#HI. I HAVE HAD THE FIRST TWO PARAGRAPHS OF THIS SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS. I KNEW I'D GET TO IT SOME DAY

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: sub!nerd!Mark x Dom!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Jerking him off. Oral. Slight edging. I'm like a broken record when it comes to writing about sucking Mark off, my b <3

| wc: 2.3k

Sometimes the best way for Mark to study was with an incentive system— A way for him to earn rewards if he did his work. He had a habit of getting disinterested in his work easily because you were a fantastic distraction from his textbooks, even if you weren’t doing a single thing aside from lounging on the couch in pajamas. Mark just… he couldn’t care less about anything else whenever you were around. You were his everything. But to you, his studies should have been his everything because he was so close to getting his master’s, it was stupid of him to throw that all away just because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. So you figured out when finals season approached and Mark was constantly throwing his work to the side to make out with you that if you gave him rewards for studying, Mark was eager to speed through his flashcards, textbooks, homework, and so on.

“When you’re done with your lab report, I’ll blow you.”

“When you’ve reviewed your final draft for your philosophy essay, you can kiss me.”

“Once you make your own comment on the assignment of the week, I’ll sit on your lap while you reply to two of your classmates’ comments.”

Mark had always been a good student, but somehow his grades were doing even better ever since you started the incentive idea. You were having to slow him down and stall on his rewards because, like a dog in training, he figured out that if he was a good student then you would touch him, so he was doing too much at once just for the chance to get your mouth on his cock, or even the opportunity to be inside of you. Usually he only got to fuck you after big projects worth about 20% of his grade… But since it was finals season, Mark was more worked up than usual, and he was incredibly stressed, so he was eager for more and more and more—

“I can’t keep doing this, baby, I’m too tired,” he whined, hiding his face in his hands before diving face-first against his open textbook. “If I have to read one more thing about how arteries work, I’m going to start tearing my hair out. Like, who doesn’t know this already! Why do I have to read seven chapters about bullshit I learned in high school!”

“How much more do you have left?” you asked, setting your phone to the side and sitting up on the couch.

“Two more chapters.”

“That’s nothing,” you whined back mockingly.

Mark lifted his head so that he could show you his pouting bottom lip and those big puppy-dog eyes behind his glasses. Why did you have to fall in love with a hot nerd, huh? A nerd would have sufficed. Or a hot jock. But a hot nerd was your kryptonite, and even though you knew he was baiting you to get what he wanted, there was no denying that he was irresistible when he was wearing his glasses, his hair long was a mess, and his pajamas were shifting around just enough to let you see the outline of his abs under his shirt and his cock in his pants. Ugh, he knew how to get you.

“Finish this chapter first,” you said, hoping to buy yourself some time.

Mark perked up thanks to the mysterious hope you’d provided him. His eyes began scanning the chapter at the normal, quick pace you were familiar with when he wasn’t protesting the idea of studying; and in the meantime, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked towards Mark. He hesitated briefly, but his gaze didn’t leave the textbook. He warily flipped the page, revealing that he was on the last few paragraphs before the next chapter. You watched over his shoulder to put some pressure on him to actually read and not just fuck around because even though you weren’t a nerd like him, you’d learned enough during his “rewards” to catch on whenever he was lying about doing his work just to get what he wanted.

“Done,” he cheered victoriously.

“How long’s the next chapter?”

Mark flipped a few pages in search of the chapter he didn’t have to read for homework. Six pages later, he found it and pointed.

“You think you can last ‘til then?”

Mark looked confused. “For what?”

With a wicked grin, you dropped down to your knees then crawled under the dining room table where Mark had set up shop with all of his study material in preparation for finals. You were having to eat meals on the couch since there was no room at the table anymore.

“Read the chapter aloud so I know you’re not lying,” you told him casually as you pried his knees apart to make room for yourself to settle between his legs. Mark leaned back so that he could watch you for a moment. “Don’t lose track of your spot either.”

As you grabbed the hem of his pajama pants, Mark aided your attempt to undress him by lifting his hips so that you could pull the fabric down, then he resettled on the wooden chair. Mark wasn’t unfamiliar with being naked on that chair— You liked to tie his hands behind his back and have him sit on that chair while you rode him until his head was spinning and he couldn’t get out a single word.

When you wrapped your hand around his length, Mark gulped, but he remembered what you wanted him to do in order to earn his reward, so he leaned forward again to put his focus on the last chapter of the night. You didn’t do anything to distract him for a bit. Despite his growing eagerness as shown by his hardening cock in your hand, you didn’t move or do something new— So Mark began reading the chapter aloud. Honestly, you weren’t paying attention. A lot of the science shit he studied went over your head, so even though you heard the words and learned a thing or two here and there, you never really… absorbed everything like he did…

Mark concentrated on the words in front of him, and as he began the next paragraph, that was when you began slowly pumping your hand up and down his long dick. He moaned suddenly. His ability to keep reading coherently faded, so you stopped your motions. Mark immediately bucked his hips upward to encourage you to keep going, but so long as he wasn’t studying, you weren’t going to give him his reward. When he recuperated, Mark slowly started reading again… You took a moment to believe him that he was actually ready, then you continued when you were doing. Mark moaned, but before you could stop again, he raced to keep reading at a faster pace, likely in the hopes that you would put him in your mouth or ride him, or let him fuck you…

Your tongue flicked Mark’s tip suddenly. The words of the textbook got caught in his throat, and within an instant he was leaning back to look down at you, his glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose. You stopped to look up at him. He whined at the lack of stimulation, but you grinned while cocking your head to the side, waiting for him to say something, to admit that he wanted more, or perhaps he would silently return to his work. In fact, that was what he did. He read the next line casually to give you time to get back to what you were doing. Two lines later, you caught him off guard by sucking him off again, your tongue swirling around his tip, your fingers playing with his base and even teasing his balls a bit to really get him worked up.

The third page turn marked him reaching the halfway point of the chapter without any more issues. He did his best to ignore you so that he could focus on his work, despite the fact that you were slowly working his cock towards an orgasm which you didn’t plan on giving him quite yet. He knew that. He read as fast as he could in order to complete the assignment sooner, but every time he fucked up a word or lost his place in the paragraphs, you paused to give him a chance to figure out how to reset. Unfortunately, whenever you stopped, you also edged him. He hated that. But you loved how cute he sounded when he was all submissive and desperate.

By the fifth page, Mark was losing it. He was stuttering through every word, moaning between sentences, begging for more at the end of paragraphs. You tried to show him a little bit of mercy by going slower so that you didn’t have to edge him as often, but even that couldn’t really help Mark. Poor thing. Before you, he didn’t have a lot of experience— A personal choice until he met you. He’d only kissed a guy, some friend of his, and one girl in middle school; and he fully intended on never thinking about dating again until after his PhD when he could think about getting married. However, he saw you in his ethics class, a required course which he was less than excited to be attending instead of the courses required for his master’s degree, and once he laid eyes on you, he knew that he had to have you, but there was one thing in his way. He definitely didn’t deserve you. The fact that you were so gorgeous and perfect and amazing and— Mark couldn’t believe that someone like you would look twice in his direction. What he failed to recognize, though, was that he was actually way out of your league, according to you, so you couldn’t believe that someone as handsome as Mark Lee would even glance at you.

Now there the two of you were, moved in together, happily dating, supporting each other through your degrees, and even teasing the idea of marriage whenever Mark got really sappy during cuddle-time late at night. His experience obviously grew in that time too. Mark liked to experiment with his sexuality, and that led him to discovering that he liked being submissive from time to time, especially when it came to things like rewards and punishments— Having structure in his life provided by someone else gave him comfort.

“Can I cum?” he asked suddenly.

You pulled off of him.

“Wait, wait, please, don’t stop—”

“You have to finish the chapter first.”

Mark shuddered. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I believe in you, baby.”

He swallowed a moan then continued reading. Something, something, arteries, something, something, blood, something— “I’m close! No, no, no…” His knuckles turned white as his fists tightened when you edged him again. Something, something… Nutrients… Something… Hormones… “Okay, I’m done, I finished, please!”

Sitting up on your knees slightly, you were able to angle yourself better to sink your mouth down over his tip while your hand continued to jerk off the first few inches down at his base. Mark grabbed your hair to hold onto something for balance. He didn’t push you down or buck upwards. He just let you take the lead while he used you to keep himself sane. Slowly, you swallowed every inch until there was no more room for your hand, and you could feel him tickling the back of your throat, which was uncomfortable just enough to cause you to go back up. Mark moaned with relief. Feeling your cheeks hollow out, your tongue dragging along his length, and your saliva coating every inch of him made his eyes roll behind those handsome glasses of his.

“Can I cum?” he begged desperately.

“Yeah,” you mumbled before sinking back down.

Mark squirmed, his tip hitting the inside of your wet cheek, then he thrusted upwards until he hit the back of your throat again, and even though you gagged a bit, he moaned and started cumming. He panted breathlessly through it. There wasn’t a lot since you’d drained him throughout the past couple of days, but the orgasm was strong enough that he threw his head back and clenched his thighs around your shoulders.

“F-feels so good… Fuck… Thank you… Thank you…”

As his orgasm passed, he slumped in the chair. You allowed him a minute to catch his breath while you also used that time to swallow every drop he gave you while also trying to regain your composure.

“Fuck, I’ve got a headache now.” Mark reached to help you to your feet.

You kissed his forehead. “Take a break from studying, then, we’ll get some rest for a bit.” You continued to hold his hands as you pulled him to his feet too then calmly led him to the bedroom. Mark crashed on the bed in an instant. “Gotta take these off first, babe.” You carefully slid his glasses off his face and set them on his bedside table. “There you go.”

Mark grabbed your waist and pulled you on top of him to cuddle close and nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck lovingly. “Do you think I’m going to pass my bio exam?”

“You’re studying more often than not, so, yes.”

He chuckled. “You’re biased.”

“Then why’d you ask me, silly?”

Mark squeezed you tight and rolled over so that you were laying beside him, giving you ample room to squeeze him back. “Thank you,” he said. “You’ve helped me a lot this semester.”

You kissed the top of his head and played with the end of his long hair that laid against the back of his neck. “Any time.”

taglist: @theycallmesya @henderysposts @trash-number-one @botchedbrat @n0hyuck

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[mingi-s-dimples]

Crave me - yunho

pairing: bf!yunho x gf fem!reader

rating: 18+, bdsm

genre: romance, bdsm, filthy smut (mdni ty)

summary: The bratty attitude you had with him didn't last long.. as he leaves his patience at the table and destroys you.

WC: 3.5k

warnings: rough/strict dom!yunho, bratty sub fem!reader, bdsm, choking, neck kink, sucking, blowjob, making out, tying up, pet names (darling, babe, love, pretty boy, sweetie, sweetheart), degradation kink (slut, cumslut, whore), praise kink, slapping/spanking, both vaginal and anal, use of bdsm attire (cuffs, blindfold, rope), use of toys (vibrator), sense deprivation (blindfold), little bit of hand kink, punishing, edging, creampie, ruined orgasms, multiple rounds, deals (but Yunho feels cocky and he said fuck the deal), cum cum cum a lot of cummm, squirting, mentions of safe word but never used (reader is a brat), cum eating, big dick!yunho, overstim, backshots, unprotected (REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL !), completely consesual !, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: SO ! When I first started writing this fic, several day ago, I didn't intend to make it this.. filthy. But.. my lovely bestie rated the roughness in the other 3 fics I have posted an average of 8.sth/10 and I took that as a CHALLENGE. Hope you like it, Lis, love you sweetie. Another small note: WHY AREN'T THERE MORE BDSM FICS OUT THERE HELLO? I'M A SUCKER FOR THEM !

Update, Lis: okay, even though i saw some paragraphs before this was published, i was still taken off guard by this. i’m taking back my words, roughness level 10/10, WHEN I TELL YOU I HAD TO TAKE A BREAK AND BREATHE. seriously i love this fic sm and bia you are so talented, you never fail to amaze me❤️❤️ please keep going with your work, i love youu<3 ( i’m still waiting for a demon joong fic 👹👹👹 ) - my answer: the demon joong fic is alr in my drafts, halfway done.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The grand dining hall was a symphony of opulence and elegance, its high vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate plasterwork and crystal chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow over the scene. Rich tapestries hung from the walls, their deep hues of burgundy and gold complementing the polished mahogany of the round, small dining tables. As the guests settled into their seats, the gentle strains of a string quartet drifted through the air, mingling with the soft clinking of fine glasses and the murmur of animated conversation.

At one end of the table you were sitting at, the host, Park Seonghwa raised his glass in a toast, his voice resonant and filled with the gravitas of tradition. Across from him, Hongjoong's laughter rang out, light and melodious, adding a delicate counterpoint to the music. The aroma of roasted meats and rich sauces wafted from the platters being served, each dish a masterpiece of culinary art. Conversations flowed like the wine, moving from the latest societal gossip to philosophical musings, as the guests, dressed in their finest evening attire, engaged in a dance of words and wit.

In this setting, every detail was meticulously curated to create an atmosphere of refined luxury and cultural sophistication. Yet, beneath the surface of this carefully constructed elegance, the undercurrents of intrigue and hidden agendas were beginning to stir, promising that the evening's conviviality was only the prelude to a much deeper story.

You, a renowed and well known supermodel, were sitting right next to your husband, Jeong Yunho. He was the CEO of the agency you were modelling at.

The thing is... besides the lovey-dovey side you and Yunho always showed to the other guests and your friends, for example Seonghwa, Hongjoong and the others, the two of you had... another side to your relationship.

Your intimate relationship dynamic was quite.. the opposite of what you were showing. From light forehead kisses, hand holding and warm hugs and kisses... to cuffs, blindfolds and degradation. No one knew the real you when in private, and it made the whole thing way better.

*several minutes later*

"Ooookay, should I ask the chef to bring us some desserts? I think the dinner went really well!" Hongjoong said smiling, watching each of his guests contently. He then hovered his eyes over the whole venue, you could see the happiness flooding over him. It was the ending dinner for a really important business plan that came to a final success.

While the others were happily celebrating with the host, you and Yunho were giving each other some stares. One of the things you loved the most to do was to annoy your man. Why? Cause you knew he'd destroy you the same night. You were never allowed to do things on your own, without his permission. Things such as touching him in public, deny his own touching, dress how you'd like without his approval, because he was really jealous of needy and hungry eyes that always wanted you. Everyone had envy for him, because you were the most beautiful model in your country, the agency itself was the best one, too. But tonight.. you decided to do.. everything that annoyed him and drove him insane. You first started with a.. really nice outfit, you'd say. It was halfway see-through, high heels and silver, bold jewelry completing the look. You were wearing two pieces, a short but flowy black skirt and a white, almost translucent shirt, an elegant one. Your hair was straightened, flowing beautifully on your bare back, as the shirt you were wearing only covered your chest. A silver chain was connecting two pieces of fabric on your back, making you flinch with every slight touch, because of the sheer coldness.

"Darling.. did I ever approve of... this outfit?" Yunho whispered, one of his hands going on your thigh. You tried to deny his touch, moving his hand away, but he only dug his nails deeper into your leg. You flinched, looking at him in the eyes, with an almost innocent look.

"Oh babe... don't you like it? Damn.. I thought it looked really nice" you said sheepishly, smiling at him.

"I didn't say I don't like it but... didn't we agree that these types of visible outfits are... only for me to see, hm?" he whispered and approached your neck with his lips, slightly biting it.

"Babe.. there's people around us. What would they think of you, seeing you kissing me like that?" you said, trying to get a reaction out of him but to your surprise, he remained calm and content, biting you harder.

"Do I look like I give a fuck? You did it to yourself, love. This is the first strike of tonight.. be careful for the rest of the time. I don't feel like destroying your beautiful body when we get back in the room." Yunho said, going in for a soft kiss on your lips.

"We'll see about that, babe." you said and got up from your seat, searching with your eyes the champagne bar.

Someone came behind your back. Of course, it was Yunho, all touchy on your bare waist, as the shirt you were wearing was pretty.. short.

"Babe.. I almost forgot" he mumbled.

"What did I tell you about denying my hand, hm?" his hands hovering your back, one of them on your ass and one on the nape of your neck, slightly squeezing it. "Hm? what did I tell you, mind sharing me your reason?"

"You told me that I should... never move your hand away from myself.." you said turning around to face him. "But... what's entirely wrong with it.. pretty boy? Don't you like it when I tease you..?" you said and gave him a kiss, your hands traveling from his neck to his collarbones, then from his chest to his belt, tugging at it for a second.

"This is.." he whispered. "Strike two.. my love." One more and we're out of here.. remember the rule?" he squeezed your ass, looking right into your eyes, seeing how eager you were to fuck him right there.

Several minutes pass and you were back to your table, sitting next to each other. He effortlessly pulled your seat closer to his, making you gulp at his power and speed. Looking him in the eyes you started being all touchy with him. Started from his hands, feeling up his slender and long fingers, then to his biceps. You stayed like that for a long minute, with your head resting on his shoulder, then one of your hands went straight for his crotch, no warning.

"Yunho, everything good? Why did you flinch, is it too cold here?" Seonghwa asked, confused.

"Ah yes, everything is fine, don't worry about it" he said smiling, squeezing your thigh, his hand going to your pussy, rubbing circles through your panties from under your skirt.

 "Babe... that's strike three, if you ask me." he said and patted you on your thigh, to make you look at him. He then looked around for the exit doors and excused himself, taking your hand into his.

"Joong, we'll be back, I need to take care of something at the agency" Yunho said and then dragged you out.

And as the two of you got out the doors, there was a long empty hall, no one was there. He slammed you to the wall, one of his hands on your throat and one lifting you up. He was going towards the elevator.

"Nh- babe, where are we going? you said through the kisses.

"Just upstairs, I reserved a room for us right here. I didn't think we'd need it but... you wanted to be a little slut so it serves us good. Aren't you my little whore, hm? All down for me, I saw you eye fucking me when you were getting champagne. You wanted me to fuck you dumb tonight, mm? he said while going in the elevator.

"What did you want me to do babe, hm? Did you miss my slaps and my cuffs? You little slut, you'll see what will happen if you're being a brat with me again" and right as he said this, he held you close as he opened the door with the keycard. He closed it and he dropped you on your bed.

Some meters from the king sized bed there was a small bag, and you knew so well what there was... cuffs, blindfolds, ropes.. everything you could think of as a sub. And yes.. the relationship between you and your husband, in private, was a dom/sub one. You found out that you were both into bdsm a while ago, when Yunho didn't resist anymore and tried something new on you. You loved it and... it became a really often practice.

"Love, spread out, now." he said as he went back to get something from the bag.

You were still dressed and he was too. But you could feel yourself leaking right on the bed. You knew you left a wet spot on the dark sheets, something that turned your man on even more.

"Told you to spread the fuck out, you brat. When did you get so naughty, hm? Want me to put you in your place? he said as he spread your legs out, tying them to the bed frame. You still had your clothes on, but the skirt was lifted up and the blouse was all messed up. He ripped of your panties and threw them on the floor.

You tried to say something but didn't have time to react. He went back to the bag and took out some cuffs, then got on the bed, his crotch, still dressed, rubbing on your folds. You could feel his bulge getting bigger, his pants getting thighter as he went further to tie your hands to the headboard.

"For all of what you did tonight.. babe, you'll get punished, you know that, right? he said as he hovered his hand over your throat and collarbones. "Stay still, I'll tie a sheer blindfold to your eyes. I want you to still be able to distinguish how I destroy your little and pretty pussy." 

"Yuyu.. please. Fuck me." you pleaded, trying to look him in the eyes. Whenever he tied a blindfold on your eyes.. it turned you on so bad. You couldn't properly see what was happening nor what he was doing, preparing what to do to you.. but it was thrilling.

"Hmm... what should I start with.. pretty slut, mm? Should I just edge you until you can't take it anymore and cum out of overstimulation and exhaustion, should I make you cry and not let you cum the whole night? Should I.... fuck you and deny your orgasm how you denied my hand? Tell me, sweetheart. I need words, not muffled sounds." he confidently said, giving you a smirk and his right hand going right to your blouse, easily unbuttoning it and throwing it away on the floor.

He hastly gets rid of your bra, his groping entirely unhelpful. Large hands, slender fingers roaming your body, sliding over your nipples, pressing and nibbling at them, cupping your breasts and hoisting your legs up and around his waist. Him, still clothed, you.. only with your skirt on, if that's even important.

"Fuck, Yuyu —" you gasp when he sucks a dark bruise into the skin of your neck, while one of his hands went to his shirt. He slowly unbuttoned it, then went for his pants. He undid them halfway and pushed towards you, getting a soft moan out of your slowly rising chest, heavy breathing from all the manhandling he did on you. He was taking his time. He absolutely loved seeing you begging for his cock, squirming and moving against his crotch in wish of friction. But.. Yunho left all his patience at the door.

"Babe, how did you get me this mad, hm? Did you even think about the consequences, you little slut? If that's what you wanted.. I'll destroy you, sweetheart."

Two of his fingers trace your hole before sinking into you, curling to find the right spot. All you can do is arch your back, your moans and cries soon muffled by one of his hands, as he chokes you.

"Is this what you wanted? rile me up so I'd fuck you hard tonight? all you needed to do is ask, sweetie." Yunho said, curling his fingers right into your sweet spot, receiving some loud moans from you.

You could ask and he'd give you the moon if he could. But he was a completely different person in bed. There's something about him taking you like this, almost feral, that makes your toes curl.. could it be his fingers and how he curls them in you so good that he makes you shiver and cum, maybe squirt all over the place? would it be... his cock and how deep you feel it in you, scared that he might destroy your insides?

He fucks his fingers into you sloppily, scissoring you open with little to no care if it hurts or not. It was clear that he only had one goal in sight, and that being stretching you out just enough to be able to take his cock.

It only takes a few more strokes before he's satisfied, the blunt head of his dick prodding at your entrance, getting loud whimpers from you.

"Use the safe word if it's too much" he said and started pounding into you, making your hands rocket to the headboard, holding on for dear life. It's the only warning he gives you but.. it's enough to get an understanding on how pissed he was. He was holding so thight onto your thighs, them around his waist, that you knew you'd have bruises the next day.

"So fucking tiny" he grunts as he watches you struggle to adjust to his size "Such a whore for my cock, mhm? You take it so well... even if it destroys you. Be my cumslut, won't you? I'll edge you until you can't take it anymore."

"Y-yunho !" you shouted as he used a vibrator on your clit, arching your back at the sensation. The puffed bud he was stimulating made you feel like you'd already come, but something else happend. Your walls clenched on his cock, receiving a low grunt and as he slowed down his thrusts, he watched you contently at how you squirted all over him and the bed.

"Oh wow, already? Lucky this is the only thing I'm letting you do, you little slut" he said as he thrusted even deeper, harder, sloppier into you.

"Babe, n-no don't do th-that I might c-cum" you said as he was giving you another round of circles on your clit, feeling how overstimulated you were.

"Nope, I won't let you" he said as he stopped, pulling out of you, your hole clenching on nothing.

He started rubbing his length lazily, looking at you squirming right in front of him. You wanted to be fucked dumb, until you couldn't walk anymore. But that wasn't his plan for tonight.

"Let's make a deal. If you make me cum only with your mouth, no hands and no sucking. Just touching, licking and nibbling, I'll let you cum. Otherwise, you'll get slapped and fucked... not in your little aching pussy, but deep down in your cute and red ass, until you cry. What do you say, babe, a pretty good deal, I'd say?" he said as he uncuffed your hands, lifting you on your knees.

The thing is... you weren't quite.. on your knees. You were spread out, your aching hole rubbing on the wet and sloppy linen underneath you. You started humping it slowly, not knowing if you were allowed to, but he somehow didn't mind it. He knew you weren't able to cum only from humping on a cloth so he let you do your thing.

"Now.. be my little cumslut and get on licking." he said guiding your head to his dick, throbbing on your lips. You had your hands cuffed at your back, not being able to move them. You started kissing, nibling at the tip, getting some nice groans out of him. Then you started licking the slit, putting pressure with your tongue and licking his length all down to the base of it. The circles you always make on the tip get him from being silent to being louder, as the sloppy sounds of your tongue turns him on more.

"Yes, just like that, sweetie. A liiiittle bit more and you're getting me closer."

You started nibbling, almost like sucking on his tip.

"Yuh, mhm. Go on, make me cum, you little whore" he said as his breath started getting faster, heavier, your licks getting sloppier as he tried so hard not to cum but... you did the deal. He came all over your face, as you were not allowed to suck it.

"Good girl, such a good girl you are" he said as he wiped off his load from your face with one hand and with the other one opening your mouth, his thumb on your bottom lip. He let his cum drip onto your tongue, signaling you by raising his brows to swallow. You did as he wanted, soon sucking his fingers to get every drop of his load.

"Y'know babe.. I kinda changed my mind in between your little nibbles." he said as he turned you over, on your belly, one of his hands on the back of your throat. "You're gonna take me so well, I will make sure of it." he said as two of his fingers went in your other hole, no warnings. You moaned at the feeling of his fingers curling up inside you. The same as before, his goal was to make your hole be able to engulf his length, but this time his goal was to bottom down entirely.

"Thought you could just leave me like that?" he wraps a hand around your waist, the other one on your neck, "leave me high and dry without any repercussions? You're lucky I'll keep my promise and let you cum so... cum, you little slut." as he started pounding heavily and deeply into you.

The hand he had on your waist goes to your pussy, curling them inside you and rubbing your clit.

You shake your head at his words, the coil in your tummy tightening with every word he hisses into your ear, wetness dripping down his balls and coating them as he pounds into your ass.

Yunho could feel you clenching around his cock, knows you're close by the familiar rhythm and your muffled whines rising in pitch. He removes his thight hold on your neck, letting you turn your head around, gasping for air.

"'m so close, fuck, yunho, gonna cum —"

Your entire body tenses then slumps down against the mattress, only held up by his strong arm around your waist. Yunho fucks you through your orgasm, through the oversensitivity and the chants of your little whimpers and words.

"too much, 's too much, please, s-stop" but you never use your safe word. You whine and you cry until your limp body is pushed over the edge again, eyes rolling back while you cream his cock, the 2nd time in a short time.

"c-can't," you whimper weakly, "please cum, please — Yunho, please-"

You're begging him so sweetly, voice cracking and body at his mercy. Yunho's hips stutter and his load spills deep inside of you. Your knees buckle under his waist and you whine when the two of you stumble back, his arms wrapped around your chest, all touchy on your breasts.

"You're gonna take my cum all, you little whore. Remember what I said, being my cumslut? Now, take it" he said as he continued pounding into you, getting you over the edge. He didn't lie when he said he'd destroy you, your knees trembling as he closed the gap between the two of you. He then pulled out, pumping his length and his other hand going to your clit over your thigh, sending you shivers down your spine as you squirt once again for the night, now your body being only handled by the hand he used on you.

"What a good whore I have, mm" he mumbled as he came on your back, slowing down his pumps as he slowly puts you down on the mattress.

"See babe? What happens if you're a fucking brat?" he said as he undid the blindfold, looking at your teary eyes.

"What, by the look you have, you want more, you little slut? Is that right?" he said as he slapped your ass.

"Don't worry, I wasn't even close to being done tonight, turn around, I want you to see me fucking you this time."

[megistusdiary]

"𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘰𝘯𝘴"

this was sitting in my drafts for months, and i opened it and realized i kind of cooked on the first 6 paragraphs i wrote, so i wanted to finish it. also, bun yelled at me :(

dom!blade x sub fem!reader x dom!kafka

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, penetration (reader receiving), fellatio, face-riding, fingering, size difference, leash + collar

you tiptoed quietly down the hall, hands busied with wringing and interlocking your fingers as you made your way down to the common area you shared with the other stellaron hunters.

really, it wasn't quite clear if you actually were a hunter, or rather, just a companion of sorts they liked to keep around.

you tried to be quiet, not wanting to wake anyone on the ship as you approached the area.

just as you reached out towards the panel on the wall, the door opened noisily, making you cringe and immediately flinch when you realized you weren't alone.

both blade and kafka's eyes were on you. the sword blade was previously sharpening laid still on his lap, and kafka's gun dematerialized as her lips quirked up.

the fake fireplace crackled behind them to fill the silence as she rose from the couch, trailing her hand across blade's shoulders as she made her way towards you.

"i didn't know you two were still awake." you spoke softly, standing a little straighter when kafka approached you. she pressed her finger beneath your chin, gently lifting your gaze to meet hers.

"couldn't sleep, hm?" she questioned, prompting you to nod.

"i was coming down to sit by the fire. i didn't mean to disturb anyone." your eyes moved away from kafka's, reflecting the orange glow from the fireplace.

"that's alright. why don't you come in for a bit, hm?" kafka leaned down, recapturing your attention as her finger turned your chin back towards her.

"i really don't want to impose-"

"just come in already, or you really will wake up the entire ship." blade's voice came from behind kafka, as sharp as his name.

"it's just us," kafka smiled, removing her hand from your jaw and resting it on your shoulder. she leaned down, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. "we don't bite."

blade let out a soft puff of air at that comment, sheathing his sword and standing from the couch.

kafka stifled a laugh as your cheeks heated up. you nodded, allowing kafka to gently guide you into the room, pressing the panel on the wall behind you, causing the door to lock with a clicking noise.

you glanced back at the door once more before moving further into the room. blade had moved into a different armchair, freeing the couch for you and kafka. "have a seat." kafka gestured, gently pushing you down by her firm hold on your shoulders.

it was rather warm, nearly stifling as kafka sat down near you, crossing her legs in an elegant fashion. her body heat radiated onto you, prompting you to slide over slightly to give her more room.

her lips quirked up, and she leaned towards you. "why so shy all of a sudden? it's just us." her voice was sultry as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her side. she tugged you over to her side of the couch, gesturing for blade to join the both of you.

he was stoic, but he did what she asked, sitting next to both of you, putting you in between the hunters. you shrunk down, feeling their thighs touching yours.

kafka's hand trailed across your knee, up your thigh, your stomach, up past your chest to your chin. she gently held your chin for a moment, lifting it to make you meet her gaze.

"such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" she hummed to herself, gently tilting your face. she peered around you towards her partner. "don't you think so, bladie?" she turned your jaw to face him.

"she's...pretty." is all she could squeeze out of him. she tutted, shaking her head.

"aw, come on. if you keep talking like that, she's gonna think you hate her. tell her how you really feel." she probed, prompting a deep sigh from him.

you looked up at him expectantly, wide-eyed as he frowned. "she already knows what i think about her."

"oh, bladie's so stubborn, isn't he?" she turned you back towards her, her hand on your shoulder trailing down to your waist as she pulled you into her lap.

you knelt over her lap, facing her as she kept a grip on your chin. "such a pretty girl, and he says nothing at all. you deserve better, sweetheart."

"i already have you." comes your reply and she grins.

"oh? are you implying i'm better than him?" she teases and delights in how you immediately try to recover, but she shuts you up by squeezing your cheeks into a puffy pout. "don't sweat it. i already know that i am."

she glances towards blade who is now leaning forward, looking mildly irritated. "who said you're better than me?"

"she did." kafka answers. "unless you want to prove her wrong-"

without warning, he yanks you off her lap, pulling you closer. he holds you tenderly, albeit rather stiffly, on his lap, a hand on your back and another on your waist. he presses you against his chest, his hair tickling your neck.

he was never one to talk more than necessary, so he simply held you there before guiding your lips towards his. kafka grins cheekily at the sight, leaning closer to play with your hair while blade steals the air right from your lips.

"aren't you two just adorable." she gently pulls you back, hearing your soft pants before she kisses you deeper, licking over the seam of your lips.

while blade's kisses were firm and full of caged desire, kafka's were like passion out in the open. there was no reason for kafka to hide her lust for you, so why should she?

her tongue slid across yours, her thumb swiping over your cheek before blade grunted. "you're being greedy, kafka."

"can you blame me?" kafka asked as she pulled away, gently caressing your face. "or is it because someone's a little... pent up?"

her words caused you to glance down, neck heating up at the sight of blade's cock straining through his pants.

"all from a little kissing." kafka hid a laugh behind her hand as she leaned down, breath washing over your ear. "why don't you help our bladie out, hm?" she whispers.

your eyes never leave blade's as you nod, leaning down to free him from the confinements.

his size never failed to impress, even kafka could admit that. you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip as blade let out a soft groan. you dragged your tongue from his base to the tip, traveling up one of the more prominent veins. the precum collecting at the tip was smeared across your lips, giving them a glossy, sticky appearance.

his hand found the back of your head, urging you to take more of him as your lips wrapped around his tip snugly. you slowly inched down, hearing rustling of fabric behind you.

once he hit a little too deep, you let out a little noise of discomfort. he allowed you to pull away a little, fingers flexing as he restrained himself. he let you find a comfortable rhythm, head tilting back as your mouth felt so warm and wet around him.

"such a good girl for us." kafka smiles, gently rubbing your back. "but i think we want to actually see you, sweetheart. come here." she urges you up, hearing the soft pop of blade leaving your mouth as you wipe the spit off your lips.

she tugs your night clothes off, leaving you bare for their eyes as she smiles, appraising you like a work of art. "you're gorgeous." she praises you sweetly, drawing you in for a kiss. her tongue drags over yours languidly, pulling whimpers from you as she drags you onto her lap.

blade fists his cock while he watches kafka smother you in affection, her hand gripping your hip firmly as she grinds you on her thigh. "you're so wet, sweetie. look at that." she coos, pulling you up enough to see your slick coating her thigh.

"i'm sorry-"

"shush, we love a messy little thing, don't we, bladie?" she tilts her head back to smirk at him. she turns right back to you, giving you her full attention. "i think he's getting desperate. why don't we get nice and cozy so we can all feel good." she taps your nose, laying you down before tugging her shorts off.

she rips a hole in her tights easily, settling over your face.

"no panties?" you ask and she laughs.

"what a bold little comment. you're feeling cheeky today, aren't you?" she pinches your cheek before lowering herself onto your tongue.

you feel blade pull your thighs up, spreading your cunt while he slides himself over your clit. you whimper into kafka, wide eyes finding hers as she laughs. "don't be so greedy. at least stretch her out a little first." she chastises blade.

she turns over her shoulder to watch him finger you. he's careful, diligent, ensuring you're ready to take his cock. she hums thoughtfully. "how does she feel?"

"tight....wet. she feels good." he answers, curling his fingers, making you moan into kafka's pussy. she grins, petting your head.

he withdraws his fingers slowly, sliding himself into you gently. his thumb rubs rough circles into your clit to ease the stretch, not wanting to break you just yet.

kafka rubs herself on your tongue, taking the pleasure as she wants it, enjoying your helpless little whimpers, your scrunched up expression as you try to adjust to blade's size.

she moans softly, grinding down while blade fucks you. he grabs your hips, yanking you towards him with each thrust, jostling kafka above you. she feels you feebly grabbing onto her thighs, trying to steady yourself from his rough movements.

"just a bit longer. let bladie feel good, and then i'll take care of you myself." she whispers, petting you.

she allows blade his time with you, letting him fuck you roughly. he prods into your g-spot, sending you spiraling while kafka cums onto your tongue.

once she recovers, she lays at your side, lapping over your nipples, sucking marks into your chest while blade uses you. though, before he can cum, she stops him.

"ah-ah, not inside." she warns, hearing him grunt, annoyed as he pulls out. he strokes himself to completion, spilling all over your stomach while kafka slides two fingers through it. "so thick today. go ahead and fetch my harness."

she smiles at you, wiping the cum off with her shorts before discarding them. blade returns like a puppy, handing her what she needs as you look up curiously. you're still twitching from the orgasm he gave you, yet kafka knows she can do better.

attaching her strap-on to the harness over her hips, she lets you take a good look at what she plans to use on you. it's pink, much like her abilities, and big. she seems to take pride in it, laying it on your stomach to show you how deep she'll be.

"aren't you just the cutest little thing." kafka sighs, kissing your neck, nipping at your chest before sliding her strap inside of you.

and, oh, do you moan for her. it's hot, tapering off into a needy whine as she rubs your clit. it feels different when she fucks you. as if she's using your body to prove a point. as if the only thing she needs to survive is your pleasure.

you thought blade would've disappeared, but he watches from the side, entranced by how well you take kafka, how you sing for her so beautifully. you might even say he's jealous on some level...

she materializes a leash around your neck, yanking at it to get your cunt to tighten up around her. she laughs at how pliant you are for her, easily falling to her whims. "good girl, that's it. just a little toy for me."

she fucks you with perfect precision and accuracy, hitting the spots she knows you love. she doesn't stop, fucking you right through your orgasms, even when you're reduced to mewling and whining beneath her. she merely wipes your tears, changing your position, shoving your head deeper into the pillows.

whatever she desires, she plans to take it from you, leaving you with nothing but dreams of her and her alone.

[bravevolunteer]

THE STUMBLE FORWARDS INTO JEREMY'S HOME— closer to near passing out, if the black spots that prickled at the corner of Michael's blurring vision and the piercing ache that came with losing his balance was anything to judge by— is broken by what could barely be described as a catch ( after all, Michael had given no warning, not even the briefest of explanations for why he was battered and bloody and standing in Jeremy's fucking doorway ), though somehow neither of them manage to hit the floor. Michael doesn't notice the close call. He tries to get back to his feet, at least, but everything is still fucking spinning and the only solid support he can find is shifting his weight to Jeremy's side and clinging for dear life.

Michael is swiftly hit with intense shame. Jeremy's confusion, the other man's palm holding the side of his face for Michael's blood to seep into his fingertips, it makes the reality of the situation grip him in a way that his dazed state had been preventing. It's the middle of the god damn day. Jeremy has work again tonight ( at one of the restaurants, under new management, yet the thought of Jeremy there every night still leaves him unsettled every time he thinks about it ), and Michael seemed to think it was a brilliant idea to drag himself here now.

He still can't quite make out the way Jeremy looks at him, but Michael catches worry in his voice, and with it comes the familiar insurmountable guilt. The same kind that has over and over again stopped him from growing closer to Jeremy, that burrows deep in his chest and finds a way to drive every one of his decisions. It's a sign of exactly what he was afraid of— he is doomed to harm those around him, bleeding all over Jeremy's clothes is only the precursor to the harm he knows will come to Jeremy all because of who he is.

"Got into a fight, sorry..." He repeats, head spinning too much to form anything else coherent. Michael is aware enough to try and follow Jeremy to the couch, at least, falling against the cushions without much grace ( despite the way Jeremy handles him so gently, with more care that he has been used to in a long time ). The adrenaline that carried him all the way here had begun to fade the moment he was given support— no, it disappeared, without any gradual adjustment, only the intense pain bursting through him as he sinks into the couch ( no doubt getting blood all over it, too ). He manages a weak nod— couldn't move if he tried— before tilting his head to lean back, coughing in reaction to the sharp pain up his side.

He barely registers the time Jeremy takes to return ( more focused on keeping himself awake than anything ), groggily lifting his head again at the sound of his voice. "Mhmm... yeah... bathroom. S'fine, it's— not as bad as it looks." It's only when Jeremy pulls an arm around him and lifts him off the couch that Michael's mind begins to clear just enough to process what he said.

Michael is bruised, battered, and bleeding— his head spilling a concerning amount of blood and his ribs aching with every step— and all he thinks about is the way Jeremy talks to him. It’s almost comical, the way he stares at Jeremy as if he has two heads, as if Michael isn't the one who knocked on the door looking like he's been to hell and back. His voice, despite the obvious stress, is soft ( with hints of an accent Michael hasn't really picked up on before ), and he fucking calls Michael darling. The stare isn't offended, not at all, but entirely baffled: is Jeremy like this with everyone? He HAS to be, though that conclusion does nothing to to stop the way he is suddenly incredibly aware of the arm around him. He decides to blame his quickening pulse on the injuries.

"Yeah... yeah... I will," He mutters as they enter the bathroom, still dazed. "It's my fault— I fucked up, I didn't— want you to deal with this, you shouldn't... I guess...I didn't know where else to go."

Michael was lucky Jeremy had even been awake. He was supposed to be sleeping for his shift - it wasn't like he enjoyed sleeping all day so he could clock in at that stupid pizza place at midnight, but it was what he had to do if he wanted to pay the bills. Luckily, he'd forgotten to feed his cat before he'd passed out this morning, so she had decided to protest by jumping from a nearby shelf directly onto his sleeping face just a few scant minutes before Michael happened to arrive.

He'd barely managed to get the wet food on her plate and the can thrown away before he heard the knock at the door, and he squinted towards the front of the house in confusion - who in the fuck would be visiting him at this time of day? Sure, everyone else was supposed to be awake right now, but everyone who knew him also knew that he worked the night shift. Still, he had to go see who it was - he couldn't make out the figure through the fancy, distorted glass window, especially not without his glasses.

Half-jogging across the living room, careful not to let his socks slide on the wood floors, he answered the door, hardly registering the fact that he was still in his pajamas until the door was already halfway open. Too late to worry about that, he supposed. He blinked at the person in front of him, once, twice, willing the blob of color to resolve itself into a recognizable face, until he heard Michael's ragged voice.

"Wait, wha' - Mike?" he stammered out, hardly able to process anything before the taller boy literally collapses onto him. "The Hell?" Pulling back, mostly to steady himself because the impact nearly carried them both to the floor, he supported Michael with one hand taking his weight at his side and the other one coming up to pull his face back into Jeremy's view so he could squint at him some more. It wasn't until his palm slid over the boy's cheek, trailing warm and red and - oh, God, - that Jeremy realized what was going on. His expression didn't exactly lighten, but it changed, going from tired incomprehension to panic and concern. His exhaustion could wait, Michael was fucking bleeding, and that clearly took priority.

"Shit, hon, what happened to you?" he asked, not even registering the way he began to slip back into his childhood accent as he took the entire situation in, mentally falling back to when he was a teen in North Carolina and his little siblings had always been getting themselves hurt. His hand on Michael's face slid upwards - that much blood could only come from a head wound. By touch alone, he found where the slick warmth stopped, skirting around the wound so as not to hurt Mike - he hoped to God it wasn't as bad as it seemed. Head wounds always bled so, so much. Not to mention what other injuries Jeremy might not be able to see at the moment.

Moving so he could slip one arm under Michael's and gently use the other to support his front, he half-guided, half-dragged the boy across the scant few feet to the couch. "Stay right there, alright? Be right back, promise," he murmured, depositing Michael as softly as he could before rushing off to shut the door, grab his glasses, and gather supplies. He shut the cat in his bedroom, not wanting her to get in the way, before digging out his first aid kit and depositing it on the bathroom counter.

"'Right, hon," he started, suppressing a wince as he made his way back into the living room and took in how rough Michael looked now that he could actually see him. "This is gonna suck, and I'm real sorry, but I gotta get you up and into the bathroom. We'll get you all fixed up in there, alright? You're gonna be just fine." His voice stayed soft as he leaned down to help Michael off the couch, worming one arm in behind the small of his back and basically just hefting his entire bodyweight up on his own as he knew that Mike was clearly in no state to do it himself. "I gotcha, darlin'. Just stay awake for me, yeah? 'S all you gotta do. I'll take care of all the rest."

[blakbonnet]

HAPPY FOX DAY TO ALL THOSE WHO CELEBRATE! Today's a special special AOTW because our featured author this week is best beloved @asneakyfox 🦊

Fox, I genuinely think you're one of the greatest fandom philosophers of our times, and what you write is so much more than regular old meta. Because we're all playing in the sandbox here and while a lot of us lose sight of canon sometimes, you have all four feet firmly planted in the lovely source material we've been provided with. And you don't stop there, you try to actively engage with the community, especially making sure you are keeping an eye on all the differing opinions. I feel like this is why your thesis resonates so thoroughly with different people--it's not trying to prove a point, it's very 'holmes saw a dead body and ejaculated'. You are just so smart that you make the rest of us smarter, but it's never intimidating to talk to you, and I love love love that I get to read your stories and your thoughts because of this show and this fandom.

Fox, brilliant as ever, agreed to answer a few questions for me:

What's your meta writing process like? Do you think in disparate strings about scenes and then write them down as they come to you OR is it usually a conversation or a thought that eats at you until you sit down and untangle it?

generally i'll be thinking about something, usually because i saw another post (or had a conversation about the show on discord; special shoutout to the crew on @figmentof and @scarrletmoon's servers, and especially to @glamaphonic, anything i've ever said you thought was really insightful probably came out of a dm conversation with glam) and some part of a post about it will start writing itself in my head, and unfortunately once that process starts the only way to stop it is to write it down.

even more unfortunately i never know whether it's all going to flow out easily into a coherent essay right away, or if it'll be one of those things where i write two really good paragraphs that ought to go in the middle section of a post that takes a while to figure out how to structure; i just have to start and see where it goes. some meta i've written that got lots of notes was written all at once the moment the thought struck me and posted as soon as it was done, but there's also a few that have been sitting in drafts for months as i keep rewriting the same section without being sure where it goes next.

Favourite themes or characterisations you like to explore while meta writing? (things like Ed's fisherman era and what led to it, etc)

i guess if there's a big theme i keep coming back to it's ed's character arc over the course of the show, his relationship with violence and how it affects his perception of himself and how he has to grow through that to be ready to commit to his relationship with stede. one of the very first things i ever said about the show on tumblr, way back in summer 2022, was that ed's absolute deepest fear was that he is fundamentally unlovable, so it was really a delight to see s2 dive so hard into addressing the exact issues i'd been looking at so explicitly. and of course there's also a lot of fandom racism that plays into some takes that go around about ed, and i think it's really important to call that out and push back against those takes.

i feel like it would be kind of silly to not call out izzy here too. izzy plays an absolutely crucial role in highlighting those exact issues in ed's arc, and i honestly just think the way their whole relationship develops in canon is deliciously meaty and a lot of fandom takes seem determined to flatten it out into something much more boring. so it's important to me to try to highlight the ways you don't have to pretend izzy was a secret good guy all along to appreciate the role he plays in the story.

finally i guess this has only developed over the last several months but i guess one of my trademarks now is speculation about what got deleted from s2. i've always been good at the game of watching a movie and guessing at scenes that were cut or changed, and my spider-sense for that was going off like crazy as i watched s2, and i didn't want to get too speculative at first, but as information has actually come out from samba and vico and other sources, a lot of it's lined up with what i thought. and i'm really interested in how the ofmd writers' room approached storybreaking, so it's worth it to me to try to understand this.

Whose head is it easier to get into - Ed or Stede? Why?

i guess i already answered this! i love them both a lot, and i'd been writing meta for a good while before i consciously realized i'd written a LOT more about ed than about stede, and the ed posts tend to be individually longer than the stede ones too. i think some of this is because ed's arc reads super clearly to me while stede, despite being the main character, gets an arc that's a lot more subtle and internal in some ways (and also i do think suffered significantly from the cuts to the second half of s2). and some of it's because people can be Wrong On The Internet about ed in ways i feel the need to push back against more than about stede. but some of it's just, you know, vibe.

it's always interesting to me that nearly all prolific fic authors in this fandom have a clear very strong preference for which POV they prefer - i don't think all fandoms are like that - but i guess my own alignment is obvious.

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

the obvious answer here is the one actual fic i have written for this fandom, "Nothing Could Touch It" which came out of thinking about how there's some post-s2 fic about ed reckoning with this relationship with izzy that i really like but none of it quite got at how i feel like canon's framing it. (don't worry it's not all about izzy! stede's there and there's a bunch of cuddling!)

as far as meta goes though i would call out this as the one i'm probably proudest of, this is the one where i most completely tried to lay out how i saw the show framing ed's relationship with violence during the s1 hiatus, and i think after s2 it holds up pretty well. but also since i was just talking about how i don't say enough about stede, this is the post where i tried to lay out the stuff i really admire in stede as a character.

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

i've got a bunch of verbal tics i overuse but the one i'm self-conscious about in meta lately is "reading against the text," which sounds so pretentious and lit-crit i really wish there were another good phrase for it. but i think it's really useful as a way to clarify that sometimes i'm saying a particular take is clearly not how the narrative of ofmd is framing something but that doesn't mean you need to stop interpreting it that way. reading against the text is really fun and i recommend it sometimes! but you'll have more fun if you're aware that's what you're doing!

If you were writing his arc, keeping in mind that he stays largely antagonistic in line with the show, how would you have resolved the Izzy problem: would you have made the same decisions the writers made and written a redemption by death OR do you think that the spirit of the show specifically demands Izzy get a good guy (or not as bad a guy) ending where we see his muppetification

one of the predictions i was most confident of before s2 was that if izzy were redeemed, he wouldn't be able to remain in the cast as a good-guy crew muppet afterward. (for this reason i thought the likeliest possibility was a slower redemption arc that wouldn't fully complete till the end of s3.) several times i tried to game out what role a fully redeemed izzy could possibly continue to play within this story, or what personality traits that he showed in s1 he could even hang onto after a full redemption, and i couldn't come up with anything that felt plausible. not "loyalty to your captain," because his devotion to blackbeard was clearly toxic at the root and would need to be purged entirely before it could be replaced by anything healthier; not yelling at people to stop having so much fun and work harder, because that could work in a different story but would run directly counter to the core themes of ofmd - so what's left? i went looking at popular izzy redemption fic that tried to address that question, and some of it came up with answers that worked in the context of a fic focused mostly on izzy, but it was never anything that could possibly work in a tv show that already had established themes and would continue to focus primarily on other characters. and izzy wouldn't be able to just fade into the background with the other muppets after all the focus on him a believable redemption arc would require. so i knew once he was redeemed he'd be done as a character one way or another.

and s2 i think bore that out, honestly in a much more obvious way than i expected - over the course of izzy's s2 arc he's basically divested of all his s1 personality traits until all that's really left by the end is saying twat all the time, and Guy Who Says Twat is not a role the story's going to particularly need going forward. to keep him around after that you'd need to give him enough new traits that he'd be for all practical purposes a new character anyway.

i do sometimes wonder about a world where izzy's s2 arc saw him be offered a clear chance at redemption and choose to reject it and get worse instead. i kind of missed antagonist izzy by the end, and i wonder if a lot of people who'd originally wanted a redemption for him wouldn't have been happier with that even if they didn't realize it - a descent into full villainy would have kept izzy and his relationships with both ed and stede more central to the plot right up till the end, and in particular the sexual aspect of his feelings for ed could have stayed very directly relevant, where the redemption arc necessitated resolving that very firmly to clear it out of the way as early as possible in s2. i never agreed that ofmd's themes necessarily meant redemption for izzy was inevitable - ted lasso was much more overtly a show about redemption than ofmd right from the start, and even ted lasso let at least one of its antagonists make it all the way to the end as an unrepentant scumbag. if there's anything that meant izzy really had to be redeemed imo it wasn't the overall spirit of the show so much as izzy's role in ed's arc - before anything else izzy's narrative role was always to be a walking symbol of the part of ed that fears vulnerability and holds him back from committing himself to love, and for ed and stede to be happily together by the end of s2, ed had to get to a place where he could see that part of himself as something he no longer needs in his life but also doesn't hate anymore. nothing could have symbolized that like having ed embrace izzy as he dies granting ed permission to just be himself.

Why OFMD 🥹

you know, i could say a lot here about how i think ofmd is genuinely incredibly well-written in some ways that are really unusual on american tv. season 1 in particular is just incredibly tight and elegantly plotted, and s2 is messier but that just makes it all the more interesting to look at the constraints they were under that led to that. my day job's in narrative and i really do professionally admire ofmd a lot, which is one of the reasons i tend to think about creator intent more than some people do when i'm writing meta - death of the author is a super valid perspective but personally i'm really interested in trying to figure out why the writers made the choices they made and what i can learn from that for when i'm in their position.

so all of that's true. but also we all know it's kind of beside the point here, this is a hyperfixation, it's not rational. i can tell you i watched the first nine episodes of our flag means death and liked it a lot but in what i would describe as a basically normal kind of way, and then i watched the tenth and at some point during that episode a rat inside my brain hit the dopamine spigot with a wrench and now it won't turn off so here we are.

aaaand if you've made it to this point, please join us in evil ganging up on fox with love by sending a lovely letter to them over on @ofmdlovelyletters who was also kind enough to make this header <3

[importantgalaxyrunaway]

Comments- Colby Brock x y/n- part 7-

AUTHORS NOTE: omg guys I am so so sorry just got back into Sam and Colby and decided to finish this in my drafts I had like a paragraph written already. This is my first time back into writing fanfiction since a concussion i had so I’m trying my best sorry it’s so short this is a continuation of my series where y/n got possessed in the last part

warnings: mentions on possession, fluff, slight slight angst,

“Babe” Colby called from his computer “you should come see this”

after me getting possessed I insisted on them posting the video. We were so lucky that we caught it on camera. They were hesitant at first but I said I want people to know what happened. It’s insane that I got possessed but I want people to know what really happened. It was a really scary experience. But I’m still really worried about the video. Would they say I’m just overreacting?. That it was fake and I was just a coward? But I always get some kind of nervous when they post a video with me in it. But this video was special. I still haven’t gotten to watch it yet. I had spent most of the time recovering and spending my time with Colby.

I go over to the computer and see him sitting reading comments. I sit down on his lap, even though he’s just wearing such a simple outfit sweatshirt and comfy pants he still looks hot. I look through the comments and to my surprise they are divided into basically two parts (well maybe 3 with the amount of people commenting “I don’t claim any negative energy from this video”) the first is about how scary it was when I got possessed and how bad they feel for me. The second is how people are talking about how they think me and Colby are dating and that there is so much chemistry between us. Another thing I noticed is that the video went viral. I mean stupid viral, more than most of their videos combined. It had only been out for 5 days and it already reached 50 million views!!! Mostly I think because of my possession from outside viewers who weren’t subscribed but there were plenty of fans. Some of the comments said the following:

Cheriklover333: I feel so bad for y/n she looks so scared I cant imagine how horrible it must feel to be posses like that

kurtwagnerisacinnimonroll: did anyone notice how Colby looked at y/n 😩. I need someone like that and did yall notice her hickeys 😳

Polaris-alt-account: people who think Colby and y/n are dating 👇

that comment had over 500k likes

I groan “shit! Shit! Shit!” I rub my temples “colbs I never wanted this im sorry I dragged you into this—“

“hey hey it’s okay baby” he wraps his arms around me and presses his head on top of mine. The weight of his body on mine feels good. The closeness and warmth feels good. His hands slip into mine and grasp it lightly but firm. He is protective but caring. “You didn’t drag me into anything. I don’t care what people think I just wanna be yours”

I nod but I still have tears in my eyes not much and I feel stupid for crying but I can’t help but think I’m the one that got us into this whole mess. My gaze drifts back to the computer monitor

rosefromtitanic: you guys need to chill yes I see the way he looks at her but they should come out and say it before we jump to conclusions I think they should do a Q and A

a smile on my face appears as a light bulb practically goes off in my brain. My eyes wander to my boyfriend. And again I’m taken aback by just how breathtaking he is…I can see his muscles and I wonder what under his shirt…………snap out of it!! You need to focus.

“colbs how do you feel about about making our relationship public?”

Edit: I TRIED I REALLY DID ITS THE BEST I COULD DO FEEDBACK PLEASE!!! might write a part 8. But x men is currently my hyperfixation and am definitely going to be writing for Peter maximof and young Charles Xavier so if you’re interested send ideas. Going to write for young Coryo snow even though he’s evil he’s hot. Tried my best couldn’t leave you all hanging

[emeraldgreaves]

Ooo I gotta ask about Game Set Match!! Riel my prissy beloved 😌🩵

finish your fics wheneverday

this finally forced me to sit down and organize my notes for this, so have the first go at the beginning!

The study of psychology had long been a point of curiosity for Riel, not only for its patterns, but also for its deviations. Human behavior defied predictability, even when the web of factors governing it should have pointed to a straightforward course of action. For example, two of the more reasonable, intelligent, and generally mature members of his circle of acquaintances were engaged in a baffling inability to hold a straightforward conversation.  He had broached the topic exactly once. Liefred had stared at him for several seconds, then proceeded to ramble distractedly for the next twenty minutes while he tied the board up in knots. (Riel had won handily, though he couldn’t in good conscience consider it a real victory.) Since that conversation, Liefred’s strategizing had taken a two percent hit whenever Moira was present in the same room. Unfortunately, against Riel, two percent was usually enough to make any game twenty percent more winnable.

riel is so funny and i like him so much. basically the question i asked myself was: what would cause Riel to feel compelled to matchmake. and then the next question I asked myself was: what circumstance would make Riel so persistently irritated that he would feel forced to intervene in the matchmaking. can you tell that i have spent a lot of time consuming regency media, because i can LMAO. I need a third paragraph because the transition is very abrupt, but that’s a next draft problem!

[whumpookies]

Hi there,

I am new to the community and your blog  is one of my favorites. I am planning on taking part in my first Whumptober. I am planning on mostly writing but maybe creating some gif sets too.. we'll see. I see you have participated in the past and was wondering if you had any tips because right now I am getting stressed about not getting everything made in time and my planning is an absolute messssss.

Thank you!

I hope your week is full of cookies and other sweet treats.

X

Aww Anookie

Welcome to our part of Whumpler, and well done to you for jumping into the madness that is @whumptober

Seriously, it’s like signing up for a marathon but forgetting how to run while holding a tray of eggs and fighting a Zombie on a Tuesday afternoon.

But hey, you’ve got this (mostly, I think).

First off, remember Whumptober is a challenge for you—not for the world, your followers, or your overachieving mutuals with their perfect mood boards (those mood boards would have taken three weeks and probably a mild dose of losing the will to live, yes even your mutuals get stressed).

So here are a few survival tips from someone who has somehow lived through it:

1. Combine Prompts Like a Pro: If you can blend two (or three... or ten) prompts into one creation, DO IT. This is a game of efficiency, not perfection.

2. Follow the Inspiration: If a prompt is calling your name, do it first. Don’t sit there stressing over a prompt that makes you go “mehhhhhh” when you’ve got a killer idea for one later down the line. Jump around the list, no one’s going to slap your wrist.

3. Perfection is Overrated: Your writing doesn’t have to be a 50k-word magnum opus. Honestly, one-shots, drabbles, or even a glorified paragraph will do. It’s the whump that counts, not the word count.

4. Gif Sets? Just Vibe: If you’re making gifs, go for something that grabs your attention. You don’t need 20 frames of perfection—sometimes one killer moment is enough (trust me @99point9percentwhump can contest this).

5. Don’t Burn Yourself Out: You’re allowed to take a day off. Drafts are your friend, schedule them to the day and pre-tag them; this is not the Whumptober Hunger Games, so pace yourself, hydrate, and binge-watch whump when you feel it getting to much.

Basically, Whumptober is chaos, but it’s the fun kind of chaos. So, stop stressing and just enjoy the ride. You’ve got this, and if you don’t, there’s always next year; participation is just as good as completion! 😉

May your whumperflies be everlasting, and your cookies forever comforting.

[marmaladedcroissant]

First things first, tackling things one at a time, I’m going to go throught the songs and look at their lyrics, and slowly connect them to Darry, I have yet to watch the show, and I could probably piece things together more clearly if I did go and watch it, but knowing me that would make it near impossible to return to this and it would forever remain as a draft to be expanded on. I highly suggest listening to these songs (If you haven’t already.).

Starting off with Inertia:

I was gonna save the planet, but today I got plans

I guess this is just what I am

Focusing on how Darry works to jobs and hardly has enough time for himself, seeing as all the shenanigans the gang seems to get up to, from Dally getting jailed, to Steve and Johnny abusive parents, and evenhis, Soda’s, and Pon’ys own issues, along with keeping up with the bills and making sure everyone is fed and taken care of. Gonna be honest, I feel like Darry sacrificed some of his own health to ensure that they could keep the house or pay the bills on time or just make sure everyone had food, seeing as how the gang practically lives at the Curtis house.

I'm an object in motion

I've lost all emotion

Darry, from Pony's view, looks cold and emotionless, and according to Pony, he’s “hard as a rock and about as human.” (Page 39, fourth paragraph down)

We know that’s not true, everyone feels something, no matter how hard they try not to, and we get to see Darry start to break down a bit, Sitting in the chair, knowing damn well he has work the next day but staying up late, 2 AM, just to make sure Pony is okay, when he very well could have gotten up from the chair and gone to bed, leaving Soda on the couch to wait for their younger brother.

My two legs are broken, but look at me dance

An object in motion, don't ask where I'm going

'Cause where I am going is right where I am

Darry had plans to go to college, and that was what fueled a good part of his and Paul's rivalry, but Darry was unable to go to college, as his parents are killed and he has to step up and take care of and provide for his younger siblings, effectively cutting off an entire section of his life for them, His parents being these legs that are broken, how he’s and object continuously moving, no time to comprehend what’s happening around him and how to handle it, hell, I don’t think he’s even had time to properly mourn the deaths of his parents yet, or even bother to move their things out of what now qualifies as ‘His room’, intentionally leaving their things in the room to feel closer to them, to have more to remember them by, more things to physically remind him of them, and the collective loss.

I wanna move out of this town

But everyone knows me, and packing is tiring

Inertia

Even if Darry were to somehow find a way back to his plans, it would be incredibly difficult. With the amount of memories stored in the house, and it being a designated hang out spot, Darry probably grew fond of the house over time, becoming more and more attached as time goes on, and not only that, but the fact it was something else to remind him of his parents, of everything good that happened because of them. Sure, he could keep the house, keep his jobs, but go to college anyways, but how would he realistically be able to manage all of that? He’d hardly have time to take care of himself, and in the end it would do far much more harm than good. Working to keep a house no one lives in, while trying to better himself and his own life after throwing it all away in milliseconds just to keep his brothers with him for as long as possible.

I wanna be big like my plans, so why'm I so tiny

And why'm I so mad?

It's inertia

Guess this is just what I am I'm stuck in this life, and I'm stuck in these pants

Darry had bigger plans for himself, to go out and go through college, to figure things out as he went but tackling one thing after then next as best as he could, go places, do things, meet new people, experience things he probably hasn’t yet, and find what makes him happy without something holding him back, without something that prevents him from stopping and turning around when he’s oh so close to that gold mine of his dreams, so close he can feel them, only to get called back for one thing or another.

Darry is stuck in Tulsa. He knows this. It’s been hammered into his head so many times now I highly doubt there’s a chance it could change. I firmly believe that he, as a character, knows he was born in Tulsa, that he was raised in Tulsa, and that he will die in Tulsa.

[liminalmemories21]

⭐star⭐

sorry, sorry, my day got away from me.

Okay, let's talk about the three sentences in Knave 1 that are the reason the entire rest of the series exists.

When he hangs up with Captain Strand he hesitates, has a moment where he desperately wants to call his mother and say, there’s this boy, and I think I’m in love with him, and he’s been shot and I’m terrified I’ll never have a chance to tell him that, show him that he can trust me, that we could be great together, can you come hold my hand? But he doesn’t because what would either of them say if he did. It isn’t the kind of thing they talk about.

One, I am low key impressed/appalled that that first sentence is a solid five lines long and has more subclauses than I can count (@cecilyv, someday I'm gonna infect you with this, because it's only fair that this is reciprocal, and you've already sold me on m-dashes). On the other hand, it's a nicely balanced run on sentence, so there is that.

But more importantly, two, this is the paragraph that niggled at me. And made me kept asking - in this universe, how do Carlos's parents find out about TK? What does that look like? (and then later, what if Carlos actually had a chance to say the things to his parents that we never get to see on the show). And then I had two scenes that ended up being the cornerstones of Knave 2 that wouldn't leave me alone.

1 - the diner scene

TK looks up at him warily. "Hey, baby."

He looks exhausted, but the smile he gives Carlos is familiar and warm. Carlos sits down. "Half the city is looking for you, you know."

TK nods. "I figured."

Carlos gives him an exasperated look. "Then why are you here?"

TK shrugs. "It's Thursday. We always come here on Thursdays. I wasn't going to miss date night."

2 - the scene where Carlos comes home from Sunday lunch with his family.

TK’s reading when he gets home, curled up in the corner of the couch. He’s got his laptop open and a pad of paper next to him and he’s making notes with a tiny frown of concentration. He hasn’t looked up yet, which means he’s probably got headphones in, and for a thief his situational awareness is for shit, but it means Carlos gets to watch him for a moment, and he aches with how much he loves this.

He must make a noise, or the movement when he takes his coat off catches TK’s attention because he looks up, pulling out his earbuds. “Hey, baby. How was lunch?”

He hates that that’s a question that TK has to ask, that TK hadn’t been there with him to listen to his tios complain about the price of gas, and his mother whisper that Tia Francesca’s flan is somehow getting worse. And just for a moment he hates that TK never pushes Carlos to invite him, never complains about being left to his own devices on a Sunday afternoon, that TK understands the boundaries Carlos has drawn for himself, and doesn’t ask him to step over them.

And then I had to figure out how to combine them - and eventually I realized that for the heist plot to work, where Carlos believes without question that there's something other than the obvious going on, that you have to see why he has that kind of faith. And thus, split timeline, that I wrote separately and wasn't at all sure was going to work once I spliced them together.

Also, random fun fact - in one of the early drafts of Knave 1, Carlos had two sisters. I ended up cutting them because I wasn't doing anything with them, and they were yet more OCs I had to try and keep track of, and I already had a lot.

Director's Cut asks

[putuponpercy]

Hi I haven't written a fic for this fandom in over a year but I saw the first couple paragraphs in my drafts last night and went in a trance at 1am finishing it anyways here's a little snippet from The Early Days section of my They're Just People AU enjoy

-

Thomas glared at the small flock of seagulls a short distance away, fighting over the small scraps of food Edward threw in their direction. "You shouldn't feed them.”

His colleague merely shrugged. "A little won't do too much harm," he said, chucking another scrap towards the hungry birds.

"Nasty things," grumbled Thomas, shaking his head. "Lost many a decent meal to them back when I was on the streets.”

"Well you needn't have to worry about that now. You're plenty fed.”

A tut and an eye roll was Thomas' only response.

Come to think of it, the young’un had been in a particularly sour mood for the majority of the day. More so than usual. Reaching into his lunchbox, Edward pulled out half a sandwich then held it out to his companion. “Sarnie for your thoughts?”

Thomas wrinkled his nose. “Ain't tuna is it?”

“Chicken and sweetcorn.”

Satisfied Thomas plucked the sandwich from Edward’s grasp, wasting no time in scarfing it down while Edward waited patiently for his colleague to spill the beans. He didn't pressure Thomas, even after the young lad had finished eating and opted for fiddling with the cuffs of his sweater in silence. He knew Thomas would speak up in his own time. For whatever reason, ever since that fateful night the pair crossed paths at Barrow Central Thomas had chosen to put his full unwavering trust in Edward, although Edward wasn't exactly sure why. All he did was offer the lad a hot meal in exchange for getting him and his engine across the bridge.

“Reggie and Bart returned to the Main Land this morning.”

Speaking of.

Edward's brow raised in surprise. “Have they? Huh… that's the first I've heard of it.”

“And Alfie and Raymond are leaving this evening,” continued Thomas. “Isaac and Harry too.”

Humming, Edward grabbed the flask sitting next to his lunchbox. He unscrewed the cap and took a small sip of his tea. “Seems more and more are heading back by the day.” After another sip he gave a reassuring smile. “Worry not, I'm sure it'll be us soon.”

“And then what? What happens after we leave here?”

“Well… I suppose it's back to passenger trains and goods runs across the Furness line. Shame really. Not that I'm complaining, no. But Sodor’s been a breath of fresh air I suppose. Nice to feel useful after…” Edward trailed off, trying to shake off the memories of how his coworkers back on the Main Land often spoke down or belittled him. “Still, the Furness Railway is my home.”

The two lapsed into silence, though it wasn't comfortable, the air still felt as if something was left unsaid. Taking a quick peek at his pocket watch, Edward wasted no more time in packing up his lunchbox. “Right, come along you. Sir Topham Hatt wanted to see us before our goods train this afternoon.”

“Is’at right? What could the Fat Controller want to see us for?”

Edward tsked. “I do wish you wouldn't entertain the other's idea of such a demeaning nickname.”

Thomas waved him off. “Shove off will ya, it's not like we call him that to his face.”

“I dare wonder if that makes it even worse.” Shaking his head, Edward continued, “Regardless, we should make haste. Who knows, perhaps he'll tell us our loan period is up ‘an all. That this time tomorrow we'll be the ones crossing that bridge back to the Main Land!”

“Back to Furness Railway, you mean?” Thomas asked quietly, expression unreadable.

“Precisely.” Tilting his head to one side, Edward frowned. “Hadn't we just gone over that?”

Abruptly, Thomas stood, balling his fists at his sides. “But Edward- I don't work for Furness Railway, remember? You picked me up off the streets because you didn't have a fireman. What's going to happen to me once we go back? They'll kick me out the moment they realise I'm not one of them! I can't go back to living on the streets, Edward - I can't go - I don't want to go back there! I-”

Two warm hands gently clasped Thomas’ own that had found their way up to gripping his hair somewhere amidst his panic. “Thomas, I need you to breathe for me. Deep breaths now, in - and out. Good lad, and again.”

Thomas followed suit, taking a few shaky breaths. When had his breathing gotten out of control? When did he start crying for Christ's sake? His hands slowly lowered from his head, feeling Edward give them one last reassuring squeeze before pulling away. “...sorry,” he said pathetically.

“Don't be daft, you've got nothing to be sorry for,” Edward replied without a beat. His gaze softened. “I should apologise. I had no idea how distraught you had been feeling about all this. I just wished you had brought it up sooner rather than letting it build up like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said again. “It's just that, coming here - to Sodor - has been the best thing to ever happen to me, least from what I remember. I have a roof over me head, I don't have to worry about when my next meal will be, I have a job, and you- Edward you've been ever such a good friend to me.” He paused, batting a hand across his damp cheek. “I'm terrified to lose it all.���

Edward swallowed a lump in his throat at being called ‘friend’. He never had quite gotten along with his coworkers back home, so in a sense, Thomas was his first real friend since joining the railway. He placed a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “I wouldn't be such a good friend if I allowed you to go back to living on the streets, would I?”

Confused, Thomas asked, “But where else would I go?”

Edward shrugged. “Well, while my flat isn’t exactly grand in size I'm sure there's some room to squeeze you in.”

Blue eyes widened. “What? You're saying I can come live with you?”

“I mean- only if you'd like to-”

“Of course!” Thomas cried, leaping over to squeeze the other in a hug. “Thank Edward, thank you! I won't cause no bother I swear!”

Edward grinned. “No bother? That doesn't sound quite like you,” he teased, giving the other lad a pat on the back.

Pulling away, Thomas matched him with a cheeky smile of his own. “Well- within reason, of course.”

“Of course. And I'm sure we can try and get you work on their railway, although the chances are it won't be as my fireman, there are still plenty of opportunities. Even if it's something as giving Old Coppernob’s engine a good polish.”

“As long as it's nothing to do with stinky fish I'm up for anything!”

Chuckling at his enthusiasm, Edward took another glance at his pocket watch and almost gawked at the time. “Right, come along you, we're running late! Don't want to keep the Fat - I mean - Sir Topham Hatt waiting.”

Renewed with energy and anticipation for the future the pair climbed aboard their engine together ready to tackle the rest of the day ahead, unbeknownst to them that the Fat Controller was about to drop the bombshell that Furness Railway had expressed that they now had zero interest in having Edward, nor his engine, return home to them.

[charlesjosephwrites]

Dead Darlings Tag

Thanks for the tag @oh-no-another-idea! This one seems like a lot of fun.

🌑 Rules: Share a part of your writing you love that got cut for the greater good. It doesn't matter if it's a line or a paragraph. It doesn't matter if you might work it back in. If it's not currently in a WIP and you want to share, please do.

I'm gonna pass the tag along up front because this got a bit long. Softly tagging @ahordeofwasps, @wordwizards, @enchanted-lightning-aes, @dontjudgemeimawriter, and anyone else who sees this and has some cut content from their wips they want to share.

Now, without further ado, here's a character I absolutely love who I had to cut from the current draft of The Magician and Ms. Psychic that I've been looking for an excuse to talk about. I do have plans for bringing him into book two, but he unfortunately Does Not Fit into book one.

I put the scene under the cut because it's a bit long. (Also, please excuse the First Draft Rambling™)

There were at least a hundred rats all crammed into the old broom closet. Worn out pillows and blankets were spread out all across the floor, most of which were coated in rat droppings and teeny tiny teeth marks. Sitting cross legged on a thick cushion in the middle of the floor was a middle aged dude with a scraggly beard who didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the fact that there were at least a dozen rats climbing all over him.

"Are you the Rat Man?” I realized how stupid the question must have sounded the moment it let my mouth, but I couldn’t help it.

See, the Rat Man was something of a legend out on the streets. I’d heard countless stories about the man with the army of rats patrolling the city and reporting back to him with whatever juicy gossip they were able to scrounge up. If you needed an inside scoop on what was going on in the streets of Metrovale, your best bet might just be the Rat Man. He’d tell you what you needed to know, alright, but if he got a bad vibe from you, he might tell his rats to eat you.

“That’s me alright.” He chuckled, a soft little noise that may have put some of my anxieties at ease if it wasn’t for the fact that I currently had several hundred rat eyes all staring directly at me. “Please. Take a seat.” The Rat Man gestured towards the cushion on the floor across from him.

As far as I could tell, that cushion was the only thing in the room not completely covered in rat shit. That didn’t exactly inspire me with confidence, but I managed to swallow my pride enough to sit across from him.

“So…” The Rat Man rested his hands on his knees as he leaned towards me. A rat poked its head from somewhere in the mess of curly hair on his head to stare at me with its bright red eyes. “What can I do you for?”

“Well, um…” I tried not to stare, but that was much easier said than done. By some miracle, I managed to shift my gaze down towards my bag. “I brought…” My voice caught in my throat, and I drew in a shaky breath. “I brought lunch.”

I’ve never seen someone so happy to see one of those cheap ass gas station sandwiches in my life. I’d barely gotten it out of my bag before he lunged forwards to take it from me.

“Oh wow. You’re a real peach, you know that?” The Rat Man ripped the plastic wrapper off the sandwich and tossed it aside. A couple of rats grabbed the wrapped and dragged it out of the room.

He’d barely freed that thing from it’s plastic prison before he went at it, chowing down until he was left with just the sandwich crusts. He stared down at the crusts in his hands for a moment, then tore it up into little pieces to toss to all his little rat buddies.

I didn’t realize my mouth was hanging open until he turned back towards me. I tried to play it cool, but judging from the embarrassed smile that tugged on the corners of his lips, he had definitely noticed.

“So uh…” He accepted the water bottle from me with a gracious nod, but he wasn’t nearly as eager to get at it as he was the sandwich. A little sigh fell from his lips as he cracked open his water bottle. “What did you want from me?”

“Well…” I cast my gaze down towards my lap. I couldn’t quite figure out what I was supposed to do with my hands, so I just sort of held them out in front of me awkwardly and hoped that I didn’t look too weird. “I was hoping someone could tell me where I might find that Shapeshifter Guy.”

“Shapeshifter Guy…” The Rat Man echoed thoughtfully, tapping his chin with one long, bony finger. “Let me see…”

The rats all fell silent as he turned towards them. He started making some weird chirps and coos like he was giving a rat speech to all his rat friends. He looked so ridiculous I may have laughed if he weren’t taking it so seriously.

As the Rat Man finished his weird rat-speech, all of the noise in the room quieted down. The rats stared up at him for a few moments before slowly parting to form an aisle in the middle of their group. For a moment, they all stood still, staring up at the Rat Man expectantly. Then, one rat slipped out from somewhere near the back of the crowd, and it ran right up into the Rat Man’s outstretched hands.

“Anton!” The Rat Man chuckled happily. He carefully cradled the rat in his hands as he sat up straighter. “I knew you’d come through for me!”

“Um… it has a name?”

He didn’t even justify my question with a passing glance. He just lifted the rat up to his ear to listen to it squeak away, presumably letting him in on all of its juicy rat-secrets. The Rat Man listened intently, nodding along for several moments before he finally turned towards me.

“I have an address,” he said. “Do you have something to write it down with?”

I couldn’t help the little frown that tugged down the corners of my lips as I patted around in my pockets for my phone. “Do rats even understand street addresses?”

The Rat Man’s mouth gaped open slightly, like he couldn’t believe I would even ask that kind of question. “They understand a lot more than you think they do.” He looked me up and down, nose wrinkling up in thought. “Magician.”

[naranjapetrificada]

Fanfic Friday for better or worse

It's another somber Fanfic Friday for those who love the gay pirates but I'm in whatever stage of mourning that "defiance" fits in. Recs at the bottom, and have two paragraphs I badly want to keep in my AU WIP's chapter 2 but might have to get bumped to chapter 3 if this draft gets any longer:

Beyond his appreciation of a good story, Ed doesn't have all that much time for gods. But given his impending journey south, he's started developing a kind of reverence for tradition. It sits in the part of his body designated for things like faith and dogma, which until fairly recently had been pretty hollow. Whatever organ or muscle occupies that space now has got him staring at the sky a lot lately. Not as much as one of those ascetic shamans of legend – people who glared at the sun till their vision burned away or spent nights on their backs in the steppe grass, scrying the stars for divine messages – but certainly more frequently and more thoughtfully than he ever has before.

One clear night last week Ed had even sought out the north star to make a vow to the Weaver Maid as she teased the threads of fate with her clever fingers. He had felt a little silly, until he remembered that it was his grandmother who first told him the Maid’s tale of longing for her beloved herdsman until their annual reunion in the eastern sky. Ed went to bed that night tugging on a thread of his own, long and unbroken, stretching back to whoever it was that told his grandmother the story, and whoever told that person, and whoever before that.

I'm still here, you're still here, and we're still keeping these characters and their story alive, even with our weirdest and least canonical AUs. No emotionally bankrupt executive can take this from us, or from the characters we've come to love.

ps since I think (?) Fanfic Friday is actually supposed to be about making recommendations, can I suggest that if you're feeling tender about all this, you might try some fics to help you find some comfort or catharsis or things to ponder? Or possibly just something that's incredibly, blood-glucose-skyrocketingly sweet?

[frenziedslashers]

Ayo! Ima be honest there, this fic with wounded Handsome Jack x Reader was the first one where I didn't skip a single word, like aaa u did it so great!

I had a thought about something oppsite - where it is the reader who gets hurt, and HJ is the one saving them and taking care... likeeee AAA.... it could be fluff, or something more dramatic and bloody, whatever you thing would be great :D I just can see it written great by your talented hands

This literally made me smile so much??? I am so scared to post Jack content because I always feel like I butcher his character (I have a couple drafts that I have been working on. They are pretty much ready to post, I'm just a little scared. I swear I am not ignoring the Jack asks 👹). I am honored that you liked it that much though! As someone who has read nearly all the xReader Borderlands content on ao3, I totally get that... Some nice I had to skip paragraphs because it was either too ooc or just... Odd... I forget how scary some borderlands fans are 😟 There are a lot of pics on there that I adore, but I feel like every fandom has those pics that you just physically cannot finish. So I am glad that my Jack was good enough 💪💪 ALSO thank you for the love homie. glad you sent in a request! I love me some angst that leads to fluff 😌

Flying Bullets:

"More incoming!" Jack screamed over your com, a grunt leaving your throat as you slammed your body against a crate in a poor attempt to avoid the bullets that flew overhead. You had no idea how you got yourself into this mess. Let alone with Handsome Jack. You knew he was bad news. Everyone despised him, but you still saw him as John, who simply worked with you for Hyperion and was incidentally your best friend as well.

You saw him as the guy who you would sit with alone for lunch break. The both of you talking and laughing over nothing. The friend that would take you out for drinks after a hard day of work and even hit on you here or there. Though, nothing serious ever happened between the two of you.

"Kiddo, answer me!" You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Jack's voice screaming into your ears. It made you flinch, a cringe settling on your face. "I hear you, Jackie." You responded, shooting a couple times at the Raiders that ran out into your line of sight.

"Are you able to get to where I'm at?" You huffed a bit. As if you would know exactly where he was without him sharing his coordinates. "Where's your location?" "I'm up near the front gate. If you get here we can get to a ship out of this shit hole and back to Helios!" He spoke, and you groaned again. Your shield was low and broken. It wasn't recharging anymore. A problem that you were almost scared to tell Jack. The confrontation would go either one of two ways. He'd freak out, worry, and throw himself into the line of fire to make sure you were safe. Or he'd freak out, worry, and then yell at you for being so stupid and agreeing to go with him to Pandora with a shitty shield.

"Can you do that?" You pondered, "I can try."

It was a hard task to complete. You figured if you did die in this fight you may as well go out guns-a-blazin'. Shooting round after round into the Crimson Raiders that tried to take you down. You nearly made it to Jack, too. If it weren't for a Raider you missed shooting you once, breaking your shield. Then twice, a fatal shot to your back.

The scream that ripped from your chest had your head pounding, and Jack's heading whipping towards you.

"Kid," He stammered, "Kiddo? Pumpkin?" His voice wavered, and then something clicked in the guy. If your vision wasn't blurry from the pain as you lay on the ground. You would have seen the glint of rage behind the mans eyes. The way his face shifted from concern to pure rage. It made the few remaining Crimson Raiders freeze up. Knowing Jack was going to be putting up a hell of a fight.

Screams and gunfire were all you could hear in your ringing ears. You could hardly decipher the screams of the dying to Jack's war cries. If you weren't dying yourself, you might actually feel a bit scared, but right now you could hardly care. Gasping and wincing while lying helplessly on the ground. You could hardly move without your whole body sending shocks of pain through itself.

"Hey, hey," His hand on your back made you cry out again. You hadn't even noticed that Jack was at your side now. Attempting to tend to your wounds to get you back home. Back to Helios where you would be safe and someone could save you. "I know, I have to look at it!" He snapped, but quickly cleared his throat. "Dammit, sorry. I just need to see it. I'm not trying to hurt you, pumpkin." He told you, trying his best to be careful while he moved your clothing up so he could see the wound a bit better. Your cries making him wince himself. You'd think he would have been shot, too. Just from hearing the pathetic noises you were making.

"Oh shit, God this is bad. Why didn't you tell me your shield was low? I could have came to you!" There it was. Option one of how you expected him to react if you would have told him your shield was down. You wanted to smile, laugh a little at how well you knew your friend, but your thoughts were quickly pushed aside when Jack decided to apply pressure. A scream left your throat, and your vision went blurry. It was too hard to stay awake no matter how much Jack pleaded with you to keep your eyes open. You hadn't realized how much he really cared for you until you were nearly meeting your Maker. Vision finally blurring enough that all you could see was black. Your senses dulling, succumbing to the darkness once you passed out in his arms.

Jack had no idea that you had just passed out, though. He thought you died, but that didn't stop him from picking your body up from the ground to carry you back to the ship. He was just thankful that he had people on there to pilot it for him, and some health to at least give you a slight boost until the two of you made it back to Helios.

He refused to let you go until those doors opened. Continuing to apply pressure after he had wrapped his belt and one of his jackets awkwardly around your middle to help stall the bleeding. There was so much blood. His clothes were soaked. His skin was sticky with sweat and blood. The thing of it is, he didn't even know if it was all your blood. Some of it had to be from the Raiders he killed after you were shot. His anger getting the best of him like it regularly did.

"Sir, you need to let them go." He looked up at the nurse in front of him. "What?" His voice was shaky. "I need you to let them go and put them on the table now before they lose any more blood. I need to get them into the infirmary, now." They stated sternly, and Jack nodded with understanding. Laying you reluctantly on the bed. These were his own men and women working for him, but he was so scared to trust them with you. You were the only good thing he had left that was connected to his old life, rather than Angel. You were almost a better memory holder than she was, though. With her being the reason her mother died and all.

It wasn't until later that night, nearly five hours later that Jack was informed that you were in Critical, but stable condition. He knew you wouldn't be able to help him with his plans for the next coming weeks, and honestly, he was glad. Not that he didn't enjoy your help, he just always worried about your safety. This call was too close for comfort. It nearly made him postpone his plans of finding the Vault, too. If it weren't for the fact that he was literally the man's most wanted by the Vault Hunters themselves. That didn't stop him from trying to take care of you to the best of his abilities, though. Even going as far as sending people to check up on you when he was away from Helios.

"Jack," you would say his name, and he would be there. Holding your hand, offering food, water, entertainment, whatever it was you asked. He was giving it to you. You were his light after all. The brightest star in his galaxy. Even if he didn't show you how much he cared, often. He truly did.

It was almost weird for you. He was always so snarky and rude with you. Even if you knew that was just how he showed his affection. How he told you that he loved and appreciated you as a friend without telling you those exact words. You almost weren't sure if you liked how nice he was being with you.

"Why haven't you called me an idiot." He looked up from the book in his hands over to you with raised brows. "Excuse me?" "When I nearly got myself killed. I expected you to at least call me stupid for it. I didn't tell you my shield was broken and not recharging, and yet here you are. Being all sweet and nice to me. It's kind of scary, honestly... You aren't a doppelgänger, are you?" Jack smiled as he placed his book down in his lap. "Well, now that you say it. I did forget to tell you how utterly idiotic that stunt was and if you ever go pulling it again I will personally revive you just to shoot you again." Jack told you, and that caused a smile to form on your own features. There he was. "Oh, so I should have just ignored direct orders?" He rolled his eyes with a sigh. "No, you should have told me what was happening and I could have come to help. You really think I like putting you at risk?" Well, it seemed like it. With the number of close calls you have had, and then this.

He sighed at your lack of a response. "I don't. I really don't. I only take you along because I know you'd find a way fighting those assholes without me or with me. I may as well be there to revive you when you decide to do something stupid." You rolled your eyes this time. "Didn't realize you actually cared about me." He froze up when you said that. You were only joking, and you thought that he could tell, but obviously that seemed to strike a chord with the man before you.

"Oh, so you think I don't care about you either? What the hell has the past few weeks been? I've laid off finding the fricken Vault for you! I've been by your side, making sure you don't die on me and you think I don't care about you?" He shouted, tossing his book to the side while standing to his feet. "Why don't you fill me in on what it is I feel about you then. Why every time I see you I want to blow my brains out because of how much I care about you. Shit, it's annoying, honestly!" Jack started approaching you. Slight more weight to his steps than usual. Obviously pissed and growing more so by the second. "I could have left you to die." He told you, a slight grin on his face as he laughed out of disbelief for himself. "Hell! I would have left any one of my other employees or skilled assassins there to die! But I just couldn't fricken leave you there, now could I? Not when you're the one real thing that I have anymore."

Your eyes were wide. Staring up at the man who was looming over you as you lay on the bed. You looked a little scared, but you were more so taken aback by his words. Yeah, he was basically saying he would have left you for dead if the two of you didn't have a connection, but he was also admitting things that you never thought you'd hear from him.

"I don't mean to yell," Even though that seemed to be the only thing he knew how to do. "I just... I hate that you would even suggest that I don't care about you. I mean, c'mon! Look at everything we've been through!" He exclaimed as he sat on the bed beside you.

Yeah. Everything the two of you have been through. Working together. Getting fired together. Jack gaining power. You gaining power through Jack. Late nights together. Even an attempted date before his ex had come along. It was a lot, and you regretted making him think that you thought he didn't care.

"Jack, I'm sorry. I was just joking around." You admitted, reaching out to grab his hand. His eyes darted down and then back up to study your face. "Could you ever forgive me?" He pondered, a smile creeping on his lips. "Oh, I don't know. I guess I could forgive a cute thing like you." A sigh left your lips, tapping the top of his hand. "If I didn't know any better. I'd say you were flirting with me, Jackie." The way you purred out his name in such a teasing way made his blood boil. Out of annoyance at the nickname, and slight excitement from just the sound. "Well, I could be if you wanna interpret it that way, pumpkin." His hand reached up to brush your chin with his thumb. "I think it's your turn to be called out for your ignorance of my own emotions." His brows furrowed, sighing at his dumbfounded expression.

"So... Was that a yes?" "Jack," "Huh?" "You're as oblivious as the day I met you." He stared at you for a moment longer. "I'm saying yes, Jack. Jesus Christ and you're supposed to be the flirt of Helios?" He let out a groan of his own before carefully maneuvering himself over top of you so he could lay on the other side of you on the bed. "Oh shut it, you're the one overcomplicating shit." He huffed, carefully pulling you close to him to hint that the both of you needed a nap. Whether you wanted one or not. "Just shut up and sleep. We can talk about our stupid emotions later. You ruined the moment by calling me an idiot." "Oh, like you haven't been calling me one for the past 10 minutes. Plus I didn't even call you one!" "Well, that's different, and yes you basically did. I'm not arguing further." "Fine."

[cfsten]

WIP: Valkon

For the 11th Sharetember prompt, "Share a WIP", I've chosen the first two paragraphs from the first draft of my first (to be published) story:

"Humans are a curious lot. They are usually present in any story you read, yet you’d be forgiven for thinking the authors must have had some disagreements regarding their nature. Some are as fragile as feathers, others as sturdy as stones. Some can move mountains, others can barely bend a stick. Indeed, there seem to be many different types of these creatures, but this story does not revolve around them. 

Please, forgive my fantasy and suspend your disbelief, as I am about to shift your focus to a much different, yet in many ways very similar, kind of people. But first, let us get a general sense of where we are. We do not have a map."

Valkon isn’t the first story I’ve written, but it’s the first one I’ve decided to publish. Set in the old Scandinavia of folklore, this tale takes you on a journey of self-discovery. 

Moving into the winter season, I thought a fairytale told by an old man sitting in his favourite armchair by the fireplace would be a nice way to introduce you to my writing. I’ve been working on this story for a while, and I’m both anxious and excited about sharing this world with you. Right now, I’m considering whether I should release it as a book or a serial where you discover Valkon’s journey bit by bit. What do you think - would you like to see it in parts?

[thisliminalspacedaydreams]

Hey, Mar! Since you've reblogged my post about the ask game, I thought I'd give it a shot.

I've read a lot of your amazing fics, but the first one was Echoes in Eternity and I will always love it, so I wanted to ask numbers 2,3 and 17 about that one.

Answer what you're comfortable with and have a nice day!

Hi!

Oh my god Echoes in Eternity my beloved first jump into fanfiction as an adult. My hiatus child. My forgotten baby in the corner. Actually this might bring me back to it. Let's go have a snoop!

2- What is your favorite paragraph from EoE? Is there a reason it’s your favorite?

I actually got a little stuck with this story a while back, and introducing Panville gave me so much energy and passion. This passage (the first paragraph, but the entire thing actually) is still vividly imprinted in my brain. I would write it very differently now, but I think you start to see my special voice come through here, and it’s really special to me 🥹.

3- What is the most amount of research you’ve done for the smallest detail? What was the detail and how much time/effort went into researching it?

For EoE, I planned so much. I have 2 entire notebooks of information about gladiators and gladiators fights and working in the roman army. I read Gladius: The World of the Roman Soldier, The Gladiators - Historical Novel: A Tale of Rome and Judea, and I read a book about ancient fighting techniques. I’ve never really used much of it, because I ended up not expanding in the way I thought I might do, but the entire gladiator/werewolf system was fully fleshed out before I even started the story. I started researching in June and started writing in September. I have… so many notes on the Hogwarts Gladiator system, I could write a “The world of EoE” sidefic.

I think I really had this illusion of grandeur when I started, that it would be a book in 3 parts, and I just didn’t think that I’d… lose interest? I easily read big fics (150K+) and kind of thought that EoE would be that, and that I would spend a LOT more time in the Dome having Hermione really get into the ranks and the entire system. But then I just wasn’t really… I could tell I wasn’t going to be able to finish, that I would lose interest too fast, so I made a few changes. I still plan on finishing the last 2 chapters, half of one is already written. But it’s hard to wrap up a story you’re no longer fully involved in, especially when you know there are a lot of people waiting for that update. I don’t want to disappoint, so I’d rather take my time.

17- What does your editing process look like?

I have a lot of flaws as a writer, but my two main ones is that I don’t know how to write a satisfying ending (finishing anything is not a habit of mine), and that I don’t know how to write a scene either. 

I often tend to write the entire dialogue, with the most basic, boring stage direction “he looks”, “he shrugs”, “he turns”, and then I go back and try to make it bearable for you guys. 

Green and I also tend to send each other bits and pieces of stuff and go “does that even make sense”, because we tend to get lost in metaphors.

I also put a lot of placeholders because I’m French and can’t always remember the word I’m looking for.

And sometimes I have stuff like this and it’s up to me to then remember what the hell I was talking about:

Scene : “You think I didn’t know about your sneaking into my library?” “Library?” “Books.”

But generally speaking I’ll sit down, write the entire draft of the next chapter in one go, and then spend either hours, days or weeks adding in the forms to make it pretty.

Thank you for the ask and for bringing me back to Echoes 🥹 my beloved forgotten child.