#(bc don't tell me that's not perfect come on)

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Could you write about James Hetfield (from 1998) and reproductive perversion?

A/n: I tried so hard to figure out what this means, I hope I wrote this right

I wrote half of this literally months ago so I genuinely don’t remember what happens

Warnings: smut, fingering (f receiving), breeding kink, reproductive perversion (assuming I did it right), if you think I missed anything please let me know bc I don’t remember what I wrote 😃 otherwise enjoy!

Metallica was hiring and they were one of your favourite bands, plus you really needed a job so you sent in your resume.

You hadn't expected to hear back so soon, or really ever, but it only took a week and you were called in for an in person interview with Metallica.

You walked into some fancy building and were led right to a office. You thought there'd be a line of sorts or something but no, it was fairly quick.

You hadn't expected Metallica to really be there, you thought it would just be an assistant or something, a manager maybe. It wasn't the whole Metallica, just James, but that wasn't nothing and you were still nervous.

"The others are in different rooms, we wanted to get through the interview process fast." James explained simply, sitting across from you behind a desk. He'd set it this way so you wouldn't be able to see how hard he was through his jeans.

You'd sent a picture of yourself with your resume and when James saw you he knew he'd have you one way or another. The band had already decided on you being the new hire, James had offered to tell you himself and the rest of them had left it at that.

James took that picture of you home, unclipped it from your resume and stared at it as he jerked off, cumming on your pretty picture. It wasn't enough but he consoled himself, knowing he'd get his hands on you one way or another eventually.

"I didn't see a line waiting outside?" You said, looking over your shoulder as if to see something, like the office wasn't a closed in space.

"You're early." He said, shifting in his seat and biting his lip as his eyes raked over you.

You thought your interview went fine, James even reassured you at the end that your spot was 'pretty much guaranteed' given the interview.

The goodbye handshake lasted a second too long, not nearly long enough for James. He wanted your hands around his cock, his own groping your chest, squeezing and pulling, fucking your tight hole and getting you ready for him.

You got the call from James himself that you were hired, he wanted to do it in person but after a second thought he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself, over the phone he could get off to your voice without you ever knowing.

And thus started a little routine, at the end of every day, when he knew you were home, he'd call you and listen to you talk about your day or whatever, he never really focused on your words, he just needed to think about your voice and it was enough to get him to that high.

But it wasn't enough, he needed you, in person, with him, on him, under him. His, but he'd wait.

Tours started again and you couldn't be happier, seeing the world, the band you loved, all of it was perfect. Sure, you had to work through it, but James was there when you got stressed.

Somehow you always ended up in a room with him. Of course you did, he wanted you close to him at all times and that meant changing the sleeping arrangements so you were with him.

It started slowly, James would offer you a back massage, to get you food or run you a bath, gradually his offers grew more... aggressive.

He played them off as jokes but you could sense the need behind them.

"You know what the best medication for stress is, don't you?"

"Oh, come on, what's it gonna hurt you?" A small pause, always followed by a much softer "Other than the use of your legs." Which you just had to pretend you never heard.

He ran you a bath and you thank him for it.

As you were laying in the bubbly water, head tilted back and listening to the silence, the door opened and James walked in. He didn't say anything at first and just sat on the counter, watching you closely.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't worry about it." He said quickly, not needing to converse when you were so close to him, so exposed to him.

You tried to ignore him, it was easy at first, but hearing his low groans as he palmed himself through his shorts was harder. It's not that he wasn't attractive, he was, and watching him get off to you felt nice, but he was your boss and it felt wrong on every other level. But it felt so, so nice.

When you watched him he became less shameless, pulling himself out and watching your eyes bug at his girth and length. His noises got louder as you practically drooled over him.

His head fell back as he came, loud groans echoing off the tiled walls, thick strings shooting from his tip and landing on the tiled floor.

He fixed himself up and left the bathroom. "Clean up, would you?" He said before closing the door behind himself.

You got out of the bath and dried yourself off before reaching for your clothes, only James had taken them. You wrapped a towel around yourself and went to your suitcase, as you walked past James's finger hooked your towel and tore it off of you.

You spun around, unintentionally giving him a full view of you naked body. But he didn't grab, just looked -or stared.

"Don't worry about clothes, sweetheart, I've seen it all anyway." He said nonchalantly and went to bed, stripping himself of his own clothes as he went.

This particular hotel room only had one bed. Earlier you'd discussed pulling out the couch, he said he'd sleep there, but now he was in bed so you went to the couch.

"Here." He stated in a much firmer tone than he usually used with you. "You sleep here." He gave the spot next to him a pat.

Not wanting to make him angry, although he already seemed on the verge, you just went along with it and crawled into bed, naked, with him, who was also naked.

He didn't give you a second to think about it before he was right behind you and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you tight to him under the covers.

You were small and vulnerable and weak in his embrace. If you wanted to run you couldn't, part of you didn't feel right but the other side... the other side needed James to break your back and you didn't know how you felt about that.

James's hand snaked around your waist, holding you close before his hand found your cunt.

"Already wet for me, sweetheart?" He mused, thick, experienced fingers running through your folds and rubbing your clit, drawing soft sounds from you.

He pushed a finger into you and moved it slow, finding your sweet spot before he decided to go faster. Your back arched against him, head falling onto his shoulder, resting on his bicep.

He started planting soft kisses over your neck, slowly getting more aggressive until he had two fingers abusing your hole and his canines digging into the spot connecting your shoulder and neck.

“M’close, Jamie, m’so close!” You cried, tears rolling down your cheeks. You’d been close for a while but James always stopped just before you came.

“That’s not my name, sweetheart.” He said through gritted teeth. “You’ll call me by my name or you won’t cum, you understand?” His hand was still moving, but he’d already warned you about cumming without permission, it was getting harder to care to listen and obey his words.

“M’sorry, please, jus’lemme cum, please!” You whined, hips bucking into his hand, begging for release.

“Please, what?” He taunted.

He never gave you a name or title, if you guessed wrong… “Please, daddy, I-I’ve been so good, s’good, please!”

He smiled and kissed your cheek. “Good girl… Cum for daddy, then, cum on his fingers.” You obeyed him, letting yourself come undone in his hold, body melting into the bed, into him. He rolled you onto your back and got on top of you, not wasting a moment before he pushed into you, stretching you out so deliciously as he bottomed out in one quick thrust. “They say higher chances of pregnancy if you cum first.” He said, emphasizing the important parts with thrusts. “That’s it, suck in daddy’s cock, just like that.” He said, his head falling back.

He pulled your hips into his lap, holding your plush flesh in a death grip, not like you were going to try to get away anyway.

You were barely processing anything that was happening, his words weren’t registering and all you could think about was how good he felt inside you, how the veins on his cock dragged against your gummy walls, angling his tip to hit the same spot he found earlier, making your eyes roll back into your head.

“No need for permission anymore, huh?” He asked, feeling you clench around him, close to another orgasm. His hand came down open palmed on your ass, causing you to flinch but he held you still. “Think again, hun.” He’d never called you that before, no one had called you that before, it went straight to your core and you came whether he wanted you to or not, you felt like you were on cloud nine.

The following weeks to come were spent by his side, only giving you breaks when he was on stage and you were to either stay on the sidelines where he could see you or you were locked in his dressing room, usually tied to something with a vibrator in you to make sure you were ready for him when he got back to you.

Your stomach bulged with his cum, you were certain you were pregnant, he was too which only made him more protective and possessive.

You didn’t care, not in the slightest. He was sweet, he loved you and didn’t make you do anything, no cooking or cleaning. No need to work when you were carrying his child.

[quietlyblooms]

alright, friends, it's time for a lil heart-to-heart.

for quite a while now, i've struggled with feeling like the rpc is an actual community. there's a few things that contribute to this feeling, but it mostly comes down to a lack of interaction and visible interest. sometimes i feel very one-sided in my interest and attachment to my mutuals bc when i see their ooc posts or headcanons, i like them or comment, yet this isn't reciprocated by everyone. i can usually guess who i'm about to see in my notifications, and to be absolutely clear, i'm very grateful for those people!! it's a handful or two of you, but it could be just one and i'd be grateful. it's not about numbers whatsoever but rather growing uncomfortable that not all of my mutuals are all that interested in my character or me.

i write on here to share the excitement of creating with other people. i write on here to create together, too, but i'm also here to share characters and ideas and lore with people i know are happy to hear me ramble. i'm just getting to the point in which i'm questioning how many of you are actually happy to listen, and that's just not a good feeling at all. i'm not a mind reader, y'all. if you don't tell or show me that you care about the things i talk about or even about interacting, there's no way for me to know. eventually, i'm going to question why you're following me if i never see or hear from you, and eventually, i'm going to softblock and move on. that's the only way forward i see right now because i just do not feel comfortable on my own blog. i feel like i'm retreating into this quiet bubble to avoid discomfort, and it really sucks. it's killing my muse.

i'm not perfect. none of us are, and we can't be online at all times to catch every little post. but if we're a community, then we should be supporting each other when we can and liking headcanons, liking/commenting on those lil ooc posts that remind us our writing partners are humans with lives outside this site, reblogging their promo posts, sending in that meme they've reblogged even if we're nervous to reach out first -- if we're a roleplaying community, then we need to act like it. " community " implies connection, and a connection doesn't really begin when you follow each other. it begins when you reach out, even if it's in some small way.

tldr: i think we can all do better to support our mutuals and to connect, and i'm going to softblock people rather than continue to feel unsure where i stand with my mutuals. i won't start until sometime next week, and i won't make one of those " like this to remain mutuals " posts. they're not helpful to me, if i'm honest. if you're worried, just reach out. i'm literally a 4'9'' gremlin who sleeps with a m.unchlax plushie -- i promise i'm not scary despite this post uvu

[achillvs]

arcane act2 spoilers as i finished literally 10 min ago

some thoughts i have of act 2 are less generous than i'd like and i think it mostly stems from the fact that time skips are hard to do. the balance between 'show dont tell' and the necessary exposition of what's happened when the audience wasn't there, is hard. i can see arcane struggle with this, esp in ep4. it feels like the dialogue and world's storytelling are trying very hard to find the perfect middle and i'm not sure they succeed. while we had a big jump in time in s1, i think it worked better bc it was so obvious. now it looks like a couple months passed which is both realistically enough time for a lot of change to happen in the world, and not enough for it to be obvious and clear to the audience. especially because we spent the last week wondering about the immediate fallout of ep3 and it feels like thrust into the future without getting it.

act 2 felt sudden to me, untethered to the previously established story. while i usually can appreciate having my expectations subverted, i'm not sure that these subversions were earned or justified. i feel like i missed a few steps and i don't have enough elements to see where the end result comes from. i can figure out that cait's change comes from exhaustion of the fight, but it's not where i thought she would go after the display of hatred in ep3. i'm afraid i fully don't understand ambessa or jayce. i have no idea what they want and why. and i think that's a problem. viktor... i'm willing to see if viktor's plot goes anywhere further before i judge that one.

also where's ekko??

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[ardentpoop]

"Don't say that to me. Not you, of all people." -"I don't want to. But it's the truth." (5.18 "Point of No Return")

[teatitty]

Really in love with AU's rn wherein Bumblebee used to work for Sentinel. There's so many different avenues you can take that across continuities and a plethora of explanations for how and why he ends up on Team Prime [like spying. I really love the idea of BB initially being a spy for Sentinel who gets found family'd so hard he switches loyalties]

[ave-immaculata]

fellas we're once again wrestling with imperfect vs. perfect contrition and why imperfect contrition with a firm resolution to not sin again and promptly receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation doesn't save

[tangents-within-tangents]

"Are Fives and Rex friends?"

Fives: Yes we are. We’re actually, I would say, friends, yeah!

Fives: I sleep on his couch… he has a very nice couch...

Fives:

Fives: Very nice couch.

Fives:

Fives: Like that couch at Coruscant Hardware you want, with all the pillows, that has the deep sides and the tufted leather. That's like 42 inches deep, it’s like a daybed but a couch! 

Fives: It's like a five thousand credit couch! It’s an aMAZ--and then! He has like the cashmere blankets, that are too small but they’re so warm you curl up to fit under them! He has those! Ah!

Fives: It’s a good couch! 

Fives: It's a good couch, he just needs bigger blankets, he needs dude-sized blankets, like 6x9’s because he has 4x5’s and I don't fit.

*Later*

Rex: Fives has Never. Been. In. My home! 

Rex: I don’t know what couch he’s talking about.

[baifengxis]

I know it's on me for looking too many comments and reviews about my favorite shows but do you guys ever feel like people just don't know how to like something anymore? Especially when it comes to tv-shows. It's like everyone's so ready to tear something apart, to be disappointed, to be proven right that a show is terrible like they thought it would be. I'm not talking about constructive criticism nor am I talking about being fairly disappointed over something but not only people love being negative but if you dare say that you love a show they all dislike you have to apologize because how dare you? And if you tell them to stop with the negativity because you just WANT TO ENJOY A MFUCKING TV SHOW when everything in this world is shit, they'll tell you you're censoring their opinions. Like it's not that deep please for the love of god, just let people enjoy things, if you don't like something THAT'S FINE but you don't have to make long essays explaining why and not let other people who do like it, enjoy it.

[britneyshakespeare]

Man is saying weird things to me again

[mutxnts]

man i feel like my writing has actively gotten worse over the course of this year because of how little fic writing i've actually done. i'm staring at this fic like god this just feels so basic and boring and like i don't even know how to write anymore

[burningcomputerpersona]

I CAN'T BELIEVE BELMONT RELEASED A NEW BANGER AND NONE OF Y'ALL THOUGHT TO TELL ME ABOUT IT

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

i want ike to be in three houses

for science

[izzy-b-hands]

I get two fucking sentences in on every new draft for every new idea lately, and then my brain goes 'hm, no, actually that's stupid/boring/cloying/not going to be something you can write at your current ability'

I am. vibrating with rage at my brain rn over this bout of writer's block. Bro we literally want to die whenever I go longer than like. a fucking week without writing SOMETHING; why the fuck are you making this harder!!!!!! Just let me write a full fucking thing even if it sucks!!! but i literally physically start to feel sick and can't push myself to keep typing as soon as the above thoughts hit. I have a stupid number of untitled, barely started to almost completely done drafts, for multiple fandoms (mostly our flag tho admittedly lmao), all of which have been started within the last maybe fourteen days.

i wanna scratch my brain out of my fucking skull lmao. free to a good home after i get it out, if anyone else wants to try and rehabilitate it

[eggmeralda]

listening to my february-june 2022 playlist which led to ⬇️

[racke7]

I took a year's worth of writing-classes, way back in the day. And this was one of the most important things I learned.

It's not your job to "make the story better", it's your job to "help the author make the story that they want to write".

If a scene felt confusing to you, maybe just try to give a step-by-step summary of what happened in that scene (what they were talking about, what they were doing, the implications that you could read into it, etc). Sometimes you're spot-on (and your confusion is important), sometimes you just failed at reading, sometimes the author might go "wait, fuck, did I not explain this part?".

BUT.

But, very importantly, this is for writer's workshops. This is advice for how to be a beta-reader, or an editor. This is the "constructive criticism" that an author specifically asks for prior to publishing.

Don't drop this kind of stuff on someone who's already published their fic (unless they're specifically asking their readers for it). Because that just puts you into the: "unasked for criticism"-hole, and you don't want to go there.

“But let me give you the dark side of writing groups. One really dark side of writing groups is, particularly newer writers, don’t know how to workshop.

“And one of the things they’ll try to do is they’ll try to make your story into the story they would write, instead of a better version of the story you want to write.

“And that is the single worst thing that can happen in feedback, is someone who is not appreciating the story you want to make, and they want to turn it into something else.

“New workshoppers are really bad at doing this. In other words, they’re really good at doing a bad thing, and they’re doing it from the goodness of their heart. They want you to be a better writer. They want to help you. The only way they know is to tell you how they would do it, which can be completely wrong for your story.”

—Brandon Sanderson, Lecture #1 Introduction, Writing Science Fiction And Fantasy