#Like I love that y'all write ANYTHING

[devilfemdom]

I just want a murder reader/mc, that surely can't be too much to ask for in hell

Where and why are all these innocent readers turning up in hell of all places 😭

If y'all want to write someone nice, at least make them a resident of the Hazbin Hotel and they've been there for a while, explaining their kindness

Make it make sense

[amogus-real-not-clickbait]

here's some benreys for y'all!!! it's meal time little ones!!!! nobody starves today. i provide

also random gordo he's here too i guess-

[quirkle2]

[zombie au] the image is too big for tumblr i had to cut it in half GVEAUYGV (please for the love of god zoom in)

[kaelidascope]

I need to make a point of saying that contrary to popular belief, I do not read. I do not enjoy reading, I hate being asked to read things, reading is exhausting and a chore. I like to write just for the sake of writing. The act of writing itself gives me so much gratification just to be able to do it!

But if I saw this bitch in the wild at 300k+ words I would never fucking touch it LMAOO doesn't matter HOW good it is man that's way too fucking long

what the fuck was I THINKING LMAO THIS SHIT IS INSANE I WOULD NEVER READ THIS

Not saying I think MM is bad or not worth the read. I certainly think it is! But for like, you know, people who like to read. Not me LOL glad some of y'all literally will sit and re-read this shit regularly though. Y'all juggernauts for that

It's not even like I write topics that I don't enjoy. I certainly enjoy them, otherwise I wouldn't be writing them. But I like writing them, not reading them. But that's not exclusive to topics, I just don't read anything in general

[kittycatcorner]

shows up to give you the coffinchain challenge

Please be more careful when you cross the road You’re a perfect arrangement of rickety bones

Stray cats.

Peter had always likened the apprentices to a group of stray cats, in his mind.

At first it was out of distaste. They were a nuisance; a band of drifters slinking around the alleyways, catching their quarries unaware. The quick, sharp jab of a hypodermic needle might as well have been the efficient killing bite that a cat might deliver to the throat of its prey. They worked in the shadows, occupying all of those lonely abandoned buildings and reworking them for a new, twisted purpose. 

Then, begrudgingly, he’d found himself wrapped up in Mark Hoffman. Chasing him, hunting him, hellbent on bringing him to justice, then on killing him, then on understanding him, then…

Well, Peter didn’t know what he was doing now. 

All he knew was that sitting in his apartment, in varying states of composure, were three of Jigsaw’s disciples. 

Dr. Gordon sat on his couch, eyes trained down as his hands worked on bandaging a fresh wound on the arm of his younger accomplice. Stanheight sat quietly and allowed for the medical attention with little fight. Hoffman himself sat on the floor, back leaned against the couch close to the other two. 

Peter remained standing, trying not to buckle at the absurdity of his situation. In true stray-animal nature, he had made the mistake of allowing Hoffman into his home once, twice, thrice, and now he’d come back with friends. 

‘Don’t feed the strays’, indeed. 

Accept that he did know the other two, at this point. The polite Dr. Gordon was well-spoken and direct; Peter had found him infuriating in the beginning. He was a hard man to interrogate and an even harder man to intimidate, as level and unflinching as he was. Unlike Peter, he never seemed to let his anger get the best of him, and he seemed to know that. Dr. Gordon was a man who always seemed very aware of how much more control he had in the conversation. It was enviable. 

Then there was Adam Faulkner-Stanheight. Mouthful of a name. It was strange enough for Peter to wrap his head around the fact that the kid was alive, let alone working with Jigsaw. He was angry- had more rage in his scrawny little body than what felt possible. Stupid and impulsive, Peter had found him annoying. Just a petulant adolescent who had gotten himself into bigger trouble than he yet realized. 

They’ve come a long way since then. Both apprentices had grown on him, maybe because they reminded him of himself in their amalgamate qualities. The cold, callous bluntness of the doctor. The white-hot temper of the kid. The way he had never seen the former so gentle nor the latter so complacent until now, as they patched themselves together on his bloodied furniture. 

Peter had been reluctant to welcome them all inside. It was bad enough to shelter one serial killer, but now three? It reminded him that everything he’s been doing as of late is against what he once stood for. Fuck, it would solve a hell of a lot of his own problems if he didn't care. If he’d let them all rot, make them regret thinking that Peter would risk his own hide just because he's been friendly with them. Dr. Gordon and Stanheight had seemed to understand this too. Their expressions had been apprehensive, looking ready to flee like the animals they were. Peter wonders how long ago he would have given chase. 

Hoffman had spoken, then. 

“I didn’t-” His voice was shot and exhausted. “I didn’t know where else to go, Strahm.” 

And just like that, Peter took them in. Those words were all it took. Hoffman limped inside on a bad leg and described some sort of police-raid, premature. John Kramer and Amanda Young hadn’t even been there, so it had just been the trio, and they were forced to flee. Unable to go far on foot in their current state, Hoffman had brought his injured companions here. To Peter. 

Why did that make something strange stir within him? 

The three of them were soaked to the bone from the rain. Peter watched Hoffman sluggishly attempt to remain alert, but every so often his head would lull and come to rest against the soft thigh of Dr. Gordon. If the doctor noticed it, he didn't say a word as he continued to diligently work. He looked tired. Stanheight was putting on the best brave face he could manage, but Peter’s keen eyes caught his shoulders trembling, only eased when Gordon’s hand came to rest on one and rubbed gently. They all looked so tired. 

Unable to watch any longer, Peter finally broke the silence. 

“So why are you still doing this?” It took everything in him to not fidget idly as he spoke, brows furrowed at the three men. 

All eyes were on him quite suddenly, sharp as they regarded him. Three clever pairs of observant eyes that all screamed out ‘I know more than I’m letting on' to Peter. He held their gazes, muscled arms crossed over his chest. 

“You know what I’m talking about.” He scoffed, lip curling. “What’s the point of doing the old man's dirty work when he just lets things like this happen to you?” 

Silence.

Hoffman broke first. He laughed, eyes closing as he rested more fully against the couch. It was good-natured but ultimately dismissive. 

Dr. Gordon frowned at Peter, one brow quirked as if he had asked them something incredibly naive. Like he expected Peter to know already. 

Stanheight didn't react. Not outwardly, anyways. He only stared, something new and strange glittering in his eyes that Peter couldn't place.

“What,” Peter grit his teeth, an edge to his voice. Less of a question and more of a prompt. 

“Nothing, nothing. Apologies, Mr. Strahm.” Gordon sighed, turning his attention back to his handiwork. He appeared to nearly be done with the worst of Stanheight’s injuries now. “It’s just… not that simple.”

“Not exactly the kinda job you can put your two weeks in for.” Hoffman corroborated, a smirk tugging at his full lips. 

Peter felt his face burn hot, and he huffed in frustration. “You fucking- Don’t play dumb. Don’t act like it’s a stupid question. I’ll throw you back out onto the fucking curb.” He jabbed a finger at Hoffman in particular, who for his part did indeed shut his mouth. “You listening? Good. What I’m saying is that John Kramer is one demented old man. What is actually stopping you?” 

This time, the quiet was punctuated by Hoffman and Gordon exchanging an uncomfortable glance. After a moment, Hoffman shrugged and ran one hand through his damp, messy hair. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of, uh, checks ‘n balances.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow skeptically. Hoffman continued. 

“Information is power, etcetera. Kramer keeps basically everything on a need-to-know basis. Including, I dunno, who you’re workin’ with half the time. Hell,” He rolled his eyes, and lazily raised a hand behind his head to pat Gordon’s arm. The doctor made an annoyed noise in response, shifting away from him. “He only told me about these lovebirds when he needed help lookin’ after ‘em.” 

“I’m still mad about missing out on a trip to Mexico.” Stanheight quipped. His voice was softer than normal, but Peter supposed it was a good sign that he was speaking at all. He wasn’t used to the younger man being so quiet. 

Gordon straightened up a moment later, gently patting down the new bandages and brushing some of the hair from Stanheight’s face. “There you go.” He sighed. The warmth in his tone was so palpable that Peter had the distinct feeling it wasn’t meant for his ears. Despite being in his own apartment, he somehow felt he was intruding. “Get comfortable, alright?” 

Peter watched as Stanheight pulled himself to his feet, stopping short just a little ways away from him with an awkward shuffle. Gordon patted his thigh and spoke his next words like they took all of his energy to say. 

“Your turn.” He didn’t even bother to look at Hoffman. The detective grinned anyways, wasting no time in clamoring up into Gordon’s personal space and slinging his leg across the man’s lap. Gordon shook his head disdainfully, but carefully began rolling back Hoffman’s torn pant leg anyways. 

Peter guessed he wasn’t the only one that Hoffman lived to irritate.

“Christ, Mark.” Gordon sucked in a sharp breath, and Peter’s shoulders stiffened as he took a step forward to look. His stomach sank despite himself; from where he was standing Hoffman’s calf looked like a bloody mess. Peter’s a man who’s seen more gore in his line of work than anyone should hope to see in their lifetime, and yet here he is, staring in alarm. It was unlike him, and woefully he could only attribute his own uneasiness to the owner of the calf. 

As if he could read his mind, Hoffman looked up towards Peter. “Hey, it’s just-” He winced, hissing in pain as Gordon began to clean the wound. “It’s no big deal- no bullet inside. Just grazed me.” 

“You were shot?” Peter balked.

“Grazed,” Hoffman corrected. 

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose in a quick-rising frustration. Hoffman was impossible. 

“Don’t be an idiot.” Gordon’s voice was little more than a growl as he spoke through gritted teeth. “You took an unnecessary risk. Do you think I enjoy patching you back together? Honestly, if I didn't know any better I’d assume you were trying to get your sorry self killed.” 

Dr. Gordon’s tone left the detective bristling. “Don’t tell me how to do my job.” He scoffed. “Hell, I don’t bother you when you’re workin’ in the sickbay. Why don't you just- fuck!” 

Hoffman yelped at the unceremonious splash of disinfectant. Gordon gave him the sort of well-practiced fake smile that only a doctor could.

“My bad,” he murmured, unapologetic. 

Peter decided he’d seen enough. He turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen, telling himself that he was just stepping aside to get ice in case the doctor needed some. He knew it wasn't the truth, though; he scolded himself quietly as he leaned against the wall and ran a hand through his graying hair. 

The truth was that he couldn't keep standing there, staring at Hoffman’s leg injury. 

It’s ironic, because it feels like not too long ago that Peter would have done anything to put a bullet in Hoffman. Now the thought makes him feel… queasy. And a bit confused. 

Peter found himself comparing the apprentices to strays again.

He couldn’t get the image of roadkill splattered on the side of the highway out of his head. 

From what he knew of John Kramer and his cult, the apprentices were expendable parts. It doesn't even sound like they can trust each other half the time. One wrong move or fatal mistake would be all it took. Peter wasn't even sure how long it would take him to know something had happened. 

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps so quiet that he knew exactly who they belonged to before turning around. Stanheight stood at the entryway of his bare-bones kitchen, watching him. He’s probably spent the least amount of time alone with him. 

“What is it?” Peter’s frown deepened.

The kid didn't answer immediately, instead coming to lean against the wall beside him. He was quiet for a moment, and then shrugged. 

“Wanted to check on you, I guess.” He answered simply. 

“Check on me? In what way do I need checking on?” Raising a brow, Peter gestured towards the living room. “Look at you three, for fuck’s sake.” 

Stanheight held his hands up defensively. “Hey, hey, I just- I get it, alright?”

Peter didn't know what that meant. He stared down at the shorter man, scowl ever-present, silently prodding him to elaborate. Stanheight’s expression was… almost sympathetic, but his eyes had that same strange look from before: the one that Peter couldn't place. 

The kid was easy to underestimate, Peter knew it from his file and from his current involvement. He wasn't about to make that mistake with him. 

“Sucks, doesn't it?” Stanheight finally said. He was muttering now, glancing once over his shoulder to ensure they were still alone. “One thing to know what they're doing and another to see them come back with blood and bits of their skin hanging off.”

Peter felt his stomach turn. “No,” he lied. “If Hoffman’s gonna be reckless and get himself killed then so be it.” 

“No matter what you or anyone else thinks, I’m not stupid.” Stanheight laughed dryly. “You don't gotta lie to me, okay? I’m on team Peter here.” 

“Are we forgetting that you’re one of ‘them’ too?” Peter steeled his gaze, unamused. 

Stanheight grimaced. “I mean- kind of. Not really.”

“‘Not really?’ What’s that mean?” 

“I- like- like I’m with them but I’m not one of them. Old Johnny-boy has never and will never give a shit about me. Not exactly in the running to be his heir or whatever the others think will happen.” Stanheight huffed, rolling his eyes as he explained. “Pretty sure he wouldn't even notice if I went missing if it weren't for the pictures ‘n schedules I go and get for him.”

Peter is quiet for a moment. 

“Why stick around?” He asked softly, already knowing the answer. 

The kid just snorted in lieu of answering, and the two fell into silence once more for a couple of seconds. 

“Glad that Mark has you.” Stanheight suddenly murmured, thoughtful. 

“He does not ‘have me’.” 

“Maybe you can knock some sense into him.” 

Peter scoffed, looking elsewhere. “You’re frustrating, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” Stanheight laughed, “I’m not kidding, though. It always freaks me out how Mark gets when he’s like…” 

Raising a brow, Peter waited for him to sort out his thoughts. 

“Like, when he gets hurt, right? He just- just runs off. Or he’ll go and get hammered on the other side of town and when we find him he’s a mess.” 

At that, Peter’s shoulders went rigid. He was aware of Mark’s habits, his unhealthy coping mechanism. He hadn't thought about who else might know, how deeply it might run. He hadn't thought about how often Mark must be alone. 

When he looked back at Stanheight, he realized the kid was staring at him intently. There was concern in his expression, but also something fierce. 

“John’s really messed him up. Worse than he was before all of this.” His voice was low, almost cautious. “All of them. Lawrence, Mark, Mandy, none of them deserve this. You know that, right?”

Peter’s mouth felt dry. “I…” 

Straightening up again, Stanheight stepped closer to Peter. Before he could see it coming, a smaller hand took his own and held it, inspecting it. “I think Mark needs you.” He said, “maybe all of us do. So you gotta take care of yourself too.” 

Something confused seemed to bloom in his chest then, an uncertain warmth that he could feel rise up to his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when he couldn't decide on anything to say. 

“Just think about it, ‘kay?” Stanheight let go of his hand again and started to leave the kitchen, pausing for just a moment to look back at him. “Oh, one more thing.” 

“What is it?” Peter’s voice was hoarse. 

Stanheight gave him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. “Welcome to the family.” 

Then he was gone, Peter’s protest to that statement dying on his lips, and Peter was left to think on everything he said. 

Hoffman needing him. Hoffman hiding himself away in dark corners to nurse his wounds. Improperly set bones and too much bandage. 

Stray cats.

Peter’s family used to have cats. His sister’s cat had been an old, white, raggedy thing that she named Alfredo. When Alfredo passed away, he had hidden under the bed and refused to come out. Peter thinks he remembers reading somewhere that pets do that on purpose, so their humans don't have to see them die, but it's been years and his animal knowledge is limited. 

Peter wondered how hard it is to socialize a stray cat. To reintroduce it to domesticity. 

He stepped out of the kitchen, lingering at the entryway, and watched the apprentices from where he stood. Gordon seemed to have finished with Hoffman’s leg, speaking to him in a quieter tone than before. To his surprise, Hoffman looked like he was listening. Stanheight was on the couch with them now, leaning his head onto Gordon’s shoulder. 

Peter found that he wished he could freeze this moment with the three of them in it. The bubble of safety that was his living room felt far away from everything Jigsaw. Maybe they were always meant to be here, on soft furniture, and not crouching amongst rusted pipes and jagged metal. 

Tamed. Domesticated. 

He sighed through his nose and walked around the couch, three sets of clever eyes on him again as he caught their attention. Now that he was there, he could see that Dr. Gordon had just begun to wrap up Hoffman’s leg and he silently motioned to ask for the gauze, kneeling down between them.

Understanding the gesture, Gordon handed it over, smiling at Peter warmly enough to raise his body temperature by a degree. 

“Strahm-” Hoffman started, bewildered, but Peter simply began wrapping his leg neatly. 

“Shut up.” He grunted. “Let me help you, stupid.”

[imeriayapping]

My god i just crave loscar fanfiction but my last resort that I'm holding into before starting is boyish, send help

[swallowtail-ageha]

I think someone should study the fact that all of the moral issues people have with coleen hoover are just the modern day version of "this erotic literature will corrupt our pure women!"

[glauces-notebooks]

rewatching night at the museum for the first time in a while and wow. i missed this film.

[byanyan]

wanna toss a little note out there to everyone who's still waiting for me to reply to their dms — i see you, i love you, i promise i still really really want to talk to you, and i'm sorry if it seems like i'm ignoring you and have been since... fuck, october? i'm not, i want to reply, i'm just. struggling enough to just exist rn and socializing in any capacity is extremely strenuous for me and i simply haven't got the spoons for it atm. can't even get myself to function properly, let alone open discord akjsdsdkj i'm so sorry, i'll get back to all of you eventually. tysm for wanting to chat with me and for having such patience with me ;~; ♡

[infiniteorangethethird]

writing aro stories rocks actually it's like every time an amatonormative stereotype pisses me off I can just add another aromantic character to restore the balance of the universe

[arttrampbelle]

Shang tsung doesn't need to be a "good guy" to be sympathetic or do nice or "good" deeds.

Y'all should understand that not everyone needs to be a hero to be redeemed.

That's some bullshit propaganda that y'all tend to fall for.

It's like that feeling of "if you pray to jesus,all you're sins in OUR eyes will be forgiven" type indoctrinated shit. Like no shade thrown,even as someone who is spiritual myself. I find people thinking that a villain in a story should become a hero in order to be redeemed,kinda suspicious.

Shang tsung,to me,has ALWAYS BEEN NUANCED. And already had benevolent qualities and traits. Y'all just only see one damn part of it because the writers suck at showing them properly.

Not to mention if a character isn't obnoxiously nice or mean,y'all don't pay attention to them.

It's like most of mk fans I've noticed,at least as of late. Feels like I'm talking to 3yr olds in media literacy.

So no. Shang tsung needs to be a NEUTRAL CHARACTER. not good,not evil,just self serving and even quite helpful as a tournament master as he is supposed to fucking be.

He is supposed to be that "keep your friends close,keep you enemies closer" type. He is the "the enemy of my enemies are my friends" type. He's scary intelligent,cunning,a master martial artist,a brilliant alchemist,and one badass mofo you do not wanna cross.

But most of all,he is courteous,a gracious host on his island,and his punishments are as great as his rewards. He does keep his end of the bargain,but he also gets compensation.

If anything you need to worry about earthrealms warriors more than him. Half of them now(due to piss poor writing) are hiding behind heroic deeds and false statements of peace yet they have unclean hands too.

With Shang tsung you know what you are dealing with,it's on the table. If you cant read the obvious,you are indeed a foolish one.

No matter what iteration of shang tsung you have. One thing is clear,made clear,and that is when you deal with him. You deal with the devil so to speak.

So if you're not smart nor prepared. That's on your ass honey. Not his. Do not blame him for your stupidity.

But if you know how to play the game,play chess with the serpent. And know these archetypes. Then you may have a better shot. But that's all on you.

Either way,in your favor or not. Do not blame him for telling you exactly what is needed to be said,not what you wanna hear. Honeyed words or not,there's always a sliver of truth and bitter pill of truth in his words. And he's good at making either people hate his guts or bow and worship him.

THAT IS WHY HE'S DANGEROUS. not because of magic,or experiments and other trival bullshit.

Nah.

It's because shang tsung is good at talking. Good at trades and making you believe whatever is what he wants you to see.

Even if it may go against him. He wants you to fuck up,get angry at him,attack,be unbalanced,so he can fuck your shit right up!

Holy shit this mans whole ass moveset is zoning and keeping you in a certain place in the stage even!

It's part of his whole damb character.

I could go on and on. But do not blame to serpent for telling you information for questions you ask him. You're the one who chose to bite his apple of enlightenment and knowledge so to speak.

Which is why the gods,titans,etc want these kombatants,warriors to be stupid. So they are easy to control,to get what they want.

Like it's glaringly obvious that mortal kombats story has these type of tropes and symbolism in it. But people are too blind,for various reasons. To see it.

I could get deep. It's a videogame,i know. It is what it is.

But the more i look at mk12/mk1 shang tsung. The more i feel its a missed opportunity to showcase these themes better for him.

Like holy shit dude. Shang tsung pointing out the hypocrisy of the gods. And whispers in our earthrealm warriors ears. And maybe convincing a few to join his side. Or even better. Our heroes,kung lao and mortal raiden to question liu kang and not blindly follow like fucking idiots. Sure just trust this dude right? Bruh.

Shang tsung is the only one with a brain once again. And i hate them making everyone else so stupid to make him seem better in the shithole plot of theirs. If you can call it a plot.

It burns me,that it's a waste of potential.

But i digress.

Anyways. Shang tsung,way more than an evil conjurer of tricks my dudes. Waaaaaay fucking more.

[evilfloralfoolery]

Y'all can laugh at this real world shit.

[laugtherhyena]

Continuing the rant-iness of last post's notes onto this one i think (I appreciate if they're read, i think I'm too self-conscious to have them in the post itself)

[necrotic-nephilim]

ok but consider this:

jayrose is already established but they want to try and have a threesome with kara, so both of them keep flirting with her and teasing her until she just snaps and then fucks both of them into the ground. they don't know that kara was a red lantern and is into some kinky shit, and they assumed they'd end up breaking her, but then she rims rose while riding jason and they both just lose it. I'm talking overstimulation until they're sobbing, fingering jason while he fucks rose, getting jason to fuck rose at super speed, riding jason at super speed until he disloctaes his hip, fingering rose until she dislocates her hip. ot3

ooooh i *love* this-

i have to admit i know next to nothing about Rose Wilson or Kara Zor-El. i've only really read comics with Rose that didn't handle her well, and as for Kara, i've always been more of a Power Girl than a Supergirl fan so, i don't think i've read anything significant with Kara. that said, the thing that i always enjoy about her whenever i witness her from a distance is her anger and how it always seems to sit under the surface, begging to be unleashed. and i love taking Kryptonians in sex to the extreme with just. absolutely fucked up shit. especially if it's not what the other character(s) expect.

love love the idea of Kara trying to keep her composure against Jason and Rose trying to flirt and rile her up. Jason and Rose can be two very crass, aggressive people. together, they're almost unbearable or Kara to handle, all the flirting and innuendos when they have no idea what they're getting themselves into with her. i like the idea of Kara holding herself back from sex -especially with humans- because she knows she's one for violent hatefucking and she knows humans are way too fragile to all that. it's not that she's not interested in Jason and Rose- if anything she's a little *too* interested. she just knows they don't know exactly what she's capable of. that said, there is something nice for her to be the center of attention. she's never the first Kryptonian people think of, and as far as the "every Bat has a Kryptonian" jokes go, she's never had her own Bat, especially one that comes with a pretty girlfriend who's just a little unhinged. it's even more fun if there's some angst to go along with it, bc Kara knows these are two people who would *understand* her anger, but she doesn't want to hurt them with it.

so when they *finally* make her snap, it's fun. i think it's extra fun if there's some kind of Red Kryptonite sort of situation involved bc i adore Red Lantern Kara a lot and i like putting her at the mercy of her own anger in other situations like that. so the wrong comment from Jason or Rose about how she looks all bloody and angry after a fight and she just snaps. she grabs them both and literally *flies off* until she finds an open field in the middle of nowhere that's secluded enough and wipes the smug looks off both Jason and Rose's faces.

you mentioned Kara making Jason fuck Rose at superspeed and i am *so* into exploring superspeed as like. a *painful* kind of sex. because human bodies just aren't decided to handle that level of friction. i like the thought of Jason liking the idea of it at first, thinking it's something like human vibrator stuff. but by the end he's squirming and whining from his body being forced past it's limits and Rose is just a mess underneath him.

everytime they think Kara is done, she goes at one of them again. spreading Rose's legs too wide to eat her out and holding down Rose as she struggles, even if it dislocates joints. Rose's body can heal pretty instantly, which if anything, only adds to how Kara finds new ways to bend and break it. Jason thinks he'll get a reprieve when he physically *can't* come anymore and Kara rode him so hard that his own hip is in the wrong place, but instead of stopping, she just flips him over and starts fingering him. Kara doesn't care if either of them bleed. she doesn't care if bones end up in the wrong places. this is what they wanted so badly, and now, they can take it. i think it's fun if she shoves the hilt of one of Jason's knives inside of him and tells him he better be careful and make sure it doesn't slip out-

i think it's fun exploring pain tolerance and stamina in a sexual way when you're dealing with vigilantes. how far could Kara take it before Jason and/or Rose are begging her to stop. how many bruises are going to cover their body. at what point does Kara even *decide* to stop, bc sure, she's doing this for the sexual release but she's also just doing it to get out all the pent-up anger and frustration she's been harboring for the months they've been teasing her. she's not even *really* letting loose, that's the fun part. letting loose would break them too far. she's basically just *toying with Jason and Rose. at some point Jason even gets jealous of Rose's healing factor bc it means Kara can go further with her, and is less careless about holding Rose's chest so tight that ribs crack. even overstimulated and in so much pain he can barely think, Jason is *delighted* by this side of Kara he didn't know about and wants to see how far she goes. he'd risk the Lazarus Pit again just to give her the chance to stop holding back, honestly. and Rose is thriving too. no one has ever taken advantage of her healing factor like this, not even Jason during their most kinky sessions. it's that feral sort of inhuman state they're both reduced to until Kara is satisfied. she probably *almost* leaves them in the middle of nowhere, but decides to be kind and plop them on a random rooftop in Gotham, even though most of their clothes are gone and neither of them can walk. it's a subtle reminder of how far she *could* go if she wanted to. it's her way of telling them to not mess with her bc next time, she'll drop them off in the Arctic if she has to.

of course, they mess with her again.

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Not Needed

Harry Potter went missing the night the Potter’s died. The Magical world looked for him but to no avail. No Hogwarts letter was ever sent, no messy mop of black hair appeared on the first day of school. To the rest of the world he was as good as dead. A shame that no one counted on adoption.

Some tags: Falling in Love, Getting Together, Smart Harry Potter, Bookworm Harry Potter, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Harry Stays Out of the War, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry, Top Draco Malfoy, Draco Runs Away

Ao3

Gifted to @brainrot-has-overtaken-me

[optiwashere]

How do you manage to write smut that's like, actually arousing? What's the secret?

Well, first of all thank you! I'm glad you enjoy it, I really am. Happy to hear from you here as well 💜

Also, I'll let you in on my secret — I can't stand almost anything I write after it's posted. I see nothing but the flaws, grammatical choices, and technical foibles. This extends triple, quadruple, to smut. So if you're feeling the same kinda way, that your writing feels somehow off, then just know you're not alone.

I could give some pointers, but I don't really know how much benefit anyone will get hearing these from me of all people. But in my opinion it's a lot of the non-smut aspects that highlight the smut and make it shine. So here ya go.

Keep it in-character. I'm not out here talking as an authority on anyone's characterization, nor am I saying I'm some master of it and there are plenty of people out there with differing opinions, so take this with a colossal mountain of salt. But you should focus on making the voices, internal thoughts, and prose in keeping with the POV character. This is something called "POV control" and it's a very useful skill. Be able to flow in and out of a character's POV as the need arises. How Shadowheart interacts with sex is very different from Karlach is different from Orin, for example.

Strong focus on dialogue. This is a sorta addendum to the first point. Characters shouldn't suddenly turn silent when they're having sex. That is, unless that's the point of the story! They should also be speaking in-character even (or especially) during sex. Also, "porn dialogue" is something that gets brought up a lot in writing, and I think we all know it when we read it. That being said, people in the real world do say things during sex that, out of context, are hilarious. So it's a balancing act.

Fitting descriptions. This is actually one of the more important ones! If a scene is very romantic and meant to be light and fluffy, maybe avoid words for genitals altogether and focus entirely on simple visual aesthetics (how moonlight plays on a body, to give an example). If it's meant to be rough and focused on bodies or the mechanics of the scene, ham it up on those words. This also isn't a binary. Things flow back and forth all the time.

Firm language. I don't mean, like, power dynamics "firm." I'm talking about a willingness to use the words that fit the descriptions and sticking to it. Some people despise certain words, but other people will find the alternatives hilarious and completely tone-breaking. Find the words you like and stick to them; consistency gives your voice strength.

Don't try to appease everybody. You just can't. You have to write what you personally enjoy reading/writing/doing/thinking about, and go with it. If you try to cater to everyone's whims with any of the above, you'll wind up with a beige platter of nothingness. That doesn't mean you can't explore other tones or flavors, but don't try to do too much in one story.

Focus on emotions. Emotions could mean anything from love to lust to anxiety to fear to uncertainty and so on and so forth. My strategy is to center a fic on a theme/emotion that resonates with the characters involved and then I explore the smut around that central point. Revisit the idea between the action. Show how the characters' feelings around the theme change or how they're reaffirmed.