#((Yes I am trying to bridge the gap between the fandoms I am in. Yes I am still on my propaganda train. Choo Choo!!!))

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Trapped in a vicious cycle of pining? Try gay sex! (More things to learn over at Tiger Tiger!)

[courtingchaos]

Unclean

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Warnings: Religious themes, menstruation: sex and talk of, fingering, blood in various places, allusions to physical abuse (not reader) it’s period sex!

A/N: Listen, I am an ex-for-almost-20-years-Catholic who grew up around a lot of Southern Baptist, so excuse my (probable) misinterpretation of Leviticus okay? I just think Roy Tillman is a real Old Testament guy. I’ve had this little one shot in the wings for a while and only got the guts to finish it recently. I’m also deeply aware that I am interpreting this character much differently than the fandom at large so like, peace be with you.

18+ NSFW No Minors

Nothing but low lights behind the pulpit and a few along the aisles to let you see the outline of him in the first pew. Leaned forward, still and quiet in the cold dark that seeps into the small wooden church. Outside, the calvary congregates and converses after their Sunday dinner provided by their shepherd and in here, in the small family chapel, it’s just the two of you in the glow of old bulbs. Warm yellow gives the bridge of his nose a highlight and shines off the sun bleached strands in his hair. When your footsteps reach his radius he looks over his shoulder, tense and sharp, but the golden glow reflects off his eyes to give him a softer look than he deserves.

You stop two pews back and he gives you a once over, nervous eyes flitting from your head to your feet and up again before he begins chewing on his bottom lip. “You go home?”

“Yes.”

“Why you still in your dress?”

“It’s still Sunday.”

He laughs through his nose and turns back to the pulpit, thumb rubbing lightly against his reddened lip. “Did you stop at the house?”

You step forward one more length of pew and stop again to watch him fidget with the vape in his hand. “No, Roy wanted to talk to my father so I came back out here.”

Gator hums, a twitch of his lip letting his displeasure show for just a moment. The smack of the metal against his palm is loud in the small space like the yell you know he’d like to let loose would be. Sharp and mean like his demeanor, trying to be like his father but just south of right.

“Did you eat?” You ask while creeping up beside him. The smoke from the pit nearby has snuck in through the gaps in the doorways and mingled with the dry smell of wood and old hay. This chapel has always reminded you of an attic with its exposed beams but the scent of decades old pine makes you the most nostalgic.

“No.”

“Not hungry?”

He looks up at you before he sits back against the bench, takes in your pieces before the whole of you, eyes flitting again from your open coat to the hem of your dress fluttering just below your knee. Vape set aside he reaches out to drag a finger up from your knee and under that hem where you keep some of your secrets. Lines of ink not even your parents have seen, another cut you’ve inflicted like the hundred others while trying to claw your way out of this compound.

Fingers dig into the back of your thigh to hold you in front of him, lets the heat from his palm sink in while he doesn’t answer you.

“What was this morning about?”

He tilts his head in lieu of opening his mouth.

“Roy was on his ‘god honoring woman’ kick again. Did Karen piss him off last night?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t home.” His other hand snakes between your thighs to hold higher up. “She didn’t look upset.” He drops his gaze then to stare at the yellow flowers dotted over the black fabric of your dress, the one your mother bought you as a threat veiled in a peace offering.

“A little too much Leviticus for my taste.”

“Mm.”

Your coat lands on the floor behind you and his fingers inch higher on the inside of your thigh. He seems fixed on the way your dress bunches over his wrist instead of the soft touch behind his ear where you tuck an errant strand of hair finally falling out of its place. Outside there’s a muffled uproar of laughter that makes you cast a sharp look through the foggy windows and Gator takes the opportunity to move his warmth away to pluck at the buttons at the top of your dress.

“Little low cut for church.”

“My mother doesn’t think so.”

“I’ll thank her later.” An actual smile this time as the first button slips through silky cotton, followed by two more before you stop him. The wood creaks under your knee as you shift your weight to it, sliding it up against his hip. Again his hand finds your thigh, up high to find his favorite ink, a simple black line cross that his thumb rubs small circles into.

He hasn’t noticed yet that you tucked your underwear in your coat before you walked all the way out here. Risky since this morning left you with a bloody visit and now you sit unclean under the rafters his family raised. Your dress slides up easily enough, almost up enough to share your secret, and finally he pulls you close. Tugs at you to get you over his lap, your other knee colliding dully with the bench back.

It’s like a switch with him sometimes the way his mood will turn. Sour petulance that makes you roll your eyes will break for roaming hands that map out your body. Sullen quiet suddenly loud with his wants, with his questions, with his panting and moaning. Any place he can have you but more often in places that would bring down his father’s ire if you were found.

Flush against him now he pulls you down to meet the seat of his hips before he pushes your dress up around your waist and pauses mid grope to laugh.

“Does your mother approve of this too?” Fingers move again along the crease of your hip until they reach soft curls. He catches your eye and doesn’t look away as he dips his fingers into your heat, his lip caught between his teeth again, this time with a smirk. He pushes up slow, thick fingers dragging against oversensitive flesh, his palm flat so you can grind against him. Words seem caught in his throat, probably something goading and whispered, something laughed out on a breath. You know he wants to make you blush about how wet you already are and how loud you’re panting but he changes his angle and moves his hand, pulls it back in front of himself and stops to stare at the red staining his fingers.

“Oh.” You don’t pretend to sound surprised. He frowns but doesn’t push you away like you thought he might’ve, instead he seems frozen in place and you don’t miss the blush beginning to trickle down his cheeks. “It’s okay.” You grab his fist hovering between you. “It’s okay.” You repeat and he looks at you then, wide eyes searching for something. Leaned in close you bring his hand up slow, up towards his lips parted around a whispered sound of protest.

“Is-isn’t this breaking a r-rule or something?”

He doesn’t curl his fingers away when you press them to his mouth, a long line of blood from his cupids bow to his chin. With your free hand you fumble with his belt and his pants, keeping his doe eyed gaze glued to yours.

“Your father walks in here without burning.”

Confusion has nestled its way into his features, eyes squinted at you until you wedge your hand in between thick fabric and hot skin. His gaze droops when you pull him free, mouth splitting open with a quiet gasp. You move then, sitting up on your knees to look down on him wanting and blooded, dragging your hands down his long arms along the back the of the pew outstretched to grip the hardwood with white knuckles. Fear, you think at first, from the wild print you’ve left on his face. Anxiousness maybe that he might be found like this, not just compromised but marked now, cut off from the flock finally.

“Gator…” You barely whisper and he’s chasing you upwards. Against the restraints of your hands on his wrists he pulls when your lips don’t descend to meet his.

A choked off whine, “Please.” His hips wiggle between your knees for some kind of friction, anything to get closer. “C’mon, come back.” He pleads through clenched teeth, tacky red turning matte on his full lips. It draws you back in and he smiles when you close the distance with a brush of a kiss, something light that makes him huff before you consume him.

He doesn’t taste like when you bite your cheek or suck on a paper cut. It’s a foreign taste on a familiar tongue, faint passion fruit from his habit and a metallic tinge that makes you groan into him. He feels good. Pinned like a fluttering moth looking for an escape, for a saving grace that he seems to find in your lips and the dip of your tongue. His breath comes in sharp puffs through his nose smushed against your cheek and again you hear him whine when you don’t let him raise his hands.

A shake of his head to break the kiss to get his point across to take a deep breath-

Outside there’s heavy footfalls on the old wooden steps. Both of you freeze like deer, your eyes trained on the heavy door and his boring through your chin, waiting to bolt at the first sign of discovery.

Muffled voices, a click of metal and your heart in your throat when this unsuspecting intruder has a change of pace. A muffled question. A pause. Quiet laughter and parting footsteps.

Your fingers simply drape and Gator takes the opportunity to surge into you. Hands grabbing at your hips to hold you closer, pushing you down on him. He guides himself in with his thumb, a quick brush over that ache of yours amplified through thrill and nature.

You miss him watching your face scrunch up in apprehension. Lips parted like his, pink lipstick smudged with blood, only you hiss out an “easy” that he answers with a shush. Lets his hands run back up under your dress to find his favorite little scar of ink, smearing red along the way. Almost dry now but his fingerprints in your mess between the two of you make him forget his reservations for a few minutes. He forgets the crowd outside and the house ten minutes away. Pushes the expectations away. He instead watches you relax into him, the way your hands unwind from his shirt only to feel them slide up behind his neck to wind back up in his hair. Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip before you bite down on a moan when he bucks his hips up gently.

This wet heat, new to him in this taboo, draws him in when you roll your hips in earnest suddenly. You’ve angled him to find that magic spot he’s usually still searching for by this point, your head rolling back on your shoulders to ride your knees raw against the wood. The deep heat of you almost scorches him, a small voice in the back of his thoughts reminding him of hellfire and naked founts.

“Fuck.” Said out loud in the hopes of chasing away a voice tinged with vitriol and a release of the climbing pleasure up his spine. You writhe in his lap and he gropes at your hips, slides long fingers down and under to grab at your thighs. Slick with sweat you slip in his grasp, heavy breaths blown over his locks when you finally reach behind him to hold onto the bench.

The open top of your dress brushes his face enough times he bites at the buttons, finally catching them between his teeth. Through his lashes he watches your face, glued to the peek of teeth behind your lips. The way you glitter in low light and muggy air. The dip of your collar bones when you roll your body into his and he can feel you tighten all around him, core and arms and air.

A not gentle hand suddenly wrapped around his jaw, fingers prodding into his mouth to hang and pull. Wandering lips messily find his own and then trail off over his cheek to end at his ear, your peak whined against him. Pulsing that makes him hold you closer so he can chase after you to find his own end.

He’s been on the precipice since you threw your coat on the ground and all it takes is a few gentle thrusts before he chokes on a groan and suddenly he feels bottomless. No floor, no bonfires, no congregants too close for comfort. Just your face in his neck and the shared messy warmth pressed between you two.

There’s a swing of headlights over the front of the chapel that breaks whatever tandem calm you two have created. Separated wordlessly with barely a glance at the extra mess, Gator quickly readjusts his pants and you snatch your coat on your way to the small ladies room in the foyer. More muffled voices tonight that intrude on your privacy while you scrub smudged lipstick off your face and rebutton your dress, jumping only a little when there’s a knock at the door.

“You fall in?” Your father jokes on the other side.

“Give me a minute!” You snap while trying to slide your underwear back on. A final look before you walk out to make sure the surface of you is presentable, no visible marks or smudges. Out in the entryway your father gestures at you to follow and Roy gives you too long of a look when he waves. You wonder if he can see it all over your face even though you scrubbed the evidence off. Wonder if he can smell it on you two like a predator sniffing out wounded prey.

Can he see your handprints all over his son? Invisible blood that marks him different now. The tang of sin sits all over your tongue and when you run it behind your teeth to savor you catch Gator staring again. Catch him watching your hands twist in your coat pockets and his eyes flit back up to your mouth. You can feel the faded touch of him worrying at your tattoo even across a courtyard.

“Hey Gator?” You holler at him while climbing into your father’s truck. “Don’t forget dinner.” A simple smile for him before you slam the door, a break in the tension and your phone is vibrating seconds later. You wait to look until your home but it still makes you laugh even when you’re starting your laundry.

Thank your mom for me.

[klbwriting]

Adventures In Atlantean-Sitting

Chapter 13

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: violence

Summary: YN goes to save Orm

Notes: Here it is, the end! I hope you enjoyed! Comments/critiques are appreciated

Orm waited until they were halfway to the beach before he started fighting the guards. His hands were bound so he threw his weight into one of soldiers holding him, knocking him to the ground, causing the other to let go of Orm in surprise. Orm jumped back, dodging as another guard tried to grab him. He started to run when a shot passed his head, nearly clipping him. He stopped and turned. Orlan was holding the pulsar, now aimed right for Orm’s head. Orlan’s eyes were narrow, his face reddened.

“The next one will kill you; I don’t care if the council wants you alive,” he said. The guards watched as he approached Orm, grabbing onto his arm roughly. “I have wanted to kill you for years, do not tempt me now, my son is supposed to do the honor.” His voice was low so only Orm could hear but it just confirmed his suspicions. Leo was going to ‘attack’ the convoy taking Orm back to Atlantis and he was meant to be a casualty in the crossfire. He let Orlan guide him back to the others and let the soldiers take hold of him again. The whole delay was only around two minutes, he just hoped that was enough time for YN and Arthur to get ready.

YN noticed the beach was quiet, she and Arthur were seemingly the only ones around. They were currently holed up in lifeguard’s shack, watching for signs of Leo and any men he had brought. Arthur had contacted Mera, Nereus, and Atlanna, they were ready and waiting in the shallows. Arthur was antsy, wanting to get this over with and hopefully get his power back. He didn’t realize what he could do with the power he had until he lost it. Already the council was trying to undo his work in bridging the gap between the surface and the sea and he needed to be reinstated to get back on track. YN just wanted to get Orm back to her cottage and their life together. Finally, she saw Orlan and his guards with Orm, walking him down the beach.

“Hold until Leo shows himself,” YN said, noticing Arthur getting ready to throw open the door. He eyed her.

“I am a king you know,” he grumbled. She rolled her eyes. He hmphed and sat back again, watching.

They had just passed the lifeguard shack when Leo and nearly a dozen Atlanteans emerged from under the boardwalk nearby. They aimed their weapons at Orlan and the guards. YN watched the guards. They seemed genuinely confused, Orlan, however, was probably the worst actor she had ever seen.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice louder than necessary. Leo smirked and became just as bad an actor as his father.

“I have come to take my revenge from the tyrant king for trying to banish us,” Leo said. “Step aside and you will not die today, leave the prisoner with me for execution.” Orlan held up a hand.

“Enough, we do not need to shed blood tod…” he never finished. Leo shot his father in the chest. This was surprising. Arthur, YN, and the rest of those hiding came out of their places, weapons ready, but confused.

“Finally,” Leo said. “Come on, I am going to kill that bastard king, but I was so tired to dancing to that idiot’s tune.” His men all aimed their weapons as the guards, ready to fire.

“Stop!” Arthur yelled. Leo rolled his eyes.

“Why? What could you, a half-breed, possibly say to stop this?” he asked. YN was reminded of a petulant child who needed a nap. Arthur stepped forward, next to Orm. Leo re-aimed at Arthur.

“Whoa, calm down there Terminator, I just want to know why you shot your dad, weren’t you both trying some kind of coup?” he asked. Leo let out an aggravated breath.

“Yes, but that old asshole would have just used the coup to become King of Atlantis. Why just Atlantis?” he asked. “So now, I kill everyone and then I…take over everything. Where Orm tried to be Ocean Master I will become Ocean Master, I will take Atlan’s trident from your cold dead hands, and then after I am ruler of the seas I will come here to the surface, now, fire away.” His men tried to fire but found their weapons useless. “What the hell?” YN held up a device, red light blinking on it.

“O, sorry, those are useless now thanks to my friend here,” she said. She put the device in a pocket and held up another, a tranquilizer gun. She was able to get off two shots, taking out two of Leo’s men before he started hand to hand combat. Orm moved aside, going to a guard who, after a few moments of contemplation, freed him from his restraints. He wasn’t given a weapon, but he didn’t need one. Arthur and Atlanna fought together with their tridents while Mera sent sharpened water with pinpoint accuracy. The Atlantean soldiers who had come with Orlan fought also. All the while YN was dodging, firing tranqualizer darts at any of Leo’s men. She finally was able to sneak up behind Leo, pressing a tack into his neck and holding her Atlantean dagger to his throat.

“Hold!” Leo yelled. He only had a couple fighting soldiers left but everyone froze at his cry. YN glared, looking at him. Nereus darted off, going to get reinforcements from Atlantis. “Going to kill me surface scum?”

“I should, for everything you’ve done, for hurting people in my city, for trying to kill me, for trying to frame Orm. I should kill you, but I don’t think they want me to do that, they need someone to arrest and prosecute,” she said. Leo laughed. “Something funny?”

“Who is going to arrest me? This is clearly an attack that Orm and you planned. I was trying to help my father contain the threat when you killed him, and his men, and then tried to kill me,” he said. Atlanna shook her head.

“I do not think anyone will believe your story Leo,” she said. “We have proof of everything that has happened here.” She motioned to the camera on top of the lifeguard shack. Leo glared, snarling. He moved, surprising YN, knocking her back into the sand and disarming her. He turned, bringing the dagger she had just been holding down, the tip just inches from her chest when a strong hand grabbed his wrist. Orm used all his strength, knowing that Leo had none at the moment, and threw the man to the ground.

“You almost killed her once and I promised that the next time I saw you I would kill you,” Orm said, grabbing the knife himself. He picked Leo to stand, the knife once again at his throat. YN stood, putting her hand to Orm’s shoulder. He took a deep breath. YN wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want him to kill again, cause more pain and bloodshed. “But I don’t think I will.” He pushed Leo towards Arthur, who had him restrained along with the rest of his men. The victors lined the prisoners up on the beach just in time for the council and more soldiers to arrive. By then Orm and YN were safe in the shack, hiding out again.

Arthur showed the video to the council, explaining that Orm had been caught, along with the traitor from the surface, however Leo had intervened, and they had disappeared in the fighting. Atlanna also presented the evidence they had found that cleared Orm of the surface attacks. He was still wanted for his escape from the deserter prison and for trying to hurt the heir to the throne, but these attacks were not his. The council seemed satisfied, taking Leo and his men back to Atlantis. Once everything was clear Orm and YN returned to the cottage.

“Do you think we should find a new place to live?” YN asked a few weeks later. She was nervous, wondering if the council would return. Arthur assured her that his power was back in place and that the council thought Orm and her were far away, in Russia, and they were safe. But she still worried. Orm walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind as they looked out the front window. “No, I think we are safe here, in our witch’s house in the woods,” he said, kissing her head. She smiled and leaned to him, taking a deep breath. They were still in hiding, but at least they weren’t alone.

[screemnch]

About your Danyas and Tyomas

Hi, it’s almost 2 am and I have a flight in like, 9 hours, which means it’s time for pedantic linguistic musings. Specifically I’d like to share some fun info about Russian phonetics (which I’ve stated many times are really weird) and how that relates to the diminutive names that you can give to Russian characters (including these stupid pathologic characters that live in my head rent free)

As a final preamble I want to point out that this isn’t a critique on the English only speakers within the fandom. I love y’all and you are awesome. However, Russian is it’s own language with distinctive phonetics and notations, and the English language is a bit too… Not limited, but different, and it does not convey Russian words and names properly, especially in notation (don’t get me started on how “Tycheek” is actually pronounced in Russian). And since I’m also here to bridge the gap between languages while also trying not to completely Englishize and Americanize my existence… I’ve decided to talk about the dreaded Russian “y-” vowels.

The Russian language has 10 vowels, which are:

а (“ah” sound, but shorter)

o (“oh” sound but without the “h”)

у (“oo” sound but can be as short as you’d like”)

э (“eh” or like the “e” in the word “ten”)

и (“ee” sound, also can be as short as you’d like)

ы (uhhhhhh… Best I can describe it is the sound you make when you get punched in the stomach)

And that’s it! Here’s the part where you go “wait, tumblr user screemnch, that’s only 6 vowels! Why are you lying to me?” The thing is tho, that I am not lying to you. The other 4 vowels “е”, “ё”, “ю”, and “я” are what I can only describe as “composite vowels” as in vowels that are made up of those I’ve already told you about and the awesome letter “й” (which has the same sound as the “y” in “yes”).

The vowel “e” is comprised of “й” and “э” to make a “yeh” sound.

The vowel “ё” is comprised of “й” and “о” to make a “yoh” sound.

The vowel “ю” is comprised of “й” and “у” to make a “you” sound.

The vowel “я” is comprised of “й” and “а” to make a “yah” sound.

With me so far?

The names we’re looking at today are Daniil (Даниил) and Artemy (Артемий), for which people have elected to use the diminutives of Danya (Даня) and Tyoma (Тёма). Based off of what I explained just now, this makes sense phonetically (and I’ll bet my money that it was my fellow Russian speakers that told y’all about them). HOWEVER. Do not be fooled, do not be deceived. Because Russian phonetic laws get even weirder.

The phonetics I’ve illustrated for you make sense in particular instances. Mainly, when a “composite vowel” is the letter in the very beginning of the word (such as the last name of the Russian actor Oleg Yankovsky. The letter “Я” being in the front makes the “yah” sound).

The other instance is when the “composite vowel” is prefaced with either the soft (ь) or hard (ъ) sign, such is the Russian spelling of cognac (коньяк). These signs have no sound of their own, but provide a kind of separation that allows these “composite vowels” to sounds as I described.

Are you ready for the curveball? It happens when a “composite vowel” is prefaced with a consonant. See, almost all Russian consonants have a “hard” and “soft” versions. It’s a very slight phonemic difference that is difficult to catch if you hadn’t been hearing Russian since childhood (cuz that’s how learning how to distinguish phonemes works. You’re most fine-tuned to the phonemes of the language you were surrounded by as a kid) and is difficult to explain. But I will attempt to.

When you say the word “no” the consonant “n” is a hard one. If you were to use the “soft” version while trying to say “no”, it’d sound a but closer to how you say “gnocchi”.

When you say… Ugh, ok, when you say “nya~” the consonant “n” is a soft one. If you attempted to use the “hard” version while trying to say “nya~” it’d sound more like “nah”.

And that’s what happens in the Russian language. The presence of a regular vowel (except for “и”) dictates that the consonant prior to it is a “hard” one. The presence of a “composite vowel” in turn swallows the “й” (y-) sound in return for softening the prior consonant. Consonants can be soft in other instances. Idk if I’ve actually done it in my analyses when attempting to write phonetics, but you may have seen me use an apostrophe after some letters. I got it in my head some long time ago that that’s how you indicate soft consonants when writing in English, and it’s too late to stop now.

So, if the “й” (y-) sound gets swallowed by the prior consonant, all we get to hear is the “-а” although it sounds like a “я”. So let’s try saying “nya~” the Russian way.

You’d start as if you were trying to say “nya~” how you would in English, but stop short before you actually open your mouth. Substitute the “ya” with an “a” or “ah” sound. The softer “n” sound will alter the vowel, creating (hopefully) the authentic, Russian “ня”.

So, when, for example, saying the name Даня you would apply the same logic. The “y-” sound gets swallowed up by the softened “n”. Same for Тёма. The softer “t” (like in “tea”) swallows up the “y-” sound.

And yes, I’m aware that there isn’t much one can do when writing down names using English letters. But I also don’t really want the whimsical and weird Russian pronunciation to go unappreciated. It’s my language, dangit, it’s worth learning.

Also, I’d encourage you to explore some more fun Russian diminutives. With the names we explored alone you can get the actual Russian nicknames of Данечька (“Danech’ka” using the “-ech’ka/ochka” suffix) and Артёмка (“Artyomka” using the “-ka” suffix).

This concludes today’s linguistic ramblings (and totally not secret propaganda to get people to learn Russian.)

[tokuvivor]

Thanks for the tag on this one, @shychick-52! (Update: And @writebackatya.)

how many fics do you have on ao3?

12.

what's your total ao3 word count?

69,172.

what are your top five fics by kudos?

The Power of Three

Bridging the Gap

We Could Bring You a Hamburger…

One Night Ultimate Duck (Or Hummingbird, or Parrot)

Duckverse June 2023 Prompts (yes, it’s a story collection, but it still counts)

what fandoms do you write for?

DuckTales 2017, mostly, a bit for Super Sentai, did one for the Netflix show Dash & Lily, and I have a couple ideas of fics relating to other shows.

do you respond to comments? why or why not?

Yes! Someone took time out of their day to read my stuff and leave their input on it, and the least I could do is show my appreciation for it in return, and elaborate on any questions they may have.

what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Shit, I’m really not good with ending stories on a down note; I try to make the endings as satisfying as possible. But I’d say the closest thing to that is for my 6th Webby Week story, Am I Good Enough? (An Internal Battle). It’s basically just Webby wrestling over being chosen by the Papyrus in her mind. Even though it doesn’t end on an outright fairy tale note, she does recognize that it’s okay to not have something that big figured out immediately, and that it’s good to talk about it with other people if you have trouble processing it.

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

That’s a tough one. There are probably certain stories I’ll discuss in later answers, so for this one, I’ll go with We Could Bring You a Hamburger…. I mean, it’s just a sweet, simple story about something that absolutely should’ve been shown in canon (Webby getting her first hamburger). It’s just a good, satisfying, slice of life kinda thing.

do you get hate on your fics?

Well, on the second chapter of The Power of Three, I got somebody telling me that Huey shouldn’t be guilty over going against his general Woodchuck instinct and leaving Violet behind, and that he should be jealous and upset with Violet and Lena for insulting him and making him feel miserable. Jesus.

do you write smut?

No. I honestly don’t think I’d be good at it. Especially regarding a show like DuckTales. If I were to, it’d probably be wayyyyy down the road.

do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've ever written?

Not actively; if I write something with multiple fandom tags on AO3, it’s mostly because minor elements of one thing are peppered into my DT story.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

No. Thank god.

have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but that’d be interesting.

have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Yes; I started working with @sisiwritesfanfics on her Super Sentai Couples One-Shot Collection beginning with the second story. We’re currently trying to work on the third.

what's your all time favorite ship?

I don’t know, probably Fendra? But I generally prefer fanworks of them more, especially when stories go more in-depth regarding their relationship than we got in canon. There are others in DuckTales, and other pieces of media, that I really enjoy, though.

what's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

At the moment, none. But there are a couple idea that I have that I don’t know if I’d ever start.

what are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, especially between two characters, and being able to really get into characters’ minds.

what are your writing weaknesses?

Writing full-on angst. I can incorporate bits of angst into stories, especially when it’s introspective, but a full story of it just wouldn’t be my thing (so, way longer than Am I Good Enough?). Also, losing motivation at certain points in time.

thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I’ve done bits of gratuitous Spanish or Latin in my stories before, but no full-on dialogue. But I did provide the translated Spanish dialogue between Fenton, Gosalyn, and Webby in @writebackatya’s story Let’s All Go to the Movies!.

first fandom you wrote for?

Technically speaking, I did a piece based on Wreck-It Ralph back in high school for my creative writing class. So that, I guess.

favorite fic you've ever written?

Massive toss-up for me here. The Power of Three is special because it was my first fic, and it focuses on the budding dynamic between Huey, Violet, and Boyd, which absolutely should have been explored in the show. But my other major early idea for a DuckTales story turned into Bridging the Gap. Gandra isn’t written nearly as often alongside Huey, and we only really got a resolution of her relationship with Fenton (amongst main and major recurring characters) in the show, so I wanted to build on the pieces we got between Gandra and Huey in her episodes, which culminated in what I still think is my absolute favorite scene I’ve written. I think the overall edge goes to Power, but Bridging isn’t far behind in my heart.

Tagging @godfrey-the-chaos-duck and @sparklingspidey

[zenaidamacrouras1]

Hey so about SPD - I think I have complications from it still, my kid is like a year old. Do you have any advice on dealing with that?

Hi yes! It's funny because so much of my tumblr is Marvel fandom but I forget how some of my "indignities of gestating" posts break containment. Hi friend! Congrats on your one year old. What a sweet age!

So, to everyone who may read: when you make a whole baby inside your musculoskeletal system and especially if you eject it vaginally (well probably c-sections too I just don't know about them) it's not surprising that some of your body parts end up in the wrong place as a side effect. I do NOT UNDERSTAND why assessing for such issues is not standard. It makes me SO ANGRy. So yes I will now overshare about my experience.

You may want a chiropractor to realign your pelvis/hips/spine/etc post partum, I did this and I believe it helped. It may take 2-3 visits if things are really out of whack. If the chiro doesn't give you exercises to strengthen in addition to realignment, then I would get thee to a physical therapist next. Or do PT first if you have to choose.

Physical therapy, specifically strengthening your thighs, hips and pelvic floor I would guess, may help. You (everyone!) should find a PT that knows things about post partum bodies, which is not every physical therapist. I ended up going to a person who specialized in pelvic floor weakness after my first kid and then I had diastasis recti, which is when your ab muscles separate, as well as pelvic floor drama, after the second.

Both times I was able to find a PT with post partum experience by just calling the larger PT places in town and asking for that.

Fyi: Diastasis recti: (If you tense your ab muscles and push down right above or below your belly button, those muscles should not have a gap wider than a finger or so there, if they do that's diastasis recti and physical therapy will help). (Fwiw I didn't know I had DR but I went to the PT for crippling back pain figuring something was broken and hey! that's what it was. Fun story but my second kid was born 10 lbs and then doubled in size like immediately and oh my god. Sometimes I see one year olds that are the size my monster was at 3 months. I still remember trying to fit him in a newborn size diaper at the hospital and he just busted out of it. The nurses were so excited to weigh him when he was born because they had bets on if he would top 10 lb. When the midwife was checking my abdomen to feel his position while I was in labor, she said in alarm, "how tall are you??" i said "about 6 ft." And she said, "wow! Your baby is really huge!"

That entire human was IN MY BODY and yes, he left a trail of damage. (I love him)

My point is, most of my issues were fixed within 8 physical therapy visits. EIGHT. Miracle.

Pelvic floor: My pelvic floor muscles were so fucked over after baby #1, which I think can link with SPD, that I couldn't feel that I couldn't exercise them. This caused me a lot of issues.

So the PT hooked me up to a machine that let me see when I actually was or was not stimulating those muscles and then I was eventually strong enough to be able to do kegels and a bunch of other things. It was miraculous. I should find that woman and send her flowers as I am grateful for her help literally every time I sneeze or cough or walk up stairs (because I don't pee or have severe pain when I do those things.)

If you don't have access to physical therapy, then you might look up the SPD exercise of squeezing a can between your knees, which was my favorite. The Yoga pose bridge (with can between your knees) was also great.

As well as doing anything to gently strengthen your thighs, hips and core. Gentle yoga will help a lot, and probably not make anything worse, and well as squats and leg lifts.

Everything is all wibbly wobbly and timey wimey (wait that's the tardis) and a safe bet is slowly making things from your knees to your belly button stronger.

The safest bet is to have an actual professional diagnose what's happening. If you are really out of alignment, the muscle strengthening isn't going to help, and if your muscles are off balance (like when my pelvic floor muscles were so weak) strengthening around it can exascerbate the imbalance and increase back pain.

I really hate taking care of myself and doing maintenance but a lot of this is fixable with just a couple visits.

So please don't suffer another year without checking in with a professional. Because you deserve to have answers and live pain free. ❤️❤️❤️ Please feel free to comment/chat if you have questions.

[minetteskvareninova]

hi!! i love your blog, i spent a hell of a lot of time just reading your posts, and you're hilarious. i would like to hear your indepth thoughts about selim? (both historical and mc). he's my fave and i'm weirdly protective of him cause of the way he's villanized lol

Thank you so much! I absolutely love hearing that my posts made someone laugh!

I am afraid I don't remember the details of show!Selim's characterization enough to go as in depth into his character as you would probably want me to. Sorry if this post is going to be overly general! I am currently in the process of rewatching this show, so it's possible I will change my mind or at least amend my opinion on some things. I am also not the meta guy in this fandom, and I usually don't write super long, deep posts (at least about MC/MCK). With that said, I will try to give as much of my thoughts on Selim II as possible.

Historical Selim was in general an interesting figure, because of how unimpressive he was - not at all like his extremely competent (whatever else you might think about him) father, but also in comparison to the Caligula that some portray him as. Yes, he was an alcoholic, hedonist and not interested in ruling once he became a sultan (as a young prince, he allegedly wasn't as apathetic towards his duties). At the same time, he was a relatively nice guy, at least by the standards of the Ottoman dynasty.

My biggest problem with the show!Selim from the historical perspective is that he's too much of an asshole? Not that hating Bayezit and plotting against him is out of character, but the rest of his characterization should be softened considerably. Also, again, he wasn't known for drinking in his youth, and it's possible he started as a way of dealing with the trauma of his brothers dying - but that's more of my headcannon. Overall, historical sources point to a more complicated person that changed over time, where the show... Doesn't really.

I think the "nice and personable guy" characterization would go a long way to bridge the gap between him and his brothers - which is important, because Bayezit and Mustafa are portrayed as not just better future rulers (which, fair, especially with Mustafa), but more importantly better people. Compared to them, Selim has very little redeeming qualities, which creates a disparity between them that just... Feels unfair. It veers into unfortunate implications territory when you consider one of Selim's failings in the show is his insufficient bravery and martial prowess, and that he's the one whose wife has the most influence over him (although to be fair, Mihrunissa is also politically active, and overall the sheer number of women interested in politics in the show muddies the waters somewhat). @hurrcmhaseki is even more passionate about this aspect of the show than me.

My overall feelings on his portrayal in the show are negative, but I don't hate everything about it. The show at least tries to make Selim somewhat sympathetic at times, especially with his relationship to siblings that aren't Bayezit, and also his romance with Nurbanu, which... Well, I don't want to say is completely devoid of toxicity, but compared to Süleyman and Hürrem feels much healthier and more equal. I don't like Nurbanu as a character either, but I do love them together most of the time!

I will say this - I have seen worse, MUCH worse. The fact that show!Selim is still somewhat bearable is a testament to how good the writing in season 4 is: even when the writers don't like a character, they would never resort to making them completely one-dimensional.

[cockslutpadalecki]

Sweet But Psycho

Summary: Y/N despises the man who broke up her parents marriage, but when her new stepfather stops vying for her approval, and an accidental encounter makes her see him in a different light, she begins to make his life hell in a completely different way.

Characters: Stepdad!Bucky x Stepdaughter!Reader

Words: 1769.

Warnings: stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, age gap (reader is 18+), daddy kink, voyeurism.

A/N: A rewrite of a very old fic that I wrote while in another fandom. Yes, I am a slut for the stepanything trope. And no, I’m not ashamed. Betas: @sweeterthanthis and @nasabeck, but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Masterlists can be found in my pinned post. Subscribe to Patreon and get access to fics, just like this one, two weeks before Tumblr for as little as $3.

With one magnificent thrust, he slides inside you, filling you right up to the hilt. You groan under your breath, shifting your hips back and forth in time to meet his slamming in the opposite direction. The tips of his fingers dig into your skin—just hard enough to bruise as he uses the grip to control his thrusts, pounding into you desperately from behind.

“Fuck. Harder,” you order, the words hissing through your teeth. His rhythm picks up instantly, and your eyes flutter closed at the increase in speed, feeling the tip of his cock brush your cervix. 

While the rest of the house is silent, the sound coming from behind you— that wet slap of skin on skin, echoes profanely off the walls, until a key shifting in lock of the front door makes your eyes spring open. His hips begin to stutter to a halt as you snap your head around to glare at him. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop." 

He looks like he’s seen a ghost. "But your Dad—”

You watch his eyes drift over your head to the corner of the room, and you try to stifle the small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

Right on time.

“Keep going,” you command, before turning back to lock eyes with the man that stands in the doorway. If your lover was put off by the sudden appearance of someone else, he didn’t show it, his thrusts quickly building back up to a scintillating rhythm. “Hi Daddy.” 

You take a moment to marvel at his features, even though you’d recently come to memorise them— full pink lips framed by perfectly sculpted stubble that you spent too many nights wishing you could shove between your thighs. The kind of sharp and strong jawline that you ached to bruise and marr with your teeth, and a pair of lust-blown icy cerulean eyes so irrevocably enticing you find you can’t tear your gaze away. 

Your lips finally manipulate into a satisfied smirk, little whimpers falling from between them with every deep thrust. The man slowly edges into the room, unable to take his eyes off you. He comes to stand in front of you, leaning against the wall behind him as your eyes fall to the rapid swelling in his slacks, your bottom lip captured between your teeth, aching to feel his cock swell inside you instead.

“Are you jealous?” you cajole breathlessly.

“Yes,” the man at the wall manages to choke, hands curled up into tight fists, eyes glazing over. With his lips slightly parted, he breathes out deeply as the guy behind you is completely over his stage fright, fucking into you like there’s no tomorrow. 

This is just the reaction you were hoping to get. And now you’ve got James exactly where you want him.

-

James “Bucky” Barnes married your mom three years ago, and you despised the sight of him. He tried so hard to bridge the gap between you, and at every opportunity, you pushed him away. He didn’t deserve to be here— in your house, in your mom’s bed after your parents had only split six months earlier. In your eyes, they were both to blame for your father walking out, and you weren’t going to let them forget their mistakes in a hurry. 

You worshipped the ground your father walked on, and to have your mother disrespect him in the worst way meant she had disrespected you too. 

As soon as James moved in you made his life hell, up until you turned eighteen, and then everything changed. He stopped trying to gain your approval. He gave up on attempting to be your friend, and deep down it frustrated you. You secretly liked the attention he gave you, even if you hadn’t reciprocated it. 

A year passed in contempt. It wasn’t until summer break, while you were home from college, that your rancor amalgamated into a potent mixture of hating the sight of him swaggering through the home you still didn’t consider his, and wanting to ride him into the middle of next week.

It was one am when you quietly slipped through the front door after spending the night at a party, the sleepy silence violently shattered by his coarse cacophony of grunts and moans. It clung to you like a mist as you tiptoed upstairs, and followed you right into your bedroom— igniting something so raw inside you that you ended up coming just as he hit his own peak. 

The following night, innocuous dreams began shape shifting into depraved ones— consisting of James subduing you with a pillow as he fucked you while your mom, entirely unaware, slept next door. Soon they became a regular occurrence, the excitement of going to sleep similar to the nights you spent studying, and the sight of your bed never looked so inviting. 

After that, you began to see him in a different light, now paying him the attention he had previously wasted on you. You found yourself teasing him— parading around the house in nothing but a small towel after a shower, leaving your door open when you’d change, and once, when your mom was away for the evening, you made sure to enunciate your heady cries just enough as you came, knowing full well he’d be able to hear you through the wall.

Your mom was thrilled you were finally starting to get along, but she was completely oblivious to the sexual tension that was building between you with every day that passed. You wanted him— you needed him, but he wouldn’t have it. He rejected you once, sending you into an almost murderous rage, and you refused to allow him to humiliate you like that again, but that didn’t stop you. You were going to get James to fuck you one way or another. Even if he had to watch another man do it first. 

-

You don’t even know the name of the guy kneeling behind you, and you don’t care. After striking up a flirtatious rapport with him at a party, you invited him home with the sole intention of coming just as James arrived back from the bar he’d been recently frequenting. With your mom out with friends, this was the perfect opportunity to put your plan into action.

“Oh god, you’re so deep,” you simper, your stare locked firmly on James, wishing your words were aimed at him to praise, not to make him envious. Watching the delectable way his tongue sweeps across his bottom lip, you direct your question straight at him. “You like watching me get fucked, Daddy?”

He nods silently, the anguish on his face clear for you to see. Continuing to whine, you make sure to keep eye contact with him as your body shunts forward involuntarily with every deep thrust. The guy’s hand snakes up to your shoulders, forcing you backwards, and you hiss through your teeth at the change in sensation. 

“Yes, shit, right there.” 

You watch intensely as James stands transfixed— entirely mesmerised by the scene unfolding in front of him. Arching your spine, you push yourself further back onto the guy’s dick, feeling your core begin to flutter with the onset of release. 

“Fuck!” you cry, throwing your head backwards. As your gaze finds your stepfather’s once again, you manage to catch, at the edge of your periphery, the way he fidgets with his hands, balling them into fists and releasing them, you know he’s aching to put his hands to good use.

“You wanna touch yourself over me, Daddy?”

“Yes.” His voice is so deep, you almost feel it vibrating against your clit, just as a well angled thrust has your body almost shuddering to its end.

“Want me to come for you?” you mewl, the sweetness in your tone a complete antithesis to the words that just tumbled from your lips. 

“Yes,” he growls, inching closer to you.

“Can I call your name?”

He swallows deeply, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs beneath his bronzed skin as he nods, trying to keep his composure. You slip a hand down between your thighs and begin stroking at your clit, quickly matching the rhythm of the thrusts pounding into your pussy.

“I’m gonna come so hard for you, Daddy, fuck, fuck, James!” Your screams echo around the room, and try as you might to keep your eyes fixed on the man in front of you, the sheer heft of your orgasm forces them shut. It takes wave after wave of euphoria until you find the strength to open them again, and when you do, the darkness that transforms the cerulean in James’ eyes to an inky navy is almost incapacitating. 

You’ve barely stopped trembling from your high as he steps forward, suddenly gaining the confidence to push the other man away from you. 

“What the fuck dude?” the guy exclaims, flashing you a disgusted look.You just shrug at him with a playful smirk, “I haven’t even finished!”

“Get the fuck outta here before I get her to bite your fuckin’ dick off,” James scowls, leaning down, and scoops up the guy’s pants to throw at him. He hurries to scramble them back up his legs and rushes from the room.

“Your family is fucked up!” he shouts as James strides after him and you hear the door slam shut in the distance. 

Slumping back against the couch, you let out a delighted hum, pussy throbbing delightfully from your climax. The sight of James rounding the sofa pulls your attention towards him, his lips pulled tight into a frown, and his hands balled into fists at his sides. 

You scowl up at him, expecting a different reaction from the one you’re getting. He strides in front of you, and tentatively you spread your legs, watching in awe as James’ eyes widen at the sight of your cunt.

“Are you mad?” you press, shoving your hand between the apex of your thighs. He drags his bottom lip through his teeth, giving you a curt nod, as the tips of your fingers begin circling your clit. “Don’t be mad. It’s your turn to have a taste now, Daddy.”

He remains glued to the spot, unable to tear his gaze from your pussy as you dip your fingers through your folds, soaking them in slick. 

Realising he’s not going to make the first move, you slide slowly off the couch, and drop to your knees in front of him, hands brushing up his thighs teasingly, almost waiting for him to reject you yet again.

But this time, he doesn’t. 

***

Marvel: @adreamemporium @andreasworlsboring101 @blancatobarxoxo @buckys-henley @clemanime @cake-writes @chamberofsloths @caringparker @caspleasesavemyass @doctor-hp-mcu @deanwinchesterswitch @fanngirl19 @fandom-princess-forevermore @joseyrw @la-cey @negans-wife @p--ink @smokeandnailz @superblychaoticdragon

Forever: @anaelsbrunette​ @akumune​ @amandamdiehl​ @buttercandy16​ @crashdevlin​ @castiel-has-bees​ @daughterofthenight117​ @donnaintx @dandywinchesterbras​ @dumbbitchenergy17​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @demonxbloodrunsthroughtheseveins @foxyjwls007​ @hurricanerin​ @hoewkeye​ @heyyouwiththeassbutt​ @ilovefanfic86​ @itsjustfics​ @itsthedoctah10​ @imyournewfairygodmother​ @imcastiel-youassbutt​ @jewelswrites-ish​ @jenmisheels-bi-kid​ @letsby​ @letsdisneythings​ @multi-fandom-fanfiction​ @maddiepants​ @mogaruke​ @my-fav-imagines-17​ @nightsbite​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @pink1031​ @princessmisery666​ @petitgateau911​ @randomparanoid​ @ssworldofsw​ @sambucky8​ @sea040561​ @sillygoose6969​ @sweeterthanthis​ @softie-socks​ @warriorqueen1991​ @xoxabs88xox​ @zpandaqueen​ 

Tagging a few queens who might like this (huge apologies if not): @imanuglywombat​ @threeminutesoflife​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @the-iceni-bitch​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @caffiend-queen​

[taki118]

SuyaLight Master Post 2

I really like these two there’s not a lot of content for the fandom as a whole soooo her’s my submission as I get every moment of these two royals who literally share a braincell (and I love them for it) First up this is just on the manga if you are anime only its going to have stuff you havent seen yes even with what the anime covers (so read it) and there will be spoilers so beware. If you prefer Demon Monk/Cleric/Leo (which I don’t really get) I am sorry this isnt for you. Lets go! Part 1 is here

Suya shows up at meeting to talk about her nightmare after trying to get rid of her Twilight relents.

Suya needs a bathroom knowing Twilight has similar needs in that area to her she follows him to his.

Too prideful or embarrassed to just say she needs to pee she says something way worse and confusing. So she uses violence to get her way.

After doing what she needs she falls asleep leaving Twilight in pain.

I just find it funny he finds her fiendish

Suya doesn’t like it though, and to stop her kicks he’s willing to make some changes.

Which leads to the weapons downfall cause he’s such a pushover.

Suya used magic to make herself big and well Twilight is the most observant to catch on.

She decides to carry them and its kinda cute.

Again Twilight tries to see the best in Suya believing she was just as lonely as him growing up (which is later proven true) so he lets her join a schools trip to the demon castle to join in fun she missed out on.

But the chapter makes his belief had to justify. 

Though He was wrong in the end she just wanted to play and have nap time, she wasnt as malicious as the other demons feared. Still its a misunderstanding between the two.

They get the princess to act like a proper hostage and its too much for Twilights conscious to bear.

Twilight recognizes that they probably caused more problems for themselves in the long run meanwhile Suya starts a real arc for her, countering the notions she’d be taught about Demons with her experiences and wondering just why they hate each other?

So Suya is trying to escape and no one can stop her so Twilight lays a trap.

No one thinks it’d work but obviously he gets her just a little better than most.

After getting her to tell them the reason for her escape (being she wants to buy something) they try to dissuade her before she says this.

It catches them off guard especially Twilight who’s weak to compliments. 

After following Suya around the human town all day and dealing with her nonsense they win tickets to a fireworks show where Twilight lays some lore on us. 

He reveals a bit why he does what he does and I do think Suya is taking it all to heart. 

They think she wants to leave but instead she shows what she would prefer, offering them alternate designs to the less than demon friendly ones on display. This also shows what her long term goals likely are, to bridge the gap between humans and demons. 

But its undercut by Suya falling asleep on the way back and Twilight having to carry her with her new vibrating pillow in high.

Suya shows up unexpectedly in his room. 

Suya’s logic is unflappable. 

Twilight is so scared though its adorable.

Suya wants to know what will happen at a slumber party and Twilight does his best to explain to the best of his knowledge. He’s so cute in this chapter.

(part of me thinks Suya might be Asexual or Aromantic but thats another post) 

Anyway after nearly bombing the room cause she doesnt want to think of the hero Suya has Twilight look more into the party but mostly ignores him.

Suya proves that she does actually pay attention and wants to know more about Twilight.

He tries to dodge and it leads to his downfall.

Suya asks an interesting question that leads to pain for Twilight.

At the actual party Suya recalls Twilights explanation.

It’s Halloween and Suya is shown to be pretty face blind though she mostly recognizes them.

Twilight is pretty numb to Suya’s nonsense, but this prompts them to start their own tournament. 

It blows up in his face when Suya joins.

However Twilight has learnt how to deal with Suya pretty well. 

He offers her a special item for the hero knowing she’d immediately fall asleep. Thus avoiding being stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

 This still takes place during the anime though there’s segments it didnt adapt.

[oldguardhc]

Old Guard hc #41

Prompt number: 5 - “Unacceptable, try again”

Fandom: The Old Guard

Rating: PG-13

Warnings/Tags: joe x nicky, fluff

Nile shakes her head, “Unacceptable, try again.”

“Nile-,” Joe starts with a groan, mentally, physically and spiritually exhausted. “We’ve been practicing for six hours, I’m starving.”

It’s four in the afternoon and the only thing they’ve eaten all day was the two slices of toast in the morning and water. If Joe didn’t eat something soon, he’s going to crumble into skin and bones. Then they really are going to lose the competition.

Suddenly, Nile’s hands are fisted in his shirt, her face inches away from his. “Nicky and Andy have probably already mastered the Renegade and are working on the Toosie Slide. We’re still on Blinding Lights and need to do the Vibe after,” she says, a hint of hysteria creeping in at the end. Joe swallows and slowly nods, trying his best to subtly pull away from her. Nile looks like she’s out for blood and Joe really doesn’t want it to be his. Nile tightens her grip on his shirt, “I am not getting on a horse, Joe.”

He doesn’t tell her that one day, she’s going to have to get over her ridiculous fear of horses, because even though the world is moving towards modernity at a faster rate than the previous centuries, there are still parts of the world that demanded a more discrete mode of transportation.

He does have some sense of self-preservation after all. No matter how small and finicky it seemed to be at times.

He pats the hands currently holding him, giving her his most convincing smile, the one that sometimes fools Andy. “We’ll win.” Probably. It’s 50-50 at the moment: they either win or lose. “However, if I don’t eat something in the next twenty minutes, I’m going to pass out and you will be riding a horse whether you like it or not.” There’s a couple of seconds of intense scrutiny, where Nile is trying to figure out if he’s bullshitting her or not. He’s not. He’s really, really not. His rumbling stomach backs him up and Nile releases his shirt with an apologetic pat that Joe waves off. It won’t be the last time Nile will want to strangle him.

Andy and Nicky are both in the kitchen when they walk in, with what smells like Japanese Curry cooking on the stove. Awesome. It’s been a while since Joe ate this type of curry, a little over eight months ago, if he remembers correctly, when they were in Los Angeles for that job at the ports.

Joe immediately makes a beeline for Nicky, wrapping his arms around his husband’s waist and resting his head on his shoulder. “Smells good,” he comments, taking another deep breath to inhale the sweet spices.

“Me or the curry?” Nicky asks, continuing to stir the pot.

Joe presses a quick kiss to Nicky’s neck. “Both,” he says and is rewarded with a tiny smile.

Dinner’s served five minutes later, Nicky ladling generous portions onto each plate and Joe placing it on the table. It’s a quiet dinner. Andy and Nile spend the entire time staring each other down, taking aggressive bites of curry and noisy sips from their glasses. Across from Nicky, Joe has tangled their feet together, bumping ankles every time they move.

Overall, it’s a good dinner.

After, when Andy and Nile are occupied cleaning up, Joe nudges Nicky’s foot with his. Nicky raises a questioning eyebrow, cocking his head a little to the side. After centuries together, Joe really shouldn’t find that small act cute. This time, Nicky nudges his foot and right, he started this. Joe makes sure that Andy and Nile are still busy in the kitchen before motioning to the front door with a nod.

Nicky huffs, it’s a small sound, impossibly soft yet full of amusement, and stands up to walk outside, Joe right on his heels. As soon as they’re outside, the front door firmly closed behind them, Nicky pushes him up against the side of the house. Alright, a couple of things might have been lost in translation, Joe thinks as Nicky’s hand creeps under his shirt. He’s unsurprisingly okay with this.

“You couldn’t have waited until nighttime?” Nicky asks, lips a breath’s away from Joe’s. By the way he’s currently groping Joe, he doesn’t seem too upset about their current predicament.

Joe can’t help looking down at Nicky’s lips, they’re right there. All he has to do is lean in and then he’ll be-no. That’s not what they’re here for. At least, not yet. “I need you to let us win,” Joe rushes out, before he completely forgets why he even asked Nicky to come out here in the first place.

“Huh?” Joe drags his attention away from Nicky’s lips to meet his husband’s eyes, barely suppressing a shiver at the heat he finds behind those blue eyes.

“Lose,” Joe eventually says, nodding as he remembers that yes, they need to lose. “I don’t think we should push Nile on this one.” In the past few months since joining their team, Nile has never said no to any of the training they’ve thrown at her. Flying planes, jump starting cars, sword fighting, all things she has willingly subjected herself to despite some of their more unconventional training methods. “She’s really terrified of horses.”

Nicky hums, leans forward to brush their noses together. “And what will I get?”

“The satisfaction of helping your teammate and husband?” It’s taking all of Joe’s willpower not to bridge the gap between their lips. He can practically taste Nicky already. He just knows that if they start, he’s not going to be able to think about anything other than Nicky for awhile. “Me?” Joe adds when Nicky remains silent.

“I already have you,” Nicky says and to prove his point, he moves both hands down to cup Joe’s ass. Oh fuck. Joe’s hand fly up to Nicky’s waist, fingers twisting in the material there, pulling the fabric taught around his shoulders.

Fuck, he didn’t think that one through.

“Joe,” Nicky says, “Eyes up here.” His lips are quirked up at the corners and Joe wants to groan. Why are there so many places he wants to kiss? “My lips are not my eyes.”

Smug, smug bastard.

Devastatingly pretty, though.

“Is that all you have to offer?” Nicky asks once Joe has managed to meet Nicky’s eyes.

“What do you want?”

Joe really hopes its sex.

“I want,” Nicky starts, squeezing Joe’s ass and leaning in to press soft, open-mouthed kisses all along his jaw. When he reaches Joe’s ear, he pauses.

Joe can definitely get behind this want.

“I want,” Nicky starts again, this time in a whisper. Joe shivers, sucks in a sharp breath, ready to agree to whatever Nicky is going to say next. “I want you to fix the heater.”

Joe nods, because yes, he can definitely—wait, what? Joe opens his eyes, and when did he close them? “You want me to what?”

Nicky leans back, looking too fucking pleased with himself. Smug bastard. “I want you to fix the heater,” he says, slower this time and in a completely normal voice.

“But-I-what?” Joe definitely missed something. Nicky’s hands move from his ass to cradle his face. Which, no! Go back!

From the way Nicky chuckles, he figures he says the last part out loud. Joe doesn’t care, this man was literally there in Brussels and nothing could be more embarrassing than that. “I am freezing at night. I want you to fix the heater.” The heater. Right, the heater. The heater that’s in the crawl space. Fuck, the crawl space.

“I don’t want to go in the crawl space,” Joe whines. He hates crawl spaces. It’s always disgusting down there, home to a billion spiders and rats. If he wanted to be in that kind of environment, he would have gone to Paris.

“Andy is going to do something to me for purposely losing. I think the crawl space is a very generous offer.” 

He has a point.

Dammit.

Nicky smiles, already knowing that Joe is going to take his offer. “You can do it tomorrow,” he says, all sweet, like it matters what time of day it is when you’re in the crawl space. It’s dark in the morning and it’s dark at night.

“How kind of you,” Joe responds sarcastically. Then, remembering his hands are still in Nicky’s shirt and their deal was made and sealed, asks, “Want to make-out now?”

Even though Joe will have to put on the awful body suit and go down to the crawl space tomorrow, he counts this one as a win and it has everything to do with the way Nicky pushes him up against the house.

[ammocharis]

Writing Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @cleverblackcat and @tejaswrites!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

12 as of now, though some of them are parts of the same story and I might weave them all in a single work one day, but I decided to split them due to time skips and changes in tone. I don’t know when I’ll be able to bridge all the gaps but I still wanted to share what I wrote, so I ended up creating a series with a couple of installments.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

140 699 words

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Watch the Skies - 125 kudos

Vatna of Two Falcon Hold as a companion in Dragon Age - 8 kudos

Mirrors and Braids ex aequo Rattle the bars if you like, but I chose to enter this cage - 7 kudos

Aval'var, it means - our journey ex aequo Avvar History Reconstruction - 5 kudos

4. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes, I do respond to almost every comment and I really appreciate receiving them. When someone comments on certain aspects of the story, I usually try to explain some of my choices, like why I decided for that character to react in such a way, why I deviated from the canonical storyline, or why I included those lore tidbits. It allows me to share my perspective, my reasons for writing the story in the first place.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Well, I have started writing an alternative storyline for my Avvar Inquisitor, Vatna, in which she becomes a part of the Jaws of Hakkon, which ought to be super angsty, but it has no ending yet.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Do limericks count? They’re fun but each is five verses long.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I had, in fact, the first fic that I wrote was a crossover between Dragon Age and Puella Magi - it’s just not published on AO3 and probably never will. It's pretty crazy, that’s for sure, given how wildly different those two pieces of media are, though strangely, I found a few of thematic parallels that compelled me to explore them for a while.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, and I hope I’ll be spared from it. My writing is not perfect by any means, and I do welcome constructive criticism and corrections, but I probably wouldn’t deal well with hate comments. Mustering motivation to write fics is hard enough as it is.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

No, not really. I have written some scenes that focused on sexual interactions, but they weren’t quite smutty, if that makes sense, as the POV character is a sex-indifferent asexual.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I write in English, even though it isn’t my native tongue, so I could probably translate my own fics if I wanted, but I didn’t feel like it so far. If someone approached me with an offer to translate my fic into a language I don’t speak, I’m not sure what my reaction would be, as I’d like to know how they present my characters in the translated version. Translation is a tricky craft, and there are many ways to express a single concept. Sometimes, a translated work has a completely different tone from the original.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah, I wrote Fool's Gold with Toshi Nama as a part of Discord server collaboration, in which her Warden, Farin Brosca, and my Inquisitor, Vatna Einarsdotten, meet up to investigate a red lyrium smuggling operation in the Frostback Mountains. It was a fun challenge!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I’m not sure, I don’t focus on shipping that much.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I probably won’t get back to finish my unpublished crossover xD But I enjoyed thinking about the possibilities, and I did have the general storyline thought out, but I don’t think I could finish it. For one, it would take a lot of time and motivation that I don’t have, and if I ought to pick a project I would like to see till the end, it’s the story of my Avvar girl.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I’ve been told my worldbuilding is well-thought out. I do have the benefit of writing fanfiction, so there’s no need to built a world from ground up, but I do expand upon what’s presented in the original work, and I greatly enjoy it. I wonder a lot about the unexplored details, like when I’m writing about the Avvar, I imagine what kind of holidays they could celebrate, what cultural taboos they might observe, what is their main source of food, how their families could be structured, little things like that, which, hopefully, create a compelling picture together.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

My pacing is probably not that great, when I think about what I’d like to write, I don’t really ensure that each story beat is nicely spaced out, that there are no sudden accelerations or decelarations of plot. I do have a general plotline in my head, for the most part, but when it comes to writing, I focus on individual chapters. 

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think it has its time and place, but I believe it should be done sparingly. I wouldn’t be excited to read a super long dialogue in a language different from the one that the work is written in, and I won’t include such things in my fic. It disrupts the flow and doesn’t benefit the story very much, in my opinion. If it’s necessary for the plot or characterization to show that someone speaks in another language, I think it’s enough to use a foreign word or a phrase from time to time, hint at its meaning through context, and describe how the communication barrier affects the characters.

My main character, Vatna, does alternate between her native tongue (Avvar, which is I represent as Icelandic/Old Norse) and a second language (Common Tongue, which for all my intents and purposes is equivalent to English) so I do include some lines in a different language, but I keep them short. Usually, it’s just a single word whose meaning can be easily inferred from the surrounding text. More often than not, I signify the language barrier through other means. Sometimes, Vatna slips into her native tongue for a longer moment, and she may even have conversations with her fellow Avvar, but the actual dialogue remains in English (i.e. Common) - instead, I use the narration to show that the language barrier is ever present, like describing the reaction of accompanying characters.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Dragon Age

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

My favourite is Mirrors and Braids, a part of the Saga of the Avvar-Daughter series, which focuses on Vatna’s reaction to the loss of her arm. Though it’s not really a “fun” story by any means, I am quite fond of it. It was somewhat cathartic to write.

Tag list under the cut

@samuraisaucefrites @dreadfutures @crackinglamb

[nightswithkookmin]

Imo there is enough to support the possibility of a romantic relationship, but you are writing full on narratives with impossible specificity. You know what confirmation bias is but some young impressionable people dont yet . Forgive me but misleading with ' alt facts' can hurt someone even if you dont mean it. I think you are a good person not looking to hurt anyone. But the way you postulate without any evidence makes your actions a little but like those of a charlatan. Peace and kindness

All these kind words you spew...

It feels more like an advice than a question so I'm not sure how to respond to it...

Let me just say thank you? I never quite understood what the brouhaha was about with my posts but after talking to a few people, 'on the other side' lol and reading your Ask, I think I'm starting to get a better sense of what the problem is.

Something about young impressionable minds or people?

Let the council of elders know, those are not my audience please. I cater to a much more mature audience- at least so far. The people that I interact with and engage with on my posts on and off Tumblr are very mature and not impressionable at all.

They are People with brains who can tell an opinion from fact and can engage in deep complex controversial conversations without throwing up, shedding tears or cussing through to the heavens.

If there are 'impressionable people' reading my blogs- they do so at their own risk. If you know any such people or they run to you with my theories kindly point out to them it's just theory because that's what my opinions are.

I think the best thing you can do is to advice such people to grow up if they are going to sit at the adult table or not read my posts at all. I think you need to learn to hold the right people accountable for their actions.

The best I can do in this case- to hold myself accountable, is to put up a disclaimer on my posts to let people know what it is that they are reading- something I do quite often. But I will make conscious efforts to put up those disclaimers each time henceforth. Thank you.

That I write full on narratives with impossible specificity:

Is this Latin for, 'you write fiction get the fuck outta here?' Chilee.

I don't even know what you mean by this exactly so I may not be able to respond to it to your satisfaction. Bare with me.

So what if I write fiction? What is wrong with writing fiction? Do you hate fiction writers? I don't get what the hate is with these complaints honestly. Do you want me to put up a disclaimer stating my blogs are fiction? Would that help? I would glady do it.

If it helps you sleep at night think of my blogs as fiction- a rose by any other name. I've been keeping up with Shakespeare. Lol.

I don't think it's that deep. Listen, you gotta understand that just because we both 'ship' Jikook don't mean we are on the same team...

Most alt shippers I know and who read my posts and engage with it are not even Army to begin with, for your information. They could care less about these shipping politics of yours. Have you thought about that?

Some simply ship JK and JM and support them because they believe they are members of the LGBTQ plus community not because they are part of BTS.

There are different communities out there who are also into Jikook- for very different reasons. You gotta respect that.

To you, Jikook is just a ship within BTS that may or may not be real, but to some of us they have very much outgrown that description...

They are a brand of their own, a power couple and members of the LGBTQ plus community- Gay Icons extraordinaire. I think we take very different stock in Jikook. So stop trying to fit us all into one box.

It's disrespectful to try and control the way that people perceive their OTP and support them. Jikook don't just belong to Army Jokers, they belong to different communities outside Army. Are you aware of that?

And please don't confuse the intersect. I am an alt-shipper yes but I just so happen to be an Army too. But if I wasn't an Army, I'd still pretty much 'ship' and support Jikook- make no mistake. There are quite a few of us running around these streets, you know?

So you have every right to want to gatekeep your Army Jikook- but you have to do that without infringing on other rights of other 'Jikook communities.'

Throughout my blogs I have tried to shed light on what altshipping is because I thought it would help bridge the gap but clearly that hasn't worked. Sigh.

Misleading alt facts

Do you not know what it means or you are just being ironic?👀

Why is it ok for you to believe and proclaim that JK and BigHit lied about JK dating the Tattoo artist but it's not ok for me to believe JK is telling the truth when he says he didn't date her and that BigHit saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone- hence why they didn't press charges against the shop for breach of privacy like they had said they were going to do. Instead, they had asked the shop to keep calm till the scandal died down on it's own?

You start your piece off with the whole, 'there is enough evidence to support a romantic relationship' between JK and the tattoo shop lady- I assume.

For context, this Ask by this anon is in response to my recent post/ answer on the tattoo girl scandal where the topic of discussion was on BigHit, JK and the tattoo artist and not Jikook perse.

A statement that is in direct conflict with JK's statement, BigHit's and the lady in questions, all denying that there was a romantic relationship between her and Jungkook- and somehow I am misleading who- who now with my theory??? Chileee.

Do you see the problem here? Double standards- the hallmark of bigotry. Lmho. You are literally doing the very thing you are accusing me of. Making confident assertions and claiming you know more about JK and the Lady's relationship and even have 'enough evidence' contrary to BigHit, JK and the Tattoo artist's statements denying the rumors- at least when I theorize I admit I'm being delusional. What's your excuse? When you say charlatan are you referring to yourself? You must be. Lmho.

Now I'm confident in my comprehension skills and intelligent enough to know when you make an assertion like this- it is your opinion and you are just stating your opinion. If you are not then honey you'd be opening yourself up to some serious litigation... goodluck I guess. Lol.

You are allowed to form an opinion about a topic. There is nothing wrong with that. If to you, JK and this person dated that is fine. I am not going to cyber bully you, stalk you, throw slurs at you, harrass you, dox you, slid into people's Dms to spread hate and lies about you just because I don't agree with your opinion. And for the record, I don't agree with your opinion. Hehehehe.

I have stated my opinion on the matter. I said I think JK and this person did hang out, go on dates but that there was no romantic sexual relationship between them because I believe that would have had much serious consequences and effects on Jikooks dynamics no matter how much they tried to keep a cool facade. Whoever felt cheated on would have acted more insecure than usual post the incident- how does this make me a charlatan? Are you saying it's wrong it have an opinion? Chileee.

Now if you can produce 'evidence' of them having sex or even kissing, then I will gladly change my mind on the topic and not sweat it.

Jikook have done way worse questionable things in 7 good years and people still don't believe they are dating. Jk hangs out with a female friend a few times in less than a month and suddenly he is dating her? Lmho.

You don't need me to tell you people are more eager to accept a heterosexual relationship than wrap their heads around the fact that two male idols are gay and in a gay relationship with eachother. Don't you just love it when homophobia meets heteronormativity and stinks? I do. Lol.

I mean this is a fandom that thinks JK is 'too touchy' and doesn't respect his boundaries- they practically swear JK is cheating on Jimin with every member any time he hugs, kisses, wings at within the group. You think they will be 'objective' about JK hanging out with a girl? Even if it happened once?

You said something about confirmation bias.... I will not touch it. Lmho.

This is not the first time JK has gone on a date with a girl. This is not the first time he has 'dated a girl', he has hand girls on his laps or whatever- what is a back hug? I think people need to stop defining Jikook's lives by their own standards. If a backhug is intimate to you. Thats you. If you think a grown ass man cannot hang out with a female friend, that's equally you.

You think if he thought it was inappropriate and risky he would do it 'in public?' Get with Kpop Idol dating culture. Lmho.

Do you know the lengths they go through to keep their relationships a secret? Especially non celebrity girlfriends? Chen from EXO got married and where is his wife? They keep their flings tighter than Trump keeps his toupee on his head. Lol.

They hide them not out of shame but out of love and the need to protect their loved ones. These idols have family members who have their restaurants and businesses shut down because they want to keep their privacy.

You think JungKook's girlfriend would- on her own, issue a statement regarding a scandal that Jungkook's agency had specifically directed her and her shop to keep quiet about and lay low till it blew away on its own? And later, started liking couple posts about her and JK? If they were dating, certainly JK would have dumped her after that move. In my opinion.

You think JK would let his fandom drag the person he is in a relationship with to the extent she loses her Job- when in his Itaewon gay pub scandal BigHit referred to the issue as his private affair immediately it happened? They could have kept the same energy with her, no?

They handled his gay pub scandal much better, with much respect and consideration for his privacy- if he dated her sorry but she mustn't have meant much to him at all. And if I were her I would have dumped him for that shit and not stay liking couple posts about us. Damn- But do you.

Taehyung was in a scandal with a girl too- did you see her liking posts and shit and going out of her way to do the most? Did you see how BigHit handled that scandal?

Nothing wrong if JK is 'dating' her or had 'dated' her and whatever person he decides he wants to be in a relationship with I will support him- that's why I support Jikook.

But your opinion is equally valid my guy. Just don't call me a charlatan for mine. You believe they dated, I believe they didn't- and to your impressionable young minds, I hope you are not selling them anything contrary to BigHit and JK's statement. That would be very irresponsible of you. Lol.

What else did you say?

Oh postulating without evidence...

Next time I write a theory based on my observations about Jikook, remind me to break off a piece of my brain and attach it to it- I guess that way people would finally understand when I say things like 'I think' 'in my opinion' 'I feel' 'I believe' that these are just my thoughts and opinions and not facts.

Let me leave you with this:

Peace and kindness. Namaste.

Signed,

GOLDY.

[lil-creatorwritings]

Summer of Smut Writing Challenge July 4: Evening Pleasures [Lancelot Kingsley]

Fandom: Ikemen revolution Pairing:  Lancelot Kingsley x Reader Word Count: 1,519 words Prompt: Banging on the beach Warning: Pure, unadulterated smut. There is zero plot. A/N: Part of @voltage-vixen ’s Summer of Smut Writing Challenge. You can check the original post for the rules and prompts if you’d like to join in as well! I'm trying to catch up with the prompts since I posted late, so bear with me! Though the end goal is to be able to write all 15 prompts, I'm trying to see if I can finish it on the 15th. So far, I'm enjoying writing these and I hope you all are having fun reading these as well. Special tag for @plumpblueberry cause it's her mans and she needs more Vitamin D.

---

The sound of laughter in the background made you smile as you looked out into the ocean, mindlessly tracing your finger over the sand. Things have been quite hectic around the Red Army headquarters ever since the war with the Magic Tower had ended. There was still much to do in the aftermath, such as keeping the peace and bridging the gap with the Black Army, which also resulted in additional work. You couldn't help but notice the exhaustion written on your friends' faces, especially with Lancelot. Being King meant that he was responsible for almost everything that went on and you worried that he was exhausting himself too much. You had thought about different ways on how you can help them until Edgar gave you the idea of arranging this weekend trip by the beach.

When you brought it up with him, you didn't expect that he would agree to it so easily. But here you all were, spending the last night having more fun with a small party. The past days have been full of adventure and new memories. Even though it was a short vacation, you were glad for the opportunity to give them a break, even for a little while.

You felt something graze your back, looking up to see Lancelot drape your shawl over your shoulders. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing much. I was just admiring the scenery."

He nodded. "It's a beautiful sight, just like you."

Tomorrow, all of them will be back to their normal routines, attending to their duties and obligations. Although you understand that it's simply a part of how things are, you couldn't help but feel a dull ache in your chest. You stood up and stepped into the waters, hoping that it could carry away your sadness. Forcing a smile, you turned to look back at him. "I'm going to miss this though. It was a lot of fun spending time with everyone like this."

He moved towards you, reaching out to cup your cheek. "Yes, I feel the same way. But I missed you the most."

"Me too." Leaning into his touch, you looked up into his blue eyes. "I know I can't do much, but as long as I can stay by your side, I'll do my best to support you."

Lancelot could only smile at your words. "That's more than enough for me."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, the two of you shared a sweet kiss. Before you could pull away, he tipped your chin up and nipped on your lower lip. You opened your mouth, whimpering as he pulled you to him and deepened the kiss. It had been far too long since he was this close to you, the need for him growing even more when his fingers caressed your side.

Your body trembled as a cold wave splashed up your legs. Breaking the kiss, you tugged your shawl closer around you and rubbed on your arm. "I think we should get out of the water first."

"Come with me."

Following along, he led you away from the lively cottage and down the shore until you spotted a secluded alcove by the far corner. It was quite cozy inside with enough space to lie down on the sand if you wanted to. He brought you back into his arms, nuzzling in the crook of your neck and resumed to shower you in kisses. You moaned softly when his hand slid up your chest, massaging your breast through you bikini top as you arched your back.

His touch sent a throb between your legs as you ran your fingers in his hair. "Lance..."

"Here, let me help you warm up." Sliding further down and in your bottoms, he teased your clit with his fingers, rubbing with light pressure. You heard him groan as he realized how wet you already were, sliding two digits inside you with ease. With your other hand holding on to his shirt, you ground your hips against his hand for more. He pushed a third one in, stretching you and thrusting them faster as you gasped wantonly into his ear.

You dug your nails into his shoulder, fighting the urge to give in to your release. "Lance, please... I want you inside me..."

By your command, he pulled his hand away and licked them clean. You felt the gush of your arousal as you watched him before he undressed you of your shirt, guiding you to a nearby rock. Leaning down, you placed your hands on a smooth portion. With a tug, your bottoms slipped down your legs as his hand caressed your inner thighs. Parting them further, you felt him rub his length along your slit before pushing in your waiting entrance. He grunted from your wet heat, your walls throbbing around him as he started to slowly thrust his hips.

Biting your lower lip, you tried to keep your voice down as he filled you with each push. Lancelot tilted your face towards him, kissing you briefly to stop you. "Don't do that. I want to hear how much you want me."

Pleasure spread through your body as he sped up, making you cry out when his fingers circled your aching clit. You rocked your hips in time as he pushed deeper, making you shudder when he rubbed against your spot. His mouth trailed a series of kisses up your back, his free hand cupping your breast and teasing your nipple.

"Lance...!" You moaned his name, your walls squeezing him tighter as you felt your body reaching its limit.

His voice was hoarse, hips thrusting harder and his fingers relentlessly rubbing your clit. "Come with me."

Everything seemed to fade when your orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as you cried out in bliss. Drawing out your pleasure longer, he kept you flush against him until it was too much, your spasms triggering his own release as he spilled his warmth inside you. The two of you struggled to catch your breath as he gently pulled out, placing a tender kiss in your shoulder before whispering his devotion for you. You turned around and gave him a kiss on the lips, answering him back.

Before the two of you left the cove, Lancelot pulled you in his arms again. Lifting the shirt you wore, he nipped and sucked on a spot above your breast to leave a hickey. He pulled away when he was done, your body shuddering over the memory as he traced his thumb over the mark. "I promise to make love to you before this fades. And when I do, I'll make another one in its place and promise you the same thing."

It was simple yet it filled you with much joy. You nodded, placing your hand over it. "Okay. I'll make sure you never forget."

"I don't intend to." He smiled, kissing you on the forehead. "But you're free to remind me whenever you wish."

Everyone was still there when you returned to the cottage. You could only assume what happened, seeing as Jonah was red-faced and giggling with Kyle about something while drinking. Edgar and Zero seemed pretty sober as they chatted normally, having a few cups of tea.

"Oh, you're back." Zero looked at the two of you. "Would you like--"

"Lancelot!" Out of nowhere, Kyle managed to launch himself at the man, draping an arm around his shoulder. "Where'd you go! I can't believe you would miss out on our party. We should have more fun before we go back to working day and night!"

You could only watch while Lancelot got dragged off by the merry doctor, giggling as he tried to sit him down. Edgar offered you a fresh cup of tea as you took a seat across them. "So where have the two of you been?"

"Just by the shore. We were just talking and admiring the view."

"It must have been quite a stimulating conversation if you were away for a while."

The implication in his tone almost made you choke on your tea. Zero nudged him with his elbow. "Edgar, don't pry into their personal affairs."

"Yes, of course, you're right." He nodded, hoping he didn't notice the blush creeping up your face. "Although I am curious, isn't that King Lancelot's shirt you're currently wearing?"

"It was cold so he gave it to me."

"Ah, I see. And your hair..."

"The wind messed it up as we were coming back."

"Really?" Zero tilted his head. "I didn't feel--"

"You know, I'm feeling quite tired, so I think I'll have Lance escort me back to the hotel." You put the empty cup down and shot Edgar a look. He only smiled at you, though you knew better than to give him more fuel to tease you with. As you left to rescue your lover from the two inebriated men, you heard Edgar chuckle while the other one asked him what was going on. Lancelot was more than happy to accompany you, leaving Jonah to discuss the intricacies of eating custard cakes with Kyle.

[ythmir-writes]

may I request soft + lucifer?

fandom: Obey Me!

feat: Lucifer

no warnings!

A/N: and thank you for requesting him! my first Obey Me fic is for my bestest boi, so i am v happy ﾟ*｡(･∀･)ﾟ*｡

Soft

Lucifer entered the study and was not surprised to find Kita poring over their mountain of notes, muttering something under their breath. From the way their forefinger was repeatedly going over a line, it seemed they were intent to memorize a certain passage before turning the page.

He closed the door and kept his gaze on them as they continued to mutter, closing their eyes as their fingers began tapping on the table to help with some rhythm or other. Twice, they blew out a breath in frustration. And then they nearly swore, grabbed the book in both hands and looked for all intents and purposes, as if they were scolding it for being utterly confusing and hard to remember.

Lucifer nodded to himself. This was good.

He was pleased to see that Kita was taking the RAD midterms very seriously and he took satisfaction in knowing that they had taken his warnings of torture and hellfire, should they fail, to heart. Everyone should take his warnings to heart; it would save him all the trouble.

But as Kita carried on, Lucifer found that he was somewhat displeased all the same.

Kita had not noticed Lucifer enter study, nor did they turn their head to where he stood, continuing only to stare at the book in front of them.

Lucifer had half a mind to call out to them. How long had it been since they started studying now? Perhaps it would be best for them to pause and take a break?

But he hesitated, remaining by the door with Kita’s name and the words he wanted to say only half-formed on his tongue. Because reaching out would mean distracting Kita from what he had told them to do. He disliked the idea of pulling them away from what looked like a good flow in their work, and consequently opening himself to the possibility that he would be used as an excuse to discontinue any studying.

Besides, did he not himself disliked the idea of being interrupted whenever he was busy? Did he not go to great pains to make sure none of his brothers would make a mess when he needed to concentrate?

And yet.

It would seem that Lucifer disliked the idea of remaining unnoticed more.

So what exactly was he hesitating for? Surely, it was only a matter of calling Kita’s attention now, wasn’t it?

Lucifer took a deep breath, slightly unnerved that his thoughts would wander about before he could make a decision – but before he could even call to Kita, they had startled, turned their head, and looked at him.

“Oh, Lucifer.” Kita said, putting down the book. “I didn’t notice you there.”

“Yes.” Lucifer said, tone even, biting down the words you didn’t as he collected himself and ignored how now he was certain he very much disliked what he had just experienced and heard. But there was no sense in letting Kita know, much less any sense in allowing his mind to drag the issue further.

“I happened to pass by and saw the lights were open. You’re hard at work.”

“Yeah.” Kita repressed a sigh. “I’m in a bit of a rut, though. Hell has extensive history and I am trying very hard to memorize these names but it’s all just…” They trailed off, made a face that was almost one of distaste.

Lucifer waited for them to continue, using the silence to bridge the gap between them. When Kita only angled their head at him, Lucifer shook his in understanding.

“It bored you, didn’t it?”

“Not exactly…”

Lucifer almost snorted. “Trying to lie to a Demon, now?”

“Okay, fine.” Kita raised their hands. “But I was not bored, you know, exactly. I just felt it was all very monotonous.”

Lucifer quirked a brow.

Kita continued at his prompting. “I had thought that Hell’s rulers would have had more experiences that involved war and killing. You know, backstabbing and drama and mayhem! Instead, Hell’s history has been nothing but boring procedure and inheritance and deciding if a cousin or two could rule some lower province!”

“We are Demons.” Lucifer said. “Not uncultured savages.”

“I didn’t say that and you know I don’t mean it that way.” Kita rolled their eyes in mock exasperation, waved their hand at the book. “But this is all just so uninspiring and plain. If I wanted to know about Diavolo’s lineage and how much pedigree he has, I should be reading it from a very fancy and very elaborate Family Book. Not a book entitled History of Hell: In-depth Analysis of Important Historical Events.”

“That’s fair.” Lucifer chuckled. He’d had the same thoughts with the class then. “You better make extra effort then. I’ve heard that test is particularly tricky.”

Kita groaned into their hands.

“And you better not fail.” Lucifer reminded them.

“Sure. Your murderous pep talk last night at the House is a great motivator. Keeps replaying in my head how anything that will tarnish the name of the Great Lord Diavolo deserves only pain.” But Kita did not sound enthused.

“Punishment is the best motivator.”

Kita lifted their face from their hands. “Must it always be about punishment –”

“We are literally in Hell.”

“ – can’t I simply want to be a good exchange student and make you proud?”

Lucifer raised a brow and snipped away the tendrils of warmth that threatened to wrap around what little remained of his heart. He could not help but repeat what Kita had just said in disbelief. “You want me to be proud of you?”

“Humans can be very competitive!” Kita hurriedly added as they rubbed the back of their neck. An attempt, Lucifer noted, to hide the blush they usually had on that spot. “Can’t lose to Demons – even if they are the Lords of Hell – Luke won’t let me hear the end of it if I got less marks than Mammon or Asmo.”

Right. Right, of course. It would not have anything to do with him.

And yet.

And yet.

Lucifer nodded. “Then do your best to make sure the little chihuahua won’t have anything to bark about.”

Kita averted their gaze. “Right.”

Silence lingered between them; Kita looking down at their book, hands still on their neck, Lucifer still standing and not quite knowing how to carry on with the conversation.

He should go. He should leave Kita to their studies, as was his original intention. He shouldn’t take more time than he already did from their schedule and he shouldn’t say anything further that would only prove to be distractions for the two of them. Idle conversation that would most likely lead to nothing unproductive. Besides, they would need a lot of time memorizing all the names –

“Well, then –”

“Lucifer, look – ”

They started to speak at the same time, stopped at the same time, and stared at each other waiting for the other one to start again.

“You go.” Kita then said.

“No, you continue.” Lucifer said, placing emphasis on his next words. “I insist.”

Kita seemed to recognize the tone he used as the one that brooked no argument. They took a deep breath, hesitating at first, before very slowly patting the book in front of them. “Can you help me with this?”

“What?”

“I mean – if you’re not too busy, of course.”

Lucifer stared at them as they continued to ramble, continued to explain that they knew Lucifer was also studying for exams on top of council duties but that he did tell all of them to study well – and they were trying, all the brothers have sworn off any shenanigans for two days – but they also know he’d aced this test before and Kita was, quite frankly, completely at a loss so if he could help them and maybe quiz them so they could retain the names more, that would be immensely helpful and they would be forever grateful.

“And,” Kita continued, nearly out of breath, “if you have any nuggets of wisdom now is the right opportunity to maybe share.”

Lucifer knew he could count the times when prizes had been so deliberately placed in front of him for the taking with little effort, knew he’d not even reach the count of three, knew that all he needed to do at the moment was to pluck the gem laid out before him and take it for what it was: a golden opportunity best taken advantage of while it lasted.

These moments were far and few in-between; life had never really been kind to him.

But he could not help but be a fool – a prideful fool – who distrusted anything he did not schemed for or forcibly took. “What it’s in it for me?”

“What?” Kita looked genuinely bewildered.

“What do you offer in exchange for my help?” Lucifer leaned on the table, wanting nothing more than to take back what he said and yet couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. “My help comes at a cost.”

“Cost? I’m just asking for – oh. Oh.” Kita clasped their hands together, eyes brightening.

And again, this took Lucifer by surprise. He had expected them to sulk, or retract their plea, or at least be annoyed at him. Kita had come from genuine need for results – a result he had demanded of them – and here he was demanding something from them again. If Lucifer were in Kita’s position, he would not hesitate to turn the offer down. Violently. Part of him had even prepared for the possibility that Kita would be angry.

But they were not. Far from it.

How was it so easy for them to take him by surprise?

“Of course! Because Demons will never do anything without this weird give-me- your-soul-in-exchange-for-a-wish thing, huh?” Kita laughed.

Lucifer found himself staring at them again. “Not your soul – ”

“I know, I know.” Kita waived their hand, stopping him mid-sentence. A rare thing – how many times had they interrupted him in the five minutes since this conversation started? “I’m a treasured exchange student, my soul isn’t up for grabs, blah blah blah.”

Kita looked at him with a determined glint in their eyes now, and the warmth that Lucifer had turned away earlier came back with a vengeance and with no intention of going away.

“First though, if I do pass the test than that means I won’t be suffering any tortuous punishment.” Kita said. “And you have to treat me to Devildom’s best ice cream.”

“It’s a little too late to change the terms to our first agreement but, all right.” Lucifer agreed. “As for my terms –”

Kita interrupted him for the umpteenth time. “If I score lower than Mammon, I’ll treat you to ice cream.”

“How utterly dull.” He scoffed. “If you score lower than any of my brothers, you will have to treat me to something from the human world that I have not yet tasted.”

“What?!” They gasped. “That’s impossible!”

“I think it’s only fair. Since it is in my interest that you pass this test with flying colors, it is only common sense that I put in such parameters to this new agreement. Besides, I’m the one rendering service, shouldn’t I be the one who gets to say my price?”

“Well, yeah…” Kita chewed on her lip. “But hang on, does this mean your reward is to actually see me pass the test?”

“Do not misunderstand. I expect all of my efforts to bear nothing but the best fruit and as such your passing is but the natural course. However, in the unlikely event that you do fail, then my reward is the execution of your punishment and the pleasure of something novel from the human world.”

Kita slowly nodded. “I was expecting something else, really.”

Lucifer raised both brows, curious.

But Kita only shook their head. “But more importantly, do you seriously think I can top Satan’s score?”

“Of course.” Lucifer answered, taking the empty seat beside them. “I am the one tutoring you, am I not?”

Kita grinned widely at that. “You should not let Satan hear that.”

“I have all the confidence in my skills and all the faith in yours.”

“Whatever.” Kita’s hands went to their neck again. “But all right. Deal. I can practically taste my ice cream already.”

Lucifer took out his personal pen, flipped open the book to where Kita was last reading. “Now, I want you to look at these names and tell me what stands out to you the most.”

It was only when Lucifer was sure Kita was immersed again on their textbook did Lucifer allow himself the softest of smiles. Something that he knew he never believed he could do.

Lucifer did not count how many hours passed as he and Kita went over dates, places, names that were too familiar, too weird, and too closely spelled to be any different from all the others. He did not count how much snack they both consumed or how much coffee Kita managed to guzzle in-between bathroom breaks. Nor did Lucifer count how many times he had sensed his brothers peaking at them from the door, with him bracing himself for any interruption. But none of them entered – if only in their respect for Kita and what they wanted to accomplish.

But Lucifer did count the times Kita was close enough that their arms brushed against each other, and the times Kita would lean over to where he was point at the map and he could smell their perfume. Lucifer counted the times Kita smiled triumphantly at having recalled something faster, the times they rubbed their cheeks in frustration, and the times they laughed at his comments on about Devildom history.

He counted. And each one, he tucked inside that warmth spreading in him, making him feel a lot of things he would not bother counting or saying out loud.

35/182

[threelivesthreeworlds]

anonymous asked   :    Hate that fanfiction/drama reviews misunderstand Yehua & Lian Song. Yehua is commonly portrayed as selfish/insensitive (regarding his past mistakes), which undermines his real personality. Western audiences also obsess over physicality, which bypasses the beauty/innocence of the romance. Sorry for ranting. I can relate to Lian Song, depression-wise.  (1/2)

Hey, same depressed anon here. Given that most other sites on this series follow those painful tropes, you guys are really a breath of fresh air in the fandom. I especially love(and am very relieved) how Lian Song is turning out completely different to people's assumptions about him. I know I can count on you to preserve my interpretation of the characters.  (2/2)

     (ADMIN RO)   :   We the admins have largely been unable to find a lot of fanfiction prominently featuring Yehua or Lian Song in general on our side of the fandom, but we’re sorry you’re having a bad experience with portrayals! 

     As a person who does occasionally take initiative to portray these characters in fan-derivative formats, however, I do think that Yehua has his insensitive and selfish sides. It’s the way he’s raised from a very young age, which manifests itself even so early as when in their childhood, Sujin used to come sit at his desk - he literally obliterates her out of his peripherals and just regards her existence like a brush rack. 

     That tunnel vision came from, most likely, Tianjun’s philosophy on raising future sovereigns, which is that to be the perfect sovereign Yehua’s supposed to be largely emotionless and weigh pros and cons and gains and losses over feelings. There’s also a lack of, presumably, a lot of social interaction that isn’t based on either academia or politics. Strategically, I think Yehua’s thought process, even applied to love and feelings, is very much “this is the best thing to do in this scenario, and therefore the right thing,” and I think only when the results come out badly is when he realizes it may not have been the right thing, and even then he may not understand necessarily where he went wrong.

     So, I think it’s reasonable in the aftermath of his mistakes for him to do badly. And at that point in time his primary goal was to hold on to Qian - given that he had already lost her once. So, understandably, a lot of it doesn’t come out until later. Now, is this still in fact, selfish? Yes. Is it for more complicated reasons than just Yehua is a Selfish Person and the Worst? Also yes. It’s really a balance, and I’m sorry that your reading material has not been hitting that balance.

     As for the topic of physicality - that is different between the couples of each book, I think. As a writer, one of the big rules I personally follow is that anything that goes into the final cut of the draft has to have meaning. It has to matter in some significant way, and the same goes for affectionate or sexual scenes. Now I don’t know how everyone else views it, but viewing it from this perspective, I think the physicality of the relationship, specifically for Yehua and Qian - it’s an “in,” if you will, to their romance, the same way Yehua moving to the fox cave and integrating himself into Qian’s life and taking her on walks and cooking her food is an “in.” 

     Their love is very much a “walking along with you for a while and suddenly realized we love each other” kind, and for Qian, because she’s been going at it alone for so long and because she has had her trust broken before, she definitely needed to get used to the idea of having someone, of loving someone, of existing in the same space as that someone and regarding him not as an outsider but as family, as someone she loves and trusts and can rely on. And so narratively, the physicality becomes important. It becomes sort of the symbol and metaphor for intimacy, for trust, for, bridging their gap and both getting used to and putting down their defenses in regards to loving each other. I always say if the romance is good and well-structured, then the physicality can only add to the depth and meaning of that love. I think in this instance, Tang Qi is very much successful. 

     Thank you very much for your kind words regarding our interpretations of the characters! On this blog we are always trying to fill in character motivations as deeply and three dimensionally as possible while not obliterating their flaws. It’s nice to know that we are succeeding, at least to some degree! 

     (ADMIN LIN) : Now that Admin Ro has addressed Yehua, we’re going to get into the nitty-gritty of Lian Song. Jk jk. We don’t quite know what you’re referring to when you say painful tropes in reference to Lian Song. If it’s how he is portrayed as a playboy - that is in fact not a fandom creation, TQ herself has explained that he is in an author’s note of Lotus Step’s and how it differs from the typical brand. 

Admin Ro is kind enough to do the translation of the author’s note for me. 

Also, I'm not trying to speak up for Lian San, but I'm curious - have you all forgotten he's a playboy? From the start his character setting has never been The Good Man, so, to everyone who asks why he's flirting with her with no intention of marrying her, flirting with her with no intention of marrying her is completely normal for him. Have you all forgotten the beauties that come and go in Yuanji Palace? He has always been the not assertive but not refusing and definitely not responsible Third Highness ahahaha.

For a playboy to go for a beauty that's his type without any care is an easy thing. To debate and consider her interests for a long time is the real action that's different from his usual behavior. This action shows that he feels differently about this person. If they were fighting for a day of pleasure, then what's the difference between Cheng Yu and the beauties that pass through Yuanji Palace?

         However, if you meant there was other interpretation of him out there, we’re definitely sorry you’ve seen those. He definitely does struggle with depression-like feelings, although the mentality also ties to Buddhism, so we believe it’s a mixture of both that the author is showcasing with him. As someone who suffers a similar form of depression, he’s a refreshing take on it. It’s not the typical sad-depression, it’s just an emptiness but still existing and still doing things, even if he switches through 3 million hobbies on any given day. 

        Now mind you, majority of which we talk about Lian Song on this blog takes place during Lotus Step and 50,000 years predating what you’ve witnessed in the variations of him in the dramas. Those are still valid parts of him. Especially regarding Cheng Yu, which James Li (Lian Song from both dramas) has said in an interview their relationship is something like 50% friends and 50% lovers. 

         There is also the serious, decisiveness in which you see when he’s advises Yehua on things. Then there is suggestions Lian Song makes to Yehua, such as the ones that lead to Yehua “meeting” Su Su a second time, this being in his human form. His advice with love is odd, but it’s never done out of his understanding of situations. And his understanding of love, which is shaky at this point in time and that neither admin can say what it is exactly yet in Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms or Pillow Book, because we haven’t had time to sit with him in either timeline beyond him being melancholy over Cheng Yu when she won’t look at him during Bai Feng Jiu’s sword case and earlier in the novel having been making the saber for Cheng Yu that required some help from Donghua Dijun. 

          As it comes to physicality in reference to Lian Song and Cheng Yu - their love story is a bumpy trail, that we still don’t know the full extent. However, if there is any more sexual tension between them, it won’t be appropriate to adapt that aspect of them as it’s a heavy tension. And they are required, by the universe in the future, to have a child. So, once again, Lian Song is not misinterpreted when it comes to these aspects. This doesn’t take away from the romantic elements - sexuality and romance can coexist. They most certainly do within all the couples of this series, these two however are currently the most prominent of the couples so far. 

[kelyon]

TMI how did you meet your wife? Who asked who out first? What is your love story?

We met because of Tumblr. We met because of Rumbelle.

We met because of the great cosmic good fortune that my best friend on the internet lived less than two hours away from me and not on another continent. 

I also love that two bisexual women met and bonded over our mutual thirst for a man and our love for a heterosexual (at least in canon) couple.

@wayamy27narf and I met because we were both betas for a Rumbelle fic writer who had a tendency to leave us alone unsupervised. More and more, it became just the two of us instead of the three of us. Amy and I would swap fics and talk about the show and try to livestream movies. (More than once my spotty internet connection lead to me watching a movie I owned on DVD while chatting with Amy who was watching a downloaded version.) The first movie the two of us watched by ourselves was Singin’ In The Rain.

We “met” for the first time in January 2014. We saw Frozen at a movie theater roughly equidistant from where we both lived. Though we now think of this as our first date, we were still just friends at the time. (I was still straight at the time, though I was willing to think about being bicurious.)

Our next two meetups involved Amy driving an hour and a half to get me and take me to her apartment on Sunday afternoons so we could hang out and watch OUAT together. (This was during Season 3b, so it was a good time to have a friend with you while watching the show, for emotional support.)

Throughout all this, we kept chatting. And texting. And tagging each other in Tumblr posts. At this time, I was getting over a series of lousy relationships, and I remember thinking that if a man had ever initiated contact as much as Amy did, I would have absolutely loved it.

Then there was the time we were chatting and I was talking about how I think the scariest foods are also the sexiest foods, how liver and blood oranges and dark chocolate are all intimidating and mysterious, but also so worth it. In the midst of this conversation, I realized that if I were saying these things to a man, I would definitely be flirting with him.

Amy is also a flirt, I want that on record. She is so enthusiastic in her affections and her love for everything she loves. It is overwhelming in the best possible way. We said “I love you” long before it became romantic. By the time it was romantic, it just felt so natural. I loved her without thinking about it.

The fun thing about fandom (particularly Rumbelle) is that Amy and I started our acquaintance by sharing porn. Before we knew each other’s real names, we knew what kind of kinks we shared. That made it very easy to start thinking about each other in a sexual context, and that helped bridge the gap between me being “bicurious” to being able to satisfy that curiosity.

Not that I could admit that to myself at first. Amy had told me that she had never been in a relationship before. She had never even been kissed. I told myself that it was in the spirit of friendship and sisterhood that I wanted to kiss her. I wanted Amy’s first kiss to be from someone who loved her. As a friend. 

The third time we saw each other face to face, Amy and I sat down together on two couches pushed together to make a “cuddlenest.” I asked her, “Do you want me to kiss you?”

And she said yes.

That was on April 27, 2014. For the past six years, Amy has been my reason and my life, my love and my sunlight, my girlfriend and my fiancee and my wife. I have never been so happy as I have been while I’m with her, even through the ups and downs of being two women trying to make it in a cruel world. Every good thing I am is either because of her or made better by her.

I can’t wait to see what the next 60 years brings to us.