of the desk, motioning for Nikolai to sit opposite him.

"Is everything alright? I know what I said about how having a girlfriend was the last thing on my mind, but I really didn't expect-"

"Who are you? Really?"

Nikolai blinked.

"Sorry?"

"I think I know who you are, but I'm giving you a chance to come forward on your own, Dominik."

"Well who do you think I am?"

"I think you're the previous king of Ravka Nikolai Lantsov."

Nikolai blinked again.

"I take it I'm right?"

"Yes." There was no point denying it now, given Gregor had figured it out.

"Do I need to use a title?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Right." He paused for a moment, unreadable expression still on his face as he observed Nikolai. "Why are you here? And why the fake name?"

Nikolai shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "I wanted to be somewhere where it wouldn't matter who I was, where I could hide. I didn't want to stay in the capital, or anywhere like that, but I'm still a valuable target for assassins wherever I go, hence the fake name. Taya? It's small enough that people wouldn't ever think to look for me here, but big enough for me to make a life for myself."

"Why would you ever want that? I mean, you've spent your life in a palace, and now you're in a shitty little port town with zero tourism."

"I like it here," he said, smile on his face. "And I didn't spend my whole life in a palace; I was in the army for years, and then on the sea for years after that. This life is what I want, where I feel most like myself. And machinery has always been a better friend to me than people, so it made sense, I guess."

Gregor sat back now, blowing out a breath. "I suppose that all makes sense. Where'd you come up with the name?"

"Dominik is- was, my best friend," he swallowed at the past tense of the sentence. "Opus is a sort of take on my father's last name, Opjer."

"So you are a bastard?" His eyes went wide immediately afterwards, going to rectify the question at once.

"Yes. Surprising that nobody noticed the lack of inbreeding in my features sooner, really. And if anybody had actually seen him, there would be no doubt that my mother had had an affair." Gregor seemed somewhat embarrassed at Nikolai's nonchalance towards his mother's infidelity, eyes still just as comically wide as they had been before. The man went to speak, but was interrupted by a shout from the main room of the mechanic.

"DOMINIK?" Nikolai winced, recognising the voice.

"I think you'd better answer," Gregor said, smirk on his face. "I'll keep quiet, too. You're too good at your job for me to lose you."

"Thank you, Gregor. That means a lot," Nikolai smiled, pulling open the door. "Hopefully I'm not sacrificed in the next five minutes and I can keep working here." Gregor laughed, the sound echoing in the room as Nikolai let the door swing shut, leaving him and Y/n alone in the main garage together.

"There you are!" she huffed, looking out of breath. "I just came from the council meeting and they've given me the grant, but only for a month, because apparently my project won't be worth any more than that, so I have to get three rooms done by then, and-"

"Woah! Woah, calm down! You lost me past 'council meeting' because you were talking too fast! Slowly, what happened? And why did you sound like you wanted to murder me just now?"

"One: they gave me the grant," she held up a finger with each point she made. "Two: I only have a month. Three: I have to get three rooms ready by that time or four: they're revoking the grant. Oh and five: mother wants you to come to dinner tonight and she made it clear we couldn't say no."

"Well the first bits are positive, right?"

"How can you do that? Smile about only having a month to do this? You've seen that place! One month for three rooms is ridiculous!"

Nikolai came closer, placing his hands on her shoulders to hold her in place and calm her down. "One month starting today, right?" She nodded. "Well then you go and make a start. Did they specify which rooms?"

"No, just said I needed three."

"Okay. You decide which of the three rooms to do, although if I can make a suggestion, I'd say go for the front three for easy access, and when I finish work later I'll come and help. Did your mother say what time for dinner?"

"8 bells. Which makes me think she's cooking enough food for the entire town because we normally eat earlier."

"Well I have a large appetite, so don't worry about that. I finish at five bells, so I'll come over to help afterwards, okay?"

"Okay. How are you so calm about this? It's one month!"

"I'm calm because you're not. If we were both running around like headless chickens, nothing would happen. I'm assuming that if you can get the three rooms done they'll extend the grant?"

"Yeah. They just need some way of generating income while we carry on."

"Right. Well, I think we can do it. If you need anything fixing urgently, just bring it here and I'll work on it in the shop, alright?" She was much calmer now, and Nikolai's hands were still on her shoulders, rubbing soothing circles into her skin with his thumbs.

"Thank you," she sighed, then pointed an accusatory finger at him. "I still don't like you."

"I wouldn't expect anything less. Now go on, get your house ready," he smiled, receiving a glare in return as she stalked out the room. Apparently the moment of softness was gone, and Y/n was back to hating him.

~~~

It was nearly eight bells, and Y/n was close to gauging her eyeballs out.

Her mother hadn't stopped talking about Dominik the entire afternoon, so Y/n had had to hide upstairs to prevent unnecessary injuries from happening.

She'd been surprised at how level-headed Dominik had been that morning, and had been considering rethinking her original perception of the man, but when he then never turned up after five bells, as he said he would, she berated herself for ever thinking that he would be different. He obviously had no desire to be near her, which was why he had never showed, but he'd seemed so sincere that morning it made her heart hurt a little at having fallen for the nice guy act again. He was probably annoyed that she'd invaded his personal space, but then if he didn't want that, why pretend to be her partner? She'd let out her frustration on the weeds in the front garden of the mansion, ripping them up from the ground as she muttered expletives under her breath.

Since getting home half an hour ago, her mother hadn't stopped talking, again, about how happy she was that Y/n had finally found somebody. Seeking an escape, Y/n had run a bath, hoping to have some peace and quiet while she washed off the dirt and sweat from her day. She had stayed in there until her fingers wrinkled, and reluctantly put on the dress her mother had laid out for her. She'd made it clear that Y/n would be wearing it or starving, and she hadn't eaten since breakfast. Hearing a knock on the front door, Y/n jumped, then sprinted down the stairs to reach it before her mother. Flinging open the door, she came face to face with Dominik, looking annoyingly put together in contrast to her own wild hair (made that way by her rush downstairs). She glared at him, hoping he'd understand where he went wrong and would apologise profusely, but his smile never wavered as he leaned in for a hug. Immediately, Y/n flinched, going still as his arms wrapped around her.

"What. The fuck. Are you doing?" she hissed directly into his ear.

"Your mother is at the end of the hall and is watching everything, so maybe look a little less like a brick wall and more like you're actually happy to see me?" he whispered back, breath tickling her neck. Begrudgingly she brought her arms up around his torso, pushing herself up on her toes a little so her face wasn't uncomfortably jammed into his shoulder.

"Can I let go now?" she grumbled.

"Sure." He pulled back before her, but kept one arm wrapped around her shoulders to prevent her from running away.

"Oh, don't you two look wonderful!" her mother clapped from where she stood, painfully oblivious to how they kept pinching and poking the other in the side. "Well, come on through! Dinner's on the table already!" She disappeared through the doorway, leaving Y/n and Dominik on their own.

"I'm going to bruise from your torture," he whispered, yanking off his jacket. "What did I do to deserve that?"

"Where were you earlier? You said you'd come by after five bells and you never showed!"

"I never said that," he frowned, hanging the coat up on the wall. Y/n could only stare in disbelief at his blatant lie.

"Yes you did. You said that when you'd finished work, you'd come and help me. Or is your memory so shit you can't remember making a promise to your fucking girlfriend?"

"You are not my girlfriend," his expression hardened. "I am not your boyfriend, we are not anything. I can remember that just fine. I don't owe you anything, and you don't owe me anything. We're just using each other to get what we really want, alright?" He left then, following the footsteps of her mother, and when Y/n heard him cheerily greet her as though he hadn't just been an ass, she wanted to cry. Sure, she hadn't been the nicest to him, and sure, he'd given her no reason to think that he wasn't the fuckboy she'd decided he was, but he was the one that had come up with this ridiculous charade in the first place, so he could at least fucking try.

Hearing the laughter coming from the other room, she brushed away the few tears that had fallen, then went and splashed some cold water on her face. She refused to let any more tears fall for that man, and putting on a brave face and a fake smile, Y/n entered the lion's den.

~~~

"So how did you to meet?" Y/m/n asked, and Nikolai swallowed his mouthful to answer. Before he could, Y/n had done it for him.

"Just in town," she waved her hand in a way that was just as vague as her words.

"Oh, come on, darling, you can tell her the whole thing," Nikolai spoke up, smirking at her glare. She did that a lot, and he had to wonder if she was going to end up not being able to make any other facial expressions.

"I don't think mother wants to hear-"

"YES! Yes I do! Tell me everything!"

"Why don't you tell the story, sweetheart? Since you seemed so keen for my mum to know?"

Now it was his turn to glare, hiding it behind a sickly sweet smile.

"Of course. I should have known you wouldn't want to tell it, given how embarrassing it was for you." Her mouth opened in indignant shock, and she jabbed him in the side.

"It was not embarrassing for me, if anything you were the one who was embarrassed!"

"JUST TELL ME!" her mother shouted, glee written all over her face.

"Well. I had just come in to town, been settled in for a few days, started my job. It wasn't long before we met, actually," he gestured to Y/m/n. "Darling Y/n here needed something fixing, I couldn't tell you what it was, I was too busy looking at the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life," he glanced over at Y/n, forcing a loving expression into his eyes while she looked like she was trying not to gag. "I thought she was flawless."

"Thought? Do you not still?"

"Well she tripped and fell flat on her face after she saw me, obviously shocked by how handsome I am. Y/n is still gorgeous, of course, but nobody is perfect."

Y/n scoffed. "Yeah, sure, I tripped over because of how attractive I find you," she deadpanned. "You'd left a cable lying on the floor, and I fell over because of that, you shit. Besides, that doesn't even begin to compare to how you couldn't utter a single word in my presence, you were stuttering all over the place, flustered by my beauty." She smirked up at him, shoving a mouthful of food in. Nikolai was seething. He never allowed himself to be unable to speak; he prided himself on his public speaking abilities, and Y/n knew it.

"Sure. Think what you like, darling. That doesn't stop the fact you were totally checking me out while I fixed that thing for you."

"You mean the light? Sweetheart, I think you were the one checking me out given you can't even remember what it was I brought in for you."

"So how did you end up together then?" Y/m/n was leaning forward in her seat, plate of food long forgotten.

"She said no the first time I asked her on a date, but when I bribed her with the promise of paying for everything she accepted."

"As if I would go for that," she mumbled under her breath. Speaking up, she said "He did, as well. He's surprisingly well paid for a mechanic. We went to Marie's place, down by the sea."

"Oh, Saints, that's expensive!"

"What can I say? There's not much I won't do for my love," he looked down at Y/n again, sending yet another fake smile her way. Her mother sighed in happiness, resting her chin on her hands.

"Why don't you two have a kiss?" Nikolai froze, an he felt Y/n do the same from where his arm was over the back of her chair.

"Do we really need to, mum? Can't we just-"

"Why don't you two have a kiss?" Her tone was much harsher this time, although her smile was just as sweet as before, and suddenly Nikolai understood where Y/n got it from.

"Darling?"

"Sweetheart?"

"I think your mother wants us to kiss."

"Touch me and die," she whispered as he leaned in. Rolling his eyes slightly, he brought his spare hand up to the side of her face, covering their lips. He came close enough to feel her breath on his face, and when he whispered into her he felt the ghost of her lips against his own.

"Close your eyes, and try and make it look believable." He closed his own eyes, tilting his head slightly as her hand came up around his neck.

"What are you doing?"

"If you don't want to kiss, then you don't want to kiss. I value my life and I fully believe that you would kill me if given the chance." He pulled back, opening his eyes as he felt his face warm from how close they had been, but when he was immediately confronted by Y/n's glare, the warmth disappeared, and he was filled with cold-blooded hate. What had he done now? He'd done what she'd asked, hadn't he? If this was still about that afternoon, then she needed to get over it. He couldn't tell her the truth, obviously, since it involved admitting he occasionally became possessed by a demon and probably telling her who he really was, and while he definitely shouldn't have lied in the way he did, he hadn't been able to come up with a feasible excuse. He knew that she was close with Gregor, and since the man lived above the shop Nikolai knew he couldn't say that he was working late. Besides, he'd told Gregor that he was headed over to the mansion, and had fully intended on going over and helping when the demon forced its way out and made Nikolai change his plans.

"Wonderful, just wonderful!" Y/m/n exclaimed, and Nikolai couldn't help but disagree.

Chapter 3

#grishaverse #netflix shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai x y/n

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technicalknockout · 6 months

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YOU ALSO LIKE THE HTTYD BOOKS??? HELL YES. i have. been losing it over hiccup the second for. hours. and how hes the whole reason the story of the httyd books YET DOESNT EVEN FUCKING APPEAR ONCE IN THE HTTYD MOVIES. theres no hiccup the second equivalent. what the fuck. i could fit them in so easily. make them background context for why the majority of the archepeliago is hostile with dragons. hiccup the seconds death happened and the whole dragon rebellion happened very far ago leading to this sort of hostility but it was so long ago nobody really remembers and hiccup the second is vaguely remembered but nothing important about him actually is. furious doesnt even need to still be alive for this to work. hiccup the second. hautning the narrative. i like him

Ok first off. AHHHHHHH YES YES YES HELLO FELLOW HICCUP THE SECOND STAN!!!!! i actually watched the movie first and then the book so i was like "wow cool" on the first watch but Oh my god i would be so lying if i said i never once wished for a hiccup the second in the movies. Like i KNOW the movies are basically like a whole different thing from the books after the first one but?? BUT???? Idk im very biased i love the guy. Ik you pointed this out but he really is the reason for literally everything in the books if you care enough to look into it and i really do think him being some sort of background lore in the movies would be so cool.. *digging thru the httyd ao3 tags*

incidentally if you ask me to choose between the movies and the books i would say the books in a heartbeat. i love the movies it's one of my favorites but a) the books made me cry harder b) theres no hiccup the second OR hiccup the first c) the book lore is absolutely golden and ive never seen anything else top it and d) the movies overwrote fishlegs into almost non-existance which. HELLO?? EXCUSE ME???????

#hello mutual thank you for freaking out abt this book with me #also IF. IF you ever decide to write abt the hiccup the second in the movies NOTIFY ME INSTANTLY #and to everyone else: go read it if you havent already please i promise it's worth it. spread the httyd brainrot virus #bonus content:#im so so so angry about fishlegs you have no idea #i think at this point we should all just forget that the movie was based on the book series. it would be better for everyone #it's not even one of those 'bad movie adaption' things the movies are so GOOD!!!#have you listened to the soundtracks holy frick it's THE soundtrack ever #moral of the story. read the books and watch the (completely unrelated) movie #asks

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we-were-so-beautiful · 1 year

Text

1. day five

it's here! the first chapter of my bbu story featuring vanessa + juniper, which I'm tentatively calling "imperfectly consistent". this story is heavily inspired by many of the great pet whump series and other whump writings I've discovered in the last few months, especially those by @maracujatangerine and @whumpzone as well as @justbreakonme , @haro-whumps , @emmettnet and many, many others. this is my first time writing or posting anything like this, so please feel free to send me feedback and tell me what you think!

This entire story comes with major content warnings for drug and alcohol abuse, as well as the standard box boy universe fare: pet whump, dehumanization, conditioning, etc. Individual chapters will have specific content warnings and tags as well; please do tell me if there are any I need to add.

[masterlist] [chapter two]

“Shit. Shit.”

“What’s up?” asks the voice on the video call.

Vanessa clasps a hand over her mouth and breathes out hard through her nose, eyes wide and laser-focused on the middle distance. “Fuck. Okay. You know that… that dude on the shelter site?”

“The one who you said was in there longer than usual?”

“Yeah. He’s still there.”

“Still? How many days has it been now?”

“Five.”

The silence hums between them like a gathering storm.

“I’ve never seen anyone stay there five days before. I, I’ve been watching the site for months and I’ve barely seen anyone get to four. If he doesn’t get picked up by tomorrow…” Vanessa inhales through her nose. “Rose, I gotta do something.”

“You mean like… adopt him?”

Vanessa twitches at the term. “Fuck, no. I’d literally be so bad at being a rescuer. But like… maybe I can find someone to take him? I mean, shit, I could cover the fees for them, I could even pick him up and keep him here until they could come get him, I just… I can’t let a person die like that.”

—

“Listen, this is maybe weird but…”

“...yeah, that kind of Pet. But he’s a rescue, and…”

“...no, you wouldn’t even have to be here by tomorrow, I could pick him up for you and—”

“You do understand this is a seven-day kill shelter?”

“…Hello?”

Vanessa stares hard at her phone. There’s one last call she could make; one she really, really doesn’t want to. But a life—someone else’s life—is quite literally on the line. Desperate times, and all that shit.

She takes a deep breath and dials.

“Hey, M—hello? …of course. Bonjour, Noémie. Is Victoria available today? …no, of course not. What about tomor—right, uh huh, yeah. Okay. Well… I mean, you wouldn’t be interested in adopting a pet, would you? …yeah, of course not, never mind. Au revoir.”

So much for that.

—

They reconvene the video call hours from when they left off, Vanessa spent and Roselle somber. “I called every person I could think of, Rose. I’m so tired.” She looks it: pale, drained, practically vanishing in her chair. “Please tell me you have better news.”

Roselle shakes her head grimly. “I put the message out on rescuetok, but nothing so far. I don’t know if it’s realistic to find someone through there on this kind of time.”

“What about your parents?”

“I’m sorry, Ness. I asked. They said no.”

“Oh, come on!” Vanessa slaps the table a little harder than she means to, jostling the screen. “But they’re so nice! Like, if anyone was going to take a rescue, it should be them! I thought they said they were against the practice!”

“They are, Ness,” Roselle sighs, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.

“Not enough to keep an actual human person from being murdered for it, apparently!” Vanessa stands up and paces back and forth across the room. “Fuck. Fuck! I have to take him.”

Roselle looks up and blinks. “You what?”

“I mean, if nobody else is gonna do it—! It’s not like I don’t have the money. Or the space. I mean, I sure as shit don’t have the personality, but—fuck, dude! What else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“I just… watching the shelter sites was supposed to just be a little thing I could do that mattered, y’know? And now it is so big and so fucking real and, and…” Her hands are flailing past her ears now, wrists and elbows oscillating wildly.

“Hey. Nessa.” Roselle pulls her focus, the calm timbre back in her voice. “He’s still got one more day, right?” Vanessa nods sullenly. “So you’ve got a day. Think about it. Wrap your head around it, as much as you can. In the meantime, we’ll see if anyone else picks him up, or gets back to us, or if anything else that could happen happens. And if they don’t, you’ll be ready.” Vanessa raises her eyebrows as if to protest. “At least, a little more ready than you are now,” she amends.

“You’re right. You’re… thanks, Rose. You’re good at this. You always are.” She tilts her head. “God, I wish you could take him. You’d be so much better at helping him than me. Than anyone, probably.”

Roselle smiles ruefully. “Yeah, not in senior year pre-law. And definitely not in a dorm room. I’ll help you help him, though. You know I’m here for you, any time.”

“You’re the best, Rosarita Beans. Speaking of pre-law, though, should I like… let you go study? I feel like I just took up a whole bunch of your day.” She grimaces.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Like I said, I’m here for you. I probably should go, though, if you’re okay for now.” Vanessa nods again. “Alright then, text me if you need anything, okay? And make sure you sleep before tomorrow, you’re gonna need it. Oh, and I’m guessing you haven’t eaten yet, so do that for me? Okay bye, love you.”

She’s right again, of course. “I’m not hungry,” Vanessa tries to protest, but Roselle has already ended the call.

Well, if she’s going to eat—and sleep, probably, come to that—she’s gonna need an assist. She fires off a text. AUSTIN, it says. EMERGENCY. COME TF OVER.

As you wish, he replies. The weed man cometh.

—

Austin shows up forty minutes later, and she wraps her arms around his waist and hugs him until he chucks her shoulder and says, “Dude, let me in, it’s freezing out.” They climb the stairs to Vanessa’s favorite living room and in short order the bong water is bubbling and pizzas are on their way.

“You know, the nuts thing is, just going off his picture the dude should’ve gotten picked up, like, right away. I mean, lookit ‘im,” Vanessa rambles, poking a finger at the thumbnail next to the number 414374 in the shelter site’s neat little table. It expands to show a man with sharp features, pale skin and blue eyes, with waves of black hair cascading over impressively broad shoulders. “He’s like, super hot, right? I mean or he would be without the brainwashing 'n shit.”

Austin cranes his head down to see. “Yeah, I’d do him. Without the brainwashing and shit.”

“Yeah! So like, here’s the thing right? Dudes who look like that get snatched up in like a day. Two, tops. It’s like… okay this is horrible but it’s like a borzoi at a humane society, you know? They’re gonna be there for like five minutes.”

“You said he’s been there for five days, though.”

“Exactly! So like, what is his deal, man? What could possibly be up with him that would make all the crazy ass pet people not go ‘yeah I want that one’ like, immediately?”

“Dude, yeah. Huh.”

Vanessa laughs around a mouthful of smoke until she doubles over coughing. “Oh, shit, dude, what am I getting myself into?”

#whump #pet whump #rescue whump #recovery whump #bbu #box boy universe #vanessa + juniper #disaster caretaker #imperfectly consistent #tw drug use #tw marijuana #tw dehumanization #tw death mention #I am participating in the time honored tradition of 'posting this so I will stop looking at it'

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gloriousmonsters · 3 months

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I HAVE BEEN VERY VERY VERY CURIOUS ABOUT YOUR ORIGINAL WORK. JUST THE STUFF I SEE IN YOUR REBLOG TAGS OCASSIONALKY GOT ME WONDERING.

please. please tell about your original stuff. i am relatively new so if everyone else is already familiar with it i’m sorry but i need to catch up and am curious so. literally any of your original work(s) that u want to ramble most about, i’m all ears.

:D tbh I bring up some of them periodically, but not all THAT often, so I don't know if everyone's looped in lol. regardless I Will take this opportunity to talk about The Devil Doesn't Live Here, bc I don't think I've actually talked about that one since it went through some major changes at least.

The Devil Doesn't Live Here is the story of Sarah Merle, the reluctant offshoot of a mildly magic family who returns to her hometown to arrange the funeral of her last remaining relative. She's been gone for eleven years; the town of Neverfound Gap and the surrounding forest had taken a lot from her and her family growing up, but she'd drawn the line when something in the woods had taken both her eye and the memory of losing it when she was sixteen. When her father had taken her to live with him out of town, she chose to leave everything behind.

Now she's hoping to get in and out of town as quickly as possible, but when her dead grandmother gives her a cryptic warning about coming disaster--because yeah, that's just the kind of town this is--she's forced to stick around and confront the people that have changed dramatically in her absence. Chief among them is Fred, her former best friend who now hates her guts--and who narrates the other half of the book, the story of their past leading up to the day Sarah lost her eye. As Sarah searches for answers in the present, Fred falls deeper into his fascination with the woods in the past. As Sarah realizes the growing threat of a creature called the Woodsman, Fred is enchanted by its knowledge and the acceptance it offers.

Neither of them have the whole story, and a third part of it is still missing, but it's anyone's guess as to whether they can put it together before it's too late.

excerpt :D

Eleven years, but once she hits Pine Avenue she knows the way to the Merle house like she can trace the lines in her palm, without looking. Muscle memory. She’d started driving early--in a town small enough they didn’t even have a mayor, where the town elders mostly had their time taken up by mediating conflicts between the ROC and the church-going side of town, nobody had time to arrest a fifteen-year-old driving without a lisence. Fred had flatly turned down rides in her family’s rattling old pickup a few times, citing the likelihood it might just burst into flames one of these days, and the fumes it was currently pouring into the atmosphere (“Eco-friendly,” he’d always point out about his preferred mode of travel; one foot up on the pedal of his bike, turned back to watch her fight with the coughing old engine. “And it doesn’t crap out on cold mornings.”)

Mags hadn’t cared. Mags would ride in the bed of the truck, half the time, and regale her with gossip from the passenger seat otherwise. It’s like she can see him out of the corner of her eye as the Merle house blooms through the fog of rain, red hair slipping out of its tie as he bends his head toward the window, taps his fingers against the lowered glass.. Somebody’s missing a body again. But it’s a church family, so they’re fighting the ROC over who should try and track it down…

Hallowed Grounds was a popular place, with ROC and tourists; and as much as Sarah hadn’t cared for the ROC, she’d preferred their gossip to the kind of stuff the church side of town tended to spread. When she was fifteen, it had felt like half of it was about her.

She crawls to a halt in the muddy driveway, turns the car off and hears it rattle into silence. It’s newer than the old Merle pickup, but still third-hand, bought cheap and maintained as cheap as she can manage. The rain drums loudly against the roof, and as the windshield wipers still Sarah watches the Merle House go from blurry to blurrier through the heavy sheets of rain.

Home.

#vic talks #WIP meme #not fully happy with this blurb/pitch but it's a start #i gotta take a break & maybe do the others tomorrow but #i am very glad for the chance to talk about my original projects :DD #so ty #the devil doesn't live here

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lilietsblog · 2 years

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hi, i noticed you reblogged my post highlighting my tags talking about how i don't appreciate likes, specifically saying something to the affect of "artists do appreciate likes" and i'd like to clear something up, I Am An Artist, My Posts Don't Often Get Reblogged and so i'm Not Getting New Eyes On My Posts and i'm Getting Discouraged‚ like why should i post art if nobody's gonna see it?

i don't really care for likes, all a like is to me is a "hey i saw your post! not gonna say anything about it, just saw it!" and its so easy to do with double tap to like, if i could turn them off on my posts i would, i promise you that. you literally highlighted my tags and said the opposite about People Like Me, basically about Me, which is just an absurd thing to do

also, did you see what blog of mine you were reblogging from? my sideblog for reblogging things to, because my main is for my art, other things "wouldn't match that wallpaper" so i put them on a dedicated blog so i can add tags and interact more without just liking posts, because i've been on the other side of getting like 11k likes or whatever and 5k reblogs‚ meaning i got hardly any feedback and people are now seeing it through the top posts of #long furby or whatever (not to mention that 5k reblogs started with a staff member reblogging it to the radar? so like, reblogs can really do some work)

i know its a bad idea to interact with discourse, especially when its something i could just block you for, i mean i'd really rather not talk to a like truther, but i'd like to tell you these things so you get a perspective of where i was coming from with those tags‚ and so you reconsider your argument against them

i hope you have a nice day‚ feel free to not answer this ask if it doesn't match your wallpaper, please stop telling artists what they should think

here's an idea for you too, turn off double tap to like, try to only interact with posts Intentionally, treat a day like you only have 100 likes or something, make a like matter, show us artists we're wrong

First, I'm not on mobile, "double tap for like" is not a thing in the browser. And I do interact with posts intentionally - if I don't like the post I don't put "like" on it, I just like the overwhelming majority of what's on my dash and I'm always happy to see (almost) any art that people on here actually made. I like it! Quite intentionally! It all matters to me! Like if I don't have the headspace to consider the post I don't - don’t scroll further I get off tumblr and go do something else

I didn't actually see what blog of yours I was reblogging from, no, I don't normally look at those things /sideglare into the "dont reblog from terfs" discourse/

And no, likes don't just mean "I saw your post". Yes, it's easy to put them, but people still choose to. They mean "I saw your post and I am glad I did and I want to see more of these". Literally tumblr has actual algorithms that determine things based on likes - whether to show something in a tag, the "based on your likes" recommendation thing.

Also..

>I Am An Artist, My Posts Don't Often Get Reblogged and so i'm Not Getting New Eyes On My Posts and i'm Getting Discouraged‚ like why should i post art if nobody's gonna see it?

so...

>all a like is to me is a "hey i saw your post!

people. seeing your posts. which is what you're saying you want. ???

Anyway, the real reason I'm wading into this discourse is that arguments like yours ARE MAKING PEOPLE STOP LIKING ART. Engaging with it at all in any way. Instead of going "ooh I should go through this blog and like this person's art, make their day, ooh look this picture is cool enough I want to reblog it!" people just go "artists are touchy, better not go on this dude's blog at all lest I accidentally like something"

like... not just yours. You're not the only person losing out on potential reblogs here. Everyone is. This campaign is driving art appreciators away, period.

Oh, and maintaining a sideblog is not something you can expect from other people as a mandatory obligation. It's not tumblr tax to be obligated to have a sideblog. Nor to blog anything at all. "Hey, if you don't post anything people are going to think you're a bot" =/= "hey, if you don't post anything you're evil and don't belong here".

---

P.S. If I did do that? If I did limit myself to 100 likes per day for ONLY STUFF THAT REALLY MATTERS?

You would have no way of knowing that, would you? Even if the likes I gave your art were from my Precious 100 Likes Supply, you would still be upset by them?

#asks #the reblog discourse #i hope you can see where im coming from here too

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sarahowritesostucky · 4 months

Text

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Tags: ptsd, trauma recovery, kink negotiations, fetishes, fantasies, body modification, self-harm, destructive sexual urges, heavy bdsm, bondage, 24/7 D/s, dom Steve, sub Bucky, sadism, masochism, castration fantasy, dark comedy, oddly sweet relationship dynamics (idiots in love), sex toys, handjobs, bondage, cbt, smacking

Summary: Steve shows Bucky that he likes his body exactly the way it is.

🖤Disclaimer: Nobody gets castrated or otherwise body-modified in this fic, okay? It's Steve and Bucky, kink negotiating and sceneing w/ regards to Bucky's very strange fantasies.

Wait! I haven't read Part 1 yet!

Part 2 - That Morning a Few Months Ago, When Steve Found Out About The Castration Issue

Steve immediately freaks out when he comes home to the apartment and catches Bucky Googling a string of majorly alarming keywords:

effects of castration_

can you cum without balls_

prostate orgasm_

modern castration_

modern surgical human castration_

voluntary castration_

erotic castration_

erotic surgical castration real_

body mod_

tattoo shops Brooklyn_

extreme body mod Brooklyn_

underground orchiectomy_

DIY surgery_

eunuch advice quora___

There are entire message boards and threads devoted to it online, reddit communities of men who call themselves modern day eunuchs; chatting details, swapping tips and tricks, making loose plans to fly down to Mexico or else perform amateur surgery in their basements. All so that they can chop each other's nuts off.

Steve breaks the whole fucking StarkPad as he’s holding it, furious (but only because he’s so terrified). “Get in the playroom!” he barks, and Bucky—wide-eyed—scrambles to obey.

Steve rigs him from the ceiling, held up by a crotch harness of elaborate shibari knots. He looks like someone about to rappel down a rock wall, only naked. As Steve fumes (panics), he hoists Bucky up for easy access, arranging the ropes so that he hangs in a seated position, ass about three feet off the floor, thighs forced wide. He buckles thigh restraints onto him and clips his wrist cuffs to those, rendering both hands useless. He goes and grabs the folding chair and drags it over. He sits between Bucky’s legs, up close, and he knows it must look near-comical—like some mid-air, Ringling Bros. version of a gynecological exam.

Bucky’s breathing picks up at the sight of Steve’s face so close to all his junk. “No oral!” he gasps. “You promised!”

Steve sees red and slaps him so hard, it swings Bucky out of control. He has to grab the ropes to settle him back into place. “I promised no blow jobs, you absolute and utter moron. I didn't say anything about anything further back.” He grabs him by the nuts and squeezes, pulls—mean enough and hard enough that it elicits a yelp. He makes a ring around the base with one hand, pulling, forcing both testicles taught against the skin, and promptly slaps them. Bucky screams.

Steve looks up to see him with his lips parted and his eyes squeezed shut, his breath coming in fast, laboured little pants. Bucky recovers from the pain, and when he opens his eyes again, they’re bright with excitement.

Steve sneers and lets him go, sitting back in the chair. “We have to have a talk, pal,” he says sarcastically, feeling a good majority of his anger (panic) subsiding now that he has all the control, now that he’s got Bucky hanging from the ceiling, tied up and safe and completely unable to seek out amateur surgery in some guy’s basement.

Lord, give me patience, he thinks.

They have a stare off, which terminates in Steve scoffing and reaching forward to swat his balls again. Bucky’s abs tense and he grunts, fighting hard to stay still in the harness. With the way Steve has him rigged, his own bodyweight will mostly keep him from swinging, as long as he doesn’t jerk around too much and Steve doesn’t smack him too hard.

Steve sits in the chair like he has all day to do this (he does), ignoring Bucky’s junk in favor of staring up at his face. He waits, forearms crossed, letting the tension build as he says absolutely nothing and Bucky starts looking increasingly sheepish. His dick—about twenty inches in front of Steve’s face right now—lays thickened against the crease of his thigh. Steve arches a long-suffering eyebrow. “Explain. yourself.”

Bucky shifts nervously in his bonds. “Well … I wasn’t really gonna do it.”

Oh, but Steve would love to believe that. “Mm hm,” he drawls. “Just like you ‘weren’t really’ going to get your tits pierced, right?”

Bucky looks down at his chest. He’s got the little black barbells in today. “Um,”

“Just like you ‘weren’t really’ going to go get that star branded into the back of your neck?”

Bucky bites his lip. “... Okay but hear me out!”

“Jesus Christ!” Steve shoots up from the chair and stalks angrily to the other side of the room. He stays there, pacing, agitated, hands on his hips and shaking his head at his idiot boyfriend. “You can’t chop your balls off, Bucky. Okay?! You just cannot.”

Bucky, at least, looks sorry that he’s upset Steve. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, you jerk. I’m fucking terrified.” He walks back over to him. Standing there, his face is a little higher than it normally would be in relation to Bucky’s. He locks gazes with him and lets his eyes do the pleading. “Do I have to worry about coming home one day to find you bleeding out in the bathtub or somethin’?”

Bucky licks his lips, hesitant, but then, “It wouldn’t be like that, though! I could—”

Steve smacks him across the face so hard, he goes swinging again. This time he doesn’t do anything to steady him back into place, just lets him twist back and forth in ridiculous, pendulous motions, until he eventually comes to a stop on his own. “Shut. up,” he tells him. “And repeat after me: ‘Steve’,” He waits.

Bucky sighs. “Steve.”

“‘I promise I am not going to cut off my balls’.”

Bucky’s mouth works in frustration for a few seconds. “M’not gonna cut off my balls,” he eventually mumbles, doing a piss poor job of following directions, but at least following them. Steve narrows his eyes.

“‘Or let anyone else cut off my balls’.”

“Steve,” he whines. “You haven’t even let me explain!”

For a few seconds, Steve really just thinks about hitting him again. But something holds him back. Grinding his teeth together at the pleading, insulted look on Bucky’s face, he reconsiders his options. He’s got Bucky: helpless and hanging, naked, wanting something. That’s called leverage. He inhales deep and lets it out slowly, raising his chin up while he looks down his nose at him. “Fine,” he decides, magnanimous. “You can explain it while we work.”

Bucky’s irises flare, but he does a fairly good job of containing any other outward signs of his displeasure. He’s been trained to withstand torture, after all. Never let ‘em see you sweat.

“Working” is by far Bucky’s least favorite version of what they get up to in this room. Steve doesn’t wait to see any more of his reaction to this announcement, just turns and crosses the room. He knows Bucky’s watching him like a hawk. He ambles over to the supply wall and pokes around, taking his time deciding what he wants, rooting through the cabinets, taking things off the wall’s hooks and putting them back after consideration. He dumps everything he wants on the rolling cart and brings it back over with him. Bucky’s chewing his lip hard when Steve sits down in the chair. Steve pinches his inner thigh and twists the skin cruelly. “Stop biting, or I’ll gag you.”

Bucky stops right away.

Sighing, Steve oils up his hands and the inside of the cock ring that he’s brought over. It’s made from thick, heavy rubber—a ball stretcher and cockring all in one. It’ll help keep Bucky hard and keep his testicles pulled uncomfortably away from his body. Steve grabs his dick without preamble and gives a few, rough pulls, coating him in the oil and getting him to fatten up enough to maneuver. There is no gentling of the head, no soft pressing, no playing with the little wrinkle of foreskin that Bucky has when he’s soft enough. It’s completely mechanical and without technique.

Bucky inhales harshly through his nose and his muscles go rigid underneath the leather straps of the thigh restraints. “Shh,” Steve soothes, but in a perfunctory way, like he’s calming a big, dumb animal so that he can get a task done. “Hush. You don’t have any room to whine at me right now. You can, but I’m still gonna do what I want to your body.”

It’s obvious that Bucky’s trying, because he focuses on taking deep, calming breaths as Steve jerks him off in his hand. He doesn’t make a peep. Steve works the ring over his dick, snugging it to the base and forcing his balls through the stretcher part. He lets it hang there, pulled down by its own weight, and re-drenches his hand with the oil. A few more, sloppy strokes, and then he looks up at Bucky’s face. “When’s the last time you jerked off?” he asks.

He sees the rise and fall of Bucky’s Adam’s apple as he swallows. After a moment of thought, he just shakes his head minutely, and Steve knows what that means: It’s been so long, Bucky can’t even remember the last time he touched himself.

“How ‘bout me?” Steve asks.

“Yesterday,” Bucky whispers, breath hitching when Steve gives him another firm stroke. “S-steve …”

“Is it really all that bad?” Steve wonders, hurt even though he knows he should be used to it by now. He looks back down and watches the tension in the muscles of Bucky’s lower abs, the lewd shine of the lube on his cockhead as it slides through the tight channel of Steve’s fist. The sight makes his own cock throb beneath his clothes, but he ignores it. “Tell me,” he murmurs, sad. “Tell me how it makes you feel.”

“Steve … You already know—”

“I don’t care,” Steve snaps. “Tell me anyway.” He takes his hand off Bucky’s cock and grabs the buttplug from the cart, starts lubing it up in full view of Bucky. He coats the entire thing slowly, almost leisurely, then shoots a warning glance upwards. “I’m waiting.”

“Scared,” Bucky rasps, voice coming up dry, like he wasn’t expecting to have to speak. He squirms in his bonds, but stops when it makes the ropes move. “Worried.”

“This a fear boner, then?” Steve glides a single fingertip up and down the top of his shaft. “Doesn’t look very afraid to me.”

“It’s a reflex,” Bucky defends. “Like flinching. It does feel good when you touch me, but my brain starts to squirm, too. Starts to feel like … I dunno … like somethin’ really bad’s gonna happen.”

“Panic,” Steve murmurs, removing his finger from Bucky’s dick, upset. “It makes you panic.”

Bucky whines. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

“Shh. I know you can’t help it, honey. As long as you’re honest with me like that, as long as you tell me how you really feel, this is gonna go fine.” He pets over top of Bucky’s thigh and out to the side, to his hip, to the side of his butt. The gluteus muscle keeps tensing and releasing as Bucky fights to remain still. Steve taps the rubber of the buttplug against his bound balls and murmurs, “If you’re worried I’m not going to hurt you enough, don’t be. You’ve got me feeling mighty generous.”

Bucky gulps. His head dips in a tiny nod, mouth sealed shut. Steve can’t read if he’s nervous, or just excited.

Steve’s not a sadist, and Bucky’s not a brat—he absolutely hates letting Steve down, and he never gets off on disobeying, not even for the sake of a punishment. But Bucky is a masochist. He gets off on pain to a degree that most people would say isn’t possible. But it’s all true. He’s more than proved it to Steve time and again.

So Steve feels zero pity as he swats Bucky’s bound balls around carelessly with the plug and hears him grunt, then gasp when he loses control of holding in the noise. Steve drags the plug back, smearing oil across the bare skin of his taint. He works it inside of him quickly, efficiently, pats the base of it once it's in. Steve’s chosen this particular plug because he wants Bucky to feel as helpless as possible right now.

Bucky saw it when Steve walked back from the other side of the room with it, so he’ll already know that it’s one of the vibrating ones. He’ll be on edge because he knows that, afraid that Steve’s planning on turning it on and forcing an orgasm out of him. (Oh, the horror.) Inflatable, because Steve doesn’t want him to be able to push it out. As helpless as possible. “You can still red out,” he tells him softly. “But if you don’t, begging’s not going to do you any fucking good. All it’ll do is hurt my ears.”

He pumps the plug up, a few squeezes at a time, just slow enough to know that he’s not damaging Bucky’s body. Hurting him, maybe, but that’s not exactly something Bucky will complain about.

“How can it feel that good?!” Steve’s cried more than once, upset after watching him ejaculate out of a soft penis, from nothing more than a beating, a whipping, or having his ass caned until blood pricked past the edges of the welts. “Please! Why can’t I touch you?! Let me love you!”

Steve’s therapist likes to remind him that you can train the brain to do pretty much anything. Sometimes on purpose, but often just by happenstance. “You have to remember, this is what helped him get through decades of torture. He might not feel like he needs to ‘get better’.”

“... I need him to.”

Bucky’s trauma made him this way, and Steve isn’t supposed to shame him for it. He likes to think that he doesn’t. Bucky’s struggled to try and accept sexual touch for his benefit. Maybe Steve needs to try harder, too.

He gets up from the chair and stands in the wide open vee of Bucky’s legs, staring him straight in the eye as he reaches down to flutter oily fingertips over his balls. He cups them, circles the pad of his thumb slowly and firmly on the shape of one testicle, then the other. They’re pushed down by the stretcher, taut against the skin, slick from the oil. He lets go, then flicks him with his finger. It’s only as hard as finger flick can be, but he gets him with the nail, and Bucky jerks in his bonds and breathes hard through his nose again. Steve goes back to caressing. He takes Bucky’s chin in his other hand and uses it to hold him still as he leans in and kisses him. It’s an achingly gentle kiss, deep and thoughtful and slow. He pulls back, still gripping his chin. He flicks his balls again, and this time Bucky’s gasp is so close to his own face, he feels it. He flicks him again, kisses him again. Flicks him again and speaks right against his lips,

“I love you, so much.”

“Steve …”

“Shut up. Listen to me, Buck.” He caresses and feathers and slips and strokes his fingers all over Bucky’s balls. “It would make me very, very sad; very disappointed, very mournful, hurt, angry … and very frightened,” he says quietly, “if you ever decided to take these away from me.” Bucky goes stock still, hardly breathing. Steve regards him tenderly, flicking his balls again a few more times, then patting them around in a way that probably feels like a lot, but not explicitly painful to someone like Bucky. “Would you really want to do that?” he murmurs, frowning and tilting his head. “Would you take that away from me? Something I enjoy so much?”

Bucky’s eyes are going half-lidded, and Steve knows that he’s made a wise choice by going the objectification route, here; making Bucky’s body about Steve and his wants, his needs, what it can do for him. That’ll talk Bucky down from this insane castration cliff faster than anything else will. Nodding, Steve takes a step back. He sits in the chair. Bucky’s legs are very, very wide apart, so there’s plenty of room to move in, to reach for things he’s brought over on the cart, lean forward and torment Bucky, or lean back and ignore him. All Bucky can do is hang there, exactly as Steve has put him.

Over the course of the last year, Steve has learned a lot of things about himself, one of those things being that he’s a bit of a rigger. That’s what people call it. Rigger: one who likes to rig. As in people, from various places, into various positions. Like how Bucky’s hanging from the ceiling right now in his very own fucked up little chair harness. When Steve has Bucky tied up, nobody can hurt Bucky but him. And Bucky can’t make any poor choices for himself out in the world when he’s tied up here for Steve. It’s a very satisfying feeling.

Sitting in the chair with his back straight puts the apex of Bucky’s crotch about fifteen inches in front of Steve’s face. He looks up to find Bucky watching him closely. “So tell me what your thought process was,” he says, quietly, knowing that he needs to give Bucky that outlet, needs to let him explain. Despite how much it infuriates him (terrifies him), Steve has to acknowledge that this is something Bucky came up with in his mind, and that there is therefore a need being fulfilled when he thinks of it. He didn’t dig this all up just to reach a new level of outrageousness. There’s a reason behind it.

“People don’t do things for no reason. He has his reasons, in all the crevices and corners of his mind. And you have to understand that he may not be able to let you into all of them. There may be crevices he doesn’t know how to navigate with someone else, or simply doesn’t have the words for. There may be places he can’t bear to ever let you see.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“Both, probably. But does that really matter?”

Steve sighs, but it’s much less put-upon this time. This particular crevice may sound worse on paper, but they’ve been here before. After all, Steve had let Bucky explain back when he’d told him about needing pain. He’d let him explain about how scary accepting pleasure can be. He’d let him explain the restraint and the objectification and how they help make him feel safe; about why the promise of a ruined orgasm makes it easier for him to come, and why letting Steve draw a blade along his skin makes him cry tears of relief. And even though it may now be a long while before Steve leaves Bucky unsupervised for any considerable period of time, he’s not going to dismiss this particular crevice at face value. Bucky deserves better than that.

So, leaning over to grab a box of itty bitty plastic clothespins, Steve sucks his teeth good naturedly and raises his eyebrows at Bucky’s dick. “Okay pal. Start talkin’.” Bucky’s face goes red and he squirms, clearly embarrassed. Steve decides to help him out. “Hey, I’m not doing this to humiliate you,” he promises, rubbing at his inner thigh soothingly. “Just … start with what made you think of it, and we’ll go from there.”

Bucky nods, and Steve has a brief moment of pride and love for him so strong, he just wants to take him down from the ropes and kiss him silly. Bucky’s trying, and that’s what matters. He’s always trying so hard for Steve. “Where’d you first hear about it?” Steve guides, waiting until Bucky swallows and says ‘the internet’, before clipping the first clip to the skin at the very base of his dick.

Masterlist

Part 3

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boyswanna-be-her · 1 year

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that was truly an insanely out of pocket ask. anyway it makes me happy to hear about what makes you happy, and how your day to day is going, and what you're excited about. hope you have a good rest of your day <3

Thanks! Their apology meant a world of difference to me. The ask also lead to me reaching out directly to FIVE different long time IRL friends who had seen me in the past three days before receiving the ask. Getting a temp check with people who have known you a long time and seen you recently is definitely helpful, and although the ask made me spiral for like 2 hours, it also generated some unexpectedly affirming conversations, where people who have all known me since 2005-2008 all independent of one another basically said that they had indeed noticed that I'm more talkative and outgoing lately, but that it hadn't pinged them in any sort of concerning way. I fuck heavily with the opinion esp of 3/5 of the people in this regard because that proportion of this group had previously reached out to me in a panic worried about me because they perceived me as so sad/detached. Two of them in particular got me engaged with environmental volunteering immediately after all my 2018 bullshit where I was in super heavy PTSD territory, and I can directly credit them for a lot of connections and drives I have today. And 2 of them have also conducted mandatory wellness checks when I didn't communicate with them often enough via text for them to be comfy. And I love them for that in ways they'll never really understand.

Anyway. The general message was that nobody had been alarmed, the ask seemed out of left field to them (they don't read my blog, but they're all aware of it and tumblr-smart), and that they'd all been happy to be happy for me this year.

No ragrets. If nothing else, being able to reach out to so many friends who have been with me for so long but also so recently was validating, and that none of them were worried about me is great. I don't think I would've had any other impetus to request all those low-consequence feedback seshes had I not received the ask. None of the people pinged have anything to gain from lying to me and again, in the past, the majority have not had a problem expressing concern about my mental health.

So like. Yeah that shit threw me super hard yesterday and I immediately re-evaluated the way that I express myself here and elsewhere. I feel like I had recently re-channeled my early days of tumblr where everything was highly unfiltered, capslock and screaming in tags was quite normal, I was a small fish in a big pond, etc--because that's when it was an exciting era for me as a creator on here. I miss a lot of that energy.

And full disclosure, in my relationship before last, the one that really and truly broke my heart on top of losing Jonathan to suicide, we didn't share ANYTHING publicly. And I was so deep. And then they broke up with me horribly a month after Jonathan died and I found him!!!!!... well, how could anyone on the outside mourn a relationship they didn't know about when my RECENTLY (for my safety lol) ex-husband had just died horrifiecally? They didn't know. The scale was so weird for everyone but me. Only a handful of people even knew I was in a new relationship that i perceived as supportive and, like, a soulmate type gig. I was so sure of everything that I didn't share ANYTHING and that super fucked me over in the end.

It was awful and alienating and I wished all along that we had shared more. So I don't wanna do that shit anymore. I'm excited about shit in my life and people in my life and meeting people and finding gigs and I don't want input on that, so please treat me like the 38 year old human being I am. I have been through more bullshit than you could possibly understand, even if you read every post I ever made here, even if you were my best friend who I told everything to (doesn't exist but good concept). Assumptions are unwelcome. I'm old and I'm angry and I have energy and that's what's up. I just want people to be on board to see this middle aged piece of shit maybe like find a reason to live again and not die alone.

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