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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 10 months

Text

Sweet Little Sister

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Request: Could you do one where you're Steve's little sister and you go to Eddie to get a tattoo? But it's really a ruse because you have a crush on him and are trying to work up the courage to tell him. Then, you know...😉

18+ only

“Harrington? What are you doing here?” Eddie asked, confusion written all over his face to find you at the door to his trailer.

You pushed your hair back, gazing up at the metalhead that you’d been crushing on for two years. You’d noticed him at the beginning of your junior year, his first time repeating senior year. Fuck, he was so beautiful. Standing there in just a pair of sleep shorts, blank ink standing out harshly against his pale chest, that mess of dusky waves falling over his bare shoulders, was almost too much for you to handle. It took everything in you not to turn and run, but no, you had to play this cool. You’d come up with a plan and you were going to see this through. This was no time to chicken out if you ever wanted a shot with him.

Your brother, Steve, knew him because they had some weird shared friendship with a freshman, Dustin Henderson. The two had become friends over the past year and having him around only intensified your fixation on the Hellfire Club’s dungeon master. You’d never been brave enough to say anything though, sticking to casual conversation about his DnD club, his band, school, etc. He’d even sold you some weed once and you had intended on making a move but you’d bailed at the last minute.

“I actually came to ask you a favor,” you answered softly, willing your heart to slow down.

“Oh yeah? What kind of favor is that, princess?” he mused with a smile, his elbow propped against the doorframe as he leaned into you. “Does Harrington’s sweet little sister need more weed?”

“No, not that,” you muttered quickly. “I uhh…well, I’ve heard that you did all your own tattoos?”

“Yeah, I did,” he replied slowly, leaning back and crossing his arms, eyes narrowing, lips pressed together, as he considered you, clearly wondering where this was going.

“I actually want a tattoo and I was wondering if you’d do it.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide and then he started laughing, “Harrington’s infamous little sister wants me to tattoo her? Now, that shit is funny. And what, pray tell, does big brother think about this?”

“Steve doesn’t know,” you insisted, straightening your spine, trying to appear far more brave than you felt. “He doesn’t get a say. It’s my body and I’m eighteen. I can do what I want.”

Eddie’s lips pursed in amusement, “Kitty’s got claws. Surprising. Okay then. Come on in to my palace, princess and tell me what you’re thinking.”

“O…okay…” you stammered as he stepped back, sweeping his arm out. You stepped inside his trailer and he gestured to the couch, the two of you sitting next to each other.

“Alright, darling, what are you thinking of getting? Do you have a picture or something?”

“Oh, yeah,” you mumbled, reaching in your back pocket and handing him a folded up piece of notebook paper. “I actually drew out my idea. It’s fairly simple actually.”

Eddie opened it up, turning his head as he looked at the drawing. It was two butterflies, just basic outlines, flying off into the sky. He glanced up at you, nodding.

“I can totally do this. Can I ask why this?”

You felt the flush creep into your face, “You’ll probably think it’s stupid. It’s supposed to represent me and Steve, umm, getting away from our parents? You know, flying away and finally being free? I mean, it hasn’t happened yet but I am planning on getting a job once this school year is over and we’ve talked about renting a place together then. Getting the hell out of that house is all I want.”

Eddie chuckled softly, “That’s not stupid, sweetheart. I think that’s pretty cool actually. You two willing to give up all that money? Must be worse than Harrington even admits.”

You swallowed hard, “Yeah, well…”

Sensing your discomfort, he changed the subject, “Okay, where were you thinking?”

Okay, here came the part that had you the most nervous, the part where you set out the bait and hoped he took it. You inhaled deeply before pulling your shirt over your head. Eddie’s eyes bulged with shock as you took his hand, placing it over your heart.

“I was thinking right here,” you whispered. “What do you think?”

“I…uh…I…” Eddie stammered nervously, tongue running over his bottom lip as he sat, frozen, his hand on your chest. “I…yeah, I mean…I can do it there. It’s uh…kind of where I did one of mine.”

“This one?” you inquired, tilting your head, one hand still covering his, the other rising to his chest, fingertip tracing over the demon head, your confidence bolstered by the way he shivered under your touch.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he swallowed.

“I like it,” you told him. “Do you think mine would be better there or…” Releasing his hand, you hooked the loops of your jeans in your fingers, sliding them down your legs. Taking his hand once again, you placed it on your stomach, just above lacy pink panties you’d worn just for this. “Here?”

“Fuck…” Eddie muttered, closing his eyes. “I…uh…it’s up to you really. I…Jesus Christ…”

“Eddie?” you said softly, your other hand coming under his chin. “Are you okay?”

“No, not really,” he replied, shaking his head. “You’re standing here in your bra and underwear and I’m trying really hard to be respectful. I mean, you’re Harrington’s sister.” His eyes opened and he moaned. “But fuck, I mean, look at you.”

You bit your bottom lip, smiling, pleased at his reaction, “What if I don’t want you to be respectful? What if I want you to look?” You took both his hands, sliding them along your stomach and over your breasts, holding them there. “To touch?”

“Holy shit…uh…I…what…” Eddie looked like a deer in headlights, frozen, staring up at you.

“Eddie, I want you,” you told him softly. “I’ve wanted you ever since the first day of my junior year. Do you remember? You passed me a spray paint can and said thanks sweetheart, flashing me a smile. Principal Higgins was hot on your heels because he’d found your artwork in his office.”

“Oh damn,” Eddie chuckled. “That was some of my finest work. A massive dick covering his wall. I even painted over his college degree. Well, shit, you saved my ass that day.” He rose from the couch, his nerves suddenly gone, large hands covering your hips, the metal of his rings cool against your flesh. “I guess I owe you, huh?”

“You really do,” you breathed, eyes closing as he tilted his head down, lips a breath away from yours. Finally, you were going to get everything you’d only fantasized about.

“You sure about this, sweetheart?” he whispered softly, lips brushing over your cheek. “Once we do this, there’s no taking it back.”

“I don’t want to take it back.”

Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to yours, heat spreading through every fiber of your being, settling in your center. Dear god, help you, those full lips were even more delicious than you could have imagined. His tongue slid past your lips, licking every inch of your mouth and your knees buckled, your fingers grasping at his hair for purchase and you knew nobody could help you now. You were completely lost in everything that was him. The pads of his fingers pressing into your skin, velvety tongue exploring your throat, luscious lips devouring yours, fluffy strands of wavy hair between your fingers, hard chest and warm skin pressed against yours.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groaned, dropping to his knees in front of you. “I’ve imagined what you look like without your clothes, princess, but you are even more beautiful than I could have imagined.”

His nose ran over your thigh and you inhaled sharply, head dropping back. He turned you, running his hand over your asscheek as he grunted. You shrieked when you felt his teeth biting into a chunk of your flesh. The sharp sting was followed by soft kisses and then his hands were guiding you to face him again.

“Eddie…” you gasped, his breath hot against your already burning center as he nuzzled himself against your panties.

“Can I?” he asked, those warm eyes questioning as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties. All you could do was nod. Slowly, so achingly slowly, he dragged your panties down your legs. You lifted one ankle and then the other so he could fully remove them. "Fucking hell..."

His nose ran along your folds and as it bumped over your clit, you whimpered, reaching out, grabbing his shoulders to hold yourself up. Eddie's hand gripped your calf, lifting your leg and bringing it over his shoulder, opening you to him. Those lips tortured you, biting and sucking the skin along your inner thigh and then the other, leaving marks you knew would show tomorrow. It gave you a thrill of pleasure thinking about Eddie's handiwork concealed under your clothes where only you knew about it.

"Please..." you pleaded, losing all sense of control, needing him like your lungs needed oxygen, like your veins needed blood rushing through them.

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

Flattening his tongue, he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit and you shuddered, a guttural moan falling from your lips, nails digging into his flesh as your legs threatened to give out. Jesus, this man was talented. His tongue was making love to your clit, circling and flicking and rolling in ways you hadn't even known were possible.

"Eddie, that's so good. Oh my god," you panted, chest heaving, knowing it was going to take you no time to reach your peak but fuck, you never wanted it to end.

"Mmm, you taste so good, sweetheart. I could die a happy man buried between these thighs," he hummed against you.

Just when you thought nothing could feel better than this, his lips latched around your clit and two fingers pressed into you, sending you to an entirely new level of pleasure.

"Oh...fuck!" you cried, teetering, falling, plunging into an abyss you would never crawl out of. "I can't...oh my god...Eddie...I..."

"You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"

Eddie's fingers curled within you, his mouth leaving your center and making it's way up your body. His thumb replaced his tongue, circling over your clit. Your eyes closed, helpless whimpers rising out of you. With his other hand, he gripped the back of your neck.

"Open your eyes for me, beautiful," he commanded. "I want to watch you cum for me." Your eyes fluttered open, a struggle against the coil winding tightly within you. "That's a good girl. Cum all over my fingers."

"Eddie..." you keened, back arching, his hand the only thing supporting your body as the most powerful orgasm you'd ever experienced in your life imploded through your body. It was like being burst apart from the inside, like shooting stars rocketing through the sky, like a tornado blowing everything apart. It was like nothing you'd ever felt.

"That's my girl," he praised with a grin, fingers slipping from inside you, leaving you feeling empty. "Fuck, you look beautiful when you cum. I could watch that over and over again."

You whimpered at his words, the very thought of doing this, having this with him for more than one night was almost too much to bear, too much to hope for. You arms came around his neck, your lips pressed to his once again, desperate for more, desperate for as much as you could get of him.

"Someone not satisfied yet?" he sang, pulling back with a grin, tongue running over his teeth. "We can't have that." His hands gripped your ass and hefted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, lips moving over yours as he carried you into his bedroom.

He dropped you on the bed, quickly covering your body with his own. One of his hands slid behind your back, unhooking your bra and pulling the straps down over your arms.

"Fuck, you're so damn beautiful. You're like...perfect..." he commented, eyes raking over every inch of you, causing your body to flush with pleasure.

Then his lips were on your chest, covering every inch, teeth and tongue raking along your nipples, threatening to send you over the edge again. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you, needing more, needing to feel all of him.

"Fuck me," you pleaded.

Eddie's head popped up from your chest, eyes glinting devilishly. Kissing his way back up your body, he placed his hands on either side of your head, eyes burning into yours, dark waves brushing your skin.

"You want my cock, princess?" he inquired, teasing. "Want me to fill that pretty little pussy?" You nodded, panting beneath him at just the thought. "Did you fantasize about this? Huh, beautiful? Did you lay in your bed, in that big house, your fingers slipping into your pussy, imagining it was me?"

"Yes," you breathed, biting your lip. "Yes...all the fucking time. Please. I want you, Eddie. I need you."

"Need me? I like the sound of that." He rose from the bed, removing his shorts and boxers. You almost fucking salivated at the sight of him naked in front of you, something you'd imagined but you'd never gotten it right. He was so damn perfect. Grabbing a condom from the dresser, he ripped it open with his teeth, sliding it over his length.

Eddie crawled back over the top of you, lips dropping next to your ear, "Can I tell you a secret? I've jacked myself off to the thought of you under me a thousand time."

And then he was thrusting into you and it was perfection. It was angels singing on fluffy white clouds. It was rainbows glittering across a blue sky. It was sweet, cold ice cream on a hot summer day. It was a crackling fire and a cozy blanket after you came in from the cold. It was every fucking thing that was perfect and good in this world.

"Oh fuck yes..." you cried, wrapping your legs around him, heels digging into his ass in an attempt to pull him even deeper into you.

Eddie grunted, rutting inside of you, bottoming out as he rose up, one hand on the headboard. His eyes focused on the spot where he was entering your body, watching himself slip inside your warmth each time.

"Oh sweetheart...you feel so goddamn good..." he groaned, his hips rolling slowly, relishing every single thrust. "So fucking good, princess."

Your body jolted, tiny electric shocks dancing over your skin, your nerves endings on fire as flames of pleasure raced through you. Eddie's hands slid along your legs, gripping your calves and lifting them up, pushing them until they were back by your ears, causing his cock to reach a whole new depth, a depth you hadn't known existed.

"Fuck!" you screamed, eyes rolling back in your head.

"Yes. Oh shit, baby, I am so close. Are you close, princess?"

You nodded frantically, words lost to you, teeth digging into your lip so hard you could taste blood. Your body was a piano wire, pulled so tight you thought you would snap. Your legs tensed, ankles bent, fireworks exploding behind your eyes as your release burst from you, screaming Eddie's name, fingers clutching at him, grasping, nails scraping along flesh.

"Son of a bitch!" Eddie roared, head bent back, body stilling as he plunged into you once more, his own orgasm taking over. Your legs shook like jello as he trembled above you and then he fell, collapsing against you. "Jesus...shit...fuck..." he muttered, peppering your face with kisses, his forehead pressed against yours. "Your brother is going to be so pissed off when he finds out."

"I...I'm not gonna tell him..." you assured him, shaking your head, legs falling to the mattress, no strength left.

"Well, it will be kind of hard to keep from him forever," Eddie said with a smile. "I mean, how long can we keep hiding?"

"Keep hiding?" you asked, bewildered, list filled brain struggling to keep up with that he was saying. "Do you mean...you want to keep doing this?"

"Hell yeah," he laughed. "Don't you?"

"I mean...yeah...I do. But if we're just sneaking around to have sex, we can keep it a secret. You don't have to tell anyone."

"Oh sweetheart, I definitely want to keep having sex. There's so many damn things I want to do with you. But, I was thinking more than that. How would you feel about me taking you to a movie?"

"Like a date? You want to date me?"

"Yeah." He chuckled, the sound low and husky, sending shivers racing over your skin. "I mean, you said you liked me, right? I thought that meant like, you liked me, liked me."

"No, I do!" you insisted. "I just didn't think you would want..."

"Oh pretty girl, I want. I definitely want." Those lips began moving again, over your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. "You're not the only one who had a crush. I want all of you. I want everything with you."

You sighed softly as those lips began making their way south again, your body ready for him, pulsing, throbbing. Thank god you'd finally found the courage to make a move.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #tattoo artist eddie munson #smut #fluff #smut and fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #request #smut requests

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writingwithfolklore · 4 months

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How to Nail your School Essays

Not to brag, but I’m kind of a big deal when it comes to essays at my school. Since I started highschool I haven’t received a grade less than 90% on an essay—so I’m here to share my secret. This works for the classic essay, but you can also use the same advice and fit it to formal reports or other academic writing.

1. Your essay is about 2 things, demonstrated 3 or more times

This is how I’ve always thought about essays. They’re about two ideas, demonstrated as many times as you need to fill the wordcount. Shakespeare + Feminism, Media + Truth versus Misconception, etc. etc. If you’re lucky, your teacher or prof will give you one of your elements. You’ll get assignments like, “write an essay about Hamlet” or “write an essay about the American dream” lucky you, that’s your first thing—now you need to connect it with another.

This connecting idea is my favourite part because you just get to choose a concept or idea you’re interested in. Here’s a tip, if your first/given topic is something concrete, choose an abstract connecting idea. If your given topic is something abstract, choose a concrete.

So, Hamlet (concrete) could be paired with any abstract concept: Loyalty, Truth, Feminism, etc.

However, if your prof gives you something like, “truth” or “race theory”, you’ll find it much easier to connect that with a more concrete thing, like a book, movie, or other piece of media, or even a specific person.

If you are luckiest, your prof will give you both things, “write about the American Dream in The Great Gatsby” in this case, you’re onto the next stage.

2. Stick to the formula

Tried, tested, true. Nothing wrong with a formula, especially not when it gives you A+ grades. Typical essay structure is:

Intro with thesis

2. 1st Body

2a. Evidence that proves it 1

2i. Justify its relevance

2b. Evidence that proves it 2

2ii. Justify its relevance

Etc.

3. 2nd Body

3a. Evidence that proves it

3i.Justification

Etc.

4. 3rd Body

4a. Rise and repeat, you know where this is going.

5. Some may argue…

6. Conclusion

Let’s break it down.

Thesis:

Thesis completely outlines all your points, or the three+ places you’re demonstrating your connection, and why it matters.

Here is an intro + thesis I wrote a couple years ago:

“This literature review will explore the impacts influencer marketing has on the children that regularly consume social media content. Specifically, this review will focus on how influencers can impact children’s brand preferences, dietary choices, and lastly, the influx of children taking advantage of this system and becoming influencers themselves.”

“Burned discusses the human aspect of sex work and reverses reader’s expectations on sex workers, while Not in My Neighbourhood discusses prostitutes as victims of a system created against them. Both challenge readers’ perceptions of sex workers, effectively drawing attention to the ethics of displacing sex workers from their cities.”

So you have your connection (children and social media)/(Burned and Not in My Neighbourhood and sex work), and the different ways you plan on exploring or proving that idea (children’s brand preferences, dietary choices, children becoming influencers.) etc.

You may also have a more specific stance in your thesis. Such as, “In Macbeth, ambition is shown to be Macbeth’s ultimate downfall in these three ways.”

The Body Paragraphs

You start out every body paragraph with the point of the paragraph, or what it’s aiming to prove. Such as, “Influencers often include advertisements within their content, which can encourage children to feel more amiably to certain brands their favourite content creators endorse frequently more than others.”

After this claim, you spend the rest of the paragraph further proving it through examples. This will look like citing a specific source (a book, academic journal, quote, etc.) such as, “The authors claim likeable influencers can associate their likeability with the products they use, influencing children’s perception of brands, referred to as ‘meaning transfer’ (De Veirman et al. 2019)” (super important to always cite these sources!)

The last part is after each example/proof--you need to justify why this proves your point/is important. So, “This proves children are more influenced towards certain products depending on how close of a relationship they perceive to have with the influencer.”

Typically, your evidence will all lead into each other so you can transition to the next piece of proof, then the justification, rinse and repeat until you’re finished your paragraph. You can have as many pieces of evidence as you want per paragraph, and the longer your word requirement, the more you’ll want to fit into each point (or the more bodies you want to have.)

Piece of evidence + why it matters, rinse and repeat.

Some May Argue:

This is a small paragraph just before your conclusion where you anticipate an argument your readers may have, and disprove it. So, for example, you’d start with, “Some may argue that with parent supervision, the impacts of influencers on children could be lessened or moot. However…” and then explain why they’re wrong. This strengthens your argument, and proves that you’ve really thought out your stance.

Conclusion:

Lastly, you want to sum up all the conclusions you came to in a few sentences. Your last line is one of the most important (in my opinion). I call it the mic drop moment. Leaving a lasting impact on your reader can bring your essay from an A to an A+, so you really want to nail this final sentence.

My final sentence was, “Ultimately, it is hard to know in advance how technology and social media will impact the development of children who have always grown up with some form of screen, but until they grow up, parents and caregivers need to take care in the content their children consume, and their very possible exploitation online.”

This sentence is backed by the entirety of the essay that came before it, and usually leaves a little something to chew on for the readers.

Any other tips I missed?

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing community #writing inspiration #filmmaking #film #books #writing advice #how to nail your school essays #essay writing #academic writing

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arminsumi · 9 months

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what are ur thoughts on a submissive geto suguru?? 😭😭 ive been in a crave for some submissive men👹👹

I WANNA BE YOUR TOY.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑

NOTE: oh i have some sub sugu thoughts to spare!! 🤭enjoyyy

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

SUMMARY — giving your sub bf some good good head😈

WARNINGS — lowercase used, pretend u never saw errors pls, fem reader, brief ear licking/sucking, pet names for sugu (sweet boy, good boy, etc) handjob, bj (incl. swallowing, cvmming without warning), begging, sub sugu and dom reader, grinding on his lap, dirty talk (incl. teasing), mention of reader using toys and him wanting to be used like one 🥴, sugu's got some hair down there because i SAID SO!!!!! + lmk if i've missed a warning mwa

WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.2k

PLAY ME ♪ music to watch boys to

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

he so easily begs.

big hands pawing needily at your thighs, lips leaving encouraging kisses. "baby, touch me please. 'need you so bad, 'need some relief."

"oh yeah?" you smirk, "where exactly do you want me to touch?" you tease him.

his lips hover across your shoulder, pressing kisses to your skin like it was something he worshipped.

"t-touch my cock..." he muttered softly, voice barely audible.

"hmmm?" you maneuvered onto his lap, pressing your pussy right against the outline of his cock to earn a hiss from him. poor boy, he's so sensitive yet you're planning to tease him.

"could you repeat that?"

he looks up at you like he's starstruck.

"t-touch — ah — my cock." he repeats, hissing again when you start grinding into his lap. his head is fogging up with memories of all the things you two have done on this bed.

"ask nicely, sweet boy." you say, starting to pepper his face with kisses.

his heart lurches at the nickname. "please." he quickly says, "please touch me. i'll do anything for you."

"will you?"

"yes, yes i promise — hhh fuck." he whines when you suckle at his earlobe, soft tongue teasing it in a circular motion that reminds him of how you suck his cockhead before lowering your mouth down all the way.

"c-can you suck it too, please?" he asks breathlessly. "need to feel those lips around me, baby, please. please."

"only if you do what i say, m'kay?"

"ah fuck yes, of course." he replies.

you kiss him just how he likes — deeply, softly, sloppily — until his lips puff up and his cock beads with precum. he stains his sweatpants and slightly blushes when you tease him about it.

"remind me, baby, what're the rules again?" you ask him.

"good boys get rewarded." he chokes up, feeling you palm back and forth across the outline of his cock. you can feel the heat through the fabric.

"mhm, that's right. and...?"

"and bad boys don't get to c-cum." he chokes up again when you tug the hem of his pants down. cool air fanning his wettened tip, your fingers grazing over it with such light touches that it makes him buck his hips up. he's so needy that his body shows it — his cock jumps at the smallest friction you give him.

"mhm. you're not gonna be a bad boy, right?"

"no!" he gasps, feeling your finger slide over the slit of his cockhead. "no, i'm gonna be a good boy for you. i promise."

"good." you murmur. and it's that murmur of your voice that causes more precum to bead out his swollen tip. "such a messy cock, 'haven't been giving it enough attention, have you? tell me, boy. i wanna hear what you've been up to when i'm busy."

"f-fuck... n-no, i haven't — hahhh — i haven't given it e-enough attention. i j-just do it sometimes when i miss you too much, b-but i don't do more than that." he moans so softly and tilts his head back, eyes pinching shut for a moment when you start stroking in the slow, twisting motion that he loves. he taught you how to do that, he thinks proudly, he taught his baby what he likes, and she does it so good.

"in the shower... a-and after workouts."

"mhm, when you're wet? sweaty?" you tease, "bet you think of fuckin' me in the shower, yeah?"

"oh god yes i do — "

" — and when you're working out, hm? is that why you always text me at the gym? thinking hard about doing pushups on me, aren't you?"

your words are making him dizzy. he squirms his legs like crazy, toes curling in pleasure, and bucks his hips up staggeringly each time you stroke it just right.

"y-yeah, fuck i think about you whenever you're not around."

"so sweet."

"d-do you?"

"hm?" you pause to squeeze his tip in your fist, just how he likes. he nearly rolls his eyes back.

"do you think of me too, when i'm not there to touch you?" he asks, eager to hear your response.

" 'course i do. think about my pretty boy all the time. i miss this cock so bad sometimes, 'can't get off the same with any of my toys."

"fuck i wanna be your toy." he blurts out.

oh did he just say that? he really didn't mean to. you hit such a heavenly stroke that he lost all composure.

"oh do you?" you smile, stopping your movements. "do go on."

"f-fuck. no way." he chuckles embarrassedly. " 's embarrassing, forget i said 'nything."

"no, i wanna hear more. it's hot." you tell him, causing his heart to lurch. "tell me 'n i'll suck this pretty cock finally, m'kay?"

"goddd, yes fuck alright — i wanna be y-your toy. want you to use my body for your pleasure, 's for you after all. it's all for you."

"fuck, really?" now he's gotten you hot. mouth watering, eyeing out how delicious his cock looks — thinking about how you're gonna lick up all that precum and savor it.

"yeah. 'think about it a lot. want you to use me, please, just have me. i'm y — ohhh god, oh fuck me, y-yes please — fuck i'm yours!" he's dissolving now that you've lowered yourself to meet level with his cock. it throbs and jumps, looking so pretty with that curve you always feel pressing against your walls when he's balls deep inside your pussy.

now, suguru's got a little bit of hair down there. neatly trimmed. pitch-black. your eyes always skim over it when you go down on him, for some reason it's so hot.

"baby, th-that mouth's gonna kill me, i swear to god." he laughs because it feels so ridiculously good when you start licking and suckling the underside.

"quiet. toys don't talk." you tease. he groans, oh you really knew how to play into it — he was so screwed. happily so, of course. your tongue knew how to reduce his mind to mush both by swirling around his cock and uttering dirty talk onto it.

"f — fuck. 'so good..." he rolls his hips up in pleasure, back almost arching. now that's a first. usually when you give him head, he's just squirming and panting and muttering your name like crazy. but never arching his back for you.

you muffle erotic noises on his cock, knowing how those subtle vibrations of your vocals give him a rush of pleasure. lips wettened, tongue flattened up against the underside of his cock, gliding down down down until he gasps as you take it deeper than he expects. he's already melting under the influence of your butter-soft mouth, but when he feels his cockhead poke at the back of your throat?

poor boy cums without warning. a big, gooey mess spills at the back of your tongue, you swallow most of it but slide your lips right off so you can make it a messy show for him, just how he likes.

he's panting. hair strands stick to the sides of his flushed, damp cheeks. "god d-damn... s-sorry that felt too good." he groans apologetically, lips curving into a familiar suguru-style smirk.

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loganlermanstanaccount · 10 months

Text

Rigor Mortis (part 5)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 4, Part 6

summary: You deal with the aftermath of last night. Lyla has a party.

warnings: very suggestive. mentions of sex, vulgar language, etc 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: this is so so so self indulgent i cannot express it enough. probably ooc asf: you've been warned.

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 8.5k (i'm on a strict plan and had a lot to get through lmfao)

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

and they were good.

Eventually, you're bundled into your room in a fit of giggles and with shaky legs. Even in Miguel's hoodie, insisted upon by the man himself, the sheets feel a little colder after he leaves. Initially, he had collapsed on top of you; smothering you with the heat of his bare skin and the sweats that ride down his hips, dangerously low. You're pushing him off, or trying to, heavy and leaden-limbed. Whether it's the weight of that orgasm or the remnants of that blunt that turns your arms to jelly – you don't know.

Honestly, you don't think you care. He's resorted to laying his head on your chest in mock sleep – clearly still high as fuck – and stretching out on top like a housecat. He's warm on your lap; so you bring a hand to card through dark brown curls that rest on the flat of your sternum.

You'd never have known it: Miguel has a playful side, beneath all the sarcasm and red tape.

In the morning, he's gone - with only his hoodie as proof that something happened. For you, it's a hazy memory - warmth tinged in the lazy light of last night's high. It comes and goes like the tide on a quiet beach: remembering how he touched you, the feel of bare skin on bare skin, the way it burned when he kissed your shoulder….

And it's gone, again. You're left tracing the hickey at the base of your neck, and it aches . A little moment like that, fooling around like teenagers on prom night, and it shouldn't feel as intimate as it does. Groaning into your pillow, you burrow into the expanse of your roommate's hoodie. With a busy week incoming, you can't afford to be distracted – not like this.

And so, you bury the urge to knock on Miguel's door, and put your lips around the words that mean… more. You want more. It feels greedy to verbalise it, as if you've seen too much of him already. The irony; humping almost fully clothed and yet, feeling so bare. It leaves a strange taste in your mouth – blood, maybe. Maybe he's finally done it: stuck the knife between ribs to find out what colour you bleed. Miguel's a scientist after all; prone to making things go pop and snap , slicing into specimens with a steady hand.

It's too much, too close for comfort and you can't afford it: affection and intimacy in any shape or size was a fatal wound , especially after last time. Instead, you let the morning waves crash over its outline left in sand. A body – blood and gristle and guts – washed away by the tide.

You find yourself pushing down dangerous feelings. After finally getting comfortable with Miguel, all that progress seems for naught; bumbling around the apartment like a deer finding its legs. The first morning, you're spared a confrontation as he's already gone from the apartment. Earlier than usual, and you hand-wave away that little voice in your head that says: he's avoiding you .

He's not. He can't be. And you know it because he's able to look you in the eye. Briefly, but it's much longer than you can last. You have a whole conversation when he comes home and it only makes you want to rip out your eyeballs a little.

You're on the sofa, hands in your lap and antsy. There's a stupid soap on the TV, but you can barely concentrate; head too full of cotton to make sense of the screen. You're so lost in thought that when the door clicks open, you jump half a foot into the air.

"Shit." You turn, watching Miguel kick his shoes off at the door. Flashing him a nervous smile, you wave limply and turn around to cringe.

"Heeey," God. You burrow into the cushions.

"Hey." He's got a plastic bag in hand. He drops the rucksack on his back, and goes straight to the kitchen.

You call out. "Takeout's in the fridge."

He hums, and you hear clattering from the doorway. Turning, you watch; sleeves rolled up in a smart shirt. You can see the muscles in his back from here; the ripple of hard lines under cotton. Craning your head, you can't help but be curious.

"Stop sticking your nose in."

You're halfway off the couch, and stop dead in your tracks.

"M'not-"

He peeks out from the doorframe; catching you in the act.

"You're not allowed to look."

It leaves you spluttering, getting off the sofa like a spoilt child. He's telling you not to look, and like clockwork you're itching for it; padding towards the counters. Miguel must have superpowers the way he catches you, leant against the doorframe with his arms crossed across his broad chest. You're on your tiptoes and trying to get a glimpse into the kitchen. He shifts in the way, tight-lipped and shaking his head.

"Meant it. It's a surprise." You cock your head, like you can't believe what he's saying.

You step to the other side and he steps along with you, blocking your view.

"... Miguel ." You say it slowly, incredulous. You're stepping closer, ever so slightly, but he stays stony-faced and resolute.

For the first time in 24 hours, since you basically fucked him in the room next door, you're looking each other in the eye. Squinting, you hold his gaze but he barely cracks a smile.

"Sit down." He says it sternly, but his voice is soft. "Please."

With a flourish, you bring your hands up in surrender and inch back towards the couch. It's the usual chopping and thudding of cabinets being opened and closed. It takes everything not to look back, but you force yourself to concentrate on the TV.

Finally, he places a bowl in front of you before flopping to your side. He's still in his work clothes, adjusting the waistband of black slacks and popping off the buttons at the top of his shirt. You're trying not to stare, not to drool at the way he just melts ; sinking into the seats like a lolly on a hot sidewalk. When he brings his bowl closer, that's when you inspect the contents of yours.

"Is this…?" You start, and he hums; taking a healthy slurp of noodles in the process.

You shake your head to no one in particular. It's the very same instant ramen you've stopped buying, after constant complaints and lectures from the man himself. There's enough salt in here to banish a demon, he'd spit. In retaliation you'd bite back, saying, maybe you'll fuck off where you came from, and retreat to your room to eat in peace. It's your favourite flavour; perfectly salty and flavourful and definitely not good for you. In the broth, there's the milky white and yellow of an egg, with spring onions and fresh veg breaking the surface. Even before you've taken a bite, you feel that warmth at your chest, again.

He doesn't even look at you, pointing a finger at the screen instead.

"I thought Jenny was dead?"

You clear your throat of that lump, rising up like a fishing boat spit up by the waves.

"That was her twin sister, Jane."

"...I thought Jane was dead." He frowns.

"No, no, Jane faked her death in the mining accident; and ran off with all that inheritance money… were you paying attention last episode?"

"No, you watched it without me."

"Yeah, but you said you hated this show–"

" –only because it's a total rip-off of La Patrona ,"

"And yet, you're begging me not to watch without you–"

"Begging seems a little strong–"

He's kept his sharp tongue, and you're too occupied with arguing to notice the hand wrapped around the back of the sofa; how you're both inching closer until your legs come to rest on his own. You're focusing on his lips, drawn in by a pull that seems stronger than gravity.

He's saying your name, and you snap out of it. Blinking up at him, a deer in headlights, you remember yourself and look away. Tension pulls at the both of you, a string as thin as fishing wire that snaps with your realisation. You like the way he looks, flushed and flustered after a long day. You could make him feel even better, right now, if he wanted it. You'd drop to your knees and wrap a hand around his cock, pulling those beautiful sounds out of him – the very same ones you'd fucked yourself to the thought of, not so long ago.

If, being the key word. And with the way he shifts back, away from you, you're not too sure if last night was a flash in the pan or something more.

Everything about Miguel screams dangerous; flags in deep scarlet that are telling you to stay the fuck away. He doesn't commit, sleeps around; refusing to define or put a label on any significant relationship in his life. He won't even admit, say the words, that he's fucking a half-dozen girls right now; even when you've got concrete proof in the form of messy lips and banging on the walls. Okay, maybe half a dozen is a stretch; but three girls, on three separate, multiple, occasions for sure. Probably; you haven't technically seen anything but if the precision of last night was any indicator – the terrifying speed at which he made you fold like a lawn chair – he had significant experience. He was a fucking veteran; dedicated to the sport for the love of the game.

You find yourself caught in his web all the same; kicking yourself at your naivete. He's turned away now, seemingly unfazed, making little comments at the show you've got on TV. It's becoming increasingly clear where you stand: caught in a game of chicken with your roommate – a man with balls of steel, if last night was any indicator. You're ill equipped to deal with such levels of conflict avoidance, despite years of hands on experience.

The question remains, stuck in the gaps of your teeth like udon, thick and dense and chewy: how exactly does he feel about you? Where do you belong?

~~~

It's been quite the week and a half, mostly spent trying to make sense of Miguel. One minute you're at each other's throats, and the next, he's talking you through rate laws and kinetics equations. Apparently , you've got a lecturer he used to have, and he insists on sidling up to you on the dining table; prodding at your paper and liberally crossing out errors. His inconsistency has you irate ; and it means you get petty, picking fights and laying easy bait. Frustratingly enough, all it does is make that tension worse; thick and choking ; in your little apartment.

The only thing you have to look forward to is the party at Lyla's; of which you've volunteered to help set up. It means food, and drink, and a couple hours of respite, hopefully.

On the day, you get to Lyla's early. Miguel's at work, promising to be there in a couple of hours, and so you take the subway instead. Yet again, walking up to her apartment feels like another world – one of marble and faux fur and lots of animal print. When she lets you up, you're left with only your thoughts and the quiet hum of the elevator. In the mirrored wall, you take stock of your outfit: snug denim and a little shirt. Admittedly, your wardrobe felt a little lacking – jeans and a nice top being your go to. Right now, your only hope is that the dress code would be more forgiving.

The door swings open and Lyla's pushing you towards the living room, chattering away at a mile a minute. It's overwhelming as you're dragged into the light, half a dozen boxes and its miscellaneous contents strewn onto the floor.

"–and Jess has the nose of a bloodhound, so if anything seems even a little off, she'll know… "

You nod slowly as Lyla squeezes your arm with so much force, it cuts off blood supply.

"Like clockwork. We need this to run like clockwork."

Fingers numb, you watch as her features set; a wide smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes and shadow that cuts her face just so. Overcast and dramatic; simply put, it's terrifying.

There's a loud Pop! from behind, making you jump.

"... sorry !" Peter's voice rings out, and there’s a tangle of brown hair and dark eyes peeking over the kitchen island.

Walking over, you can see he's splayed out on the tiles, balloons littered all over the place. A balloon pump, long discarded, sits in its packet at barely an arm's length. More importantly, though, he's got a bundle of red hair and freckles in his arms; little May, sniffling and whining with what's left of a balloon between chubby fingers.

"Might need some help, over here…" He says it softly, rocking the little girl in his lap.

Lyla rolls up non-existent sleeves, face scrunched up in concentration. She closes her eyes ; fingers dancing as if typing on non-existent keys.

"...okay, okay, change of plans." She turns to you, eyes wrenched open and hands clasped together – Machievellian in nature. You suppose; with the sheer extent of her party planning skills, able to pull strings this way and that; it fits. "We've got exactly 3 hours and 23 minutes before everyone else arrives, plus about 17 minutes, give or take, before Jess does."

"How do you kno-" You start, but Peter presses a finger to his lips. She's in the zone, he seems to mouth.

“I need you and Pete to get these balloons done, and then we can set up the archway. I’ll call Ben, ask him where the fuck he is, and then we’ll see if we can get some banners and streamers up…. God , and the food…. think I need to threaten someone at the catering company, give me a sec,” She stalks off, muttering something that sounds important. Pete shrugs, kicking over a box of balloons; black, white and gold, a lot fancier than you had expected. May is eased off of his lap, and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She sniffles, holding her head up bravely. It's probably the cutest thing you’ve seen all year.

“I give her 5 minutes before she realises Miguel’s going to be late.”

“...and God help us when she does.” You finish for him, settling down on the cool marble.

You make a start on the balloons, opening the untouched packets and pulling out a shiny pump.

“How long have you known each other?” You busy your hands by stretching the neck of a deceptively small balloon.

“Oh, Lyla?” He frowns. “A couple of years, maybe. We met because of Miguel – same with Jess and Ben, actually.”

It's your turn to frown. Miguel was the glue? It’s a picture that doesn’t quite match up with the meet-cute that you were painting in your head. If they met because of your roommate, it must’ve been a contentious group project, or someone rear-ended in the parking lot, that brought them together: something with a lot of shouting and arguing, you decide.

Maybe Pete sees the surprise on your face, because he adds, “I’ve known Miguel for longer, though… and he’s a lot nicer than people give him credit for.”

“...I didn’t say he wasn’t.” Nice? Not a chance.

“But you were thinking it. Promise, once you get to know him–”

He’ll give you a mind-numbing orgasm and pretend it never happened. Or something like that.

“ –he gets less confusing?” You grumble. “I’ve seen enough, I think.”

“So maybe he’s a bit of a prick. But under that cold, stony exterior; buried deep, deep, deep…”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Deep down , somewhere, he’s got a heart.”

“I just,” You pause, choosing your next words more delicately. “I didn’t expect his friends to be like you guys. Fun and–” …a little batshit, and… “ – spontaneous. He’s so stoic sometimes, it’s worrying. Like, he’ll just blank out on the couch–”

“–frowning in the corner like the wall’s pissed him off personally? Yeah, I’ve seen that one a few times.”

“He’s just so hot and cold! Sometimes we’re good and almost friendly, and then all of a sudden he’s avoiding me at all costs, holed up somewhere. A-And then he’s making me breakfast, like that blip didn’t even happen… did I do something wrong? Has he said anything to you? I-I just want him to–”

The man besides you chuckles. And then, you flash him a violent look that has him flattening his features in a hurry.

“He just… takes some time to warm up, s’all. He’s changed – changing. I mean, we went to highschool together and I didn’t even realise ‘til we met again in college.”

“You went to highschool with him?”

“Yeah, but I was like, 2 grades ahead of him. We didn’t really talk except… we were both in this robotics club afterschool.”

“Robotics? Wires, and circuit boards, and–”

“ –robots. Honest-to-God, hand-on-heart, stupid little robots. And being teenagers with way too much time on our hands, we’d build ‘em, and then make ‘em fight to the death. Miguel… he took it way more serious than everyone else there. We’d mess around with goobers and battlebots – hell, sometimes we’d skip to get food. He was.. He was always there, though, hunkered down in the corner and tinkering away at something.”

“Now, I wasn’t popular in highschool, at all – I went to Robotics Club , so I think that about sums it up – but I remember… no-one could really understand him. Top of his class, always up for awards, but people thought he was a little weird. Come rain or shine, he’d always be in that corner seat with a screwdriver basically glued to his hand. And we didn’t have a clue what he was building.”

He seems wistful, thinking back to that time.

“When I finally asked him what it was, at the end of maybe… 2 semesters,” He smiles, one that deepens his dimples and brushes the corners of his eyes. “He finally told us. It was a… a fucking arena for all the stupid stuff we built. He’d really thought it through, too: all our equipment would get jumbled up, so he made little boxes and sections to separate them in. There was an LED pad he’d programmed to keep a scoreboard. It was made out of this… self-healing vinyl so we wouldn’t need to replace it too often. He got so excited when he was explaining it all; about how it folded up so we could bring it with us when we changed classrooms, and… honestly, I think they still have it there.”

He sighs. “I think that’s all he knows how to do, y’know. That’s the language he speaks, the only one he really understands. Taking care of people, giving them what they need. You’re barely friends with Miguel, then all of a sudden he’s giving you hangover cures cooked up in his kitchen, and cussing you out in the morning, ‘cus you went a little too ham after a breakup. Or…he’s bringing pizza to your apartment at 3 in the morning, ‘cus he knew you were lying about being okay after your Uncle’s funeral.”

He’s got a faraway look in his eyes, an absentminded hand in May’s. Her stubby fingers curl around his, and then he’s back, snapped out of that distant daydream.

“Give it time. He’s been through some shit. Miguel’s got layers, like–”

“Like an onion?” You offer, weakly.

“No, no. Like one of those cheese wheel things that May likes so much. With.. with the wrapper and the waxy red stuff on the..?” He handwaves it away. “Forget it. MJ knows what they’re called.”

~~~

You put your back into helping set up. You don't quite get the theme, but Lyla explains it all whilst you hang the contents of those boxes on the wall: a maximalist, hedonistic mish-mash of food, drink and decor. She wants it to feel like if Gatsby three raves, and actually fucked that sad twink – whatever that means. The visual representation of an orgasm, but classy, she says. More, more, more; and if your back doesn't hurt by the end of it, then it's not enough.

She's got you hauling ass across her front room, draping fabric and moving furniture like it's your job. Ben arrives and between the four of you (five, if you include May clambering on decor), it's all done. You can't help but think she's done a great job: the whole room decked out to look like the cover of an expensive wedding in Vogue – excessive but in a way that's only classy when rich people hire someone else to do it. Lush fabric in lieu of streamers draped on the walls, balloons sculpted into arches and tastefully dotted around the floor. The theme is black and white, with hints of gold, and gentle strings of pearl hang from ceilings and walls. It looks good, because it has to; Lyla's made you move everything around about a million times.

Gleefully, she rubs her hands together, turning to all of you. "Food's going to be here in 10, I think. You guys get changed and I'll double check when Miguel's bringing the cake."

Peter and Ben disperse into various rooms – with Peter noticeably rubbing his back, May on his arm. You're left with Lyla, awkwardly looking towards her for guidance.

"...get changed?" You look down at your woefully casual outfit. It seems you've come completely unprepared.

"Yep. Miggy didn't tell you about the dress code?"

…it's becoming increasingly difficult to cut your roommate some slack. With everything that's happened, rather conveniently, he's neglected to make any mention of a dress code.

Sheepishly, you start, "I didn't know, shit –"

Lyla cuts you off and brings a hand up to silence you. Bouncing on her toes, she's almost giddy with excitement.

"I know exactly what you can wear!"

She leads you upstairs to her room. You perch on her bed; and whilst you grapple with the fact that she even has an upstairs, you lose her in the deep depths of a walk-in. Lyla rummages through almost cartoonishly; wading through fur and leather and giant coats like an explorer hacking through dense forest. Eventually, she resurfaces, waving a bundle of white fabric. She hands it to you with a grin.

She gives you some room, pushing you through the double doors of her closet to get changed. The dress feels amazing on: well-made, thick fabric and endlessly snug in all the right places. In the mirror, you marvel at how such a simple garment transforms you: a silky slip that stops about mid thigh, draped beautifully on your shoulders, and hugging your hips like a glove. There's a little slit at the side that stops just a bit higher than you'd usually be comfortable with, but… it works. Incidentally, your makeup and hair compliments the look; soft and pretty and–

You hear a small gasp from behind the door. Lyla's got her head peeking out into the room, and then she's at your side with a gentle hand on your arm. She spins you around in front of the mirror.

"You look…" Her eyes light up, marvelling at you. " Gorgeous. You have to keep it."

"No, I can't… I won't . I was already underdressed, and this must have been expensive. I can't."

"No shit, of course it was expensive. But that's not a good enough reason… I barely wear it, and I've got more than enough clothes. Keep it ." She's smiling, head just over your shoulder in the mirror.

"It's not too much…?"

"Honestly, babe, it's not enough." She giggles. "D'you like it?"

It feels weird to look at yourself like this, dolled up and pretty – contrasting how you've felt in the past few months. It feels like you've been in survival mode; exhausted and perpetually tired. On, all the time, and sick with worry about one thing or the other. You've forgotten to take care of yourself, and as a result, this feels different.

Lyla notices: the way you stand up a little straighter and adjust your hair; the way you try your hardest to clamp down a smile. Do you like it? Slowly but surely, you nod.

"You're allowed to like it, y'know," She says, softly. "You look happy. You look good. "

You believe it, when she says it. You let that feeling carry you down the stairs; one hand on the railing and Lyla babbling away with an arm looped around yours.

~~~

Miguel is late – really late .

He was meant to be at Lyla'a about an hour and a half ago, which means he's rushing to get the cake. For once, at least that goes smoothly; and he picks up a little red velvet affair, piped to perfection and with " Happy 27th, Jess!" written on its face. It keeps him company on the way to the party, sitting snug on the passenger's seat as he drives more carefully than before. He figures it's better to be safe than sorry; already this late, there's no need to add cake smasher to the list.

The day's been draining, and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed with his favourite podcast. He knows his friends like the back of his hand, and knows that when Lyla says a small celebration for Jess, just a house party ; what she means is going the whole 9 yards, an excess of food and drink and disgustingly expensive decor, all for the sake of a birthday. He's had a glimpse of the guest list, and recognises about half of the people there – Lyla's too friendly for her own good, he thinks. He'd tried to talk her out of it, knowing Jess would be more than up for a smaller dinner, but she had her mind set. And it's impressive, what she's no doubt managed to achieve in the past few weeks of meticulous planning.

Nevertheless, it's not something he has the energy for, right now. Work had been a slog; and he'd had a couple hours of lectures before a meeting with his thesis supervisor – where she had ripped his outline to shreds, frankly. He's still sore from that verbal lashing, but fears the one he'll get from Lyla more, if he doesn't come.

And… and there's you, headstrong and stubborn and insisting on attending; even though he had made it abundantly clear you were under no obligation to do so. It must be out of spite, he thinks. But with the dress code, he can't help but daydream as to what you'd look like; maybe, a pretty little dress on, hair done a bit different, and… ohhh fuck. He didn't tell you about the dress code.

He's gripping the steering wheel, annoyed at himself for such a little slip up. And it's not just the fact that he's forgotten; but he knows, considering the past few days, you might take it the wrong way. He's not stupid ; he knows he's been wishy-washy, all because it's hard to decide how he wants you or if he should. More than anything, he feels guilt; getting you high and oh-so close to fucking you, just the way you deserve, and then… he can't. It's hard to explain, and even harder for him to wrap his head around. That logical part of him screaming: you can't fuck your roommate without consequences. But he's already had a glance into Pandora's box, a taste of that sweet fruit – of temptation , strong and heady.

It's that taste left in his mouth, of something sweet, that lingers when he walks into the party. The door's open, but even from down the hallway he can feel it: the rattle and shake of pumping music. He squeezes himself in, dodging the mass of bodies packed into the main room. The lights are low, music loud and the celebration well underway. More than anything, he's hoping it's so busy he can just show his face for a bit, and then slip out.

He towers over other people, shuffling past, giving a nod or hello to all the people that slap his back and greet him. A scattered chorus of 'Hi' s and 'S'up, Miguel's, and then he's placing the cake on the counter, pushing past half-empty drinks and beer bottles. He snatches one up, looking around. He's watching for the furred collar that Lyla's no doubt wearing, or mousy brown in the neon lights; but with the pumping mass of bodies, he can't see much.

He's ready to check upstairs when the crowd parts, and he sees you ; swirling in the mass. It makes his chest bloom with heat; you're gorgeous, dressed in white like an angel and smiling in a way he's never seen before. And then, his heart stops as someone else comes into view: another man, somewhat taller than you. There's an arm wrapped around your waist, and the man dances up against you in a way that makes something cold and bitter flare up within him. Miguel stays glued to the spot, for some reason, unable to take his eyes off of you: illuminated in the light, beautiful and flowing like a spectre. And like nails on a chalkboard, all he can do is watch as you dance up against someone else.

His mouth goes dry, and then he's making a beeline for the double doors at the back; a glassy entrance to a balcony tucked away. The air is stifling in there, but when he's on the balcony, finally, he's able to breathe.

There's someone nursing a brightly coloured drink, in its corner. Jess, big hair braided back and a velvety red jumpsuit on. She turns at the clatter of the door opening, before bursting into a wide smile.

" Miguel!" She cheers, enveloping him in a hug.

"Hey," He smiles warmly, sinking into her arms. "Happy birthday, Jess."

"Thank you, kindly." She curtsies, producing a faux southern twang and laughing all the same. Then, she wags a finger at the man in front of her. "You're late . "

He rubs his temples. "I.. I know."

"Lyla's gonna fucking kill you. "

"I know."

She gives him a playful punch. "You okay, over there?"

He gives her a rueful smile. "Yeah, Jess. Of course. When am I ever not okay?"

"I've got a list, big guy, but we'll be here all day."

She laughs and Miguel glances over through the glass; drawn to you even now. The song's changed, a bass line that rattles the panes, and you're still glued to that guy . Just as quickly, he looks away.

With a front row view to that display, Jess raises an eyebrow. She follows his gaze, connecting the dots.

" Oh. " Her voice is gentle. "S'that her?"

" Her?" Miguel echoes.

" Her . Your roommate. The one Lyla says you're fucking."

"You and I both know– "

"Okay, okay, maybe she didn't say those exact words…. but there's something there, for sure."

"Not possible . " He says it plainly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She leans against the railing, taking a careful sip of her drink.

"Xina says you're doing stupid shit to impress her. Peter says you're making heart eyes whenever she's in the room. Ben says– "

"Xina? What's she got to do with anything?" He's deflecting, Jess notes. Miguel, usually so quick with the sarcasm, and he's refusing to touch the other half of what she said.

"...you're tutoring half of her classmates."

He purses his lips. "Yeah, but I didn't think –"

"...you didn't think girls would talk?" She splutters. Of course it sounds stupid, when she puts it like that.

"Yeah, well, Xina's still not talking to me , so…" He trails off, shaking his head.

"It's almost as if you broke her heart into a million tiny pieces, Mig." She rolls her eyes. "Get your head out of your ass, man."

She turns to face the city and Miguel does the same, with a heavy sigh. It's quiet for a moment, with only the sound of cars below and dull thrum of speakers behind to keep them company. He's always liked this, he thinks. A moment of calm with Jess, the only sane person for miles around. They're able to sit in comfortable silence, in a half-minute that transcends words.

He reaches into his front pocket, pulling out a little parcel that's wrapped up in red paper. He nudges Jess, handing the present over.

"Happy birthday."

She smiles, tearing into the little package. Then she stops halfway, heart melting at what peeks through.

" Miguel… " She coos, a hand on his arm to steady herself. Out of the packing paper, she produces two little boots; red and blue and made of soft wool. "How did you…?"

"It wasn't obvious, but… sick in the mornings, switching to soda when we go out to a bar…" He allows himself a smile. "And I asked what's-his-face, just to be sure."

"See, I can't tell if you actually don't know my husband's name or–" She cuts herself off with watery laughter. "F-Forget it. Fuck, I'm gonna cry all this makeup off,"

He takes a sharp intake of air. "They were… mamá made them."

"Thank you, oh God . I know how much this–"

He cuts her off with a hand wave, as if to say; don't worry about it. "Sorry I couldn't come to the wedding. Your husband seems nice, and he treats you well. Although , he's kind of–"

" Corny . Yeah, we get that a lot." She's half laughing, half crying, fanning her face to stop her mascara from running.

He wraps a big arm around her, pulling Jess into his side. Happy tears, he hopes as she blubbers.

"I think m'getting too old for this… we don't see each other enough, lately… a-and I would've been happy with the dinner, then Lyla told me there was an emergency over here–"

"She did good. Really good. Don't tell her I said that, though."

She nods, bringing a finger to her lips with a smile. "And you don't tell the other's about…"

"Of course not. When you're ready, Jess."

"I love you, man." She grins wide, and Miguel returns it with one of his own; an increasingly rare megawatt smile. It quickly falls with her next words.

"If you ever tell anyone I said that, I'll break your kneecaps and blame it on the hormones."

She grabs his beer, opening it with her teeth, and hands it back to him. A little scared, Miguel takes a healthy swig.

"Oh, shit. " Jess exclaims, batting his arm. "I completely forgot. Lyla's got some stupid games on, upstairs."

"Who with?"

"The usual suspects, Mig – though Peter's long gone and… I don't even know where Ben goes, actually. But you can bring your girlfriend up, if you promise not to eyefuck her across the room."

" Gross , Jess."

She raises a hand up in surrender, leading the way back inside.

~~~

Miguel's here all of a sudden, and in a moment you thought would be more of a bang ; you lock eyes with him as Jess herds you upstairs. It's less of a sharp pain at the ribs and more of a crescendo; pooling warmth spreading to fingers and toes. He's still in his work clothes: crisp white shirt with a couple buttons undone, and black trousers. A little formal, and yet, he doesn't feel out of place; wearing the monochrome of the dress code, and looking twice as good as any man in the room. Somehow, you've forgotten how tall he is; lumbering over everyone else as he cuts between the crowd. He snakes behind you, giving you a strange look as you walk up the stairs. All of a sudden, you're weary of your dress, tugging down its hem as best you can. Miguel stays behind you, a gentle hand at the small of your back.

"You're okay," He whispers, sending shivers down your spine. " I've got you ."

He doesn't mean it like that , but it's too easy for you to close your eyes and imagine what it could be; words he kissed into skin when you're on top, struggling to take his length.

You ignore that coil tightening at the pit of your stomach, choosing instead to focus on Lyla stumbling through the door, trademark pink shades slipping down her nose. Behind her, there's a little sitting room; plush furniture and a massive tv – with quite a few consoles in the corner, you note. She shouts your name, barely audible over the music.

" – oh, and hi, Miguel!" She's too drunk to be mad, and you don't notice Miguel visibly relaxing. She takes your hand, calling over to Jess just behind you. "We saved you a mocktail, J."

Taking your seat, you settle down next to Lyla; perching with your legs crossed on the seat. Miguel sits some way away, on the opposite side of your makeshift circle, clearly trying not to make eye contact. Jess elbows him, and he turns to her, before having a heated argument; all hushed whispers and hand gestures. It's the most animated he's been in the past week, for sure…

"We're playing Never Have I Ever, Jess! Like back in college."

The woman in question rolls her eyes, giving a flash of pretty dimple. Back in college, Lyla says, when they'd drink cheap beer and spill their guts in dive bars – a tradition Jess wasn't too upset to see go. She didn't have the stomach for it then, and she doesn't now; but it probably wouldn't hurt to relive some of that fun.

It's a warmup round, so to speak; a strong drink thrust into your hands. You take turns going around the circle, starting off relatively tame. First, it's Never have I ever skipped a class. Everyone, all college aged or older, drinks to that one. It's practically a given. And then someone chips in with Never have I ever broken a bone . Again, most people drink – taking advantage of the freebies to get a little tipsy.

It's Lyla that throws out the juicy ones, after a couple of duds.

" Never have I ever faked an orgasm." She says it from behind her glass, giggling.

Less people drink, this time. Sheepishly, you raise your glass, taking a healthy gulp. Lyla takes the opportunity to gasp, clutching at her chest and fanning her forehead dramatically.

You're whispering back, half laughing and half telling her off, "That's not that weird, Ly. Hasn't everyone…?"

"Not me. How's your partner meant to know it's shit if you fake it?"

It's her sincerity that makes you laugh; wide-eyed and completely incredulous. You're clamping down the giggles when you look around, immediately locking eyes with Miguel. He gives you an odd look, as if amused.

You're up next, and roll up metaphorical sleeves. "Never have I ever had a threesome. "

There's murmuring around the room, and a couple of people take a drink. Lyla does, with glee, and someone else you don't quite know the name of. What surprises you, however, is when Miguel takes a swig; eyes locked onto yours.

You feel heat rising, blinking away as best you can. You still feel his gaze, of course. That game of chicken, the one you've so desperately been trying to avoid, rears its ugly head. You think Miguel is winning.

The questions get more and more provocative. Never have I ever been pegged… or pegged someone else. Lyla drinks, Jess takes a gulp of her fruity mocktail…. and so does Miguel. Never have I ever been cheated on. Most people drink to this one, including yourself. A shitty teen relationship barely counts, you suppose; but you're taking every opportunity for a drink right now.

Never have I ever cheated on someone. One or two people drink, and at least they have the decency to be ashamed. When Miguel drinks, however, you shift in your seat. Something settles within you, discontent. Yet again, your image of the man in front of you changes. For someone who sleeps around, maybe it's not too much of a stretch for him to cheat ; but the word feels so final, too cruel. It doesn't match up, for some reason, with your Miguel, who brings you piping hot noodles and hot water bottles on a bad day.

This time, he doesn't meet your eye.

Lyla decides she's bored, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"New game – truth or dare!" There's faux groans from around the room. Lyla sticks a tongue out, ignoring them, and continues. "Jess, as the birthday girl… you get first pick."

Jess lights up, gorgeous , with the hoops at her ears swinging to and fro when she looks around. You haven't spoken much to her, but she seems like good fun; making a whole song and dance of picking the first victim.

It's obvious, in hindsight, who she'd pick. There's only one person in the room visibly squirming, almost sweating , at the idea of something so out of his control.

" Miguel," She says, turning to the man sinking into cushions. "Truth or dare?"

He gives her a look, and she combats it with one of her own; the kind that could melt steel beams, and says It's my birthday, don't be a dick.

" Dare ." He grits his teeth.

"I dare you," She pauses for dramatic effect. "...to show us your porn watch history."

Imperceptible, his eyes flash towards you. You notice , mouth dry. He groans. "We're not 19 anymore, Jess. It's childish. I'm a grown ass man–"

" Truth or Dare , Mig."

"Truth." It's quick – which is very reasonable, considering her tone.

"When was the last time you fucked someone?"

Everyone turns to Miguel. He's looking at you, of course, wincing at the words he's about to say.

"I don't…" He's swirling the beer bottle in his hand, and then he shrugs noncommittally. "I don't know. A… month, maybe."

" Bullshit!" Someone whisper-shouts, and then there's some laughter.

Jess' eyebrows jump up, and Miguel bats her concerns away, whispering something under his breath. You can't quite catch it but his body language is clear: don't ask. He downs the rest of his drink, lips around the bottle, as some liquid trails down the side of his jaw. You're watching, unrepentantly obvious, and he catches your gaze. Without breaking eye contact, he swipes a finger to the liquid and licks it up.

Heart racing, you force yourself to look away and try to concentrate on the next few dares. The circle seems to have moved on, more interested in whatever juicy shit they can drag up in the next poor victim.

You've all but zoned out when it's the turn of Jun, egged on by a couple of friends. You frown. He's that guy you were dancing with earlier, caught up in heady music and swirling lights. Jun is handsome, in that famous starlet kind of way; square-jawed, pretty eyes, and dark, cropped hair. Boy wonder is lean-lined with a nice smile; the very same that had reeled you in on the dancefloor. Maybe it's the liquor, but you think he's looking at you now; raking sharp eyes over your figure.

"How do you know him?" You whisper to Lyla.

She cups a hand to your ear, more than halfway to being absolutely wasted.

"Used t-to work with him. He's nice enough, I think…? There was a rumour around the office; and apparently, he's got a massive di-"

"Truth or dare?" Someone says.

"Dare. Obviously." He flashes a smile in your direction.

You squirm, and Lyla shines with realisation.

"Oh my God." She whispers, and then she's interrupting before you can stop her. "Makeout with the hottest girl in the room. A proper one, tongue and teeth and–"

You elbow her, square in the ribs. Thankfully, she takes the hint. Jun cocks his head, as if mulling it over. He gets up.

Your head spins with the drink, and you're concentrating on keeping your sneakers flat on the ground. Head down, you don't notice the man walking over. He crouches, tapping your knee.

"Oh." You say, blinking up at him. "Hi, again."

"Hi, again." He smiles. It's like you're the only two in the room, and with the way he looks at you, eyes darting to your lips… "Can I kiss you?"

The words get caught in your throat, so you nod, fumbling.

He places a hand to your chin, gently pushing you closer and then you're kissing; sweet and gentle. You separate, and you open your eyes to find his blown . You've got tunnel vision: his lips are pretty and wonderfully swollen – you just can't help it.

You go back in again, parting your lips to let him in. He's cradling your jaw, tracing a hand up your thigh and it feels good. Closing your eyes, you sink into the heady haze of booze, grabbing at his shoulders. They're not as broad as Miguel's, and Jun isn't as clean shaven. When you snake a hand to the nape of his neck; it's rougher than your roommate's hair, cropped into a boyish cut instead of Miguel's gentle curl. Sighing, you both come up for air, and you're almost disappointed at the distinct lack of red-brown blinking back at you.

Nails on a chalkboard, and you're back in the room. You look around to amused faces, catching Lyla wide-eyed besides you. Jun's cheeky, placing a quick peck to the side of your mouth before sitting down. From your vantage point, you're scared to look, to really look , in fear of what you'll see.

Miguel, in the corner, with a white hot grip on his beer bottle. Catching that stormy gaze, something just clicks. Something resembling power, absolutely intoxicating, that heady rush you got from kissing someone else. Or, more accurately, getting a reaction from your roommate. Notoriously unwavering, and yet … he reveals a gap in his armour. A silent swipe to the ribs that doesn't kill, but draws blood.

People are dispersing now, growing tired of the games. Lyla darts off; with the attention span of an excited pomeranian, and the excessive alcohol, she's already lost interest. You take a breather, sinking into plush cushions and catch Miguel's eye. In the commotion, he's tossing his beer and walking up to you, as if gearing up to say something.

Someone sits into the seat besides you: tall and handsome, but definitely not Miguel. It's Jun, who smells like fresh flowers and cut grass, nudging your side.

"You're good at that," He says, with a little smile.

"Good at what?" You say, confused.

"That kiss." He seems a little bashful, probably sobering up. "It was… good. "

"Not…" You're distracted, eyes flicking over to find Miguel. He's gone. "Not my best work, I think."

He stretches an arm around the back of the sofa, caging you in a little closer, and all you can do is blink up at him.

"....you want to try again?"

He's handsome. He's flirting . And he's present; able to give you clear signs that he wants you. It's more than a certain someone can provide, and you're left with a deep-seated need that no-one else seems to be able to fulfill. Four words ring out in your head, clanging around like pinball. You. Might. Get. Laid.

It's enough to have you leaning up against Jun, a hand tracing circles in his thigh and fluttering your lashes as best you can. Hopefully it's a look that's says seductive, and not pink-eye. This far into the night, you don't quite have the energy to care.

Heavy petting and drunk giggling; you spend God knows how long in that little room, whispering stupid shit to each other. You introduce yourself, and so does he. A brief overview of your life; and you find yourself desperately trying to skip the small talk. Jun works with computers. You're a student. Jun is very good with his hands. You're a visual learner. Everything seems to fall into place.

Soon enough, you're swapping numbers and leading him out the door to somewhere more private . His apartment ; you find yourself hoping, as you make your way downstairs.

He's draping a jacket on your shoulders, and you wade through the crowd. The lights are spinning a little less, you find, holding onto Jun's palm. In that great big room; people packed in like black and white sardines; all you're looking for is something to tether yourself to – or someone. Relationships, you've learnt, were overrated. You're young, and single, and gorgeous ; able to bag whoever you want. And what do you want? A hookup, clearly; something simple and uncomplicated, without the mess of feelings to untangle yourself from in the morning.

There's a commotion from a corner of the room, and Jun pulls you back; craning his head to see. A jumble of people, crowded around the epicentre. He nods towards the bustle.

"Isn't that Miguel?" He shouts over the bass, and your eyes widen.

You push past, trying to get a better look. Flashing lights, pumping music. In the red and blue and black, he's there ; hand wiping a bloodied nose. He's saying something; and a couple of guys surround Miguel, giving rough shoves and shouting something you can't hear. Someone throws a punch and he takes it, barely shifting at the continuous blows.

It's a sobering sight, and you're worried; looking left and right at the onslaught of bystanders.

"Why isn't he fighting back ?" You say, barely audible. No-one's doing anything but watching; one or two even pulling their phones out to record. The sight makes you sick, and you're shouting his name, trying to get closer. Like a gunshot, sudden and sharp and cutting through the noise, he locks eyes with you. His eyes dark, with that same look he gave you not too long ago.

Another cruel kick, and he's down on one knee, clutching at his stomach. You notice the broken glass, the blood in his shirt. He's goading them, and still , he refuses to fight back. 250 pounds soaking wet and at least 6"5; he's a fucking killer – and everyone knows it. Why won't he fight back?

There's a pounding at your skull, and something deep and dark and complicated that twists around your insides, threatening to rise up – and then.. and then…

The lights are turned on, and the music stops. Lyla's at the stairs shouting obscenities; telling everyone to get the fuck out, or I'm calling the cops.

People disperse out the doors, but only a few rush towards Miguel. You do, of course, and then Jess is by his side to help him up. He must look worse than he feels because despite the bruising and pouring blood; he pinches the bridge of his nose like he always does, as if it's just a headache. He's laughing ; the smug bastard; incisors sharp and dangerous and flashing pearly white. Your heart's still racing; betraying complicated feelings. As the last dregs drip out of Lyla's apartment, you're all left to deal with the aftermath.

Jess looks shaken, Lyla's sobering up; and you're holding Miguel's hand, elbow deep in the oil spill.

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

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#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #rigor mortis 😼#kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel x reader

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sepublic · 1 year

Text

Post-Hoot with Dana Terrace!

Dana’s put over 200 hours into games she’s missed since the finale; Octopath Traveler, Little Nightmares, etc. Sarah Nicole-Robles cried harder than she ever did when she said I learned a language I’ll never forget, a whole chapter of my life is over, during the King-ceanera. She said the line once and was suddenly sobbing because of how meta it was.

Rebecca has a ‘sona during the bit with Barcus in the epilogue sequence. Cissy also cried when watching with her family, her kids asked her about it; Sarah was really excited as she watched the finale.

No sequel happening, but we can always hope; Dana would like to do more, but Disney owns the IP and needs to give them permission. Dana knew the prequel line in the finale was ham-fisted as hell but still went with it because she was pissed (she said Fuck to express her rage). Rebecca went back to the Anger phase of grief after watching the finale after realizing what they missed, but Sarah was also in Acceptance because it was hard to regret something that ended so well.

Dana doesn’t cry that much, but TJ’s remix in the soundtrack made her cry. Dana brought back everyone for BBBYYYEEEEEEE, noting this was every character’s last line, and wished Hooty had more lines. Alex improvised a cut line after the Bye with Hooty expressing appreciation for the finale and readiness for his spin-off.

Dana won’t say much in hopes she’ll get to do more for TOH in the future; A Youtube reviewer (shoutout to all, Zachary Ax, Man of a Thousand Thoughts, Rebecca herself), the Third Bill got it right on Hooty, and Dana won’t be more specific about that.

They found out about the shortening during S2; They had an ending in mind that Dana had in mind since development, but it needed too much setup and so they couldn’t pull it off. All of Season 2A was written before knowing the cancellation; Follies at the Coven Day Parade was the first episode fully written knowing the show was shortened, hence the tonal change. The Galdorstones was an arc Dana planned more on, as well as the Coven Heads; Bat Queen; It was a hard situation choosing what to leave out.

There weren’t whole episodes written that had to be trashed; Just one-sentence ideas on a whiteboard never fully outlined or scripted. But Dana is still happy with what came out, because it was pretty damn cool.

Rebecca Rose once saw someone with a King sweatshirt like hers at Disneyland and said hi, but they just side-eyed her and didn’t respond; Despite this, Rebecca hopes they had a happy day and believes they were just having a bad time. Sarah joked about not being so forgiving.

String Bean’s inspiration: Owlbert is in the title of the show, String Bean indeed was there the whole time! The S wasn’t completely intentional at first, but Dana flipped the logo around and figured it out. When making the first episode, the logo wasn’t finalized. They always liked the idea of Luz being connected to snakes, it’s what she brought to school and they liked her reclaiming something she terrorized her classmates with. The Snake-Shifter idea specifically; Zach Marcus just said “Snake-Shifter” as they brainstormed ideas and Dana, being a sucker for lame puns, was sold.

That was indeed Dana being represented as a student in the epilogue! She was Beastkeeping and Oracle; Dana can see the future of the show, and really likes animals. Raine’s palisman was indeed hidden within the violin’s design; Hunter and Dell worked to fix the palismen after Raine broke it trying to stop Belos. The violin is more akin to the staff, anyhow. Dana considered responding to a question about general Caleb, Evelyn, and Flapjack lore, but Sarah insisted she stay silent in case they get to answer it as an actual story later.

Dana liked to think while writing Thanks to Them; No, Evelyn’s spirit isn’t in Flapjack. But to Philip, he saw Flapjack as the culmination of the corruption in his brother Caleb; He saw Flapjack, if it weren’t for YOU. You can see a hint of it in Masha’s story, Evelyn entices Caleb with Flapjack, who was Caleb’s introduction to magic. Evelyn was probably disguised as a human, and trusted Caleb for seeming reasonable and less violent. Perhaps like Dog owners passing each other by and suddenly becoming friends over this.

Evelyn and Caleb’s relationship was sweet, from platonic curiosity to romantic. Eda doesn’t know she’s descended from them, nor does Hunter; And Dana has more to say, but will keep it hidden. Luz will stay the majority of her stay in the isles as she goes to college. Camila bought the shack leading to the human world, which allowed Luz to visit during holidays, weekends, etc.

They never got to explore it, but it could’ve originally been the home of Philip and Caleb, long abandoned; Eda emerges after discovering the portal. In the next thirty years, she fixes up the shack as she builds the Owl House. Dana also advised fans to google Death of the Author, since she’s technically no longer working on the show, and thus gives permission for fans to write their own answers.

Eda became the Owl Lady before Owlbert, due to the curse; They planned to do an episode where Eda learned palismen carving with Dell, and how Eda reclaimed the Owl identity to carve Owlbert. Dana stills has the outline of that episode in her head…

According to Rebecca, Caleb and Philip’s graves were in the basement of the shack, based on this church in New Haven Dana passed by every day on her way to school (Gravesfield is based on some places in Connecticut). However, Dana realized the graves didn’t fit into the story. They also had an ‘original’ Belos design for him taking over animals. Marina Gardner did some amazing Belos designs, and Thanks to Them alluded to it.

The Portal’s eye comes from the Titan’s missing eye!!! Hunter is bisexual, Willow is pansexual, this is how Dana always wrote and imagined them in her mind, but it’s not explicitly stated so technically it’s more headcanon. Dana noted how some people just picked it up. Dana likes to think Amity and Lilith rekindled their student-mentor relationship. Having worked in the library, Amity was interested in Lilith’s knowledge of history. Dana suggested to Zarya(?) from the design team to add notes to Lilith’s museum blueprints. A helicopter passed over and they joked it was Disney trying to stop spoilers.

Cissy only got her lines and didn’t know any other details about the finale, to Dana’s surprise; Dana explained that people not getting a full script is due to the pandemic. Before quarantine, actors would get the full script. They have to rely on Eden Riegel and Dana for context a lot. Bosook Coburn spoiled Luz’s death to Rebecca Rose during the celebration party. They came up with a lot of designs for dying Luz, trying to figure out how they can hollow out her head how much. Dana mentions it’s up to the showrunner to show how much they want to the actors.

Thanks to Sarah, they kept in Luz saying her own SFX during her fight with Eda in O Titan, Where Art Thou; She heard someone do it as part of the mock script and wanted it. When Dana voiced Eda and Luz at the end, Dana was crying. There’s a recording of Season 2B and Season 3 of Dana doing a voice-over of the script to get approved by executives.

Dana clarified everyone would’ve had more of a chance to talk with each other, such as Hunter and Amity; Hunter would’ve talked to Vee, as well as more human realm kids, literally everyone would’ve had a little more time with each other. Dana loves Luz and Hunter’s sibling dynamic. Dana was sorry they couldn’t have Luz and Raine hang out, but they had the Hexsquad storyline. Luz finished high school in the human world, with the renewed motivation that she’ll go back to the isles. Knowing she has a safe space outside of high school made it more bearable, as was the case for Dana growing up.

Cissy brought up Gus’ hair in the epilogue, which she loved; Emmy Cicierga did the design for Gus and Raine. Harpy Lilith was by Emmy; Dana did Emira, Eberwolf, and Skara’s timeskip designs. The name of the Titan is unpronounceable for humans.

Dana can’t say much about the Archivists; The Collector never had a flash-forward design, as they age much more slowly than everyone else. Maybe the Collector got just a tiny bit taller. The idea of the Collector came from creepy dolls, as well as a nightmare; John Bailey Owen had a google folder filled with cool references of creepy dolls with a starry aesthetic, liminal minimalist nightmare-scape. They knew who the Collector was gonna be, what role they’d play, but the vibe still needed to be decided.

Dana confirmed the Collector was always a part of the show before the shortening, and they solidified their placement after the announcement. The Collector has indeed stayed connected with the others, visits occasionally. Dana has seen fan comics on this and teared up.

Hooty doesn’t have to be vacated from the Owl House if he doesn’t want to; When the door isn’t active, Hooty could be present. The new portal can probably fold up, and Hooty is busy as a curator for Hooty’s new museum.

Dana said Raine and Eda’s business is their business; Not all love stories end in marriage. It’s their thing and it doesn’t diminish any love, but they do live in the Owl House together (Raine moved in).

Mattholomule getting a palisman is something Zach Marcus can answer, since he made the character and Dana respects the lore he made. It’s hard to say for Dana if Vee and Masha are dating, since Masha didn’t show up in the finale, but Vee definitely has a crush on them. Again, Dana encourages the Death of the Author approach, if the headcanon makes you happy.

Alador and Odalia got officially divorced after the finale, and the kids happily lived away from her. They might visit her if they have the energy, but also recognize she’s a toxic influence they can cut off at any point. Dana gave a shoutout to Rachel McFarlane’s voice acting, praising her performance for Odalia.

In regards to the tower King was born in, Dana has an answer; It was related to a character we all know, who now may have amnesia.

There was a plan to explore Gus and Willow’s glowing eyes, and do it for other characters; Amity wasn’t going to have that, strong emotions are indeed connected to magic. It was mostly a worldbuilding magic rule they could’ve expanded on, that Dana wishes she did early in the story.

In the boards, Dawn Han(?) did Clouds on the Horizon, and did the scene of Amity and the twins hiding in the factory as their parents talk about the Abomatons, Alador is worried since it seems like a tad much. Alador had T-rex arms in the storyboard, and it reminded Dana of Remy from Ratatouille, so when they got to the scene of them looking into Alador’s lab, Ratador was drawn in his place as a joke. Dana laughed so hard she decided to keep it in, with Dana handwaving it as Alador’s palisman.

According to Dana, a show should be appreciated for as it is; But the other way to enjoy it, under the context it was made, is also important to her; Both ways are valid. It was easier for Sarah to voice depressed Luz since she was also depressed. The writers preferred to put their feelings into the show, VS a more happy-go-lucky approach as others did; It was kind of dark for a bit, especially during quarantine. Sarah felt her own experience validated with Luz’s depression, but she and Dana appreciated the balance of having a happy ending too.

What made the crew hopeful was knowing the characters would always have a happy ending; Luz could continue her studies in full-force, a new family. They KNEW it would end happy. Dana acknowledged how the fandom misinterpreted “I hate the term happy endings,” and Sarah knew about the quincenera when asked during previous Post-Hoots, but couldn’t answer.

Rebecca commissioned 3D-printed Funko Pops of S2A Lilith and S1 Luz, and gave them to the others as gifts; Rebecca didn’t know about Avi’s appearance until two days before the Post-Hoot, otherwise she would’ve had a Funko of Raine made. Dana’s stand for Luz had to be made with painter’s tape (she appreciated it) due to Rebecca running out of the other kind, and planned to place it beside her Peabody award. Elizabeth Grullon, Camila’s VA, had to call her mom in the middle of a session to translate her line about maduros into English.

Cissy clarified this wasn’t intended to be the final Post-Hoot! And the video was ended with a BBBBYYYEEEEE!!!!!

#the owl house #dana terrace #caleb wittebane #evelyn clawthorne #boiling isles titan #edalyn clawthorne #eda clawthrone #raine whispers #raeda #palismen #the owl house hunter #willow park #bisexual #pansexual #post Hoot

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writingquestionsanswered · 3 months

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Stuck in Planning Stage of Writing

Anonymous asked: Do you have any advice on how to get out of the planning stage and more into the doing stage of writing? I’m up to my ears in notes for scenes and fragments of dialogue between characters. I know where I want to go with the story, I’ve even written a handful of scenes when the ideas come to me, but now that I have this lump of thoughts I need to start organizing and placing them all in their rightful spaces. The one thing I truly know is how much I’d love to see this through. Do you have any advice for a girl who’s unwittingly made herself stuck with a puzzle?

[Ask edited for length]

Planning a novel can sometimes be like digging a really deep hole for a specific purpose, then suddenly realizing you've stranded yourself at the bottom of the hole without a ladder. You've spent so much time digging the hole, you'd like nothing more than to get out of the hole and move forward with whatever project required you to dig the hole in the first place. There's just one problem: you can't teleport yourself out of the hole. You have to climb... or, ideally, build yourself a ladder to climb out with whatever materials are available to you.

That's probably where you are right now with your story. The hole you've dug was necessary, and it's good that you dug it, but as much as you'd like to just magically leap out and write your story, you can't do that. You have to build yourself a ladder to climb out of the hole first. So...

My go-to emergency "get out of the planning hole I've dug myself into" ladders are timelines, scene lists, and outlines.

Timelines: Your story may take place over a single day or several centuries, but either way, time flows in your story. All of those notes and fragments of dialogue and partial scenes are moments or events that happen within the time frame of your story. So, plotting those moments and scenes out on a timeline--according to when they need to happen--is about the easiest way to break your story down into its existing pieces and to see what's missing/where.

There are lots of ways you can format a timeline, such as a table, a list, a horizontal timeline, calendar, or a roadmap timeline. My go-to is a basic two-column document where the left column is date/time and the right column is the moment/event. There are also apps and online tools that will help you build a timeline in various formats.

Horizontal Timeline:

Calendar Timeline:

Table Timeline:

More info: Making a Timeline for Your Story Scene Lists: Stories are made up of scenes, so a list of those scenes is another great way to organize the events of your story. You may even find that creating a scene list is easier after making a timeline, because a timeline may help you see where certain moments or events need to be their own scenes and which can be combined together into a single scene. Just like timelines, scene lists can be as simple or complex as you want to make them. Once again, my go-to is a simple two-column document with the left column for the scene number and the right column for the scene summary, preferably just a sentence or two. Ultimately, once I have my rough timeline and scene list done, I usually combine them into one multi-column document along with my story structure beats.

Table Scene List with Beats:

Complex Scene List/Timeline/Beat Sheet:

More info: Scene Lists

Outlines: Outlines can be really any format you want them to be, and some people count timelines and scene lists as their outlines. My go-to outline is just an exhaustive beginning to end summary of everything that needs to happen. Sometimes, just working through your story from beginning to end can be the best way to make sense of all those disparate pieces you've been piling up.

More info: Guide: How to Outline a Plot Story Structure: Finally, I want to talk a bit about story structure templates like Save the Cat Writes a Novel!, Larry Brooks story structure, seven point story structure, etc. Story structure templates can be a really great way to make sure you're hitting all the right story beats--almost like a road map through your story. It's just important to know you do not by any means have to stick to any particular story structure exactly. Use it as a guide, take what works, leave what doesn't, and don't panic if your beats don't fall exactly where it says they should. As long as your story is working, that's what matters. Some writers even like to frankenplan their stories using a variety of different structure templates.

More info: Creating a Detailed Story Outline (story structure)

Once you finally have a roadmap for moving forward, whether that's a timeline, scene list, outline, or all of the above, you know you're ready to start writing!

Final note: I just want to add that planning isn't for everyone. Some people are discovery writers who let their stories work themselves out as they go. The above is just meant for people who are planners, who have done a lot of planning, but need to pull that planning together into a cohesive, organized document. And... if you have all of the above and still find yourself unable to start, you might find help in the links below. Happy writing! More help:

Beginning a New Story Figuring Out Where to Start a Story Deciding How to Open Your Book How to Move a Story Forward Trouble Getting Started Have Plot, Can’t Write

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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atticrissfinch · 7 months

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Series: The Rogue Who Coaxed You | (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)

Part 2: The Business Trip

pairing: boss!joel miller x fem!secretary!reader summary: joel makes you arrange his business trip where he will be accompanied by his wife. you’re pouty about it, and joel reminds you of your place. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] mean!joel, very brief joel x ofc action, joel STILL respects you approximately 0% (maybe even less than that in this one jfc), age gap (no specifics), infidelity, hella power imbalance/dynamics, daddy!kink, also hella degradation and humiliation kink, semi-public sex, joel and reader suck at being quiet, unprotected PIV, creampie, use of slut, whore, etc extra disclaimer: we are going to be HEAVY on the infidelity in this series, folks. it’s basically its own character. it’s frequently referenced by the characters, very in-your-face, and will be used as a kink in this series. So if that bothers you, you may want to skip this one ❤️ word count: ~3K | ao3 a/n: there is humiliation kink in this one like WOAH so uhhh just be aware of that lmao joel is so fucking mean. But if you like that kind of thing……here u go lmao. Was too lazy for a moodboard on this one so maybe later lol Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

The first email in your inbox when you come in this morning is from Joel.

Subject: Business Trip

We discussed this earlier, but I’m outlining my expectations below just so we are clear on them.

First class. Not business class. Straight through flight if at all possible.

Four or five-star accommodations only. Please ensure the room has a large jacuzzi and a balcony with a nice view on a higher floor.

Book a couples massage and a couples spa treatment at the hotel for one of the evenings. Can split between evenings if absolutely necessary.

Reservations for two for dinner each night—sophisticated places, please. I do not want to be stuck at Applebee’s on a Friday night.

One of the nights should be Bertelli’s. If they give you any grief about times, drop my name. Marco has me on the VIP list.

Don’t disappoint me, please.

It is a little insulting. Because you had gone over all of this. Yesterday, in fact. Where he watched you handwrite notes about everything he said.

You shake it off and double-check your notes just to humor him. All perfect, as you’d expected. Even if your pen bled through the paper from pressing down too hard in a few particular spots.

You do your level best to not let it get to you, him deciding to bring his little wife along with him to Los Angeles. Emphasizing the “couples” amenities. The jacuzzi. The balcony on a “higher floor”, knowing exactly what he planned on doing on it. It made your skin itch.

He’d taken you with him once, right at the beginning of your affair, on a short two-day trip to Denver. He’d left you in the hotel for most of it. Made you order room service to the suite for all three meals and then fucked you before passing out for the night.

There were no couples spa treatments. No dinners at Michelin-star restaurants. Just hotel burgers, an orgasm or two, and then a scolding at the end of it for over-ordering on room service.

Joel, the very picture of extravagance, berating you for spending his “hard-earned cash” on “too much food” when you would otherwise starve. He’d fucked your throat until you cried in the back of his Escalade on the way home from the airport as punishment. He then kicked you out at the doors of the high rise where Miller Enterprises comprises two sprawling floors and told you to get an Uber home on your own dime. Said he’d spent enough money on you, and he wasn’t going to have Douglas waste more gas.

All while you knew a Tiffany’s box was shoved into his carry-on. For her.

But maybe things would be different now. Maybe you’ve earned enough of his trust, his favor, that he might treat you more luxuriously if you went away together.

Around eleven, you gather your courage and knock on his door. He invites you in, and you shut the door behind you, locking the door and shutting the blinds for good measure.

“Did something confuse you already?” His glasses are perched on his nose as he looks up at you from whatever document he’s examining.

Your eyes drift to the floor and you scratch the back of your calf with the toe of your shoe. “No…” You mutter, leaning against the wall to the right of his desk.

“Then why are you in here wasting my time?” He drawls, returning his focus to the page in front of him.

You swallow your nerves, drawing yourself taller and steeling yourself before propositioning, “Take me instead.”

That reels his attention back in. He sets the paper down on his desk and drops his glasses unceremoniously on top of it with an amused expression. “Take you instead of who, sweetheart?”

“Instead of her.”

Joel leans back in his chair and folds his hands onto his stomach. “Instead of Claire, you mean? You’re asking me to take you on this business trip instead of my wife?”

“Yes.”

Joel barks out a laugh. “You’re a secretary. And a forgettable one at that. What could you possibly do to benefit me on a business trip? I don’t recall you being particularly helpful on the last one.”

A shred of embarrassment trickles through you as you assess his expression, mocking and unapologetic. Your fingers twiddle absentmindedly as you offer, “I could be naked in bed for you all day. Wet and waiting for you after every meeting.”

Joel sighs and beckons you toward him. You rush to his side and he takes your hand in his, patting the back of it placatingly. He looks up at you with what seems like pity in his eyes. “Baby, you aren’t worth even a fraction of the thread count of the sheets in the places I stay. You’re a…” Joel thinks for a moment, then continues, “You’re a motel hooker. If you set foot in a five-star hotel, they’d have to follow you around with a fuckin’ mop to clean the marble floors from the cocktail of sperm dripping outta you everywhere you go.”

Your bottom lip quivers, while your pussy sends a gentle, rolling pulse between your legs at his callous insult.

“I mean, we didn’t even stay somewhere that nice last time and I still slipped the maids a couple hundred dollars extra just to refresh the room after we left. Who knows how many dicks you took in there while I was gone.”

You sniffle as you feel the threat of tears burning in your nose. “I didn’t…”

Joel’s brows draw together as he gives a gentle nod. “Ok, baby. I’m sure you didn’t,” He placates, clearly not convinced. “You wanna come sit on daddy’s cock? That make you stop whinin’?”

You scrunch your eyebrows and snatch your hand back from him, crossing your arms across your chest petulantly. You know you’re acting like a snot, but Joel is in rare form today, and it wouldn’t be fun if you didn’t push back. If you always immediately bit what he dangled in front of you. “No, I don’t.”

Joel just shrugs and settles back in his chair. “Okay then,” he says, raising his hands slightly and making a show of shooing you toward the door. “Get out and go do what I asked you to do.”

You stay put stubbornly, meeting his eyes with a glare. It takes approximately five seconds for you to second-guess yourself. “Ok, wait…”

Joel rolls his eyes, scooting his chair out a little further from his desk. “Make up your goddamn mind. You’re gonna go out there and do what I say regardless. So you can either do it with or without my come leaking into your panties. Take your pick. I don't got all day.”

You grumble a little, and then mumble more audibly, “You know I’m gonna say yes.”

Joel gives you a slow nod. “Yes I do. And I gotta admit, it’s a little goddamn annoyin’ when you act all Sophie’s Choice about it, when we both know there’s barely a single thought behind those eyes that doesn’t revolve around my cock at any given moment.”

You feel your pussy throb again at his words and you inch closer toward him. “What the hell is Sophie’s Choice?”

Joel smirks up at you and holds a hand out for you to take. “Case in point. Now come remind me why I keep you around.”

You whimper and take his hand, allowing him to pull you up onto his chair until you’re straddling him with your skirt rucked up your hips, thankful that you decided to forego tights today. He works his cock out of his slacks, such a familiar and welcome sight to you at this point, and both your mouth and pussy flood at the same time.

You slide your panties to the side as you hover over his cock, already hard from the way you’ve been taking the disparaging words he’s been dishing out.

Joel snaps the crotch of your panties. “Don’t know why you fuckin’ bother with these anymore. You know you’re gonna take my cock more often than not,” Joel remarks, gliding a warm hand around the back of your thigh and gripping around it, using it to position you where you already have it ingrained in your brain to go.

You smirk to yourself as you stare up at the ceiling, feeling the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. “Didn’t think you would want me soiling your precious office chairs with the evidence of you cheating on that precious wife of—” Your words are cut off with a sharp gasp as Joel slams you down onto his cock in one thrust, burying himself all the way inside you until you are seated flush to his lap with your head thrown back and your mouth agape in alarmed pleasure.

When you try to rise, his unyielding grip on your shoulder prevents your movement. Your head flops back down to meet his gaze, his lips parted slightly and his eyes looking down at you with an up-tilted head. You wiggle in his lap, but he continues to hold you steady.

“Daddy–” You protest, but he cuts you off again.

“You got a big fuckin’ mouth for a worthless cunt who can’t even suck or fuck her way to California with me.”

“Daddy, I—”

Joel’s face goes gravely serious, teetering on pissed off. He shoves two fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue to shut you up.

“Let me make somethin’ real clear to you. Cause I know you, and I know what rattles around in that goldfish fuckin’ brain ‘a yours.” Joel wets his lips and holds your jaw just this side painful, ignoring your wince as he continues, “If I find that you’ve sabotaged even a single element of this trip, I’ll have you scrubbin’ every toilet in this building and takin’ your piss breaks in the alley behind the dumpster. Understood?” He punctuates his words with a rough jolt of your head in his bruising grip, then slides his fingers from your mouth to allow you to answer.

“Yes, daddy,” You whimper.

“Good,” Joel states, dropping his hold on your face and placing both hands on your hips. “Now shut up and take this cock.”

You sigh in relief as he finally grants you the freedom to move, and you lift yourself up until the tip of his cock is stretching you open before dropping yourself down again and setting a brisk, deep pace.

The two of you have never been super great at keeping quiet. You certainly try, but noises always escape you before you can catch them. You’re reasonably sure the entire office knows about the two of you, but no one is stupid enough to say anything about the CEO fucking his secretary under his wife’s nose.

You breathe out a “Fuck daddy,” as his cock hits deep inside of you so fucking perfectly, like it always does.

Joel growls as he bucks his hips into you as you drive down onto him. “Braindead fuckin’ whore. All you know is eat, sleep, and dick, ain’t it?”

You whine as your head falls onto his shoulder, your pussy clenching around him as the degradation fuels your desire.

Joel grabs you by the hair when you don’t verbally respond. “Huh? Ain’t it?”

“Yes, daddy,” You squeak out.

He tightens his grasp on your hair as he pushes in further, fucking up into you with what almost feels like disgust. “Ain’t that all you fuckin’ know? Ain’t it all you’re good for?”

“Yes, daddy!” You sob, always mortified by how hard his mistreatment gets you off as your cunt squeezes him and you feel your orgasm spiraling inside you.

“Lucky your pussy’s so goddamn tight or you’d’ve been out on your ass a long fuckin’ time ago, huh?”

“Yes, daddy,” You moan again, your breath going shallower as the fatigue of riding him chases after you. You begin rolling your hips back and forth, using his cock to massage your g spot as he keeps rutting up into you.

“People in this office probably think you’re a gold-digging little homewrecker, don’t they? But what they don’t know is you give it up so easy, I don’t even slip a measly dollar into your little thong when I’m done. Barely have a penny to your fuckin’ name and you’re still creamin’ on this cock for free. Nothin’ to goddamn show for it. No business trip, no diamonds, no fancy house. Just wide open legs, gettin’ run through like a McDonald’s drive-thru.”

You moan into his neck as his rhythmic thrusts force your insides apart, opening around him every time without a moment’s hesitation. The humiliation has you shaking on his cock, tears slipping free down your cheeks as you bury your face in his neck.

“And you can whine and complain about bein’ the other woman all you want, but I know you like this shit. You like bein’ my little dick ornament, nothin’ more. Don’t you, baby?”

You whimper into his neck, but nod helplessly, clamping your pussy around him. Your hand finds your clit to push yourself over the edge, rocking your hips harder on his thick length as you gasp and moan into his skin.

At your increased intensity, Joel starts to groan out his own release, holding you down into his lap as he unloads inside your pussy, your walls twitching around him. “Fuck yeah, baby. Take all that come. ’S the only gift you’ll ever get from me. Better cherish it.”

Those words have heat and pleasure bursting from your core at last, spilling out through your limbs and leaving you breathless and boneless in his lap as you piece your brain back together to some semblance of cohesive thought.

Joel melts back into his cushy chair, petting down your spread thighs and squeezing them periodically as he catches his breath. You wince as you lift off of him and tug your panties back into place to prevent any of Joel’s come from dripping where you don’t want it—which is anywhere but your panties to remind you where he’s been today.

You wrangle Joel back into his pants for him and settle into his lap, sliding your hands to clasp around the back of his neck. Your thumb caresses his jawline softly as his lethargic stare studies you in his post-orgasmic haze.

You release an exaggerated sigh, attempting to garner as much sympathy as you can as you beg, “Please don’t make me do all this.”

Joel offers you a half-smile. “I’m sorry? Don’t make you do your job? I mean, we have plenty of spare banker boxes. Feel free to clean out your desk whenever.”

You run your fingers through his dampened curls. “Then who would service you at work like I do?”

A small laugh bubbles out of him, and he reaches up to cup your face. “Oh, baby. That’s so cute.” He gravitates toward you, nuzzling his nose against yours and pressing a featherlight kiss to your pout. He breathes the rest of his reply over your lips, imbuing his tone with all the affection that his actual words lack. “You are effortlessly replaceable. I have no shortage of willing participants who would get on their knees and shut the fuck up far better than you do. Please don’t kid yourself.”

He says it as if he’s doing you a favor. Like he’s giving you genuine advice. It simultaneously feels like a fist around your stomach and a warm mouth on your clit. Like punishment and reward. Your eyelashes ghost the apples of your cheeks as you nod in understanding.

“Yes, daddy. I’m sorry.”

You ignore the side-eyes from your coworkers as you mill back to your desk, smoothing your skirt as you take your seat. Wetness pools in your panties as you get comfortable, just like you’d anticipated. Ten minutes later, you get another email ping from Joel.

Subject: Re: Business Trip

Please arrange transport to and lodging in Santa Barbara on Friday evening through Sunday night, straight from Los Angeles after dinner. Somewhere luxurious. Vineyard tour, wine tasting, the works. The Mrs deserves my full attention for a little longer. I’ve been gone too much lately.

—

You text him on the Thursday night of his trip, just a simple inquiry about how things are going.

Your phone buzzes twenty minutes later with a text that just says, “Exquisite,” accompanied by a video attachment.

A bubbly jacuzzi bathtub, Claire very evidently in between Joel’s legs and up to her shoulders in suds. Joel kisses wetly down her neck, his tongue visibly working in tandem with his lips as he heatedly stares down the camera he has extended in front of them. Claire hums in contentment, biting her lip with a moan until she spies the camera on her. She bursts into giggles, bringing a foamy hand up to shield her face.

“Baby! Turn it off!”

“What?! I’m just—”

The video cuts off in the middle of Joel’s laughter-infused response.

And you know it’s fucked up. You know it’s so fucking wrong. But you bury your fingers inside yourself and hit play again. And again. And again. Until the humiliation burns its way through your abdomen and drips off your fingertips with your orgasm.

You don’t text him again.

—

When Joel walks into work the Monday after his trip, there’s a glow to his skin, to his face. He greets his staff with a broad smile and pats to shoulders and backs, looking very well-rested and energized in a way he normally wouldn’t. When he gets to you he taps twice on the side of your desk to get your attention and gestures with his head for you to follow him. You reach for your notepad, but he mutters, “Won’t need that,” with a telling look, and waltzes in the direction of his office without another word.

As you stand to scurry after him, you hear one of your coworkers quip to another under her breath, “Can’t leave daddy waiting, can she?”

Your cheeks burn at their quiet snickers. But they’re right. You don’t leave him waiting. That’s one thing you’re good for.

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torialefay · 30 days

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comments and thoughts on the channie content from today's jpn fanmeet?

He’s been so into his “cutie boy” era and I’m honestly here for it. And ofc I love his curly hair the most, but I am really liking the straightened hairstyle he’s had over the last little bit. It actually has been feeding my delusions bc remember him talking about how he’d love to wear his hair out more, but he just doesn’t know how to style it? Well I could figure out the curly routine, but his straightened style??? Easy. Like lemme do it for you baby 🥺 Plus the video of him almost kissing Binnie’s hand ughhhhh

Because imagine having a lazy morning with Channie & you end up doing his hair 🥺🫶🏼

The two of you had stayed up late playing games, drinking, telling stories, and talking into the darkest hours of the night.

When you’d woken up in the morning, the sun was peaking through the back of the blackout curtains in Chan’s bedroom. Your movements woke him up as well.

“Morning baby,” he’d whispered sweetly in his crackly morning voice before reaching his arms around you to pull you in closer to him. You’d let your head rest in his chest as he nuzzled his chin onto your forehead with a smile.

“Good morning,” you’d tried to say back, the words getting lost in the barrier of his bare skin. Your brain was still foggy, but your heart was content beating next to his.

“What do you wanna do today?” he’d mumbled, squeezing you a bit harder before resting with you in an even tighter embrace.

“This,” you smiled, planting a soft kiss to the skin in the middle of his chest.

“Mmm good,” he whispered, moving one hand to hold taut to the area between your lower back and your ass. “Back to bed, angel,” he managed to get out while grinning to himself.

A few hours later, once you’d both began to stir, Chan checked his phone, scrolling through the notifications, one after one. He’d absentmindedly opened TikTok to start watching videos with you. It’s something you’d done time and time again. Chan’s algorithm was different than yours to say the least. Random gaming videos, sports reels, music stuff, etc. The one thing you had in common on the platform was recommended STAY edits. And every time Chan skipped a sexy edit of himself, you pouted until he went back and let you watch it. Of course you had to tease him a bit afterwards, rubbing your hand up and down his torso. “Look at my fine mannn,” you’d teased, pulling back with a big smile on your face.

“Hush,” Chan rolled his eyes, lazily grinning before pulling you back to him so you couldn’t say another word.

Later, he’d received a text from Felix saying that a few of the boys wanted to check out a new gallery that had opened up about an hour away. He’d asked if you and Chan would like to go.

“I’m more than content with just laying here with you, baby,” Chan said, leaving the decision up to you.

“I am too… But it could be fun if you wanna go,” you looked at him with big eyes, excited that you’d been included in the plans.

“We’d better get ready then,” he’d said before stretching his arms out above his head. “I think they’re wanting to leave in a little over an hour.”

45 minutes later, and you were finishing your makep as you saw Chris walk out of the bathroom toward his closet, wearing only his shorts. You watched the outline of his back from your makeup mirror as he sorted through shirts before pulling one over his head and down his torso. He grabbed a beanie from the shelf and chucked it on as well. The way his muscles flexed as they were reaching up was a sight you’d never get over. After giving himself a one-over in his long mirror, he walked behind you and plopped onto the bed, waiting for you to be ready.

One final brush stroke of mascara and you were done. You turned in your chair to face your boyfriend. “Your hair is so cute baby. Why don’t you wear it out today?”

Chan blushed a bit before looking down. He always got like this when the hair conversation came up.

“You know I don’t know how to style my hair,” his voice went up as he spoke, still feeling shy. “It’s got a mind of it’s own right now… And every other day as well.”

“Well lucky for youuu-“ you dragged out as you stood and walked to stand in front of your boyfriend. “I can do it for you! Please please pleaseeee,” you plead, grabbing his hands to squeeze them.

He giggled, giving into you waving his hands up and down. “Okay, okay, you can give it a go. I trust you to do me right, yeah?” he joked.

Your whole face perked up at his agreeance, giving a couple of quick claps before running into the bathroom. You sorted through your things before returning to the bed where he was sat.

“Okay SO, there’s good news and bad news. Bad news is that I only have stuff to straighten hair. Good news is we can go buy some curly hair products once we get done with the boys!” you said excitedly, reveling in your new-found service. “We’re gonna curly girl method you! I’ve always wanted to try it!”

“You’re gonna do what to me?” Chan asked, half laughing but half squinting his eyes in confusion.

“You’ll see.” You walked to the bed to grab a pillow and set it in the floor just between the bed and your makeup table.

“Alright baby,” you said as you plugged your straightener into the outlet, “you sit on the pillow and I’ll get you all squared away.”

Chan did as he was told and shimmied down to sit cross-legged on the pillow. As you situated yourself into the bed behind him, you instructed him to lean back into you, wrapping your legs around him in the process. “Gotta hold you still for good measure,” you grinned.

After peeling Chan’s beanie off, you gave his scalp a quick rub, earning a light moan in response. You took your time combing through his hair, adding some heat protection and a silkening gloss before running the styling tool through it. You made sure you were on the lowest heat setting and were as gentle as you could be. You didn’t want to throw his natural pattern too far off.

Once you’d finished, you made sure to add some holding spray to make sure it would last him the day. “Alright, final check,” you said, swooping your feet out and turning them so you could land in front of him. You let yourself fall down to your knees so that you were straddling his lap. “Okay now look at me,” you instructed. Without really giving him time to cooperate, you placed your hands at his jaw to tilt his head up to eye level with you.

“Perfect,” you smiled, admiring how handsome he looked with his hair on display. “Now tell me-“ you strained as you reached backward to grab a mirror off of your table. “If there’s anything you want me to change,” you said, holding the mirror out to Chan.

He took it carefully before bringing it to his head. He swerved it around, making sure to check every angle. “Wow,” he smiled before lowering the mirror, “you did a good job, babe. It looks really good. Thank you,” he said sweetly before reaching out to grab your hand. He held it so softly, so tenderly before holding it up in front of his lips. He pressed a small kiss onto the back of your hand as he watched you, thanking you again silently with his eyes.

The gesture put a wide grin on your face. You squeezed onto his hand again before leaning into a hug. “You don’t need to thank me, I’d do it any day. But next time…” you said, pulling back, “we’re leaving your curls, okay?” You lightly scratched the back of his neck.

A little smile spread across him. “If you think you can manage it.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it by the time I’m done with you,” you teased.

Chan wrapped one arm around your waist, letting the other hand trail down to rest on your ass. He held tightly as he pulled you closer on his lap. “I like the sound of that.”

#bangchan fluff #bangchan imagines #bangchan scenarios #bangchan stray kids #bangchan x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz scenarios #skz soft thoughts #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan #bangchan x female reader #bangchan x you #bangchan soft thoughts

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donutz · 3 months

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Dogday x reader Valentines Day special[1♡8]

—☆You are a smiling critter in this, if u want to know which one(but don't know what animal or insect to pick) you could start out as a sheep!

What did they do in the morning on Valentines?

— He woke up pretty early to set the gifts near you, or just spending extra time on them to make sure they were perfect

— He wanted to wake you up too, but he wanted you to get your rest

— He also spent some extra time going over your favorite things just in case he forgot

What did they do for you?

— Spent a bunch of time on your gifts

— He set a secret area so he can give you your gifts

— When you were waking up, he tried to have you as awake as you can be

— He wants you to see everything!

What did they get you?

— Your favorite things!

— Your interests

— He gave you this paper heart that Bubba Bubbaphant taught him

— A card mainly colored with your favorite colors, even if your favorite color is black, plus he included some of his favorite colors

— A heart shaped box full of not just chocolates, but your favorite candies!

— He always catches you sneaking candy, so that’s how he knows

— Of course, a bouquet of flowers, ranging from red, orange, and yellow colored ones

What did you give them?

— A bone with your scent(in this your scent is sugar cookie)

— A bow that’s in a shape of a bone

— A sticker that also has your scent

— The biggest bouquet ever, it’s bigger than Dogday’s, because Bobby Bearhug thought it’d be a great idea

— Cuddles, ear scratches, hugs, and some lovely kisses <3

Did they do anything special? (Extra hugs, kisses, changing their routine etc.)

— He gave you more hugs than he regularly does

— He woke up extra early

— Planned everything out the weekend Valentine’s Day is in

— Decorated his dog house(it’s on Mob Entertainment’s Instagram if you wanna see it)

What activities did you both do?

— Did a little watching tv date

— You both taught the lesson for today, it was about Valentine's day

Did they seem brighter today?

— Yes, it's somehow possible

— His tail was wagging almost all day, and every time he saw you

Anything new about their appearance?

— He did have a little orange bow on his ear

— For the date he dressed in a suit, it was adorable, he was so happy too

How many times did they say I love you?

— Almost every time he saw you, it was because he didn't want to annoy you with those words

— Yes, you said it back every time(You better have, I'm watching you)

Did they ask to be your Valentines, or did they ask if you could be their Valentines? There’s a difference!

— He asked if you could be his Valentines

— “Or if you want me to be your Valentines— that's fine!!”

— It's your choice

What did they do the night before Valentine's Day?

— Made extra details in his gifts

— Made sure nothing would go wrong the day after(he was hoping, a lot.)

— Almost stayed up, but he knew that you'd know he did, so he went to sleep after a bit, just for your sake

Were they shy asking to be your Valentines or when they asked if you could be their Valentines?

— He wasn't shy at all!

— I wouldn't say he was confident, but he was quite bright! As the dog he is

— Biggest smile on his face, and he knew that you'd say yes(hopefully)

Did they add anything extra to their areas(their little homes)? Or their activities?

— He had a big picture of you and then made an outline of a red heart around your face

— Not in the weird creepy way he just loves you

— He spread some rose petals across his floor too

What did they do when it was time to sleep?

— Thought a little bit more about the gifts and made sure to check over them in the morning

— Was trying so hard not to worry too much, plus he was going to go over it in the morning!

— It was fine!

— It will be fine.

Question♡ Did you get anything for Valentine’s Day? If so, what was it? If not, here's your long awaited gift^_^(the fanfic u probably just read)

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #smiling critters #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #gn reader #dogday #dogday x reader #valentines day #valentines day special #dogday x reader valentines day special #dogday x gn reader

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cupcakeslushie · 4 months

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Do you have any tips on for people starting a comic and wanting to post to tumblr? Like pacing ect. Or well any experience you’ve had with your comics? Love your content as well ❤️

If it’s simply for fun, and you’re just trying to gain experience, my biggest advice would be to just START. Don’t worry about it looking perfect. Don’t worry about comparing it to other’s comics. Just try something, and if you find it’s not working, you can always change things up. I have gone through several styles and page layouts since starting. Do I wish those first pages of EW looked just like what I’m doing now? Yes, but if I’d waited around for perfection I would have never started. And I wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun creating it! If people like it, that’s great, but your art is for you. If you’re growing and learning and having fun, then you’ve accomplished something!

Now for some less preachy advice 😂…

—If your comic is gonna be hosted on Tumblr specifically, I would say, make sure you keep the 10 image limit in the back of your mind when you’re pacing things. That can definitely cause some headaches down the line. If you don’t plan ahead, and end up hitting it, you’ll have a sudden cut in your flow. This last update I knew it was gonna be long, so while I did plan, but I could’ve planned better.

—Variety is key!!!!!

Composition changes keep your viewers from getting bored. Sometimes I’ll find myself falling back into the bad habit of just doing the simple back and forth with two characters talking straight on, but changing the camera angle, making establishing shots when you change locations, and over the shoulder shots, etc etc…All these will make for a more interesting viewing. You may think a character needs to be in every single panel to make it interesting, but if you have a lot of dialogue, a simple plain shot—either in top of a solid background, or just over something boring, like a glance at the set, etc—this will let people focus on the words rather than splitting their focus.

Variety applies to shading as well—whether you’re using color or black/white. Variety in values are SO important for comics. You’re shoving a ton of information in a limited space, so try to keep your values different for items that are close together….it can make things very confusing and turn your line work into indistinguishable blobs if you shade without this in mind.

(Using this panel as an example….)

The top two panels have a variety of darker values and a halftone background—so the next two with Venus, I kept rather simple. I could’ve colored the buildings behind her, but then, she might’ve gotten lost amidst all the grey. There’s not really any trick or solid rule to this, but once you develop your creative eye, you’ll make these choices without even thinking about it.

A few links to helpful tools (they’re all procreate centered I’m afraid 😅)

Outline brush — a free tutorial for Procreate users. This brush kinda mimics the CPS feature that lets you create panels with a nice black outline. I used this brush very often, and it really gives your panels a professional look. Fair warning, it can be glitchy, but it’s free…

Manero Comic Bubbles and sfx — These brushes are not free, so I would recommend maybe getting in your groove before you try them out. They’re by no means necessary, but I’ve just started using them, and they save me so much time. There’s a HUGE selection of shapes, and they go on with a solid white background, so you don’t have to worry about coloring around your dialogue balloons.

#rottmnt #ask slushie #slushie rambles #I could probably think of more stuff but my brain is fried I’m just really putting the rambling in that slushie rambles tag

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prettieinpink · 8 months

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♡ PRETTIER HIERARCHY ♡

HAPPY 1.2k+ TO PRETTIEINPINK! Thank you guys for the support, here’s a lil gift from me to you.

If you don’t want to read all of this, I created a hierarchy of everything you need to do to glow up, right at the end!!! But I recommend reading everything first <3

I’ve been trying to ‘glow up’ like forever, but there was no actual content out there that helped me glow up. Most people sugarcoated, or their lifestyles of glowing up just weren't sustainable for me. So, I created this post for everyone planning to glow up or maximise their prettiness!

DISCLAIMER – THIS POST IS NOT DETAILED. I wanted to do a simple outline to give you guys an idea of what to do to maximise your pretty. A little help to plan, especially as we enter 2024, but I’ll expand on these individual topics in the future.

GRADE 1 – HEALTH

Being healthy can make you SO pretty. Being healthy is the foundation. There are other ways to be physically healthy, but after doing these 4 the rest usually fall in place. Here are some simple ways to become healthier, and then eventually prettier!

HEALTHY EATING.

I'm not going to go super deep into this, as no diet fits everyone + Please consult with your doctor before taking any extreme advice. Though, I'll tell you a bit of things that helped me !!

Stop drinking soda. Please, it's so unhealthy and it's full of so many sugars. Even the ones that are 0 cal, have weird chemicals that I don't trust. Many more alternatives taste just as good, like coconut water, herbal drinks, smoothies etc! Especially because nowadays most large calories and sugar intakes are from sugary drinks

Stop restricting, moderate it. I am a big fan of dairy, yoghurt, milk, and cheese, I love it all. However I acknowledge that dairy isn’t the healthiest, so instead I always ensure I'm eating in moderation. E.g I put a tablespoon of shredded cheese in my omelettes instead of a handful. You will enjoy healthy eating so much, but only if you're not restricting.

Have one serving of fruit, vegetables, or both with each meal. It provides so many good nutrients, makes you fuller and keeps you hydrated. Measure with your palm to ensure you’re eating enough.

Know that just because one food has fewer calories than the other, does not mean it is the healthiest. I struggled so much with this, especially because many weight loss accounts will mention this, but it is so wrong. White bread has fewer calories than brown bread, but brown bread is higher in nutritional value.

Plan snacks. Planning snacks for throughout the day, instead of spontaneously eating is so much better. I recommend this for anyone who gets hungry during the day but not enough for a meal (like me!)

Drink more water. Not 1L a day, because it is so much more ideal for you to have a glass of water with each meal + when you feel thirsty.

Start educating yourself. This is as much as I can tell you, im not a nutritionist or a dietitian but if you plan to ensure that healthy eating becomes your lifestyle, educating yourself is essential!!

EXERCISING.

Once again, I'm only going to go surface level with this because it is only based on my personal experience + Consult with your doctor before doing anything extreme.

Start aiming for 5k+ steps. I see a lot of people advertise 10k+ steps as the standard, or what's active, but it's not sustainable If you're a busy person with a sedentary life or a beginner at exercise it is gonna be hard to sustain that. But walking is so good for you and simple too.

Join your local sports! Such a fun way to socialise while still exerting energy.

If you can't do that for whatever reason, there are many ways to exercise at home. Research and pick a workout that you like and is sustainable. E.g. jump rope, pilates, home exercises, weightlifting, biking

Start standing more, it exerts energy. While very little, it still is very good.

That's it, but remember to always start small with exercising, and RESEARCH!

BETTER SLEEP

To me, it doesn’t matter how much sleep a person is getting, but much more rather the quality of said sleep. So, here are some tricks and tips to get better at sleeping!!

Investing in a good quality pillow is so good for your sleep, the more comfortable you are, the better + it reduces the chances of poor posture or hump necks

Research about different sleeping positions, as some positions at night promote back pain, difficulty breathing or poor posture.

Start sleeping in complete darkness. Remove all sources of light or invest in good light-blocking curtains OR binders. Though, binders seem to be much more effective but are more pricey. If you cannot do either of that, buy a good sleeping mask.

Sleep in the cold. Your body easily falls asleep if your environment is cold, and you’re less likely to wake up in the middle of the night.

It is ideal for you to stop using devices an hour or two before bed, but if it is not sustainable for you, wear red blue-light-blocking glasses instead of clear ones. Red ones are more effective.

Avoid large physical or mental tasks before bed, use that time to unwind and tell your body it's time to go to sleep.

Avoid napping for longer than 30 minutes, or it can disrupt the sleep you have at night.

Go to sleep at similar times every day. If you go to sleep earlier or later than this, you will ruin your sleep schedule and feel groggy.

I expand more here.

ORAL HEALTH

This is a step many people will neglect, but the most important in my opinion. Your teeth are the only body part that fails to regenerate after a certain age. Here's how I take care of mine!

Brush your teeth for longer. Brushing your teeth should not be a sped-up process, put actual thought into it.

Start flossing. Floss removes plaque, and reduces the chances of your teeth yellowing! Do this ideally after each meal.

Brush your teeth before you eat. Brushing my teeth is the first thing I do when I wake up because brushing your teeth is supposed to protect your teeth from the food, not wash away your food.

If you have the means, buy an electric toothbrush, as this gets in the little nooks and crannies that a regular one cannot.

Use a tongue scraper or your toothbrush to get rid of any bacteria on your tongue.

Use straws to drink coffee or any heavily coloured drinks. This avoids the premature yellowing of teeth. Make sure you put the straw on the side of your mouth to avoid your teeth.

Use good mouthwash. A total game-changer, makes your breath fresher and your gums healthier.

If need be, definitely use a purple teeth serum as a whitening treatment.

GRADE 2: STYLE

I do not mean literal clothes and style, that's in grade 3. This is all about basic grooming and such. This is 2nd most important, especially if you're somebody who’s never been invested in beauty.

SKINCARE

Get a basic skincare routine, cleanser and moisturiser.

If you have other skincare concerns e.g. dry skin, hyperpigmentation, acne, or blemishes, invest in a serum.

Avoid touching your face frequently.

Wash makeup brushes & pillowcases often.

Dermaplaning to help skincare absorb better.

Use sunscreen!

HAIRCARE

Invest in a good shampoo and conditioner for your hair type.

Use a good hair oil, it doesn’t have to be for growth, but just for nourishing your scalp

Sleep with a good quality bonnet on.

Find which type of hairbrush works the best on you!

Use warm water to remove product build up and dirt, but use cool water to rinse.

Buy spray suncsreen to put on your scalp during hot weather.

Once again, research. Hair is just too much of a broad topic for me to thoroughly talk about.

EYEBROW & LASHES

Trim your eyebrows regularly to avoid too many stray hairs

Tint your eyebrows and lashes. If you already have dark eyelashes and brows, try a lighter look. I seem to prefer a dark brown look to a black

Invest in a good lash & brow serum or use any oil

Don't use Vaseline on your eyelashes.

Limit how much you wear mascara.

I talk more about this here.

BODY & HANDS

Have a daily shower routine which consists of washing, exfoliating and moisturising your skin.

Using scented products is such a game changer, smelling good is like being a magnet

Doing manicures, my routine is a cuticle scrub, file, buff, polish, paint then cuticle oil.

Shave on the areas you want to. Having smooth skin is nice, but to ensure your shave lasts longer, watch a video.

I post about creating a good shower routine here.

LIPS

Invest in a good, portable lip balm. I prefer the ones that burn your lips to give it a more fuller effect

Make your lip scrub. Sugar, honey and turmeric are my go-to. Helps remove dead skin.

If you have hyperpigmentation around the lips, use glycolic acid, only a little.

GRADE 3 – FASHION

My favourite grade, because it is so fun and focuses more on the aesthetic side of things. However, they're not essential, which makes it all the more fun!

CLOTHES

I have a post about wardrobe essentials here.

Find out about what season colours you are. This helps with using colours in fashion to enhance. ( if you don't like your colours it is okay, it doesn’t change much if you do not wear them)

Figuring out your undertone colours for jewellery.

Figure out what works for your figure. Experiment with necklines, bottom length etc.

Find out your general style too, what you feel confident in and more assured.

MAKEUP

Research and only watch tutorials of women who look like you (trust me).

Dear Peachie has a bunch of videos of how makeup works, for beginners to more advanced artists!

Then make your signature look for every using your knowledge.

FRAGRANCE

Invest in a good eau de parfum and eau de toilette. Cheap fragrances suck.

Invest in a good-scented lotion. My favourite brand is Vaseline.

Using a good nice fabric softener for laundry makes you feel and smell fresh

Using an expensive scented body wash doesn’t matter, invest in a good body lotion.

HAIR STYLING

Hairstyles that enhance your face shape, not shield it.

Having a simple signature look for everyday

Experimenting with your hair is ideal, but if you can't for whatever reason once again research.

GRADE 4 – PERSONALITY

The way you seem to others can make you so much prettier. Fake it till you make it as always~

POSTURE

Having good posture makes you stand out, makes you look prettier and is generally good for your health

Chin is parallel to the floor, shoulders are down and relaxed, rib cage is elevated, pelvis is tucked in, your knees straight and flexed, and the weight on your feet should be in the center.

You can stretch for good posture, there are many videos on this on YouTube.

Ensure your sleeping position is promoting good posture, not poor.

Buy a back brace to reinforce good posture.

BODY LANGUAGE

Learn how to move your body during conversations to seem more self-respected and confident.

Train your facial expressions for different situations, but especially for taking photos.

There are tons of books and videos on this, won’t expand because this is all about how you want others to perceive you.

ELOQUENCE

Improve the way you communicate with others. Be fluent and clear to understand

Expand your vocabulary, know how to substitute words on the spot and make sentences.

Knowing what to say in like any and every conversation makes people like you more, and the best way to be more eloquent is just practice.

There are so many good books about this.. read.

GRADE 5 – MIND

Personally, having a good mindset does boost your self-perception of your prettiness + being happier in general makes you more inclined to take care of yourself = being more pretty!!!

MENTAL HEALTH

Start journaling as a way to organise your thoughts and to truly analyse your emotions. There are a lot of journaling prompts on Pinterest and such!

Meditation as a way to clear the mind when needed is so good. There are a bunch more meditations for other purposes though like body image, productivity, focus or just general relaxation.

Go to therapy, or just have at least one person you can talk to when life becomes tough.

Cut back on social media. There's misinformation, trolls and a lot of content that isn't nourishing your mind.

Get some sun! Simple and doable, but has a huge effect on the body. It can improve the current mood. Wear sunscreen.

Start learning how to process situations, instead of bypassing the emotions that come with them.

Start surrounding yourself with like-minded people. Seriously, being around people who are just too different is draining.

MINDSET

Embrace growth and reject all forms of comfort. Being uncomfortable with something is growth.

Don’t do things because you ‘have’ to do this, do them because they benefit you and see it in that way. E.g ‘I’m going to clean my room because I deserve a clean place to rest and work’ instead of ‘I have to clean my room’

Become detached. Stop letting everything that happens in your life affect you, start observing instead of consuming.

Self validates yourself. Tam Kaur did a wonderful video on this that I think everyone should watch.

Stop believing that everything and everyone is out to get you. Your subconscious mind believes this, do not feed it, starve it.

There's a lot to say about mindset, but I recommend watching some mindset YouTubers who explain everything in depth.

and now,,,, here's a ANOTHER gift from lanny because u read her post. And liked it. And reblogged it. And followed her.. pleaseee

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