#(i’ve had my mind on this blog all week but by the time i’m actually able to sit down in write words just evaporate unfortunately 😔)

[kisses4reid]

convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).

summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.

genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer

warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl

a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.

“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.

“uh, yeah actually.”

“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”

“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.

“you’re no fun man.”

the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.

three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,

“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,

“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”

spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.

“rubatosis.”

“bless you?”

“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,

“the love of used bookstores?”

“i saw old books in your car.”

“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.

“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,

“you didn’t even look at the register.”

“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.

there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.

“bye.”

the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.

you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.

you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.

“i’m not going to ask.”

“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.

you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”

he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”

you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”

he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”

you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”

“bye, spencer.”

you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?

you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.

you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.

“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”

you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”

he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.

he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.

“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“

“how did you get that perfectly-“

“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”

you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.

“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.

“i can’t tell you.”

you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”

he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, “you don’t have security.”

you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”

he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”

you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”

“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.

“yeah, no i don’t. why?”

spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”

you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.

pt. 3

taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Bar Realizations

Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

a/n: I’ve had this story in my notes drafts for a hot minute but I never posted it but now I feel like I should.

ALSO!!! I HAVE TO START A NEW F1 &F2 MASTERLIST SO BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR THAT!!!!

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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I had always known I was different. From the time I was little, strange things happened around me. Objects moved without cause, emotions surged uncontrollably, and the whispers in my head never ceased. When I discovered the full extent of my powers, I knew I needed help—someone who could guide me. That's when I met Charles Xavier.

He was young, kind, and immensely powerful. His ability to control and influence minds was unparalleled, but it was his patience and understanding that drew me in. He offered to help me harness my abilities, and I accepted, desperate to gain control over the chaos within me.

The process was grueling. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, filled with intense training sessions, meditation, and mental exercises. There were moments when I wanted to give up, when the weight of my powers felt too heavy to bear. But Charles was always there, encouraging me, pushing me to my limits, and teaching me to master my abilities. Over time, our relationship deepened. I found myself drawn to him, not just because he was my mentor, but because of who he was—compassionate, intelligent, and incredibly attractive.

One evening, after a particularly challenging session, Charles suggested we take a break. “How about we go out for drinks? Just the two of us,” he said, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

My heart skipped a beat. Was this a date? Did he feel the same way about me as I did about him? Trying to contain my excitement, I agreed, and we made our way to a cozy bar in town.

The atmosphere was perfect—dim lights, soft music, and a sense of intimacy that made my pulse quicken. We sat at a corner table, and for a while, everything felt perfect. We laughed, talked about everything and nothing, and I felt closer to him than ever before.

But then, she appeared. A tall, confident blonde with a predatory smile. She sauntered over to our table and immediately latched onto Charles, ignoring my presence entirely. “Hey, handsome,” she purred, placing a hand on his arm. “Mind if I join you?”

Charles tried to gently extricate himself from her grasp. “Actually, we’re on a date,” he said, nodding towards me.

The blonde glanced at me and scoffed. “Yeah, right. Like he’d ever go out with you.”

The words stung, and anger flared within me. How dare she dismiss me so easily? I felt a surge of energy, the familiar tingle of my powers awakening. Discreetly, I focused on her, channeling my emotions into a subtle spell. Suddenly, the blonde started babbling, spilling embarrassing secrets about herself.

“I can't believe I lost my job today,” she blurted out, her eyes wide with horror. “And my ex dumped me because I cheated on him. Oh my god, why am I saying this?”

She turned and fled, humiliated, leaving Charles and me alone once more. I felt a pang of satisfaction, but it was short-lived. Charles turned to me, his expression serious.

“Did you use your powers?” he asked quietly.

Guilt washed over me, and I nodded. “I’m sorry. I just... I don’t know. I felt jealous, possessive. I wanted you all to myself.”

Charles sighed and suggested we head back to the school. The drive back was silent, the weight of my actions pressing down on me. Had I ruined everything? As we pulled up to the mansion, I couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

“Charles, I’m sorry,” I said, my voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to lose control. I just... I care about you so much, and seeing her with you made me feel... threatened.”

He remained silent, his face unreadable. As we entered the mansion, I turned to head to my room, wanting to escape the shame and disappointment I felt.

But then, I heard his voice in my mind. “Y/N, I’m not mad or disappointed. In fact, I’m feeling quite the opposite. That was the hottest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

I stopped in my tracks, my heart racing. Turning around, I saw him standing there, a faint smile playing on his lips. Before I knew it, Charles closed the distance between us, his lips crushing against mine in a passionate kiss.

My body responded immediately to his touch, my desire for him igniting like wildfire. I moaned into his mouth, my hands roaming over his strong chest as I returned his kiss eagerly. Charles' taste and touch were addictive, and I already knew I would never get enough of him.

Guided by pure instinct, Charles backed me up against a wall, his lips never leaving mine as he reached behind me to open a nearby door. Still kissing me deeply, he backed us into his bedroom, our mouths fused together.

Breaking the kiss briefly, Charles growled softly, his breath hot against my ear, "Get on the bed, baby." His voice was thick with desire, and I felt my core clench at the commanding tone he was taking with me. I wanted him to take control, to show me just how much he wanted me.

I did exactly as I was told, my heart pounding in my chest as I climbed onto the bed and looked up at Charles expectantly. He reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it, revealing his muscled chest and abs.

My mouth watered at the sight, my eyes roaming over his defined body as I licked her lips subconsciously.

Charles kicked off his shoes and undid his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers, his hard length springing free. Pre-cum glistened at the tip, and my pussy clenched at the sight, my own clothes feeling too tight and restricting.

"Take your clothes off for me, baby," Charles demanded, his voice hoarse as he watched her intently. "Show me that beautiful body."

I sat up, my hands shaking slightly as I lifted my top over my head, revealing my lace bra and the swell of my breasts. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my jeans, shimmying out of them, and then slowly stepped out of my panties, now completely naked and on display for Charles.

He groaned, his eyes raking over my body, taking in my breasts and smooth pussy. "You're fucking gorgeous, you know that?" He took a step closer, reaching out to trail a finger along my inner thigh, his touch sending shivers through me.

"Charles..." I whimpered, my voice filled with need. I had spread my legs slightly, inviting him to touch me where I wanted and needed it the most.

As if reading my mind, Charles smiled wickedly, lowering himself between my thighs. He nuzzled my creamy thighs with his face, placing soft kisses along my sensitive skin as he made his way closer to my core.

I sighed, my hands threading through his hair as I savored the feel of his lips and tongue on my skin.

"Mmm, you taste so sweet," Charles murmured against my pussy, his warm breath teasing me. He kissed my inner thighs again before finally zeroing in on my center, his tongue snaking out to lick a long, slow stripe along my slit.

I cried out, my hips bucking involuntarily as I felt his tongue swipe through my folds, collecting my essence. "Oh God, Charles!"

Encouraged by my reaction, Charles gently gripped my thighs, spreading me open further to give him better access. He swirled his tongue around my clit before sucking it into his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. At the same time, he inserted two fingers into my dripping core, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot inside me.

"Fuck, yes!" I moaned, my body writhing on the bed as Charles ate me out with skill and enthusiasm.

My hands grasped the bedsheets as she surrendered to the waves of pleasure washing over me. Charles devoured me eagerly, clearly enjoying the sweet nectar I was offering him.

It didn't take long for me to climax, my walls clenching around Charles' fingers as I cried out his name.

Charles hummed in satisfaction, licking and lapping up my juices as I rode out my orgasm. But he didn't stop there, continuing to work his magic with his tongue and fingers until I was trembling with sensitivity.

"Please... I can't take any more," I panted, my body still throbbing from the intense orgasms. "I need to taste you now."

With a grin, Charles withdrew his fingers and tongue, giving me a moment to catch my breath. Then he climbed up the bed, positioning himself above me. I reached for his throbbing cock, wrapping my hand around the shaft and stroking him slowly as I guided him to my waiting mouth.

I swirled my tongue around the engorged head, tasting the salty pre-cum before taking him deep into my mouth. Charles hissed, his hips bucking slightly as he threaded his fingers through my hair, gently guiding me as I sucked him off.

I took my time, swirling my tongue around his length, sucking and bobbing my head as I looked up at him through my lashes. I loved the power I felt in this position, knowing that I could bring this strong, powerful mutant to his knees with just my mouth.

"Fuck, Y/N... that feels so good," Charles groaned, his hips picking up a slight rhythm as he gently fucked my face.

I hummed in response, the vibration making Charles grit his teeth. He couldn't hold back anymore; he wanted to feel the tight heat of my mouth around him as he came. With a low growl, he began to thrust into my mouth, his pace quickening as he chased his release.

"Fuck my face, Charles," I moaned, loving the feel of his hard length sliding between my lips. "Cum for me."

my dirty words sent Charles over the edge, and with a hoarse cry, he spilled down my throat, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into my eager mouth.

I savored the taste of him, swallowing every drop he gave me as he rode out his intense orgasm.

We lay together for a moment, catching our breath, before Charles gently withdrew from her mouth, a satisfied smile on his face. "You are amazing, baby."

The comment made me blush, a happy warmth spreading through me as I reached up to kiss him. "Your turn to lay back and enjoy the ride."

With a twinkle in his eye, Charles lay back on the bed, his hard cock standing proud as he watched me straddle him. I smiled wickedly, reaching for a condom from the bedside drawer before rolling it onto him with ease.

I took my time, rubbing my slick folds against his length as I teased us both. Charles hissed, his hips bucking slightly as he tried to urge me down onto him. "Tease," he accused playfully, reaching up to tweak my nipples, making me gasp.

"Impatient," I retorted, aligning myself with him before slowly sinking down, taking him deep inside me. We both groaned, I threw my head back as I savored the feel of him stretching me.

Charles' hands gripped my hips, guiding me as I began to ride him, my tits bouncing with each bounce.

The sound of our skin slapping together filled the room as I picked up the pace, my hips moving in perfect rhythm. Charles thrust up to meet me, his hands squeezing the flesh of my ass as he helped to guide me onto him.

"You feel so good, baby," Charles panted, his eyes closed in ecstasy. "So wet and tight."

I moaned, my head falling forward as I got lost in the sensations. Charles' cock hit all the right spots inside me, and I could feel my orgasm building already.

Reaching between us, I started to rub my clit in tight circles as I rode him harder, my breath coming in short gasps. "Oh, fuck... I'm gonna cum, Charles."

"Cum for me, baby," Charles urged, his voice thick with his own desire. "Let me feel you squeeze my cock with that tight pussy."

As if on cue, my walls clenched around him, my juices flowing as I cried out his name. Charles groaned, his hips snapping up to meet mine as he thrust into me one last time, spilling himself into the condom.

Our bodies shuddered together as we rode out our intense, mutual orgasm.

Collapsing onto his chest, I felt Charles' arms wrap around me, holding me close. We were both sweaty and sticky, but the post-coital glow and the feeling of satisfaction made it all worth it.

"That was incredible," I murmured, placing a soft kiss on his chest.

Charles smiled, his hand gently tracing invisible circles on my back. "It certainly was. But we're not done yet."

I lifted my head to look at him, a mischievous glint in my eye. "Oh, really? And what did you have in mind?"

Charles' gaze darkened with desire. "I want to try something different. Something a little wilder."

Intrigued, I bit my lip. "Like what?"

Charles rolled them over, pressing a kiss to my neck. "You'll see," he whispered, his hand reaching down to stroke my slick folds. "But first, I want to taste you again."

————

My first Marvel story!!!!

Taglist:

@hiireadstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @dhanihamidi @eddieharrington @tallrock35

[bradshawsweetheart]

Good Vibrations | Jake Seresin x Reader |

SUMMARY: Making a bet with Jake Seresin never involved low stakes. This time, after losing to your boyfriend, his "winnings" included you testing out a new sex toy he picked up — not only in public, but in a last minute decision of in the presence of both strangers and your friends. Surely you could be discreet. This would be a cakewalk... Right? WORD COUNT: ~3.08K WARNINGS: THIS BLOG IS 18+ SO JUST ASSUME ANYTHING GOES. MINORS DNI. Swearing, alcohol mention (no one is drunk but worth mentioning), smut, softdom Jake, voyeurism, exhibitionism, edging, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, dumbification (affectionate), Jake being a smug bastard. A/N: I wrote this for this request I received a while back! I hope you enjoy!

“A bet is a bet, darlin’. I don’t make the rules.” Jake smirked. You tried your best to convince him to save his little game for another time, but he wasn’t budging. At all.

“Yeah, a bet we made before agreeing to go to the bowling alley with Bob and Phoenix. And actually, yes, you did make the rules.” You whined as you gripped his hand tighter, forcing a smile on your face as the two of you approached the small table that the pilot and WSO were waiting at.

After a few rounds passed, Bob and Natasha were absolutely destroying you in duos. 

“I thought you were good at this game, Bagman?” Natasha quipped tauntingly after Bob rolled yet another perfect strike. He now had a turkey when neither of you had gotten anything better than a spare during the entire game. You were getting absolutely creamed; it was embarrassing. Yet somehow, contrary to any kind of normalcy, neither of you seemed to care. “You talk a lot of game for someone who’s losing by an embarrassing amount already.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky my mind is elsewhere tonight or else you’d both be going home cryin’ to mama.” Jake chuckled before he dug a couple of shiny quarters from his pocket and bounced over to the jukebox. How he managed to be so cocky while actively losing was beyond you – any other time, he would be sore about it for two weeks minimum. Natasha raised a brow at you, amused, and you returned a playful eyeroll.

“I’ve never known you to focus on anything other than winning, so I’m calling bullshit.” Bob scoffed before offering a lopsided smile to meet your sheepish gaze. 

You watched Jake curiously as he seemed to be intently searching for a specific song, and not long after, The Beach Boys’s Good Vibrations started to bump throughout the half-empty, neon-lit bowling alley. Your face fell when he swaggered back to the table with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You thought that maybe he had forgotten about your arrangement until you felt the cool metal of the tiny remote being lightly dragged up your bare thigh under the table when he sat back down. You shuddered before sending him a warning glare. Natasha expertly sent her ball down the lane, and as soon as it collided with the pins, a powerful vibration from inside your underwear sent electricity through your core. You lurched forward and a guttural groan flew from your mouth before you could stop it. Bob whipped his head around to face you, concern evident on his face.

I’m pickin’ up good vibrations

She’s giving me excitations

“Are you alright?” Bob asked, reaching a comforting hand toward you. 

Jake quickly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you, along with your stool, closer to his side. His touch was the only one you would know when you were turned on, and he was not about to let another man put his hands on you while you were already teetering on the edge of euphoria. You began to scramble for a response as Jake upped the strength of the vibrations by one level.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. Just – just bummed for you that it wasn’t a strike. Phoenix, your form was per… perfect.” You stammered; your knuckles turned white as you tightened your grip on the edge of your chair. Jake shoved a fistful of nachos in his mouth to hide his smirk, which earned a suspicious look from Bob.

“Ugh, I know. I got the next one, though.” Natasha chirped at your compliment with a confident wink before turning on her heel to retrieve the ball to roll for a spare. 

Jake brought his hand to rest on your bare thigh and began rubbing circles on your skin with his calloused thumb. The combination of the vibrations and just this simple contact from his hand was giving you goosebumps. You adjusted your position on the uncomfortably hard plastic of your chair.

“You okay, sugar?” Jake asked innocently. You shot daggers at him. The corner of his lips quirked upward.

When I look in her eyes

She goes with me to a blossom world

“Just peachy.” You replied curtly, exhaling slowly through your nose. 

His pinky slowly trailed further up your thigh until it was brushing along the edge of your skirt, his middle and ring fingers teasingly pushing up and down between the plush of your thighs. You pressed your legs tighter together to halt his cruel teasing as he smugly watched your eyebrows furrow. You tried to keep your breathing even as you watched Bob and Natasha, who were thankfully too lost in their climb to victory to notice what a menace Jake was being.

I don’t know where but she sends me there

(Oh, my-my, what a sensation)

“You’re up,” Bob nodded to Jake. Jake was quick to pull away from you as he popped up and strode over to take position. He kept one hand in his pocket as he eyed the lane and readjusted his aim a couple of times. “One-handed in a way that you couldn’t care less. What, d’you give up already?” Bob teased. Despite him being on the opposite team, you loved when Bob would start to smack-talk after a few beers. He really came out of his shell whenever it was time for a little friendly competition.

“This is how a real pro operates, kiddo. Take notes.” Jake responded without breaking his focused gaze on the pins.

“Yeah, let’s see how far that gets you.” 

And with that, Jake took his shot and rolled a perfect strike; and in doing so, he upped the vibration strength in his pocket the moment the ball collided with the pins yet again. A higher pitched moan left you and you did your absolute best to disguise it as a celebratory cheer. You were relieved when it seemed to pay off. Bob’s jaw was slack as he marveled at Jake’s shot.

“That’s how the adults play, Baby On Board,” Jake chided as he made his way back to his seat next to you. Bob rolled his shoulders back with a grimace as he muttered to himself. 

Gotta keep those lovin' good vibrations a-happenin' with her

“You’re up, chickadee.” He grinned at you, subtly adjusting his jeans to conceal his growing erection as he watched your face. Your eyelids were struggling to remain open as the sensations took hold over you. The mischievous glint in his eye was as prominent as it ever could be. You narrowed your eyes at him as you stood, a little unsteady on your feet as the vibrations against your increasingly dripping core remained constant. You pick up your ball from the rack and move to take position. Your senses were overwhelmed as the consequence of Jake’s winnings kept at your clit; everything was suddenly too loud, the entire joint smelled overwhelmingly like beer and fried food, and now you were squinting against the pink and blue of the neon that was reflecting off the recently waxed wood. You took a deep breath and aimed your ball before sending it flying down the lane. You thought that now that you were front and center, with everyone’s eyes on you, you would be safe from Jake’s antics. You thought wrong.

(Ahhhhh!)

Your ball sped toward the pins and collided, successfully knocking them all down and earning yourself a perfect strike – your first of the night. 

Good, good, good, good vibrations

The biggest grin found its place on your face and just as you jumped up to celebrate, you fell to your knees with a high pitched whine as Jake upped the intensity by several levels. Bob flew out of his chair to kneel beside you, placing his hand on your arm as you trembled, your head bowed to the floor. Jake’s skin burned as he watched Bob’s hand on your skin, but he let it slide. This was his doing, after all. Jake stood from his chair and was behind you immediately as he turned the toy off with the remote in his pocket. You bit your lip to conceal your pathetic whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Natasha questioned in a rush as she dropped her knees to the floor beside you.

Good, good, good, good vibrations

“I’m okay,” you reassured them, exhaling slowly and keeping your voice steady. You couldn’t do this much longer. The desperation for relief was overwhelming you. “It’s just really hot in here. I think I just need to splash some water on my face.” Natasha glanced down at her jacket – she was freezing, even with the alcohol in her system – but she nodded nonetheless.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She offered, standing slowly and steadying you against her elbow as she pulled you up with her. She searched your face with genuine concern. It kind of made you want to elbow Jake in the ribs for making your friends think there was something seriously wrong with your health at the moment. You flicked your eyes back over your shoulder to meet Jake’s — you could tell he was struggling to keep a straight face at this point. His lips quirked as he watched you, bringing a firm hand to rest at the small of your back and teasingly rubbing underneath your shirt with his thumb. Your breath hitched. You shook your head rapidly at Natasha’s offer and waved her off, offering an appreciative smile. Jake’s features were only half-apologetic as he pulled you against him and leaned down to give a chaste kiss to your forehead. You playfully sighed in annoyance at him. You agreed to his terms when you made the bet. You just didn’t think he would be so remorseless in his use of the new toy in public. 

Bob shifted anxiously on his feet as he observed you, subtly bopping his head to You Dropped A Bomb On Me by The Gap Band that was now playing on the jukebox. You bopped your head in time with him with a small smile and watched him visibly relax.

“It’s just hot in here. I’ll be much better when I come back.” You reassured them again as the trio watched cautiously. Jake’s eyebrow quirked as you passed him. He knew what your plan entailed and he wasn’t too thrilled about it.

You hurried to the bathroom, quickly locking yourself into one of the stalls and leaned back against the cool metal of the door. You bit your lip to keep yourself quiet as you dipped your hand into your underwear, desperate for relief and suppressing a moan when your fingers ghosted over your sensitive clit. You didn’t even bother to check if the bathroom was empty – frankly, you were too on edge to care. After a few minutes, Jake excused himself to go check on you. He looked both ways before practically flinging himself into the women’s restroom and closing the door behind him hastily.

“What’s got you so worked up, baby?” Jake drawled after making sure it was just the two of you in the room. You whimpered at him quietly. He took a moment — finally alone — to adjust his pants more openly and palm over his hardening cock. He took notice of your feet under the stall door and imagined the way you were positioned. He pictured your brows knit, bottom lip between your teeth as you ran your fingers through your folds and desperately grinding down onto your hand for relief. He was painfully hard just at the thought of it. Jake locked the bathroom door behind him — whoever might have needed to come in here could wait. 

At the click of the lock, you were out of the stall and on him in a flash, desperately pulling him against you and attaching your lips to his. He grinned into the kiss as your lips moved feverishly together. He secured one hand against the back of your neck and his other on your hip as he walked you backward until your ass was hitting the counter. You sighed into his mouth, running your hands down the front of his torso and pushing your hands under his shirt. His skin was hot to the touch and you wanted nothing more than for it to be against yours. You gently raked your nails down his abdomen and pulled his hips closer to yours by his belt loops. He hummed. “You’re breaking the rules.”

“Don’t care,” You took his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged gently, whimpering when he lifted you enough to position you on the very edge of the sink. “Need you.”

“Need me, huh?” Jake teased, leaving your swollen, kiss-bitten lips and attaching his own to that sweet spot under your ear. He pushed your legs further apart with his knee before slotting his thigh between yours. “You wanna be a good girl and hike up your skirt for me?”

You whined pathetically at his words as you pulled at your skirt and ground your heat onto his thick, denim-clad thigh. He continued to leave a trail of hot, opened-mouth kisses down your neck and chest before yanking your top down to attach his lips to your already-peaked nipple. He took his hand from the back of your neck to knead at your other breast, pinching your nipple between his index and middle fingers. You sucked in a sharp breath and threw your head back with a moan, grinding down onto him a bit harder. He grinned against your skin as he quickly flicked over your nipple with his tongue before switching to the other.

“I got you, pretty girl,” Jake cooed, snaking the hand that was firmly secured against your hip to the apex of your thighs. He moaned lowly at the feeling of your wetness-soaked underwear, slowly rubbing small circles over the fabric. It wasn’t enough. You whimpered, grinding into his hand and digging your nails into his biceps. “So wet for me. You been thinking about me touching you all night with that vibrator against your cunt?” You could do nothing but nod weakly, your head resting back against the bathroom mirror. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Yes sir,” You mewled. 

“Good girl,” Jake grunted, flicking your nipple with his tongue once more before releasing it with a pop! He dropped to his knees and pulled your panties to the side, wasting no time in spreading you with his fingers and licking a thick stripe upward before plunging his tongue into your weeping hole. “Weren’t exactly trying to hide how good I was making you feel, were you, baby?”

“Oh, my fucking –” You jolted. Jake attached his lips to your clit, alternating between licking and sucking as he brought his middle finger to push into you slowly, gliding in and out of you with ease. Your fingers wound into his blond tresses and you eagerly tugged at his scalp, earning a pleased, guttural groan from somewhere deep in Jake’s sternum. You were already so close after being practically edged all night long.

He pulled your thighs over his shoulders before pushing his ring finger into you now, curling his digits upward against that spongy spot in your walls and pumping them into you at a steady pace. You let out a long, high pitched whine as he hit the perfect spot over and over and over and over. He moaned and relished in the feeling of your heat clenching snugly around his digits. Your brain turned into mush – you heard his voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying. “I – I’m – Jake, I can’t –”

“You sound so pretty when you moan for me, baby,” He smirked against your skin as he watched your fucked-out expression. Your eyes screwed shut with your eyebrows sloped and your mouth agape – it always drove him crazy. “What, can’t take any more? Forgot how to use your words now?” You could do nothing but cry out and nod rapidly against the mirror. “My poor baby. Taking my mouth and fingers like such a good girl.” He hummed against your clit and you choked out a sob, tears streaking your cheeks now and desperately grasping his hair. You were so, so close, teetering on the edge and waiting for him to push you over like he always does… Then, suddenly, he withdrew from you completely. Your eyes flew open, wild, and searched his smug face while he lazily kissed your inner thighs.

“What are you –”

“You broke the rules.” He stated simply, pulling your skirt back down over your thighs and smoothing it over with his calloused fingertips.

“What?” You exhaled incredulously, blinking at him, chest heaving. He rose to his feet and kissed your collarbones as he readjusted your shirt over your breasts before wiping his chin.

“You broke the rules,” Jake repeated. His eyes were dark with want yet held an incredibly amused glint. “No touching yourself.” Your jaw fell slack as you searched his features for the hint of a joke – there was none.

“Jake –” You began to protest – to plead.

“Come on, baby,” He grinned, pulling you down from the counter and spinning your hips to stand in front of him to face the mirror. You could still do nothing but blink dumbly at his reflection. He brought his hot lips down to where neck meets shoulder as he ground his hard cock against your ass. You whimpered, reaching for him behind you. He stepped out of reach and grabbed your hand instead, interlocking your fingers. He adjusted himself by tucking his solid length into the waistband of his jeans. “We have a game to get back to.”

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“You’re finished when we get back to your place.” You hissed at Jake lowly through gritted teeth as he unlocked the door and pulled you back into the bowling alley with him. He ignored the glances you two were getting from a few lingering patrons as he strode back toward Bob and Natasha. The music was loud, but maybe not loud enough to conceal what was happening behind the locked door from anyone within ten feet of it.

“Not if I finish you first,” He challenged with a grin. He fished the remote from his pocket and dangled it in front of your face. “If you can even make it that long.”

[versethetic]

NOT PERFECT. JUST LOYAL.

i like to keep things real here so i tend to share my slight struggles with loa so that others who’ve gone through the same thing don’t beat themselves up over it.

but i’ve actually only fully understood what it means to live in imagination for a little while now;, and then put it to good use just a couple weeks ago.

despite knowing about the law for over a year…💀

OVER. A. YEAR…💀💀💀

even then, i got so caught up in making the images in my head perfect, or making sure i’m “saying the right affirmations" which obviously didn't help my case

i love reading loa posts because they make me feel nice and inspired and just remind me of my power but i somehow equated that as me overconsuming info and then i would spiral within my own head.

i would barely think of my desires as mine and when i did for only a day or two, i’d then turn around and believe that i wasn’t doing enough, that i need to affirm more or visualize for an hour and walk through every step of my day in my new perfect life or else it wouldn't manifest.

loyal according to merriam webster is "unswerving in allegiance"

all the way up until a couple weeks ago, i was not loyal to the idea that my imagination is all i need. i was not loyal to the idea that the 3d means absolutely nothing in terms of “getting” what you want, because there was nothing for me to get. now, i have become loyal to already having my perfect life.

i am that bitch. i am the prettiest princess. i am the smartest in school. i am the most famous. but i didn't need to have the perfect mindset with loa to realize it.

do you see where i’m going with this?

IMAGINATION IS ALL YOU NEED

granted, i had my days after this realization where i still struggled with techniques or accepting my new life as mine, but now i know that if i don’t identify with these things, it has not a single setback on my manifestations.

no matter what i was feeling, i told myself “i have it, my life is perfect, i am calm, i have it in imagination, the old senses are dead to me, i know what’s in my mind is the real truth”

when loa blogs say that you know you have it, it’s not some cheap trick they spew out because everyone else is saying it. if you imagine what you want, it’s officially set in stone. what you think comes to life.

the 3d is the afterimage, the product of a movie you directed, wrote, produced and starred in. you just need to stick with this fact through thick and thin, sleet or snow.

YOU are what the 3d answers to.

YOU are what the mirror reflects.

YOU decide how simple things are for you.

if you woke up and the old senses in front of your human eyes still show something you don’t like, are you gonna take that as a fact?

when you know and are loyal to the fact that your godly brain is showing you that devoted sp you have? that grand big mansion you live in? that whole new life you’re dwelling in?

NO. you’re not. think of you and you're 4d as BFFs who'll never separate, who tell each other everything and have those bff necklaces and go everywhere and do everything with each other. or imagine you're a ceo and your 4d is a loyal secretary who never asks questions and simply obeys whatever you tell it to do, because it trusts YOU. it works for YOU. however you wanna see it, you and your 4d are locked in 🔐🤞, okay? it is not separate from you, it does not seek guidance or information from anywhere other than YOU.

IT IS YOU.

and it took me a long time to see that.

it might be hard at first and the acceptance might not always be there. but i am making a conscious effort to at LEAST continuously tell myself that my imagination is all that matters. to at LEAST believe that what i want is already mine, and that’s the LEAST you can do as well.

your journey does not have to be perfect. your mindset does not have to be perfect. your feelings do not have to be perfect. mine definitely weren't. you just need to be loyal to your imagination.

[caelisblade]

¡! the kaveh way | alhaitham

synopsis: after being married for quite some time, you and alhaitham decide to expand your new little family and try for a baby – unfortunately, things don’t work out as you imagine for a bit. after a short chat with kaveh, alhaitham decides to try switching up things a little and try the kaveh way while trying to get you pregnant – letting loose completely for once and making you feel absolutely loved and cherished. and of course, completely drunk on ecstasy from all the mind-numbing pleasure he was intending to make you feel.

cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used but only once; mentions of pregnancy, trying for a baby, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampies, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), pet names (god there’s so many; baby, babe, sweetheart, good girl, my queen, honey, princess), slight degradation (he calls you his pretty slut once or twice lol)

this is a repost from my previous blog yaesnovels.

alhaitham was rolling his eyes when he heard kaveh’s laugh, the blond architect pretending to wipe tears off his cheeks in exaggeration. “so, you’re actually telling me that you were completely relying on logic with this whole thing?”

“yeah, so? what’s so wrong about it?”, alhaitham argued back, it simply just made so much more sense for him to get real with facts and logic about your mutual decision to try for a baby, after being married for quite some time and being absolutely ready and sure about it. “it doesn’t really make sense to try when she isn’t even able to get pregnant, so what’s the problem here?”

“alhaitham, you’re such an idiot, oh god”, kaveh laughed. “so, you guys have only been having regular fucks whenever she was ovulating and didn’t even pay attention on how you were feeling at all? of course things wouldn’t work out like that!”

that made the scribe think – no, neither of you had really considered that your emotions and the intimacy throughout the process of trying. the more kaveh spoke on what to pay attention to, speaking from a more emotional perspective, alhaitham was absolutely sure on what to do – well, luckily, you were ovulating anyway. he couldn’t totally let go of relying on logic, after all.

he might as well make things up to you for not paying attention to you as much as he should have as your husband. and he might as well try the kaveh way of things to get your mutual dream come true.

–

the moment you were back home, alhaitham pulled you inside the house, close to himself and lifting up your chin as he kissed you. he kissed you, oh, so softly; he hadn’t been this gentle with you in such a long time.

you knew that he had been busy with the akademiya falling apart so he was insanely stressed out with the sudden new workload. so, the whole baby making thing you were both excited about had been a complete disappointment so far – he probably didn’t even realize how much the stress affected his mood and you didn’t really want to talk to him about it either.

he was going to realize it sooner or later and it appeared that just now, he did realize it. “i’m so sorry for neglecting you recently”, he mumbled, burying his face against your neck. “i’ve been a terrible husband, haven’t i?”

“well, i wouldn’t say terrible because either way, i love you, but yeah, the last couple of weeks were somewhat lonely for me”, you replied, voice soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying your best not to sound too sad about the whole situation.

“i love you”, alhaitham said, planting yet another kiss on your lips before he pulled you inside to the kitchen where you were met with an already prepared, candlelit dinner that had you look at him with so much love in your eyes. he couldn‘t even remember the last time you had looked at him this way. it had been far too long.

“this all looks so great, thank you, my love”, you smiled, sitting down, as you immediately dived in, groaning at how good it all tasted. “this is amazing.”

“of course, love. you deserve all the best.”

–

after dinner, he pulled out some wine as he put on some of the sensual music he got from kaveh (which he only accepted reluctantly, after deciding it was time to pamper you since he didn’t get to do that for so long now). “going all out tonight, aren’t you?”, you teased, “well, it wouldn’t be fair if i were to let you do everything right?”

you finally returned from the bedroom you had buried yourself in after dinner, wearing one of the sets of dark red lingerie your friends had jokingly gifted you for your wedding. alhaitham gulped at the sight, you were looking so gorgeous in that soft silk, it was so hard for him not to pull you on his lap and rip that unnecessary fabric off.

you grabbed the glass of wine alhaitham had already poured as you sat on the couch next to him, drinking a sip to calm your nerves – it had been so long since alhaitham truly paid attention to you, which you didn’t blame him for. it just simply affected how easily shy you got around him; something you had gotten over with after a while of being with him.

“you’re so beautiful, baby”, he mumbled, “i missed you so much the last couple of weeks. everything was just so stressful, i’m sorry for not paying attention to you more.”

“it’s alright”, you replied, placing the glass on the table, pulling him on top of you, giggling as you noticed how taken aback he was about that. you had your legs wrapped around his hips, laying down on the couch before you kissed him. you only realized in that moment how much you had missed your gentle and doting husband.

though, the only thing you did not realize was that this piece of lingerie – which didn’t really cover anything of your skin and beautiful body – was the reason for the pussydrunk beast he tried so hard to push away from coming out.

he deepened the kiss, one hand softly lingering over your legs, as the other one was pulling down the fabric to reveal your nipples which he just started to play around with, pinching, sucking, biting on them, having you writhe around. the more he went down on you, he noticed the beautiful scent coming from your body — he assumed a perfume that had an undertone of some sort of aphrodisiac because it made him go so feral out of nowhere — as he was pulling off the panties covered by the short dress.

“you’re so gorgeous, baby”, he mumbled against your thighs, and leaving a soft kiss on your clit. “i can’t wait to pamper you like you deserve, my queen.”

alhaitham didn’t care how messy he was when he was fucking you with his tongue, thumb circling your clit and he was holding your thighs apart with his tight grip, already so pussydrunk with your taste and he was unsure if he would be able to stop.

“feels good, honey? i can tell by your cute noises, baby, oh you sound so good. it’s been so long since i last got to taste you, hasn’t it? i missed the way you taste and the way you pull my hair when you get so needy, baby”, he talked you through your first orgasm of the night, you were shaking and your eyes had gotten all teary.

“alhaitham”, you whimpered out his name, body relaxing as you calmed down. “please.”

“please, what, lovely?”, he questioned, teasing you with a soft giggle. “just kidding, honey. let’s move to our bedroom, shall we?”

he had you thrown over his shoulder, having you laugh as he tickled you and then put you down on the bed, before he laid down on top of you, caressing your cheek. “i keep on repeating this but archons, i’m so in love with you, baby”, he whispered, “i can’t imagine spending my life without you anymore.”

“i love you, too”, you replied, kissing him so passionately when you were turning you both around, sitting down on your husband’s lap as you pulled the silk over your body, all naked on top of him and you couldn’t help the heat rushing up your cheeks as you realized that alhaitham was still in his clothes.

“not fair”, you mumbled, unbuttoning his dress shirt, before he sat up to pull the fabric off his body. you leaned down to press soft kisses over his skin, down to his abs, still so mesmerized by how toned his body was despite being a researcher and mostly sitting in his office doing paperwork.

“you know what’s not fair, love? the fact that you try to be on top of me when tonight was supposed to be all about you. and since i know you love me being rough”, he interrupted himself as he pushed you back down on the bed, keeping your wrists pinned against the soft mattress, hips pressing against yours as he kept you on your spot, “i will just use you until i fuck a baby into you.”

you rolled your eyes back as he spoke, the thought of you finally getting pregnant after trying for so long had you whine in need; you just wanted him to fill you up over and over until you couldn’t take anything in anymore.

alhaitham pulled his pants down and threw them off the bed, grabbing your hips to lift you up and thrust deep inside of you, having you cry out as you pulled him closer to you. “please, fuck me”, you whimpered, the needy gaze you had in your eyes were simply making him go feral on you, rough and hard thrusts almost immediately, the sound of skin slapping against skin had you so weak in the knees.

“archons, you feel so good around me, honey”, he groaned, keeping up his relentless pace as you buried your nails into his back. “go on, babe, leave your marks on my back. go crazy, i don’t mind. i love the sweet pain you make me feel. beg for me to make you come and cream on my cock. beg for me to come deep inside you, to get you pregnant with my baby. you want that so bad don’t you, baby? you want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

“please, i need it so bad. wanna make you- make you a daddy”, you babbled, your brain no longer properly functioning as the attention he gave you and your pleasure was making you feel dizzy, tears rolling down your eyes and it was obvious that those tears were not primarily from the stimulation he put your body through. they were mainly tears of genuine disappointment coming from the failure from the constant negative pregnancy tests.

“oh, honey, you will. don’t worry, you definitely will. even if it doesn’t work out this time, i promise you, i won’t give it a break until we make our dream come true”, he calmed you down, slowing down with his thrusts to give you his full attention again. “shh, baby, don’t cry, love.” his voice was so soft and he stopped his movements for a moment, pulling out as he finally realized you were actually crying and those weren’t tears coming solely from pleasure.

“need me to stop?”, he asked then, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. you shook your head no. “shh, what happened, love?”

“the thought… of not being able to get pregnant and giving you what you want”, you mumbled, “you wouldn’t leave me if i weren’t able to get–”

“hey, hey, no. stop right there, love. there is nothing in this world that could make me love you less, especially just because this didn’t work out. i would never leave you for something as simple as this; for something we both couldn‘t have any control in. i love you too much to do something like that. i’d rather get old with you alone instead of leaving you because i couldn’t get you pregnant.”

he left soft kisses on your face, making you giggle while your sobs stopped and you calmed down again. “archons, that must’ve ruined the mood now”, you mumbled.

“what are you talking about, babe?”, he smirked, leaning down to kiss you on your lips. “i recall promising you to pamper you like you deserve, didn’t i? and believe me, i intend to keep that promise.”

–

he was manhandling you like it was no struggle for him at all – lifting your legs to get you into a mating press, your hips up as you were laying on you stomach as he fucked you from behind. alhaitham was not hesitant to make sure you knew who‘s in control, having you at his complete mercy as he made you gush around him over and over again.

“oh, you feel so good, princess. take it like the good girl you are, sweetheart”, he groaned, “mhm, good job, honey. you‘re doing so amazing for me, taking your husband‘s cock like the good and pretty little slut you are. you’re my good little slut, aren‘t you, baby?”

he chuckled as you nodded in agreement, brain totally empty from all sort of thoughts, eyes glassy and full of tears from the overstimulation.

“that’s a good girl”, he groaned, intertwining your hands as he leaned down to kiss you on your soft, yet somewhat swollen lips from all the kissing sessions you had in your breaks. “oh, archons, i’m so obsessed with kissing you, honey.”

you were pretty much unable to reply at this point – brain totally clouded and blurry from how good and exhausted you were feeling.

“look at how much you’re coming for me, honey. look how much of a mess we made here”, he mumbled against your neck, watching how his cum leak out your cunt, before he scooped up some of it with his fingers and pushed them inside of you. you had lost all track of time and you were sure it had been a couple of hours since he had started ravaging you.

“sensitive”, you whimpered out, brain unable to process anything else. it had been a bit since all power had left your body and you were just laying there, taking it like his good girl he loved to praise you as.

“oh, love, did you think i was done? that’s cute”, alhaitham giggled before he thrusted his cock back inside, “i’m not going to stop.”

your eyes widened, the realization of what was to be expected of your insatiable husband had you look at him somewhat in fear. you couldn’t remember the last time he had made you shake so intensely, make you come over and over until you were nothing but his good girl, his good little slut, clenching around him so tightly as he had you underneath himself at his mercy.

“what is it, sweetheart? am i scaring you, baby? good. you’re all mine. you deserve such a good fuck for being such a good girl for me, lovely. you deserve everything i could possibly give you just for wanting to create a new life with me.” he let out a groan as he – once again – buried his cock deep inside of you, painting your walls white. “come for me, baby, just take it all and come for me.”

the moment you gushed around his cock, crying out his name and sobbing in pleasure, he just watched you unfold, losing all control of yourself as you submitted to the way he made you feel so good.

“you took my cock so good, honey. i’m so proud of you”, he mumbled, pulling out. “and if this time did not work out, we‘ll try again. it‘s alright, sweetheart. it will happen eventually.”

he placed a hand on your tummy, thumb softly caressing the naked skin. “one day it will work out.”

–

“relax, sweetheart. i know this was a lot to take in, i don‘t really know what came over me tonight”, alhaitham calmed you down. he hugged you tightly from behind as you both sank into the bath. “feel good honey?”

you nodded, closing your eyes as you relaxed against him, your tense muscles turning into mush as he simply made you feel so giggly and happy as he playfully started tracing random shapes over your tummy. “i have a good feeling about tonight, y‘know? i feel like this time it will have worked out”, you said.

“we‘ll see, honey. and even if not, it‘s perfectly fine”, he whispered, making you shiver at how deep his voice was. it was a reminder of all the promises he made; how they were always kept and came true eventually. and you knew that this one, no matter how long it’ll take, wouldn’t be broken either.

[eowynstwin]

Hi everyone. It's been a while—exactly a month since I last posted to this blog. How have you been?

A month isn't really all that long, but it's enough time to be able to look at everything that happened and understand it better. In the end, the whole situation (I've been calling it The Fuckening in my head) really didn't have anything to do with me. I was unlucky enough to run across someone willing to hurt anyone they could for attention, but also lucky enough that everyone who mattered to me in this fandom went to bat for me.

So I’ve decided to come back to this blog. I'll be posting about call of duty again as well as posting my writing. I also plan to blog about other fandoms (I’d already been doing it anyway); I've been getting back into rdr2, for example, and there's some writing I'd like to do for that.

There’s more context which I’ll put below the cut, but that’s the most important part of what I have to say; I often regret how long winded I can be, so the rest is just self indulgence if you can forgive it. I’ve thought a lot about this choice and I’m satisfied with my decision. I hope none of you will mind.

So, lol, things were not great outside of fandom stuff when it all kicked off, though I didn’t mention it publicly because we all know by now that asking for any sympathy when you’re the target of a mob is more likely to just get you raked over the coals harder. I’m still not entirely sure about talking about all of this, but I have a bad tendency to clam up when I really should be asking for support. So:

I mentioned briefly before the accusations started flying that I was dealing with bedbugs—turns out it was actually something else, but leading up to a doctor’s visit I was convinced I had an infestation, and I was stripping my bed every day to look for them. I had alarms set to wake me up twice a night to see if I could catch them, so I was not sleeping all that well. I couldn’t find anything, but I had no other explanation, and it was driving me fucking crazy. Post doctor visit it turns out I had a viral infection. No idea where I caught it, and nothing to do but wait it out. I had a massive, gnarly looking rash all over my body, and to add insult to injury I developed a fever that took me out for a whole weekend. (I’m recovered now but I have a nifty new scar on my hip from getting a biopsy.)

Next to that, I was having some PTSD flareups of my own. This was (mostly) unrelated to The Fuckening. Now, I understand that that might be hard to believe, given “Myka’s” claims, and I can’t make you believe me. Nor will I provide details to convince you, other than to say there were some things going on in my neighborhood that recalled a period of time in my life that was extremely unstable, and I found myself irrationally terrified to go home every day. For those of you who don’t experience the symptoms of PTSD, I think it’s appropriate to note that it isn’t just emotional turmoil; I, personally, experience physical pain in my entire body that lingers for hours, days, or even weeks after being triggered. (Everything regarding this, too, is fine now. I have a great therapist and a supportive family.)

All of this to say, I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally when I decided to leave this blog and fandom. And I regretted the decision almost instantly.

However, I didn’t want to let grief make any decisions for me, and also I was still VERY scared Myka was going to hunt down my personal information and either dox or harass me elsewhere. I think this fear was justified; it has happened to other writers in this fandom before.* So I decided to take some time to cool off and watch the situation develop without me.

I don’t think I need to get into the details—although if you’re interested in them, @fulltacs has been keeping track of the drama. Given the most recent development with the four obviously sock puppet blogs that popped up and immediately began stirring shit up again, I realized Myka probably would have done what she did with or without me. I just so happened to give her the ammunition she needed to do something REALLY big. It was pure bad luck.

(Also—and I’m sorry if this is just stirring the pot, but after everything they did to me I feel I deserve to make the accusation—I’ve suspected for a while that the two loudest blogs leading the witch hunt against me were far more involved in this farce than anyone has assumed. I have no proof and I do not want anyone to do anything about it on my behalf, leave them the fuck alone. But I will not forget the distress they caused me for a long fucking time, and the only way for me to let this go is to say my piece. So there. Done. Let that be the end of it.)

Having this hindsight, I feel comfortable coming back. I’m still very touched by everyone’s support, which in the end was louder than the harassment. I also think it’s important for people who care about fighting racism in any community not to run at the first sign of trouble, which I did, and I feel pretty sorry for.

That’s the gist of things. If you’ve read all of this, thank you for doing so!

*I was going to add a paragraph about halfmoth-halfman’s situation but decided against it. For one thing, she wants to be left alone, and for another, talking about the experiences of fans of color, particularly black fans, deserves its own post separate from my white experience, if I should even post about it at all.

[and-claudia]

Against All Odds pt. 12 (Joel Miller x fem! reader)

General Warnings for later on: The main story will have an age gap between Joel and the reader (Reader will be 25 once we get to the main storyline), this will also be your warning that it will eventually be an x pregnant reader (if that’s not your jam, I’m sorry) there is also going to be more graphic/trigger parts later on so please always to be sure to read the warnings BEFORE reading. This story will also be 18+ and TO BE ON THE TAGLIST YOU CAN NOT BE AN AGELESS BLOG (i do actually check that) also there first hand full of parts are all prologue so Joel won’t actually be in it for a bit

warnings for this part: mentions of suicide, mentions of coming out (it's not all super heavy, I promise!!)

ALSO!!! I am making a decision that kinda contradicts an earlier part... I am adding this note so you know, earlier I was going off Joel's age based off the show, I am now changing it to be his age in the game just to make a few things work a little better... SORRY FOR ANY CONFUSION!!!!!!!

word count: 2800+

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gif not mine

Ellie’s PoV 

Once I was sure Yn was out of earshot, I turned to Joel. 

“I want to talk about what happens after we find your brother in Wyoming.” I said seriously. 

He gave me a weird look, “Okay…” 

I took a deep breath before starting, “What’s your plan for me once we get there?” 

“Well… Marleen didn’t exactly give us the address of where you were going. So I was gonna ask Tommy if he knew where those Fireflies might be. Get you there… then… I don’t know. Timeline really depends on how long we’re out here, how close Yn is to havin’ the baby.” He explained. 

I nodded and was quiet for a moment. 

“What if I don’t want to go to Fireflies…” I asked quietly. 

“Do you not want to?” Joel asked. 

I took a deep breath, “I don’t know…I didn’t want to tell Yn because I don’t want it to stress her out in any way since she’s already pregnant… but I don’t think I want to find the Fireflies anymore…” I watched him to gauge his reaction, but he gave none, “It’s just… I’ve been told I am special, that I am the key to the cure… but I don’t think I am… not anymore. I tried to save Sam… it didn’t work. If I can’t save one person, how am I expected to save thousands?” 

I paused. 

“And I know this sounds selfish, and I know I am not anything really to either of you, but I don’t want to leave you two behind… you three behind. I want to be here when Yn has the baby and watch it grow into a tiny person.” 

I looked at him, trying to fight the tears brimming in my eyes. All I could do was give a small nod. 

“That’s not selfish, Ellie. It’s human.” Joel said after a moment, “Yn and I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. And you don’t have to decide anything right now. Trust me, we will have plenty of time before now and Wyoming for you to think and make up your mind.” 

I nodded before whispering, “Thank you, Joel. For everything.” 

He only nodded back, “Go get some rest. I’ll nudge you in a couple of hours to take a watch shift.” he said, nodding off to where Yn had fallen asleep against a tree. 

I nodded and stood up. My mind was still reeling with what the hell I wanted to do. But Joel was right, nothing needed to be decided tonight. We were still far away from Wyoming, I would have plenty of time to decide by then… right? 

Yn’s PoV

The following days were fairly uneventful. We walked for hours on end and would rest at night. The sun was setting on our fifth day of straight walking. To say that my feet hurt would be a severe understatement. Joel had said something to me the other day about how I should start showing here soon since I was around 15 weeks now, but currently, the only getting bigger were my feet. I tried not to say anything, though, because I knew their feet must be getting sore, too. But every step we took sent a jolt of pain up my leg. 

“Shouldn’t we stop soon?” I asked. 

“Eh, the sun’s just now starting to set. We can probably go another hour.” Joel said.

He was a few paces ahead of me when he said it, so he couldn’t see the sour face I made… but Ellie did. 

“You okay?” She asked quietly. 

“Hm? Yeah, fine.” I said. 

She nodded before speeding up to be in step with Joel. 

“Damn it, Ellie.” I mumbled to myself as I watched her talk to Joel. 

They both stopped walking, which allowed me to catch up with them. 

“On second thought, let's just stop for the night. This is a decent clearing. There’s a creek nearby to get some water from. We can stay here for the night.” He said. 

“Joel, I’m fine. Let’s go another hour, then stop. It’ll let us get another mile or so under our belt.” I said. 

He said nothing but glanced down to where I had undone my boots earlier. They were completely undone to where they would come off, but they were clearly loosened. 

“Why’re your boots undone?” He asked, standing with his hands on his hips. 

“Forgot to relace them… pregnancy brain. Let’s go. We’re losing daylight.” I said. 

“Nope, sit.” He nodded to a large rock beside a tree. 

I sighed and did as he said. He followed me over and squatted down in front of me. Once I was sitting, he began undoing my boots. I winced slightly as he pulled the first one off. 

“M’sorry.” He said, grabbing the second one and sliding it off gently. 

“How long have they been like this?” He asked. 

“Started about halfway through the day yesterday. I didn’t want to say anything and slow us down.” I explained. 

“You need to speak up when you’re in pain. We’re not traveling tomorrow. We’ll take a day to rest.” He said. 

“No, I don’t want to slow us down.” I tried to argue. 

“Not resting will slow us down even more. Tomorrow, I want you on your feet as little as possible, okay?” He said. 

I nodded, “Can you go fill my water for me?” I asked, leaning over to grab it out of my pack that I had dropped beside me. 

“Yeah. Ellie, give me your water, I’ll go fill them. When I get back, I’ll set a trap to try and get us some dinner.” Joel said, standing up and walking over to her. 

Once he was gone, Ellie came over and sat down beside me on the ground. 

“You didn’t have to say anything to Joel, you know.” I said. 

I wasn’t actually mad at her in any way; I was more just frustrated with myself for being the reason why we were taking a break. Deep down, I knew it was out of my control, but it still didn’t help make me feel any better about it. 

“I know. But I also know you weren’t going to. Plus, I could tell you were in pain.” She said. 

“Thank you… sorry that I’m slowing us down.” I said. 

“Eh, it’s not your fault, it’s the rugrat’s.” She said, making me smile. 

“I guess you’re right. I just want to make sure we can get you to the Fireflies as soon as possible. I don’t know if they’re on a timeline or something.” I explained.

I noticed that she stiffened up slightly at the mention of the Fireflies. 

She let out a nervous laugh, “About that… I talked to Joel a few nights ago… I am having second thoughts on finding them.” She said, looking at me clearly trying to watch for my reaction. 

“Okay… any particular reason why?” I asked. 

“I am not certain that I am the cure… I just don’t know if it’s worth leaving you and Joel… and the baby for something that’s not a guarantee. And I know I at least want to stay with you until the baby gets here… but then thinking about leaving after that doesn’t feel right either. I just don’t know what to do. I told Joel that part of me feels guilty for even considering staying because I could be potentially saving thousands… but I may not even be the cure.” 

“That’s a decision only you can make, Ellie. But it doesn’t have to be soon. We’ll have plenty of time before we even get to Wyoming. Only you know what is best for you… I will say that I would love to have you here when I have the baby. I want them to meet you for sure. But if and when the time comes that you decide to go find the Fireflies, I won’t hold you back. I’ll support you in any decision you make. Come here.” I said, scooting over to make room for her on the rock. 

She got up and sat beside me. I hugged her to my side. 

“Thank you.” She said. 

I only nodded. 

“You know, you’re pretty good at the whole mom thing.” She said suddenly, making me look at her. 

“What?” 

“I don’t know… you just have something that makes me feel like I can share anything with you… like I don’t have to hide anything.” She explained. 

“Well, I’m glad. And you really can tell me anything.” I said.

“Okay, well… do you remember how y’all mentioned a boyfriend when asking if anyone would come looking for me?” 

“Yeah.” I nodded for her to continue. 

“Well, truth is, I’ve never had a boyfriend… and I honestly don’t see myself ever having a boyfriend. If you know what I mean…” She said, glancing over at me. 

“I get what you mean.” I said, smiling and nodding. 

“You’re okay with that?” She asked, almost shocked. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? You’re not the first gay person I’ve met.” I said with a small laugh. 

She nodded as she let out a breath, “Do you think Joel will be okay with it?” She asked. 

“Oh yeah.” 

“Really, even at his age?” She asked, making us both laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Joel asked as he walked back up with our water canteens filled. 

“Nothing.” Ellie said. 

“Okay…” He said, clearly not convinced, “I am going to go try and trap something for dinner.” 

He collected some supplies before heading off once again. 

“So… if there wasn’t a boyfriend, has there ever been a girlfriend? Sorry if that’s too personal, just curious about your life before all of this.” 

She hesitated, and I was scared that I had crossed the line. But then she began to speak. 

“I don’t know if I would call her a girlfriend… but there was a girl I liked… Riley.” 

The way she said told me everything I needed to know at that moment. Riley was dead, and she clearly wasn’t over it yet. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” I shook my head, “You don’t have to talk about if you’re not ready. I get it. I lost the last of my brothers years ago, and I still don’t like talking about it. It’s okay.” I said, hugging her close once again. 

“I miss her… does that ever go away?” She asked. 

I shook my head sadly, “No… it gets easier. Eventually, you get to where you don’t even think about it anymore until something reminds you of them, then hurts again, not as bad as it originally did, but still hurts. Then again, you eventually stop thinking about it until you get reminded again. It hurts, but it's even less than last time. And it continues. It always hurts just a little bit.” I explained the best I could. 

She nodded. 

“Whatever happened though, it wasn’t your fault… and neither was Sam.” She snapped her head to look at me, “I don’t know what happened with you and him, but Joel mentioned you tried to save him, and it didn’t work… that’s not your fault. I know it’s hard, but don’t blame yourself. And trust me, I know that’s easier said than done. Hell, it’s been over ten years, and I still blame myself for my brother’s death…” 

“What happened?” She asked. 

“He hung himself… I am the one who found him. He had just done it. I tried to cut him down. I just wasn’t fast enough… My father blamed me for it until the day he died… and I still carry that with me. Like I said, the pain never fully goes away…” 

“How old were you?” She asked. 

“Doesn’t matter… no one should have to experience that… I was younger than you were.” I said, staring off. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t pry.” She said. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll share more about my brothers later if you want. Some of the better memories.” I offered, and she smiled. 

“I’d like that. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have siblings, even just one.” She said. 

I couldn’t help but think about how if she chose to stay, then she would definitely be getting one. Although I wasn’t much older than her, just around ten years, I could see her becoming like a daughter to me. And I had a feeling the same was happening to Joel. 

small time jump

Within the next three days, we finally found ourselves entering Nebraska. We hadn’t gotten the chance to clean up in a while because the creekbeds were too low, so when Joel informed us of a creek that was deep enough to rinse off in, I was overjoyed. 

“You two go ahead and go. I’ll try to trap a rabbit or something.” Ellie said, nodding us off towards the creek. 

Joel had recently shown her how to trap things, and she actually gotten pretty good in the couple of days she’s been practicing. 

As we walked, I turned to Joel, “As much as I love you, I have only one thing on my mind, and that is to scrub the grime off of me and go sit down and get off my feet.” I said, making my intentions clear. 

“Got it. Give me your clothes, and I’ll rinse them with mine.” He said as we got to the creek. 

I nodded as I slipped my boots off and then peeled my socks off of my feet. The ground beneath me was cool to the touch and felt like heaven against my swollen feet. I finished getting undressed, tossing my clothes over to Joel, and soon I was in the cool water. 

As great as it felt, I was soon getting out and getting my “clean” clothes from Joel. Once again, I was forgoing putting my bra back on for the night and was just about to pull my shirt over my head when Joel stopped me. 

“Hey, wait, turn back around.” He called out to me. 

I turned to face him, “What?” I asked, confused. 

“Just turn to the side again…” He said, staring at me intently. 

“What?” 

“Just do it, please.” He wasn’t being pushy. Instead, he seemed oddly curious. 

I did it and looked at him expectantly. 

“When did that show up?” He asked, in slight awe. 

“What?” I asked, confused. 

“That.” He emphasized, nodding to my stomach. 

“Joel, it’s nothing. I’m just a little bloated. I don’t think it’s what you think it is.” I said. 

“I don’t think so… no offense, but we haven’t really eaten anything that would be making you bloated. I think you’re starting to show.” 

I honestly hadn’t really considered that as a possibility. My mind just jumped to it being bloated. 

“Really?” I asked, looking down, it was just barely there, but there was definitely a small bump forming. 

“I mean, I’m no doctor, but that’s what it looks like to me. Here, come sit while I rinse off, and we can talk about it more afterward, okay? I’ll be quick.” He promised, standing up and beginning to undress. 

Once he was done, he rinsed our old clothes, and we began walking back to our camp. Ellie had managed to catch two squirrels that Joel quickly prepared and began cooking. Then he came and sat by me. 

“Sorry if I made you self-conscious or anything… I just wasn’t really prepared for this part of all of it.” He explained. 

“Were you not…” I trailed off, knowing that his daughter was a touchy subject for him. 

He shook his head, “No, her mom and I were like an on-again-off-again type of thing. Then, at some point, we were off again for a while, and then she showed up at my door out of nowhere with a baby. She was gone the next morning. So, I am a little inexperienced in this part of things… I do vaguely remember my mom being pregnant with Tommy, but that’s about it.” He said with a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood from when he started talking. 

“Well, you got more than I do. I was the youngest, so…” I said, and he nodded. 

“Also, you really remember your mom being pregnant with Tommy… that was so long ago…” I teased. 

“I am only 52. I’m not that old, you know.” He shot back, nudging me with his shoulder. 

“I know, I just like giving you shit.” I said, looking over at him with a smile. 

“You’re lucky I love you. You know that, right?” He said. 

“Yeah, I know. I love you too.” I said, leaning over to kiss him. 

“You better not be letting those squirrels burn.” Ellie’s voice made me jump slightly. 

“They’re not.” Joel said, rolling his eyes, though he wasn’t really upset. 

He finished cooking them before dividing up the small amount of meat from them to all of us. After we ate, we settled in for the night. We had one more day of traveling before we would rest for a day. It was slow progress, but it would work. I knew the cold would set in soon, and the cool breeze that blew through the trees just as the thought crossed my mind only confirmed that. 

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[collinrobinsonsglasses]

Too Soft to Be a Pirate

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

I have never written fan fiction before, but over the past few weeks these amazing blogs have been absolutely keeping me fed:

@raggedy-dxctor @run-me-through-but-not-like-that @stedefxckingbonnet @dragon-kazansky @gonzo-rella @izzyhandswhore @seafoam-inserts @hard-to-be-the-bard @brwnicons

Thank you all for your amazing stories and for your inspiration. I figured I would give this a shot. I am hoping this is going to be a series. I really am writing it for myself and if someone else likes it too that's a win. It's a slow burn. The slowest burn of all time.

{Masterlist}

{Next Chapter}

Summary: The story of how you end up in Blackbeard's crew.

Chapter 1: Little Mouse

You stood on the quarterdeck, your arms resting against the weathered wooden railing of the ship as you gazed out at the vast expanse of the sea. The rhythmic dance of the waves was a peaceful distraction from the anxiety that had weighed on your chest all week. You had followed your best friend to a life on the sea, and along the way, you had fallen for him. You thought he had fallen for you too. As the moon hung low in the night sky, casting its gentle glow over the ship, your mind couldn't help but wander to the tender moment you and your best friend shared your first kiss under the same moon. But now, you could see he was falling for someone else on the ship, and the pain was like a storm surging within you.

He had barely spoken to you all week, despite living on the same ship. It’s hard to avoid someone on a ship unless you’re really trying to. Your loyalty to him and the promise you made to stand by his side kept you here. You actually grew to love a life on the sea, but it was tearing your heart apart to watch the person you loved fall for someone else.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the figure approaching from behind until a strong hand gently rested on your shoulder. For a second, perhaps out of pure habit, you felt your stomach fill with butterflies at the sight of him. But reality came crashing back, a cold pit settling in your stomach as you remembered why you were out here alone in the first place.

"Hey," he said stoically, "I've been looking for you." 

“That’s a surprise”, you shot back, before taking a deep breath to regain your composure. 

As the moon ascended, casting a cool, silver glow over the ship, your best friend's gaze settled on you. You could sense the frustration in his eyes as he took a deep breath, preparing to speak.

"Listen," he began, his voice a mixture of regret and pain. "I think you realize I’ve found someone else, and it's difficult when you both are here” His voice hardened, and he continued, "They mean the world to me, and I don't think it's fair to anyone involved for you to stay on this ship. I need to see where this goes, and it can't happen with you constantly by my side."

You reluctantly tore your gaze away from your friend, tears welling up in your eyes. His words stung, but deep down, you knew he was right. This ship, once a safe place, no longer felt like home. In a soft voice, you whispered, "I’ll leave at the next port we dock in, I’ll find a new ship"

As if acknowledging the weight of your decision, his strong arms enveloped you.. You leaned into the hug, your eyes closing as you sought safety in the warmth of his embrace, as you were so accustomed to doing. You felt his breath against your ear as he whispered “That’s not soon enough. I’m sorry, but you’re getting off the ship now”. The arms that were gently holding you wrapped tightly against your waist, squeezing the wind from your stomach, as he hurled you towards the edge of the ship. As you tumbled backward, his whispered words still echoing in your ear, the sea greedily welcomed you. The waves wrapped around you, their embrace tinged with the sting of saltwater, and you descended into the depths of the ocean.

The next moments were a blur. Amidst the crashing waves, you remember fighting the tumultuous current and trying to keep your head above water. After a while it was impossible to tell how long you’d been treading water. It felt like hours. Before you could truly process what was happening you felt your body being lifted into a dinghy. The next few moments were hazy and felt like flashes, 

Your eyes fluttered open to find two formidable pirates peering down at you. One of the men had a long white beard, but what drew your attention the most were the gentle depth of his eyes. Soft and understanding, they betrayed a kindness, immediately putting you at ease. The second man had sharp, calculating eyes, locking onto you with an intensity. 

“Ivan. Look what I found when trying to catch some fishies” the man with the beard exclaimed. You slowly sat up on a large ship, adorned with black sails. You noticed the ship was empty on deck, except for the two men still staring at you. 

“Izzy is not going to like that you brought them aboard” Ivan remarked with a hint of concern in his voice. 

"I am so sorry if I’ve caused you any trouble, Thank you for helping me" you murmured apologetically, still trying to process what was happening. As your body realized it was on solid land, no longer at the will of the sea, exhaustion overtook you. Your eyes began to close as strong arms wrapped around you once again and the quiet sound of the continuing conversation between the two men lulled you to sleep. 

When you awoke again, you found yourself nestled behind some barrels and quickly assessed that you were likely in the galley. Your clothes had dried and you were wrapped in tattered blankets. Eventually, the two familiar faces from the previous night greeted you. They introduced themselves as Ivan and Fang. They handed you a few pieces of bread and a cup of water before beginning to speak.

“We’re keeping you here until we figure out what to do with you” explained Ivan. “Fang is worried that Izzy is going to throw you right back into the ocean if he finds out you’re here”. 

“Okay” you whispered. Not having the energy to ask any follow up questions. You felt numb and shrunk back against the barrels wanting to feel as small as possible. As the men stood up to leave you grabbed both of their hands and thanked them again. Lost in your thoughts, you failed to observe the softening of Fang and Ivan's expressions at the gentle squeeze of their hands. 

These interactions continued over the next few days, with both Ivan and Fang stopping in to bring you food. There wasn’t a lot of conversation exchanged between the three of you. You admired how both the men seemed to look out for each other and now for you, for some reason. 

Two days passed, then one night Fang slipped into the galley, maneuvering behind the barrels to join you. “You mind if I sit here with you?” he asked gently, “Captain is playing knife parade again. I don’t like that game”. 

"Please do," you said, shifting to make space for him to sit. "What's a Knife Parade?"

“Oh, it’s a game where the Captain chases you around the ship with a knife, screaming that he’s going to kill you,” Fang explained matter-of-factly, but you could sense the fear in his eyes. 

“That’s terrifying” you frowned, squeezing Fang’s hand. “I would be hiding back here too”.

Fang flashed a smile, then playfully bumped his shoulder into yours. "I knew it was a good idea keeping you on the ship. You seemed too innocent and helpless to leave behind”

"I feel like that's not a positive thing," you chuckled, exchanging a smile with Fang.

 “I think it is. I knew you wouldn’t be a threat", he said back to you gently. “You’re too nice to be a pirate”

"I could say the same thing about you," you began, but your words were cut short by the abrupt sound of the galley door being flung open.

"Fang! Your Captain is looking for you," a gruff voice called out, interrupting the moment, and the man's eyes narrowed as he spotted both of you sitting on the floor. "What the fuck is this?"

Fang swiftly rose to his feet, his demeanor taking on a more rigid stance under the scrutiny of the man. You, too, slowly stood up to meet the intimidating figure before you. He wasn't overly tall, but still taller than you. He wore leather trousers and a leather waistcoat. His green eyes were piercing into you. Despite the fear you were feeling, you couldn’t help but notice the striking handsomeness etched into his features. 

"I found them tossed overboard, boss. They weren't going to last much longer," Fang explained.

The man scrutinized you, assessing your perceived threat level. "You know the rules, Fang. Blackbeard doesn’t allow pets on board," he sneered, casting a mocking smirk in your direction.

"Blackbeard?" you whispered in disbelief as the man seized you by the arm, forcefully pulling you away from the safety of the galley.

“How the fuck did you not know whose ship you’re on. I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be that clueless” he muttered, casting a disdainful look at you. 

The next few moments you were being pulled across the length of the ship with Fang following closely behind. Ivan's nervous gaze caught your attention, but you averted your eyes quickly, not wanting to draw him into the unfolding scene. The captain's cabin door was forced open abruptly, and your body was forcefully yanked to the ground. You gathered you had finally met Izzy. It became clear why Fang and Ivan had been hiding you from him. 

“Look at what I found, Captain,” the man said smugly. “Fang was hiding a little mouse below deck. Sneaking them food”. You shot a glare at the man who had forcefully brought you to your knees.

The imposing figure standing before you was a tall man with piercing brown eyes, tan skin, a long curly beard that added an air of ruggedness to his presence. His long salt and pepper hair cascaded down, framing his face. Like the rest of his crew, he was dressed in dark colors, and the unmistakable gleam of a gun and a knife at his side hinted at the formidable reputation he carried. Blackbeard looked you up and down with a measured curiosity before speaking. "Leave us," he commanded sternly, then, directing his attention at Fang, mumbled, "I'll deal with you later."

“Captain,” Izzy said with a condescending tone, “Do you think that’s wise?” 

“Izzy. They’re fucking tiny. What do you think they’re going to do?” Blackbeard scoffed, rolling his eyes at his first mate. 

Izzy left in a huff, and Fang trailed behind him. As Fang closed the Captain’s door he cast a pleading look at you, his eyes betraying his worry about what was going to happen. The knot in your stomach tightened at his look of concern. 

As the door shut, leaving both of you alone, you noticed Blackbeard's face soften. He reached out his hand to you. "Here," he whispered, lifting you to your feet. "Sit down, little mouse," he said, guiding you to a chair in front of his desk. Blackbeard's eyebrows furrowed, and he stared at you for a while, as if formulating a plan for what to do next. “Have you worked on a ship before?” he asked. 

“Yessir,” you answered quickly, “For a couple of years”. 

"Do you fall off ships pretty often?" Blackbeard asked, raising his eyebrows and giving you a sarcastic smirk.

As you allowed yourself to finally think about the event that brought you to this point, the emotions you had been suppressing for the past few days began to overflow. Tears started streaming down your face, and you hurriedly tried to wipe them away. “Um”, you stammered, “I didn’t exactly fall. I got pushed off the ship”. 

"What could you have possibly done to deserve that?" Blackbeard asked, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity.

You gave up trying to wipe your tears, your voice shaky as you continued. "My friend knew about my feelings for him, but he started seeing someone else. I guess he wanted me off the ship as quickly as possible, so he pushed me overboard."

“Shit” he muttered, lips pursed, squinting in contemplation. "You got dumped... quite literally, right off the ship." He glanced down, noticing your distress, and knelt beside you, gently patting your hands that rested on your lap. "Breakups can be rough, mate. I once had a guy stab me after I broke up with him," Blackbeard chuckled, “Calico Jack”, his eyes glancing away as if lost in that particular memory. “Luckily, he missed all the important bits”

Blackbeard stood back up in front of you and walked back around behind his desk, his eyes glancing off, like he was in deep contemplation. "Iz would probably want me to throw you back overboard to teach Fang a lesson. That would be the usual," Blackbeard mused. “But we’ve lost quite a number of our crew in raids lately though and I’ll be honest, I’m tired of the usual. It’s fucking boring.” 

You looked at Blackbeard curiously as he mulled over different ideas. This wasn’t the pirate you had envisioned from the stories you had heard during your time at sea. He was more charming than you expected him to be, yet you sensed how quickly he shifted from one emotion to the next. He seemed tired and disillusioned with the life of a pirate. . 

"You can join the crew, little mouse," Blackbeard said decisively, a smug grin accompanying his words. "I need you to do me a favor. First mate Hands is going to be waiting outside those doors for my decision. I need you to tell him something for me."

You exited the Captain’s cabin and found the first mate exactly where Blackbeard predicted he would be. “First mate Hands?” you said cautiously, “Blackbeard wanted me to tell you that I’m the newest member of the crew, and it’s your job to keep me alive, Captain’s orders”. 

The first mate glared at you with a look of disdain. “Fucking twat”, he muttered, heading back into the cabin you had just left.

You locked eyes with Fang and Ivan on the deck, and gave them a small grin. You rushed over to them. “The captain said I could stay,” you said with relief. 

Fang and Ivan visibly relaxed, and Fang gave your arm a playful nudge. "Well, look at that—the friendliest pirate on the seven seas," he remarked with a grin.

{Next Chapter}

[e-dubbc11]

Trust Your Gut

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of rohypnol (date rape drug), fluff, smooches, mention of a little violence

Word Count: 2.7K-ish

Summary: You keep seeing a very handsome stranger every Friday at happy hour with your work friends. He saves you from a potential dangerous situation

A/N: Miss me? 🤣 I had a lovely vacation, didn’t really look forward to going back to work but I’m happy to be back to writing. And if there’s anything you’d like to see from me, don’t hesitate to send something to my inbox. Come say hi! ♥️ So anyway, I saw a prompt on the blog @creativepromptsforwriting and I wanted to use it. #1061 - “I have wanted to kiss you every time I’ve seen you smile.” “Then why haven’t you yet?”

Oh and I make mention of Tyler Durden, Brad Pitt’s character in Fight Club. If you haven’t seen it, what are you waiting for…it’s classic!

Not much else to say except I hope you like it! ♥️

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Before you had even set one foot into the bar today, you felt his presence.

That gut feeling you had all day while you were at work, a combination of butterflies and knots danced and twisted around in your stomach as you kept glancing at the time, waiting for the moment you could clock out so you could go and meet your friends for your usual Friday after-work drink.

For the past month, you had noticed him. The way his long dexterous fingers wrapped around the glass of bourbon, the way his throat moved up and down as the amber liquid trickled down his throat, and the clenching of his teeth as his drink hit his stomach.

He was so handsome, mysterious, and sexy as fuck. His eyes looked like two pieces of onyx that shined when the dim lights of the bar hit them just right and you tried your hardest not to seem like you were staring at him but he probably knew you were.

Every woman in that place stared at him. How could they not? Between his handsome face, the fancy suit and tie, those eyes you could get lost in, and a smile that made you weak in the knees, you were irresistibly drawn to him. He could have his pick of any woman but you were surprised that every woman that threw themselves at him, he turned them all down.

Why?

Actually, you didn’t care why he turned them down. You only cared that he did turn them down and you didn’t have to watch him leave with someone that wasn’t you but you were too shy to even think of speaking to someone of his caliber.

All of those thoughts disappeared as soon as you saw your friends waiting for you. You were there to have a good time with them, not to gawk at the handsome man in the fancy suit. They had saved you a seat and it happened to be near Mr. Fancy Pants’ table.

Your gut never lied; he was there already.

He was drinking with a few other guys also dressed in fancy suits. Your heart jumped from your chest into your throat and you managed to catch a glimpse of him before he could return your gaze although he probably didn’t even look away from his friends.

“I’m bringing someone for you next week, y/n.” Your friend Jenna said.

Your mind was somewhere else and you were staring off into space so you didn’t exactly hear her.

“What?” You replied.

She glared at you, pointed and asked, “You didn’t pay attention to a word I just said, did you.”

You felt bad and apologized.

“I’m sorry, Jenna. I guess I’m a little distracted.” You replied.

Every woman in the bar had a crush on Mr. Fancy Pants, but you didn’t let it show that you did too. It was difficult but you acted like he wasn’t even there. If there was a way for you to become invisible so no one would see you ogling him, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Stolen glances would have to do…for now.

**********

The following Friday, your standing date with your friends was rapidly approaching and you were nervous about the guy Jenna said she was bringing for you. She said his name is Tyler and he is a personal trainer/boxer at the gym that she and her husband go to. Every time you heard the name “Tyler,” two words popped into your head…Fight Club.

“…And could you try not to mention Fight Club when you meet him? I knew exactly what you were thinking when I told you his name was Tyler.” Said Jenna.

You shrugged and said, “Ok, but you know that happens when I get nervous. I just start quoting movies or blurt out song lyrics. I can’t help it. It’s who I am.” You said with a slight chuckle and batting your eyelashes.

It almost sounded like Jenna didn’t want you to be yourself but she wanted you to be someone else when talking to Tyler but you would try to keep your movie quotes to a minimum, although you couldn’t make any guarantees.

He was nice enough, good looking, and seemed like he enjoyed his job. But he was a little full of himself, dull and didn’t seem like the brightest crayon in the box, nothing like the real object of your affection, Suit & Tie. Everyone in the room was drawn to him.

Without saying a word, he commanded your attention and always seemed in charge of everything. That kind of power over people turned you on, it sent a restless shiver down your spine, and a sudden warmth brushed across your cheeks.

Your blind date, however, droned on and on about the gym, his clients, some of them famous people, which didn’t impress you in the slightest. Your mind wandered, thinking about if Suit & Tie’s taste in bourbon was impeccable like his taste in suits.

Your desire to taste the bourbon on his lips kept getting stronger with every sip he took. The words coming out of Tyler’s mouth were not registering and it sounded like he was speaking underwater. That’s how little you were paying attention to what he was saying.

There was something about Tyler that wasn’t sitting right with you, though. He put out kind of a weird vibe but you couldn’t put your finger on exactly what it could be. Your intuition has never betrayed you before and you didn’t think it would start now.

Setting your empty glass onto the bar, you told Tyler you needed to use the ladies’ room and said you would order another beer when you got back. Emerging from the bathroom, you were startled to see who was standing in front of you. Mr. Fancy Pants. Your stomach lurched upward toward your throat before settling back down and he wasted no time starting the conversation.

“You have a date tonight, I see.” He said softly with a warm smile.

He noticed that he scared you.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized and extended his hand for you to shake. “Billy Russo…nice to meet you.”

Shaking his hand, you replied, “OH! I’m y/n, it’s really nice to meet you Billy. And yeah it’s—it’s a blind date.”

Billy moved in closer, caging you in against the wall down the long and narrow hallway. The scent of his spicy cologne floated past your nose and he placed his hand against the wall just above your head. He was even more handsome up close.

“Do you like him?” He asked in a serious tone as the line of his mouth tightened a fraction more.

Not really knowing how to respond, you stumbled over your words at first but managed to pull yourself together long enough to answer him.

“Oh…well…I dunno,” You had started to say. “Actually…I feel like there’s just something off about Tyler but I don’t know what it is.” You whispered.

Billy’s endless brown eyes stared into yours. He looked…angry but you weren’t frightened.

“You felt that, huh?” He replied.

Nervously, you nodded.

“Yeah, I felt that too and confirmed it when I saw him slip something into the fresh beer that’s waiting for you on the bar.” He said through clenched teeth.

You covered your mouth in disbelief.

“WHAT?! I purposely didn’t order another beer yet so I could watch it being poured.” You asked in a scared tone.

“Look, I know you don’t know me but I don’t want anything to happen to you because, well…I” Billy trailed off. “Do you trust me?”

Strangely enough, you did. You trusted him like you’ve known him for years.

“Y-yes, I do…Billy.” You answered.

The corners of his mouth turned up into a sly smile.

“Good, because I’ve kinda developed a little crush on you in the four weeks I’ve been comin’ in here. I keep suggesting this place to my team, hopin’ I’d get to see you.” He whispered in your ear, his hand still pressed against the wall, and his slight New York accent peeking through.

His words went straight to your core and instantly goosebumps peppered across your skin as the scent of bourbon escaped his lips when he spoke.

“Really?” You asked, shyly.

Biting down on his lower lip, he nodded.

“Well…I may have a little crush on you too.” You said with a slight smile.

Your hands trembled as you reached for his tie. Sliding it through your fingers, you looked up at him through your long dark lashes, desperately wanting him to kiss you and not caring that you just officially met him a few minutes ago.

Billy Russo was the one person in the entire bar that you felt like you could trust wholeheartedly and that included the trust you had in your co-workers and friends. It was hard to explain but everything about him just felt right.

Billy had inched close enough for the two of you to share the same air, causing you to swallow hard before he spoke again.

“I have wanted to kiss you every time I’ve seen you smile.” He said slowly as he grazed your cheek with his knuckles and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, away from your face.

Billy’s lips ghosted over yours as you asked with a smile, “Then why haven’t you yet?”

Flashing that million-dollar smile, he gently cupped your cheeks and drew your face closer to his before his lips were pressed firmly against yours. They tasted like vanilla with a mixture of sweetness and bite as he continued to kiss you a little harder now. Your stomach dropped when his body pressed up against you and your hands migrated to his raven colored hair.

His kisses were even better than you imagined they would be.

Breathlessly, his name fled from your lips as he kissed up and down the side of your neck. You completely lost yourself in the moment before snapping back to reality and remembered about Tyler, your friends, and the fact that no one has been down this hallway since you came out of the ladies’ room.

“Billy…no one’s come down here looking for either one of us.” You said.

He pulled back and said with a devilish grin, “Oh I got a guy at the end of the hallway preventing anyone from coming down here. I didn’t want any interruptions before I could tell you what that asshole did to your drink.”

“Shit…I keep forgetting about that.” You said, pressing your palm to your forehead.

Billy smirked again. “I’ll take that as a compliment, pretty eyes. Have dinner with me.” He commanded.

“Are you requesting or demanding?” You asked with a warm smile.

He leaned in to kiss you again.

“Please?” Asked Billy.

Without any hesitation, you replied, “Well since you asked nicely…yes, I’d love to Mr. Fancy Pants.”

Billy started to laugh.

“Mr. Fancy Pants, huh.” Said Billy.

You shrugged.

“Well, I didn’t know your name so that’s just how I referred to you in my head.” You said with a slight chuckle. “Suit & Tie was another one I used.”

He laughed at that one too.

“Well, I like both of them.” He said.

Just as he finished his sentence, a voice boomed from down the hall.

“Hey Bill!”

Billy yelled back.

“Yeah, what is it Frankie?!”

“You done warnin’ Miss Pretty Eyes about that fuckin’ scumbag yet?! Says he needs to use the bathroom.” He said, his voice dripping with disdain.

You narrowed your eyes slightly as the corners of your mouth curled into a smile.

“Pretty Eyes? You’ve told other people about the nickname, I see.” You said to Billy.

Billy winked at you and replied to his friend.

“Go ahead, Frankie. Let him down here and then you can watch me work!” Yelled Billy, with a devilish grin.

He was breathless with anger. Clenching his teeth, you watched as Billy’s hand balled into a fist until his knuckles shown white. The same knuckles that were gently brushing your cheek a few moments ago were getting ready to connect with Tyler’s face.

“You’re gonna hurt him, aren’t you.” You said nervously; your hands shaking slightly.

Billy kissed you on the forehead and replied, “Tyler’s walkin’ in to his own personal Fight Club. I’m gonna make sure he’ll think twice before doing that to someone else, y/n.”

The reference to Fight Club made you laugh. Movie references randomly popped into your head at any given time. It appeared that they randomly popped into Billy’s head also. This guy just might be your person.

“Ah, you forgot the first rule of Fight Club, Mr. Russo!” You chuckled a little. “So, do you beat people up professionally orrrrr?” You asked sarcastically.

He gave you another wicked smile and said, “We can talk about that at dinner and then you can remind me what the rules of Fight Club are.”

Immediately after he started walking down the hall, Tyler began running his mouth, telling Billy to get away from me, and “hope he’s ready to have his ass kicked.” When he got close, Tyler took a couple swings at him but missed and Billy proceeded to show him what happens to guys who mess with other people’s drinks.

Shoving Tyler out of the back door, Billy bloodied him enough to where you knew he’d never do that to anyone ever again and had the bartender call the police. When they dumped the beer out, there was some white residue along the bottom of the glass.

“Hey, he took swings at me first. I was just defending myself.” Said Billy, after being asked why Tyler’s face looked like a mangled piece of meat.

Bar patrons and Frank had watched Tyler swing first so they corroborated Billy’s story that he was “defending himself” and Jenna apologized for trying to set you up with such a creep. It wasn’t her fault; how could she have known? But she still felt pretty bad about the whole thing.

“I promise, I’ll never try and set you up again. I’m not very good at it, apparently.” She said, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

“Well maybe if this works out, you won’t have to set me up again.” You said.

Watching Billy talk to the police, you felt a sense of relief, and it scared you to think of what would have happened if he wasn’t there. If he wasn’t watching at that exact moment, something terrible could have happened to you.

Billy had finished talking with the cops when you rushed over to him, crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms tightly around his torso. The shock of it all had worn off and you were left thinking about all of the bad things that could have happened.

He was surprised but returned your embrace as tears streaked down your face.

“Hey, hey it’s ok, y/n. It’s ok. You’re safe.” He whispered against the top of your head.

“Thank you, Billy.” You said with a hitch in your voice, trying not to get your tears on his shirt.

You just kept thanking him over and over again. You had to make sure he knew just how grateful you were to him for today.

“I’ll never let anything bad happen to you…pretty eyes. You can trust me.” Said Billy with a slight smile.

His voice was calm and smooth like warm honey. He soothed you and reassured you that you were alright. Billy’s long arms wrapped around you, his body was a warm cradle for yours, and you fit perfectly against him.

“I know I can, Billy. I don’t know how I know…but I do.” You said as the corners of your mouth curled into a shy smile.

Brushing his beard with your thumbs, you leaned in to kiss him again. Instinctively, you knew there was something off about Tyler but at the same time, your gut told you there was something about Billy Russo that fit just right.

You would just have to remember to really listen to that inner voice from now on when it tells you something important, whether it’s bad or very…very…good.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @ittybxttykxttytxtty @mrsbillyrusso @russosafehaven

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[deeplightblue]

Getting off the ship & leaving the restaurant. It’s been a fun ride y’all 😔

I keep thinking about this blind item Deuxmoi published in their June 16 newsletter. Later on when someone asked if it was about N and L they said they didn’t even realize, which I find weird. Now, I think we all know blind items can be sent by anyone on any topic and don’t have to reflect the truth at all. And I definitely don’t believe gossip that I see on DM without a credible source confirming.

So this is probably some troll’s doing and I’m not even going to talk about the N being married part lol. Nothing worth mentioning, actually. But still it resurfaced some thoughts I had.

I truly think N and L loves each other deeply, I don’t believe even the greatest actors could keep playing their characters for months and appear that convincing. Nor do I think they are disingenuous people who will simply fake a friendship for the sake of promo. I’m very confused about the nature of their relationship and whether it’s romantic or platonic, I think even they themselves might be confused on this part, but there is love regardless.

However I cannot help but think L is trying to distance himself from N, at least publicly. I cannot think of any other explanation for the pap pics just a couple of hours after the London premiere. I do not know if it was really him/his team who arranged those pics but if it was them, I think it’s only natural to take it as a “enough with the shipping, I have a gf” slap on fans’ faces. Like, couldn’t you wait for a week maybe?

I saw this being mentioned on some blog here but when you check his insta profile you could hardly tell he was the lead of Bton and co-star of Nic, and mind you it’s only been 3 weeks since part 2 was released. Of course he doesn’t have to share anything but it feels weird him posting his solo endeavors and not the project he put so much effort and time into.

Combined with those pap pics it seems like he is really trying to distance himself from N. But it’s not like there is bad blood between them or anything, we kept seeing them being comfortable and cute around each other until June 12, hours before the premiere. He even mentioned her name in a very silly & sweet manner on Jimmy Fallon. So, what’s the deal?

I think it must be very frustrating to have people read so much into every step you take, so I could understand him in a way. Nobody knows anything about their lives and relationship, we all just speculate and seeing those speculations must be annoying for them. But wouldn’t a simple insta post on how N is his good friend and “buddy” and another post with his gf appear a lot more genuine if shipping is the problem here?

I don’t know. This is my first time doing this with actors and I’ve been in this space for only a month or so, so these are all new to me. I truly believed they were each other’s soulmates and it was enchanting to witness whatever it was going on between them. And if they are just good friends that’s perfect too, I mean how many of us have that kind of connection or chemistry with our “friends”? Good for them!

But sensing his efforts of disassociating his public image from Bton and Nic just breaks my heart. That said, I am officially getting off the ship. I’m leaving the restaurant. My tiny heart cannot take it anymore. Also, it feels disrespectful to L to keep shipping them when it’s clear he doesn’t want that for some reason.

I will love and support both of them separately but I’ll TRY not to post any content about their possible romance. While I cannot promise that I’ll remain faithful to my decision I’ll try my best.

Cheers mfs.

😔

[fereldanwench]

A Personal, and Final, Reflection on A Certain Fandom

Having spent the past week and a half away from the Tumblr side of the C*b*rp*nk community after a resurgence of old wank (not hashing out the details–IYKYK), I heavily weighed the pros and cons of saying anything else. Ultimately, I decided for my own peace of mind and ability to fully move forward, I do want to say a few things (or a lot of things, given how long this is). This blog is my personal archive first and foremost, and I think writing a “final chapter” will help me find closure. I’m also choosing to publish this because, at the risk of sounding presumptuous, I think my mistakes and subsequent revelations might be good learning experiences for others, too. 

Like many of us, just by the nature of when this game was released, I entered this fandom during a very fragile, tumultuous time in my life–Well, sort of, let me back it up a little: I actually initially entered it during a great time in my life. It was July 2021, I had just enjoyed about 6 weeks off from work after quitting a demanding job that had sucked the life out of me for almost 10 years, and I had started a promising new job. I even bought the game with the first paycheck from said new job!

Unfortunately, while I had been told that this position was temp-to-hire, not only was it not a path to a permanent role, but because I completed all the work in my contract over a month sooner than they anticipated (early September vs late October), I was being let go early because they had nothing else for me to work on. I was literally told over the phone, “You did amazing work, you got us caught up through November, but we don’t have anything else for you.”

Cue about 6 months of recruiters ghosting me, exhausting interview processes, demoralizing rejections, and scam upon scam upon scam, all culminating in me returning to the job I had been so happy to leave a year earlier. And while my old coworkers were ecstatic to have me back, I couldn’t help but feel like a complete failure. I took what I thought was a calculated risk, I thought I could do something better for myself, and I couldn’t. It’s something I’m still struggling with today, honestly.

On top of this, I also experienced a debilitating physical health episode in January 2022 which led to me being effectively bedridden for about 3 weeks. [CW: Menstruation, sexual health] I’m not sure of the exact cause–maybe a bad reaction to emergency contraception, maybe unsafe menstrual underwear, but it resulted in menorrhagia so severe I fainted from blood loss. My insurance had literally just ended, another wave of COVID was hitting, and I didn’t want to risk getting infected sitting in an ER for hours only to rack up a few thousand in debt to get a blood transfusion. So rest, iron supplements, and lots of meat and spinach and orange juice was the best I could do.

All of this led to my world becoming very small. I wasn’t working, I could barely do my hobbies or see my local friends, and simple everyday tasks like showering drained me of all my energy. When I was stuck in bed and could barely keep my eyes open for more than a few hours at a time, gossip was a welcome, low-effort distraction from the physical pain and fear that I might either have to put myself in thousands of dollars of medical debt or risk lifelong damage (or worse) from the blood loss.

I also found myself having groups of friends in a way I’ve never experienced before. I’m extremely introverted (even online, though less so than IRL), I have social anxiety, and the handful of times I have been “in” a group I was never really in it. I was always on the outskirts and usually just close to one or two people, max.

Regretfully, this set the stage for me to get caught up in the culture of rumors and speculation that permeates this fandom more than I think it has any other fandom I’ve been a part of.

Academically, I know about things like groupthink and tribalism, and I could see how those influenced the groups developing in the fandom, but I had no direct, personal experience with those phenomena. I think in conjunction with the other struggles I was dealing with, I ended up being incredibly susceptible to an us-versus-them mentality, which led me to feel justified in being unkind to people I knew had been unkind to my friends, even if deep down I knew what I was doing was antithetical to who I strive to be. 

I don’t share any of this for sympathy points or to smear anyone else or to avoid accountability–I still chose to act like an ass on a couple of occasions, and regardless of what I was going through, that was still inappropriate. I’m still responsible for my own behavior no matter what’s going on. 

But I do want to contextualize my fuck-ups for two reasons:

The first reason is ego-driven, full-stop. Not even gonna gloss it over. I can’t defend being an asshole nor do I want to, but I think it’s normal and healthy to look back on your mistakes and go, damn, why the hell was I acting like this? 

Even on my best days, I can be very stubborn and self-important and pedantic and judgemental, and I certainly can’t say that I’ve never inadvertently offended someone–Sometimes a joke might not land as I hoped. Sometimes I get tangled up in my own thoughts, burdened by an excess of nuance and details, and I express things poorly while I try to account for all sides of things. Sometimes I can get a little too opinionated about blorbo stuff. Sometimes there might just be a full communication breakdown or an insurmountable personality clash–But I can also confidently say that I have acted with good intentions in this fandom far, far more than I have with spite or because of petty rivalries.

And when I did get caught up in the drama and gossip and the wank? I was literally at the lowest point I’d been in a very, very long time. 

Again, because I feel like I can’t say this enough, that doesn’t make acting like a dick in a Discord server any more excusable, that doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt anyone, and that doesn’t mean that someone I hurt during that time has to forgive me or stick around for me to grow. Hurting someone because you’re hurting is still not okay. But I’m pretty sure every single one of us has had a bad day (or two or three or 365 or–) and made an isolated bad decision (or two or three or–) because of it–None of us deserve to be wholly defined by those moments or denied a chance to learn from those mistakes and be better.

And I think the most important takeaway for me personally is that I have learned from these mistakes and I have not repeated them. Some of these mistakes even helped me realize that I needed professional support for my mental health, and they played a role in my seeking medication and therapy last year. I still have a lot of work to do, but the silver lining to all of this is that I am in a much better place today than I was 2 years ago (even if this year also fucking sucks for non-fandom reasons and I would still very much like a goddamn break.)

The other reason I wanted to share my journey of navel-gazing and healing a wounded ego ~*self-discovery*~ is I think there’s a very good chance my story might sound familiar to others in the fandom. Maybe someone else can learn from my hardships and mistakes, too. Maybe you too were dealing with chronic fatigue or mental health issues or financial stress or isolation or all of the above and then some, and it led you to fixate on things that were harmful to you, to form unhealthy relationships with equally hurt people, and to act in a way that you know doesn't reflect who you are. The past several years have been so hard on so many of us, and I think we’ve all brought a lot of pain and misery into the community even if we weren’t trying to.

A somewhat shameful realization I had last year was I could recognize that kind of behavior in other people, but I completely missed it in myself. I could see how people were making this fandom their whole world and how it was so damaging to them, but I was doing the exact same thing and I just let it go completely unchecked because I thought I knew better. It was a brutal lesson in the pitfalls of pride. 

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So I was initially thinking at this point, I would take the time to address a few specific lies, rumors, and insinuations that have been said about me over the past couple of years. Because while I was a jerk in a couple of situations, most of the things said about me are exaggerations, if not outright fabrications.

And I did start writing a lot of that out, but as I was doing it, I was just overcome with a huge feeling of OH MY GOD I just don’t fucking care anymore. As one of my dear, long-time fandom friends has pointed out, there’s a great line about just this kind of thing from one of my favorite characters in one of my favorite games: “Why should it [bother me]? They don’t know me. I know me.”

I also really don’t want to run the risk of pulling anyone back into the fray (especially if they’re not even in the fandom anymore or if we’ve talked privately about certain issues) by even alluding to shit that happened years ago.

Instead, I would like to offer three of my big takeaways from the experience of being falsely accused of awful things:

You do not know nearly as much as you think you know about people’s fandom relationships. The one semi-specific thing I will mention is that I had been explicitly named a few times as being in cahoots with people I don’t think I ever even spoke to or that I had already drifted away from–Just because you saw two people existing in the same public space doesn’t mean they’re besties, bestie. Also, friends don’t always have to agree with each other, nor should we be expected to participate in a public spectacle of shaming if we do have a disagreement. People are allowed to resolve their differences privately.  

Not all conflicts/disagreements are inherently abusive or toxic. When you are hurting or dealing with unresolved trauma or starting to confront uncomfortable truths about yourself, the slightest disagreement can feel like a personal attack, but that doesn’t mean it is. Sometimes differences might be irreconcilable, but sometimes they might not be if you don’t automatically assume the worst of someone with a different perspective than you. Sometimes we just need to give the other person a little grace and the benefit of the doubt that they’re doing their best. And sometimes we might need to consider that it’s actually our own behavior driving the conflict and not the other person.

Even in situations when someone has clearly been unfairly targeted/victimized, that doesn’t mean they can’t also be a perpetrator of harassment/abuse to someone else. Victim and abuser are not mutually exclusive roles. I would wager a lot of us are familiar with the cyclical nature of abuse, and to quote a line from one of my favorite movies (admittedly a bit of a flippant line in the context of the film, but it still rings true): hurt people hurt people. Accountability for shitty behavior is never conditional, regardless of the pain we’re experiencing. 

--------

I titled this my final reflection, and I want to clarify what that means:

First of all, I’m not leaving this fandom (don’t everyone clap at once ha ha ha). I’ve been in various online fandoms since the early 00s, and while this has been one of the more challenging communities for me to navigate, it’s not enough to make me give up something I love this much. My blorbos are my perpetual muses, and I feel like virtual photography is the creative outlet I’ve been searching for my entire life. I love this game and hobby too much to stop creating and sharing.

I’m also not leaving Tumblr. While I’ve had this specific account since 2016, I’ve been here since 2010–Tumblr is not just this fandom for me. I have many friends (some I’ve known since my original account in 2010!) from other fandoms, and I’m not losing the best place to hang out with other people who are special to me just because one fandom got a little unpleasant. (I mean, look, I weathered the DA fandom here circa 2012-2015–This ain’t my first rodeo.) I also have a lot of hope for the Tumblr Communities feature, and I’m really hoping the VP community we’ve set up can continue to grow and flourish.

But I am no longer addressing any of this wank. If you have a problem with something I’ve done or said to you and you want to address it with me directly (preferably in a private space just so we don’t keep putting this shit on people’s dashboards), I am open to conversation and apologizing where needed.

Otherwise, this is the last time I’m talking about it anywhere. Tumblr, Twitter, Discord, publicly, privately–I’m done. I’m washing my hands of it. I don’t want to hear anything else about what other people have done or who they’re friends with or who they’re following or what they’re saying about me or my friends or any of it. This bullshit has taken up too much of my time and energy, and I have very important smutty shots to take. 

And I am probably going to continue to be less active in the fandom on Tumblr, at least for a while. You probably won’t see me here much until September at the earliest. This time away has been really good for me, and I think I need to continue with limited Tumblring and making the time I am here more structured. Plus, with some of my other fave video game series returning this fall, my blog will probably shift back to a more well-balanced multi-fandom space. 

I’m also going to need to diversify my dash a little bit more, which means I will likely end up unfollowing some mutuals, particularly if we don’t interact often, if you don’t tag, or if I see any mention of fandom drama–It’s nothing personal, but I know breaking mutualship can hurt a little, so if following me after that makes you uncomfortable in any way, please don’t feel like you have to stick around. I totally get it. Similarly, if it would make you uncomfortable for me to continue to interact with your posts after unfollowing (because I probably will if you post in certain tags), please feel free to block me. 

Okay. Christ, that was long. Shut the fuck up already, right? This is why I can't do social media with character limits. ghdfjgjhkfdgkfdg

Seriously, though, that's it. People are welcome to comment on this post if they want, but I really have nothing else to say about any of this so please don’t be offended if I don’t reply. I’m not ignoring you, I’m just… Well, done.

[devildom-moss]

Happy 1 year anniversary to your blog! ❤️

Can I request gn! reader on their first date with Meph in nightbringer

hope you have a great day/night ^^

Thank you for the request. I had so much fun with it that I might have taken longer on it and made it a little longer than I should have. Oh well!

1 year anniversary flash request event - SFW

(Mephistopheles x gn!MC)

Prompt 9 - First date

How did this even happen? Mephisto wondered as he opened his car door for you, taking the opportunity to inconspicuously ogle at you as you got in.

You had taken the initiative and invited him out for a drink. His flustered, wide-eyed face confused you as the words tumbled from his mouth: “A-are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah, that was my intention,” you shrugged.

“Why, I never –! A human of all the –!” Mephisto mumbled to himself.

“What? I think you’re cute.” You furrowed your brows. “Have you never been asked on a date before?”

“I’ve been asked out before; I just never accepted. I’ve never had any interest before.”

“Before? So, you have interest now?”

“I didn’t say that, you impudent human!” Mephisto crossed his arms defensively, heat rising in his cheeks.

“Well, I suppose you might not be an ideal date anyway – due to the lack of experience and what not,” you teased.

“How dare you! I’m a gentleman. I would make an astounding escort –”

“Who said anything about an escort?”

“Escort on a date! Not a – forget it.” Mephisto mumbled. “I’ll pick you up at Cocytus Hall at 7pm tomorrow night. Wear something nice but comfortable!”

With that, he stormed off – just in time to hide the smile that cracked through his indignant façade.

He brought you to a nice restaurant – not quite as upscale as Ristorante Six, but you knew he had called ahead and leveraged his name (perhaps even slipped some money towards the establishment) to get this reservation. Now that you were sitting across from him, with his handsome face and his dignified suit that somehow outshined his god-awful taste in neckwear, you were starting to feel nervous. He picked up on that.

“Relax. You’re the one who asked me out, after all,” Mephisto sounded annoyed, but he stared at you with a reassuring smile. “You look lovely tonight. Just act like your usual, barely-tolerable self, and you’ll be fine. I’m here with you. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you for agreeing to go out with me.” You smiled and let out a sigh of relief. Mephisto cleared his throat to distract from the sudden warmth that flooded his face.

Not too surprisingly, Mephisto was an excellent conversationalist. You were delighted when you actually managed to make him laugh so much that he looked surprised as he tried to quiet his laughter – as if he hadn’t expected you to be so funny, or maybe he hadn’t expected to enjoy your company so much.

After dinner, you expected him to promptly take you home, but instead, he offered you his arm and took you for a walk down the street. You didn’t mind, but you asked him nonetheless, “Where are we going?”

“That’s a surprise. You wouldn’t want to ruin a surprise, now, would you?”

A short but rather relaxing stroll later, Mephisto stopped at a small, almost shady-looking shop. After a wonderful dinner, you decided you owed Mephisto the benefit of the doubt and walked into the shop when he held the door open for you. The shop was filled with (shockingly clean and organized) shelves, each one stacked with intriguing knick-knacks and magical items. You could feel the magic just by walking through the doorway.

Somehow, in response to almost anything that piqued your interest, Mephisto had some kind of insight or background knowledge. And you thought Satan and Solomon were the nerds.

“You’re so knowledgeable,” you admired him. “But what made you think to bring me here?”

“You’re studying under Solomon, aren’t you? I figured the wise sorcerer’s apprentice might appreciate something like this. And I’m not that knowledgeable; I did a write up on this place a few weeks ago. I’m a little disappointed you didn’t have the chance to read it.”

You stifled a laugh at his slight pout. “Still, it looks like you retained a lot of that information. That’s pretty cool.”

Mephisto smiled at your praise. “If something in particular catches your eye, let me know before we leave. I’ll get it for you – and no, it’s not any trouble. I’m happy to provide you with a memento of our date. Consider it a reward for being surprisingly good company.”

“You didn’t have to say ‘surprisingly.’”

Mephisto looked around quickly before leaning in and stealing a quick kiss in the middle of the shop. “Consider that one a reward for the adorably stupid faces you make when you’re annoyed at me.”

“You’re awful,” you lied.

“I know.” Mephisto smirked and stole another kiss from you. This time, he lingered on your lips. “Thank you for asking me out.”

A/N: requests are still open for the rest of today if anyone else wants to enter. (rules here) I probably won't get to all of the SFW requests, but I may be able to finish them up tomorrow or the day after.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week's writer's spotlight feature is: @pearynice! With twenty-eight Stranger Things works, they've written twenty-seven fics tagged with Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson!

Nominated by @hotluncheddie, they recommend the following works by peachesandpears:

Talk to Me

Personally

Starched Collars

In your eyes

they are so lovely and so talented!! so many short and sweet pieces - that so often seem to touch and soft squishy part hidden away within me, put a little bandaid on it <3 - @hotluncheddie

Below the cut, @pearynice answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I’ve always loved the “opposites attract” trope. While Steddie is the first ship I’ve ever seriously written for, in the past this dynamic has always been my go to (ie: destiel lol) but Steddie specifically because I think Stranger Things is a great show with compelling characters, and that Eddie and Steve deserve a happy ending. And for me that happy ending will always have them with each other.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love AUs. Love seeing the little blorbos in as many situations as possible. I love being able to see how writers take what we know about these characters and make it into a whole new story. (But especially a soulmate AU. I loveeee a soulmate AU.)

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I think anyone who follows me can probably guess hurt/ comfort and fluff. I LOVE making these boys suffer and then smooch about it. 

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

AH okay I will scream about this fic until I’m blue in the face (I actually submitted an ask to this blog about it because I think it’s criminally under-viewed!) it’s As the World Falls Down by daeneryske on Ao3. I read this MONTHS ago and I still think about it all the time. It’s long but god I wish it would never end. I want to tattoo it on the inside of my eyelids.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Yes!! I can’t say much because it’s for my Reverse Big Bang but they both contain tropes I’ve never worked with before and I’m so so excited to be writing both of them!!! I’m already having so much fun! And a goal of mine for 2024 is to broaden my writing horizons a little and explore tropes and topics that I haven’t yet, so I don’t really have any specifically in mind but that is my general plan!

What is your writing process like?

Very chaotic. I almost never write an outline. It’s pure vibes baby. And when I DO write an outline I almost never follow it (whoopsie) I feel like as I write the plot comes to me, and outlines tend to pigeon hole me so I can’t get myself out of writing slumps.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Maybe my overuse of italics?  I also don’t really know how to describe it but sometimes when I’m writing heavy action scenes/ emotional scenes I’ll start and stop sentences before they’re complete sentences. Like: “Steve says nothing. Sits down next to his father and looks over his shoulder.” I don’t know if that’s a writing quirk or not lol but that tends to be how I structure my sentences.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Definitely after I’ve finished. Once I’m on a deadline I psych myself out.

Which fic are you most proud of?

That’s such a hard one, because I think I’m proud of a lot of my fics but for very different reasons. I think if I had to choose, I’d pick Blood of the Covenant. It’s one of my more recent fics, and I had toyed around with a Wayne POV fic for such a long time before writing because I wanted to get it right. It was hard to find his voice but I think in the end I executed it well.  

How did you get the idea for Talk to Me?

Well besties I dunno how personal we want to get here, but the inspo for this fic (and tbh a lot of my hurt/ comfort fics) is just based on my own experiences. Growing up my mom did not have the capacity to tend to the thoughts and emotions of her kids, ergo me pushing that shit into a Steddie fic. Obviously what I wrote as Steve’s experience and mine are not directly parallel, but that is how I got the idea.

When writing Starched Collars, what was something you didn’t expect?

That was my first heavy hurt/comfort fic that I wrote, and I remember being really blown away that people could relate so heavily to Steve’s experiences. I remember I had some comments saying that they felt really comforted seeing their own experiences reflected within Steve, and I just never expected my writing to be able provide that for someone. 

What inspired Personally?

Well, again, we’re getting a little personal (babum tss)- but how I wrote Steve’s mom reacting to him mentioning the sunglasses is definitely how my own mom tends to react when I express any kind of negative emotion around her. In this case it was a lost parking stub instead of sunglasses.

What was your favorite part to write from Talk to Me?

The COMFORT- that’s always my favorite part. Making it better! (Although it is also a little fun leaving the angsty cliffhanger- but I will ALWAYS make my fics have a happy ending.) But also I’m a little in love with the idea I had that Eddie likes to rub on Steve’s stomach until he falls asleep. I thought that wrapped up the story very nicely.

How do/did you feel writing Personally?

It was honestly very therapeutic. I don’t think I’ve ever word-vomited out a fic more rapidly than I did for that one. I wrote that in my notes app in one afternoon, read through it once or twice, and posted. It was a relief to get all of that out in writing, and then even better to see that other people found comfort in what I had written. 

What was the most difficult part of writing Starched Collars?

When I was first drafting the fic I was going to have Starched Collars and In Your Eyes (the kinda sorta sequel) be one in the same. I spent a long time trying to balance the two narratives, before I realized it was just too much to fit into one fic. Having both detracted from the other’s story too much, and eventually I had it just focusing on Steve. I think this was the best move but I spent so long trying to strike that balance before I scrapped it.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I don’t know if I can name any one scene or line as explicitly my favorite, but the final scene of Because it’s Steve it’s absolutely a favorite. That whole fic is very special to me because it reflects a lot of my own thoughts/feelings/experiences on being demi, and that final scene is just exactly how I experience my demisexuality. (I’m not sure how long this can be, but I’ll insert the passage here): 

And they’re still in this disgusting bathroom. There’s still a toilet behind Eddie’s knees, but when Steve’s mouth meets his, it doesn’t matter. Because one of Steve’s arms wraps around his middle, his fingers dip into the spaces between his ribs, their chests touch, and it all feels so good. Because it’s Steve. And it’s still Steve who kisses him, still Steve who licks into his mouth, still Steve who nearly sends them both stumbling into the disgusting toilet. And because it’s Steve it’s so funny that Eddie can’t stop laughing, and there’s a blush high on Steve’s cheeks as he tells Eddie to stop it. But then Steve kisses him again. Asks if he wants to go and find Robin and Nancy. If he wants to dance. With him. 

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

YES. So Because it’s Steve is now a series: Demi/Virgin!Eddie, with all of Eddie’s firsts with Steve. This is very smutty but it’s also like, the sappiest, most disgustingly fluffy smut I’ve ever written. I would say it’s “schmoopy” but I was outed as an Old Lady on Discord because apparently no one uses that word anymore. ALSO- and maybe this is still too far away BUT I am working on TWO Reverse Big Bang pieces and… you guys… my artists are so talented and kind and their brains are so big and so far I’ve gotten along with each of them so well and I am already so excited to post these and we’ve only just begun. I cannot wait until we can make our visions into an entire fic!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add? 

YES- whoever nominated me for this (I don’t know if that’s something they’ll tell me??) THANK YOU- this is so sweet. I feel so honored that someone thought of me as deserving of this. There are so, so many authors you could've chosen and you chose ME! That’s just- insane. Thank you.  And to anyone who has said they found my hurt/ comfort fics relatable in any way, I rain all of the platonic hugs/ forehead kisses/ handshakes/ high fives/ nods of the head upon you. ❤️✨

Thank you to our author, @pearynice, and our nominator, @hotluncheddie! See more of @pearynice's work featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[brighttears]

Worship

Joel Miller x f!reader 

No physical description, no use of y/n

Summary: Joel and you met on the road, and he fell for you hard. You’ve turned him into a romantic, and it all really comes out when you stumble onto an abandoned church and you look so good up at the podium that he has to do something about it. 

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: religious talk, hinted unspecified age gapJoel daydreams about marrying you, sex in a church, smut (minors dni!), unprotected PiV, creampie, super mushy romantic dirty talk, pet names (baby, angel, darling, sweet girl, lovely girl, my dove, my girl, sweetheart)

A/n: i'm back writing, kinda, for a minute!! I’ve had this unfinished for weeks and weeks and weeks but here it is!! Inspired by hozier cause yeah. Btw there’s a twilight quote ok. Made Joel some kind of fucking poet I love making him be head over heels. Anyways I also have a request coming soon and a multi-parter cowboy au that I’m gonna finish all the parts of (actually this time) before releasing it!! Hope y’all enjoy I’ve been missing this blog <<<333

—

He couldn’t have ever seen you coming, and he never could have predicted what you’d do to him. He fell fast, and he fell hard. When he felt it coming on, like a cold, one you know is gonna be long and nasty, he told himself he wouldn't. He couldn’t. But he had no choice. He was powerless over you; like a wave crashing down on him, you came. And how quickly did he drown, and how easily he gave in. 

You had ruined a part of him, that part that he uses so often—to not give in. You destroyed it in him, you the only person that could. So he gave up, falling to his knees before you. For you. Only for you. 

This is something he would have talked to Tommy about, but he’s still miles and miles away from him, so he was all alone in it, completely lost, and it was up to him to make his own rules, to try to wrap his head around it. And god, did he twirl, dizzy in the thoughts, considerations, indignation and desire and complete powerlessness. 

You’re sweet. Calloused, but in a way he’d never seen. You smile. You give. You touch gently. You offer with no means to an end, no expectations. You bury your dead and count your bullets, but god how sharp your eyes are over your scope. How easy you wield a knife, and god how good you look with blood on you, and how indescribably good does it feel to clean it off of you. 

You do something to him, something he doesn't understand. All he knows is that when you move, he moves; like a magnet to you. 

No doubt he would do anything for you. Kill, live, fight, lie down, he’d give you everything, every ounce of his being. If you asked him to cut himself in half with that scared voice of yours, he would. But you never do. 

Joel is not a holy man. He’s the farthest thing from pure, he knows it, there's no doubt in his mind that he’s going to hell. He struggled with you, feeling like soot to your cleanliness, like he could ruin you with a touch. But, you asked him to hold you, to soil you, to come to you, so he did. 

He had no defense against it. 

Joel is an animal. He wouldn’t say that you tethered or leashed or trapped him—you let him inside. For the first time in 20 years, he was in a home. You tamed him without trying. He obeyed without you asking. 

The long grass shifts whispers against your shins as you walk through it, eyes set on the weak wooden church. Small and simple, peeling white paint leaving it almost bare, steeple tall and topped with a thin cross. 

There’s no real reason to be here, just that you wanted to check it out. Always so curious, so adventurous. He could very well be annoyed by it, but he loves it about you, so he follows, hand on the gun on his hip as you walk. His eyes should be scanning the area, which he is trying his best to do, but he keeps coming back to his view from behind you. The swish of your dress, the way it flows in the breeze, revealing your thighs, is hypnotizing. 

Dresses are rare attire these days—impractical, really, but they’re your signature. That was one of the peculiar hooks that got him when you met. Femininity like that is uncommon these days, and shows some sort of openness, some kind of vulnerability. He’s not exactly sure why he loves it as much as he does, or why you insist on them, but we stopped asking about it pretty quick, because he adores it. 

The ancient wood steps up to the church creak loudly under your feet, tightening Joel’s hand on his gun. You pause in front of the doors, waiting, but it’s silent, granting a bit of relaxation in his shoulders. The door cracks just as loud, revealing an almost crude wooden interior of the church. It’s very small, with only a few rows of pews leading up to the raised sanctuary, the altar centered with a simple engraved cross. 

Joel stays in the doorway as you walk up the aisle, looking around. He’s stuck there, watching you. That pretty little dress, in his head, transforms into something white, your shoulders bare, trailed by a long, royal tail, a tiara veiled atop your head, petals at your feet. The church stays small and wooden. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you. It’s all he can see. 

Your voice breaks through his daydream, “This is a quaint little place.” You dance your fingers on the pews as you pass them, stepping right up to the podium. You grasp the sides, leaning forward to him with a wide grin. “I like it.”

“Mmm. Me too.” Actually, he doesn’t think much about the church at all, other than the fact that it might be a safe place to spend the night. Or the day, because you look damn good up there at the podium, smile all up on display for him. Something about being in here with you… fits, but not just because he wants to marry you, and this is the perfect place to daydream himself into oblivion about it in. 

You tilt your head, raising your brows, recognizing the half absent look on his face. “Is that really what you think about it?”

“Makes me think about… worship.” He decides to say, glancing at you. And that’s when he realizes it—it makes me think of you. This is where you belong, a place of worship, and me, here, on my knees for it. You’re no god, but you’re close enough for me. My divine. My unexplainable seraph, in the midst of this world that could very well be hell. 

“Oh, yeah?” You say, looking like you have no idea, no idea that he worships you. 

He nods his head to the chancel, “You look real good up there.”

“Do I?” You chuckle innocently.

“Yeah, you do.” 

He approaches slowly, and you watch him, smile fading into a curious look as he does . “You belong in somewhere like this.” Joel stands behind you, slinking his arms around to rest his hands on your stomach. 

“What do you mean?” You say quietly, and he feels the small breath leaving you. How he loves them, and to hold your body as they rise and fall and come out of you. Knowing you're alive. Knowing that this body is in his arms. 

“In a church.” He replies just as quiet, slowly closing his mouth and nose into your neck. All he does is breath, feeling the pulse from your jugular vein against his skin. He closes his eyes, so close that his eyelashes brush your skin, and there’s that breath. Almost stuttered, almost shallow. His affect on you. 

“Why’s that?” you nearly whisper. 

He breathes in. Because you’re holy. Because you’re pure, in a way. Purest you can be. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I feel it when I touch you. It’s on your tongue, and you don’t know that when I kiss you, I drink you. Your spit’s like holy water. You can’t make me pure. But you let me taste some of it. 

“Cause.” Is all he says. He doesn't know how to speak these words. Not yet. He tries, and sometimes it works, but he’s too caught up in the feeling of every part of his body pressed against you. “You just… fit.”

“Well that’s cryptic.” This would be a place for you to chuckle, but it seems you’re just as caught as he is. The idea alone is intoxicating. He knows this love isn’t one sided, but each time he remembers that you might love him just as much as he loves you, it’s intoxicating. He sucks in your scent. 

“You really… have no idea what you do to me, do you?” He presses his lips against your skin as he speaks, wrapping his arms tighter around you, holding you close to him. 

“What do you mean…?” You breathe out, so clueless… do you really not know? After all this time, you haven’t realized?

“Well…” Joel’s lips automatically go to start pressing kisses over your neck, magnetically called to your skin, “I guess I’ll have to show you.”

He’s not even sure what he means by that exactly, and already, his head is swimming. Joel closes his eyes, keeping himself pressed against you, and starts snaking his hands over your stomach, your waist, your chest, your sides, lips still pressing softly over your neck. It’s like he wants to touch every part of your body at once. He can’t get enough, can never, ever get enough. He wants to envelop you, show you that everything he is is for you. His body starts to move as it pleases, beginning to slowly grind against you. He’s stiff already, hips sliding right up on your ass. And as he does, you make a sound, a breathy moan, only a moment long, but it does what it always does, and his grip tightens, mouth becoming greedier, opening to taste you. His body loves you just as much as his mind, its own separate being, wanting you, needing you, seduced by the existence of your body on its own. 

“I love you,” he breathes out, moving his lips over the bare skin granted by the scooped neck of your dress as his grip slides down to your hips, beginning to roll into a push and pull of your body to his. Tongue against your shoulder, he moans, soaking up the dopamine that seeps out of your skin. You dance at the podium, bodies working together in a sultry waltz, and its proof alone that you were made for each other. 

He was made for you, he knows that, and though he didn’t know it, he’s been following that destiny all this time, and it’s all he’ll do for the rest of it. Because he has everything now. You, here in this church, he feeds on the holiness, licking it off you, pulling it against him. And hearing those perfect sounds coming out of you, he knows he’s making you feel good, almost as good as you deserve. He’ll be seeking out that limit for the rest of his life, trying to give you what you deserve. 

But he knows how good he fucks you already. You tell him. So he can’t help but fuck you again, right here in this church. Your grip on the sides of the podium as he unbuckles his jeans as he pulls your dress up and slips your panties down. He presses into you, and as he groans, you maon, and he feeds on it. Like a leech. Like the hungry dog he is. Like the victim of your elixir, he needs it, and it’s all over his fingers as he slips them down the front of your pussy, swirling his fingers around your clit. 

Slow. He likes to start slow. Soak it up. Let you get used to it. A taste at a time. He likes to bury himself deep first. Know that you're his. That he’s the one this deep inside of you now, that this seraph is taking his cock, and you like it, you love it, and you show him that you need it when you push yourself back onto him. 

“Oh, baby,” he groans, every inch of him inside of you, and he can’t help but start to fuck a little faster. 

Joel lips are all over your neck, sliding his mouth around it, kisses and licks and just the lightest of bites. He doesn't want to hurt you, all he wants is for you to feel good, and then you tell him, “Feels so good,” in that small purr of yours, holding his hand on your breast, and he groans again. 

To touch you. To hold you. To kiss you. To fuck you. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, but he knows he has it, so he does. 

What a sight this would be, if anyone were to wander into this church. Some big, old man with his grimy hand reaching up under your dress to feel over your chest, fucking this perfect young woman from behind, up here on the chancel. The devil fucking an angel. But she likes it. She loves it. 

“Joel,” you moan out as he squeezes your breast, and with his face still pressed against your neck his breath over wet skin, he begins to speak. 

“I love you so much,” he says quietly, muffled against you, his eyes closed, just feeling you—that's when he can speak like this, though it’s always slurred, because he’s drunk on you. When he’s buried deep, smelling and tasting and feeling nothing other than you. When he gets wrapped up in you, that is when his voice is released. “You’re my angel, you’re my everythin’, an’ I was made for you, an’ all I want is you, all I want is to taste you, feel you, fuck you, make you feel good. I’d give you anythin’. Everythin’. Anythin’ you want. It’s yours. I’d burn the whole damn world if you asked me to. I fuckin’ belong to you, darlin.” And he feels it, almost like an ache in his chest, how profoundly he loves you. “Aw, baby,” he nearly whimpers, picking up his pace because he can’t help it, because he’s too damn hungry, and you feel too damn good. He keeps his hand over your pussy, swirling his fingers on your clit, slipping a finger down to feel himself coming in and out, and how wet you are for him. He adjust his stance, bending his knees slightly, fucking harder and faster. Moans bump out of you, his singing angel. 

“Joel, all I want is you, all I need is you,” you utter, voice high like it gets when he fucks you like this, hand going into his hair, running through it, holding him there. Against you. In you. He nearly growls. 

“Forever. I need you forever. In this life and the next. I don’t ever wanna lose you.”

“God, fuck me,”

“I didn’t believe in god,” The flood continues, almost unable to even hear himself over the rushing falls of his own feelings, emotional and physical. “I still don’t. But I believe in you. You’re the closest thing to it. You’re so perfect it drives me crazy. You drive me crazy, baby, y’know that? Holy fuckin’ pussy right here.” He drives himself deeper, and you moan louder. “My perfect baby, angel, you’re an angel. And you know, I belong out there in the pews.” Joel raises his hand away from between your legs to point out to them, but you take it right back to your pussy, pressing it back into your sweet wetness. He growls, clamping his teeth gently over your shoulder before pulling away to speak, though his lips stay stuck to your skin. “I love it when you do that, darlin’, when you show me how much you want it. All I wanna do is make you feel good. All I wanna do is for you. All I am is for you.”

Suddenly, you pull away, but only to face him, taking his face in your hands to kiss him. He hoists you into his arms automatically, dick focused on its own personal mission, placing your ass on the podium so that he can keep himself inside of you. 

“God, yes, fuck me,” you say into his lips, so he does, harder, and he can feel himself bottoming out, and you cry out sounds of pleasure into his lips. But he can’t stop talking. 

“You’re a gift from fuckin’ somewhere, I swear. I don’t care. I used to get so riled up about it. Who the fuck is this chic,” you chuckle into his lips as he speaks, messy, needy lips and tongues and teeth that he has to talk around, “and why’s she doin’ this to me? What the fuck am I doin’? And why am I lettin’ ‘er? Fuck if I know—but I have her,” he pauses to kiss you deeper, the weight of his own words, of the reality of all of this, scrunching his face up. Because he has you. In this world, on that road out here, and here in this church, so open for him, taking him so well, like you always do. 

“I love you,” you say, loud and lilted by pleasure, and he groans and moans and growls and whimpers back into your lips. 

“I love you more than anythin’. More than life it’s fuckin’ self, I swear. I swear, more than anythin’. You’re it for me, darlin, you’re it for me. Anythin’ you want.”

“I just want you.”

“An’ here I am, darlin’,” he replies, then grabs your ass in both hands, a better grip for him to pump himself into you, just how you like it, because he’s memorized what you like and how to do it so he can make you feel good, make you cum every single time he fucks you. “I’m not leavin’. I’m not leavin’.” He continues on, some words hitched or interrupted by a groan or moan or whimper, the sound of skin slapping skin and your own moans a chorus to it. “I’ll never leave you. Never. You make me feel human. You make me feel right. You make me feel… almost… holy. Like I’m close to it. To bein’ right. True. I’ll never be righteous. I’ll never be pure. But I can be somethin’ for you. I can do somethin’ good for you. I’ll keep you safe. Forever. I’ll keep you safe, baby, I’ll keep you safe. My sweet girl. My darlin’. My lovely girl. I love you.” 

You seem at a loss for words, very much unlike him at the moment, but he knows that’s a good sign. It means you’re close to cumming. 

“My dove. My love. Cum for me, angel, cum for me.” He slips his hand back between your legs, beckoning your climax, and your moans stutter and your thighs clamp around his waist and there’s that heavenly squeeze around his dick and you’re cumming but he can’t keep his mouth shut, “That’s my girl. That’s my angel. So good to me. So good to me. It’s fuckin’ unreal, darlin’, how good you are to me. What did I do to deserve this?” He asks in between kisses, sloppy and wet and loud on your quivering lips, still seeping moans as you finish on him, “What did I do to deserve this?” He can’t stop his hips from jutting into you, holding your hips tight, so he begs, “can I keep goin’ sweetheart?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe back out, gripping his thick forearms, holding onto him as he fucks faster, needily. 

“God you feel so good,” he says back into your lips, starting to pour out moans. Your fingers slide around his face, cupping it, pulling him away only enough to lock your gaze. Then, he’s gone. Nothing else exists, not even the church. Just your eyes, that almost sleepy look you get after cumming hard like that, and the feeling of rutting into you, wetness starting to drip down his thighs. 

Despite how difficult it’s becoming to get words out, and how interupted they are by the other sounds he’s making, he’s always the most talkative at this stage. It’s when he finally lets himself go, unleashing himself in more ways than one. Being this close to you, this level of intimacy, it all comes out. 

“I don’t know how I got you. I don’t understand it, darlin’. You do somethin’ to me. You did somethin’ to me. You changed me, darlin’. I know I, I’m still rough around the edges, and I bet you can’t even tell, but, you did somethin’ to me. Somethin’ I don’t understand. But I feel it. I felt it when I saw you for the first time. I felt it shift. I felt everythin’ shift. You scared the shit outta me, darlin’. You still do. Cause I love you so goddamn much. I love you hard, darlin’. I think that’s the only way I can love. Hard. Like a fist. Like a bullet. But I—I’m sweet with you, aren’t I? I’m not too rough on you, am I? You like it when I fuck you like this, darlin?”

“Yes, yes,” you nod, face screwed up again and interrupting him with moans. 

“Yes,” he nods back, “I make you feel good, my angel?”

“Yes, yes, you make me feel so good,” your breath hitches, cut off by a moan.

“You deserve it, baby. That’s all you deserve. Everything’ that’s good is made for you. I don’t understand how you fit down here on this Earth. But you do. You’re an angel, an angel of death, sharp and smart and quick and perfect in every goddamn way.” Joel slows, turning his head to press his lips to your hand on his face, kissing your fingertips, your palm, breath still sharp and hot. He closes his eyes, your long moans filling his ears. “You’re so perfect, darlin’. You’re so perfect. And you feel so fuckin’ good.” He moans loud, then leans into you, laying your back over the podium, hands on your thighs to keep them around him, and he fucks harder, jolting his hips faster, face back down on your skin. He fits his throat against yours with his lips to your ear, and he can feel your blood moving and the vibration of your voice as you moan, louder, and god, oh, god, all he wants is this, you, and he wants to make you cum again. 

Every part of him is pressed into you, save for his knees against the podium. “I’m nothing’ without you, darlin’.” He buries himself deep, feeling himself fill you up, and the sweet friction of his cock sliding with your cum, wet and ready and perfect. “I’m a sinner, darlin… I’m a sinner… all up on you, this fuckin’ angel, god, fuck.” He groans, then plants his mouth on your neck, wet from it already. “I’m goin’ to hell anyways,” he continues, finding himself unable to shut the fuck up, “but I’ll take this heaven here. I’ll take it for as long as you’ll give it to me.” He groans, throat becoming tight, feeling himself coming close, his whole body warm and needy and full and ready to release, “can I have a little bit more, darlin’?”

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop Joel,”

“D’y’ think y’ can cum again for me, darlin?”

“Ahuh,”

“God, you’re so good to me, ” his hand slides back between you, laying his palm down over your stomach with his thumb circling your clit. With his hand there, he can feel it, your pussy starting to squeeze, and when it registers around him, he stops breathing for a moment, and cums, maybe harder than he ever has. His hips stutter, pumping you full of his cum, your pussy squeezing it deeper with every stroke. You grasp his hair, pulling bundles of it, the sweet pain only making it that much more euphoric for him.

“Heaven,” comes out in a breath as he presses himself as deep as he can into you, bodies united and still pulsing, your legs keeping him clamped there, thighs shaking in spurts. 

“I love you,” he concludes. 

“I love you, I love you,” you whisper. You save your words for other times, for the late nights as your fingers dance over his skin, wrapped together in the cold or the heat—it doesn’t matter, neither of your bodies seem to be able to keep apart when they have the opportunity. You lull him to sleep with effortless poetry, anything that comes out of your lips. Every word, every sentence, perfect, because it’s your voice, it comes from you. 

Joel sighs deeply, laying over you, breaths deep and ragged with your own just the same under his weight. 

After a moment of catching your breath, he pushes himself up to admire the view. Your lips are open and wet, plump from his own, eyes half lidded, neck marked, breasts pushing out of the top of your dress. An angel. Slowly, he leans in for a sweet, slow, kiss. 

“You’re perfect.” 

When he pulls away, you’re smiling, eyes closed. You hum and then open them, and it's everything. And then your hands are on his cheeks again, warm like sunlight, and everything is perfect. 

“I love it when you get all lovey dovey on me, Joel. I love it when you talk. I love the things you say. You make me feel so special.”

“You are special.”

You smile, then lean in for another soft, simple kiss. 

“You’re special too, Joel. You’re so special to me. I love you.” You whisper, and in this abandoned church, in the middle of who knows where, he’s home, in your voice, your lips, your skin; in you.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC Writer of the Month - Aug 2023: ao719

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @ao719. We hope you will enjoy learning more about them and their work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: ao719 Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Anitah

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

I first started playing in June 2018. The Royal Romance was the first book I played, and I got hooked from the end of the first chapter. At the time, they were midway through releasing TRR book 3, so I binged books 1 & 2 and finally caught up on the day of the wedding, where the chapter ended with the attack at the boutique. Then I didn’t know what to do with myself because it was the first time I had to wait a week to find out what was going to happen.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

Finding Tumblr was a complete accident. I was googling something really dumb about Liam and TRR and happened to stumble across a link for a fic on Tumblr. At the time, I didn’t know what Tumblr was; I’d heard of it but had no idea what it consisted of. The fic I came across was around 40+ chapters, and I was in my glory reading this angsty story about Liam, but it wasn’t finished, so when I reached the last updated chapter, I was like, “I need more.” So I opened Tumblr and searched for more Liam fics and found a trove. I lurked for another month or so before finally making my account in September 2018.

3- How did you pick your blog name? 

I wish I had some good story for it, but it’s the most basic thing, lol. It’s just my initials and a significant date. I think if I came into the fandom with the intention of actually doing something with the blog, I would have tried to come up with something a little more clever and creative, but I had zero intention of doing anything but reading. I thought about changing it a few years ago, but when I learned that I’d have to relink everything in my masterlist, it didn’t seem worth the hassle.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

It’s from the day TRR 3 ended and it’s about how I was sad that it was over but was glad that I had all these stories to read.

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

I’d never written anything until I joined the fandom, so I’ve only been writing for almost five years now. The thought of writing didn’t even cross my mind when I joined the fandom, but within a couple of weeks of making my blog, I had a random idea pop up in my head, and for some reason, I decided to write it down. A few days later, after talking myself out of posting and then talking myself back into it, I bit the bullet. For me to post a story that I wrote was entirely out of my comfort zone. I’m pretty shy and tend to be more of a wallflower, so I don’t usually put myself out there, especially like that, and I’ve never been someone who does something where I intentionally set myself up, knowing there is a very good chance that I will fail. And social media on any platform can be a pretty intimidating and terrifying place when you open yourself up, especially to strangers, even by way of posting a measly little fanfic. So to say I was terrified of posting that first fic is an understatement, but I’m so glad that I did.

6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

The Royal Romance will always be my favorite. It was the first book I ever played and was the only one I played for well over a year (I just kept replaying over and over and over until @cocomaxley convinced me to give MotY a try, which I fell in love with). It’s my comfort book. And like every book, it definitely has its flaws, but I love it and the characters so much. And TRR is my favorite book to write about. Liam will always be my number one guy.

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

The first fic that I wrote was I Dare You. It’s not an all-time favorite of mine, but I like it well enough that I wouldn’t change anything about it.

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

This is tough because I have a few that I love for different reasons, but I think Always You will always be the most special to me because it was the first series I wrote that I can truly say I poured my whole heart into. I love that story, and I love the history between Liam and the OC, their bond, and their relationship. 

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

When I decided to start Hopeless Hearts, I didn’t think it would be received any differently from most things I’d written before. It was an idea I’d kept on the back burner for over 2 years prior to writing it because I didn’t think it was anything spectacular or out of the box. It turned out to be my most well-received series, and it became one of my personal favorites as well.

I don’t think anything I’ve written has left me feeling as though I wished it had gotten more. I’m still surprised to this day that anyone wants to read anything I’ve written at all, so any love that my fics get is beyond appreciated.

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

Angst (but with a HEA). I love putting my characters through the wringer before giving them that happily ever after they deserve. Whether I’m reading or writing, there’s something about feeling the pain and longing they’re going through that gets me emotionally invested. I think that’s why I love the second chance romance trope so much, too. It’s a really versatile trope, but there’s a lot of room for angst in those kinds of stories because of that established history between the characters and a past that tore them apart the first time around.

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

I think I sprinkle a little bit of myself into all of my MCs/OCs. It’s usually something small like a favorite food, a hobby, certain mannerisms, etc. I think the one that I’ve added more of myself into than any other and can relate to the most personality wise would definitely be Charlotte.

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

I struggle with all of it here and there, and I’m constantly questioning whether something makes sense, if it’s flowing together, if it’s too descriptive or not descriptive enough, etc. I think the one area I most consistently struggle with is deciding where and how to end because I always want to leave my chapters with a cliffhanger or if I’m finishing something for good, I want to give it the ending it deserves. 

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

I have quite a few that are unfinished that I know I more than likely won’t ever pick back up, mostly because I just lost my mojo for them, but there are definitely some that I want to finish. I’d really like to get back to Past Meet Present one day. I don’t even remember why I got off track with writing it, and it’s been at least two years or more since I last updated it 🫣 so I’m not sure if anyone would even still be interested at this point, but I’d really like to finish that along with Breaking Point and Us Again.

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first? 

No. Maybe. I don’t know, lol. I try to be a “never say never” kind of person, but writing is something that I’ve done for almost five years that literally no one in my real life knows about. Not my friends, not my family, not a single soul. It’s like my dirty little secret. And it’s a little tough because it does get lonely sometimes when you have something that you love doing so much but you just feel like you can’t share or aren’t ready to share that part of yourself with even those closest to you. I’m a pretty self-conscious person, and posting on here where I can hide behind a screen is hard enough; I get nervous and have a good spike of anxiety every time I post something, no matter what it is. I don’t know if I could handle someone who knows me personally even knowing that I write, let alone actually reading something I’ve written. I’ve got the bubble gut just thinking about it 🥴

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing? 

I’ve been lucky enough to talk to and befriend some amazing and talented people in the time I’ve been here who I’ve certainly looked up to when it comes to their writing talents. And there are also those writers who I got to know after I’d been writing for a while that not only continued to inspire me with their amazing stories and talent but who also became a huge support and really close friends. They were and/or are always willing to brainstorm, look over snippets, help in those moments when I’ve been extra critical of myself and feeling very unsure, and/or have just been the absolute best cheerleaders and constantly supportive and encouraging to not only me but others as well. I don’t want to make a list because I always end up forgetting someone and I don’t want to leave anyone out, but anyone that fits that bill above, you know how much I love and appreciate each one of you.

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

I’d say either Always You or Hopeless Hearts for a movie. Series I think Full Disclosure with some Charlotte shenanigans would be pretty fun 😂

17- Do you write original fiction? 

I haven’t. I’ve been asked a few times about whether I’ve thought about turning a couple of my series into original stories, but I just don’t think I’ll have the confidence to ever do it 😬

18 -  What other hobbies do you have?

I do photography. I love calligraphy and making hand drawn quote signs on wood or canvas. I love to read — I’m currently in my fantasy girl era and have been obsessing over the ACOTAR series for months, lol. 

19 - What’s your favorite emoji? 

I use so many to express myself in conversations that I think it would be hard to pick just one. My most commonly used ones: 💀 😂 🥲 😬 😍 🥴 🥹

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

I just want to thank CFWC for working so hard to help keep this fandom active and supporting everyone here. 

To anyone who’s taken any time to read my stories and interact with me in any way, I appreciate it more than I can say. 

This place has been such an escape for me over the past (almost) five years, one I’m still very much in need of. So, whether you’re a content creator, writer, artist, reader, whatever the case may be, whether we’ve interacted before or not, thank you for what you’ve done to help keep this fandom alive.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

here's a question that has probably been asked before: how did you come up with you rewrites for the characters? all of the backstories you gave them are really interesting and, while I haven't read the originals in a long time, I think I like what you did more. I found your work only in the past couple days, but I like it a lot; your versions of the creeps feel the most like real people that I've found since my interest in them reignited. but yeah, love your work.

(also, I may show back up in your ask box, so may I be "embroidery anon"?)

Firstly, thank you very much!! I tried really hard to make them much more realistic/three dimensional instead of just “oohhh I like to kill people!!” Ya know? I’m glad that people like you over time have liked that aspect of them :)) Prepare for some rambling though-

As for coming up for their specific backstories, that’s a little hard to answer I think just because of how long it’s been since I started doing that. I’ve been into the creeps since I was 11 and I’m turning 23 in a couple weeks so, it’s been a long ride. The creeps grew up alongside me and I think for some of them their stories just sort of evolved in my mind over the years. I mean I’ve literally been in the fandom for longer than several creeps like Toby, Pup, Helen, etc.

The basics are just I’d look at the original story for most of them, decide what I think I could keep, and what I’d like to change. For a creep like Toby, I wanted him to still have a good relationship with his mom and sister, and I still wanted his sister to die, but for Natalie I made her brother an ally to her and someone she loves and trusts instead of one of the bad guys. But I mostly wanted to make the writing darker and more in depth, I wanted them to be darker and more realistic as people.

I also wanted different backgrounds for them, like Toby/Helen/Natalie coming from very rich and influential families, EJ in my canon growing up in a cult, Jason and LJ both being toys instead of just LJ, things like that.

The thing about rewriting them I think is that most of the OG stories are not… The best written stories ever? Most of them were written by preteens/teens and not the most realistic pieces of media. Like in Jeff’s, being burned by fire made his hair turn black and his skin turn white, which is not really how fire and burns work?? And then he went on to burn off his eyelids which also not a great idea? I’ve actually had people get upset that my Jeff has eyelids but like if he didn’t he would be completely blind and in literal agony because his eyes would be completely dried out. That’s not a great design imo, but it was also written by a child so like, that’s why.

Most of my designs just sort of pop into my head randomly though. I get an idea like for BEN I wanted him to be close to his mom, but I didn’t want her to still be living so I went okay, how do I expand on that? And that’s how I came up with my version of his story, with his mom dying young from illness and his father being abusive and resentful.

I wish I had a better way of explaining it but that’s just sort of my general thought process. I started to look at them more as individual characters/OCs instead of just the original lore, which I mean most blogs for the creeps these days have their own lore too. I don’t think my creeps are the best ones ever (except in my heart), but I also had a lot of fun writing them and coming up with their backgrounds. I got influenced a lot by songs and media and they just gradually came into fruition :) I’m glad they were good enough to reignite your interest.

(And also yes, you may take that anon name ^^)