#Writers have a life outside of fanfic

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

I’m still waiting on chapter 3 to this https://www.tumblr.com/x-bluefire-heart-x/739366779774746625/hands-on-learning?source=share!

Okay, I'm going to be very blunt and most likely a btich. These kind of messages are not great to send, especially when an author has already answered a similar message and has made posts regarding their writing timelimes and updates. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad people like my works but getting near consistent comments or messages like this is not going to magically make the author have the time, energy or motivation to write or update a particular story. In most cases it has the opposite effect then what you probably want it to have. As most authors would feel pressured by it and that does not help a writers creativity at all. Writers write most of the time for themselves, so if they're not feeling the flow with a particular story they most likely won't force it. Most works tend to be better if they are done when the creative drive is directed at them and the writer is motivated for that particular story.

I will update this story eventually, but right now that is not where my writing is focused. So as I said in a post before, be patient. I do have responsibilities and tasks outside of writing fanfic, that are far more important. Writing is a hobby for me, and like most hobbies it is done when you have time, energy and motivation.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

I don't not mean this offensively at all but is blows my mind that you are a lawyer but also writing jjk fics bc I work at a law firm and cannot for the life of me imagine any of the lawyers that work there writing fanfiction LOL kudos to u seriously I know how busy schedues can get due to court dates haha

im working in like. big city criminal law stuff right now and have been told by people in my office that i come off as a very deadpan and straight-laced legal nerd so i don't think the people who know me from my attorney life are imagining me writing jjk fanfic in my free time either

[hoshigray]

I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!” 

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure. 

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby. 

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet. 

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room. 

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff. 

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now! 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows. 

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.” 

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold. 

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie. 

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes. 

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly.  “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by. 

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies. 

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”  

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit. 

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!” 

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.” 

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more. 

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?” 

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure. 

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance. 

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

 “Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict. 

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity. 

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.” 

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax. 

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth. 

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.  

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior. 

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub. 

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane. 

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?” 

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh. 

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[neon-danger]

No one has posted anything new in All Time Lows ao3 in like three days and it’s upsetting I need something new to read 😭

Homie my homie I understand ur dilemma but I am just one tiny little author writing for a fanbase with not very many other tiny little authors

[xxsabitoxx]

Get to Know Me!

This is just a fun little thing I’ve been wanting to do since the dawn of time but could never find a post to reblog that satisfied what I wanted. So I made this, feel free to reblog and use it yourself!

❤️ how tall are you?

🧡 what is your sexuality?

💛 what is your favorite feature on yourself?

💚 where are you from?

🩵 do you have any pets?

💙 do you have any siblings?

💜 describe yourself in five words or less!

🩷 dream job?

🖤 favorite hobbies outside of your blog

🎂 when is your birthday?

🌙 your zodiac (Sun, Moon, Rising)

💉do you have tattoos and/or piercings

🚗 can you drive?

✈️ favorite place you’ve traveled

🎤 have you been to a concert

🎵 favorite artists

🎧 last song you listened too

📺 last show you watched

📝 last thing you wrote

🔐 something no one would guess about you

🧟‍♀️ scariest thing that’s happened to you

🔥 craziest thing that’s ever happened to you

🍓 favorite food

🍅 least favorite food

🍊 favorite season?

🍋 favorite genre to read / watch / write

🍐 if you could make one character real, who would it be

🫐 some place you’d love to visit

🍇 a word your friends would use to describe you

🍒 what is your earliest memory

🍌 what is one talent you wish you had

💌 why did you start this blog?

✏️ when did you start writing fanfic

🖇️ what are your favorite asks to answer

📚 how do you come up with the fics you write

📌 what is the fic you’re know for

🔍 what character do you enjoy writing for the most

🖊️ what character do you not enjoy writing for

💔 is there a fic you wish you didn’t write

❤️‍🔥 what character do you simp for most often

🧚‍♀️ favorite characters of all time

🪐 favorite shows / series of all time

🌝 a show you would recommend to anyone

🌚 a show you’d tell people to stay away from

🌹 favorite kinks to write for

🥀 kinks you would never write for

🌊 a kink you would like to write but you think you’d be judged

❄️ full fics, imagines or head canons

☂️ your favorite fanfic from another writer

A couple of in depth questions!

🍄 what is something that’s happened in your life that you wish you could go back and change?

⭐️ what is one of your biggest accomplishments? Why is it so important to you?

🪻what is the toughest thing you had to go through, but can say you’ve successfully overcome?

🌺 what is the best gift someone has ever given you and why is it so important

🍀 what is your comfort show/series and why is it your comfort show? How has it helped you?

[soulc-hilde]

You’re my Favorite

Pairing: Eminem x afab!reader

Warning: Implied smut, mentions of sexual intercourse, cursing, body shaming, fatphobia

Synopsis: Caught in the chaos of ’06, Marshall falls into bed with one of the most influential actresses of the decade. Despite his desire to let her in and know who Marshall Mathers is outside of the bedroom, his insecurities always seem. Chasing away the love of his life, eighteen years of loneliness darkens his soul until he makes a slip up in an interview.

Based off of this request – speaking of, if you wish to request work from writers (free work, at that) please do not move to another writer and make the same request unless the first writer denies you or completely ignores you. It’s a form of respect, a lot of us writers are adults with working lives, especially in America’s economy. Unfortunately, things are not going to be done in that second. If this happens again, I will simply deny the request and/or close my inbox and strictly do fanfic series. Please, respect your writers.

He silently watches her, nestled into his side, head resting on his chest with arms wrapped around his waist. She was beautiful. So, unconventionally beautiful which was a surprise as not many highly rated actresses such as herself were permitted such grace to keep their natural features.

As her eyes lock onto the action-packed scenes of Snakes on a Plane – a quick joke he made knowing that the poor woman hated seeing herself on camera, her palm absently rubs at his stomach.

His heart thumps, nearly dropping to his ass. Since the death of Deshaun, Marshall had took to the shadows, hiding away surrounded by food and drugs. The only thing that kept the rapper from facing malnourishment was his drug-infused munchies; however, there was a downfall to this.

The once lean man transformed into a round, depressed version of who he once was. His face was constantly flushed and blank.He was the epitome of heartache. Although, his new weight gain didn’t really put off the groupies.

There were some who chased after him just because of his wealth and others who did it as a joke, snorting to their friends whether ‘Fatty Shady’ was better than ‘Slim Shady.’ He wasn’t fazed at first, not at all; bitches will be bitches, he’d mutter to himself.

That was until he was to meet her at a restaurant for some quick lunch before heading back to his place. Arriving first, the Detroit native settled in the back of the dining floor in a booth, looking over the menu when a few waiters – just teenagers, kept pacing around his table with their indiscreet attempts at trying to confirm if he was the man in their heads.

One had raced back to the kitchen, shouting, “dude, Eminem’s here. Right now, he’s here in that last booth.”

The others lean out, eyes darting with excitement only to drop at the sight of the slumped over fat man in the booth.

“Man,” one of them scoffs, “that’s not Eminem. That’s just a fat man who looks like ‘em. Slim Shady’s skinny.”

Returning to their jobs, Marshall sits frozen behind the menu. His face screamed unbothered, but his heart shattered. He wasn’t too sure how much more he could take of this. Losing Proof, himself, hell, maybe his career – it was all just too much at once.

And yet, she seemed to make it better. Whether in public or in private, she never cared for the Eminem side of things, she wanted Marshall. When they undergo their sexcapades, she’d proudly praise his body with innocent kisses that were enough to send shivers down his spine.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he mutters, watching her snap out of her own little world.  She looks up at him with scrunched eyebrows, “do what?”

His shoulders rise, imitating that of a shy child. “Pretend like this is ideal. Like, like I’m the man that you dream of when you lay beside me.”

She shifts, leaning on her elbow. “Are you, are you saying that you’re not Marshall Mathers?” The woman feigns horror, bottom lip trembling in despair. “Are you a clone?”

She pauses, “my God, you’re a clone.” She leaps out of the bed, bare naked. She points a freshly manicured finger at him, shouting, “clone! Clone!”

The rapper bites back a laugh, shaking his head. He could’ve slept with anyone, any actress; he just had to choose the goofy one. Finding it impossible, he breaks into a laugh, tossing a pillow her way.

Regardless of how cool she appeared on camera; she lacked a lot of that appeal. She was a klutz and though she was more of the silent, observant kind, it wasn’t the sexy one. It was like that one kid in your school that didn’t fuck with anybody or anything, they were a ghost.

She misses it by a hair, the pillow crashes into her knee causing her to stumble with a laugh. “Shut up,” Marshall laugh. “I’m not no damn clone. Hell, that might be better than looking like this fat fuck.”

This time, she throws the pillow at him. The humor in her eyes has disappeared and instead, replaced with a somber glare. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you look,” she carefully scolds taking her place at his side once more.

“If you’re uncomfortable because you’re unhealthy, then that’s one thing, but being fat is not a bad thing nor is it unattractive.”

“You can stop fuckin’ lying to me,” he snarls, face burning with anger as his insecurities flush through his mind.

“No one’s lying to you, Marshall! Baby, you were handsome then and you’re handsome now. If you want to take care of yourself then so be it, but that doesn’t mean you have to harm your self-esteem.”

“Stop fucking lying to me,” he barks, “and just be honest. Can you really stand seeing my fat ass fucking you? You don’t ever stop and wonder if I’ll suffocate you? Is the dick that good or are you that much of a slut?”

“If I was such a fucking slut, Marshall, I would’ve already up and left months ago! Just admit that you care and we can go about this like fucking adults.” He continues to shake his head, “get the fuck out.”

But she keeps pushing. “You fucking care and that scares you, I get it, but that doesn’t make it right for you to fuck other people over.”

“Get out.”

“You’re so deep in your mind and the drugs that you forget that you still have family, people who care about you here and willing to support you! Don’t make Proof’s death into anything less than what it actually was. He died believing in you, wanting the best in you.”

“Get the fuck out!”

“You have daughters, waiting to see their father. Wanting more than just a few minutes of playtime, they want to be under you. They want to feel your presence, not gifts. Not texts or calls. They want you.”

“I swear to God, girl. If you don’t shut the fuck up!”

“I’m not gonna shut the fuck up! How about you act like a man!”

“Bitch, fuck you!”

“I love you!”

He glares at her, panting with blind rage. “I don’t. I never did. You ain’t shit to me, but another dick warmer. You ain’t shit to anybody in fucking Hollywood, but some fucking diversity hire with pretty tits and a fat ass. Maybe you should remember what you’re really here for.”

“You’re right. I’m the diversity eye-candy of Hollywood while you’re the drug addicted culture vulture. I guess we both forgot. I never wanna see you again.” He smirks, watching her storm around the room, dressing herself in a haste.

“Not a problem for me, baby. Not a problem at all.”

She storms out of the room without a look over shoulders. In contrast to his words, Marshall had a problem with this. He forces himself to watch her leave like several times before, playful kisses and phrases absent. As the front door closes, he collapse back into bed as sobs begin to rack his body.

-18 years later-

“It’s great to see you, Em, how’ve you been?” Sway asks. Marshall nods, “I’ve been good, man. Literally just working and spending some time with the family.”

The broadcaster nods, “I saw that. I saw Hailey’s wedding pictures on Instagram, congratulations. How does it feel now to see your little girl get swept up?”

“It fucking sucks,” he jokes as the Shade 45 crew laughs along. “Like, I did it before with Laney, cool. Cool, it stung like a bitch, but cool. Then Hailey comes through with her man and their engagement and I’m just like, what the fuck?! I knew I was getting old but shit man.”

Sway nods, “that’ll do it. At first, you know you’re aging, but when accolades are being accomplished then that’s when it really hits you.” As everyone else nods in agreement, he turns the conversation to a more professional piece.

“So, you put out Houdini for your Coup de Grace and it landed at number 2 on the Billboard Hot 100. Congratulations on that as well since that is the highest you’ve charted in the decade. What are your plans for the remainder of the year? Cause I know you have The Death of Slim Shady comin’ around, but do you also plan to make any public appearances, tours, or do you just wanna put the music out and chill in bed?”

“Cause you already did a surprise popout at a Detroit Concert Event, will there be anymore?”

Marshall shrugs, “the bed option honestly doesn’t sound bad at all. It’s one that I’d prefer, but fucking Paulina won’t let me. Instead, I’ll be in Texas this October to headline the Formula 1 Grand Prix Concert.”

“Oh, shit, really? That’s dope man.” Sway nods, “now are you big on racing? I’ve heard that it can be a crazy ass sport.” He shrugs, “kind of. Not into it as much as football, but I do look in here and there.”

“And there’s a list of other artists performing there as well?” Marshall nods, “yeah. I know Sting was confirmed to perform, I think the first night or the third because I’ll be the second. I’m not too sure who’s performing the first.”

A member of the crew leans over, “I believe it was y/n. Let me double check.” It was silent for a moment. Anticipation clutching at his chest, he leans forward with an interested gaze.

His face void of emotion, waiting for a solidified answer. He couldn’t understand if he saw this as a good thing, an opportunity to rekindle things or more so a badly moment of truth he wasn’t prepared for.

“Yes, it was confirmed last night that she’ll headline the first night.”

Sway looks back his way, “are you familiar with y/n?” The rapper nods, “uh, yeah. Yeah, I am, actually.” He gulps.

Marshall wasn’t one to prepare for an interview as he always knew what to say to keep things personal and who to give his time to. However, nothing in the world could’ve prepared him for questions about a lost love.

“We, uh, dated back in ‘06 for some months, I believe.” Sway’s eyebrows raise, “really?”

The former rapper may be a journalist, but he was an artist first who respected Marshall and vice versa. He knew the man basked privacy and wanted to be sure that this was the route he wanted to take.

“Yeah, we did. Things didn’t end well since, ya know, I was dealing with drugs and Proof’s passing. There’s not a lot of things or people I remember from back then, but she. She stays on my mind, always has.”

Sway leans toward him, whispering, “are you sure?” He nods, mouth drying.

“My comeback album, Relapse, in the song Beautiful… I’ve made a few references to her. Made it my moment to say things I couldn’t say to her face. Space Bound, Love the Way You Lie, and So Bad from Recovery were some, too.”

“Do you ever think that, maybe you’d want to see her again? Or is something of the past?” The rapper sighs, “I would prefer to see her again. Make amends, ya know. I see her in the media kicking ass, winning awards. I’m proud of her.”

Sway sends him a reassuring smile, “well, your folks at Shade 45 hope you two can make shit happen, man.”

—

If it was 2006 all over again, she’d swoon and make flirtatious quips at him through the media until he felt confident enough to approach her first. Unfortunately, she wasn’t that little girl again.

She has a couple years until she turned 50, two kids, a divorce under her belt, and a legacy. She no longer had time or the patience to paw at old flames, she wasn’t her ex-husband, for God’s sake. And yet, her heart pumped as if she ran a marathon all because the man who broke her heart eighteen years ago still loved her.

To make matters worse, the only way she had to contact him was through fucking social media. Did the old fuck even know how to operate the shit?

Great, so not only will she have to text him, but now take the chance of him not knowing how to reply. She knew her inability to live in peace was a forever thing, but the shit life throws at her is getting kind of ridiculous right now.

Um, I see you’re talking about me on the radio?

She hits send, fingers twitching with anxiety. She wasn’t some technical guru, but she wasn’t so out of touch to not understand that people take time to reply to things. However, this wasn’t a moment that deserved good virtue, so for fuck’s sake that dingy Midwest motherfucker better answer now.

Was it true? All of it?

She sends another text when a bubble appears, floating happily as it registers whatever the bullshit Marshall plans to spew. After a few minutes, the bubble has made itself at home and she was ready to gank the man by his neck through the damn phone.

Goddamn old man, don’t tell me arthritis got you? Long ass paragraph…

Doesn’t that mean you have a ghostwriter? Oh, scandalous

Finally, his reply comes in.

Shut up. And yes, I meant everything I said. Sorry, if you were uncomfortable.

She sits, staring at the screen in silence. Her fingers move faster than her mind could process.

It took you five minutes to text me that. FIVE MINUTES!

Shut up and just say that you’ll have dinner with me, tonight?

I’m in Charleston.

I’ll fly you out then.

I’m not one of your little sluts

Of course not, you’re my favorite. I’ll fly you out, tonight. Don’t bring anything but a change of clothes.

That’s why your dick’s small.

Tagged: @evasmlp

Sorry, it’s a day late and that it sucks! I fell asleep last night after writing the first portion, but I hope you like it

[starry-eyes-love]

Let's Make a Memory

Main Masterlist

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader, AU, One Shot

Summary | Joel takes you out to dinner for the first time and you wind up having sex in their bathroom.

18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: smut, vibrator use, sex in a public bathroom, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), language, cute and fluffy moments, a touch of d/s lifestyle.

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N:  I don't know where the heck this one came from, but I’m back out of my fanfic writing funk of no inspiration. Sorry guys, I got so burnt out with writing that I needed to take a huge break and was doing some other things for a while. This story is a little different from my other stories that I’ve written, but let’s just say I (being the writer/artist) had a muse that inspired me so we ran with it. I will slowly release other fanfic writings over time. I have no timetable for when fanfic stuff will be out.  I just want to enjoy writing again and not feel pressured. As always…enjoy :)

His hand immediately went around her neck as he pulled her back into him. His other hand went under her dress and touched her where she needed him the most. He growled in her ear, "You're mine; now come for me." She exploded for him when he said those words, which she always craved to hear.

Joel sat and ate slowly at dinner, laughing and discussing life with the beautiful woman before him. She was divine, a gorgeous woman, not just on the outside but what was found on the inside.  In the middle of all their laughter, she felt the buzz and the vibration's hum deep inside her. He never once flinched or gave anything away. He controlled the remote, the ability to start it and stop it, her pleasure he owned.

"You were saying?" He said, looking at her straight in her eyes. The challenge for her was to keep talking like nothing was happening. A test of strength, at the ability to follow the command he gave her. "Control your mind, and you'll receive my pleasure."

So she calmed her mind as she squeezed her thighs together, fighting the orgasm that she knew was coming. And as she fought it back, she burned with a fire deeper than anything, trying to remain composed through it all. She wanted him to stop this torture and to give her what she wanted: him.

For 45 minutes, this continued, and she didn't remember anything he had said. "Please," she whispered, almost begging him. To continue, to stop, to let her come, to fuck her hard. She wanted all of it and none of it at the same time. The sweet torture of the tease and the hold off of the release. A game she came to love and hate all together with him.

"Please, what?" He whispered, turning up the intensity again, knowing she was seconds away from release.

"Please, I, I—" she begged, and the vibration stopped before she tipped over.

"Shit," she growled, low and only for her ears. But he heard, and now the wolf was smiling, knowing he would soon devour his prey.

"What was that?" He asked, "Do you have something you wish to say? Something you wish to ask me?" It was a reminder of who played the game better.

"No, Sir. I- may I please excuse myself to the bathroom for a moment? I have to pee."

As he sat back in his chair, he looked at her intently. He knew it was a lie; he knew she was wet for him and wanted him.

Finally, after a moment, he motioned to the bathrooms, saying low, "You may, but don't you dare touch."

A silent nod she gave and whispered "thank you" as she stood.

She was almost to the bathroom door when she felt the vibration rise. She quickly gripped the door, opened the bathroom, walked in, and put her hands on the side of the counter. She was breathing hard and fighting the orgasm that was coming. She completely forgot to lock the door in her fight for composure; she didn't hear Joel Miller, the man who was giving her this sweet torture, enter.

His hand immediately went around her neck as he pulled her back into him. His other hand went under her dress and touched her where she needed him the most. He growled in her ear, "You're mine; now come for me." She exploded for him when he said those words, which she always craved to hear. 

He quickly turned her around and slammed his lips onto her mouth, drinking up all her cries of pleasure as he lifted her on the counter and shoved himself in.

"Fuck me," she moaned, trying to grind up against him, seeking the friction that she desperately needed.

"Patience, my love," he said, voice low and with his own primal need.

He was struggling to keep his head about him, not wanting to give over to the pleasure he was feeling. After all, he was still a man, and the harder she clenched down around his cock, the harder it was not to give in to his sexual urges and empty himself into her right then and there.  But Joel prided himself of being a man that never lost his control. 

“Fuck me,” he commanded, urging her forward with his words.  When she didn’t respond, he got right in her face and whispered in a commanding voice, “I said, fuck me.”

And she did; she found herself giving herself over to him completely.  Meeting him thrust for thrust while sitting on the bathroom countertop, one leg pinned up and away from her body by him and the other around his waist.  They were like two dogs in heat, rutting hard into each other and trying to sate the urge of being separated for as long as they have been: a lifetime, her lifetime.

“Baby, harder, please,” she begged. Those statements were like the liquid gasoline to their already raging inferno.  Every moment from the time she first talked with him, she had envisioned their first moment together.  She never imagined it to be here, in a restaurant full of people, but she didn’t care.  She was finally answering the hunger deep inside her, which had driven her mad for a long time, and he knew it.  That was the problem in their relationship; he knew every hidden desire she had without her ever opening her mouth.  Some say it is pure luck; others find it a curse.  But to her, it was like the most beautiful symphony ever played; he was her muse for once.  

In the creative artist’s world, a muse is a source that inspires an artist.  Though he never showed it, except for glimpses of it occasionally.  She thought he stopped seeing and loving her at one point, but that was just the mask.  The mask so she couldn’t see what she was doing to him inside, how much she was changing his soul as he changed her for the better.  Artist and muse.  It happens only once in a blue moon, something as fierce as this. For an older man named Joel Miller, this was the perfect recipe he needed—someone younger than him yet could still breathe life back into his soul.

A long time ago, Joel thought the world had turned its back on him.  Tommy had found happiness, his brother, after Joel had lost his child and wife, two people he had forever cherished.  Sarah, his daughter, died far too soon in life, and his wife left him because of many reasons.  She never said, but he knew.  Joel’s most significant problem in life was communication sometimes. He struggled to tell the person he was with how much he appreciated them and how much they mattered.  He said it through other means, telling them to drive safely, eat, and be careful.  Those phrases mean nothing to most people, but to Joel, they meant “I love you.”  You see, sometimes Life happens, and people struggle to express how much they care about someone.  How deeply they do.  And that was Joel’s problem before he met her.  Even now, as he takes what is his, what she has given up to him, he still struggles to communicate how much he cares and wants her forever in his life. But she knows.

You see, this woman he has pinned to the countertop and is thrusting hard inside of sees his soul for what it is.  Someone who felt like most of his life he didn’t deserve love, so she decided to give him the one thing that she knew he’d never ask for: love.  Yes, they sometimes disagree and have had moments where she hurt him with words.  But he meant more to her than what she’d ever say.  So maybe they both had a problem communicating that to the other. Or maybe right here in this moment of Joel pining her up against the counter, she could show him, just like she did every second of every day, with comments of “Hello cutie” and “You know you’re cute, just a little bit.” Her favorite was asking him how his day was. All those sayings said the same thing: she cared about him and his happiness.  All she ever wanted was for him to find peace and joy in life, no matter what.  That’s why this was different; they both felt that way but never said it out loud. 

“Joel, shit, I’m gonna-”

“Come for me, baby, show me.”

As she finally tipped over the edge for the first time with him like this, she felt the Earth shift on its axis, and her soul left her body and attached itself to another human in outer space. Joel soon followed behind her. When it was all over, and they were both spent, panting into each other’s ears as he held her, she understood that Joel knew what he was doing. He knew exactly what she would experience.  He made her wait to ensure she was ready for this experience.  The orgasm comes from the soul, not the body, and that’s what he wanted her to feel, their souls merging as one. 

Joel didn’t want meaningless sex; he’d had a lifetime of that when he was married.  He wanted a genuine connection, one out of this world, one where two people felt it together. There was no going back from this moment, and Joel knew it.  So, with a slight smile, he cleaned her up and helped her down.  Standing up on wobbly legs, she said in a sassy tone, “Wipe that smirk off your face, old man; my legs are wobbly because I was sitting on the counter, not because of what you did.”

With a deep laugh, Joel shook his head and said, “Okay, whatever ya gotta tell yourself, sweetheart.”  But he knew, just like she did too.  

With a tender kiss to her lips, she smiled and said as she opened the door, “I’m still ordering dessert with a ton of sprinkles on it.”  Joel gave a huge belly laugh as he exited the bathroom with her and took her hand into his.  

Sprinkles—the sweet treat on top of the best dessert—was a private joke they had together. Sex was the sprinkles on top of the dessert, the dessert being Life's journey together. You still had to create the dessert together, which he has always focused on—making the best foundation to enjoy those sprinkles. 

As they sat back down and ordered dessert, both had something with sprinkles on it.  As they ate, they silently chuckled and smiled at each other, at the memory they just created together.  Getting to this moment felt like a lifetime, but it was the best wait possible, and they both wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

[lightsresonance]

I just watched both parkour civilization movies and I have so many thoughts about block game

Parkour civilization was restructured so that everyone begins at the bottom layer and makes their way to the top. The other main changes are that the route to the top is neither impossible nor barricaded by design. Failing a jump isn’t an instant ticket to perma death. There’s a universal safety net for so players can keep trying. 

But providing actual ways for the lower levels to advance, does not change the fact THAT THERE WAS A LOWER LEVEL WITH UNACCEPTABLE QUALITY OF LIFE IN THE FIRST PLACE WHAT OTHER CHANGES WERE MADE TO THE BOTTOM??? Are the noobs still kept on the verge of starvation?? Is food now free or do you still jump to eat?? Who farms food now that the pros don’t have to work?? Blocks are free for masters what about noobs & pros? And even if anyone at the base layer can make open attempts at the climb, are they provided the practice arenas of the higher levels??

Evbo’s ‘equal opportunity advancement’ solution also doesn’t address the other glaring problem of why parkour civilization was inherently flawed. Some people just suck at parkour! It’s simply not for them and their talents lie in other directions. But being a promising singer, builder, fighter, redstone engineer, or writer doesn’t matter because parkour is the ONLY valuable skill. You don’t like to jump but there’s only one route up. You could be at the bottom forever because your passion is worthless in Parkour Civilization. 

Evbo fails to dismantle anything besides the most obvious, corrupt flaws of the system because at the end of the day, he still successfully climbed said system! (With some cheating & help to bypass the locks ofc). So his idea of fairness is having everyone else climb too. But providing people access to his way up doesn’t change the fact they have only 1 way to climb. And that they have to climb in the first place.

See, the other thing that haunts me is the implanted memories. Evbo KNOWS there’s a lifestyle outside of parkour 24/7. Evbo remembers endless land, buildings, crafting, and mining. Resources gatekept by parkour once used to be open to obtain by anyone. Sure, the memories are fake but the dream didn’t have to be. He was champion then god. Evbo knows about the endless ground but didn’t consider making that idea a reality even with endless power at his fingertips. Because he’s so entrenched in this society. 

His dream was seeing endless skies and once he got there, he failed to share it with anyone else.

The sky used to be free.

TLDR Shonen protag works within in system they’re given and when system shows its flaws of corruption the narrative solution is to power up, beat up the big villains, and become the most op kid on the block instead of actually addressing societal flaws that accommodates and creates said villains

In this fanfic I will-

[physalian]

In Defense of Fanfiction (Or the perfect starting point for your original novel)

Fanfic gets a bad rap pretty much everywhere except Tumblr. It’s misunderstood and misrepresented by its average works, seen as juvenile and cringey, or a banal point of contention between a famous person or piece of media and its fans.

Outside of fanfic that writes about real people, especially smut fics of real people, I support the art wholeheartedly. Fictional characters are one thing, but personally, caricaturing a celebrity’s life for public consumption and writing or drawing them in compromising content without their consent is a little weird. You do you. Don’t like, don’t read, as they say.

Fanfic is the perfect starting point for a few reasons:

It places you in a creative box and forces you to work within those constraints

It does all the worldbuilding and character concepts for you

It lets you write way outside your comfort zone

When published and receiving feedback, it boosts your self-confidence

It's incredibly flexible

It’s practice. All practice is good practice

—

Behold your creative box

When I was little I had no idea the majority of fanfic was shipping fics. I always pictured and looked for canon-divergent alternate universes. Like, what if X happened in this episode instead of Y? What if this character never died?

Fanfic demands you work within someone else’s canon, whether it���s an OC in the canonical world, or the canonical characters in an AU. These are like little bowling bumpers saving you from the gutter, but also keeping you on a straight-ish path toward the pins.

The indecisiveness of too many choices can be too intimidating when you’re first starting out. You want to be a writer but you have no idea where to begin, what genre to pick, what characters you want to chronicle, what themes you want to explore.

Even if it sits on your computer never to see the light of day, you still got those creative juices flowing.

Pre-packaged worldbuilding

Sometimes all we want is to get to the good stuff. Maybe I want to write a story about elemental magicians but Last Airbender already exists and I just want to play in a pre-existing sandbox. So I write some OCs into that world and have a free-for-all.

I don’t have to come up with my own lore, world history, magic system rules and mechanics, politics, geography—any of it. I get to just focus on the characters.

Even if you’re writing an AU, like say a coffee shop AU, you don’t have to think about brand new characters, you can just think “What would M do?” and go from there. The trade-off is your readers will expect canonical characters to behave in-character, but I think it’s worth it.

Stretch beyond your comfort zone!

Do you hate writing action scenes? Go practice with a shonen anime fic. Need work on dialogue? Write some high-fantasy fic, or a courtroom drama. Practice a fistfight by watching fistfights and writing what you see, and do it over and over again until what you read makes you feel like you're watching what’s on screen.

But beyond that—practice genres that you aren’t super familiar with. If you’re new to fantasy, write fantasy fic. Or a mystery novel/show, thriller, comedy, satire, adventure, what have you. The nature of fanfic still gives you those “guardrails” and you can get some brutally honest feedback on how you’re doing.

And, of course, the realm of M-rated romance and smut fics. I haven’t because I think I would die of embarrassment if I tried and I never intend to include sex scenes in my works anyway, but if you do want to, use the internet as your test audience. Post it on a throwaway account if you’re nervous.

Build that self-confidence!

The fandoms I used to write for are super dead, so it’s insane how I still get email notifications that so-and-so liked my fic to this day. Comments are as elusive as ever, but random strangers on the internet telling me they liked my work is a magical reassurance that my writing isn’t actually awful.

Random strangers on the internet are, as we all know, beholden to no moral obligation to be kind to your little avatar face, or be kind to be polite. So a rando taking the time to like my work or even leave a positive comment can feel more honest than one of my friends telling me what they think I want to hear.

I tend to avoid the more present aspects of fandom like online communities, forums, social media, what have you, so I get a delayed and diluted aspect of any given fandom through completed works. Which means, in general, I get to avoid the worst and most toxic aspects of fandom and get to sift through positive feedback and critique.

Even if your fanfic isn’t written with stellar prose, it’s fanfic. We don’t expect Pulitzer-prize winning content. And if your work isn’t up to snuff, people are more likely to just ignore it than put you on blast (at least in my experience, I never got a bad comment or a “flame” in the old FFN days).

Fanfic doesn’t care about the rules of published literature

On the one hand, try not to practice bad habits, but with this point I mean that your layout, punctuation, formatting, paragraph styles, chapter length–all of it is beholden to no rules. I get as annoyed as the next reader with giant blocks of paragraphs, or the double-spacing between pages of single-sentence paragraphs, but if the story’s good enough I might ignore it.

There’s more than just straight narrative fics, though. People write “chat” fics, or long streams of text and group chat conversations. The scene breaks can come super rapidly–I’ve seen fics with a single sentence in between line breaks to show the passage of time. And without the polish of a traditionally published novel, I’ve never seen a purer distillation of author voice in any medium more than fanfic.

All practice is good practice

Even if it’s crack fiction, or a one-off one-shot, or something meant to be lighthearted and straightforward and free from complex worldbuilding and intricate plots. It really helps break writer’s block when you can shift gears and headspaces entirely and you can get relatively instant feedback to keep you motivated.

Beyond that, the “guardrails” help you stay consistent as far as character growth and personality if you struggle with designing rich characters.

The most recent fanfic I wrote was just a couple years ago, for a dead fandom I didn’t think would get any traffic whatsoever. It wasn’t my original works, but the feedback on that fic gave me the kick in the butt I needed to get back into writing more seriously.

—

In short, I support fanfic. I may not be proud of my earliest fics' prose now, but I am proud that they walked so I can now run.

[candycandy00]

Character: Sukuna

AU setting: Church

spice level: NSFW

Mood: writers choice

Kinks: Non-Con(however would it be alright if it's consensual non con?), daddy kink, breeding, spanking, Size difference and Praise

(Could it be Fem reader? Thx !! :))

Father Sukuna’s Discipline - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic

I might have added a couple kinks and took some liberties with the CNC kink but I hope you like it! 

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Sukuna as a Priest. Probably very offensive to Catholics (I know nothing about Catholicism so please look over any errors). Breeding. Spanking. Sort of CNC. Dubcon. Daddy kink (he’s a priest so Father is used instead of Daddy), light bondage. Size difference. Rough sex. Praise. Dividers by @benkeibear. 

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback whatsoever would be adored!

You stand in the drafty hallway outside Father Sukuna’s office, shifting from one foot to the other. He’s angry with you. He definitely saw that you were late for morning prayers, and he happened to be walking by when you flubbed reading the study verses to your students. As a new nun working in this Catholic school, you should be providing a strong example for the students to follow. Instead, they giggle when you try to scold them. 

Father Sukuna, the headmaster, has had to discipline you several times now for your careless behavior and mistakes. You appreciate that he’s taking the time to give you such personal attention, but his punishments can be… severe. 

And so you take a deep breath before knocking lightly on his door. He calls for you to come in, so you twist the brass doorknob and push the heavy wooden door open, then step inside. 

The room is large, with high ceilings and tall windows along the back wall. The air is chilly, despite the low fire burning in the fireplace. You flinch when the door slides closed behind you, feeling like you’ve been sealed in.

There’s a large wooden desk in the center of the room, and behind it sits Father Sukuna, looking at you over the top of his reading glasses and closing the Bible in his lap before placing it on the desk. 

“Do you know why I asked you to come?” 

His voice is deep and smooth. His black priest robes do little to conceal his muscular form. As he pulls off his glasses, his unusual red eyes seem to shimmer. His handsome face is lined with black tattoos, remnants of his former life before joining the priesthood. 

You fidget beneath his piercing gaze, thinking, far from the first time, that it’s a waste for someone like him to be a priest. Sensuality seems to ooze from every pore on his body. Every little move he makes, every word he utters with that voice, makes you think impure thoughts. 

“I was late this morning,” you say, looking at the floor. 

“And?” he prompts. 

“And I messed up my reading of scripture.”

“Twice,” he adds. 

You nod pathetically. “Yes, twice.”  You raise your head then, meeting his eyes. “I beg your forgiveness, Father! I’ve only been a nun for six months now. I’m having a hard time adjusting.”

He stands up from his leather chair and walks around the desk to stand in front of you. This close, you’re very aware of how tall and big he is, how he towers over you, how he could throw you around like a rag doll if he wished. You can smell his cologne, a deep musky scent with contrasting cherry blossom undertones. 

“It seems that you need more discipline, Sister. Did you come prepared?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your face burning with shame as you reach your trembling hands down and grip your robe. Hesitantly, eyes on the floor to avoid his face, you slowly pull the fabric up to your waist. 

Just as he instructed, you’re wearing no panties, only black silk thigh high stockings. Even with your soft thighs pressed together, he can definitely see your bare pussy, shaved the way he demanded. 

“Ah, so you can follow instructions after all,” he says, and you glance up at his face to find him grinning widely. It’s an expression wholly unbecoming of a priest. 

You watch as he steps back to his desk and uses one arm to knock everything off it with a single swipe. Then he pats the desk and says, “Climb on, and get in position for your punishment.”

You drop your robe and move over to his desk. He lifts you up and sits you on it, then you nervously maneuver yourself to be on your hands and knees. Your limbs are shaky as he walks around behind you and jerks your robe up again, letting it bunch up at your waist, leaving your lower half bare. One of his large hands sets upon your naked ass, then rubs down it, tracing your shape. 

“As for what we discussed earlier… are you still certain?” he asks. 

“Y-yes,” you say. 

Two days ago, Father Sukuna proposed giving you “special discipline” to help you improve as a nun and turn away from your careless, sinful behavior. He said it would be intense, possibly painful and embarrassing, and that you would have to consent to allowing him full access to your body, using it however he sees fit. He gave you those two days to think about it. Today, you gave him your answer. 

Now, with his eyes roaming over your exposed flesh and his warm hand squeezing the fat of your ass cheek, you don’t regret your choice, even if it’s humiliating. Because you truly do want to be the best nun you can be, and… being touched by a man like him, so tall and so intimidating, with those wild tattoos, makes your body quiver with excitement. So many nights you’ve laid in your bed, shamefully touching yourself while thinking of him. 

He gave you a word, what he called a “safe word”, for you to say if you decide you can no longer handle the discipline and want to stop. Otherwise, he said, he would continue no matter what you say. The very thought of being completely at his mercy both frightens and thrills you. 

Stepping around to the front of you, Father Sukuna pulls your rosary from your neck and winds it tightly around your wrists, binding them together and forcing you to lean more on your elbows than your hands. This makes your position slightly more unstable, and leaves your ass elevated higher than the rest of you. 

He moves out of sight for a moment, and returns holding something in his hands. It’s a large wooden paddle with several holes drilled into it. Your eyes widen as you stare at the threatening object. 

“Years ago, before I became Headmaster, this paddle was used to punish misbehaving students. We don’t do that anymore, but we keep the paddle around. Sometimes it’s effective to just have it lying on the desk when talking to an unruly student.”

He slaps the paddle into his open palm, resulting in a loud thwacking sound that makes you jump. “The holes supposedly make it sting more,” he tells you, that unnerving grin spreading across his face again. 

Moving to your side, he holds the paddle up, looking down at your glassy, wide eyes, then he swings it downward, smacking the harsh wood against your trembling, vulnerable ass. You cry out in pain, feeling the burn of the holes, instinctively trying to scoot away. 

Father Sukuna uses his free hand to firmly grip your shoulder, holding you in place, before bringing the paddle down again. This time the sting is enough to bring tears to your eyes and a scream from your throat. 

But he remains merciless. 

Thwack!

Thwack!

Thwack!

Three more hits, each one hard enough to make your body jump from the desk. Your ass burns. It has to be totally raw by now. 

“Father, please! Forgive me!” you weep, your knees nearly collapsing, your face now buried in your forearms, your hands clutching the rosary that has them bound together. 

Father Sukuna pauses and sits the paddle on the desk beside you. He uses his now empty hand to grip your sore cheek, kneading it, making you whimper. 

“Spread your legs wider,” he commands, and you struggle to comply, scooting your shaking knees further apart. He leans over to look, making you flush with heat and embarrassment. “Such a sinful body,” he says. “You’re absolutely dripping.”

“I’m so sorry, Father!” you cry, desperate to close your thighs and hide your shame, but knowing better than to anger him. 

You feel his hand slide down, and then his fingers dip into your wet folds. You shudder, fighting the urge to try to pull away. He laughs as his fingers brush over your clit, making you twitch. “Such a fuckable little cunt,” he says, and you glance back at him over your shoulder, shocked by his words. 

“Father?” you ask, trying to ignore the feeling of his fingers stroking you. 

“Hmm? Do my words concern you, Sister? I find that hard to believe when this soaked pussy is practically begging to be fucked. Do you want that? Do you want to be fucked by my huge cock?”

“I… I don’t…”

He suddenly withdraws his hand, picking up the paddle again in one smooth motion and then slamming it back down on your raw, stinging ass. This time it hits so low that it connected with your pussy. You squeal and jerk, and Father Sukuna holds the paddle up to his face. “You’ve gotten it all sticky,” he says. 

After sitting the paddle back down, he reaches down with both strong hands and effortlessly flips you over onto your back. He grabs your bound wrists by the rosary and jerks your arms above your head, then forces your legs even wider apart. He pulls your whole body down toward the end of the desk, making your robe ride up even further, nearly exposing your chest. 

He uses one hand to pull up his own robe and open the black pants underneath. “I fucked countless women before becoming a priest,” he says, his voice deeper than usual. “I thought I got it all out of my system. But fuck it, I’m still a man. So I’m gonna ruin this cute little pussy of yours.”

His tone of voice, his manner of speech, they seem different, rougher. “F-father, please,” you beg, “be gentle with me!”

He pulls a massive cock from his pants and lines it up with your entrance. “Not a fuckin’ chance!” he says, then immediately shoves himself all the way in. 

You gasp as you feel yourself being completely stuffed, his hands firm on your waist, keeping you steady as he pounds into you. “Please forgive me, Father!” you sob out. 

“Huh? Forgive you for what?” he asks, that maniacal grin on his face. 

“F-for being so sinful!” 

He laughs before he leans down and extends his tongue, licking a stripe up your crying face. “No need to apologize. Your tight pussy feels fucking incredible! This sinful body of yours is a blessing!”

You feel dazed, out of your mind, as his cock repeatedly slams into you. You have no idea what’s right or wrong anymore. You gaze up at him through teary eyes. “Is… is this part of the discipline? To make me a better nun?”

He reaches one hand down to stroke your clit, making your hips buck off the desk. “Yeah, I’m making you a better nun!” he grunts. “I’m making you my personal little slutty nun!”

You can’t take anymore. Your mind and heart are so confused. Only your body seems to understand Father Sukuna’s discipline. So you let go, you let yourself fall over the edge, and you scream out his name as you cum around his cock, clenching him with everything you have. 

His grin only gets wider, his red eyes gleaming, as he fucks you even harder. And when you finally feel him pulsing inside you, followed by a gush of his hot sticky cum filling you up, you lose all strength, going limp on the desk beneath him. 

Once he’s bottomed out, he pulls back and looks down at you. “Good girl, taking my cock so deep. I’ll forgive your mistakes this time,” he says as he buttons his pants and pulls his robe back down. His voice is returning to his more formal tone. “But if you don’t show more grace as an employee of this school, I will have to discipline you again.”

He reaches down and unties your hands, then gives your rosary back to you, leaving you speechless and stunned. You quickly recover and scoot off the desk, jerking your robe back down to hide the cum dripping down your thighs. 

“Thank you, Father,” you say with a quivering voice as you hurry out of the room. 

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

i for once want to get the opinion of a "rational" jikooker who knows how to take a step back and take certain things for what they are and i wanna know your opinion or interpretation of jikook in chap2 and them not meeting and also that conversation they had in the car about that please.

And you thought I'm that rational person? Funny.

You know, there's something I always disliked about being in this fandom space. I mean, there's plenty of other things, don't get me wrong, but this one in particular really irks me. It's the need for approval, for confirmation of one's thoughts. There's a severe lack of independent thought. It might be hidden under apparent strong opinions, but when you look at how those opinions are spread to anon messaging to bloggers everyday, that's a sign that the complete opposite happens.

Jikook as a kpop ship always has to be questioned. At this point, I think it's part of its narrative as a ship. But what's curious (and stupid) is that the hardest line of questioning comes from the ones who consider themselves interested/curious. But make no mistake, this is not done for the sake of not becoming delusional and discard any rational thought. It happens because of the need for approval.

You sent me this ask because you hope for me to agree with your own thoughts about jikook and what that conversation in the car means. Not for them actually, but for you. And you're not the only person. A sure sign of fandom insanity is debating for over 2 weeks now a conversation that is not only heavily editated, it is mediated as well. It takes place in the context of a show for fans in which participants are two people who will never reveal everything about their lives. And on top of that, there's an intentional need to ignore that people can speak in hyperbole, that people can ommit or say one thing that actually means more or another that only the other person is capable of understanding the nuances of that.

Communication is complex. We do know that because we engage with it everyday. Except we forget all that the moment we have to talk about this specific ship. We forget a lot of things about human behavior, relationships, etc. It is an intentional act. So we start writing fanfictions. We start making relationship timelines. We start taking about temporary or definitive break ups of a ship that hasn't even been confirmed as a couple. At this point, shippers operate into this alternative universe sphere, canon adjacent but instead of doing it on ao3, they use their blogs and anon messages for that. But hey, fanfics on ao3 are a lot of the times the work of talented writers, while 500-1000 words essays on tumblr are simply a complete waste of time after the first paragraph.

Is this what you would consider a rational perspective? Or should I start writing down a timeline of all the times in which JM and JK have met in "Chapter 2" up until NY in July? (As if in reality their lives are actually separated that clearly, as if a break in band work completely defines their personal lives, jesus christ!). So, should I note down all the public events that they've been to? And to draw a conclusion from it to prove or disprove that the amount of times they've seen each other is reflective or not of what they said in the car when they left for their trip? Of course, we should ignore that there's an entire life outside of what we see.

And that's the thing, you know? We all supposedly agree that they actually share little of their lives with their fans, but practically? The fandom doesn't really give a shit. Because of the classic parasocial relationship we have developed that makes us believe we know everything there is to know.

What we are allowed to see and what we hear from whispers here and there should allow us to realize that no theory over a supposed relationship is better than the other. Believing they are just friends, that they have broken up, that they are fwb and so on is in no way more rational that believing they are together.

What does this mean? If none of us are wiser? It means we have a choice. Some are choosing to be losers or little bitches crying in anon asks about their "insecurities" over a ship. Some are choosing to look at this ship as a duo that includes two people who have really good chemistry and who match each other's freak.

I've always been in the latter category, I thought that was obvious and I've said it before. If one day Jimin makes a public statement that he's marrying the love of his life, a sweet girl that is also the mother of his 5 secret children, then so be it. And if one day, Jungkook shows up one day after he decided to run away and join a bike gang where he met his boyfriend, then so be it. If somehow that next day, a jikook clip would turn up on my tl in which Jimin is brushing his teeth while straddling Jungkook, my reaction would be "well, jikook fuck. Often". You know why? Because for me, the public life of stars and what they choose to share is entertainment. A travel show, a wlive, concerts, these are all forms of entertainment. I do not consume my entertainment by being a loser on the internet, pondering if my assessment over two people might be fucking is real or not or is approved by other people.

[ksmutsociety]

The Velvet Vault

Step away from the ordinary and uncover a world of shadowed libraries, where the scent of aged paper mingles with the musings of forgotten philosophers, and candlelit rooms echo with the whispers of timeless secrets and melancholic prose. Toast our one-year milestone by joining this event that promises to immerse you in the ultimate dark academia experience.

↳ A dark academia themed network event hosted by K Smut Society

Participant Requirements:

Open to all 21+ Kpop Fanfic Writers

Follow @ksmutsociety

Like & Reblog this event post

Participants must have a discord account to join the project server

Join Here

Submissions must meet the following requirements:

Adhere to our Society Rules.

Include at least one smut scene.

Provide a mini-playlist of at least 5 songs related to your fic.

Fic must be a minimum of 2,000 words.

Include at least one adult male kpop artist in the main pairing.

Draw inspiration from Dark Academia.

Feature a main character with one of the specified careers listed below.

Dark Academia Career List:

Librarian

Historian

Archivist

Collector

Antiquarian

Art Conservator

Museum Curator

Author

Editor

Researcher

Professor

Philosopher 

Linguist

Preservationist

Paleontologist

Dark Academia References:

Here are some common aesthetics, themes, and vibes within Dark Academia to consider when plotting your fic!

Intellectual Pursuits: A deep fascination with classical literature, philosophy, history, and the arts. Characters often engage in rigorous academic study and debate.

Gothic Aesthetics: An appreciation for the gothic style, including old, grand libraries, ivy-clad buildings, and dark, moody settings. The visual elements often evoke a sense of timelessness and melancholy.

Existential Reflection: Themes of existentialism and the search for meaning in life are prevalent. Characters might grapple with questions of mortality, identity, and the nature of existence.

Isolation and Loneliness: The protagonist often experiences feelings of isolation, whether physical or emotional, which can be amplified by their intense intellectual focus or by their outsider status.

Romanticism: A romanticized view of suffering and melancholy. Characters might be drawn to tragic or doomed love affairs, or find beauty in the somber and melancholic aspects of life.

Dark Secrets: Mysterious or sinister elements, such as hidden knowledge, academic rivalries, or tragic events. The pursuit of knowledge might lead to uncovering dark truths.

Academic Rivalry: Competitive or contentious relationships among scholars or students, often with intense intellectual debates or conflicts.

Classic Literature and Art: Frequent references to or influence from classic works of literature, art, and philosophy, often with a focus on the works of authors like Oscar Wilde, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and others from the late 19th to early 20th centuries.

Historical Settings: A penchant for settings that are old-world or historical, such as prestigious universities, old libraries, and grand estates, which contribute to the genre's timeless feel.

Aesthetic Rituals: The importance of rituals, traditions, and customs in the academic environment, often including late-night study sessions, formal gatherings, and other intellectual practices.

Schedule: 

September 2nd: Event begins

October 13th: Halfway point & last day to join

November 17th to 23rd: Posting period

November 24th: Project masterlist shared

KSS is thrilled to invite you to our first network event! We look forward to see the amazing ideas you come up with. Please reach out via our ask box if you have any questions.

[orphiclovers]

I think the most notable bit of character insight on Yoo Joonghyuk that Yoo Mia SS provides is how much the apocalypse did not change him at all.

It's one of those Big Themes orv has, and simply brilliant writing. Y'know how they kept beating us over the head with the concept of 'the people who find it easiest to adapt in a ruined world are those who could not adapt to real life?'. That applies to YJH too, and even more than other characters. But it's hard to notice on a casual main story read because genre conventions and his character archetype tell us not to look deeper, that he is just a basic brooding power fantasy manhwa protagonist, even when he's really not.

So the audience writes off his quirks because it's expected of his brooding hero archetype and the other apocalypse survivors write off his quirks because everyone who has gotten this far is a little nuts and also they have bigger problems.

But when Yoo Joonghyuk acts exactly like he does during the apocalypse in a pre-scenario world where there's no convienient explanation it's really clear that he is different and he just comes off as...off.

His silence during conversations is no longer mysterious and cool but just weird and a failure to read social cues. His 'glare' is frightening and people don't like when he makes eye contact with them. His manner of speech is off-putting. His blank emotionless face is not stoic repressed hero-esque but ""rude"" etc etc. Every single mainstream society conforming person can tell there's something off about him so they avoid him. And YJH doesn't know how to communicate so he ends up totally friendless (save for a literal mafia boss and a crazy time-traveling teenage girl - and only them, because they don't fit well into society either.)

Umm where was I. So, but I don't know how much effect all of that has on World of Zero. Firstly, because between Yoo Mia side story and World of Zero there are 3-4 years of '?????' where afaik we have no idea what Yoo Joonghyuk was doing. He stopped being a gamer at some point but also got rich at the same time (doing what?) and bought the house he daydreamed about and also became a total shut-in who 'doesn't go outside often'. I have fanfic-y theories but nothing canon.

Onto the second part of the ask.

With World of Zero era joongdok I feel like there's a lot of writers out there who have made their own versions that are better than anything I could come up with so I hope you wont be disapointed. That being said I do have some thoughts.

Speaking of fanfic, here is mine under read more lol.

I think it's super that Kim Dokja gains the power of an omnipotent god and the very first thing he does is devote his time to Yoo Joonghyuk's happiness and safety. The whole reason he became OD was because of his massive guilt complex about YJH, so it makes sense that he would try to atone.

Zero starts off mistrusting him but gradually KDJ proves himself as having Zero's best interests at heart 100% of the time. DKOS is YJH's guardian angel. And then KDJ stays watching over him even after the scenarios were over, seeing him go through boring life milestones, happy as long as YJH is happy, for seemingly no reason.

So it's no wonder Yoo Jooghyuk fell in love.

He might not know Salvation's real name or appearance or anything about him but he wants to get to know him, this person who has saved him so many times while asking nothing in return. It doesn't matter that he's a constellation because he is good, Yoo Joonghyuk knows. He confesses all of this to Salvation, looking up at the sky with eyes sparkling with life and passion.

Salvation lets him down gently, for what it's worth, but rejection is still rejection and it hurts.

In the following weeks, as he goes through the motions and pretends nothing happened, he continues to feel the gaze of Salvation on his back, but the constellation stays mercifully silent. Yoo Joonghyuk does not want to know if it's pity he's looking at him with. Even heartbreak heals, of course. Months pass, then years. Lee Seolhwa was a dependable companion to him during the scenarios and stays a steadying presence in the world after. They're compatable. She is someone with who he could see himself growing old.

Salvation told him to 'be free, to fall in love with someone who could be with him, to not waste his time chasing after a dream, to live his life to the fullest'

He knows about his attribute of course, just like he knows everything about Yoo Joonghyuk.

Yoo Joonghyuk sees no point in lying. He tells Lee Seolhwa everything. How due to his attribute he will grown old and die while the rest of them stay youthful as ever, how he doesn't remember his childhood or know his parents. His hopes and dreams, how he yearns to learn his origins. About the first scenario, about the constellation who would have been his sponsor, whom he loves.

Then he asks to marry her. She says yes.

Salvation is the first person Yoo Joonghyuk tells. He's happy for him, of course, says he always knew there was a spark between them.

They live a long 50 years together.

When Yoo Joonghyuk's hair started turning more salt than pepper, he told Lee Seolhwa that he wouldn't hold her. She laughed, stroked his head and said that she might not look it but she is two years older than him, that she vowed to be by his side till death did them apart and she will not break that promise.

When his time comes and he knows he has to leave, he tries to explain himself to Lee Seolhwa at least, if not the rest of his old companions. But he needn't have bothered. Before he could start, she took his hands in hers and smiled wistfully. She told him she always knew this day would come. That his heart has always belonged to someone else. She's thankful for the time he has given her anyway and that she could not have asked for a better husband. She sheads a few tears and Yoo Joonghyuk does too, but he leaves their house with a sense of purpose and a lightness in his heart he has not felt once since the day he beat the final scenario.

And then he accepts the sponsorship contract with Salvation.

... .. Sooo, that's how I think round zero went.

[mariacallous]

I LOVED this article. Leslie Gray Streeter expresses it perfectly.

https://www.thebaltimorebanner.com/opinion/column/kamala-harris-no-press-interviews-OPD4MAXYKRB4XJHB2TFB6ZJX6Q/

Since becoming the presumptive Democratic candidate for president, Vice President Kamala Harris has done myriad public appearances and given speeches but has not, as of this writing, talked to journalists outside a brief session on the tarmac before a flight.

I’m a journalist and have been for more than half my life. And you know what? I don’t blame her one bit.

Because of her refusal to sit for an interview with any print or broadcast media, Harris has been the target of a lot of indignant insistence that she change her mind — that she’s not giving the American public answers they deserve. Critics say she’s subverting an expected system that all other elected officials have gone through. They say she’s hiding behind a wall of hype and “irrational exuberance” that is proof she lacks the toughness to hold the office she seeks.

Be ever so real, y’all. You know that quote, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results”? It would be insane to subject yourself to unfettered questions by an industry that doesn’t seem to know how to handle interviews with true journalistic integrity and practices. Why beat your head against a wall you know is made of brick and disinformation?

Harris has seen a media landscape that arguably legitimized soon-to-be-President Donald Trump as a normal candidate when he was sowing seeds of unrest, writing about him agreeing to accept the 2016 election results, “if I win,” and then denying those results in 2020 with not an nth of the absolute pushback and condemnation it deserved. She saw, as we all did, major outlets referring to obvious racist attacks by the current Republican nominee and others as “racially tinged” and to blatant bloody lies as “falsehoods” and “misstatements.”

The vice president recently approached the press gaggle with a deliberately direct “Whatcha got?” That is the same thing my late daddy used to ask me point-blank when I’d been calling and calling and he knew I wanted something. The reporters had been clamoring for this. And their response? A bunch of requests for a response to crazy stuff Trump said about her.

This is the same industry that initially wrote presidential fanfic pondering replacement candidates that weren’t Harris. Then, when President Joe Biden stepped down from the race and named her as his chosen successor, they compiled panels ruminating on Trump’s assertions about her racial identity. Fox News has gone on the attack about her every day, but she’s being called a coward for not agreeing to a debate on that network in front of an arena of opposing fans.

Yeah, no. She is not, as we say in my culture, Boo Boo the Fool, nor is she, as she’s stated, falling for the okey-doke. Would you rush to sit down to withstand more of that foolishness? I would not. Despite the protestations of several writers from traditional media absolutely aghast at her avoidance of them, the truth is that Kamala Harris doesn’t need them.

Just as Trump has flocked to friendly outlets like Fox and a live conversation on X with app owner Elon Musk (or what Harris’ team referred to as “whatever that was”), Harris has done speeches at a rally in North Carolina and last week in Prince George’s County, and she has her savvy and very online comms team to get her message out. It’s smart, because most outlets have proven they don’t know how to approach her.

The vice president has expressed interest in setting something up, but I wouldn’t be shocked if she sidesteps your Dana Bashes and Kristen Welkers and does something inventive. If I were her, I’d talk to MSNBC’s Lawrence O’Donnell, who has himself been critical of media colleagues, including his own network.

Maybe she should completely pivot and do something fun like “Hot Ones,” where she can answer policy questions while eating spicy wings. Talk to Teen Vogue. Do podcasts. Hang out with “The Real Housewives of Potomac.” I know these sound like lightweight options, but are any of these suggestions less weighty than Harris’ opponent, who bleats lies and racism on his own app, or his approved media partners who go on about Harris’ laugh, dating history and heritage? It’s all a circus. I say make your own big top.

And if madam vice president decides to talk to the traditional media, be it the New York Times or CNN, I think she should only do so with interviewers who have proven themselves to have cultural competency about race, gender, historically Black colleges and universities, the Divine 9 Greek system, step parenting and being a baddie in the 1990s. I’m not saying it has to be a friendly person like Trump seeks, but it does have to be someone who respects Harris enough as a candidate to do research and not spend the whole time asking gotcha questions about her opponent’s lies. Heck, I’ll do it! I know this is a long shot, but at least I know what okey-doke means.

I am excited for Harris’ future media choices because they are sure to be unprecedented, just like her candidacy. And it’s going to be on her terms. Everyone gets to set theirs, after all.

[houxe]

Regarding my SBI/DSMP Fics

TW: Abuse, Trauma, and Mentions of Suicide.

With all that has happened, I did want to come out here and make my stance clear. I will always stand with Shelby (Shubble) and all of the victims who are speaking out against Will Gold (Wilbur Soot). If you still support that bastard, unfollow me and leave my blog and whatever small community I made.

I've already stated this is my Discord channel, but I want to put it here too.

For me, c!Wilbur is so far removed from cc!Wilbur that I don't connect the two. The characters are vessels for my own characterizations and stories. It's a bit like writing Supernatural*, Twilight, or Hazbin Hotel fanfics. I don't support the guy, monetarily or otherwise, he does not interact with fanfics, I have plans to be very vocal that I'm on Shelby's side no matter what/make it clear that what Will did is wrong, and I don't use his real life events as plots in my stories. At least, I certainly don't try to. It's why I typically change traits about the characters. (I.e. Tommy is shorter, Phil is taller, Techno is bulky, and Wilbur always has golden/hazel eyes.)

I'm aware that it's a tad different because it's rp and not something like a full on book or an actor in a movie, but DSMP has also been over for over two years and the characterizations I make for SBI are not at all based on the CCs. Real life Techno isn't a literal terrorist, Phil ain't a father married to a goddess, Tommy is not a traumatized child soldier, and Wilbur isn't suicidal and blowing up countries.

I think I'll likely focus more on Techno, Tommy, and Phil for a while, but I'm not gonna let one dude ruin a fandom and things I've made for myself. Nothing I write is ever made for Wilbur, as I've seen people saying. Additionally, Wilbur was not the only writer. Technoblade, Philza, TommyInnit, and so many others made that story what it was. Not him.

However, if any CCs come forward saying they don't want their old characters interacting with his, I will respect that.

Though I do think there is a tendency to take real life events (i.e. Techno's cancer, LJ's music, Tommy's real life parents, etc.) and put them into fiction about DSMP. I, however, don't try to do that and have stated before that I don't feel comfortable doing so. The truth is that we have not gotten any genuine SBI content outside of DSMP for years. The dynamic in real life is very different from what was presented in the DSMP. Did personalities still bleed over? Yes, I'm not going to deny that, but I'm not going to act like they're exactly the same between character and person either. We've had that conversation like in 2021, it's why we have C! and CC!.

The rather sad truth is, SBI is what got me really into writing and it's a comfort for me that nothing can compare to. Obviously, I don't think it's appropriate to be writing certain types of stories right now or to be involving characters made by CCs outside of the DSMP. I think it's up to everyone else to decide on what they want to do, however, rushing it also isn't the way to go either. Give yourself time to heal and think it over first instead of throwing away something that gives you comfort and has not been associated with by the creators for over two years.

Anyways, fuck Will Gold. Fuck the fact that he hurt so many people, and fuck that he lied and manipulated his way around the damn internet. ESPECIALLY fuck the fact that he tried to diminish what he did and not take proper accountability.

Go and support Shelby so so much, she and everyone who spoke out really deserve it. I'm glad silence on these types of issues is not being normalized.

Here is a list of (American) resources for DV help:

TNLR

RAINN

WOAR

Love is respect

The Trevor project

Futures without violence

National domestic violence hotline

Resource on what DV and abuse looks like

*Changed it from Harry Potter to Supernatural because Harry Potter is a significantly worse and more problematic franchise, even just within the content of the books. It'd be better left in the dust. I've talked about it before, but it was the first thing that came to my mind at the time and was a poor comparison on my part, I'm truly sorry for that.

[iliketangerines]

Do you write for Havik or Rain? I just barely see any fanfics of them and since ur an MK writer, I am taking the chance.

Could you write Earthrealm Champion! Reader with either Havik or Rain? Like some enemies to lovers tension going on... You don't have to write them if you don't want to though, I just wish they had more content.

sweet as wine

a/n: god knows i need more content for the both of them as well.

pairing: rain x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), creampies

Rain didn’t like you all too much

you also had water magic and when you had bested him in kombat because he foolishly believed that a human wouldn’t be able to beat the high mage of outworld…

well, safe to say, he felt humiliated

even more so when you had stuck your tongue out at him like som petty child and then put your hand up and flipped up your middle finger

he wasn’t sure what it meant but judging by Raiden’s disappointed glare, he knew it was some sort of insult

he sits across from you in the dining hall while you chat with the others about something on Earthrealm, and he scoffs at you when you say you had learned some water tricks when you were younger

you glance at him at his sound, but you just shoot him a glare before continuing with how you first learned flashy tricks as a dancer before switching to kombat

the next few days are torture having to sit next to you and listen to your stories

he tries to one-up you with his own stories about the decades he spent learning mastering the art of water magic, and yet you always seem to do better than him

you wielded magic younger, you learned it faster, you fought better with the water than he did, and it infuriated Rain to no end

even worse, he was always stuck next to you because two water magic users theoretically should get along with each other, but Rain held nothing but envy towards you

and yet, despite all that, you were always somewhat cordial with him, letting the smallest hints of frustration shine through when he grumbled something derogatory about Earthrealmers

but, you still stuck by him closely and traveled with him around the palaces and the village outside, and he eventually stopped mumbling insults at you and started seeing who you really were

he couldn’t deny that you were beautiful, especially in the soft glow of the lanterns while smiling at him

you bought him food and desserts from the vendors and asked him to explain it all to you about the food, and he found himself day after day finding joy in watching your face light up when he explained the cultural treats and snacked on them

and then he had gone and betrayed the empire and flooded Seido with water, too blinded by his ambition, and he had come back to court begging for forgiveness and to be punished for his actions

and then you were there, defending him to try and better himself as a person rather than be locked up to rot for the rest of his life

Rain felt his heart thump at the sight of you fighting for him, and he knew he was a goner

he spent his days bettering himself with you by his side, teaching him all the tricks you had learned, and he did the same for you

sometimes, some of the old banter would come back, insults flying at each other, but now it was underlined with a hint of playfulness, a hint of flirting

or maybe it was all in his head

and now, he sat with you on the balcony of the training pits, moon high in the sky, as you both drank some sweet outworld alcohol and regaled each other with tales of learning and failing certain water magic

you laugh as he tells you he had been trying to make a ball of water float over to him when he first learned magic but it had ended with puddles on the floor and a mop to clean it all up

you slap his shoulder and lean in close, not quite believing that the high mage of outworld couldn’t even manage to float a simple ball of water

Rain rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but focus on the way your hand is so warm on his shoulder

he takes another sip of his drink and tells you that you couldn’t have been perfect at wielding magic at first as well, and you smile and giggle

you tell him about how the first time you had wielded water magic, you had gotten mad at your mom for something frivolous and the sink in the kitchen had exploded during your tantrum

Rain doubles over in laughter, and he doesn’t realize how close he is to you until he opens his eyes and finds your face just a few inches from his

your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips, and his heart thumps in his chest

if he just leaned in a little closer, he would be kissing you

he whispers at you to tell him to stop if you get uncomfortable, and he raises a hand up to cup your face

you lean into the touch, and he dips his head down low to press a soft and quick kiss to your lips

you smile at him when he pulls back and ask with a smirk if that’s all he can do, you would’ve thought a mage with decades more experience would be more bold

Rain rolls his eyes and grabs onto the lapels of your shirt and smashes your lips together

you groan into the kiss and slide into his lap to try and get closer, and Rain presses his tongue into your mouth, desperate to taste all of you

you let him in, and you cup the back of his neck as your hips slowly grind into him

Rain can feel himself getting hard underneath you, and you seem to know it to because your other hand comes down and palms at his dick

he groans and pulls away to admire you

your chest is heaving, your lips are glossy, and your cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and the kiss earlier

Rain asks if you want to go further, and you jump up and drag him to his feet and tell him to take you to his bedroom

he smiles and quickly whisks you away to his bedroom, but it’s not quite so subtle with the way your giggles and his laughs echo in the high palace hallways and how your footsteps stumble all about the marbled floors

but finally, the two of you reach his bedroom, and he leads you to his humble bed

you fall onto the bed on your back, and Rain crawls onto the bed and kisses you again, weight atop of you and pressing his clothed cock into your hips

Rain grinds into you and moans into your mouth while his hands paw at your clothing clumsily, fingers not quite as deft with the alcohol running in his veins

you taste so sweet for him, and you can’t seem to get enough of him either with the way your hands claw at his clothes

the two of you pull apart, and Rain’s not quite sure what to do next honestly

but it seems you’re not too sure either because the two of you just lay on the bed, breaths mingling as your chests heave

Rain asks if you’ve ever done this before, and you let out a sigh of relief and say that you thought you were the only one

you then prop yourself up on your elbows and say you would’ve thought that since he’s so old that he would’ve had at least some experience

he ducks his head as his cheeks warm and says he was too busy focused on his studies to try and get with anyone

you laugh at him and call him a nerd, and he scowls at you

but you stop laughing eventually and wipe away a tear and say let’s take it slow

Rain nods and kisses you sweetly, before you pull away and say to get those damn robes off him, you want to see him in all his glory

he blushes at your lewd words, but when you start undressing as well, revealing your plush chest and toned legs underneath the uniform, Rain hurries to undress as well

the two of you throw your clothes onto the floor, and the both of you trace each other’s bodies with your fingertips

Rain can feel himself getting harder as your hands lightly brush over his arms, his chest, his stomach

and he can feel your impatience as well with the way you squirm underneath his warm hands squeezing your chest and your thighs

he kisses you again, leaning overtop of you, and you wrap your legs around his waist and grind your pussy against his cock

he moans into your mouth at the feeling of your wet pussy sliding against his, and he reaches a hand down to line himself up and push into you

you whine at the stretch and tell him to slow down, you need to adjust

little tears well at the edges of your eyes as you pant, and Rain peppers light little kisses over your face as he stays buried inside of you

he moans into your skin at the feeling of your warm wet cunt around his cock, but he keeps his hips still as he lets you adjust to the stretch

finally, you let out a whimper for him to move, and he gives an experimental thrust

you let out a little whine and throw your head back as you dig your nails into his back, and Rain groans at the feeling of your pussy tightening around him

his thrusts are slow and shallow at first, but as your whine grow needier, Rain’s thrusts gets faster and rougher until he’s fucking into you roughly

his hips make a wet slapping sound as they meet yours and bumps into your clit, sending little stars bursting through your vision

you moan as Rain re-angles his hips and his tip bullies against your sweet spot

your whimpers grow louder, and you scratch angry red lines into Rain’s back as he groans into your ear

you’re so tight and warm for him, and the little pleas you let out as he fucks into you has his mind spinning with pleasure

he captures your lips in a kiss, and you moan into his mouth as your cunt clamps down on him and you cum

Rain whines into your mouth, and his hips stutter as he cums inside of you

he lets his seed empty into your wet pussy and kisses you until you’re both breathless again

finally, he pulls out, and he lays down beside you

you can feel his cum dripping out of you, but you can’t really find it in yourself to care as Rain brings you close to his plush chest

you look up at him, and you can’t help yourself as you tell him that he didn’t do so bad for a old man

Rain scowls down at you and reaches his hand down to give a playful smack to your ass, and you wiggle your eyebrows at him, telling him jokes on him you liked that

Rain smiles and tells you next time, and you laugh and cuddle up next to him

the both of you fall asleep quickly, close together and in each other’s warmth