#It’s very special to me - writing it has been so cathartic.

[gunkbaby]

is bulimic misandrist rize like. an acceptable concept to ppl or is my fic gonna be hated into oblivion

[cc-kote]

God I am so insanely proud of this gd novella of a fic I've been writing for the last month or so. I have the whole thing mapped out (3 acts, but the third act is separated into 2 parts) and act 1 is nearly finished. I just can't believe how much I have done already. For the last 5 years I've been struggling so hard to write anything consistently, like I had my own original stories planned and bits and pieces of them written but I struggled so hard to make the plot coherent and the characters dynamic and it was making me feel so sad and unenthusiastic abt writing. And then I fuckin watched TROS and got so pissed abt how dirty they did my faves that I was suddenly inspired to write my own self indulgent af fix it fic 😂😂😂

It's just so funny to me that the driving force behind me getting back into the swing of writing stories was being so deeply unsatisfied with the fates of my favorite characters that I felt the overwhelming need to take matters Into my own hands and rewrite it in a way that panders to what I want for them.

[morbethgames]

Halloween Special, Current Projects, New Patreon Content

I am so sorry about the radio silence as of late. Between the stuff earlier this week (yes, that stuff), dealing with deaths of people, and university; I've been very busy and mentally drained. However, the good news is, you can play the mini game of The Bureau, "Witchy Woman" right now! The link is at the bottom of this post! Eventually I'll integrate it into the main game, or put it out as potential free DLC or something, but for now there are no stats and it's not tied to choices from the base game.

Tonight is a special case. The MCT has been called in as a favor after finishing up our most recent case. A friend of Kris's reached out, and the local P.D. has let the MCT take the lead on this one. A house party in the beginning of October up in Maine has turned sour. A party-goer has been reported deceased.

We just finished a job, but in this line of work, there's always another case to solve. So here I am, approaching the residence with my team, about to find out exactly what happened on this cold, damp night.

Because it's not part of a bigger game or story, and the only pacing I had to worry about was that of the investigation, this is much more freeflow than other investigations in the main story. Go back and forth between the crime scene, the perimeter of the house, interrogations, and more! The more you discover evidence, the more new options will unlock in conversations, and you have an evidence log in the stats section that updates every time you find out something relevant to the case.

I'm only promoting this now, even though it's been done for a couple of weeks, because it was part of a Jam and I didn't think it would be fair if I got votes from a community built over a few years when others in the Jam would not have had that same benefit. I wanted it to be an even playing field, even if it meant holding out for a bit. So, I apologize for making you all wait.

There are still things I'd like to do for this game, things I'll end up adding, but it is at the very least ready to play. It's 40k words, so have at it!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Right, next up, something I'd like to announce. I'm working on a serialized fiction that I'm (hopefully) planning to turn into a book. The first 3 chapters are going to be posted for free, both here on my blog and on my Patreon, though not quite yet. Chapters after that will be released on Patreon for the people who pay the $5 tier.

I'll be honest, it has been extremely cathartic to go from writing an IF where the chapters are all pretty much the length of a book themselves, to writing an actual book where a chapter is about 4k words. It's a very nice breath of fresh air, and it by no means, entails that I will stop working on Bureau. In fact, it may even help speed up rate of production, funnily enough. Having something to keep my mind turning while having writer's block about a scene in the IF will help me constantly generate ideas, and that's really nice to think about.

A small college town is rocked by a horrific murder. In wake of the events, a couple of friends begin investigating this personal tragedy, determined to get to the bottom of what happened at the Scribe City college. The lesson is quickly thrust upon them that loss leads to pain, but pain is temporary, and loss can be forever. So what comes after the pain? They need to explore that journey together, and in the process, navigate the complicated things feelings that have started to bloom.

The book (serialized fiction for now) , called Love In Stasis, is going to be a 'WLW romance small town college murder mystery'. You will explore the relationships that these characters have and continue to form, and just how messy things get when tragedy sparks love. I have almost 25k words done for it, about six and a half chapters, and I'm going to try to get 50k words done with it by the end of the month. A writing challenge that's totally not tied to the name of any organizations.

If this works out, I could reward patrons with static fiction while not having to worry about providing everyone with constant things tied to the IF itself, and I could work on The Bureau at a pace I'm very comfortable with.

I'm still learning as a writer. I'm still learning new things I like, and how I like to produce content. All I know is that I like producing art in the form of writing, and I most certainly will not stop doing that anytime soon, and now that the Halloween Special is done, I will be getting back to the base game.

Which will start with a complete recoding of the gender variables. I've already started on that process, so no more multiple versions of each chapter. One version. One set of gender variables. Much more condensed coding and script. So, people out there who said that wasn't going to change, I just have to say what I'd said all along. My coding was indeed bad. However I will also say something else I've said all along. I do take criticism.

That being said I'm never using multi-replace and you can't make me. I like being able to read what I'm writing.

More to come in the near future.

Stay Brilliant,

-Vi

https://cogdemos.ink/play/viisbae/the-bureau-halloween-special-witchy-woman

Patreon Link

[wufflesvetinari]

ok fine, wyllstarion rec list

the demons bade me write this. i have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings and a fabulous bookmarks list. come with me....and you'll be.......in a world of pure wyllstarion nation

note that this is like. an intermediate/advanced, 201-level list. i am trusting you, and assume you've already read asidian's body of work. you've read nothing is safe. you're reading Nothing Like the Sun &etc. Really anything that appears on the first two pages when sorting by bookmarks/kudos is disqualified due to pre-recognized excellence. (you could, however, go read them again)

are you back? good. now read:

"We Happy Few" - @geometea. listen to me. listen. i am looking deeply into your eyes. read this fucking fic. it's hard to shill without spoiling anything, BUT: wyll is a still-pacted grand duke. he used to have a bunch of unresolved romantic tension with astarion and now hasn't spoken to him for 15 years. now take that premise and add body horror, beautiful ominous surreal images, and SURPRISE BIG EMOTIONS. just trust me on this one, guys

"Crossed Blades" - @rebelontherocks. this is a...i think i have to call this a cozy sex romp. wyll and astarion are married, wyll is a busy duke, astarion needs more enrichment, astarion invents a very silly sex game by roleplaying teenage-wyll's smut books. wyll is So Deeply Into It. i love this fic for its characterization, its banter, and its commitment to paralleling character psychology to what sounds like an absolutely wild in-universe smut series (that is sketched with an impressive amount of detail and care tbh??).

"Comfort" - @acephalouscreature. short and sweet. wyll is injured and everyone expects astarion to take care of him. luckily, astarion has a dastardly plan to fake feelings for wyll by thinking about his feelings for wyll. you sure fooled them, astarion!! also featuring: astarion trying to figure out how to comfort someone by thinking about horses

"False Compare" - @jellyfishline. i'd recommend checking out their work generally, but i fell in love with this one first. wyll writes a sonnet! astarion is mean about it until he isn't! deeply in-character with an emphasis on how each of them communicates affection. gorgeous prose

"how to escape the torment nexus" - @ushauz. this series is incredibly unique, set in a fucked-up bad end where wyll is a lemure, astarion is still on the run from cazador, and almost everyone else is dead. where this really shines imo is wyll's POV: he's been through literal hell, doesn't remember his life, and is wading through his unconscious attachment to astarion like a foreign language. (side note also read Heart of Stone for a great lae'zel character piece)

"An Acorn in the Moonlight" - @anonyhex. this is one of the first wyllstarion fics i ever read and it has a special place in my heart!! it's particularly cathartic to read for Wyll reasons, including him actually getting to Have Emotions about what Ulder put him through. and they are so sweet with each other!!

"temporal displacement" - @purplecatghostposts. ok this came out like. yesterday but listen, i LOVE outsider pov of an astarion who's learned to show affection somewhat, seen from the eyes of someone who doesn't know his history and has no reason to suspect All Of That. and when that "outsider" is a dying 20-year-old wyll who just saw astarion step out of a time portal. well.

"nothing to make a song about" - @grey-wardens. for when you want something meaty and casefic-adjacent, set in a post-canon where wyll is the blade and not the duke (for once). contains bonding on the road, getting romantically snowed in together, and Symbolic Fetch-Quests.

i am also watching closely: "One of Those Prince-Types" by @lesbianralzarek and "sigh no more" by @tomorrowsrain. both are one chapter in and promise to be meaty, with execution that already feels very very promising

SPECIAL MENTION TO "Like Death (or Birth)" by The_Dancing_Walrus, which has some fraught implied background wyllstarion and is just generally completely baller. astarion kind-of sort-of accidentally adopts yenna, who got fucked up by her time as a potential sacrifice to bhaal. it works! i promise it works

EDIT 1/12/25: now with part 2!

[duskandcobalt]

lol I just went to check when it’ll be a year since I posted my first fic thinking that it was October or November but turns out it was in fact September 18, 2023 and I am almost a whole month late 😅

When I posted that first fic, I thought I’d maybe post a couple more and then be done. I never expected to still be writing a whole year later which goes to show just how real and consuming the elriel brain rot can be.

I’ve had a very rough year but I am so, so thankful for this community and for all the lovely friends I’ve made since I started posting on here. I don’t want to get super sappy but writing has been so cathartic and such a wonderful escape from reality for me and it is incredibly special to know that a few people get a bit of joy out of my dumb little stories.

I’m so eternally grateful to have found this space because when it’s good, it’s goooood 🥲

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Ahw such a lovely ask, thank you, anon! 💜

(I've been feeling some kind of way about my writing lately and yeah, the self-love is...very much needed atm 🥲)

Here goes:

You, Blinding Like the Sun : This was the first BG3 fic I wrote, telling myself I just need to get this one out of my system and call it a day. Yeah, it's been a year and although I wish I'd written more BG3 content, it wasn't the last BG3 fic I wrote, obviously. I really like the pacing and structure of this one and it's also the basis for the long fic I've procrastinated writing all year :D

Darling, Mind if I Enjoy Myself? : This is one of my favourites because it was my first time writing smut which was way out of my comfort zone at the time and really made me grow in my writing abilities imo (even if the writing process was very frustrating—but totally worth it lol)!

Daybreak Ballads : While Darling, Mind if I Enjoy Myself frustrated me most of the time, Daybreak Ballads aka smut #2 was just super fun to write. I really like the way I portrayed Astarion in this one and, yeah, it was just really fun in general.

The Scent of Missing Buttons : Wrote this in a frenzy and, although I am not entirely happy with this fic as a writer, I got incredible and invaluable feedback on this one. I'm just really touched that people found this fic to be cathartic and trusted me enough to share some very personal things with me, so this fic has a very special place in my heart, always.

Summer Days Gone : Okay so, idk if this is a favourite-favourite story and writing-wise but this was the first time I wrote something with a functioning brain (thanks, Lisdexamfetamine!) and also the first writing project after a massive writing block (though we're not out of the woods yet). It really made me think about Astarion's character and although I love the guy, I feel like I was appropriately mean to him in this one lol

[frownyalfred]

Your new fic came at the end of a string 3 days only getting 3-4 hours of sleep (unusual for me) so now I’m just saying it was pre-game for the fic. So I can better relate 😂

Amazing timing for an AMAZING fic

We’re all sleep deprived rn huh? It’s awful. I got caught up in the Delta outage so most of my sleep deprivation has been on airplanes, which is a special kind of hell.

Thank you so much! It was very cathartic to write, but I was worried half the jokes were only funny because I’m exhausted.

[tailsbeth-writes]

Thanks for the tags @dizzymisslizzie @run-for-chamo-miles @onthewaytosomewhere & @porcelainmortal!

This year has been a busy year (not just fic wise tbh), I wrote 86,387 words across 7 fandoms thanks to Ficlet Fridays. That became a proper thing, thank you for sticking around for my silly prompts (it will be returning in the new year but the regularity of it might change cause my work year is hectic). I'm going to summarise my full fics but click here you wanna check out my ficlets. Round up under the cut ✨

January

a frightening magic I cling to | 1.7k | M

After an indulgent Christmas, Henry battles with body image issues. Alex tries to pull him from his demons the best he can.

This fic was cathartic as hell and there's a much longer sequel in the works that I'm taking my time on.

By now, I thought I'd be over it | 1k | T

Watch party at the Brownstone, Henry's got a lot of feelings and as usual, Alex filters his coffee more than his mouth. What could go wrong?

A request that I actually think I could handle better now as a writer.

Alex Vs Goodreads Trolls | 3.5k | T

Henry is in the UK for the launch of his book, leaving Alex to his own devices. He's got an internet connection & a bottle of scotch, what's the worst that could happen?

Written purely for my own enjoyment, I think this is as close to canon Alex behaviour as I've got tbh.

March

Her Royal Highness | 5k (WIP) | T

How Prince Henry ended up as a guest judge on RuPaul's Drag Race UK.

Can't believe it was so long ago I updated this! It is high priority for the new year.

Mary & George & Henry | 4.1k | M

When Mary & George is announced, a certain prince is incredibly happy about it. Henry (and Alex)'s reactions to the series.

Minimal plot, silly times. I might do another react fic cause this was fun, if anyone has ideas I'm all ears!

April

i try hard to get back inside your arms alive | 1.2k | T

Alex learns about bi-erasure.

This fic's comments are a big bi group hug and I'm so glad everyone felt comfortable sharing. 🩷💜💙

it's still reserved for me | 0.5k | T

Alex wakes up feeling poorly & the only cure is hugs from Henry, of course.

A prompted drabble, classic sick fic.

May

Ain't it fun to hold the world in your hands? | 11.5k | M

Alex allows himself to finally play with gender

The beginning of my Bigender Alex AU, my beloved. This was definitely my way of processing and the response helped me so much.

You’re going to be the death of me, babygirl. | 1.3k | M

Alex has an emotional response to an online trend and Henry uses the bedroom for a moment of healing.

Part 2 of Bigender Alex AU. Inspired by Nick Galitzine chronically being called babygirl online if I'm honest!

July

I could speak (or just let my body explain) | 6.4k | M [Co-written with @run-for-chamo-miles]

Five times Alex expresses her gender publicly (+1 time he expresses himself privately).

The third installment of Bigender Alex AU & my first collaboration! Writing this with Elle was the pure escapism I needed at the time, I loved writing with them & I'm so excited to do it again hopefully in 2025.

November

lost in the revelry (lost in the make believes) | 5.1k | T

When Alex is sick with the flu and June can't make it to NYC due to a storm, she calls in Henry to help. Alex is less than pleased...

My fic for @taste-thewaste as part of the @anywhere-with-you-event. I signed up to this to challenge myself & getting to write for Amber made it a special treat.

(set the alarms my dear) there's a million lives to live. | 2.1k | E

Henry encounters the Quinn app while Alex is on vacation with some law school friends. Both Henry and Alex make some discoveries about pleasure.

The Quinn fic & my first proper Explicit fic! This fic was inspired by my own discovery of Quinn, that app & community have helped me get my creative spark back and process a lot mentally, very similar to what being in this fandom does for me too.

Digital Love Letters | 8.9k (WIP) | T

Alex and Henry are long distance (most of the time) and are soppy, horny idiots in love. [Ft. Occasional super six group chats, cheeky emails between Zahra and Shaan and our favourite agents chatting shit about the little shits they look after etc]

The fic that launched me back into fanfic and into the RWRB fandom. This is when I posted the last update, it astounds me how much love this fic has gotten. It means the world 💛

December

I caught that holiday glee, my true love gave it to me | 0.8k | T

When Alex finds out the Shelter has a staff holiday baking competition with the prize being a stay at the new suite at the Beekman hotel, he immediately dives in.

One of my drabbles for RWRB Festive Fan Fest. I can't wait to do the event even bigger & better next year cause these were a lot of fun!

All the way home I'll be warm | 0.8k | G

Snow arrives at Balmoral and Beatrice reminds Philip how to have a bit of fun. AKA older Fox siblings fluff extravaganza ❄️

Another FFF fic, and it's made me want to write more Fox siblings in the future.

We all will be together, if the fates allow | 0.4k | G

A Christmas morning for a young Henry ✨

And this FFF fic cemented my need to write more Fox family vibes. Especially more Arthur and Catherine.

Santa's comin' to town (with secrets in his hands) | 1.7k (WIP) | T (Changing this with part 2)

Percy organises a Secret Santa party and June has a tiny emotional crisis over it.

My Junora college AU! I'm praying it'll be done before the year is up and put it this way, we're going out with a bang ✨

⭐ If you've made it all the way through, firstly well done & here's a gatorade, secondly thank you for your support this year. I've not focused on my original writing as much this year but despite that I feel like my writing muscle is in great shape & thanks to fanfic I'm feeling up to getting the book into shape. As a thank you, I'm going to leave you with the WIP list, and we're dipping into other fandoms babyyyy! ⭐

WIP List

A Siren Song (Accompaniment: Heartstrings) | RWRB | Sequel to a frightening magic I cling to

alex_u_want_him_2_dick_u_down.pdf | RWRB | Inspired by NFWMB by @cricketnationrise

Spooky Ballet AU | RWRB

Bigender Alex AU: Part 4 | RWRB

Henry's White Gay Guy Privilege | RWRB

Her Royal Highness | RWRB

Last Year's Songs Still Holding Up | Young Royals | 10 years in the future, Simon meets the kid who had his photo taken with him

the lean and hungry type | RWRB | Alex discovers dentists know when you've given a blow job & is a lil shit to Henry

The Prince & He | RWRB | The Prince & Me AU that I've teased for too long

Trans Alex PWP | RWRB | Coming veryyyyy soon

Tristan's Bisexual Awakening | Doctor Odyssey | the way this show is rotting my brain, definitely won't be the last fic I write about Doc O

Troye Sivan Collab | RWRB | not writing with the Australian pop prince unfortunately but this is another collab I'm very excited to eventually get to.

Big Feelings & Big Sister | RWRB | The boys' wedding day from June & Bea's POV

Quinn Fic Sequel | RWRB | the interest in this was insane so of course I gotta give the people what they want

Tag You're It: @taste-thewaste @thighzp @emmalostinwonderland @royal-chandler @suseagull5914 @judasofsuburbia @seths-rogens & Open tag 💛

[blixabargelds]

I want you to know even if you never post fic again superstar john and gale mean so much to me. the fact that there are so many folks involved in mota writing about addiction in real and tangible and kind ways is so so so so important and special to me kissessssss

(Also take this as an opportunity to say whatever you want about gale my beloved and his recovery pls)

🥺🥺 this means soo much wow thank u. it’s so important to me and i think writing about addiction in a way that’s both real and good fiction is always going to be tricky because no two addicts are the same, and some parts will make some people uncomfortable, everyone has a different perspective, so i am aware that it’s not simple to write about and i’m sooo happy that people have been so receptive to our perspective on it.

hehehe galeeeee !!! his recovery is soo bumpy for a while he’s really really deep in it and sick when he goes to rehab and codependent and resistant to help so without too many spoilers it’s like. it is not linear kfhfkdj. i’ll be real and personal for a sec, gale’s recovery reflects my own a lot. there’s a lot of both me and elo through the whole story but for me gale’s recovery is maybe the most projection ?? i guess?? i kind of feel like that word has negative connotations. it’s cathartic i guess. a vehicle to be real about some of my own experiences. he knows he’s got a problem but he doesn’t think it’s bad enough that he needs to stop forever (it is/ he does) (edit for further context if curt n rosie didn’t drop him off at rehab n he continued to use like he is at that point he would not be around longer than a week most likely hffhfjd). he’s got other serious issues he’s been burying with downers that come to the surface when he gets clean and he yo-yos for a bit between replacing opioids with indulging in them and wishing he could just numb them with drugs again. he gets bitchy and very emotional and scared he slips up and he goes to meetings for probably the rest of his life. he gets there tho. reallyyy slowly but he does ❤️❤️❤️

[gatoraid]

Random, but can I ask why do you love Yut Lung? What made him special? Is there a certain moment in Banana Fish where you know, this will be my favorite character?

P.s I can't believe the mangaka end Yut Lung just like that in the later manga. Are you surprised, too?

This is the perfect ask, YES you can ask me why I love my fave character. <3 This has been sitting in my drafts for a while but since the jp fandom is currently drawing a lot of Yut Lung fanart for the Mid-Autumn Festival, I feel like it's a good time to try answer this.

Yut Lung as a character is just endlessly fascinating to me. He’s the bitchy antagonist, the foil and twisted mirror image of Ash and to a lesser extent Eiji too. He has such delicious relationships with so many of the characters in the story, he's THE fandom bicycle to me.

I love how Yut Lung is full of contradictions. He’s an evil mastermind and seductress pulling at the strings, but he’s also a traumatized 16-year-old kid who misses his mother. He uses his femininity and beauty as a weapon and never fails to bring a fashion moment when going out, yet at home he only ever wears ugly grandpa sweaters.

One of the reasons why I enjoy reading about him so much is that he’s not really a good person. He’s petty and jealous. He’s been having a bad time his whole life and he wants to make it your problem too. Yet at the same time, you see how torn he feels about Shorter's death, how he just wants acceptance and for someone to take care of him. Idk, something about him showing his ugly sides and still being someone who clearly would deserve love and healing just feels so cathartic to me.

And let's not even get started on the gender stuff. I tend to latch on to characters with atypical gender expressions, and Yut Lung is explicitly referred to and viewed as feminine by other characters in the story. Is he someone who's learned to use his perceived femininity to his advantage (the ppl who have compared him to the main character of M Butterfly are so smart), or is this how he actually wants to present? Maybe both? In any case, this aspect of his character has also made him very dear to me.

Also, I actually do know the exact moment I realized Yut Lung would become my fave:

Soo yeah, despite being a fan of the manga for years, it was the anime adaptation that made his character really pop for me. Maybe it was just the right timing for me to vibe with his particular story, or maybe the fact that the anime staff clearly loved him made him stand out even more? His updated character design is just so good! Obviously I love his manga and anime versions equally now, the anime was just the catalyst.

You also asked about Yut Lung's story arc in Yasha. I'm putting the rest after a cut bc of spoilers.

I haven't read Yasha myself, but I've read enough fic and other reports to know the basics of how Yut Lung's life ends in that story. I'm very sad since I just wanted him to keep on living, taking reponsibility for the shitty things he has done. But idk if I can say I'm surprised. Unlike the anime staff, I think it's pretty clear that Akimi Yoshida did not love Yut Lung at all. I feel like she disliked him quite a bit actually, so writing an ending like that for him makes sense in a way sobbbb.

[5eraphim]

Oof sorry for another one but can you do something where engi and you have your first date together at his house, but you have a tiny bit of an odd feeling about him. He's very sweet, but almost overly nice. He offers to make dinner for you and you say yes, but what you don't know is that he put aphrodisiacs in your food.

These prompts were so fire! So freaking fun to write for, thank you for these!!! I feel like ever since I've been writing short stories I've wanted to write a "you don't love me, you love how being loved make you feel" confrontation between reader and their yandere- very cathartic to finally get that scene out of my head and into a finished work!

Title: Birthday Cake

Rating: X (MINORS DNI, YOU KNOW THIS ISNT FOR YOU)

Content Warnings: MAJOR daddy kink, dub-con, spanking, aphrodisiacs, yandere, toxic relationship, forced intimacy, fingering, possessiveness

Word Count: 7k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

"In my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you're whispering 'where have you been?' I say, 'I've been lost but I'm here now. You're the only person who has wver been able to find me.'" unknown title, Sue Zhao

You should've known better than to give in to the kindness of strangers. Well, perhaps not strangers, but the excessive displays of affection from your teammate Engie had long since worn out their novelty. You'd only been a member of the team for a few months yet, ever since then, Engie'd taken a certain special liking to you, something which bothered you right away. It wasn't your style to accept being fussed over by anyone, but no matter how you tried to politely push him away, he never seemed to take the hint. 

What really surprised you was his latest act of kindness, inviting you to his place to share a meal together. A birthday dinner, his treat. You knew you never told him your birthday or anyone else for that matter, and you couldn't even guess how he found out or how long he'd known, and honestly, you weren't sure you wanted to know. You initially tried to politely decline, planning to make up some lie about plans to call family after work to celebrate. But he was stubborn, absolutely refusing to take no for an answer.

Something about his forwardness bothered you, but still, there were worse ways to spend a birthday, and you agreed to meet up at his place later that night. Giving you a comfortable amount of time to get cleaned up and changed out of your work clothes before you found yourself at the address he provided you earlier. Knocking at the door, you tried to ignore your rising anxieties and let yourself believe Engie was your friend and you had no reason to be so skittish. Perhaps a little too friendly sometimes, but not someone who would ever hurt you.

Engie held the door open for you as you entered, leading you through the kitchen; the smell of well-seasoned food cooking on the stovetop and roasting in the oven overtook you before you entered. While you'd never actually stepped foot in Engie's home, it looked exactly how you'd imagined. A cozy rustic kitchen with a wood stove, gingham-printed curtains and tablecloth, and a grand wooden table in the center, modestly set for two. You could hear the lazy strumming of some folk song on the small radio on the dark wood of the kitchen counter over the crackling of the low fire burning in the furnace on the other side of the room. Engie lived alone, but you knew he regularly invited family over; the dinner table alone could easily sit 10, but something about the sight of the massive table set for only two made it look so lonely, and you couldn't help but imagine how empty it must look set for only one as Engie was no doubt used to.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Engie's eyes following you as you made your way inside, and you wondered when was the last time he'd had non-blood-related company over. While you were still a bit uncomfortable with his forwardness, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and believe he was just nervous, and you had no reason to feel uncomfortable around him. He was your friend, an ally, surely not one who would mean you any harm. 

You sat at one of the seats set for dinner, watching as he prepared two plates. Before he even opened the oven, the smell of Texan comfort food hung heavy in the kitchen and dining room. He kept the dishes he'd made in the oven to keep warm until you showed up, and judging by the considerable pile of dirty bowls and utensils piled by the sink, you reckoned he must've spent hours cooking. Watching from the table, you heard Engie humming as he pulled out a few deep dish bowls, unlidding them before loading up the two plates. He piled on roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, and thick cuts of meat you couldn't quite identify coated in a rich dark sauce, which were just the first things you noticed him dishing. 

He said to you from over his shoulder, "There's biscuits on the table for you if you need something to nibble while you're waiting." Like you were even that hungry. But if the biscuits were half as appetizing as what he was dishing out, you were certainly tempted. You pulled one from the cloth-covered basket in the center of the table and bit into the still-warm biscuit, watching him approaching with two full plates in hand.

"I made sweet tea fresh this morning; care for a glass?" Before you could say yes, he was already turning back around to fetch the pitcher from the fridge.

"You really pulled out all the stops tonight, huh?" You were joking, though simultaneously were genuinely overwhelmed by his generosity. He just chuckled, and you thought you heard him muttering something under his breath along the lines of, "Anything for you."

For a few minutes, you chatted politely, listening to the radio, enjoying the home-cooked meal, and feeling the stress of the day melting away as you genuinely enjoyed the taste of his cooking. 

"You made this all yourself?"

"Sure did! But it's all mamma's old recipes. You oughtta be thankin' her... How'd I do?" He smiled and tried to look modest, but the look in his eyes said, "I know it's perfect." 

"It's amazing; she must've taught you well." You saw a light blush coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he looked down with a big smile. You hadn't expected he would get so flustered over such a simple statement. Though now that you thought about it, Engie was a bit friendlier this evening than normal, which for him was saying something. Perhaps it was for the best you tried to leave now before he got too carried away. Pulling away from the table slightly, you pushed your plate forward.

"Well, this has been wonderful, but I've had enough. Thank you so much for all this; you're so sweet." To your surprise, Engie's smile faltered for just a moment.

"You didn't finish…" He didn't look mad, but his face didn't entirely mask his disappointment. 

"It's been a long day, Engie, but I'm about ready to crawl into bed… You aren't upset, are you?"

He perked right up after you said, "Aw shucks, of course not! I understand! I'm not upset. I just hoped I'd get the chance to give you one last thing." 

Engie stood from his chair before you could ask what he meant by this, pulling something from the fridge, hiding it close to his chest, and out of sight from you. While you didn't know exactly what he was hiding, you consoled yourself by acknowledging, at least, whatever it was; it must've been quite small. He fidgeted with the thing for a moment before shutting the door to the fridge.

Engie smiled sheepishly, turning around, holding on to a little teacup saucer holding a miniature cupcake so small it could fit in the palm of your hand. A single little yellow birthday candle flickering on top.

"Engie, I can't accept this-'' You forced a nervous laugh while you felt guilty for letting him spoil you with dinner earlier; the cupcake made you feel even worse. 

"Sure I did; it's your birthday, ain't it?" He drew closer, depositing the little treat before you as the candle continued to burn, little trails of wax dripping down the sides. You were conflicted, feeling a combination of obligation to accept the gift he'd been saving for last and not wanting to take anything more from Engie after he'd done so much already. While you admittedly didn't eat too much of the dinner he prepared, just enough to show gratitude for his efforts and to keep him from noticing how you kept cutting up the food into tiny pieces, pushing them around on your plate. While you felt bad about wasting the food, you knew you'd be sick if you tried to force yourself to eat it all. 

There was no way you could get away with doing that with this. But you had to admit, it was pretty cute, and you didn't have the heart to turn him down now that that cupcake was right under your nose. Closing your eyes briefly, you inhaled before blowing out the candle, wishing silently to yourself out of this charmingly claustrophobic kitchen as fast as possible. Pulling the candle from the top of the cupcake, you held it in your hand for a moment before taking a bite.

You could've sworn you felt an oddness in the cake's texture for a split second when you swallowed. The cake was denser than you expected but tasted just as appetizing as it looked; you finished the tiny cake in a few bites. 

Engie smiled warmly, reaching over and squeezing your shoulder, "Happy birthday, buddy'." 

You were about to say something when you felt a bizarre warm feeling in the pit of your stomach, not unpleasant, just a little tingly. You took a deep breath, repositioning yourself in your seat, feeling a bit hot under the collar out of nowhere. Clearing your throat, you thought maybe the cupcake went down wrong, and there was a perfectly valid reason you felt so heated out of nowhere, but internally you felt a twinge of panic. 

If this were a sudden sickness, it was like nothing you'd felt before. You tried your hardest to keep composure, telling yourself this was all in your head, there's no way you were genuinely so suddenly weak out of nowhere, but your body wouldn't listen. Once again, you found yourself fidgeting in your seat, unable to find a comfortable position. So distracted by the warmth spreading from deep in your gut through the rest of your body you almost didn't notice how heavy your head felt or the dryness in your mouth. Placing both elbows on the table, you clasped your hands together, resting your head on top of your fingers to keep yourself from losing balance. 

Fortunately, Engie didn't seem to mind, or maybe didn't even notice, how quiet you were as he cleaned up the kitchen, humming softly to himself along with the radio. You heard his footsteps close behind. 

"I'll get this out of your way."

You cleared your throat again, nodding a silent "thank you" as he took the saucer away. While you knew there was something a little off about the taste of the cake, you couldn't put your finger on what.

Forcing yourself to take another steady breath, you scooted back in your chair a little bit to press your back harder against the back of the chair, rolling out your neck slightly as you started panting. Much to your dismay, however, this did nothing to extinguish the odd warm sensation in your gut, which felt like it was spreading so quickly to spite you. Thankfully, due to the room's low light, there was no way Engie could see the way your face had begun to heat up. You didn't know if you were blushing because of the new found warm feeling between your legs, the strain of trying to appear emotionless and unbothered, or the embarrassment of being caught in such a situation in the first place, or likely an unbearable combination of the three. 

You couldn't stop fidgeting, unclasping your hands to grip the chair's armrests as you backed up a little harder into your seat. Under the table, your legs, already crossed, began to squeeze a little tighter together, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a sound of frustration as you felt the skin of your breasts and nipples tingle a little, becoming more sensitive on account of whatever the hell it was going on inside your body."No, no, not the body- just in your head. It's all in your head; just take a few deep breaths, hug him goodbye, and you'll be out in no time. you've got this." You could feel your hands white-knuckling your chair's armrests as your head dipped forwards, eyes shutting as you tried to maintain composure. 

By now, your breathing had become rapid, and while you knew it was best to keep your head back to let in as much oxygen as you could, you no longer had that kind of inner strength. The best you could do now was pant as quietly as possible as that awful warmth intensified deep inside. You were scared, wondering what the hell had gotten into you, but to a lesser extent didn't care and wanted nothing but to grind your legs together even harder or slip a hand between your legs. To do something- anything, to satisfy the awful neediness between your legs. There was no denying it now; you were wet for sure.

This was agony. Your jeans felt a size too tight, the cotton denim like sandpaper against your legs, chafing your poor sensitive skin, to say nothing of the inseam of your jeans you were painfully aware of against your clit. Swallowing hard, had no idea you'd been salivating so notably. While the intensity of your arousal began to plateau, focusing on anything else like this was impossible. 

Before now, you tried to keep your eyes open, spotting against random objects you could see in the room to try and keep yourself grounded, but by now, your eyes were fluttering and shut against your will, and the room seemed to spin when you tried to focus on anything. The feeling of Engie's hand suddenly touching your shoulder, his fingers barely making contact, caused you to jolt fully upright in alarm. 

You had no idea how he got back to you so fast, nor how long he'd been standing over you like that, but you were rendered functionally speechless in surprise, looking up with him wide-eyed, your neck still bent forward slightly, unable to support the full weight of your head, forcing you to turn your face to make eye contact, feeling pathetic as he looked down at you from this position.

"Hey, did ya hear me? Are you feeling alright? You're looking a little, uh… warm." It was hard not to cringe hearing him speak like that. Engie could sense you were extremely uncomfortable, but you silently prayed he just thought you were feeling ill. Trying desperately to convince yourself he couldn't detect your sudden unexplainable arousal. He knew something was happening with you, and it was humiliating to hear him trying to be so polite about it. 

You managed to lean away from his touch; you tried to force yourself to straighten back up in your chair and were about to answer when a spontaneous throb of arousal caused you to tense up and shrink into yourself. Engie had to grab both your shoulders to keep you steady and prevent your head from crashing forward into the table. Despite this, you tried to wriggle away again but couldn't manage to shake his hold on you. 

You can hear him saying your name, his voice heavy with worry, only making you feel sicker. But your head felt too fuzzy to speak, no matter how hard you try to respond. Your mouth won't work, and you were forced to stay held in place until you manage to center yourself well enough to answer. Taking a shaky breath, you speak in a rasp,

"I'll be fine; I just need rest." You hardly sounded like yourself, so trembling and hoarse.

"Honey, c'mon now, you can tell me what's wrong." He tried to squeeze your shoulders a little to relax you, but you only whined slightly at the feeling of his strong fingers, feeling so supportive and stable against your limp, overheated body. You knew if his hands were enough to make your head spin like this, you needed to get out as fast as possible.

"Engie- I'm going home now." Even though your words were slurred, you managed to speak clearly enough to express that much, still fidgeting in your seat to try and break free from his hold on your shoulders. Your eyelids felt so heavy, your face so warm, all you wanted to do was change into your pajamas and get a little sleep. Wanting more than anything to get back in your own bed and get rid of the awful burning inside your body. But thinking like that was dangerous, and you didn't dare let your mind wander while you were already feeling so turned on.

"You can rest upstairs in my room, c'mon lemme help you up."

"No!" Your eyes shot open as you tried to lurch out of his grip like a cornered wild animal; you were already scared, and thinking about what would happen if he brought you up to his room only made things worse. 

"Don't take me up there! Wanna go home- please, please, not upstairs- I don't want to!" It was humiliating to hear yourself begging like a child being sent to bed early, but you couldn't stop. You tried to use your grip on the armrests to pull yourself away from Engie, but he was too strong, and all you would do was tire yourself out fighting like this. You couldn't tell if you were actually crying or if you just felt like you were. Trying to fight against the wicked desire quickly sapped all your inner strength; it hurt to try and keep up like this; you just wanted it all to be over.

"Hey, easy now, I've gotcha. I'm not gonna hurt ya-" Engie spoke to you like he was trying to calm a spooked mare. He let go of one of your shoulders to turn the chair you were sitting in away from the table so you were facing him before returning the hand to your shoulder. You were too embarrassed to look him in the eye, keeping your line of sight straight ahead on the wall behind him. Feel sick listening to him patronizing you like you were his little pet, not another grown adult, much less his own comrade.

"Then let go!" You meant to sound immature, but the meat you could manage was another childish pout. 

"I ain't lettin' go. You're not looking too good there, honey; if I let ya go, you're gonna hurt yourself. I ain't about to let that happen." Despite having to physically wrangle you like this, Engie sounded as calm as ever. You whined as your muscles went limp, as you finally gave in and let him hold you upright.

"Engie, I don't wanna- Please, just take me home…." Surely he could feel how you continued to tremble under his hold, maybe even picking up on how your skin was practically hot to the touch, but you didn't care. 

"Listen, I know you don't feel well, and you're lookin' even worse. My room is right upstairs; I want you to sleep in my bed until you're feeling better." Despite his syrupy-sweet voice, you still felt too disturbed to let your guard down.

"Don't make me go to your bed…" To your surprise, you could hear Engie laughing gently about this before feeling him help you up. You wrapped your arms around his forearms to help brace your weight a little while you struggled to find your footing before wrapping one of your arms around his neck, leaning entirely against him to support yourself. Your face was now painfully close to his, all while he merely regarded you with his easygoing smile.

"Aw honey, I wasn't gonna make us share the bed!" He winked before continuing, "Temptin' offer though it may be." Feeling your body pressed close against him like this was doing nothing to help your situation, you grit your teeth, forcing your face to turn from his to the stairs across the room. Without another word, he helped you make your way to the stairs.

A part of you wondered if he was going so slowly up the stairs to prolong your misery as long as he could; at least, that's what it felt like to you. You used one arm to grab his arm around your shoulders while the other white-knuckled the handrail; not once did his arms budge from either around your waist or from your shoulders, the side of his body crushingly tight up against yours. While the feeling of helplessness and discombobulation was wretched, you hated yourself for clinging so tightly against Engie, letting him lead you upstairs to his bedroom, despite your trepidation. 

When the two of you finally made it to the top of the staircase, you were about to step foot on the second floor when you felt Engie mumble something into your ear as you bit down on your lower lip to keep from moaning at the feeling of his lips grazing against your ear, breath fanning over the side of your face, and tickling your neck without warning. 

"Almost there now, honey. You're doing so good, just a little longer." You nodded, feeling as though your knees were about to give out at any second. 

By the time you reached the doorway of Engie's bedroom, you didn't wait for him to get the door first. You turned the knob yourself and pushed open the door, too blinded by the idea of finally getting to lay down to worry about waiting to be invited in first. Engie helped push the door open wider as the two of you staggered inside. You refused to stop moving until you were in bed, and with almost drunken, unsteady steps, you finally found your respite, crashing into the soft flannel sheets the moment your shin connected with the edge of the bed. 

Finally lying down, you lay, sprawled out on your back for a moment, giving yourself time to catch your breath. At last, you were lying down and in bed; nothing in the world mattered right now except for the cozy cotton sheets that provided you with a little nook to curl up inside of.

For just a moment, you felt better, the burning wasn't gone, but at least now it was a bit less uncomfortable. 

"Usually, I'd make the bed before the company shows up, but you look pretty cozy down there. Are you feeling any better, darlin'?" You didn't answer; rolling onto your side, away from the side of the bed where he stood, you buried your head in the pillows, twisting the sheets and blankets in your hands, pulling them closer. Not exactly to cover yourself with, but just to have something soft and comfortable to grip onto, something much better than the hardwood of your chair's armrest. But it was more than that. Something about being in his bed like this felt so perfect like you were exactly where you needed to be in the universe. You were hyper-aware of Engie's scent trapped in the bedding, shamelessly nestling your face directly into it, wanting to feel it all over you. No matter how embarrassing it was to be watched in a state like this for a moment, you allowed yourself to indulge. Writhing into the blankets, using them to wick the sweat from your forehead and neck, nestling your head into the nook where the pillows met the bed. 

You thought you could hear him chuckling from above, but you weren't sure, but the idea of him getting so much enjoyment watching you nestling into his bed made you self-conscious, making you whine in irritation, the sound almost entirely drowned out by the pillow. Still, the shame wasn't enough to keep you from wrapping both legs around the top blanket of the bed, spooning the fabric, feeling blissful but frustratingly unsatisfying on account of your jeans keeping the blankets from rubbing up against your bare skin. Despite the bed's softness, you somehow couldn't manage to get comfortable and couldn't stop from kicking and thrashing like a fish out of water. The smell of Engie flooding your senses was the only thing going through your mind, but it still didn't feel like enough. You could feel the bed dipping as Engie sat on the side of the bed, his hand against your shoulder, making you shiver and your nails dig into the blankets.

"Can't get comfy down there? You need me to grab you something to drink?" With a snicker, he continued, "Need daddy to read you a bedtime story?"

You frowned, looking up at him over your shoulder, "Don't talk to me like that."

"Aw c'mon, you know I'm only-" He tried to laugh it off, but for some reason, you found yourself more agitated than usual at his ribbing. 

"You know what I mean!"

"Pardon?" He lifted his hand from your shoulder as you rolled from your belly to your side to look at him. Something about the awful heat coursing through you made you more brazen than usual, and you could not stop yourself from acting confrontational.

"I hate when you act like that- When you look at me like you know better than me! You're not responsible for me. I don't need you to take care of me!" His brow creased as he looked at you, hurt, confused, and completely taken aback by your sudden attitude. Your breathing was ragged, and it was hard to keep your voice from rising. You didn't know where this anger was coming from, but it felt as though you were finally telling him how much you hated when he babied you. The suddenness and intensity confused you, but the catharsis was there all the same. Telling him how you really felt. For so long, you'd been forced to be professional and mild-mannered around your comrade while he would condescend and coddle you; to finally bear your emotions like this felt damn good.

Engie tried his best to force a small smile to mask the hurt you could still see in his eyes, "I don't do this because you're weak; I never said you were weak-"

You laughed bitterly, "Right, it's because you're just such a nice guy; how could I forget?"

Engie spoke slowly, "I only do this because I care about you; I only want what's best. You know that."

"You don't love me. You love how being needed makes you feel!" By now, you were certain you were crying and weren't even really talking to Engie; now, you were talking to him. In your heart, you weren't really mad at him, but you hated how weak you felt when he prioritized you over the rest of the team. You slackened a little, pulling the blanket up to bury your head in it, sobbing. After a moment, you felt his hand putting the top of your head.

"Of course I love you-" 

"No, you don't! You just want to protect the weak, isn't that right? That must be why you're always focused on me, right? I'm nothing but the weakest of the team to you! I'm nothing but a charity case; all you care about is making yourself feel better." You were helpless to stop all the awful insecurities you tried so hard to hide from the rest of the world from surfacing now. Engie huffed a little, moving his hand from your hair to your chin, forcing you to turn and look at him.

"So I'm the selfish one, is that it? I spend all this time with you, cook for you, let you sleep in my own bed, and that makes me the selfish one?" You had to bite back a moan at the feeling of his fingers gripping your face so tightly.

"You slipped me something, didn't you?" It was a surprise to hear your voice so level after screaming and crying. Engie looked more surprised than offended by your words but didn't say anything to his defense.

"I bet you did this, didn't you! Fucking hell, you'd do anything to be the hero- to just come to everyone's rescue. You don't care about me; I bet you don't even like any of the rest of us!"

His eyes narrowed. "Don't say that."

"That's the only reason I'm here, isn't it? You wanted to get me all alone, slip me God knows what so you could take me here and wait till it knocked out to start touching yourself over my unconscious body. You've been planning this, haven't you!" Despite your harsh words, Engie didn't look offended. Nothing worked, no matter how you tried to anger or convince him to kick you out. He merely sighed, face softening as his fingers gently caressed the side of your face.

"Let it out, sweetheart; you've had a long day. Just get it out of your system; you'll be alright." You didn't say anything in return, and for a moment, you wondered, "Would it really be so bad to let him have his way?" Your eyes drift shut as you feel Engie's fingers brush away your tears, smoothing back your hair. No matter how you tried to deny it, letting, him treat you like his little girl felt good. Why had you fought him back for so long? Now that you weren't fighting back, his touch no longer felt smothering but soothing. And you felt in that moment that he was the only thing in the world that could satisfy your desire.

"I'm gonna get you a change of clothes, just lay back." The bed creaked a little as he lifted himself from the mattress.

You spoke in a broken, pitifully small voice, "I shouldn't have said that."

"I know you didn't mean it." He was in the same room but sounded so far away you wanted him back in bed.

"It was still wrong to say.." As he returned to his perch by your side, you twisted in bed, laying on your side.

He smiled, "I forgive you." You wanted to say you didn't deserve it, but at the moment, you couldn't find the words; all you could manage to do was stare at him with puppy eyes.

"Do you want me to help you out of your clothes?"

At first, you were about to question why he was acting so brazen, but then you realized at some point during your fight you'd started to wriggle in bed nervously, mindlessly pawing at your bottoms, trying to pull them off while your fingers were too numb and awkward to work the buttons or the zipper. Time felt like it slowed down for a moment; the two of your eyes locked as you understood the weight of his question. You nodded. 

"I need to hear you say it." Engie's soft voice is as assuring and gentle as ever, yet unmistakably firm. While you were putting up a fight for a while there, you both knew who was really in charge here. Forcing yourself to keep eye contact, you managed a "yes, I would." Engie's sweet smile betrayed his dirty mind. 

"Roll back over onto your stomach." You didn't understand why he wanted this, but you immediately complied. You bit down on a pillow to muffle the sounds you made when you felt Engie's fingers find your jean's button, undoing it and pulling the zipper all the way down just as easily, while you couldn't help but whine and twitch at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your bare underbelly, and the sensation of his fingers over your clothed pubic mound for just a second as he undid the zipper. You took a deep breath after the zipper was undone, feeling the most relief you'd felt all night. He gave you a moment to breathe deeply before his hands made their way to the waistband of your jeans and, with a few tugs, pulled them past your hips as you kicked your legs to try and help him remove the awful denim from your body. Your thighs spread wider, blessedly now unrestricted against Engie's blankets while he looked down at the beautiful sight. You couldn't help but sigh audibly into the pillow; at long last, you were free.

"Shirt too?" You mumbled, but Engie understood what you wanted, grabbing the bottom hem of your top as he pushed it up and over your head with your bra while you slid your arms through the sleeves. Leaving you stripped down to nothing but your underwear. The feeling of his sheets, his smell now directly below your skin, felt heavenly, your tits perking up a little, still tingling from earlier as you rubbed yourself over the bed, breathing heavily in through your nose and out through your mouth. While Engie was more than excited to finally get a chance to get his hands on you, he wasn't about to rush you here.

You were entirely right to call him out for planning this, and despite a few snags along the way, the evening was shaping up exactly how he hoped it would. And while he expected your hesitation and your near-certain anger when you realized he was responsible for your current situation, Engie had every confidence that in just a bit of time, you would be thanking him for all this. All he had to do was wait, and for you, he'd wait forever if he must.

He trailed his feeling hand down the curve of your ass as you felt the rubber glove brushing against the swell of your hip. His fingers playfully drummed along the flesh of your ass while you shivered and bit down a little harder on the pillow in your mouth.

"I forgive you, and I love you- but you outta know how to watch that mouth of yours." 

" 'M sorry, it won't happen again." You babbled, half talking to him, half speaking into the pillow. You weren't strong enough to look him in the eye, but you were just horny enough to tell him whatever he needed to hear.

"Oh, I'm sure it won't. But someone ought to teach you a lesson." You felt his ungloved fingers squeezing against the flesh of your ass, assuring you of exactly where his attention was. Knowing you had his full attention elicited another stir of excitement inside you.

"Mhm?" He spoke softly, but you could pick up on the dark edge of his words even in such an inebriated state.

"Maybe this is my fault. I've been spoiling you all this time, and I haven't even laid a hand on you." Using his gloved hand, he gave a little testing pat against your rear, not hard at all, but enough to make a sharp smacking sound fill the room. You sighed at the feeling; he was right; he was being too soft, and you needed more. Needed his attention now more than ever before.

You were about to say something, anything to urge him on, but he literally beat you to it, his glove slapping against your ass again, a little bit harder this time, forcing you to bite down onto his pillow to muffle your little shriek of surprise. The residual soreness didn't have time to set in fully before you felt another blow, followed by another and another and another. Not harder or softer, he set a steady rhythm for the two of you. You could feel the blood rushing to the sore area and couldn't imagine how red you must've looked.

It felt good to be used like this. To feel held accountable for taking advantage of "the nice guy" for so long. Now he wasn't going easy on you, and it was exactly what you needed. By accident, his hand struck a little closer to your cunt than he intended; maybe he didn't aim right, or perhaps you accidentally spread your legs too wide. You didn't know. In response to this feeling, you spread your legs even wider.

"Maybe I ought to bring you off the battlefield and back home with me. Set ya to work on the old Conagher farm. I know it'll do ya real good to get outta the city, give ya a 'lil perspective. You'd fit right in; I can see it now." He was mostly rambling to himself than actually speaking to you, but you followed along all the same. In any other situation, you'd never let him get away with implying he could so easily take you home and "tame you," but given how horny you already felt, you were ready to tell him everything he wanted to hear if it meant you would finally get some satisfaction.

"I'll go anywhere with you! Please, Engie, please keep going; I fucking need it! I-I need you so bad, Daddy!" You peeked your head over your shoulder and felt your heartthrob at the sight of his face softened with love and eyes twinkling like little stars. Good Lord, would you give anything to cum on that beautiful face of his. You weren't aware of the wet spot of drool he could see from where you were biting down on the pillow and the mess of spit around your lips. 

He used his thick fingers to brush against the soaked fabric covering your sex; the feeling of at last getting a bit of friction between your legs made your head roll forward, crushing your face into the pillow, mindlessly rocking your hips against his fingers.

"You're gonna be good for me from now on? No more attitude?" He was moving too slow, intentionally shying his fingers away whenever you tried to get closer, mocking your neediness. While you were reduced to a wet, mindless mess sobbing incoherently, "Yes, I will! I promise I'll be good; I promise I'll be good! Please, Daddy, please, Daddy- I need it so bad, please!"

His fingers paused, directly over exactly where you needed them, his glove gripping the curve of your hip, keeping you from grinding against him, forcing you to remain painfully in place, the strain of staying in this position its own hell on Earth. "You promise you'll behave?"

Without missing a beat, you kept, "I promise!" 

You can hear his proud smile without looking back at his face. "All right, darlin', if you promise." He sounded just like a proud father; no wonder he stepped into the role so well. 

He continued to grope at your ass with his gloved hand, pushing your underwear to the side as he finally slipped his fingers inside. By now, you were practically too weak to keep grinding against him, but fortunately, you wouldn't last much longer. You felt like you were on edge for hours, and feeling Engie's fingers working their magic inside your body was that last little push you needed to send you over the edge. His thumb worked in sync with his fingers, a thick coating of your slick messily seeping from inside, helping him to go even faster. 

You wished you didn't have to be on your stomach, Engie sitting off to the side, so far away. You wanted to wrap your arms around him, feel his naked flesh against your body, but inhaling his smell and grinding against his sheets would have to do for now. You spread your thighs wider as you felt yourself clenching against his fingers, your climax so close it hurt. Back arching as you mindlessly pushed yourself even harder against his fingers, the intensity building until you finally came. Seeing all white as relief washed over your entire body, the tension easing up as pleasant little after-shocks began to set in. The awful burning desire inside satisfied as you went limp, settling heavily into his bed with a heavy sigh. 

By now, the sheets were dampened by your sweat, though you were too tired to care much, feeling no real discomfort while laying in a little puddle of your own sweat. While Engie's handiwork had mercifully taken care of the burning inside, you could tell your head wasn't quite clear yet. The loopy, needy feeling now morphed into comfortable drowsiness, making your afterglow feel all the sweeter. You winced a little while Engie withdrew his fingers and the vague sensation of your wetness sloppily trailing his hand. You could hear him wiping the slick off onto the bedsheets before petting the top of your head gently.

"Feelin' better now?" Your tongue felt too heavy in your mouth to formulate any words, but you nodded, making a quiet sound of affirmation while your head remained buried in the pillows. 

"And what do we say when someone does something nice for us?" He sounded easygoing, but you knew he wanted a real answer out of you. Turning your head to rest a cheek on the pillow, you sleepily half-opened one eye to try and focus on him.

"Thank you, Daddy." It was a dull mumble of an answer, but it appeased him well enough. He ruffled your hair before you could hear the sound of Engie undressing, letting his button-up shirt and stiff work pants join your jeans on the floor. By the time he nestled up in bed with you, wrapping your limp body up with his strong arms, you were already more than half-asleep. Maybe the excessive fatigue was a side-effect of whatever slipped earlier. For a moment, you wondered if you would wake up with a hangover or not, but the thought left your head almost as quickly as it came. Even without the mystery drug in your system, it was certainly possible that your brain was better off trying to shut down and try not to think too hard about what just happened and even less about what the morning might bring.

Within your final moments of coherency, you could feel your body pulled against Engie's bare chest until you were close enough to rest your cheek against his flesh. He tucked your head under his chin as he muttered to himself.

"I wasn't lying' when I said I love you, honey. I love you more than anything else; I'd never lie about that." 

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Penny00Dreadful! @penny00dreadful has 29 fics in the Stranger Things fandom with 25 of them being in the Steddie Tag!

@hbyrde36 recommends the following works by @penny00dreadful:

Crossroads

Cat and Mouse

I'll Tell You My Sins and You Can Sharpen Your Knife

And They Were Roommates!

The Parting Glass

Sam, on top of being an absolutely amazing writer (AND artist!), is one of the brightest lights in this fandom (in my humble opinion). She is incredibly kind and encouraging, always ready to uplift other authors in the Steddie and ST fanfic worlds. I have had the incredible pleasure of being her beta reader for quite some time now, and am consistently blown away by her talent. There isn't a single one of her works that I wouldn't recommend, they are all fantastic reads. -- @hbyrde36

Below the cut, @penny00dreadful answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Opposites attract has always been a major draw for me, especially in my fandoms. Every pairing I’ve ever gotten into in every fandom I’ve been in have all been opposites attract and I’m not going to lie to you, I did not make that realization until this question. 😅 I had a very “Huh… that tracks” moment about it. 🤣 So the opposites attract factor is definitely big for me and while I suppose you could say that’s true for many, many pairings in fandom, there’s something about the complete opposite of both Steve and Eddie that is just enrapturing. From their aesthetic, to their personalities, to their upbringing, it creates such incredibly interesting parallels and options for building stories around them. On top of that, the two of them are so compelling as characters. Their various hang ups and traumas, their loves and hates, the time period and the genre of work they originated in all coalesce into something so captivating. I adore the two of them so much, they’re so fascinating. I think everyone can find a little bit of themselves in either one of them, but especially with the addition of Eddie into the series we got a character who was ‘other’, in the same way so many of us feel and are seen, he speaks to us on such a personal level. So, yeah. I love them.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Oh boy. There are so many. Enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff. But if I had to pick one that has been my longest standing love, it would have to be a slow burn. Like, when it hits, it hits. And it hits hard.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I looooove writing some tasty hurt/comfort. There’s just something so addictive about someone needing to be taken care of after something bad or traumatic happens or they’ve just had a really shitty day. It’s so cathartic. And also, I cannot like, I love getting comments screaming at me that I’ve made people hurt or cry or feel things because I know I’m going to make it better, I’m gonna give them that comfort. And it’s such an incredible compliment from people when they tell me that my writing has made them feel feelings. Like it is the highest praise possible that I could induce that in someone. It feels amazing.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Oh my god, that is such a difficult question to answer. I have read so many that have left a permanent mark on my heart or completely rewired my brain. I had to go look through my bookmarks to narrow it down because my god, there are so many talented people in this fandom and even then I was attempted to just give a list of all my top ones because, god they make me feel so many things, people are so fucking talented, I love them. But I would say if I had to choose one, there’s one that lives rent free in my brain. I think of it all the time, it is so god damn special to me and if I’m being honest with myself, it’s the first one that came to mind, It would have to be wouldn’t it be nice (if we could wake up) by kissesforcas  kissesforcas I have talked about this fic on my blog before but it just hits me in the right way every time I read it, it’s absolutely magical. I can’t recommend it enough, please go read it. It changed me completely.  There’s so many beautiful moments in it, the two boys are so protective of each other in it, but they also adore their found family and will defend them at any cost, the two of them feel real, their communication feels genuine and honest and realistic while also being true to their characters, I just adore it.

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

YES. FANTASY. It is wild to me that I have not done a fully fledged fantasy AU at all yet. Like I adore fantasy, what gives? Why have I not done it yet? Omg ALSO, historical. Like a lot of my special interests are historical based, WHY have I not done that yet?? AND, AND horror maybe? Like a psychological or zombie or paranormal/supernatural or slasher. So many things I haven’t explored that I want to do, and I can’t wait!

What is your writing process like?

Okay, so first things first, I get an idea.  Kind of obvious, I know, but yeah, the idea stage. Usually it’ll be something that hit out of nowhere, I’ll write down one line in the ideas doc and then pretend I won’t be thinking of it for the rest of the day. Then when I admit to myself I want to expand on it, I’ll take all of the brain worms attached to that idea and put them in their own doc. It’ll all be VERY disjointed at this stage, just a stream of consciousness of different situations/conversations/plot bunnies that popped into my head. Once I feel like I have enough of a concept through that, I begin to put them in order, maybe add a few more. Then I outline. I’m an outline kinda gal.  Over a page or two I’ll give a bare bones outline of what the fic will be, almost like it’s a short story? But still very rough.  Then I’ll start writing, usually in chronological order, I find that makes it easier to plant seeds and foreshadow and create consistency with the voice of the fic. Sometimes I will jump ahead if I’m really excited about a particular part of the fic, I’ll get it out before I lose steam on it. HOWEVER, I find that I almost ALWAYS diverge from the outline. If, as I’m writing, things start going in a different direction, I go with the flow, I don’t fight it. Fighting it, I feel is detrimental to my writing, trying to force myself into a box and hey, going with the flow has been working out pretty well for me so far. 🤣

Do you have any writing quirks?

Quirks? I dunno about that. I think I’m a pretty standard writer, but I do end up writing across three devices a lot of the time depending on where’s more comfortable. PC, tablet and phone. I’ll always stick to writing whatever my brain is focusing on at that time, but if I know I need to get a fic out and I’m not really feeling the inspo anymore, I’ll give myself an extra boost by watching movies with similar themes, listening to music related to it, or even just searching the trope on Pinterest can help me generate excitement about it again.Also do yourself a favor and get yourself a Bluetooth keyboard. It’s a game changer for writing on your phone.

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

I’ve done both and I much prefer posting on a set schedule. I always try to get the fic at least 50% finished before I start posting to give myself a nice cushion. Yeah, the immediate endorphin hit of posting once I’m done is great, but I much prefer the option to have a fic mostly or completely done before I post, so I can go back in and tweak things to make a theme hit harder or stick in a tad more foreshadowing or even just to edit.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I love all of my works, honestly. I write for me. I write the things I want to read. I think it would be difficult to narrow down a fic that I am the most proud of. Like I’m actually having a really difficult time picking one and saying “This one. This is the one I am most proud of.” Because I am proud of all of them and it’s for each of their own reasons. Like, some are very, very personal to me, some are stories that made me feel completely unhinged and obsessed(affectionately) and some are stories that touched people in very real ways, or made them feel safe and seen and that is so incredibly special to me. It’s a bit of a cop out to say that I can’t pick one, I can’t choose between my children, but I really can’t, they’re all so special, at least to me, in their own ways.

How did you get the idea for Crossroads?

So I have never seen the movie The Old Guard, but I have heard of it and while I know that reincarnation is not an aspect of that movie, I was struck with the idea of someone going through life over, and over, and over again, just to be close to the one they love the most. Like that kind of time bending devotion. And I had a brain worm of various historical ways of dying and I couldn’t figure out a way to write all of them into one fic before the idea of reincarnation hit. The very first image I had in my head of Eddie dying was being burned at the stake, so I had to work my way up to that time period and beyond. I knew I didn’t want it to be something that had only happened a few times over a couple of hundred years.  I knew I wanted it to be an ancient, centuries spanning kind of devoted love which is what led me to Ancient Greece, and in leading me there, I had to figure out why this was happening. Why Steve was traversing time just to be next to his boy again. Hecate appeared out of the mist and invaded my brain and it all kind of spilled out onto the page after that. 

When writing Cat and Mouse, what was something you didn’t expect?

I gotta be honest, the whole fic was unexpected. 😅 It was one of those stories when I originally thought of it, it was only gonna be a short little thing, maybe one or two chapters. By the end of it we were at 16 chapters and over 70K. Apparently I have no idea how to write anything short. But I think what also took me by surprise was how feral the two of them were for each other even though they didn't actually get together until later. I knew I wanted to have them being snappy and flirtatious for the whole thing and it evolved into the two of them being so dedicated to each other after only meeting a few times. I also didn’t expect the wild reaction I got to the fic, people loved it and were chomping for more and I was floored by it, it made me so incandescently happy!

What inspired Cat and Mouse?

So, the short answer is I saw this post from steddielations and it burrowed so deep into my brain, I had to get it out! Long answer is it was a mix of that post, and then a bit of Mr & Mrs. Smith mixed in along with John Wick. I just loved the idea of two deadly people being so soft for each other they’d be willing to burn the world for each other, do anything at any cost to keep the other safe.

What was your favorite part to write from And They Were Roommates!?

Oh my god, the banter. The banter was loaded with bitching and queerspeak and jabs, it was so much fun. I hadn’t really seen a story where the steddie boys had been bitchy queers before, like leaning into it and I just had to, I had to. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up and I could have gone on for ages just the two of them biting back and forth.

How do/did you feel writing I'll Tell You My Sins and You Can Sharpen Your Knife?

Conflicted, honestly. I was worried the POV I was writing from would be a little too out there, you know? There were a few times throughout writing where I thought I’d have to go back and change it out to be more of a standard fic but at the end of the day it felt so right to have the story told the way it was and it also felt very in line with Take Me To Church as well. It’s also the most poetic piece of writing I have done to date and while it’s not something I can see myself revisiting too often, it was a fantastic exercise in moving out of my comfort zone. It got me, right in the heart.

What was the most difficult part of writing The Parting Glass?

Oh boy. The whole fic was an exercise in catharsis. It was a way of processing my own grief after losing a family member and getting it all out into words was very, very helpful. I think the hardest part was just putting down into words how Eddie was feeling right in the aftermath, you know? Like grief is such a personal thing, everyone experiences it differently, so I wanted to try to figure out how Eddie would respond to it, especially considering it was the death of someone so important to him. So to have him looking around the trailer and it being empty but still with bits of Wayne dotted around like he was about to walk back through the door was probably the realest and most difficult part for me.

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

Oh god there’s so many! I could pick so many! But the first thing that came to mind is the small interaction between Eddie and Robin in Return of The King, when Steve is demonstrating his newly acquired vampire strength for the kids and Eddie has to hold onto Robin to keep himself from melting into a puddle: “Down boy.” She muttered. “Me next.” He practically whimpered right back. “Oh god, Robbie, I wanna be that stump. Tell him to do me next.” “You’re pathetic.” “What about it?” [...] Robin leaned in close to his ear but continued to stare at Steve. “If you two don’t calm the fuck down I’m going to get the hose.” Wet Steve. “Please get the hose.” I love Robin and Eddie together whenever I can get them snarking at each other, it’s just so entertaining. 

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

Oh yeah! A good few things. I’m coming back from my writing break and I’m going to be working on the final two fics for my anniversary event, Through The Valley and Devotion.  I also have a Summer Exchange Fic in the works along with starting on my Steddie Big Bang piece that I am also signed up for as an artist, I’m so excited to start them!

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

I think I would just like to add that this blog, this concept is such a wonderful idea, you’re doing great work here to bring people and fics to new eyes and it has been an honor and a privilege to be put forward the way I have, I’m so so so thankful. 🖤

Thank you to our author, @penny00dreadful, and our nominator, @hbyrde36! See more of Penny00Dreadful's works featured on our page throughout the day!

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

[freehideoutpuppy]

I'm once again on my I hate Bakugo train stay tuned for more rants. Or don't I do this for myself? The fact that people seem to enjoy it is just a bonus, lol.

Anyway, something that both canon and the Fandom have in common is that a ton of people seem to blame both Bakugo AND Midoriya for Bakugo's bullshit!? Like wtf!? I mean yes Midoriya can absolutely be unhinged in a fight especially if lives are on the line, but for fucks sake! Bakugo starts every single issue the two of them have, and Midoriya, for the most part, tries to freaking passify the asshole. How do so many people ignore that!? Are they stupid? Blind maybe!? And don't get me started on Aizawa. Is he a bad ass in a fight? Yes. Is he a good teacher, though!? Fuck no! Dude sees this explosive asshat try to kill his classmate on the first day and just tells him to grow up!? Uh, hello!? You expelled an entire class the year before why the fuck would you let a kid who tried to attack another kid in front of you off the hook!? What's the fucking point there!? That's villain behavior not heroic in the least. I don't care how much potential Bakugo has power wise trying to maim if not kill another student is expulsion worthy at the very least. And how the hell does no one see that Bakugo's a freaking bully!? He's constantly name calling and treating everyone around him like they're lesser, and yet everyone acts like he's God's gift to man kind. It's disgusting. Also, as I'm writing a fix it right now, I need some opinions. I'm planning on fixing Aizawa's behavior along with several other issues. I've had problems with Bakugo's special treatment being another one. It will be a TodoIzu fic because I adore them and want those boys happy. But my question that I need some opinions on is this. I have two different ideas for dealing with Bakugo as far as him getting expelled, mostly for drama but partially for catharsis on my end. One would involve the OC I'm adding as a fix it device manipulating the third round of the sports festival so Bakugo goes against Shinso and gets humiliated and goes on a violent rampage on live TV gets expelled and arrested for his stunt (I'm leaning towards this one because it's cathartic and I feel like it fits his character). Or having him get expelled after the battle trials as he should've been for using his gauntlet on Midoriya. But I'm not sure which people would enjoy more, so that's the dilemma. Opinions are welcome, as are suggestions if anyone has other ideas.

[cupofconfetti]

Excerpt from Persian Grove || January 24th, 2025

Though he may of meant it facetiously, my life does seem to be running through a cycle of “how long has it been since I talked to [libra sun].” It hasn’t been long in the slightest — when taking into account the grand scheme of things — but at the same time, it feels like an eternity since I’ve been able to confide in the solace of his love. He said to me, “I really do pray for your happiness, I’m an atheist but SOMEBODY is listening.” I myself could be best described as an atheist, possibly agnostic, but there is a special type of religion I experience whenever I think of him — my heart feels as though it’s been flushed with a deep, holy red, felt only by the most fortunate of lovers once every few lifetimes. My heartstrings feel as though one pluck of their delicate chords would exasperate their continuity. To be crucified for the crime of my pious devotion to him would bring me no shame, for I would boast of my love from atop the highest pier or platform until my last shuddering breath. I disclose my truth: I reassure the universe of our love nightly by believing the assertion, “I love him, and he loves me, and he is closer to me with every passing second.” That is my prayer. I am ashamed to admit that my invocation is selfish. I, too, wish nothing for him but happiness — if I could make only one declaration it would be for him to receive all the wonders life has to offer and to be awarded with the greatest love known to man. But it would be dishonest of me to say that I didn’t wish I was the one bringing him happiness. I hope someone is listening to me, and that they believe it fair and just that my wish be granted. The youthful love that we share cannot be recreated elsewhere; the prose I write dedicated to him I cannot write for anyone else. My love for him remains one of the strongest, most passionate emotions I have ever experienced, and despite my efforts across the years I have failed to revive that sensation elsewhere. I, too, feel a juvenile level of excitement when his name scores itself within the pixels of my phone, like the very first night we conversed at ages nineteen and twenty. I love him with the first breath I take of morning air and I love him with the last breath I take of cold night. And I miss him so terribly — I must have disappointed some karmic entity and been bestowed with some terrible curse to be forced apart from him and provided such irregular conversation. It is torturous work, what the universe has asked of me. Let him come to me sooner, universe, God, somebody listening. Let him understand every morsel of my being, every inch of my soul and body, until this soul he examines is as familiar as his own. Let him dedicate his life to the study of my heart and my mind. Let us be so consumed in our love that the world around us quivers with inspiration and affection. “I worship the ground beneath your feet and have deified you to such an extent in my head that I actually think you’re infallible.” My love, we are infallible. Our love has been deified, to the extent where I don’t need to look elsewhere to comprehend the feeling of enrapturement etched throughout the lines of history. I am completely and intensely captivated, delighted, and entranced. He speaks my name into existence in rooms I will never walk in.  He claims that I am “ever present.” He made me become conscious of the fact, at nearly noon, that we have been at this for “the past half decade” — and I vow to the eons to love him the same way I have for half decades more. “I love you from afar with just as much strength and resolve as I would were we together. In the end it’s always you.” Oh how that bittersweetly breaks my heart. What love have we missed out on owing to the lack of one another? The pulsating cathartic release that I experienced on January 18th and 19th was one that I did not anticipate and one that I was prophetically yearning for. I transcendentally yearn now for sweet July, when we are next approximated to speak. Oh how I dream of the sweet blue-purple-pink skies that signal my time is near! 

[graysoncritic]

A (Negative) Review of Tom Taylor's Nightwing Run - Conclusion

Introduction Who is Dick Grayson? What Went Wrong? Dick's Characterization What Went Wrong? Barbara Gordon What Went Wrong? Bludhaven (Part 1, Part 2) What Went Wrong? Melinda Lin Grayson What Went Wrong? Bea Bennett What Went Wrong? Villains Conclusion Bibliography

Though it may not appear so given the length of this essay, I did try to be fair to Taylor and Redondo. I focused my criticism on Taylor because my knowledge of written storytelling far exceeds my knowledge of visual storytelling, especially when it comes to sequential art. As such, I did not think it was my place to criticize something that I did not feel entirely comfortable addressing.

As I implied in the introduction, this essay was both an intellectual exercise and a cathartic one. Much of the information in it were reworded discussions I had with other Dick Grayson fans throughout the past couple of years. I must also thank them for allowing me to quote them when appropriate, as none of this would have been possible without their contribution. The essay itself was written in the time span of months, and sometimes I went weeks without even opening the document, only doing so again when a new issue came out and I wanted to vent.

As I worked on this, I was able to articulate a frustration that has been building up inside of me and, I know, many Dick Grayson fans for years. These frustrations are not exclusive to Taylor's writing. Rather, Taylor’s writing is but the most obvious and prominent example of said problem, with new and old symptoms drawing glaring attention to themselves on a monthly basis. The real problem behind all of these grievances and, quite frankly, the hurt Dick Grayson fans feel at the moment is rooted in the fact that DC Comics as a whole seems determined to undermine, if not completely erase, the importance of this amazing character.

There are other ways in which this can be observed. One of the Dick Grayson fans I know has been collecting examples of this erasure that span decades. I, myself, have thoughts on the motivations behind these actions and how they are reflective of a societal dislike for those who are othered, and especially those who challenge patriarchal ideals, the gender binary, and heteronormative culture. 

Perhaps one day I will address those subjects. Or perhaps not. As cathartic as writing this was, I do want to write more about the things I love rather than the things I hate. But I also believe it is important to express dissatisfaction when experienced, to vent when required, and to critique when necessary.

If you stuck around this far, then I do not believe that this needs stating, but just in case, I must assert that I reject any claims that comics should not be analyzed in this much depth. I do not, for a second, believe that comics are above serious criticism simply due to their format or their content. Comics, like every form of storytelling, are worthy of being examined and dissected. They are a part of our culture. They are literature and as such, they deserve to be studied. 

This essay explored Taylor’s current, ongoing run of Nightwing. I believe it proved not only its failure as a good story, but also as a good Nightwing story. Taylor’s superficial characterization, weak plot, and simplistic morality that undermines the story’s stated themes, demonstrate that Taylor does not care about Dick Grayson. He does not see Dick as a character worthy of his care and attention. At the very best Taylor lacks the knowledge to understand Dick. At the very best, Taylor has no interest in getting to know him, nor any respect for his predecessors to learn how they handled Dick and incorporating their work into his continuity. At worst, he despises the character so much that he wishes to re-invent him into something different, tossing away everything that was special to his fans in order to bring in a new crowd that never cared about Dick Grayson before he was made palatable to them. 

And that attitude is not isolated to Taylor. It is, I believe, observable throughout much of DC. Not all current writers, editors, and artists are like this, of course, but for years — decades, actually — there have been attempts to erase Dick’s importance to certain characters, to replace him, to downplay his achievements and his uniqueness in order to prop up others, and to water him down until he becomes but a shadow of who he was. Sometimes, it feels like DC is trying to kill Dick Grayson, remove his parts and give to other characters. This character gets his unique relationship with Bruce. This character gets to keep Dick’s relevance to Robin. These characters can have Bludhaven. For how long, I must wonder, do Dick Grayson fans have to put up with this silently? Must we just quietly watch this continue until Dick is all hollowed out and is only a memory living in the hearts of those who love him? 

Because we do love him. We love him for all the special characteristics that made him different, that did not make him into a blank canvas, an every-man hero. I do not hate Taylor personally, but I believe that his clear disinterest in Nightwing is not an isolated case, and that DC, at this moment in time, is unwilling to engage with Dick’s character and his fans. They want a brand new and palatable hero to step into his place, not the long standing bastion who has been around longer than most of DC’s characters. They don’t want Dick Grayson. They do not respect or care for him. And as such, I believe Dick’s fans have a right to be angry and to feel like DC does not care or respect them. 

I do not know how long these attempts at erasing Dick will last. I do not know how long-lasting the effects of Taylor’s run will be. But trends come and go, and Dick has been around for nearly a century. He’s a strong enough character to survive this long, and I believe, despite previous and current attempts, that he will survive this as well.

And as he does, I will be there, cheering him on. 

[evansbby]

GIRLIE GIRLIE GIRLIE LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN. I HAVE AN IDEA FOR A REQUEST.

[Its also 03:57AM and I’m crying my eyes out, so I might regret this when I woke up lolllll]

Hear me out, hear me out, hear me out. See the visionnnnn. So, this is my request:

Sugar daddy!Ari AU. This is a little after the reader becomes his girlfriend. The reader hasn’t really gotten it into her head that she’s not just his sugar baby, but she’s his love, so she tends to hide her feelings and pain and raw emotions from him because she wants to sort of keep up the image of her being his sexy personal nymphomaniac because she thinks he’ll leave if she’s real with him.

So let’s say, something happened. Maybe an argument with her terrible family or her shitty friends gossip about her or she’s burnt out from taking care of others or someone shames her for something, idk, you’re the author, you decide what happens, but anyways.

Something happens that made her extremely sad and miserable, but she’s trying to hide her feelings from Ari, she pretends everything is fine (it’s not lol), she’s acting a little weird cos she’s trying to keep up appearances so that he won’t dismiss and discard her, etc. But Ari, being her daddy and the smart motherfucker he is, knows that something is wrong with his precious girl.

So basically, shit goes down with her and Ari and he soft doms her (maybe a little hard dom too) and comforts her and reassures her that she’s his girl and not just a plaything and all that lovey dovey shit. Oh, and aftercare lol! Only if you want to.

This probably could’ve been said in fewer words, but I’m crying my eyes out and it’s a little cathartic to type this out lol, sorryyyy. Thank youuuu! Love your writing!

Oh I would love to read this 😭😭😭

But you see I’m insane so I need to make it more sad so if I were to write this…

I’d make it so that reader is very insecure and she thinks she’s not good enough to be Ari’s girlfriend (kind of along the lines of what you said) and she thinks she’s only good enough for sex bc she has zero feelings of self worth 🤧🤧🤧 and no matter what Ari says or does to reassure her and uplift her, she just doesn’t believe him😔😔

And she keeps pushing herself away from him, bc she thinks he deserves better bc he’s such a nice guy and it’s not a normal sugar daddy relationship bc Ari doesn’t even expect sex from her (although they do have great amazing perfect sex) but Ari just loves talking to her all night, getting to know her interests, buying her special gifts that match her interests… And reader is overwhelmed bc she’s sooo insecure and she thinks she doesn’t deserve this happiness. She’s scared of letting herself be happy in case Ari “wakes up” one day and realises he can do better and leaves her🥲 (he wouldn’t but she thinks he will).

So then one day she gets so overwhelmed that she breaks up with him impulsively. But we all know what a strong mature wise perfect daddy Ari is, so he’d be like “let’s talk this out” and she bursts into tears and tells him that he deserves better and that she’s broken and she needs to go away so he can start living his life instead of always worrying about her 🥲🥲🥲 and Ari tells her that he’s in love with her and he couldn’t live without her and then they have sex 🥺🥺🥺 where Ari is being a soft dom and sooo perfect and sexy and reader needed this bc she needs him to tell her what to do so she can relax and stop worrying. Her mind never turns off during the day and she’s wracked with insecurities and fear, but with Ari… he lets her mind go blank so she doesn’t need to think, and she feels okay.

But then she’s up all night and Ari is asleep and she watches him and all her insecurities come back and she thinks that he deserves better and he can’t spend his whole life with her as a burden just bc she’s so insecure all the time 🥲🥲

So she leaves… without a note or a phone call or anything. In fact, she moves far away to live with a distant relative and deletes her social media. Ari calls her and texts her every single day, begging her to pick up or come back etc and she changes her phone number 🥲🥲🥲 some of her friends tell her that Ari is miserable and he’s still looking for her and waiting for her but she hopes he will move on soon.

Anyways then reader starts working on herself, she gets a job in an industry she likes and she makes some new friends. She starts seeing a therapist and slowly, bit by bit, her confidence starts to grow. She realises she deserves love as much as anyone else does. And she misses Ari so much bc he really was the love of her life 🥹🥹 it’s been a whole year now and one day she decides she wants to see him again. She wants to try again and hopefully he’d be open to getting back together with her.

She shows up at his door with Chinese takeaway (their favourite meal they’d have together) and Ari answers the door and he’s shocked to see her. And she says she thinks she’s all whole again, she thinks she’s fixed and she’d like to give it a try with him once more. And she got food 🍲

But then she looks beyond his shoulder and sees another girl. And Chinese takeaway already on the table. He’s moved on. She’s heartbroken. But she smiles and tells him she’s happy for him. He tries to stop her but she leaves.

THE END 😭😭😭😭