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#showcase all the friend stuff
joyfuladorable · 1 year
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< Prev Doodles | First Set of Doodles
Surprise, @redstringraven!! Guess who watched a playthrough of Horizon Forbidden West AND the DLC Burning Shores and Then proceeded to reread Pretend that I Never Left and draw Four More DOODLE PAGES!!!! To all the 2k3 Mikey fans out there, this is the fic for you!
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thelassoway · 7 months
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I'm still so mad that we got all those parallels and callbacks and yet no tedbecca. It was all for nothing. THEY WERE IN LOVE DAMMIT!!!!
Hi!
First, I hope all is well with you.
And this gif sums up my feels on that season of that one show:
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🍻
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anotherpapercut · 9 months
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wild how much of the time "there isn't anything to do where I live" is code for "I refuse to seek out local artists and events"
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chucktober2021 · 2 years
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pissjesus · 2 years
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Not me being angry seeing everyone in their little caps and gowns when I chose not to go to my own commencement and didn’t buy the cap gown or honors chords and wondering why I feel like I didn’t achieve anything by graduating with high honors
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aparticularbandit · 4 months
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Debating having a second, parallel fic to dr1 end rewrite that's just. memories.
And then sometimes posting one of those instead of a main fic update to show what memories Kyoko's recovering as time goes on, while also giving a better look (albeit out of order) of stuff that happened prior to the Killing Game.
....
The first chapter would be the first all girls sleepover that Kyoko goes to. Because I think that's apt.
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chewwytwee · 8 months
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I’m sorry to hear your comms never get showcased. But the most important thing is that you like the comms! You shouldn’t have to alter what you request to appeal to more people, it’s art for you. <3
I get that yeah. But also the number of times I grab comm slots just because the artist never opens is… more than not. I just don’t have interesting comm ideas, and yeah the comms are nice art of my character but a lot of them feel kinda bland cuz they’re all like…….. the same picture
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celesteleoves · 5 months
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“DAMN, IT FEELS GOOD TO HAVE YOU.”
gojo satoru X reader.
summary: satoru never fails to showcase his love for you, even in the most serious moments.
warnings: none, just fluff!! (profanities are used…)
a/n: there is mentions of satorus infinity and before anyone corrects me on how it’s used, for the sake of this work, let’s ignore that. please send requests aswell!
-
“i like your eyes.” the 17 year old boy mumbled as he gazed into your eyes, your cheeks flushed and you pushed his head away.
“shut up, satoru.” you turned your face away from his as you two sat on a roof, admiring the sunset.
“never. life is a thousand times better when i’m with you. everything about you is like a refresher to me. damn, it feels good to have you.” satoru whispered as he pulled you closer to him by your waist, lifting his arm to move your hair out of your face.
you stared at your lover, mouth agape at his words. satoru never failed to showcase his love for you, even when you two were “just friends”. it’s different now, you have a label on your relationship.
you’d pray he’d stop with the sappy moments at some point, they almost bring you to tears everytime. he made you feel like you were worth more than you actually were.
“satoru, baby, enough. i’m gonna start crying.”
-
so, as the years went by, satoru never stopped showering you with those sappy moments your teen self adored to the core.
you two walked alongside each other, your students were training with the second years which meant you two could take a little walk around jujustu tech.
“your ass looks good in that uniform.” satoru spoke up, making you blush furiously.
now, his compliments were a bit outrageous, but some were sweet!
“gojo!”
“gojo?! not satoru, sheesh babe you’re hurting my heart.” he clutched his heart in fake agony as you rolled your eyes and lightly shoved his shoulder, expecting not to be able to touch him.
his infinity was off. normally, he has it on at all times. you’ve grown accustomed to the random moments where you two are together and all of a sudden you can no longer touch him because of the barrier his infinity creates.
“what’s up?” satoru notices your furrowed brows and frowns, his blindfold masking the adoration and worry that is present in his eyes.
“nothing. was just thinking about stuff.”
“you’re pretty when you’re concentrated on something. gosh, you’re always pretty.” satoru grinned as he walked closer to you, leaning down and kissing your forehead.
“i-” your words were forced to come to a halt when satoru’s phone rang.
“hello! gojo satoru speaking. oh. right now? alright. y/n and i will be there in a second.”
you tilted your head in confusion as he hung up the phone, making a disgusted noise.
“meeting with kyoto and the higher ups, for the exchange event.” satoru sighed and pulled you close to him, quickly arriving at the meeting room.
you sighed aswell, following satoru into the room as he loudly announced himself.
“hey! thought we had a meeting two days ago. what’s up with this? you interrupted my precious time with a pretty lady.” satoru faked cried as your face flushed, moving to take a seat beside shoko who was already rolling her eyes at his behaviour.
“take a goddamn seat, satoru.”
“woah, don’t get too feisty! not here!” satoru kept making jokes, your laughter being muffled by the arm of your uniform as you fake coughed.
satoru turned his attention to you, grinning even wider when he noticed you were struggling to stay formal.
he wasn’t making jokes for anyone else to laugh, he just wanted to see you smile. your perfect smile lightened up the whole room. it’s a shame you have to hide it around the higher ups when you are in meetings.
satoru tuned out everything principal yaga was saying, staring at you. he admired how concentrated you looked and how carefully you were listening to yaga’s words. he was talking about the students and you cherished them with your whole being. their safety was first priority and you always made that very clear with those around you.
he admired you, admired your motherly instincts you have that you claim to not have at all. he couldn’t wait to settle down with you, his beautiful wife. you weren’t married, you couldn’t be in a world like this. yet, he always called you his wife.
“gojo satoru, you ought to start listening as of right now.” yaga scowled and satoru leaned back into his seat, folding his arms as he grinned at yaga.
“sorry, yaga! i’m too focused on my wife’s beauty.” satoru grinned even wider at his words as he watched you from the corner of his eye.
you gasped, covering your face with one hand as you listened to satorus uncalled for words.
“alright, you two, leave. we can discuss this later, y/n please smack some sense into him.” yaga tiredly said as he waved you two out.
satoru was up in a second, dashing out the door with you.
“satoru! that was so uncalled for!”
“i know, that’s why i said it.”
“you’re such a little-”
“tease? ooh! didn’t know we were getting frisky in public spaces now.”
“satoru!” you laughed in disbelief and shoved him again as he giggled, following you down the hallway with love in his eyes.
“i love you,” he paused as you stopped and turned to him, “that’s why i say stuff like that, you deserve compliments every second of the day and i will continue to give them as long as i’m breathing.”
“you’re such a sap, i love you too.” you said with a soft tone, embracing satoru in a hug which he gladly returned, lifting you up and laughing.
you laughed alongside your husband, a man who you swear to be with until you can no longer breathe.
-
a/n: this was so lazy, yikes. there’s a shit ton of spelling errors but i’ll make up for it in my next work! please send requests aswell.
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twstowo · 1 day
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Their Magicam Accounts[Twst]
♡︎How I think their Magicam Accounts would look and what they do in them.
♡︎This was been catching dust in my drafts for months now. Crazy
♡︎Includes: NRC, RSA and Rollo
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⋆⋅☆Riddle: Owns two accounts on Magicam. The first one is only used to like or comment on posts from friends, Carter set up this account against Riddle’s will. He once accidentally posted a picture of the two of you and had a heart attack trying to delete it. The second account is a secret one where he only posts hedgehog pictures.
⋆⋅☆Trey: Has one account where most of his posts showcase his cakes, including pictures from unbirthday parties and moments of you cooking with him. His profile picture is him with that dog filter, you can’t change my mind.
⋆⋅☆Carter: Literally Owns Magicam, posting pictures every time he does something or is with someone. #Thevoicesarewinning. Comments on every post and totally knows that Riddle owns the hedgehog account. He also has a side account for stalking people. Changes his profile picture daily.
⋆⋅☆Ace: Initially only posted embarrassing pictures of people and would only take them down if they paid him. Got suspended quickly from Magicam. The second account is more relaxed, where he shares random content whenever he feels like it. He’s also the type to edit group pictures to make everyone look bad except himself, just to annoy everyone.
⋆⋅☆Deuce: Was the one who reported Ace’s first account since most pictures were of him. Has Shaky pictures, the best picture he has is one of him, Ace, and you together. Probably uses social media mostly for chatting with friends. Also, he, Ace, and you have one of those quirky couple profile pics.
⋆⋅☆Leona: Owns an account with no posts, profile picture, comments, or followers. Rarely uses Magicam, but he occasionally checks your posts.
⋆⋅☆Ruggie: Uses Magicam for selling stuff. Created a group for selling second-hand items and pins all his stuff to ensure faster sales than everyone else.
⋆⋅☆Jack: Gym pictures? Nah, I feel he’d be too shy for that. Probably has one image that he uses everywhere else just to identify himself.
⋆⋅☆Azul: Opened an account to promote Mostro Lounge, daily posts feature new dishes, prices, menus, and sales. He also has a personal account but doesn’t post (doesn’t think he looks nice in pictures).
⋆⋅☆Jade: Mushroom account, has so many followers who share his fascination. Their conversations are all about their mushroom hikes and can last for hours. Makes really aesthetically pleasing posts filled with detailed information about different types of mushrooms.
⋆⋅☆Floyd: For legal reasons I won’t say why, but his account got suspended after one week of its creation.
⋆⋅☆Kalim: Sends party invitations through Magicam, Jamil had to create a group to prevent Kalim from sending individual invitations constantly. Enjoys capturing pictures of the sky. Once posted a picture of Jamil, after it was deleted, he didn't post anything for a whole month, I wonder what happened.
⋆⋅☆Jamil: Similar to Leona, but he often checks Trey’s account for his cake posts. When he saw a picture of you and Trey together, he invited you over to cook with him but didn’t have the courage to ask for a picture of the two of you.
⋆⋅☆Vil: Posts frequently, sharing about himself and his daily routine, always looking impeccable. Regularly receives barking comments, he spends hours deleting all of them.
⋆⋅☆Rook: We all know he has a fan account for Neige. Likes posts of all the celebrities he adores. Writes extremely lengthy comments whenever he finds someone beautiful. He's been blocked so many times he's lost count.
⋆⋅☆Epel: Initially tried taking cute pictures following Vil’s advice but got annoyed as he looked too feminine. Instead, he started promoting stuff from his farm back home.
⋆⋅☆Idia: Uses an account with a weird name to hide his identity, posts about games and occasional activities. Engages in lengthy debates with anyone who disagrees with his new hyperfixation. Has a different notification ring for your posts.
⋆⋅☆Ortho: Shares many pictures of you and him and others doing silly things, sometimes posts gossips and causes huge scandals with them, to the point he decided to create an account with only gossip info. (Azul is literally taking notes.)
⋆⋅☆Malleus: This man owns a Nokia 3310.
⋆⋅☆Lilia: Creates posts about the Doramas he watches, managing a fan page to discuss them with others. Shares pictures of Silver, Sebek, and Malleus, although the latter two get embarrassed, leading Lilia to take down their pictures.
⋆⋅☆Silver: Posts images of nature and cute animals. There's only one picture of him – you took it while he was sleeping and posted it. He didn't have the heart to delete it, knowing it was you.
⋆⋅☆Sebek: Shaky hands #2. Takes pictures of his paintings of Malleus; if you scroll long enough, you might see an accidentally posted painting of you.
⋆⋅☆Che’nya: Shares pictures of people's scared faces, taken while invisible when the flash goes off.
⋆⋅☆Neige: Lost track of his posts; like Vil, he has many followers. Captures moments with the dwarfs and shares funny stories about his day in every picture.
⋆⋅☆Rollo: Has one account filled with pictures of Fleur City. His profile picture used to be a croissant, but he removed it since it looked dumb. He was blocked every magic user, except for you. Yet.
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freedomfireflies · 1 year
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Teach Me*
Summary: Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?
You.
Word Count: 5.4k
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“...I’m sorry, you need to what?”
“I need…” Harry repeats, “...to eat you out.”
You blink at the man standing alarmingly still in the hallway outside of your door. “Is it crack? Is that what you smoke? Do you smoke crack?”
He smirks at the familiar joke before he’s brushing past you and striding into your apartment. “All right, fine. I just thought I’d ask.”
“Ask what?” you huff as you shut the door and face him. “I still don’t understand what it is you want.”
“I want to eat you out,” he says yet again as your expression falls flat. “Look I need…the practice.”
“Practice…”
“Practice.” He nods before flopping down onto the sofa. “You remember Tina, right?”
“Tall, hot, and out of your league?” you recall as you walk over to him. “Yes, I remember.”
He fights a smile. “Yeah, well…she agreed to let me take her out and I just…I want to make sure I’m prepared.”
“...prepared.”
“Prepared.” His eyes follow you as you take a seat beside him. “Come on, you know I don’t have a lot of experience with that shit, and I want to make sure I’m…you know, at least capable of making her come. And I have no other way to get…better.”
“Oh, so, naturally I’m your second-best option,” you snort playfully as you pull your knees to your chest. “But how would eating me out help you make her come? Not all girls like the same stuff, you know. Lesson number one.”
“Because I need someone to help me make my technique a little…smoother, I guess. Tell me what feels good and what doesn’t so I know,” he explains, without a hint of embarrassment, and truthfully, you’re a little impressed.
Harry has always been…bold, you would say. Assertive, confident, borderline egotistical. He’s never had a problem making friends or getting a girlfriend, so learning that his sexual experience didn’t expand as far as you thought it did was kind of a surprise.
You do admire him for wanting to be good for her. In fact, the thought is almost sweet, although you have no idea where he got the idea to ask you.
Sure, you’re his best friend, but…that’s kind of fucking…weird. Right? You guys don’t do that. You don’t even like to hug.
You run your tongue over your bottom lip and look for the deception within his expression. He could be messing with you. It wouldn’t be the first time and you certainly wouldn’t put it past him.
But there’s something…earnest in the way he speaks. In the way his eyes hold onto yours as he awaits your response, hopeful and desperate.
“So…wait, hold on.” You clear your throat and straighten up. “You…you honestly want…to eat me out…just to see if I like it?”
“Kind of, yeah,” he agrees as one shoulder bobs up in a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve got a few ideas on what to do, I just…I need someone—I need you—to tell me if it feels good or not. So I can practice and make sure she’ll like it.”
Your teeth begin to absentmindedly knaw on the inside of your cheek. Truthfully, you have no idea how to feel about this. The request is outrageous and weird and it goes way past the duties of friendship.
But you’ve known him forever and you trust him and honestly? You feel a little bad for the guy.
Sure, the best way for him to get the practice he needs would be with her, but you know him. He doesn’t like to admit he doesn’t know something and he absolutely despises feeling unprepared. 
He’s a perfectionist.
And you are a little flattered that he feels safe enough with you to showcase his inexperience and that thought alone begins to wash your reservations away.
“So…all I’d have to do is just…sit here? And tell you yes or no?” you clarify, and he nods.
“Yeah. I won’t make you come, don’t worry. I know that’s…going a little farther than we need,” he says. “I just…wanna play with you a little.”
You smirk. “Wouldn’t not making me come defeat the purpose?”
He exhales a laugh as he leans back. “I just want to make sure I can. Besides, doesn’t it open up a bunch of emotions and shit? It attaches you to the person? I mean, do you really wanna live with the knowledge that you came because of me?”
“...no,” you admit. “Okay, that’s fair. So…if I agree…you’re not gonna drag this out, right? Just to annoy me?”
He chuckles again. “Well, I wanna make sure I’m doing it right…but no, I won’t drag it past that. I’ll stop whenever you want.”
Your fingers pull at a loose strand on your jeans. You aren’t seriously considering this, are you? “And if I say yes…how would we…I mean, what would we do?”
He thinks about this for only a moment, suggesting that he already came with a plan. Typical. “I guess we go somewhere you feel comfortable…we start slow. You tell me what you’re okay with, what you’re not okay with…and then I’ll just…get started.”
You look at him. Really look at him. He’s relaxed. Almost too relaxed considering the line he’s suggesting you both cross. A line you can never uncross.
And as you stare at those familiar features you’ve known for years…you feel your body exhale a deep breath. You’re doubtful, sure…but he’s always been rather exceptional at providing you comfort, just through a look alone.
Exactly like he is now.
His mouth quirks up in a smirk as he bumps his knuckles against your knee teasingly. “We don’t have to, Bee. I just…thought I’d ask.”
You roll your lips into your mouth as you hesitate, the familiar nickname calming you ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t…I’m not saying no, I just…I don’t know. It’s weird.”
“I know,” he agrees with a nod. “Look, just…forget I said anything. I’ll Google it, it’s fine. Let’s just watch Schitt’s Creek or something, yeah?”
With that, he turns toward the TV, grabs the remote, and begins to flip through the channels, leaving the conversation behind.
But you aren’t as quick to let the idea go. After all, he planted the seed, and now you’re starting to wonder. You’re starting to…accept.
Maybe things will be weird. And maybe you won’t be able to go back to how you used to be. But at least you’ll have helped him…? And that’s…something that friends do.
…right?
“I have never heard someone say so many wrong things…one after the other…consecutively…in a row,” David says to your right as Harry smiles and glances over to see if you’re listening.
But you’re not.
At least, not to David.
“Okay,” you murmur, quiet enough that it becomes lost beneath the next line on the show.
Harry, confused, raises a brow and begins to lower the volume. “Sorry, what?”
“Okay,” you repeat, a little more confidently than you had before. “Okay, I agree to your proposal. Just this once.”
He blinks. “Wait, seriously?”
“Seriously.” You nod. “What? Don’t look at me like that, I’m charitable. And cool, and a really good friend. So…don’t forget that the next time I ask you to buy the popcorn at the movie.”
His eyes roll but he laughs as he tosses the remote aside. “All right, that’s fair. Deal.”
You both go quiet.
Funny…for some reason, you thought agreeing would be all there was to it.
His eyes soften as he looks you over. “So…you’re in charge, okay? You just…tell me where you wanna go, what you’re comfortable with…whatever you want, yeah?”
You nod faintly before glancing toward your room. “Um…I guess we can do it on the bed. There’s probably more room, so it would be a little easier…I guess.”
He nods, too, before slowly moving for the edge of the couch. But he doesn’t stand until you do, eyeing you closely as if gauging your reaction.
You aren’t sure why you feel so…timid. You’re not exactly nervous, maybe just…apprehensive. But, it’s Harry, and he will always be the boy that got a blueberry stuck up his nose and snorted purple snot to you.
And it can’t get more embarrassing than that. 
He follows you into the bedroom. The same bedroom he’s seen a million times, although now, it’s like a completely different space.
With an awkward clear of your throat, you take a seat on the corner of the mattress, head tilting back as you look up at him expectantly. “Uh…now what?”
“You tell me,” he says softly, hands finding refuge in his pockets. “Where do you wanna be? Against the pillows? Might be more comfortable.”
You glance over your shoulder at the headboard. “Yeah, I guess that’s…a good idea.”
He smiles again, stepping back to allow you the room to crawl back. 
Once you’re in position and settled, he takes your spot on the edge of the bed. “Still good?”
You nod, arms resting atop your stomach, almost as if to hide yourself. “Yup.”
“Do you wanna pick a safeword?”
Your brows raise. “I mean…I think ‘stop’ will do just fine.”
He snorts his amusement. “Fair.”
Again, you both grow quiet, and you wish you could find your nerve. In the many years you two have known each other, not once have you ever been this shy. Or quiet. In fact, you don’t believe there’s ever been a second of silence between you, and you have no idea what to do with it.
He straightens up, taking the reins when he notices you don’t plan to. “Do you have your phone?”
Confused, you reach into your pocket and wiggle the cell phone free.
He nods. “Okay, I want you to pull up your favorite porn.”
Your lips part as you blink. “...I’m sorry, what now?”
"Well, I’m willing to bet you’re not exactly turned on right now, right?” he explains, nodding his chin at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “And I’m just thinking that might be a little harder to work with. For both of us.”
Unfortunately, he’s right. You’re about as dry as the Sahara desert, so you admit defeat and swipe up on your screen.
Now, while you and him have both exchanged some of your favorite videos before, pulling up one now…in front of him…feels like a whole new ballgame.
You quickly readjust the volume before looking for the ones you know normally do the trick, refusing to sneak a glance at the man now scooting a bit closer to you. 
But you do hear him smile. “Find it?”
Your eyes land on the familiar thumbnail you’ve seen a hundred times before as you whisper, “Yeah.”
“Good,” he hums, hands coming to rest near your outstretched legs. “Can I take your jeans off? Just your jeans.”
You peek out from around the screen of your phone, catching the curious but hopeful look on his face. “...sure.”
He nods his understanding before shifting closer so he can reach for your zipper to guide it down.
You debate watching him but choose instead to click play on the video and force your attention elsewhere. Maybe this will go smoother if you just…don’t look at him. 
Ever.
You feel the air hit your legs as his fingers curl around the fabric at your hips to pull it down. He’s deliberate, making sure he doesn’t accidentally graze something he’s not supposed to (ironically enough), but you appreciate the gesture. 
He gently tugs the material down to your ankles before effortlessly tossing it aside, and you feel yourself swallow.
This isn’t your first time, so you thought you’d know what to expect. But you don’t know what to expect from him. He seems to have a plan (thank God), and you catch the way he eyes your underwear before he glances up at you.
“Ready?” he murmurs, the cadence of his voice rather reassuring. “I’ll just play with you a bit for now, yeah?”
Again, you swallow thickly, forcing the nerves aside. “Yeah, go.”
And from that point on, you decide to proceed with a more clinical mindset. This is practice, exactly like he said. It doesn’t mean anything to either of you, and once it’s over, you doubt you’ll ever mention it again.
It’s just practice.
A cunt is a cunt, a tongue is a tongue, a hand is a hand. Doesn’t matter who they belong to. Pleasure is pleasure, and that’s all there is to it.
You return your attention to your phone as the bed dips, signaling that he’s getting himself into position. You wonder what he means when he says he wants to play with you, and you also wonder if he’ll actually be any good.
But before you can worry that you’ll have to tell him that he’s terrible…he touches you.
You feel his palm, gently smoothing up your right leg, slowly but with purpose. Your breath hitches as you blink at the images flashing across the screen in front of you. You have no idea if you’ll be able to get out of your own head long enough to feel turned on, but you don’t worry about it quite yet.
Then…you feel his thumb.
Your entire body goes still as the pad of his finger brushes down the front of your underwear, right over your clit. There’s just enough pressure to capture your attention but not so much that it feels uncomfortable.
Your chest deflates with a deep breath as you begin to move your focus from the porn to him.
He does it again, a little harder this time around. It’s teasing, almost. Exactly like he said it would be. He’s simply playing with your body and seeing how it reacts. And every time you twitch or your legs begin to tense, you hear him smile, as if making a mental note of it.
For a few minutes, this is all he does. He runs his fingers up and down the fabric in slow but teasing patterns, pressing and sometimes circling as you feel an ache begin to form.
The sounds coming from your phone are successful in urging your body to bend to such salacious intentions. You can feel your muscles unwind as your mind begins to release those doubtful premonitions.
With a flutter of your lashes, you move your phone to the side so you can get a glimpse of the boy between your legs.
He doesn’t seem to notice. Either that or he pretends not to. And for a moment, you aren’t sure what to make of the sight before you. Harry, your best friend, in a staring contest with your cunt and you want to be put off…but you’re not. 
“How’s that?” he murmurs after a moment, his other hand softly stroking the skin of your thigh as he pulls your legs further apart.
Your voice betrays you as you breathe, “Good.”
He looks up. Smiles. “Noted.”
He does it some more, thumbing over your clit before pressing into it and guiding it in a circle. You squirm each time, the faintest of whimpers getting stuck in the back of your throat. 
He seems proud, and you almost want to be annoyed, but you just don’t have the mental capacity to be in this moment.
Maybe when it’s over.
And then, he does something you hadn’t expected.
He dips down…and presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh. Not too close but not too far, and as he does, his eyes find yours.
Shit. “Okay, I’m ready,” you whisper quickly, hips subtly bucking up. “I’m…I think I’m good now.”
His brow raises as he drops his hand and you have to fight the urge to whine. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” You chew on your bottom lip. “I mean, if you are.”
“I am,” he says, glancing back down at your waist. “Yeah, I am.”
So you nod, and anxiously await his next move.
He reaches again for your body, and you want to sigh with relief as he slips his fingers under the band of your underwear to peel it down. 
The cool air is rather chilling and it’s then that you’re made aware of the mess already forming between your thighs. You knew you’d begun to enjoy yourself but you’re surprised by just how much. 
Whether that was because of him or because of the video…you don’t exactly know.
Once the lace has been flicked to the side, he readjusts onto his knees and formulates a plan.
He makes you wait. Watch. Watch as he once again takes your legs in his hands to guide them apart and settle between them.
Watch as he outstretches his palm so he can run it along your hip before moving lower.
Watch as he takes his thumb and brings it back to your clit which is now exposed to his skin.
And the contact is sinful. You’re worked up enough that the immediate connection makes your head drop back, and while you’d like to be embarrassed…you just don’t care.
He drags it down. Down. Presses, rubs, and dips into the wetness that waits for him.
He’s concentrated, and the look on his face is rather adorable. He’s learning. Studying. Observing each and every reaction you offer him as he continues to tease you.
Once in a while, he’ll venture a glance up, perhaps for approval, and you’ll nod quickly. Then, he’ll return to the task at hand as he looks for new ways to make you gasp.
He slides the tip of his finger in without warning and when you whimper, he stills and raises his brow.
You can tell he was aiming for the element of surprise, choosing not to warn you in order to receive this very response, but he’s not sure if that was a sound of approval or unease, so you rush to clarify.
“No, it’s fine,” you mumble. “It’s fine, it’s good.”
“Are you su—”
“Yes, it’s good. Go.”
Encouraged, he pushes in. He’s still wary of your enjoyment but he seems to focus more on the movement of his hand than your expressions. And that’s all right with you. You’re happy to simply sit and…judge. Which is what he’s asked you to do, and you plan to uphold your end of the deal.
He stops when he’s reached his knuckle, finger curling slightly before he’s gently pulling back. He repeats the action a time or two more and the fullness that accompanies the stretch is quite enjoyable.
Your eyes move to the ceiling as you fight the urge to watch him. You’re not that comfortable yet and perhaps watching him would ruin the fun. So, for now, you stare at the white paint above you as he begins to pump his hand a bit faster.
When he adds a second finger, you gasp, and he uses this as leverage to expand his search.
And you know exactly what he’s looking for, the crease between his brows indicative of his captivation.
But just when you’re getting ready to offer some help, he drives in and curls up until the tips of his fingers brush against that particular point of ecstasy.
You inhale a sharp breath and writhe away, faintly panting, “Shit…that.”
Intrigued, he perks up, although he doesn’t relax his pace. “That?”
He does it again and your eyes squeeze shut. “Yeah…yeah, it’s…mhm.”
A smile dances across his lips as he scoots a little closer to watch his own hand as he repeats the action.
You begin to slump down the mattress, limbs turning to jello as he guides your body up toward that familiar ledge, and you hear him hum his approval.
“Good,” he murmurs, you assume in an attempt to soothe you. “Very good, m’proud of you. Seem to be doing really well.”
You stumble over a scoff. “Yeah, well…so are you.”
The grin grows. “Still doing okay?”
“Yes,” you whisper when his thumb ghosts over your clit. “Yeah, I…fuck. I’m…is this all you’re gonna do…then? I thought…I thought you wanted…to…with…the other…”
Nothing that comes out of your mouth is coherent but he seems to understand. “Yeah, I just wasn’t sure if you were ready.”
“I am,” you correct quickly. “I’m…yeah, I’m fine. You can…you’re good. Just do it.”
He dips his head down but doesn’t quite connect as he continues to watch you carefully. “Bee?”
“...wha—shit—what?”
“Thank you.”
Your eyes roll playfully, although perhaps that’s just from the pleasure. “Yeah, yeah, I’m…I’m a fucking saint. Just…fucking do it, okay?”
So…he does.
Those lips you used to stare at move down to your clit and he brushes his mouth over your body for just a moment before you see his tongue.
He takes a moment to decide exactly what he wants to do before he’s pressing that tongue into you and dragging it up from his hand.
You’re so wound up that it doesn’t take much more for you to arch off the bed in search of that feeling. He’s hardly done anything but your head is rolling back across the pillow as your fingers dig into the blanket beneath you.
He nips at you gently, continuing to pump your arousal in and out as it coats his hand, and your mind instantly falls completely blank.
The sounds…god, the sounds. The sound of you, the sound of him, the sound of your body falling apart beneath him.
He’s good. He’s very good, and you almost wonder if he was lying about his inexperience. There’s no way he learned this from porn…at least, you can’t see how. But, he is a perfectionist. Maybe it just comes naturally to him.
“Awfully quiet up there,” you hear him say, and the vibration of the deep tone of voice sparks a chill down your spine. “That bad?”
No! you want to scream but you simply shake your head. “It’s…it’s good. You’re…this is great. This is all…you know…standard…good…stuff.”
When he smiles, your cheeks grow hot. “Guess I have a good teacher.”
“Please,” you huff, pressing your palm to your forehead. “You always—god, always know what you’re doing. I had nothing to do with it.”
He shrugs as his eyes flick across the mess in front of him. “Had more to do with it than you think.”
He dives back in, licking a stripe up before driving his fingers in further. And there’s so much happening. So much that it makes you crazy. There’s him, and there’s you, and there’s that reminder of need that continues to grow. You can’t focus in on any one thing, and honestly...you’re okay with that. 
When he sucks you into his mouth, you have to fight the urge to grab onto him, twisting the duvet around your knuckles as you reel. 
“Don’t,” he mumbles, and you work to figure out what he’s referring to. Did you do something wrong? “Don’t grab the blanket. Grab me.”
You blink down at him. “I’m…no, it’s fine. I was just—”
“Bee, I’m not asking,” he interrupts, rather resolutely. “You wanna do it, so do it. Promise, I don’t mind.”
You certainly aren’t a stranger to this more…authoritative side of him. Although now, you might even…like it? At least, in this context.
“Come on,” he repeats, pulling back only to shoot you a stern look. “She will. And it’ll show me what you like. Don’t be a pussy, just do it. You won’t hurt me.”
And you almost want to fight him, but he’s right, and you can’t argue that. 
So, the moment he returns to his focused work, you reach for those chocolate brown curls and give them a nice tug.
He makes a noise of approval that nearly kills you, lapping at your folds like he’s depraved and you’re his only remedy.
Tina is gonna love it.
He finds a certain rhythm that you respond to well and zeros in. His cheeks hollow every time he sucks on you only to quickly pop off as he presses his tongue beside his fingers. 
Your nails scratch down his scalp and he seems to like it, his other hand grasping onto your thigh so hard you imagine it’ll bruise.
And for just a moment, you actually don’t mind. You concede to the satisfaction he’s offering and you indulge in it. You find gratification in the fact that you accepted and you even decide that maybe…this was a good idea.
“Are you close?” he asks once your whimpers scale up an octave.
You nod quickly. “Yes…yeah, I’m…yeah.”
“Good,” he muses proudly before he’s suddenly removing his hand from your body and pulling away.
You nearly disappear through the mattress as you choke on a dejected whine and look down at him. “What…what happened?”
He breathes out a laugh as he settles onto his knees. “Nothing, I’m just keeping my word.”
His word.
Right.
“You…oh,” you whisper, fighting your disappointment. “Yeah. Well…that was…you did good. That was all…you know, very well done. She’ll like it, you’ll be fine.”
He seems pleased with your approval before his eyes begin to narrow in thought. He watches you haphazardly reach for a throw blanket to cover yourself, but just as you’re getting ready to toss it over your legs, he snatches onto your wrist.
You both still as he studies you. “Bee?”
“...what?”
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “If there’s something you want to ask me…then ask me.”
You blink. “What…what do you mean?”
With his hold still on your arm, he leans closer. “Bee…we agreed, yeah? M’trying to be a good student, but I can’t be if you don’t tell me what you want.”
Your breath hitches the closer he gets. “Har, I don’t know what you’re—”
“Do you wanna come?”
Well…shit. “I…” You begin to shift nervously under his pointed stare. “I was just…”
His expression softens although there’s a hint of smugness swimming behind his smile. “Do you want me…to make you come?” he clarifies as your stomach twists into a knot.
Feigning exasperation, you huff a stray hair from your eye. “Well, what do you think? Obviously nobody likes being edged.”
He’s amused as he begins to lower back down, fingers still wrapped around your wrist. “Then what do you need to do?”
You huff again, shooting a quick glare his way as you watch him drop his gaze to your sensitive cunt. “Harry…come on.”
He clicks his tongue and cocks his head. “Nope, that’s not it.”
You open your mouth, a quippy remark locked and loaded, but right before you can use it…he puckers his lips and blows on your clit.
Your muscles recoil and your throat seems to close up as you pull against his hold. “You fucking asshole, you did that on purpose.”
“Obviously.” He tosses you a wink. “You wanna try again?”
No, I wanna kill you, you think but don’t say. “Harry…please.”
You briefly notice the way his eyelashes flutter at the sound of his name but he doesn’t comment on it. “Please what?”
“Harry—”
“Come on, Bee, you can do it.”
“I just…I…this isn’t…”
“Almost there, that’s it. Be a good girl and ask me.”
Oh, that sadistic fucker. You’d berate him for such a nickname if it didn’t turn you on so goddamn much, especially with the state you're in. You might even wanna hear it again and truth be told, the thought blows your mind.
You swallow a shaky breath. “Harry?”
“Yes?”
“...please make me come.”
A wide smile bursts across his face. “Attagirl.”
And with that…he continues.
You’re thrust back up the precipice of pleasure as he slips three fingers into your aching, dripping cunt. 
And it’s purposeful and practiced and he’s such a liar because he knows exactly what he’s doing, at least to you, and you want to smack him.
But you also want to grab onto his hair and his arm and every inch of his body and never let go because he’s so good for making you feel this way. The best friend you could ever have and why on Earth didn’t you guys try this earlier?
Each curl, each twist, each push in. You feel so full and he feels so good and it’s only his hand and then suddenly…it’s his mouth, too.
And the moment he presses his tongue against you, you lose it. You roll your hips against his face, and lift your back from the bed, and drop your mouth open as a desperate moan falls free.
And it goes, and goes, and goes. Stronger and longer than any other one you’ve ever had and this time, you think it really does kill you.
But he doesn’t stop, not even when you’ve begun to settle. He pushes against the sensitive nerves until tears spring to your eyes. He teases and he tortures and he demands a second orgasm out of you before you can even fight it.
This time, he grabs onto your hips, one hand on either side, to lift you and place you where he wants.
And he tastes you. Savors you on his tongue as if this is for his enjoyment, not yours.
And you look down at him, and you see the flush in his cheeks, and the messy way his hair falls into his eyes, and the veins in his arms as he holds you.
And you lose it. Completely and utterly and permanently.
You disappear into your own head for a moment until his ministrations relax and he slowly—very slowly—begins to let go.
As you fight to catch your breath, you watch him run his thumb across his lip. He’s going to wipe you away, you imagine, but then, to your surprise, he sucks his thumb into his mouth.
When he notices you watching, he raises a brow. “Want some?”
And you can only lay there and stare at him, dumbfounded and blissed-out
He laughs to himself when he notices the spacey expression on your face, moving to hover over your body until he’s only inches away. “Can I try something else?”
“What?” you ask breathlessly.
He smiles. “Kissing you.”
Your eyes widen. “...why?”
He shrugs. “I mean, it’s only polite after something like that, no? Like…a parting gift.”
Your eyes narrow. “How sweet. No, really, that was so romantic. Don’t stop, give me another compliment—”
He presses his lips to yours. And it’s rushed and it’s messy and it’s the perfect parting gift.
It’s him.
And you don’t mind that.
You both grin when he pulls back, chuckling to yourselves as he flops over onto the bed beside you.
He helps you toss the blanket over your legs before he’s turning onto his side, head in his hand as he studies you. “All right, Teach. What do you say?”
You pretend to think. “Well…your dirty talk could use some work.”
He smirks. “Okay.”
“And your incessant need to make me spell it out lost you a few points.”
“Sure, sure.”
“But, overall…that was really good,” you admit, and he beams. “Like…better than I expected, and I kind of think you lied about not knowing what to do.”
He shakes his head playfully as he glances off into your room. “Good to know you had so much faith in me.”
“Oh, I didn’t. Not even a little.”
He snorts. “Well, I meant what I said. I only knew what to do because of you.”
“Yeah right. I didn’t tell you any of that.”
“You did,” he argues, turning his attention back to you. “Not with words, no. But with the sounds you made. The way your breath would catch or the way you’d squirm. Or when your nose would crinkle up ’cause you were trying really hard not to like it.”
Shit…had he noticed that? “I…okay, in my defense…I like almost anything. And I wanted to make you work for it.”
“Oh, is that right?”
“Yeah.”
He rolls over onto his back, grinning up at the ceiling. “All right, well…I still appreciate it.”
“Hey, don’t get all sappy on me now.”
“Fuck off,” he groans. “I mean it, Bee. I was honestly…okay, don’t fucking laugh, but…I was kind of nervous about it. About whether or not she’d like it. Whether or not you’d like it, and…I’m glad you said yes. I’m glad it was you because…you know. It’s you. And I always feel better around you.”
You work to restrain your smile as you look up at the fan spinning above you. “I feel better around you, too.”
He hums.
“Especially after that. I mean…that was good,” you add and he shakes his head again. “She’s gonna love it.”
He turns to you. “Honestly?”
“Honestly.” You meet his eye. “Really, Har, you have nothing to worry about. She’ll show you what she likes just like I did. You know what to do, you just have to listen. And then…you can call me and tell me all about it.”
“Deal,” he agrees eagerly, sticking his pinky between you.
You take it and squeeze. “And I already know what next week's lesson is gonna be.”
Amused, he says, “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
You grin.
“How To Eat Ass 101.”
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Next part:
~ Show Me* (Pt. 2)
~ Full Teach Me Masterlist (with all the other parts plus extras!)
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
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honeytonedhottie · 3 months
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dear diary⋆.ೃ࿔*:・✨
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keeping a diary is so much FUN and helpful not only for my mental health but for overall GIRLINESS. as someone who's been keeping a diary consistently for two years now, i'll be giving some diary resources and tips on how to get started and maintain a diary.
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WHY ITS FUN TO HAVE A DIARY ;
i love to read past entries bcuz first, im rly rly funny and its fun to go back and read what i was writing about at that time and just reminisce on points in my life. it makes for great entertainment and it showcases growth that i've made and the way that my character changed or grew.
its been a game-changer for my mental health bcuz i have a little outlet where i can be completely transparent and just yap endlessly with no one to stop me or invade on my privacy.
TOOLS FOR A PHYSICAL DIARY ;
fluffy pink and purple pens
yummy scented glitter pens
past-able things (examples include ; cut outs from magazines, photos that you've taken and printed, stickers, memo sheets)
some print able and past able resources ;
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decoration for the actual diary like glitter, stickers, ribbons, and frills.
for the actual diary , look for diaries that are pretty (for example, fluffy diaries)
more examples ;
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TOOLS FOR A DIGITAL DIARY ;
a good writing tool (FOR MY DIARY, I USE NOTION)
cute headers + photos to insert into my diary, i find all of my photos on pinterest.
digital diaries are easily a lot less work then physical diaries which is why i keep a digital diary but keeping a physical diary is SO much fun too.
THE ACTUAL WRITING PART ;
everyone will write in their diaries in a different way based on whatever feels the most natural, but for me i start off my entries with "dear diary" and then write in the journal as though i was writing to a friend so its super comfy and relaxed.
i actually have a couple of writing outlets, so i have a journal and i have a diary. my diary is mostly for my day-to-day life. its updated 2x a week (tuesdays and thursdays) in my journal, thats less about my day to day and just random things i wanna write about.
STUFF THAT I HAVE IN MY JOURNAL ;
all about me
girlhood and the little joys of life
why im the most beautiful girl (with proof)
stuff i like
vaunting about myself
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sweetest inbox letters (cuz ur all so sweet)
list of things i've consciously manifested so far this year
my car collection
tattoos i wanna get and why
my unholier thoughts
PROMPTS AND IDEAS ;
angel numbers
favorite song lyrics
list of things to manifest
a love letter (to yourself, crush, etc)
letter to your future/past self
lipstick stain log
current obsessions
pressed flowers
favorite sweet treats (ranked)
list ur crushes and celebrity crushes
favorite quotes in general
ppl that u look up to
doodles
all in all i think that journalling is such a fun and beneficial hobby and hopefully this post can help u to start something that u might rly love. ✨
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mystellenia · 3 months
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nipple sucking with abby ୨ৎ
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summary: nipple sucking with abby. thats it. that's all that happens.
content: thigh riding kinda, nipple play (abby receiving 😈), sub!abby (😈😈😈😈😈), dom!reader (😈😈😈😈), that's all
notes: answer to this req!! im not really a fan of this its super rushed. i havent posted in so long (for the media strike for gaza) and i wanna start slow getting back into it even though i hate this
(wc 0.5k) so short i know i know
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abby is a lover of all things boobs. nipples? sucked. fingers? actively pinching said nipples. okay letsgetittt (i’m too funny how am i single all i do is make the hoes laugh)
abby's hair falls in long waves, a golden curtain around where your lips meet hers. she makes quick work of undoing your composure, your knees slowly tightening more and more around where her legs lay between yours. 
with your back arched, though, you feel abby's chest meet yours, her nipples hard and cutting through her bra and shirt. she normally takes charge, so it's easy to say she was... surprised when your hand shot up to grab her chin to stop her kisses on your neck, directing her to look into your eyes. 
her brows furrow, clearly showcasing her confusion. you give her a slow and deep kiss, only pulling back to murmur into her mouth. 
"shhh—shut the fuck up, okay?" you lowly whisper, unclipping her bra from under her long sleeve and pulling it off of her, then lifting her shirt up to expose her small breasts. she begins to fight you on it, saying she wants to make you feel good, but quickly falls short when you roughly palm her chest, moving your hand to suck on her rosy buds. 
"oh my--" she cried, jerking at the sudden warmth of your tongue. one of her arms drops from her palm down to her elbow, looking down at where your mouth meets her skin. she throws her leg over yours to widen her kneeling position, hoping to regain some level control over her body. 
you pull back to catch your breath, rolling her nipple between your forefinger and thumb and paying close attention to how her body jerks at each movement. she seems far away, her mouth agape and her eyes locked on to your lips, seemingly unaware at how her hips start rolling into yours. 
"i—come back, do that again," she breathlessly pleads, but flicks her eyes between yours worried as you glare up at her with an evil smirk. 
"what do you say?" you mutter. "be polite." 
"please," she begs, "yes, i'm polit—please." 
"because you asked so nicely," you tease and lower your mouth to her boobs, harshly sucking and causing her hips to jerk down into yours, making you moan onto her skin. she looks down at you working on her again and it just seems to spur her on more, because the rocking of her hips gets more fervent, her whines getting louder. you push your thigh up into her cunt and she yelps out, her body sharply twitching and you not stopping your sucking once. 
she leans back onto her heels, her shirt falling back down to cover her skin. her eyes meet yours and the smug grin that graces your mouth, rolling her eyes in embarassment. 
"i didn't know you were a begger, abby," you poke. 
"shut the fuck up," she responds, looking up in annoyance at her cheeks warming. "that's not the last time that's happening, by the way." 
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@picklesarenice69
it's so weird having friends that read my stuff. like hi i hope u had a hearty healthy dinner here is some Fictional Erotica that i wrote like goodnight
click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶
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honeyedmiller · 7 months
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Checkmate | Joel Miller
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pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader
warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (reader is late 20’s, joel mid 40’s), reader is depicted as shorter than joel but otherwise has no other physical description (picture in mood board is for aesthetic purposes only), mutual pining, making out, smut (thigh riding, brief mentions of f oral receiving, unprotected [bc] piv, slight cockwarming, riding), reader’s best friend’s name is hailey, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.
huge thank you to my baby @party-hearses for beta reading this for me. i love you to a million pieces 🖤
a/n: also this is my 900 follower celebration?! i still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people follow me and enjoy what i reblog / write. i love u all so, so much. i also feel kinda bad bc i hyped this one shot up a lot only for the smut to not be that descriptive, but this is more about joel and reader’s feelings than what they essentially do with each other. hope y’all still enjoy it :’)
word count: 4.6k
synopsis: you and your dad’s best friend play a dangerous game, and one of you ends up losing faster than you both anticipated.
dividers by the lovely @saradika
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You wiped your sweaty brow on your forearm as you lugged a fifth box into your new apartment. You’d finally saved up enough to move out of your parent’s place. Your master’s degree had paid off after all, landing you a job in the heart of Austin, Texas. You were only a thirty minute drive from your parent’s house, which your mom totally loved. She couldn’t wait to help you decorate your place and hand you down the pots and pans that’d been in the family for quite some time. 
The move wasn’t necessarily a tough one, because you were ready to get out of your parents’ hair. You all got along well, but you were dying for your own privacy and space that you could call your own. You couldn’t be happier now that you had it. 
In the midst of the move, your dad insisted he’d phone his best buddy, Joel. You’d only heard about him a handful of times while you were away at college, and in the months you’d been back with your parents, your dad always went over to his house to watch sports or hang out. When the whole family was invited over to his house for barbecues, you always found yourself either already having other plans with your friends, or you were working. Today was finally the day you’d meet the mystery man that is Joel Miller. 
And that’s when you saw him. Tall, broad, ruggedly handsome, body clad in an army green shirt that showcased his biceps and veiny forearms, dark jeans that showed off the muscle of his thick thighs, and scuffed up boots from plenty of days, weeks, hell–months of hard work that added an inch or two to his already towering height. 
He must’ve been in his forties if you had to guess. His dark brown hair was dusted with slight specs of gray, the  scruff on his jawline mirroring the hair on his head. His nose was strong, and was perfectly fitted with his face. He had dark brown eyes that were kind yet held some kind of sternness—a look that made your panties easily dampen. His mustache framed his lips that were pursed into a slight frown, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like all over your body. 
He looked at you just the same, all but hungry eyes roaming your body as he caught a glimpse of you for the first time. Like a damn deer caught in headlights. 
He was your dad’s best friend?
Oh, you were truly, utterly, royally fucked. 
You introduced yourself to him and he shook your hand, the calloused pads of his fingers meeting your soft skin sending a string of butterflies through your stomach. 
You genuinely don’t think you’d ever been this attracted to someone at first glance. 
After he and your dad helped you move all of your stuff into your new place, you’d concluded two things: one, Joel Miller was a man of very few words–at least, around you that is, and two: you were sure he was attracted to you just as you were to him. 
Was it so wrong to want someone a little bit older? Perhaps not. What was wrong was that he’s your dad’s best friend. You shouldn’t want someone like that. Someone you were absolutely sure could handle you in the best way possible. 
About a month after you’d finally gotten settled into your apartment, you invited your best friend Hailey over a movie night and a glass of wine. You told her about your predicament, to which she couldn’t help but be the little devil on your shoulder and encourage you to go after Joel. 
“Look, I know he’s your dad’s best friend n’ all, but what he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?” She questions, legs tucked underneath her body as her lips curl into a sly grin before she takes another sip of her wine. 
“I mean yeah, but I’ve never done something like this before. An older man, who’s closely acquainted with my dad? I oughta be out of my damn mind.” You sigh, rubbing your temple. 
“Live a little, babe. You’ve been a good kid to your parents your whole life. It’s time you do something for you for once and go after it. Make a subtle move on him next time. That might spice things up a bit.” She suggests, pursing her lips. 
“You’re right. But if I make a move and it backfires, I’m completely fucked and I’m moving to the other side of the country.” You laugh exasperatingly. 
She reaches over to pat your thigh softly. “Only one way to find out.” 
-
You hadn’t seen Joel as of late, but you weren’t phased by it. It’d been a really busy couple of weeks at work, and you were joining your coworkers tonight for a celebratory t.g.i.f. drink. 
Hailey was over at your apartment getting ready with you and you both were already two shots of tequila in. You weren’t much of a drinker, but truth be told, you needed this night out. 
“So I’m either between this dress or this one.” You explain to Hailey, and she studies the options you held up for her to thoroughly inspect. It was either between a black satin mini dress with sparkly straps, or a strapless maroon bodycon dress 
“This one,” She points at the black dress. “With your red kitten heels.” 
You toss the maroon dress onto your bed and take the black one off of the hanger, changing into the dress after Hailey goes to pour herself another shot. You slip aforementioned heels on and give yourself a once over in your full body closet mirror, satisfied with your appearance. 
You wanted to look and feel hot tonight, and it was safe to say you achieved just that. Maybe you’d pick up some hot guy at the bar tonight. He may not be no Mr. Miller, but anyone to take the tension of the past couple of weeks away would suffice. 
You were applying one last layer of lipgloss when Hailey’s knuckles rapped on your door twice, head peeking into your bedroom. 
“Uber’s here. Let’s go get fucked up.” 
You laugh at her enthusiasm, hot on her trail as you locked up and headed down to your Uber. 
The ride was only fifteen minutes before you pulled up to the bar that was already packed. You both slipped inside, spotting your coworkers at a table. They were laughing about something when you and Hailey walked up, and they all cheerily greeted you with hugs. 
It wasn’t long before the DJ was playing some line dancing songs, and multiple people made their way to the dance floor to move their bodies. You and Hailey were the only ones left at the table as you laughed at your coworkers trying to keep up with the beat of the song. 
“Mr. Hottie over there has been checking you out for some time now.” Hailey leaned into you, nudging your side with her elbow as she jutted her head toward a man at the bar. 
You felt your body drained of warmth as you saw none other than Joel Miller standing at the end of the bar, sipping on his beer tentatively. His eyes were locked on you, and the stupid butterflies rumbled around in your stomach once more. 
“Hailey, that’s him.” You say, swallowing thickly. 
“Who?” She gives you a questioning look, the drinks she’s had tonight making her mind a bit fuzzy. 
“My dad’s best friend. That’s Joel.” You say, and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. 
“Oh, girl, if you don’t make your move I’ll force you to make one. He’s a fucking hunk.” 
Your eyes trailed back over to him, taking in his appearance. He switched out the green t-shirt for a gray one, dark wash jeans, and the same boots he wore when he showed up to help you move into your place. 
The way he was looking at you made you want to do extremely sinful things with him. Fuck. Now or never. 
“I’ll be back.” You tell Hailey, and her expression brightens up and cheers you on as you slip off of your seat. 
You saunter over to Joel, drink in hand, and you sip on it through the straw as you approach him. He looks down at you amused, eyes nearly black as he scans you from head to toe. 
“You stalking me now, Mr. Miller?” You tease, leaning up against the bar top. 
Joel scoffs a laugh and sips on his beer once more. “Y’think I don’t have something better to do with my time than to see where you are on a Friday night?” He retorts, but it wasn’t mean. You were sober enough to hear the hint of playfulness in his tone. 
“Mm, not really.” You shrug, feigning an innocent smile up at him. 
So you could be a brat. He bet he could fix that attitude in no time. 
He chuckled at his own thoughts, finishing off his beer as he set the empty bottle down on the sticky bar top. 
“You caught me, darlin’. Any woman as ravishing as you is worth stalkin’.” The slight curl of his lip made you smile. You sipped on your drink some more as you watched the patrons of the bar dancing to the current song. Your eyes avert back up to his gaze, and you step closer to him. 
His eyes move down to your glossy lips wrapped around the straw, wishing so badly that your lips were wrapped around something else right at that moment. 
“What brings you here tonight, Mr. Miller?” You ask, reaching a hand out to touch his bicep. His body goes rigid at your touch, and you fear you’ve gone too far so your hand immediately drops. Joel does a quick scan of the bar before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his sturdy body. 
“My brother’s best friend’s birthday.” He shrugs, and you nod. You felt like a fucking hummingbird with how fast your heart was beating, and you were sure Joel could feel it with the close proximity between the two of you. 
The air became thick and heavy. Your breathing accelerated, looking up at Joel and into his lust-clouded eyes. His grip on your waist tightened in the slightest, and you nearly whimpered as you felt his bulge through the denim fabric of his jeans. 
“Joel.” Your voice was merely a whisper, and he smirked down at you. 
“Care to line dance, darlin’?” He asked nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrowed as disappointment shot through you. Were you reading the situation wrong? 
“I don’t really know how.” You say, setting your now watered-down drink on the counter. 
“I’ll teach you.” He shrugs, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto the dance floor. He showed you step by step how to move, but your mind was so hazy with lust that you could barely even focus. 
It’d been months since someone touched you in an intimate way, and the burning need and desire was aflame through your body. All you could think about was Joel’s hands and tongue on you as you moaned his name. The thought nearly made you pout. 
“You even listenin’ to me?” Joel pulls you out of your daydream, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. He was teasing and holding out on you and he knew it. 
His face held pure amusement as he watched you squirm under his stare uncontrollably, fidgeting like a little kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to stop by. 
“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You sigh, walking back to the table Hailey was waiting at.
“What happened?” She asks, looking behind you at Joel who was burning a hole in the back of your body. 
“No idea. Guess I’m not getting lucky after all.” You shrug with a disappointed huff of a laugh. You looked back to see if Joel was still there, but he seemed to have disappeared. 
You grabbed your purse and made your way to the bar, leaning over it. The back of your dress rode your thighs significantly, barely covering your ass at this point. Before you could get the bartender’s attention again, you felt a hand on your shoulder pull you back and press you into their body. You were about to mouth off on this person before you realized it was Joel. 
“Fuck, c’mon.” His hand slid down to your wrist, gently tugging it. You looked at Hailey as you started to follow Joel and pointed at him discreetly, and she gave you a thumbs up. 
Joel led you out into the cool air of the night, immediately chilling your whole body. Goosebumps raised onto your skin as he led you to his truck, your heels clicking against the unevenly paved asphalt. 
“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask as you stop in front of a dark truck. 
“I’m about to give us what we both want.” He said before trapping your body against his truck and between both of his strong arms that landed on either side of you. You cocked an eyebrow up at him, eyes and lips glossy underneath the dim parking lot lights. 
“Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ doin’ this.” Joel murmurs before leaning down, smashing his lips with yours. You moan softly into the kiss, carding your fingers into his longer locks. You give the ends a slight tug and he moans into your mouth. You feel the arousal pool in your panties and your untouched core starts to throb. You whine into the kiss, and Joel takes that as an opportunity for his tongue to invade your mouth. 
He tastes like mint now, probably having popped an altoid in his mouth before coming back to get you from the bar. His hands travel downwards and find purchase on your thighs underneath the dress, rubbing circles into your soft skin. He starts to rut his hips into yours, the bulge in his jeans catching onto your clothed clit deliciously. 
“Joel, please.” You choke out as his lips disconnect from yours, hot kisses traveling down your neck and onto your collarbone. 
“Please what, baby?” He asks, voice raspy and muffled as he breathes against your neck. 
“Need you. Fuck, please, just touch me.” You don’t care how desperate you sound to him at this moment. His touch left a trail of flames everywhere his hands landed, and you couldn’t get enough. 
Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the back door of his truck, opening it and helping you slide in. He got in right after you, closing and locking the doors. Your chest was rapidly heaving up and down, trying to catch your breath from the intense moment. 
Joel didn’t give you much leeway, though, because as soon as he spread his legs to get comfy in the backseat, he was pulling you on top of him. You closed the gap between you two this time, rutting your hips forward so your heat sat right on top of his bulging crotch. He groaned lowly, looking down to where your dress had ridden up. He saw your pink lace panties that you had on, and god were you grateful you chose to wear those tonight.
Joel hummed in appreciation as he slid his calloused hands up the smooth skin of your thighs, looking back up to meet your gaze. Your lipgloss was nearly gone off of your lips and onto Joel’s, and he had to admit he liked the sticky cherry flavor. 
“Your daddy would kill me with his bare hands right now if he saw what I was doin’ with his darlin’ daughter.” Joel chuckles, shaking his head. 
“That’s why he won’t find out,” You shrug. “Besides, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions and decide what I want… and what I want is you, Mr. Miller.” 
Joel raises an eyebrow and huffs a small laugh. “That right?” He questions, grip getting slightly tighter on the soft flesh of your thighs. 
“Mhm.” You nod, hand cradling the back of his head. 
“What we’re doin’—this is bad.” Joel chastised, mostly to himself. 
“Relax, Joel. I won’t tell if you won’t.” You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck through your fingers, applying more pressure onto his groin. He grunts in response, adjusting himself slightly as the confinement of his jeans was nearly torturous at this point. 
“Fine. But we’re endin’ this whole hookin’ up thing if anyone gets even the slightest bit suspicious.” He negotiates, and you nod. 
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miller.” 
Joel chuckles and shakes his head, leaning up to capture your lips into his once again. You hum against him, hands moving down to his chest as your nails scratch over the thin fabric of his shirt. 
You start to grind yourself onto him again, and he groans once more before separating his lips from yours to mumble against them. “Use my thigh, baby.” He shifts you onto his left thigh, and you steady yourself on him by gripping his shoulders. 
“I don’t wanna ruin your pants.” You sigh, the pressure of your clothed clit on his thick thigh already providing the tiniest bit of relief. 
“I don’t give a shit about my pants, baby. Soak ‘em for all I care.” He presses his lips to your neck once more, and you shiver at the contact. You’re shy at first, not ever having gotten yourself off on someone’s thigh before. 
Joel senses your hesitation, so he moves his hands back up to your hips and shifts them forward, causing your soaked cunt to glide along his jean-clad thigh. 
You take over yourself, rocking your hips back and forth at a languid pace. Desperate moans are falling out of your mouth as you fist his shirt into your hands, feeling yourself so close already. 
“Joel, feels so-so fucking good.” You whine, head dropping back. Your jaw goes slack and eyebrows thread together, picking the pace of your hips up. 
“Yeah? Such a good fuckin’ girl, takin’ what she needs to get off.” 
“I need you, Joel, please.” 
Joel moved his hands to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans button to take his jeans off in the slightest, finally relieving his erection. You moaned at the sight of his thick cock, pre cum gathered at the tip. You brought your thumb to his slit, gathering the pre cum onto your finger before bringing it up to your mouth to gently suck on it. 
Joel’s jaw ticked, resisting the urge to bend you over the back of his seat and fuck you senseless then and there. Luckily, he had a lot more restraint than he thought, because all he did was just stare at you sucking seductively on your thumb. 
You shifted yourself so you were straddling both of his thighs now, and you grabbed his cock into your hand to give it a few slow tugs. Joel sucked in a breath at your touch, head being thrown back onto the headrest of the seat. You tugged your panties to the side before you ran the tip of his weeping cock through your slick folds, a lewd wetness sounding throughout the cab of the truck. 
You moaned as Joel hissed at the contact. It’d been awhile since Joel had been with someone, so he prayed to whatever god was out there that he’d be able to last. 
“C’mon baby, don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” Joel grunts, fingertips digging into your hips. You look down at him with half lidded eyes as you sank down onto his length without much resistance. 
The stretch was fucking heavenly. Your lips parted as you puffed out a pant and sucked in a breath shortly after, reaching the hilt. 
“So fucking big. Fuck.” You mewl, fingers digging into his shoulders for balance once more. 
“Stay still for a little.” Joel’s voice was strained, sounding nearly pained as he choked out his words. You felt so good wrapped around him that he just wanted to appreciate your warmth. 
Joel slid the sparkly straps of your dress down your shoulders, tugging down the neckline of your dress to reveal your breasts. His tongue darted out of his mouth to briefly wet his lips, large hands moving up to gently squeeze the soft flesh of your chest. 
“So fuckin’ perfect.” Joel whispers, moving his head down to envelope one erect nipple into his mouth while his thumb and index finger toyed with the other. You moved one hand up his chest and to the back of his hair, threading your fingers through the thick locks once more as you pushed his face deeper into your pillowy flesh. 
The feeling of his expert tongue and heavy cock in you was beginning to be too much. You needed him to move, or at least let you move. You weren’t above absolutely begging him until he gave in, but he seemed to have the same idea as his hips thrusted into you. 
You took that as an initiative to move, so you began to slowly glide yourself up and down on him. You sucked in a sharp breath as the feeling of him repeatedly filling you made your legs shake. He took his mouth off of your swollen flesh to avert his gaze to yours, eyes locking as you moved up and down. He moved a hand down to generously rub at your aching clit, causing your cunt to deliciously clench around him. 
“Gonna ruin this tight little pussy. Just you wait.” His voice is throaty and deep, sending shivers down your spine. The dangerous glint in his eye let you know that he was dead serious. 
You wanted Joel Miller to ruin every other man for you. 
That’s how this, the dangerous thing—the game—started. 
You both were determined to win at something that wasn’t even tangible; something so lucrative to both of you that the consequences wouldn’t even fucking matter. 
It didn’t matter as he took over and fucked his hips up into you at a brutal pace, causing you to orgasm violently on his cock within minutes. It didn’t matter when the windows of his truck fogged up and the drag of your fingertips adorned the glass. It didn’t matter when you reassured him he could cum in you because you were on birth control. 
As months went on after that night at the bar, him fucking you up against the wall of his shower or pounding you into your bed or eating your pussy until you physically could not breathe anymore was all that dazed your mind. 
Fuck the consequences. 
None of it fucking mattered. 
Because, over the months, Joel Miller was the kind of man you didn’t mind having in your bed after you two’ve fucked. You didn’t mind when he slept over, or when he wanted to be the little spoon, or when you both went out on dates like a normal couple would. 
The euphoria of it all didn’t last forever, though. You knew it wouldn’t, but the heavy weight and reality of it all came crashing down on you one day when Joel was buried deep into your warm cunt, both of you teetering on the edge of a climax, when your dad came knocking on your front door. Pure panic seized your body and you had to make Joel hide in your closet like a fucking teenager. 
That’s when you realized you both were way in over your head with this whole thing. Getting caught was going to be inevitable if it kept up like this. 
You were eternally grateful that your dad was a man who didn’t hover. He left your apartment after fifteen minutes and when Joel came out from hiding, you told him that it was way too close and it was too risky to keep doing what you both wanted to never put a stop to. You’d silently promised yourself that was the last time with him. 
Joel tried to argue against it, but you put your foot down. That is, until you got slightly buzzed one night and begged Joel to come fuck you. Truthfully, you didn’t even really need the sex from him. It was just a plus. You just enjoyed being around him so much that having him in some way, even if only physically, was to suffice. 
Little did you know, he felt ten times stronger than what you felt. Joel Miller would worship the ground you walked on, if you allowed him to do so. 
He was at your doorstep in no time, pushing you against the wall and kissing you with such neediness as if you’d disappear right beneath his fingertips. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of panties to which Joel discarded immediately. His thick fingers rubbed against your slick heat, hips bucking to meet the languid pace he set. 
Joel shouldn’t be here.
You promised yourself the last time would be the fucking last. 
And yet, you found yourself willingly shoved up against the wall of your living room by none other than the man you swore you’d stay away from as he leaves hot, fervent kisses along the slope of your neck.
“Joel, we—fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this. We have to stop.”
“Yeah? Not what you were sayin’ when you were practically beggin’ me to fuck you again over the phone.” He grits. He sinks his fingers into your aching cunt, prying a strangled moan from your throat.
He’s frustrated with himself. 
Frustrated that he so easily succumbed to you, allowing himself to wrap himself in the greedy need and carnal desire he had for you. Frustrated that you were twenty years younger than him, and frustrated that you should’ve been off limits.
You were supposed to be off limits, god damnit, but Joel Miller was a greedy fucking man. He just had to have you in a way that nobody else could. 
He really didn’t blame your father if he strangled the man  with his own bare hands if he ever found out what you two did behind his back, in secret, and for months at that. 
Joel knew better. 
He fucking knew better and still decided to get a taste, get a feel, fuck you like no other man had. Something his greed deliciously sunk its teeth into, allowing himself to indulge in the forbidden realm you offered to give him. 
You knew better, too. But you did get one thing you wanted, after all. 
You’d be a fucking liar if you didn’t admit that Joel Miller had officially ruined every other man for you. 
The dangers of the game had sunk its teeth so deep into both of you. It was like the world’s most impossible chess match, and one of you was finally waiting for the other to say “checkmate.” 
 The thing is, Joel lost a long while ago. 
He fucking lost the game. 
He couldn’t stay away from you no matter how hard he tried, and when you called him begging him to fuck you tonight, his need for you practically drowned him in his weakness. 
Joel Miller was not a weak man. You had him under a fucking spell that he couldn’t seem to reverse. 
It’s like you were his fucking kryptonite. 
He was the one that royally fucked in the end. 
Joel wished he didn’t have these feelings that clawed at his fucking rib cage every time he glanced at you, some sort of animalistic creature trying to escape when you were under him, legs spread wide, your warmth wrapped around his cock as he buried himself in you.
Every single time he had you like that, had his lips on you, had you moaning his name like a prayer on Sunday mornings, saw your sweet smile, smelled your perfume that he loved so much, heard your contagious laugh, he knew he lost.
Checkmate. 
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tags: @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy ; @holesandlividity ; @planet-marz1 ; @joelmillers-whore ; @cool-iguana ; @janaispunk ; @freakygothgirl ; @survivingandenduring ; @clawdee ; @danaispunk ; @kiwisbell ; @untamedheart81
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astrologuzzy · 11 months
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✿ MORE ASTRO OBSERVASHUNS ✿
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I’m back to spill more astrology observations, lessgetit!!! ˃̵ᴗ˂̵
Also, quick reminder that these are just MY observations and opinions I’ve gathered, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t! mwahhh 😽💋
☆ 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 seem to really like physical displays of affection very much. Every Gemini I knew always loved giving hugs specifically lol. They may enjoy physical touch as a love language.
★ I often notice how 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 aren’t scared to give their opinions no matter how controversial they may be. They don’t care if people agree, if they truly believe in it then they will share it and whoever disagrees can kiss their own ass. Which can seem intimidating to many especially with how much intensity and passion Scorpio brings to the table.
☆ I find it so easy to spot someone with 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. You guys give a very mellow and grounded energy that is very specific to Earth signs. Y’all have that signature down to earth presence or a very firm/calm tone of voice that I recognize instantly even thru text lol.
★ Everyone wants to call Leos the most “cocky” sign but have y’all seen 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈? They’re the real culprit here lol. These guys are number one fans of themselves (do I even need to make examples lol) and I respect it tbh.
☆ Speaking of 𝐋𝐄𝐎, they love to just disappear for like days or weeks straight out of absolutely nowhere and then come back like nothing happened and resume from where they left off. Like sir, are you not gonna explain why you just ghosted everybody? Lol like are you gonna explain where you was? (double points if that Leo has Sagittarius or Aquarius influences in chart cos they’re even more prone to going mia).
★ When people have 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 in their big 6 or heavy Mars influence in the chart I notice that they tend to sound/come across way ruder than they’re actually being lol. They can be very dominant and intimidating in conversations. You’d think they’re angry or being mean but they’re just asking you to pass them the water bottle lmao. Often I think they don’t even realize that themselves since they’re just built that way.
☆ People with 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 & 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 in their big 3 together kinda scare me lol (in a good way). They usually are very into occult stuff and/or are strongly religious and showcase it very openly and firmly. Sometimes they just have a very intimidating aura/demeanor to them. I notice how they frequently tend to be very into dark colors and themes/styles too. They don’t f*ck around at all. Love y’all 💚
★ People with a 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐔𝐍 usually have their Moon sign qualities be more noticeable. With Geminis I tend to catch onto their Moon sign behavior before I realize that they’re a Gemini. Could be a mutable thing where they’re versatile enough that their Moon qualities shine more than their sun sign qualities. Very frequently when I try to guess a Gemini’s sun sign I actually guess their Moon sign. They tend to act like their Moon more than other zodiac signs in my experience. They may not even notice it either.
☆ I hope I don’t offend anyone for this one but people with a 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 (frequently more moon) mother tend to have veryyyy chaotic childhood stories about her. Somehow these moms tend to often be pretty emotionally unhinged people (no offense but in my experience so many of my friends have a mom with a Pisces sun and/or Pisces moon and they all always tell me how their moms have crazy mood swings or a very erratic behavior). I’m honestly so sorry for anyone who had, or still has to deal with such an environment. 🫂💚
★ 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 & 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 are the best opposite sign duo in astrology imo. I’ve never seen many Geminis or Sags that say they dislike or don’t get that along with one another. We really click well and even I personally can testify that lol. These two always besties.
☆ Also 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 loooove anything to do with 2D characters or just fictional stuff in general. They love their ffs, romance books, making fan arts or edits. Every Pisces I knew had some kind of obsession with multiple fictional characters or shows and each one of them had accounts dedicated to making art or edits about said characters/shows lol. No matter if it’s a manga, an anime, a video game, a song, a movie or a cartoon, a Pisces placement will most probably romanticize a character or wtv it is they feel resonates with them in some way. I know lotta people do that but Pisces are usually more prone to be very frequent and indulgent with it in my experience. Not judging anyone, just pointing it out lol.
That’s all for todayyy ☀︎
Also please don’t copy or claim my content without credit or consent ♡
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nanowrimo · 10 months
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How to Use Meal Scenes to Develop Characters, Relationships, and Your World
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Worldbuilding can sound complicated, but why not make it a little more simple by focusing on food? It may be the domestic touch you need! NaNo Participant Lacey Pfalz talks about using meal scenes to develop your world and your characters.
There’s one thing that remains a universal human truth: we love food! While our perspectives on food might differ, people all across the globe gather together during mealtimes — and thus, mealtimes are made memorable.
Meal scenes can also help your story in a few key ways, especially if it’s fantasy, science fiction or historical fiction.
Meal Scenes for Worldbuilding
If we’re using food for worldbuilding purposes, does that mean we can say we’re worldcooking?
Just kidding! Worldbuilding, especially in historical fiction, science fiction, and fantasy, is an integral part of what you must do as a writer (In truth, it’s also important for writers from other genres, but we’re specializing in these three today).
Meal scenes can be an important part of the worldbuilding process. Food is intrinsically tied to a culture or a country, or even a small region. That’s why it’s important, when building your own world, to take time to figure out the bare minimum of what your characters will be eating.
Let’s do an example. Your world is fantasy, your kingdom set beside a wide river. Perhaps your capital city, where much of the action is located, is surrounded by wetland.
If this is the case, what types of food would likely grow there? Seafood, fished from the large river, might be your characters’ staple proteins, while rice might grow better than another grain because of your kingdom’s wetlands. Fruit, perhaps even coconuts, might be the sweet stuff your main character loves to devour.
Remember that your world directly affects what types of food your characters will be having: is there coffee in space? What about in Byzantine Turkey or your new riverside kingdom?
Shannon Chakraborty does a phenomenal job with this in her fantasy series The Daevabad Trilogy, which is set in the eighteenth century across the Middle East. Her first book, The City of Brass, is especially good at showcasing the often-fragrant dishes of the various cultures across this region of the world (some copies of the book even have a short list of recipes from the book that foodies can try whipping up for themselves).
While her book is set within the fantastical world of the Djinn, her food is based upon recipes that have been preserved for centuries.
There’s one small reminder with all of this: it’s important not to get too caught up in describing each dish so much that you end up taking the focus away from the characters in a meal scene. Meal scenes can be breaks from fast action, but they should also continue the plot.
Meal Scenes for Developing Characters & Relationships
Character development can be hard, especially if you have a handful of characters that you love! But in order to make your readers love them too, you have to show them interacting with the world around them.
That guy we love to hate? Maybe he’s a loner who has grown up eating by himself. Having him forced to sit and eat with a group of people who have known each other for years might be an awkward moment for him, but it helps readers to learn more about his own worldview — and it might just help get him out of his shell, or at least off the love-to-hate list.
Besides helping you develop a single character, writing meal scenes with some of your characters can also help readers learn more about the relationship between your characters.
Let’s say you have your main character, MC. MC leans over and steals a French fry from her best friend. There’s no issue, right? That’s because they like each other, and the best friend has likely eaten with MC before, and knows she enjoys stealing food from other people’s plates.
But when MC tries it again, this time with the guy sitting next to her, he whacks her hand to stop her from stealing. This sparks an argument that seems, at least to everyone else watching it, pointless, but readers will know from the rest of the story that they’re the enemies-to-lovers trope. This argument is just one of many before they finally acknowledge their feelings towards one another.
See how that worked? A meal scene wasn’t useless; it pulled the story along by giving readers another taste of the enemies-to-lovers trope that so many enjoy reading.
If you need a more visible example of how this can play out, try watching a movie like Pride & Prejudice, (the book is amazing, but I’m suggesting the movie as a visual aid). The movie does a great job showcasing just how different the members of the Bennet family are individually, how they act around each other, and how they act around company.
There’s often little action in meal scenes, so they’re not meant to be overused. The plot should also still be there — take the cringey proposal scene between Mr. Collins and Elizabeth in Pride & Prejudice, for example, which follows directly after a meal when the rest of her family abandons her. In this case, the plot (and Mr. Collins’ advances) ruin her meal.
Perhaps your meal scene is the much-needed respite in between battling fierce aliens for planet Earth, or the first time your main character’s enemy-to-lover has entered her home. Either way, meal scenes are an important way to immerse your readers in what kind of world they’re imagining as well as showcasing how your characters act and — more importantly — how they act around each other.
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Lacey Pfalz is a travel journalist by day, hopeful author by night. She belongs to the class of graduates she dubs the Class of COVID-19, having graduated with a double major in history and writing at Wisconsin Lutheran College in 2020. Her writing passions include fantasy, science fiction and historical fiction (with a little bit of romance, of course!). As someone with a physical disability, it’s her dream to write a fantasy series featuring a main character like her. Header Image by Jack Sparrow
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elfwreck · 14 days
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I have a friend who isn't anti-porn but it makes her sad that fanfic has a reputation for being porny and usually not very good. I'm fine with both those things and my views mostly align with that of AO3. I disagree with the idea that porn and badness are treated as equivalent, but for most people that's just how they think. But I was wondering if youve ever written something about this?
There is a lot of smut at AO3.
There is a lot of bad writing at AO3.
There's a lot of badly written smut at AO3.
...None of those are problems except for the people who think there is something wrong with those existing, or that there needs to be some external value that "balances" those that make those acceptable to exist as unwanted side-effects of "the good stuff."
The badly-written smut is also "the good stuff."
It's part of the reason AO3 exists. It's not intended to be an archive for "the high-quality fanfic that could be published if it weren't about characters that someone else wrote first"; it's an archive for "what fanfic writers want to write." That makes the terrible writing and the tacky porn and the badly-written tacky porn part of the reason the archive exists.
Tangent 1 (I'll connect these points later): Theodore Sturgeon said "90% of everything is crud." He was more-or-less referring to the science fiction field in the 50s, but it definitely extended to politics, business, and writing outside of science fiction.
...He was talking about published books in the 50s. Turns out, a lot more than 90% of writing is crud when there aren't any gatekeepers between it and the readers. But also:
Tangent 2, from the book "Art and Fear":
[A] ceramics teacher announced on opening day that he was dividing the class into two groups. All those on the left side of the studio, he said, would be graded solely on the quantity of work they produced, all those on the right solely on its quality. His procedure was simple: on the final day of class he would bring in his bathroom scales and weigh the work of the “quantity” group: fifty pound of pots rated an “A”, forty pounds a “B”, and so on. Those being graded on “quality”, however, needed to produce only one pot — albeit a perfect one — to get an “A”. Well, came grading time and a curious fact emerged: the works of highest quality were all produced by the group being graded for quantity. It seems that while the “quantity” group was busily churning out piles of work – and learning from their mistakes — the “quality” group had sat theorizing about perfection, and in the end had little more to show for their efforts than grandiose theories and a pile of dead clay.
You don't get to "quality writing" without going through a lot of crappy writing.
That doesn't mean the crappy writing is garbage to be thrown out. If you make 50 pots or bowls or vases, and only one of them is The Good One... most of the rest are okay. Maybe not sale-quality good, but your-kitchen-table quality good. Maybe some aren't that good and are kids-toy-in-the-sandbox level good.
Bad writing has a purpose for the writer: they can use it as practice to get better. It has a purpose for the reader: It can serve as inspiration ("I can do better than that") or grammatical instruction ("that...does not work; why doesn't that work?") or just as entertainment ("eh, so it's missing a few commas; I can still understand it").
Smut and porn writing works the same way. It's of some value to the writer, and some to the readers.
It's not of value to everyone. That's what tags and filters are for, and why there's a summary and list of stats (like word counts)--so you can figure out if you're one of the readers for whom this piece of writing is useful or interesting.
But AO3, like any library, is not there to take the top 5% of Excellent Writing and provide it a showcase. It is absolutely for all 50 lbs of pots.
If your friend wants to read the good stuff, there are rec lists and collections to help her find it.
If she already manages that, and is just annoyed at how much of the not-good stuff (however she defines that) exists... she's picked the wrong battle. She's arguing with the ocean that it has too many kinds of fish and some are poisonous a lot of them are ugly.
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