#also I said I was going to write fiction today and that has not happened but I wrote about fictional characters so that counts for something

[emometalhead]

At some point I might actually need to interact with the Star Trek: TNG fandom, because Wesley Crusher won't leave my brain

[justanotherbirdbrain-blog]

Geology of Natural Disasters and How to write them into your fictional universe.

So, you want to write about a natural disaster to advance your plot and torture your players/characters even more? Let me tell you how, accurately.

I feel like unless it is a volcano, natural disasters are a pretty slept on plot drivers, and some of them are really cool and unique! Today, I will talk to you about land slides, earthquakes (And earthquake related disasters), and volcanoes.

Landslides: Probably one I see the least in stories, but one that would be incredibly interesting to write into a plot where they believe in curses. Landslides can happen along ocean bluffs, slightly hilly areas, and highly mountainous areas, this means it is something that can happen in most landscapes. But what can trigger a landslide? Mostly all you need to trigger a landslide could be just abnormally large amounts of rain, excessive deforestation (with a little bit of rain), or an earthquake. If you don't want to use deforestation or an earthquake as a catalyst, a really cool indicator that the land is slipping and may be prone to a collapse is J hooked trees.

This indicates that there is soil creeping slowly over time, and it may lead to a major landslide.

2. Earthquakes: Probably one of the easiest things to write, earthquakes can happen anywhere, but they are most common in places that are tectonically active areas. There are about three types of environments you can expect earthquakes to be common. The first is just rugged mountains, if your landscape looks like this, you should write in earthquakes. Associated hazards could be landslides, avalanches, and large falling rocks.

The next landscape could be a thin mountain range, next to the ocean, very scenic, but very dangerous. Essentially, I am describing a subduction zone environment.

Earthquakes in these areas could equal a couple different associated disasters. Scenario one: A very large earthquake happens, and the ocean begins to recede. This is a tsunami, enough said. If you are writing a tsunami though, please, please, do not write it as a large wave, thank you. Also, a common way people are hurt by tsunami's are from them going into the ocean because they don't understand a tsunami is going to happen.

Scenario two: A large earthquake happens, your characters are in a valley and suddenly the ground begins to liquify as the ground shakes, once the shaking stops, the ground becomes solid like nothing ever happened, except everything has suddenly sunk into the now hard ground. This is called liquefaction and it typically happens in areas that have loose dirt or lots of saturated soil.

Scenario three: There are a lot of small earthquakes, they do not cause a lot of damage, but you begin to notice that one of the isolated mountains has a plume rising. Earthquakes can indicate lava moving underground and the filling of magma chambers.

The next environment that can host lots of earthquakes would be regions that have a lot of really deep valleys and small mountain ranges (not cone volcanoes), but overall seems pretty flat.

This indicates a transform fault like the San Andreas. If you want to hint at there being earthquakes in the area, you can show fence posts that are suddenly several feet out of line at a dilapidated farm or something similar.

(These earthquakes are different because they are cased from sideways movement, not an up-and-down movement this hint can only be used for this environment). Volcanoes would not be found here, but liquefaction and landslides could still occur here.

4. Volcanoes: If you thought earthquakes had a lot of information, volcanoes do too. First you have to ask yourself, what kind of volcano you want to have, what kind of eruption style? So lets break down the kind of eruptions you can have and what their landscapes look like. Hawaiian Shield volcano: This will produce a smooth fast lava, the landscape typically is pretty flat, but there will be small cones and the rocks can have a ropey or jagged texture and the rocks will be almost exclusively black to dark red.

Stratovolcanoes: These will be solitary mountains, typically, that look like perfect cones (Picture shown in earthquake section). These will have large ash cloud eruptions and pyroclastic flows, they may have some lava, but typically most damage is done from the pyroclastic flows (think Pompeii). Some hints of these, other than describing the cone features (which can be hidden by other mountains), would be to talk about petrified wood! Trees can get fossilized in the ash and I imagine it would be very strange to find this rock that clearly looks to be a piece of wood, but its a rock. Subcategory- Calderas: Used to be a large stratovolcano, but they erupt so explosively that the entire cone collapses and creates a basin.

There are a lot of kinds of volcanoes out there, so forgive me for just putting an infographic and then talking to you about these really rare types of eruptions that I feel like people should know about.

Okay lets talk about blue lava (kind of) and black lava

You will notice the lava is still red in the middle of this image, during the day these would look like a normal eruption, but at night the burning sulfur would make it appear blue. Some cool features other than this, would be that any water in the area would become very acidic and burn the skin due to sulfuric acid. This would again be really cool if you are trying to describe a 'cursed' land.

Black lava: This happens only in the east African rift I believe, but it is a carbonatite lava, but if you are writing in a rift valley (where the continent is tearing apart to form a new ocean) this might be a cool feature. The lava will cool white and will quickly erode, it makes for a very alien landscape!

Anyway as always, this is supposed to be an introductive guide for the basics of writing geology to create cool landscapes/features into dnd or fictional universes, if you are a geologist please understand my oversimplification of tectonics, I didn't want people to run away.

[kaysungshine]

𝓛𝓸𝓯𝓲 𝓛𝓾𝓼𝓽 ♡

{ Pairing } - Producer.bf!Jisung x afab.gf!reader

{ Genre } - NSFW; s/f/d(dark)*, PWP, established relationship

{ Synopsis } - Your boyfriend doesn't know any other method of stress relief, other than creating music. He can get so consumed by it, it can become the stressor. So you decide to present him with a new method. That's how you found yourself walking down the street in nothing but lingerie and a long coat.

{ WC } - 2.9k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, *forced orgasm/slight dubcon if you squint, everything is consensual but there is begging for more when reader might be at her limit so that's why I'm including dubcon (for those who may find it triggering)*, use of pet names (baby, angel, mine, my love, good girl & Ji), very lowkey needy/soft dom & romantic sub dynamic, worshipping reader, oral (f. recieving), squirting, overstimulation, unprotected piv (do as I say & not as I write, pee after sex too!), creampie, cum feeding & eating, fingers in mouth, pussy worship, I may just have gotten carried away with oral fixations okay? FORGIVE ME.

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - I originally was going to post a Hyunjin oneshot next, but I wanted to finish this one in time for Jiji's birthday! It's 2 am on the 14th where I am heheh. Hopefully you all like it. Han producing music will always be hot asf for me personally lmao. Barely proofread.

The air was cool, seeping underneath your long wool coat. In any other circumstance, on a late fall night, the coat would be enough to keep the chill out. Today however, it wouldn't. But you still kept walking, determined to make it to Jisungs studio. 

You focused on the clicking of the heels on the boots you wore. And the sound of the wind picking up, signalling a blustery night ahead. The small sounds calm your nerves. 

You were anxious about Jisung's reaction, he was in one of his moods again. You understand, you truly do. Juggling everything he has to on his plate, it was no easy feat. There were times he'd just let that dark veil take over, and shut everyone out without even meaning to. 

You knew he was in that state again when you hadn't seen or heard from him in three days. It wasn't for lack of effort on your end either. Every phone call sent to voicemail, every text sent by you was met with the same response;

'At the studio, I'll text you after, angel'.

You knew it was time for intervention when Chan texted you that he was only coming home, at 2 in the morning no less, to shower and change. No eating, no resting, just back to the studio afterwards.

This had happened twice before in the almost year you've been dating. Each time you remember talking with him afterwards, he always said the same thing;

'making music is my stress relief.'

That may be true, but it doesn't change the fact that he is also a workaholic. One who easily gets lost in the creative space he has built a career off of. And once that diligence sets in, it's hard to shake off. 

So here you are, ready to try a new approach. Ready to offer a new kind of relief. An alternative. 

You and Jisungs sex life was far from boring. Far from infrequent, you'd say too. But it surely was more... monotonous. You'd never complain about it, and neither would he. There was nothing wrong with it. It just happened at the 'perfect' times in your relationship. 

Before bed, after date nights, on monthly anniversaries, to express massive amounts of love, etc. 

It was never to celebrate happiness, calm anger, or comfort sadness. Never to relieve stress. 

You were determined to change that. There was no reason you could not help him in any way you could. And in this aspect, you knew you could. 

Still, you were nervous. This would be new, he never did well with new. 

Your footsteps stopped, leaving only the sound of the wind in your ears. Until you pressed your badge against the card reader, listening to the beeps, to the gears unlock. 

Once inside the lobby, the clinking of your heels against the vinyl tile filled your ears. Each step matches the thumping in your heart, you find yourself speed walking.

 You smiled and gave a little wave to the staff in the lobby, and they returned it. 

In the elevator, the sound of its melodic music filled your ears next. The whirring background noise the machinery made, stopped, as you reached your desired floor. 

There was silence when you stepped off. The flooring is carpeted now, and soundproof rooms lined the hallway leaving the night quiet. 

You took a deep breath and made your way to the door you knew was your boyfriend's. It was unlocked, thankfully. 

You let yourself in, seeing the silhouette of your boyfriends back facing the door in the blue lighting. 

He was all about ambiance in this facet of life, having LED's lining the ceiling. The only source of light in the room, besides the glowing screens of his monitors. 

He was sat in his chair, headphones on, hood up, head nodding in tandem with his fingers tapping. 

You took the opportunity to slide your boots off. Opting to keep your coat on, you brushed your hair over one shoulder. You took your badge from around your neck, and tossed it on the leather couch that was against the wall. 

Padding your way over to him, you place your hand on his shoulder lightly. He tenses under your touch, and turns his head. He's frowning when he first faces you, eyebrow furrowed together. 

When he sees you though, he softens. The corners of his mouth slightly upturning to a small smile. 

"Baby..." He whispers, sliding his head phones off. Soft lofi music is filling the room from them. 

He grabs your hand off his shoulder, bringing it to his lips. He's pressing soft kisses to your palm, and placing it on his cheek. 

"It's late my angel, why are you here?" He says in a husky voice with more volume. 

Your heart flutters at his gentleness, and you bend down to press your own lips to the top of his head. A musky, yet spicy vanilla scent fills your nostrils. His scent. 

"I'm here to help you baby." You murmur to him softly. 

That caught his attention. He fully swivelled around to face you, taking both of your hands in his. He gazed up into your eyes, a curious look on his face. 

You smiled down on him, feeling nothing but love for this man. You'd relax him in any way you can. You placed a hand on each side of his face, bending down again. No more words were said as you kissed him. As your hands slid down his neck, his found themselves on yours, pulling you closer to him. Matching your eagerness.

You let your hands fully slide off him, and tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Your trembling fingers were working the buttons on your coat. One by one, releasing the fabric from your bare skin. 

You stood up, letting the coat fall from your shoulders.

Jisung lets out a soft gasp, and licks his lips. 

Exposed to him, was his favorite lingerie you owned. It was a bra and panty set, satin and lace. Revealing. 

All white. 

Your boyfriends favorite part. He always said that the contrast against your melanated skin was a work of art. He joked about commissioning Hyunjin, if he didn't have to see you essentially naked.

So here you stood before him, presenting yourself to him. Silently willing him to do as he pleases. To take your body and use you to decompress. You were too nervous to say it.

He traces the swell of your breast with a finger, curving around the delicate lace. It's a simple touch, but it still sends a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps blooming on your skin. 

"So sexy." He mumbles, eyes roving your whole body. 

He stands up, kissing you desperately, and walking you back to the couch. Your knees hit the back of it, and you're forced to sit. Lips ripping away from his, panting at the desire in his eyes. 

All your nerves were gone. New or not, it would never change the fact that Jisung craved you as much as you craved him. 

He held himself up with his hands on the back of the couch, and hovered above you for a moment looking you in the eyes. 

Then he was sinking to the ground, on his knees, between your legs. His hands smooth over your thighs, making them pliant with soft kisses, before he spreads them open. Your pussy is glistening behind the lace, and he licks his lips again. 

His hand glides from your thigh, to your heat. Thumb brushing against that sensitive bud, the friction eliciting a whine from you. 

His eyes snap up to you, and he holds your gaze as his tongue licks a stripe up your clothed core. The tip of it flicking deliciously against your sensitive clit. 

"Mmmm..." He groaned at the taste of you, "All for me?"

You moan at his tongue swiping against you again, and again, "All for you, my love." 

His fingers hook underneath the band of your underwear, and he peels them off you. He's whimpering, watching as strings of your arousal stick to them. The cool air is hitting your sex, before puffs of hot air from his mouth is. And you're shivering again at the sensation. 

A gasp escapes you when his tongue slides between your folds. Lapping up your juices, and suckling at that bundle of nerves. You listen to the wet sounds his mouth is making against you, along with the broken melody coming from his head set. You get lost in it. 

Your hand finds his hair, and you're grinding against his mouth. He's whimpering and moaning with you, one hand palming at his bulge. The other has fingers teasing your entrance. 

You let out a loud moan when two fingers push into you, and your grasp on his hair loosens. He takes the opportunity to get air, panting, mouth hanging open. His cheeks, chin and lips all shine in the dull blue light. 

His fingers continue to pump into you as he watches your face contort for him. He's smiling with lidded eyes, basking in the fact that he's making you feel so good. 

"Ji..." You moan, needing more.

"My beautiful baby, let me worship you a little longer." And he's diving back down.

His tongue focuses on your clit, and fingers coaxing that gummy spot inside you. He's pulling moan after moan from you, making out with your lower lips, bringing you closer to the edge. Your thighs start trembling around his head, and he has to grip the fleshy part of one of them to stop you from squeezing him before he's finished. 

You're spilling over the edge, body alight and your release coating his fingers, and face. He's lapping up every little bit, determined to taste your pleasure on his tongue. Only when you start to whine from constant overstimulation does he stop. 

He's kissing his way up to your lips, leaving a wet trail behind him that you couldn't bring yourself to care about. 

You're not sure when he managed to discard his pants and boxers, but you feel his hard, bare length pressing against your inner thigh. 

He's rubbing his member against your pussy now, letting your slick and his saliva cover him. Kissing your neck as he's rocking against you, he whispers, "Angel, do you have another one for me?"

Of course you did, you knew you did. You needed to feel him, you needed to please him. So you started nodding fervently, eyes rolling in the back of your head when he sucked lightly near your ear and jaw. 

He had a grasp of his cock now, dragging the head through your folds with added pressure. Each squelch of your juices sounds like music to your ears, anticipation building in your body.

"'Gonna make you feel s'good." He's whining into your neck. 

He has your legs around him now, as he fills you slowly, both of you savoring the sensations it brings. Your pussy spasms around him, and it has him grunting. 

"Always feel so good squeezin' me..." He mumbled, letting you adjust, "...exactly what I needed..." 

Then he was pumping into you, and you felt it. All the frustrations he was holding onto, all the stress, all the vexation. He was translating it into the energy he used to pleasure you. Letting go of it all. 

You couldn't hear the soft lofi music coming from his head set anymore, instead the slapping of skin and heavy breathing mixed with moans were filling the room. You'd never be more thankful for a soundproof space. Neither of you were holding back. 

Your moans only being interrupted by quiet curses, and his being peppered in between praises of how good you feel for him. He made it known he was chasing your high before his, begging you to cum for him. 

"Please angel," he whispers against your lips, "need to feel you cumming on my cock."

His pace became quicker as he kissed you, and his hand slithered down to play with your clit. Your back arched off the couch at that, angling him deeper inside you. He groaned, and his thrusts faltered for a second indicating he was close. 

Regardless he was determined to finish you, and his tone grew more demanding, "Be a good girl... cum for me, angel."

And that was all your body and mind needed to let go, legs locking around him and body shaking. Your hands slid under his hoodie, and nails dug into his back. It was the kind of intense orgasm, that your moan got stuck in your throat, instead a rough growl coming out. 

You sounded absolutely feral for him, and you were. 

That was what pushed him over the edge, a slew of curses leaving his mouth as his hips stuttered. With a final harsh thrust, he cums deep inside you. All of the negativity has dispersed from his body, and he collapsed back to his knees. 

You're both panting, trying to catch your breath. You jolt when you feel his fingers in your folds, over sensitivity taking over yet again. He's spreading you open, hypnotized by the way his cum is drooling out of you. 

"So perfect, fuck." He says as he drags his finger through it. 

He's bringing it up to your lips, and your mouth opens instinctively. You're sucking his finger into your mouth, his essence salty but familiar on your tongue. 

His eyes are locked to yours as you work his finger, licking it clean. He slips a second finger in your mouth, letting you cover them in your saliva before he dips back down for a taste himself. 

You're whining around his fingers when his tongue glides against your clit, and your hips try to retract into the couch. Quickly, he has both hands on your hips, securing you in place so he can continue tasting you. 

"We taste so good together, my love..." He's mumbling against you. 

His words will never fail to coax submission out of you.

Your hand flies back to his hair, as good as it feels you're trying to pull him away. He's just burying his face deeper, tongue dipping into your entrance to make sure he's tasting everything. 

"Ji... s'too much... I can't-" You're pleading, even though you feel yourself succumbing to the overwhelming brushes of his tongue.

He hisses when you finally succeed in pulling him off you, "Please angel," He's begging again, "Just one more. I know you have one more for me." 

"Fuck, Ji, I-" 

He silences you with his tongue flat against you, another lick up to your clit "Please, need to hear you cumming one more time for me." He whines and starts leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your pussy. 

You always knew he was more of a giver. That even though it was you who had cum twice, and he only once. He preferred it that way. Even if he was the one needing the release more, he thrived more on your pleasure.

"Just be gentl-" You try to say, but cut yourself off with a groan. 

He's eagerly slurping at your core. Lost in the moment, all he has is your pussy on his mind now. Messily licking and lapping at every inch. He's shaking his head and moaning into it, keeping you pinned in place by your hips. 

You feel another orgasm starting to build quickly, clenching around nothing. He risks you bucking your hips roughly into his face, and takes a hand off your hip. He's pushing two fingers into you yet again, and you're seeing stars. 

His fingers curl, and his lips close around your clit, sucking lightly. You feel your release slip away from you, and your cumming on his face again. Yelling his name. He only grows more determined.

He leans back so he can watch the beautiful, writhing, mess he reduced you to. The thumb of his other hand is replacing his mouth, continuously flicking your bud. He doesn't slow his movements as you ride out your orgasm, instead picking them up. 

Your world turns white, and you feel yourself squirt on his hands. He's watching you in awe, whispering more praise for you as your juices spray over him. 

"So fucking sexy, my good girl."

"That's it, let go for me, let it all go."

"Knew you had one more in you, all for me."

"My perfect angel."

It's when you start to slip into that floaty space that he finally stops. He doesn't want you too gone, he's limited in the care he can provide here.

He's positioning you to lay on the couch, and he's laying behind you. You're both wet and sticky, and heaving for air. Yet, it's blissful. 

You lay there for what could've been minutes or an hour, you weren't sure. You were content in each other's touch. Your arm reaches back to caress his head, fingers combing through his hair. He's humming. 

"I love you." You finally murmur. 

"I love you more, angel. Thank you for this." He says, and kisses your shoulder. 

"You caught on quickly to my idea." You giggled.

He laughed with you, "I caught on halfway through it, actually. I was just beside myself with desire for you." 

You blushed at that, and you were thankful he couldn't see it. 

"I mean you showed up in my favorite set..." He whispers and starts toying with the lace on your bra, his finger slipping underneath to flick your nipple, "In ONLY my favorite set. How could I not show you how much I admire you." 

You felt his length harden against you again, and he rolled his hips slowly as he gripped your hip. 

You knew the night was far from over. 

As for how you were both going to escape and clean up? Well that was a problem for future you. 

Taglist:

@eczlipse @sailor--sun @maisyyyyyy @jupire @prettiichocolateprincess

@meowmeowminnie @joyofbebbanburg @adieu-lisette @sleeping-beau-tay @staytinyluv

@lookitsjess @majorlymismanaged @kpopsstuffs @helloimacalumgirl @bbokarimenu

@bubblepop-stay @mauvemelon @ohhlittlegirl @ang4lheart @spnwinchestersd

@adieu-lisette @loud-minhoe @juwire @anylady-fics @antisocialties

@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale

As always, please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist. And if you do, pretty please interact with my fics besides liking (ie; replying/commenting/reblogging). Although I will always appreciate liking as well! Feedback is always cherished! ♡

But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.

[yvesdot]

How To Get Roughly 50 Notes On An Original Writing Post And Possibly Net A Single Reader

I had someone ask today how I get people to click through and read my writing, and I'm realizing that I've never actually made a post all in one place of everything I do to get a new piece of short fiction off the ground... so here you go! How to get (some) eyes on your work, even if it is not published anywhere of interest and you don't have a marketing team behind you.

The #1 thing is presentation. You want to get people's attention, and once you have it, convince them to keep paying attention. Fortunately, people tend to be both reasonable and predictable, which means all you have to do is follow The Formula.

(original post link)

Here's the formula from the above post broken down:

[giant horizontal title card, preferably animated to catch the eye] OR [a few tasteful parallels, if you're good at parallel posts]

TITLE (linked to where you can read the piece) / wordcount

a quote that is representative of the tone, themes, prose style, and/or the "promise of the premise"

A longer pitch, featuring the overall subject of the piece (transsexual reality TV drama), any comp titles (Detransition, Baby), the main draw (in this case, watching trans people be awful to clueless cis people), major themes (performance), and any other promises you'd like to make (food romance and tigers). You can see that the quote I chose delivers on the promise of trans people intellectually outperforming cis people-- if I were a reader, I would be more likely to trust that the rest of the pitch was accurate based on that assurance.

If you have any positive reviews on your piece, say so. If it has won any awards or contests, say so. If your work has made people cry, Doja Cat - Say So. Always. Generally speaking, more personal and more detailed is better, but keep it to one or two people-- e.g. "when I gave this to my S/O to read he shot milk out of his nose so far I had to go clean under the couch" or "my favorite review of this piece is the reader who said they read it chapter-by-chapter under their covers because they wanted it all to themself." This should be one sentence.

Depending on where the story is published, what you usually promote, etc., it may be worthwhile saying the story is free. Use your judgment on whether the reader can tell.

I also like putting my links at the bottom so someone seeing this on a friend's dash can easily track me around the 'Net. They make me look more professional (I now include a link to my website) and they visually balance the post, in my opinion. This post also happened to have some additional links for bonus content.

This is not as high stakes as it seems. I'm not 100% happy with the pitch here, and I'm not 100% happy with the graphics I've used in other cases. These are some bones that help to sell the piece even when the details aren't as sharp.

REBLOGGING

When is the last time you read something the first time you saw it on your dash? I schedule reblogs of all important posts at least twice over the next 2-3 days, often three times so I can get the morning/afternoon/evening reblog. If your followers tend to be more active at certain times, go ahead and use those. In the past I've intentionally scheduled posts for times I knew more popular mutuals were active, and it has paid off!

I also schedule a reblog for a week and a month and sometimes even a full calendar year out, because I know there is going to be that person who tags the piece '#to read' and instantly forgets about it, only to get excited when they see it weeks later. I am very often that reader. The goal is to catch people when they're ready to read immediately, and this is a game of chance.

Every so often, I go through my entire #writing or #important writing updates or even just #popular tag(s) and queue two dozen posts before shuffling my queue to redistribute matters. This keeps my older work circulating, ensuring new readers get a chance to see older pieces and giving those older pieces another shot at dashboard space. (More on #popular later.) This sounds like a lot, which is why you have to space everything pretty far apart. Fortunately, this is the world's best site for cool things to reblog. I guarantee you that you can find something new you love to post in the meanwhile.

COPING WITH FAME

The post above is what I, a published author, consider "doing well" for a post about my writing on Tumblr. As of October 10th, 2024, over two years after its initial posting and over five years into my posting doggedly about my original fiction, it has 77 notes. More than half (43) are likes. Around half of the reblogs are me promoting my own work or the same very sweet person dutifully reblogging me every time I do so. Glancing through the reblogs now, I know of four people whom I can confirm have read it. Presumably, there are more who are completely silent and have never interacted with the post whatsoever. Genuinely: wahoo!! I am so grateful and happy for the attention and reception of my work.

This is the number one thing I suggest: focus on what you have, and not what you lack. Imagine your post from the perspective of an outsider: even one reblog means you convinced that one person to spread your art! How cool is that! This is also good advice because moping is simply not helpful; it will not get you more reads. (And no, neither will guilting others. Kill that vent post in your head!)

GETTING FOLLOWERS

I don't have that many followers. Of the followers I do have, people are very unpredictably active. When I hear about other people's follower counts I am consistently surprised, because people with half of mine will have fans and haters the likes of which I could not possibly dream of. I follow 500-follower folk who post "I ate a strawberry today" and get 6 asks ranging from "Wow I respect you so much for eating that strawberry" to "I'm going to come to your address at [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] and shove bananas down your throat for hating on my favorite fruit."

I point this out to establish three important things. 1) Be grateful for what you have (in my case, 0 anonymous hate asks about fruitpinions), 2) followers have far less impact on interaction than one might think, and 3) followers don't engage with the things you might like them to.

Think about yourself. Are you more likely to reblog a photo of a cat in a pumpkin (alright, here) or something advertising fifteen minutes' worth of writing, which could be, for all you know, bad? Or, for that matter, by a person you should not like to support? Reblogs on generically interesting things are 'safer' (unfortunately) than reblogs on art, and it makes perfect sense that people are skittish around the latter. People don't often reblog things they haven't read, and nobody can reblog every artpost on their dash. Having someone else put it there, however, is incredibly powerful—someone's vetted this post as Worth a Reblog, after all. Having more followers allows for much more of this.

(Followers don't guarantee any one sort of interaction, but having more of them is rarely bad. Rarely.)

Across my most popular posts, one theme becomes very obvious: people like things that apply to them or their blog. I try to post writing advice/opinions/memes every so often, because I know I have a loyal base of writerfolk who like to see that from me, and it's "easier" to reblog than my writing. This is simply the nature of the universe. I used to pretty frequently go into the #writeblr tag and check out what was recently popular so I could figure out how to serve the same base, and from time to time it worked.

You're welcome to examine the list of #writing posts that made it to 100 notes, because each tends to have a notable reason behind its success: a reblog with an exceptionally good review, a contest win, a wordcount that lends itself to pasting the whole thing in one go.

(Posts about my book's release are a notable exception, in part due to Blaze and in part due to my absolutely relentless flogging of their reblog buttons during the ~year of promotion. Also in large part to a dedicated circle of friends who passed the post around nonstop! Thank you so much!!)

A lot of people will tell you to attempt covert reciprocal promotion. You know—reblog a lot of stuff, in the hopes that people will reblog yours. If I could change one thing on Tumblr, it would be this: the culture that quietly encourages disingenously interacting with other people with a secret True Goal in mind. (On the autism website.)

Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not do this. If you comment on other people's work, do it because you're happy to do so. When I released Paper Tigress, I went through everybody else who responded to the same prompt and read their work, because I had the day off and I was curious. This has led to Paper Tigress having more comments on Reedsy than one of my contest winners, and even outranking the shortlisted story in the same prompt category. However, this would have been a waste of my time if I did not genuinely enjoy reading the other stories. I read 80+ stories, taking several hours, and gained 30 comments from the venture (half my comments are my responses).

Crucially, I do not promote other writers' work on Tumblr in the hopes of them reading or boosting mine. This is the #1 tip I see thrown around that I viscerally disagree with. While, again, I am grateful for engagement with my work regardless of the context, I do not want people suffering through my work in the hopes that I will promote them. I work a full-time job, and my reading calendar is perpetually overbooked, including with work by my absolute best of friends. Even if it wasn't, I think it would be quite insulting if I were posting works in the hopes that someone would choke it down like medicine. I post what I think is good so that people can read and enjoy it. If you are not enjoying it, I do not want you to feel as though you have to read it. My aim is to give to others what my favorite authors have given me, which is most certainly not A Bad Time Spent Being Dishonest In The Hopes Of Getting Something Back. You have better things to do with your time. Please be honest.

CONCLUSION

Realistically, the readers I have, I gained through being a published author for five years promoting my behind off on Tumblr, the least forgiving social media for promotion. People like it when you have a book they can buy, especially if it has Goodreads reviews that make it look like you have been vetted for them. Many people who follow me have read only Something's Not Right and nothing else. (Many people who follow me have read everything but Something's Not Right.) I have posted dozens of pieces on Tumblr and Wattpad (and AO3). I gained a small number of readers writing and posting fanfiction for the Locked Tomb Tri(?)logy, even though I marketed it absolutely terribly.

Just keep writing. Keep writing, keep posting, and keep making sure everyone who follows you knows you write. And keep writing because you want to. There's no better advice than that.

[midnightorchids]

Hey babe- I wanted to know how you felt about booknerd!reader x Jason. Because it's been rotting my brain forever now and I need to know what someone as genius as yourself thinks about it. So like- We know Jason is a book girl. He's got huge floor to ceiling shelves in his apartment filled with non-fiction, historical fiction, classics, and maybe a few Si-Fi titles. I feel like he would love Toni Morison, Maya Angelou, Henrik Isben, Margret Atwood, and maybe even Harukai Murakami. He has this beautiful collection of leather bond additions of the Iliad Bruce gave him when he was 16. And when he finally invites you over, he cannot contain his excited smile as you start gushing over his home library. He makes you guys coffee and you spend hours talking about your fav genres, authors, online author drama - and after he's walking back to his apartment after dropping you off, he's smiling down at his phone at the message you sent. 'I had so much fun today! Ur library is so so so cool, was wondering if you would be ok going with me to Chapters next week? Wanted to pick up the new Skyward book' He's kicking his feet and hiding his face in his pillow. So deeply overjoyed that his crush shares in his immense love of literature. After you guys officially get together, he buys you so many fucking books. He fallows your goodreads wishlist religiously and surprises you almost every month with a new addition to your growing collection. He usually collects used paper backs, but for you, he splurges on the hardcover special additions. Of course it's because he loves you but it's also so that, maybe, you'll be more incentivised to move into a different apartment. One with floor-to-ceiling book shelves and a shared bed... just saying.. He branches out into more genres and authors he wouldn't usually read from just so he could talk about your favourite books with you. You do the same - your book collections getting mixed together in the process. Library dates, bookstore dates, used-bookstore dates. Your first couple of dates and realisations of love happened in and around books. You would always leave little messages inside the first page of the books you give him. So that if your every away or he's on a mission and he takes a book with him, he'll have one of your small messages of love as a reminder of something to return home to.

Hi hon!! I’m so sorry for the late response, I’ve been dying with uni and just life in general recently, but I’m back and ready to write again!! But I agree with pretty much everything that you said, like you’ve written it out so well and it’s just so cute! I was literally giggling and kicking my feet at the last one omg. I shall try to add more stuff!!

Jason’s go to present for his loved ones is annotated copies of his favourite books. He only does this when he feels comfortable with a person because sharing his thoughts feels raw and vulnerable sometimes.

Having a significant other who loves to read and appreciates these types of gifts would make him feel happy and very emotional. It’s not often he gets to share this side of himself with people.

When he gifts his copies to his friends or his partner, he feels like he’s leaving a piece of him with the person, so he only does this when he trusts you.

He leaves detailed little messages on the margins of his books. He draws little smiley faces on the cute parts and angry faces on the parts that made him upset.

In the books for his significant other, Jason leaves little notes around the quotes that remind him of you. He highlights them in a different colour and makes sure his notes look extra tidy.

He sucks at wrapping things, so sometimes you’ll get a very poorly wrapped, tape covered novel. You’ll look at the wrapping and laugh, you’d pinch his cheeks teasingly and tell him he did a good job. He’d turn his face away in embarrassment, which leads to you placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Then, there would be times where he doesn’t have the energy to deal with the horrible wrapping paper. So, you’ll be gifted a plain paper back with a sticky note on the front cover that reads ‘for you,’ in squiggly lines.

It’s honestly sweet and he gets very shy about it.

Also, Jason’s taste in books is very diverse, he reads anything from the classics to romance to gothic horror. He reads anything and everything and because of that, I think that it would be very easy for you to share your thoughts and recommendations with him.

Even if Jason hasn’t read the book, he listens intently with a huge smile on his face. He loves listening to you talk. If he doesn’t know the author or the book, he will try to familiarize himself with what you’re reading and branch into different genres.

There would be lots of reading and bookstore dates. You’d browse through the different aisles with his hand in yours, only letting go when a particular book catches your attention. He watches you in awe as you gush about the different series.

(Side note, my friends and I always go to bookstores and just point out the worst books we’ve read and I think Jason would do that too.)

As you search through the shelves to find your next read, he’ll come to you all excited, rambling about the book in his hand. From the looks of it, it seems like he loves the book. His hands are moving around, he’s smiling and giggling, but if you pay attention, he’s actually just cussing out the author.

This becomes a tradition in your relationship. You both bring up books that you hate instead of the ones that you really enjoy. You’d spend the next hour of your bookstore visit just giggling at the random passages that the author thought were good enough to share with the world.

I think this would also lead to a book club of reading awful books sometimes just for shits and giggles. There would be weeks where you would read amazing, well written stories together, but then there would be times when you guys would pick up something bad just to make fun of it.

Overall, Jason would love having a book nerd significant other because he finally has someone who he can geek out with.

[plmp0]

The Sex Love House PT 3

Summary: Welcome to the love house where a lot of stories will infold, 7 participants will have a chance to live together in the same house for a mounth while still doing their normal activities, will they find real love in this short period? Or at least this is what ur friend want u to believe. Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: a very manipulative!jay, manipulative!sunghoon, manipulative!heeseung, ex!bf!Jake, everyone is a perv in this house, reader is clueless, shameless reader, kinda stalker reader, Siyeon (from dreamcatcher) is also part of this, this is a pure filth, explicit content.

Smut warning: hand!job, oral (f), cum eating, desperate Jake, kind of subby!jake, p in v, unprotected sex (cause it's fiction), overstimulation, a lot of teasing, i think that's it

A/N: This part was supposed to go out a long time ago but i forgot to save it and i had to re-write it again so it's not as good cause i got annoyed sorry. Also this is not proof read so there might be some mistakes and typos so yeah

It's the week-end Jake woke up today going straight to ur room knocking on ur door before entering, u were still in ur shower robe hands blow drying ur hair as he looked at u through the mirror "oh hi i was going to talk to u after i finish, we didn't get a chance to yesterday" u said upon brushing ur hair.

He noded his head eyes scanning u, u got more beautiful since the last time he saw u, he's ngl he forgot about u at some point but he just woke up one day having u running through his head, what could u be doing now? Did u get taller? Did u let ur hair grow? How many relationships have u been through? He had these small thoughts about u, but everytime his heart tries to soften to u, the memory of ur ghosting and its side effects come back to him, it was like a trauma for him, getting in the way of every relationship he tried to be in, always having doubts about the other part, not able to trust her fully, he really has abandonement issues now.

"There is no need to bring back what happened in the past" u said getting him out of his thoughts, u turned off the blowdryer approaching him eyes softening now that he is close to u, ur guilt kicking in immediatly "m so sorry for what i did, i know nothing can excuse what i did but i wasn't mature enough" u said holding his hand in urs, he cleared his throat avoiding looking at u, pulling out his hand gentely and that was enough for u to know that he didn't forget u.

U sighed feeling bad but deciding to brush off the topic "so tell me, what r u doing now?" U asked hoping to get rid of the awkwardness noting how he didn't let a word out.

He smiled shrugging "i took over my dad's work"

U smiled back remembering how sweet his dad used to be and how good he treated u "i hope he is doing fine"

"He is" was all he replied with, taking a seat on ur bed "ahh right! Do u want something?" U asked after runing out of ideas to lighten the mood, he sighed hands massaging his forhead "i just wanted to ask if u have some pain relievers"

"Ohhh? Ur head hurts?" U asked hands busy searching in ur drawer for the said pills, taking it out and handing it to him "here" he took it from u thanking u and putting it in his pocket .

U sat on ur chair facing him now forgetting that u r still in ur robe that is about to open in any second now, ur hair isn't fully dry u look so... so tempting Jake's eyes can't help but stare at u head empty only u running through it.

"U don't want the guys to know that we were together?" U asked after talking for sometime now without getting a reply from him.

He cleared his throat again " ah idk i didn't know if u'd like them to find out so i chose to not say anything" he shrugged, u smiled at him he is still considerate as always "i don't really mind but since we didn't talk about it the first time let's just keep it between us"

He smiled back wanting to stay with u longer, seeing u now in front of him again brought back his old feelings towards u.

U heard ur phone ring on the table behind u "excuse me" u let out softly turning back and stretching to get it without standing from ur seat, exposing ur bare thighs and a faint sight of ur blue panties to Jake whose eyes were boring into u tongue darting on his lower lip , he gulped hands sweating and itching to feel ur soft skin, u smiled at ur succeed attempt to get ur phone seating properly now and answering ur call, Jake's eyes didn't leave u even for a second scanning the way u pout whenever something is not pleasing u, the way u roll the end of ur hair listening to what's been said on the other line, lips smiling from time to time flashing ur white teeth, everything about u was beautiful and he miss having u for himself.

U made eye contact with him in the middle of the call mouthing a sorry, Jake only smiling at u as he waited for ur call to end (but wishing it to take longer so he can drink in ur beautiful features more).

U ended the call that was from one of ur co-workers asking u about some file u wondering why tf they want that in the week end, u sighed looking at Jake noting the way he is looking at u.

"That took longer than i expected sorry"

He didn't budge even when u waved ur hand in front of him, only waking up when he heard ur soft voice calling his name and he almost let a sound out from that "are u okay? U r spacing out a lot" u asked concerned, eyes looking at the way his adam apple boped down before hearing him gulp loudly.

He shakes his head like he was in some sort of trance head dizzy as he inhaled u r fresh smell now that u approached him " m fine dw" u sat next to him, resting ur back on the wall and he followed ur movement head titling to face u " u r still as beautiful as u were" he let out making u blush a little bit as u give him a thank u chewing on ur lips fingers playing with the hem of ur robe.

He massaged his shoulders letting out a small groan and u turned to look at him he really look so tired "do u want me to give u a massage it's gonna help u relax a little bit" u said.

And he stayed still for a minute thinking about ur offer before noding in agreement, u stood up going to take an oil u use whenever u wanna relax "come on lay down" u rushed him and he did "i think it'd be better if u remove ur shirt" u said as he removed it and tossed it somewhere on the bed, u straddled his back he pressed his face on the matress upon feeling ur weight on top of him, his body shivering when the cold oil met his skin ur hands following after, massaging his nerves skilfully, he shut his eyes his body relaxing while releasing soft groans every now and then.

U were so good with ur hands he almost fell asleep if it wasn't for the unintentional scrach he felt on his back, u just continued working ur magic ignoring the way his body squirmed, u smirked a little bit knowing exactly how he liked that, u kept digging ur nails on his skin saying a sorry with a fake pout whenever u do so.

He could feel his muscles tensing up again, his forehead now resting on his hands teeth biting his lower lip not wanting to let a sound out, but it was impossible at this point especially when u brushed ur fingers faintly over his soft spot, u knew his body so well doing the most to get a reaction out of him, ur competitive side kicking out until a moan skipped his lips making u stop ur movements immediately "ohhh?" U said mockingly leaning forward until ur lips met his ears "u r still the same Jakey" he whimpered his hips humping the mattress shamelessly making u chuckle "what are u doing?" U asked faking a confused tone as u moved from his body standing in front of him. Jake titled his head looking at u confusion written all over his face, u cocked an eyebrow at him as he didn't stop his movements his eyes boring into ur body that was all exposed for him at this point, the robe not doing any job at hiding ur skin, the small curls at the end of ur hair still wet arms crossed waiting for him to speak but he didn't, u sighed clenching ur jaw slightly leaning forward lifting his chin with ur index finger "where r u looking? My face is here" u exclaimed wanting to get something out of him but his eyes are fixed on ur lips, u dart ur tongue on them watching how his own mouth is open almost drooling at the sight of you. Jake has always been like that, everything u did used to turn him on, and it looks like nothing changed.

U chuckled softely kneeling on the floor so u can face him blinking slowely as u caressed his cheeks titling ur head and getting closer to him until ur noses touched u were planing to tease him a little bit more but he rushed kissing u like he was starving for years, his lips moving so fast tongue rolling around urs u let go of his cheeks one hand now around his neck while the other one is searching for his hair tugging slightly as he moans in the kiss.

U left his mouth panting for some air, u looked his way and u can't help the heat that went to ur cheeks when u saw him, he looked so fucked out just from a kiss coming closer to kiss u again "so eager" u thought

U kissed him again his hands holding onto ur thighs, Jake now sitting properly without breaking the kiss making u also stand and straddle his lap, u started rolling ur hips slowly his hands following your pace, his thumbs tracing circles on ur inner thighs, ur hand going from his hair to his neck applying a small pressure and he groaned in the kiss.

"Shhh" u warned him and he whined in return making u smile in the kiss as ur hands traveled to his pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them down his knees along with his boxers, he let a deep breath out his body tensing up as he waited for u to touch him, the anticipation killing him.

"Please" he managed to mutter out his dick twitching in the cold air as his head tilted backwards and a sigh left his lips when u wrapped ur hand around his cock.

Ur thumb pressed on his slit collecting the precum that is oozing from it and spreading it along his length, his grip on ur thighs tighten as his body shakes under ur touch, he moaned in the kiss the need of breathing making him part his lips slightly, his moans were so loud despite him trying to stay silent his eyes were rolling to the back of his head.

His hips started moving up to meet ur strokes as his moans increased in volume, u felt him getting close, ur thumb now pressing on his slit again teasing him by stroking the base and going to the top before repeating the same process.

"Baby" he moaned against ur lips as his hips buckled upwards his stomach and chest rising, his hands are gripping ur thighs tightly, his nails digging in ur flesh, his toes curling as his mouth parted in a silent scream the only thing coming out of his mouth was a gasp as his eyes rolled back.

His dick twitched a few times his cum landing on ur robe and his chest, ur eyes were scanning the view, his head was still resting on the bed his eyes closed, his whole body shaking still feeling the waves of his orgasm, he was so sexy like this, and u can't deny that the thought of him getting off just from u stroking him made u so turned on, u were sure that your panties were soaked wet.

He was catching his breath when he felt u getting off his lap, he opened his eyes, his chest moving up and down, his dick still twitching as he saw the mess he made.

"Fuck y/n im sorry" he said trying to grab a tissue but his body was numb and his mind hazy.

U didn't pay him any attention going straight to ur closet pretending to get another robe and discarding the dirty one on the ground.

Jake was looking at u his dick already hardening again his eyes were roaming over ur body his gaze fixated on the curve of ur ass and the way the blue panties hugged ur thighs.

He wanted to eat u alive, he wanted to make u cry out his name, he wanted to fuck u, and u wanted the same, his dick was pulsating against his stomach, and all his senses were focused on u.

U felt his stare, turning back to face him a smirk forming on ur lips as u took a step forward and his hands were instantly on ur waist pulling u down on his lap, he attacked ur neck kissing, biting and sucking on it, he didn't want to leave a mark so he didn't suck for a long time, he went lower until his teeth bit ur collar bone his hands pulling down the new robe as his lips met the top of ur breast leaving kisses and licks.

"Oh" a sigh escaped ur mouth as u tilted ur head backwards, his right hand went down cupping ur clothed pussy while his left hand held onto ur waist for support.

He started moving his fingers, drawing circles on ur clothed clit, he didn't stop the movement of his mouth on ur breast as u started grinding against his hand. Jake was like a starving man, his touches so earger, his actions desperate.

U held onto his shoulders for support as he pushed u back laying on the matress, his body covering ur smaller frame as he started sucking on ur right breast his hand moving away the panties and entering two fingers inside ur pussy making you arch ur back as a gasp left ur lips.

His fingers were hitting the right spot and he went to kiss you again, his mouth making it hard to breathe, the pleasure was too much, ur eyes were watering, and his dick was rubbing against ur thigh, Jake broke the kiss panting like a dog delivering kisses on you stomach as his thumb was circling your clit, u were so sensitive his every move was sending shivers down ur spine, he was so focused on pleasing you, and it wasn't hard for him to get the job done, it's like he has been dreaming about this for a long time, he was now on a face level with your pussy he groaned biting his lips before replacing his thumb with his tongue, a scream slipped your lips and your back arched high in the air, his grip on ur waist was bruising, he didn't want to let go.

He hummed upon tasting you his eyes closed tongue going wild making it hard for you to contain ur moans and u were sure by now that if Heeseung was in his room he 100% have heard you, his room next to urs and that just added to ur heat making u go crazy, you were close by now already worked out just from earlier, Jake's finger went deeper making you let out a cry hands tugging at his hair and he moaned upon that "Cum for me" he mumbled against your pussy, the vibrations of his voice enough to make u reach your peak.

You cried out his name legs shaking uncontrollably, head dizzy, and chest heaving, and Jake didn't stop licking on ur clit not even giving u time to calm down and recover from ur first orgasm, "No-omg" your hands went to pull him away but instead you found them back on his hair pushing his face closer, his tongue was so skilled and u can feel yourself getting close again letting out small cries , the feeling of his tongue was so amazing and u can feel your whole body burning up, it didn't take long before u came again squirting on his face this time.

Jake pulled away his lips wet, face glistening with your juices, his eyes dark, "That's so fucking hot" he muttered licking his lips and wiping his face with his hands, he was looking at you hungrily, his cock red and dripping with precum, you wanted him inside you.

"C'mon here" u said pulling him closer for a sloppy kiss tasting yourself on his tongue as you started moving your hips, both of you were a moaning mess, the need to be close was so strong.

"Jake" u moaned against his lips and he hummed eyes still closed "fuck me" you said and his eyes shot open his mouth hanging open his breath got caught in his throat, and u smiled at him softly you were always a fan of his reactions always acting like he hasn't heard these words before as if it's his first time and you were sure that he was now going crazy, ur words made him feel like his heart is about to explode.

He didn't hesitate to get between your legs, his dick rubbing against ur wet folds as his mouth went to suck on your neck, your hands went to his back leaving red scratch marks as his tip was pressing on your hole, the need to enter was strong his eyes scanning your expressions as he entered you, a satisfied sigh escaped both of you lips, you were so warm and wet around him he didn't have any energy to start slow, his thrusts were hard and rough his hands holding onto the sheets as his hips met yours with a slap, the air was filled with your moans and the sound of skin slapping, the bed creaked underneath you and you could hear it hitting the wall, it's not a surprise if u end up with a hole in the wall, and he was going so fast he didn't give you a chance to adjust his cock hitting the right spots, "fuckk you feel so good Damn" he groaned his hips moving by themselves his head dropped enjoying the way you feel around him, your hands went to his back pulling him closer wanting to feel him deeper, his chest was now touching yours, his skin was so hot and he was sweating a lot, you can see his veins popping his mouth hanging open as his forehead was touching yours, his thrusts becoming more aggressive and it was hard to catch your breath, you can feel yourself getting close for the third time tonight your stomach twisting and your eyes rolling to the back of your head, Jake's hand moved away from the sheets gripping the headboard as he was slamming into you loving how you moan his name, he was close, so close, his dick twitched inside of you.

He was so lost in pleasure he had other plans for you but he forgot about everything focusing only on the delicious feeling of you he swear he hasn't felt this good since being with you, he doesn't know why but u just enjoys it more when it's you, his thrusts were now unrhythmic moaning as his hands went to the pillow and you let out a surprised yelp when his other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair pushing your head back loving how you look for this angle ,his cock was throbbing and pulsating inside you the knot in your stomach was so tight and you could feel yourself reaching your peak, Jake was grunting his eyes shut curses leaving his lips "fuckk fuck fuck" and you could feel the tears building up so sensitive from the previous releases and it was a matter of time before both of you came at the same time, he pulled out after spilling his seeds all over your stomach.

He let go of your hair and collapsed on the bed next to you, both of you were panting your minds were blank and the air was still thick, the room smelled of sex, Jake's hair was sticking to his forehead, his chest was moving up and down, the only sound in the room was the heavy breathing. You were laying there trying to come back from the high, you looked at Jake his eyes closed, his face still sweaty and red, your eyes moved lower, his chest and stomach are covered with his own cum and he didn't seem to mind.

You chuckled "what?" He asked eyes opening to look at you.

"Look at the mess" you said pointing at his stomach, he sat up a little bit checking it out wanting to say something but he stopped after seeing you crawling, ur hands dropping his body back as u leaned down collecting all the cum that was on his body licking it up making sure to leave no trace behind Jake had to slap himself to see if he was dreaming, his eyes were bulging and his mouth was dry 'fuck you are so sexy y/n" it was too much, too many feelings all at once, it was hard to control the heat pooling in his groin and he can feel himself getting hard again, he let a deep breath out when you stopped to show him the cum u collected before swallowing it.

"Fuck so dirty" he said pulling you for a heated kiss, your tongue battling his for dominance, he was already hard again his body was aching for u and u couldn't help but rub your pussy against his shaft.

"Please" he begged, and as much as u wanted him you were sure that your body can't take anymore, already sore from yesterday and the events that took place minutes ago.

"Next time Jakey" u said pecking his lips and he whined, his hands went down to rub your pussy and u let him, u were sure that you can't do it but a few moments later u were bouncing on his cock again.

-

You sighed after what happened Jake stayed with your for a bit helping you move to the shower wanting to help but u stopped him wanting to relax for few minutes and have an alone time and he nodded pecking ur forehead and leaving. You took longer than intended cleaning your body lazily, you went out expecting to find a mess in ur room, ur robe thrown on the ground along with ur panties and the sheets wrinkled but instead everything was neat your clothes on the basket another sheets on the bed and that alone made your day.

Jake was sweet and caring as always and ur heart ached with guilt, ur mind was still in shock from everything but you didn't have the energy to spend a long time thinking, you dressed up wearing a long blue dress with a small slit on your left leg, drying your hair only with a towel putting on some perfume and walking out. U heard some noises on the living room and u followed finding everyone except from Jake and Siyeon sitting on the table having breakfast

Jay's eyes followed your every move his jaw almost dropping, the sight of your thighs driving him insane and it was so unfair, "wow y/n u look so beautiful" Heeseung said devouring you with his eyes and Joy nodded her head while Sunghoon didn't say a thing his eyes scanning u head to toe while stuffing his mouth with food, Joy pulled the chair next to her patting it for you "come on". She is such a sweetheart and u can't help the smile forming on your lips, you took the seat sitting now between her and Sunghoon and across from Heeseung and Jay, a small groan slipping Jay's lips when he saw u sitting so close to Hoon, his eyes were dark remembering yesterday's night but he wanted to take care of you today not liking how he let u go without helping. He grabbed ur plate putting a big amount of various food and handing it to u making u chuckle "i don't think m gonna be able to finish this but thank u" u said softly making him smile as well "enjoy, u need to regain ur energy".

Joy and Heeseung were talking about something but u can't pay attention u didn't realize how much hungry u re until u had ur first bite of food. "I thought u were going out this morning" Heeseung asked eyes not leaving ur face wondering what kind of excuse u'll make after he woke up to ur moans and you could feel ur cheeks heating up remembering the events that took place just few hours ago, u cleared ur throat shaking ur head "i changed my mind" u replied trying to avoid eye contact and laughing awkwardly afterwards, Heeseung grinned nodding his head pretending to believe u "Ahhh i see" he said. Joy's eyes roamed on the table "Where is Siyeon?" she asked particularly no one and Jay answered "She still have things to do at her house but she'll be back this afternoon"

"Where is Jake?" Sunghoon asked after a while and Jay was the one to answer him again "He left few minutes they called him from work"

U nodded, it was obvious that he didn't want anyone to find out, "How did u sleep last night?" Heeseung asked u and Jay chocked on his drink while you almost spit your food, Sunghoon who was taking a sip of his tea was now coughing loudly, Joy turned to look at him her eyebrows raised "are u ok?" She asked and he gave her a thumbs up eyes watering, Heeseung was laughing at the reaction of everyone his eyes meeting with yours and you could feel the heat on ur cheeks. "Oh my god u look like a tomato" he commented still laughing and u kicked his leg with ur feet under the table so embarrassed wishing that a black hole could swallow u and take u away from this place.

Sunghoon was now smirking loving to see u in that state remembering meeting with you yesterday when u were about to head to ur room after getting out of Jay's room sweating, face flushed and lips swollen ur robe closed messily and ur hair was in a very terrible state, u stopped at ur steps upon noticing his shadow turning to see him in front of you and u really tried to act normal but there was no point of that at that rate, so u just decided to do what u do everytime = running to ur room and die from shame! u hated that it's Sunghoon who caught u all the time and u weren't sure that u'd be able to look at him the next day but u managed to do that somehow. The table went silent again until Heeseung spoke again "i was just asking cuz it was too cold yesterday and the heating system wasn't working for me so i went to ask u if it works for u but u wasn't in ur room"

"Ahh yes" u lied "i was probably in the kitchen i got so thirsty and i didn't bring water to my room before sleeping" u mumbled, ur words beating u making Sunghoon laugh again impressed by ur ability to lie that fast. Heeseung and Jay were grinning knowingly, Joy didn't seem to understand the whole situation but she shrugged continuing what she was doing on her phone. U finished eating not daring to lift ur head again rushing to clean the table and do the dishes and u almost tripped, ur legs still sore from earlier if it wasn't for Sunghoon who catched u his hands around your waist holding you close, he chuckled his lips next to your ear his hot breath tickling you "are u still thirsty?" he whispered making u push him away chewing on ur lips, he chuckled again "just kidding watch out ur steps" he said tickling ur chin and leaving, making u freeze on ur spot questioning wtf was that about before walking out to the kitchen.

Jay followed u the thought of u doing the dishes while obviously looking tired not clicking with him, he insisted to do them instead asking u to have a rest in ur room, u sighed defeated and went back to the living room not wanting to spend ur time alone knowing that u'll just gonna be having unnecessary thoughts so u hopped on the couch laying there next to Joy who was watching some random insta reels and she smiled creating more space for you "what are u watching?" u asked her softly, Joy positioned her phone to match it with ur sight "just some reels" and u nodded watching videos with her while talking about some random stuff, u sighed the mic on ur back making u uncomfortable, "u should sit in the middle" Joy suggested but u shook your head "it's fine" you replied and Joy frowned not satisfied but she didn't say anything.

After some minutes Sunghoon walked to the living room sitting accross from you, his eyes not leaving ur body and u tried not to meet his gaze, his stare was so intense and intimidating and u wished he ignored u like earlier, "y/n" he called your name and ur heart skipped a beat it was probably the first time u heard ur name skip his lips, Joy looked at him raising her eyebrow but watching ur interaction quietly "yes?" u answered voice almost unheard and Sunghoon smiled, he loves when ur all shy and awkward with him, he cleared his throat before speaking "u wanna go on a date with me?" he asked u making ur eyes widen u certainly was not expecting this from him especially and u were wondering for a second if u've heard him correctly "uh?" u managed to let out and Joy couldn't stop herself from giggling next to you, Sunghoon didn't lose his charming smile making ur insides melt not even bothering to repeat his question, u looked at Joy for help, this situation almost awkward, she was smiling at you encouraging you to give him an answer, "umm... sure" u said after some moments, Sunghoon was waiting patiently and he seemed happy with your reply and Joy clapped her hands excitedly "great then it's settled" she said and u could feel yourself drowning, not knowing what to do and what to expect ur face as red as Joy's phone case ur eyes still looking at Sunghoon who didn't drop his smile now smirking at u, his eyes so intense making u question ur respond "i hope i don't regret that" u mumbled only for u to hear.

This part has been sitting in my drafts for a long time sorry :( but yeah this was not how i wrote this part originally nd it really sucks that i didn't save it but yeah hope u enjoy ^^ the next part is gonna be super intense, spoiler: it'll be both Sunghoon and Heeseung focused and oh god this duo is a lot!

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Little Snake 🐍 (Ominis x F!MC)

This is based off a weird little head cannon I had in my head and in my drafts for a while, but I never got around to writing anything for it. There was chatter about starting a weekly prompt in the Ominis server I'm in. The theme was supposed to be "family" so I thought it was a great opportunity to finally post this. This is definitely gonna be another "not for everyone" fic and I apologize for that! I have plans for a dark!Omi fic soon enough, cause I've been on a dark!Omi kick lately. But for now, enjoy!

Little Snake - Ominis x F!MC - 3k words || Summary: After two years of marriage, MC and Ominis are ready to start a family together, but they learn about their new bundle of joy in an unconventional way.

Warnings: NSFW/18+ - Characters are aged up and married - Minors DNI || parseltongue k!nk || slight br33ding k!nk || slight dominis || Pr3gnancy talk || Slight angst and slight fluff || this fic has a little bit of everything basically || Also yes, I know it doesn't happen that fast in reality, but this is fiction.

______________________________

With the last utensil placed in its spot on the table, everything was set up for tonight. MC took a step back to admire her handiwork before she’d need to rush upstairs to get showered and dressed, desperate to be ready for when Ominis arrived home.  

Today was their two year wedding anniversary, and she was eager to celebrate. They didn’t do much celebrating their first year, with Ominis starting a new job with the ministry, coupled with the constant fear of being discovered by his parents. They weren’t supposed to be together let alone married, due to their conflicting blood statuses. So they eloped, running away and finding a new place to call home, which they fortified with a variety of protection charms. It still didn’t feel like enough, and a year later, they still had their worries. But they were now going on two years without having been found, and they had finally begun to relax a bit. 

She was hopeful that tonight the conversation of their future would go better than it did the first year. When they were wed, Ominis was receptive to the idea of children, much to the surprise of his wife. Ominis believed it would be a great opportunity to raise a Slytherin heir who knew nothing of dark magic and their family’s dark history. Although, he still remained fearful of being discovered by his family.  On their one year, she had brought the topic up, much to the dissatisfaction of Ominis. The conversation got heated, and ended in an argument. Although the argument was resolved quickly, feelings were hurt nonetheless. Ominis did still want a child, but his fear was still very present. So she dropped it, a sadness taking over her as she longed for motherhood, but she let it go, understanding fully why her husband felt the way he did, and deciding to bring it up again a year later, when they felt safer. 

—————————

An hour later, she was showered and dressed, opting for a silky black dress that hugged her curves, an equally flattering set of black lacy lingerie underneath it. It may seem silly for her to care this much about her appearance, since Ominis couldn’t see it, but he could feel it. She briefly began to fantasize about it - Ominis’s hands roaming her body. Feeling the silky fabric between his fingers before slowly sliding the garment off to be met with the lacy fabric of the lingerie, followed by the feeling of her bare skin. She felt a heat begin to rise through her, and had just slipped her hand between her legs when she heard the sound of the front door opening. 

They greeted each other, their lips meeting in a heated exchange. Ominis’s hands came up to her waist, taking in the fabric of her dress just as she had fantasized. He pulled away to catch his breath. “Hello, darling! I missed you today. Seemed like you got dressed up for me.” He said the last part with a sultry tone to his voice as his hands squeezed her hips. 

“I did. And if you like the dress, you should feel what’s underneath it!” Her voice was equally as sultry. Ominis let out a dark chuckle as he pulled her back in for a kiss, backing her into a nearby wall. They moaned against each other’s lips as arousal began to creep up on them both, Ominis’s hand still rested on her hip, while the other worked its way up her thigh, hiking up her dress in the process.

But unfortunately for her, she was hit with a realization. “Ominis, wait! I made us dinner! Let’s pick this up later.” 

________________________

After a multi-course dinner with a variety of Ominis’s favorite meals, the couple were snuggled on their loveseat in front of their fireplace, his arm wrapped around her waist, her head resting on his chest. 

“Ominis…” she started, sitting up to look directly at him. “I was…hoping we could talk…”

Ominis sighed in reply, fully aware of where this conversation was going. “Darling. We’ve been lucky for two years. Should we really be pushing our luck? A child will only make it harder for us to stay safe. I’m not sure if we should do this.” 

Her heart ached at his words, tears starting to form in her eyes. Without another word she got up, dismissing herself and heading upstairs to their bedroom. She could hear Ominis calling out to her, but she ignored him, throwing herself face first onto the bed, her pillow quickly becoming damp from her tears. It only took a few minutes before Ominis came up to join her, sitting himself on the bed next to her, stroking her hair as she sobbed. 

“My love, please. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I know you want a child, and believe me I do too. I just want our child to be safe. I never wanted this life for you. To have to live in fear of my family. I wish we could just start our family without any worries.” She could hear Ominis’s voice hitching, as if he was on the verge of tears himself. She sat up and hugged his back, resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“Darling. I willingly chose this life, because I chose you. I’d choose being on the run for the rest of my life with you rather than living in safety without you. I know the risks. But I believe we’ll be okay. If they were going to find us, they would have already. And if they do, I’ll stop at nothing to keep my family safe, you and our little snake.” She nuzzled into his neck, planting soft kisses on his skin. 

Ominis turned to face his wife’s direction. “As would I. I’d do anything to keep you safe. I’d go so far as to cast an unforgivable curse if need be to keep you safe, same goes for our child. Though I pray that day never comes, we must always be ready if it ever does.” 

Her hands came up to either side of his face. She stared lovingly into his milky blue eyes, the eyes that captivated her the first time she met him under the blue glow of the lake that poured into the windows of the Slytherin common room. From that moment on, she loved Ominis, and would do anything for him. “I know, darling. And even knowing that, I still want this. I want this with you.” 

Ominis thought for a moment before reaching for his wife’s hands. They were small and soft under his own, and he began to rub small circles into her palm with his thumb. 

“Then we shall. We’ll start a family. But promise me something - our child will not be raised as a typical Gaunt. They’ll grow up a kind Slytherin, no dark magic, no pureblood supremacy, none of it. My hope is that they won’t even be sorted into Slytherin when the time comes with how different from my family we’ll raise them. But, let's have tonight for ourselves. No more fighting, no more talk of children, just us. We’ll start this process tomorrow. Natty still works as a nurse, correct? I’ll take you to her, make sure you’re healthy and get you all the fertility potions you need. Take your birth control potion tonight, but starting tomorrow, you won’t need it anymore.”

Her eyes began to sting as tears formed in them. She threw her arms around Ominis and kissed him softly and lovingly. The kiss quickly turned passionate as Ominis returned her enthusiasm. His hands found their way to his wife’s waist before he lightly pushed her to lay on her back on the bed. He made quick work of his own clothes, stripping down completely before his hands glided up her satin dress once more, pulling it over her head with ease. Finally his hands got to meet the promised lingerie, as his fingers grazed across the lacy fabric. He took a moment to enjoy the feel of the material before removing it as well. 

He wasted no time spreading her legs and plunging in. She let out a symphony of moans as his tongue circled her clit and his fingers slid inside of her. Ominis groaned against her, still not having gotten used to her taste after all these years together. Even after she had prepared the most delicious dinner he’d ever had tonight, he still preferred the taste of her sweet nectar over anything. Her walls began to tighten around his fingers and he took that as his cue, speeding up his pumping, while still continuing to suck and lick at her. Her hands had already come down into his hair, and her grip tightened as she came, a scream of his name falling from her lips. 

After allowing her a few moments to come down from her high, Ominis sat up on his knees. “Turn around, my love. Get on your hands and knees” his voice was low and laced with lust. She did as she was told, and Ominis used his hands to line himself up with her body. He gripped her hip with one hand, and gripped his cock in the other, taking a deep breath before pushing himself into her. She let out a moan at the stretch, but her body welcomed him as it always did. His pace was steady, as he slammed into her, pulling out slowly and almost all the way before slamming back into her. Her arms began to feel weak, so she got down to her elbows, which allowed Ominis to go deeper into her, much to his satisfaction. 

“You want me deeper inside of you, huh? Such a sweet little whore for me. So desperate and so needy for my cock!”

Ominis had spoken, except it wasn’t words that came out of him, but several long, drawn out hissing sounds. He had a delicious habit of speaking to his wife in parseltongue when he was especially aroused, and she let out a moan in appreciation, eager to hear more of it. He continued to fuck her, his hand reaching up into her hair to pull her body slightly up. 

“Oh, such a naughty girl. You love when I speak to you like this. I know you can come just from it. Come for me, darling. You’re so close I can feel it!” 

She was panting hard as Ominis picked up his pace. She had no idea what he had said, and she never did, but she felt her walls tighten once again as her second orgasm approached. With another scream of his name, she came. But he didn’t give her any time to recover this time, his pace getting even rougher as he chased his own release. It hit a few moments later as his body tensed up and he released into her with a whimper of her name. She let out a soft sigh as he filled her, feeling his cock throbbing within her. She wished that this was the moment he was impregnating her, but that would have to wait. And she could wait. He was ready for it, they both were, and she would be happy whenever it happened. 

Once the two of them had caught their breaths and cleaned themselves up, they snuggled up in their bed, arms wrapped around each other, her head resting on his chest as his fingers absentmindedly twirled strands of her hair. Her ears filled with the steady sound of his heart beat, and it relaxed her, knowing how it beat for her. 

“I love you darling.” Ominis said as he continued to play with her hair. “…and I can’t wait for our future together.” 

She sat up, planting a soft kiss on his lips before bringing her head back to its position on his chest. “I love you too! Happy anniversary my love!” 

“Happy anniversary.” He whispered, his voice sleepy as he succumbed to his tiredness. 

________________

The promise of visiting Natty did not come that week, as Ominis was given an assignment the following day at work that took up most of his day. By the time he arrived home, the pair were too tired to go anywhere and too tired to even try. MC was a little disappointed, but not upset, as she understood the stress of Ominis’s job. Ominis on the other hand was not particularly happy about his predicament, having already gotten excited about the prospect of a baby. 

A week and a half after their anniversary, after a particularly grueling day, Ominis stormed into their home, finding his wife tending to the kitchen. He said nothing to her, but immediately grabbed her, slamming his lips into hers in a heated kiss. “Get upstairs now, we’re doing this. Tonight.”

“But Ominis, I thought you wanted to go see Natty about-“

“Oh fuck that! I’m tired of waiting! Upstairs. NOW.”

She felt her arousal hit her hard, she loved when Ominis was aggressive with her. She took his hand and they dashed upstairs, undressing at a tremendous speed. She threw herself on to the bed and immediately spread her legs, eager for Ominis to take her. 

And he did. He slid into her with ease, jumping straight into a rough pace. All Ominis wanted to do was fuck his frustration with his job out on her, while fucking a baby into her.

“Such a good girl! You sound so pretty moaning for me, begging me to keep going. Moan louder for me! I want to hear you sssscream for me.”

She obeyed his command, screaming his name and moaning, her moans being her encouragement for him to continue. 

“Sssso perfect. You take my cock so well, darling! Such a pretty little whore. You love this don’t you? You love when I fuck you like this.”

Her mind was completely blank and blissed out as he continued his ruining of her. She struggled for several minutes to form a coherent sentence before she spoke. 

“Yesss! I love the way you fuck me, darling! It feels ssso good! I love being a good little whore for you.”

Ominis’s eyes grew wide as he stopped in his tracks and pulled out of her, sitting back on his knees. He was unsure if he actually heard what he just heard, or if he was losing his mind. 

“My love, did you just…speak parseltongue?” His voice laced with concern.

She sat up and looked at him, confused. “What? I don’t know how to speak parseltongue?”

“I just spoke to you in parseltongue, TWICE, and you responded IN PARSELTONGUE. Did you understand what I said to you?”

“Yes but, I’m pretty sure you spoke in English because there’s no way I know parseltongue. You said it yourself. It’s a language only heirs of Slytherin know, and I am not an heir of Slytherin and you’ve never taught me it, so it’s impossible.”

“If you can understand this, tell me.”

Without thinking, she responded to her husband, but instead of her normal voice falling from her lips, a string of hisses fell instead, she didn’t feel in control of her own mouth. She gasped as her hands shot up to her mouth, fear painting her face. 

“Ominis?” She spoke, almost on the verge of tears, but in English this time. “What’s happening?”

Ominis sat in thought, taking his wife’s hands and squeezing them before realization hit him. He spoke slowly. 

“You're not an heir of Slytherin, but our child would be...”

Her jaw practically hit the floor as the realization hit her as well. The pair seemed to share a moment of legilimency as they both wordlessly shot up from the bed, dressed, and dashed out the door, apparating as soon as they crossed the threshold outside their home. 

When they landed, she took a hold of her husband’s hand and dragged him up to the home they had landed nearby. She tried to keep her knocking as non-aggressive as possible, but it was difficult with how her hands were shaking. Natty opened the door to find one of her closest friends, unable to contain her emotion any longer as tears of joy began to fall from her eyes.

“Natty, I need you to check me over, I think I might be pregnant!”

_______________________

A half hour later, the three of them were on the couch of Natty’s living room, Natty having made them tea to calm them down. MC’s empty teacup was in Natty’s hands as she examined the tea leaves left behind. 

“Oh MC! This is wonderful news! You are indeed with child! You’re incredibly early in the process, however. Your baby only appears to be a few days old, how did you even know?”

She watched as her excited husband, who had tears running down his cheeks, took in a deep breath, preparing himself for the reveal of his family’s ability that she now possessed because their child did. An ability that she would continue to possess throughout the duration of her pregnancy. But she knew better, fully aware her husband wasn’t fond of having this talent outside of their bedroom activities. 

“I just had a hunch.” She smiled, wiping her own tears from her eyes.

_________________________

Once they were back in their bed, they laid wrapped in each other’s arms. She sat up slightly, staring into her husband’s blue eyes, still wet with tears. “I can’t believe this is actually happening” She whispered, planting a quick peck on his lips. 

Ominis let out a soft sigh. “I can’t wait, but promise me, darling. If our little snake ever inquires about how you came to discover you were pregnant, PLEASE lie to them.” 

They both giggled in unison as she nuzzled into him, bidding each other goodnight and falling asleep, one of Ominis’s hands wrapped around his wife, and the other resting on her stomach.

______________________

[olderthannetfic]

I don't get my fandom. They want more queer rep. The main cast is a bisexual femme woman with a preference for women, an aroace gender-indifferent AMAB man, a genderfluid all-pronouns using AMAB person with a beard who wears a dress, and a biromantic asexual bigender AMAB man who is agender + male. The supporting cast has a lesbian girl, a middle-aged ace het woman living semi-romantically with another woman who is the main cast's (emotional) adoptive mom, and a ambiguously queer character whose gender is never really confirmed or discussed.

A big criticism I also see is "the writing team is all cishet". One, we don't know that, someone could be closeted. Two, why is that a problem? I think it's great that they went, "this makes sense for who this character is. We don't have to force them to be cishetallo just because that's what you normally see in animation. Web animation can be different. This is who this person is and that's fine."

I'm 19. I talked to my half brother, who is 38, about this and he actually choked on his coffee. He said when he was my age, nothing like this was easily accessible for him. It would have been jaw-dropping representation for him. I asked about the writers being cishetallo and he said, "who fucking cares? I would've moved Heaven and Earth to see these characters hanging out and just fucking existing back then!"

I know you get a metric fuckton of asks, but I'd love to hear your take on this. You've been in the queer community way longer than I have (I've barely started interacting with queer people IRL; I grew up in rural Wyoming) and I do wonder what this debacle looks like to people in other age groups. I'd also be curious to know what older people would've thought if they'd seen this friend group in media when they were younger. I know it means a lot to me. But I feel like I don't get what it would have meant back then.

--

Well, written up like this, it might get an eye-roll for sounding like Captain Planet casting. (You know "One of A and one of B and one of C" in a way that feels kind of forced.)

But yes, I think most older queer people when looking at the actual canon would be like "Sweet! A cast full of queer characters!"

I grew up somewhere shockingly liberal for the 90s next door to some old, married lesbians (who still live there, as it happens). It still sucked for teenagers. I had an okay time, but I was always hearing about other teens having an awful time even as the adults in the same communities did okay. And that's a very, very good version of what it was like in the 90s.

I did have access to queer media, vastly more access than most teens had. It was still mostly art films, boring coming out memoir, and The Pain of Being a Minority serious literature. What I wanted was genre fiction with a romance b-plot between queer characters I found hot. There was a bit of that, but not much.

I don't know that I personally would have killed for the exact set of queer rep in a modern show, but that makes sense. There are plenty of identities that present about the same but where people have internal reasons for choosing one or another. There are different forces making one queer identity or another more embattled at a given point in time. So while broadly similar queer people have always existed, there actually are fads in identity to an extent. (This is different from "wharrgarbl, the blue hairs with their pronouns!!!", which is just people being ahistorical assholes.) Modern media does and should reflect these differences. It might be for me, but it's going to be for 40-something me, not teenage me if it's coming out right now. If it's for current teens, it's not for teen me.

But yeah, in a general sense, I agree with your brother: "Damn, we have so much today! That's cool!"

The kvetching is usually people being angry that it's not representing their exact slice of queerness instead of someone else's. Or, let's be honest, a lot of it is "You didn't make my ship happen! How dare?!" dressed up as activism.

...

One thing I will say is that teenagers were extremely dramatic in my day too, and black-and-white thinking was just as common. Looking a gift horse in the mouth is not new. Yes, your fandom is full of idiots, but I wouldn't read too much into it.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

If the Shoe Fits, Then I Won’t Try It On

Omg I made it! Threw this one together today, so might not be my best! But thanks to my pal @every-moment-a-different-sound making these gorgeous gifs for my fic Outside Looking In, and also @wordsinhaled writing this lovely little fic inspired by it, I felt compelled to pop back in and give the disguise altar egos a little love! So this one is set pre-canon, about seven years into the boys' friendship/detective agency, and it's the first outing of the disguises (in their very early and imperfect forms! I like to think Charles has been experimenting over the years and the ones we've seen in show are just like, the latest versions!). It can really only be called case fic by the barest technicality but it's the best I got xD There's some nebulous Edwin gender-feelings, I'll leave it up to your personal preferences/interpretation whether it's a bit of transfem/nonbinary/genderqueer joy or just a boy's formative experience with drag, this baby can fit so much gender!! And references to fictionalised alcohol abuse, gambling and infidelity, but it's all just banter and tall tales, really. 2k, T-rated, also available on Ao3. Thanks again, @painlandweek!

"Perhaps we ought to rethink this strategy," Edwin muttered, fussing with his skirts.

"Relax, it'll be fine," said Charles. "No one's gonna suspect anything."

"They may suspect something," said Edwin. His voice sounded different, but the tone was one Charles had heard a thousand times before — pessimistic and haughty. Edwin seemed to pick up extra helpings of poshness when he was rattled. "They needn’t ascertain the exact nature of our ruse to know we're playing one."

"What? You think they're gonna be expecting someone to go in for fake marriage counselling?" Charles laughed.

"Stranger things have happened, Charles." Edwin spread his hand and swept it, gesturing between them and their magical disguises. "Q.E.D."

Charles looked at him blankly.

"Quod erat demonstrandum."

"Mate. They haven't taught Latin in that school for donkey's years."

Edwin made a noise of frustration — it had a bit of a high pitched, trilling quality with his fancy new vocal chords. "What I mean to say is that you and I are — figuratively speaking — living proof that real life is stranger than fiction."

"Well, yeah. But only to people who know ghosts exist," Charles reasoned. "And if this lady knew that, our client wouldn't've needed to come to us, would she? She'd've haunted the information out of her already."

Edwin exhaled, a quick, nasal huff like a bull, and pinched the bridge of his nose. His fingers bumped the chunky plastic frames of his enchanted glasses. "Pity. If she could see us, there'd be no need of these ridiculous costumes."

"I think we look brills," Charles beamed, proudly straightening out his big red rain mac. Sure, the disguises weren't perfect — he was still getting the hang of tweaking the enchantment. And yeah, he'd ballsed up his own bald spot at first, made it too big and just a little bit sort of... Australia-shaped. But all in all, he thought they looked mint! No one was gonna suspect them of anything, couple of old geezers. Who'd think they were a crack detective team?

Edwin was obviously having a harder time settling into character. He kept on faffing about with his unfamiliar layers of flowy clothing. Kept tugging on his little blue cashmere scarf, changing his mind on the drape of it — getting thrown whenever a tug of the fabric dislodged the waves of hair on his shoulders. Charles really hadn't got the hang of hair, just yet. He'd been aiming for something a bit classic and classy for Edwin, something honey-blonde and neatly coiffed. Instead he'd ended up with straw-like, brittle strands of peroxide white with... maybe just a hint of green. Charles would have to get that sorted out sharpish before they brought these disguises out again. Edwin would never let himself walk around looking less than his best if he had any say in it!

Charles turned to him, properly, grabbing Edwin's restless hands away from his scarf. "Eds. You look fine. Nice, even! Leave it."

Edwin glared at him, brow wrinkled. If Charles was being honest, the weirdest thing about seeing Edwin like this wasn't the fact that he looked blonder or older or, well. Like a woman. No, weirdest thing by far was how much thinner his eyebrows were. Charles had probably made them a bit too thin, he'd have to fix that, too. They were decent eyebrows! Visible, at least. But they were skinny and pale and neatly plucked, no little dusty dark hairs in between. Charles sort of missed them. He'd gotten used to those thick, dark brows scrunching up at him like grumpy caterpillars when Edwin was ticked off about something.

"It hardly matters if I look nice, Charles," he said, with a little belligerent flick of his hair that sent it flying. Charles probably should've made him a hairband or something — all long and loose, Edwin couldn't seem to get his hair off his mind. "But I do need to look convincing."

"You do! It's a good disguise, mate — made it special, didn't I?"

"I never said it wasn't." Edwin sighed, eyes fluttering closed a moment. Charles winced — maybe he'd overdone it a bit with the eyeshadow. There was a bit of colour-clashing going on, but hey-ho. Sort that in the next edit, too. "I am not concerned with the quality of the work, Charles."

"What is it, then?" asked Charles, dropping Edwin's hands to squeeze his shoulders instead. "What's got you all het up?"

Edwin shifted on his feet. His high heels clicked on the concrete porch. "I am merely concerned that I'm not... wearing it well," he said, a little bit through his teeth. "I don't want to compromise the entire investigation because I'm unable to act in a... befitting manner."

"Well, you're not gonna. Mate, you're doing brills." Charles smoothed down the big, floppy collar on Edwin's trenchcoat — he tried to do a Casablanca thing, but he might've gone a bit overboard — and grinned at him. "You're a natural. The way you stand all straight and that. Christ, you could've been walking in them heels for years! You're smashing it. For reals."

Edwin ducked his head, with the smallest smile. It was so Edwin that Charles could almost see the shape of him through the disguise; high, sharp bones under those rouged apple cheeks. Could almost spy that little spot on his chin. Actually, the chin wasn't a million miles off Edwin's own, with that barely noticeable little dimple in the middle. Maybe Charles had been taking some inspiration, subconsciously.

"I don't come across... peculiar?" asked Edwin.

"No. 'Course not." Charles sighed and patted his shoulders. "But look. If it's too weird for you, I can be the girl."

Edwin's brow twitched.

Alright. So maybe Charles could've worded that better. He coughed and took a step back, shoving hands in his pockets. "I mean, y'know. Bet I can manage it. How hard can it be? Probably won't be as like, chic as you, but I could give it a go."

Edwin pursed his lips, looking off to the side. He was fiddling with the rings on his fingers — maybe Charles had overdone them too, a bit.

"It... doesn't feel strange," said Edwin, quiet as a mouse. He couldn't seem to look Charles in the eyes. "It doesn't feel strange at all."

Charles smiled, all warm in the chest. Edwin had been a closed-off, buttoned-up sort of chap as long as Charles had known him — seven years and counting. Every time he offered up something of himself, Charles wanted to cup it in his hands.

"Oi," he said, gently, waiting for Edwin to look at him. "Suits you, mate."

Edwin smiled again, a barely-there twitch of his tinted lips. But he gathered himself quickly, clearing his throat and adjusting his scarf. "Well. We'd best be be getting on. We're due for our 'appointment' any minute now."

"Right."

"Shall we walk through the plan once more?"

"Go in, introduce ourselves, spin a backstory for a bit, make her think we're legit," said Charles. "Angle for a bit of one-on-one time. I keep talking, see if I can get her to slip up, drop us a hint — while you sneak off, search the office."

"Spot on," said Edwin, with a brisk nod. "According to our client, this woman writes down everything. No doubt she stores her more sensitive journals somewhere apart from the rest, somewhere discreet. Find the journals..."

"Find the body," Charles agreed, tilting his head side to side to crack his neck. "She'll have written down what she did with it for sure."

"Precisely. Right. That's the aim." Edwin steepled his fingers. "And we are...?"

"Edie and Colin Cromley," Charles replied, automatic. He should bloody well hope he knew that one — he'd had to put up with Edwin calling him Colin all night, trying to get him into character.

"Correct. And we are here because of discord in our marriage, resulting in my alcohol dependence and your extramarital affair."

Charles frowned. "Right..."

Edwin cocked his head a little. "Is there a problem?"

"You, uh. You ever actually been drunk before, mate?"

"Not as such, no," said Edwin, primly. "But, as we've quite thoroughly ascertained, I've never been a woman before, either."

Charles snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Fair point."

Edwin's manicured finger hovered over the doorbell. "Right. Are we quite ready?"

"Yeah," Charles mumbled, fidgeting on his feet. "Yeah, s'pose."

Slowly, Edwin lowered his hand. "Charles. We must be on the same page if we're to go inside and sell a convincing fiction."

"Just... feels a bit weird, is all."

"Why? You've always enjoyed undercover work in the past."

Charles shrugged. "Just... feels off. I wouldn't do that to you, y'know? Cheat, I mean. If we were married."

Edwin stared at him. "But we're... not married."

"Yeah, obviously." Charles felt all hot in the face, embarrassed. He should've just kept his big mouth shut. "Just saying, like — I wouldn't mess around on you like that. Or anyone," he added, quickly, because he was making things weird again, fuck's sake —

"Charles," said Edwin, amused. "Are you having ethical qualms about the character you're playing in this scenario?"

And alright, yeah. It sounded bloody ridiculous when you put it like that. Charles huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Just — it's hard, yeah? Dunno how I'd even pretend I'd screw you around like that."

Edwin hummed, toying thoughtfully with the dangly end of his scarf. "Perhaps... I could play the unfaithful partner?"

"You want to?"

"... No. No, not particularly." He pressed his fists together. "Hm. Perhaps infidelity is the wrong narrative for Mr. and Mrs. Cromley."

"Not believable, is it?"

Edwin chuckled. "No. No, I suppose not. Hm. Back to the drawing board..."

Charles mulled it over, tugging on his earlobe. "How about... right, okay, how about, yeah, if I have a secret gambling problem?"

"That does feel more authentic — we've had plenty of words about your impulsive decision-making," Edwin teased. He nodded, eyes sharp as he formulated the new story in that big brain of his. "Very well, a gambling problem is it. You've been losing money at the races —"

"Reckon I'm more of a footie bloke. Big bets on the big games."

"You've been losing money at various sporting events," Edwin corrected, rolling his eyes. "And the extent of your debt has recently come to my attention."

"You should see how much I lost on the cricket world cup," said Charles, seriously.

"Oh, believe you me, I did. Hence, marriage counselling."

"And boozing."

"Indeed. I knew the problem needed addressing a month ago," said Edwin, fingers gesticulating as he spun his little yarn. "When I visited our local public house for a consolatory tipple and became positively sozzled on sherry."

Charles chuckled. "Sure you wanna go with sherry?"

"Is it not appropriate?"

"I mean. It's fine," said Charles, raising his hands. "Nothing wrong with it! Just doesn't sound like your usual sort of, uh, blackout drunk sort of booze. Never heard of anyone going on a sherry bender."

"Well, what would be your suggestion?" Edwin challenged.

Charles wasn't actually sure, come to think of it. What did middle-aged classy ladies drink to get sloshed? "Um... well. Me and the lads used to get pissed on White Lightning after school."

"Very well, then. I overindulged on White Lightning. Happy?"

"Aces."

"Right. Well, now that's all straightened out..." Edwin lifted his finger to the bell again. "Shall we?"

"Go for it."

Edwin rang the bell — and when he dropped his hand, Charles picked it up. Edwin looked at him, quizzical.

"What?" said Charles. "Meant to be a couple, in't we?"

"One in the throes of marital strife," said Edwin, a little smile on his lips. "I doubt we'll be expected to be affectionate."

"Right. 'Course not," Charles agreed — but he didn't let go.

Edwin chuckled, and stayed put. His hand felt small, smaller than it ever had the few times Charles had held it — usually when he was hauling Edwin out of harm's way. Small and bony, lined with soft wrinkles, dotted in sun spots. Couldn't be much further from Edwin's long, lean, smooth hands if it tried.

But it fit in Charles' hand just the same.

~~

Hope you liked it! Probs won't be one tomorrow unless I can whip up something suuuuper short/quick or I find an existing WIP to polish off, but there'll defo be fic on Sunday! Thank you so much for all your love and comments I seriously appreciate them beyond words 💛💛💛💛💛💛

[itsawritblr]

Fuck "sensitivity readers."

I see that a couple of my Followers and other writers on here are obsessed with writing POC "correctly."

As a full-time professional writer of fiction and nonfiction who's also Hapa, I need to point out:

So you're paranoid that you're gonna write something and POC are going to come after you, calling you "racist" or "insensitive" or that you're "appropriating culture."

The only reply you need to make is in 2 steps:

Say:

Then:

There's is no "right way" to write any group of people or any race or ethnicity. Know why?

I've seen this happen. A Black writer will tell white writers how to write Blacks. Then another Black writer will say, "Wait a minute, I'm not like that, my family's not like that. We're not all Urban BLM hip-hop lovers. I'm Christian, I'm against trans in women's spaces, I have several White friends, and I listen to classic country music."

So who's right? Both.

A "sensitivity reader" or some on this hellsite will tell you HOW to write POC. When all they're telling you is their POV. They can't speak for everyone. (A perfect example.)

If you want to write about a person of a race or ethnicity other than your own, sure, do a little research, as you would with anything. If a sensitivity reader tells you your Jewish character should be celebrating Shabbat, a little research on your own will tell you that not all Jews do (as it happens, I learned this from my Jewish boyfriend, whose family never celebrated Shabbat). So that "sensitivity reader" would have given you misinformation because of her or his POV.

Do not panic that you're gonna be canceled or yelled at for "getting it wrong."

There IS no wrong. Look,

All you need to remember is:

Writer and screenwriter Anthony Horowitz was told not to write Black characters because he's white and Jewish. This stunned him. He was supposed to leave Black characters out of his work? But if he did that he'd be accused of not having Black characters.

He didn't obey. In fact, I'm reading his current novel, and he has a perfectly fine Black character in it.

Read this article:

No, Authors Should Not Be Constrained By Gender Or Race In The Characters They Create. by Lorraine Devon White, Contributor

This was the BBC.com headline:

Spy Author Anthony Horowitz ‘Warned Off’ Creating Black Character:

Author Anthony Horowitz says he was “warned off” including a black character in his new book because it was “inappropriate” for a white writer. The creator of the Alex Rider teenage spy novels says an editor told him it could be considered “patronising” ... Horowitz, who has written 10 novels featuring teenage spy Alex Rider, said there was a “chain of thought” in America that it was “inappropriate” for white writers to try to create black characters, something which he described as “dangerous territory”.

Dangerous territory, indeed.

What are we to make of this? Is an author limited to only writing characters within their race? What about gender? Religion? Age? Ethnicity? Sexual orientation? Where do the boundaries stop?

The old adage, “write what you know,” is a thesis that implies a writer should limit their imagination to the parameters of their own life and experience. But does that maxim still hold true today? Certainly in these times of viral accessibility, contact, research, knowledge, and interaction with people, places, and things far outside our own proximity is as every-day as 24/7 updates from the farthest corners of the globe. Our ability, consequently, to gain perspective sufficient enough to write outside one’s own “house” is not only doable, but, perhaps, universal and insightful, presuming one does it well.

But is it “patronizing”? Are we, as writers, simply not allowed to write outside, say, our culture, regardless of how well we might do it? Has society become so compartmentalized, so hypersensitive, politically correct, and wary of triggering repercussion, resentment, or misinterpretation that reaching beyond our own skin ― literally and figuratively – has become verboten to us as creative artists?

Interesting questions, these; particularly when you consider that men have been writing about women since time immemorial without particular societal concern that they couldn’t possibly know, couldn’t authentically muster, the requisite experiential perspective. It was a given that they could get the job done; accepted without debate. Yet the specificity, the sensitive and unique nature of being female, could be considered as disparate from the male experience as being black is to a white person, but that hasn’t stopped male authors, from Vladimir Nabokov to Wally Lamb, from creating their women of note.

Which is fair. Because the explicit job of an author is to climb inside the experience of LIFE, real or imagined, to tell compelling stories that reflect the incalculable diversity of detail, nuance, thought, and emotion of any variety of people, places, and things. And the creative mind can find and translate authenticity whether writing about Martians, coquettish teens, dogs who play poker, or characters who exactly mirror the author‘s gender or race.

I’ve had my own experience with this interesting conundrum: my last novel, Hysterical Love, was told through the first-person point-of-view of a thirty-three-year-old man, and it goes without saying: I’m not one of those. Yet I felt completely capable of infusing my story with authenticity by relying on my skills of observation, as well as my experiential knowledge as the sister of five men, the mother of a son, the wife of a man; my years on the road with rock bands, and the immersive research of being a close friend to many, many men throughout my life. I’ve been told I pulled it off, even by the men who’ve read it, so my conviction proved out.

But is the divide between cultures, races, wider than that of gender diversity? Does a white writer delegitimize their prose by including black characters? Is the reverse true?

I don’t think so. I think it depends on the writer, the quality of their work; the depth and sensitivity of their depictions. Those are my initial responses. But I also understand the question:

About two years ago I had an article up at HuffPost titled, “No, White People Will Never Understand the Black Experience,” a piece that became a flashpoint for much conversation on the topic of race. It was written in response to events of the time, particularly the egregious injustice of Sandra Bland’s arrest and subsequent (and inexplicable) jailhouse death, and the cacophony that arose amongst, amidst, and between parties on both sides of the racial divide as a result. My own thesis, my perspective on the tangible limitations we each have in perceiving and assessing the realities of life outside ourselves, is made clear by the title alone. But while there’s obviously much more to that debate, here and now we’re discussing the issue as it relates to the job of being an author and I have some specific thoughts on that.

Inspired by the many responses and conversations that ensued after the aforementioned article, as well as others written on the topic of racial conflict, bias, and injustice, I took one of the stories referenced, about an interracial couple’s experiences with police profiling, and developed it into a character-driven novel called A NICE WHITE GIRL, a title that reflects commentary made within some of the conversations I had.

This “sociopolitical love story” is told through the intertwining points-of-view of a black man and white woman dealing not only with pushback to their new and evolving relationship, but the ratcheting impact of police profiling that ultimately leads to a life-altering arrest. It’s a story that’s human, gut-wrenching, and honest, built on the foundation of my own experiences in a long-term interracial relationship earlier in my life, as well as journalistic research and interviews, personal interactions, even friendships with members of the black community. Given a commitment to creating the characters outside my demographic as authentically and sensitively as I possibly could, without watering them down or pandering to political correctness, I believe I served both my story and its cultural demands well. Did I?

Every author relies on, taps into; mines the wealth of thought, opinion, perspective, and acculturation of their own unique life experience. Certainly that’s true. But as artists, as observers and chroniclers of life by way of prose, we go beyond that pool of reference. We reach out, we expand; we explore plot lines and include characters that stretch our imagination, that dig deep into worlds, events and experiences, imagined or real, that can pull us onto less traveled roads that might demand the challenge of research, of specific observation, even outside consultation. We take these extra steps, even for fiction, because we want to infuse our work with inherent realness. Particularly when writing characters outside our culture. That was certainly the demand I faced when embarking upon this latest novel.

But I am a white woman who’s written a book with a black male character, inclusive of his mother, his sister, and various friends. I’ve depicted their family life, their interactions, relationships, thoughts and feelings. Do I not have the creative right to do that? Will I be seen as patronizing, insensitive, off base, and inappropriate? Will this make my book too controversial for representation, for publishing, for sale? Will it garner derision and disdain from members of the black community? Even members of the white community who may resent the harshness with which I depict some of the police?

I don’t know. Maybe. But it was a story I felt passionate about, compelled to write; that took the many debated aspects and elements discussed in my articles and put them into fictional form, with imagined characters who embodied and borrowed from people I knew, from conversations I’d had, from ideas, agendas, politics, and passions that had been conveyed to me by real people expressing essential and sometimes controversial perspectives. I was determined to honor them by candidly, honestly, and without apology, telling the story.

But perhaps, as Anthony Horowitz was told, I’m entering territory that is off-limits, that puts me at odds with those who might frame me as presumptuous and patronizing. “A nice white girl” who’s stepped outside of culturally acceptable boundaries.

I hope not, because I, like Mr. Horowitz, see that as “dangerous territory.”

Just as brilliant male authors have gorgeously written female protagonists; as female novelists have conjured male characters ringing with truth; as writers of one ethnicity have honestly depicted another; as fabulists have invented entire worlds of imagined wonders, authors must be limited by... NOTHING. Not a thing. They must be free to create without fear of cultural naysaying, societal judgment, threat of reprisal, or the discomfort of crossing cultural boundaries.

The only mandate to which they’re obligated is GOOD WRITING. Writing with wit and clarity. Honesty. Authenticity. Sensitivity and depth. Engaging prose, compelling plots, and visceral emotion. And, if need be, if determined helpful, the use of “sensitivity readers” who can ascertain if the writer got the cultural references right.

But just as Idris Elba could certainly make magic as James Bond, as Anthony Horowitz could create an intriguing black spy for his books; as I can write characters both male and of a culture outside my own, so must every author of merit and worth be allowed to view the entire panoply of life as fuel for their imagination. Anything else is antithetical to the mission of art... and stymying art serves no one. Not the writer, not the reader, not the myriad members of our diverse world hungry for stories that reflect their lives. Art is imagining; creating, mirroring, and provoking... all of which can and must be achieved by artists free to explore without the limiting effect of creative and cultural boundaries.

[sineala]

I subscribe to the newsletter of an author I like who wrote a book about 9/11 and the War on Terror and the security state in the US and how it led to the election of Trump, and it's all very serious but apparently the author is writing an Iron Man comics series. I don't read the comics, and a lot of what I know about them comes from your fic, so I'm honestly not sure how much fanon vs canon knowledge I have. 😂 But the series sounds like it might be interesting I think? The author talked about it in his newsletter today. (This link should work. Probably.)

https://www.forever-wars.com/iron-man-how-to-blow-up-a-pipeline-succession/

I am actually really excited about this run! I try not to get excited about new Iron Man runs because chances are high that my hopes and dreams will be crushed, and I know that just because someone writes, say, stunningly excellent non-fiction, it is not a guarantee that they will be great at writing fiction at all or superhero comics specifically (cf. Ta-Nehisi Coates on Cap), but judging by everything Spencer Ackerman's been saying in interviews, his run sounds like it's going to explore a lot of interesting themes.

The post you linked links to an AIPT podcast that he was on a few days ago to talk about his new Iron Man run. For those of you who don't listen to podcasts (this is also me), the Iron Man subreddit has what seems like a fairly comprehensive summary of the interview, and I am really looking forward to the run. Issue #1 apparently hits stores on October 23.

But I will tell you why I am actually now really excited about this run. It's not relevant to anything about the comic itself. I am nonetheless very excited.

Last month, after he was announced as the new Iron Man writer, in order to hype up his run, he posted an offer on his blog: if you add the run to your pull list, and you email him proof that you're pulling his run and include a snail-mail address, he will mail you some cool Iron Man stickers.

I eventually got around to doing this last week. I was assuming he didn't actually pay attention to any of these emails so I dashed off a couple sentences about how I was looking forward to his take on Tony because he'd posted a photo of the Iron Man comics he was reading for research and several of them were among my favorites. And then I went off to get bagels.

By the time I had come back with bagels, twenty minutes later, he'd written me a very nice reply substantively engaging with the content of my extremely off-the-cuff message -- geez, if I'd known he was going to be actually reading them I would have put a lot more thought into it, you know? It was very kind and I was not expecting it.

He spelled my first name wrong in the reply, despite it being in the email header and also the name I had signed the email with.

This happens to me a lot. I have a first name that is very common in a lot of languages, but none of those languages are English. I'd say there's a 50-50 chance that a native English speaker will spell or pronounce my name wrong. This is unfortunate, because I live in the US and mostly interact with native English speakers. (My wife @lysimache immediately knew how to pronounce my name. I mean, it wasn't why I married her or anything, but I feel like it was a big plus on a personal level.)

If I have to give my name for something, I will reflexively spell it. The second-to-last time I voted, they'd switched voter lookup to you giving them your name rather than you giving your street address, which was a surprise that filled me with dread. My wife was in line ahead of me and she was completely finished voting by the time the poll workers had finished correctly spelling my name. (The last time I voted, I just handed them my ID, which is not required in my state, but I really wanted this to go faster.) I went to the doctor last week, and when they called my name in the waiting room, they said it wrong. I corrected them. They said it differently wrong a couple minutes later. I corrected them again. They said it wrong again. At that point I gave up.

(If I could think of a name I liked better that I was absolutely sure that most people could spell and pronounce, I would change my name. I still have not found one.)

So, you know, I'm used to it. It happens. Frequently. I was not at all surprised that he spelled it wrong.

He then emailed me again to apologize for spelling my name wrong. Like, immediately. One minute later. He said he was sorry and he knew a lot of people with a similar name.

Dude. Nobody does that. Nobody actually apologizes. Especially not in an email to a rando like me. He did not need to do that. At all. I was not expecting him to do that. He did that. I was honestly touched. No one bothers to do that. But he did.

I got my stickers in the mail yesterday.

I have redacted the portion of the note that has my name in it, but he absolutely spelled my name correctly.

Mr. Ackerman, sir, I hope your comic sells a million copies.

[flightyalrighty]

What do you think about Shadow? What is your personal perception of him? I'm curious about your answer (I hope is spoiler free)

On his character profile, wikipedia etc... for a while he is describled in a strong negative way, like he has no positive traits, an anti-MarySue. But I remember that Shadow from SA2 to 2006, including Shadow 2005 (surprisling, watching the cut scene, I found his positive traits are still there), and then Prime Shadow, tMoStH (those two versions are a bit shy) and Archie Shadow has a good balance of positive and negative traits. In particular the first Shadow (Adventure 2) was enternaining, he seemed playful and mischievous at times, like he was sill a kid even if he was heavily burdened by his past, and there was something likeable in Shadow in Heroes, like he is nice to have around as friend although sometimes he may get difficult to deal with his stubborness, melancholy and pessimism.

Often people complain about Shadow being too expressive in Archie comics. I admit I complained too before rewatching SA2/Sheroes cutscenes, reading some old Sega description of the character, how Maekawa envisioned him (far different than what we have today and that's clear from SA2), I could see Archies' choices.

Also, Archie Shadow is still cold and gruff toward those he doesn't know/he didn't connect with (I lovd the part where he was answering to Relic's questions). He shows his softer side only to his closest friends and still has that hints of distrust, typical of those that were and are still abused and rejected in every possible way.

I like how you showed this in the early page of Infested. The Shadow in first pages is caring toward Rouge, but he is quiet, very focused, and stubborn (when he wanted to complete his mission despite the double concussion and the pain). I see the tick (the bug makes me think to a tick. I see them quite often bvecause the little b...s often attack my cats) is now neutralizing his mental shield, leaving him with his insecurities exposed and vulnerable, in order to make him panic more easily. Shadow's personality is still there for now but his defense is gone.

I think that different continuities have different takes on Shadow (as you mentioned with Archie and Prime). While I thought pretty long and hard about how to answer this, ultimately I'm not sure how. I'll try?

My personal perception of Shadow is simply how he was written before the series had its big tonal shift starting with Sonic Colors. This no-nonsense guy who strives to do the right thing in the most straightforward and efficient way possible. His character arc concluded with Sonic 06, and then he was slid backwards by a company that wanted so badly to twist the franchise to suit the whims of people who never had a real interest in Sonic to begin with. Shadow is so much more than the flat character he'd been hydraulic pressed into. He's more than

This.

I don't envy Ian Flynn's job. He started his career a lot more free to write Shadow how he wanted to, and then found himself struggling against more and more and more restraints -- To the point that he's said on record that he doesn't like writing Shadow anymore. That's sad, especially when my favorite take on all of Team Dark came from his pen. Ian Flynn, famously, was Archie Sonic's writer until its death.

Archie's Team Dark is how I love to see them written.

Archie Shadow, in particular, had a lot more going on than game!Shadow. He was far less likely to cause friction within the Team Dark dynamic -- Not to say friction is a bad thing in fiction, quite the opposite, but when that friction happens all the time it's exhausting. If Shadow was actually allowed more moments to be an actual teammate or collaborate with someone outside of Team Dark without making the whole situation way more needlessly difficult all on his own, that could solve a lot of the issues folks have been complaining about. Like, he doesn't even need to be written nicer, just more willing to work with allies when necessary. He used to do this. Now he barrels into every situation solo.

Anyway, kvetching about Shadow's current writing concluded (on top of the actual answer for this ask).

[peanutpinet]

Hello!! I planned to check on your page in hopes to read some old/new fics and I was so glad I came across your recent one!! Thank you for that. I have a request for the mafia fics you make which are just *chef's kiss*

- Could you have Mark x female reader (same age, or the fem a bit younger) where they are both in a higher status who train the recruits and some of them disrespect the girl?

Please take your time- I know writing consistently can be hard (this is actually my second request and I can't wait for what more you have to bring!) Also I love that your fics are angsty but more fluffy which is what makes them great!!

Respect - Mafia! Mark Lee x Trainee! Fem Reader

A/N: hellow anon, I'm so sorry it took me eons to write this fic and am sorry if it didn't live up to your expectation but I hope you still find it enjoyable. I'm sorry to my fellow nctzens that I haven't been posting as well. Life happened and there's so much going around that has overwhelmed me but I'm slowly trying to work my way through the requests. I promise I'm trying to get your requests written!!

Also, your author went into the Love and Deepspace rabbit hole and well, you can probably guess who's my bias (cough*Sylus*cough). I had a thought of making a Jeno (Sylus) fic but we'll see if it'll come through the light of day but for now, I hope you enjoy my first-ever Mark fic on this blog.

Disclaimer: This is also part of the NCT mafia world/fic that I've created. The NCT members portrayed in this fic are not how they are irl. This is a work of FICTION!

Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Warnings: Mark being a mess, chaotic dreamies, mentions of drug, illegal drug selling, stuck-up annoying kid, no blood (for once in an NCT mafia fic), no torture (another surprise). NOT PROOFREAD!

ENJOY!!

“Hey Melk, don’t forget that you have to take charge of today’s recruits” Haechan shouted at what he likes to call, the ‘leader’ of dream

“You do know that I have a lot going around (literally irl as well, praying for Mark)?” Mark replied, as he was finishing some of the paperwork regarding the events from last weekend’s incident

“How’s Jisung holding up?” Mark asked whereas Haechan sighed seeing his hyung always taking care of his younger members rather than resting and taking care of his own health. “He’s doing fine. He actually got together with the girl which I’m not that surprised considering that he would always steal glances at her whenever he spotted her”

“Yo? Really? I never knew that he was close with the other recruits other than Eunji but I’m happy for him” Mark replied, still not looking away from the amount of paperwork

“Okay. That’s it” Haechan groaned and immediately yanked the paperwork away from Mark who was now yelling at him to give it back. “Lee Donghyuck!! Give it back, I swear if you rip it and make me redo the paperwork…”

“Relax, who said that I’m going to do that” Haechan scoffed right as the door to Mark’s office opened and revealed Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun

“Yo Hyung, you looked really….” Jaemin was about to comment when Mark looked up to his younger members who stopped whatever comment they had and instead pitied their leader. “Really tired. Go take a break from all the paperwork, hyung. Just because you’re the leader of dream, doesn’t mean that you should shoulder all the burden on your own” Jaemin continued, taking pity of their leader and grabbed all the paperwork and folders that were scattered all over the desk

“Guys, I’m really fine. It’s not like I’ve never done this before” Mark tried to reason and his members took all the paperwork out of his reach

“Sure you have but we would prefer that you take care of your health for once. I’m going to let Doyoung and Taeyong-hyung that you need a break. When was the last time you had a proper break? Even Haechan got it” Renjun argued, taking his phone out and called Doyoung

Sighing, Mark leaned back on his chair whilst closing his eyes. “Guys, I promise you that I’m not overworking myself, it’s just that I honestly have no idea what to do even if I get the day off”

“Yea, I know, hyung. It’s getting out of hand. No, we need Taeyong-hyung. Okay, okay. Got it, hyung” Renjun got off the phone and Haechan asked if it was Doyoung-hyung. “Is it Doyoung-hyung? What did he say? Do I get the day off as well?”

Slapping Haechan, Renjun shook his head in annoyance. “Like hell you get the day off. You took a whole week off last month if you’ve forgotten about it. Taeyong-hyung is on his way”

Right as Renjun finished, they all heard a knock on the door and Jeno went to open the door to reveal Taeyong who looked like he just got back from a meeting with the fancy suit that he was wearing but his tie was slightly loose.

“Ehem, hyung, you might have gotten something around on your neck” Chenle teased as Taeyong wiped his neck to see a smear lip stain and brushed it off and went towards Mark

“Mark…” Taeyong called out to his younger member who was also a fellow leader

Looking up at his older hyung, Taeyong could see the dark circles that were under his eyes. Mark’s hair was clearly messy and his skin tone looked ashy. Sighing, Taeyong sat across Mark with his desk separating the two leaders. “Mark, you need to rest. I’m sorry I didn’t realise it sooner but I’ll ask the others to handle the paperwork that you were handling and you can have till the weekend off”

Widening his eyes, Mark shot up from his seat and placed his hands on the desk. “B-but Hyung, I swear I’m okay. Plus, I honestly don’t know what to do with my free time anyway. I just feel that just sleeping around would make me feel guilty. I swear I’ll take it easy”

“See, hyung. We think he completely lost it at this point” Haechan teased only to have Mark get up and smack the younger member

“Haechan, Mark” Taeyong mentioned and the two stopped bickering. “Mark, if you feel that you’re slacking off by taking a few days off then why don’t you help teach some classes? It’s been a while since you last taught a class because of your busy schedules”

“Right, there are some new recruits we’ve been eyeing to be part of the new sub-unit” Mark mentioned

Taeyong then slid the tab across the desk towards Mark who took it and looked through the schedules and recruits that they were training. He also had a look at who was the teaching assistant and his eye was caught on a girl. She was a year younger than him and was recruited around the same time as the 00 liners.

“(y/n)” Mark thought to himself

Of course, how could he have forgotten the girl who was impressive enough to be part of the same batch along with Jeno and Jaemin. She was so impressive that she managed to get to a rank just below the official NCT members. She was also the one that helped save Mark back during their early days as recruits when they had to spy on some influential conglomerate who was secretly corrupting their company’s money and was also cheating on their wife and kids.

“Hello?! Earth to Melk? Mork? Mek?” Haechan called out several times before Mark finally snaps back to reality

“H-huh? Sorry. It really has been a while since I’ve trained some recruits or even get into field exercises” Mark mentioned

Taeyong shook his head, chuckling as he got up from his seat. “Well, it’s a good time to get back into it, don’t you think?”

Taeyong patted Mark’s back as he headed towards the door and was about to leave but he stopped and turned to Mark and the dreamies. “By the way, Haechan, you’re not going to get any leaves for the next 4 months because you took a two whole weeks off in the past 2 months. Oh and Mark, be sure to look out for (y/n) and say hello to her for me”

As Taeyong left, the entire dream group went off with one conversation about how Haechan managed to sneak 2 weeks off and the other was teasing Mark about (y/n).

Time Skip to Training Month

The entire month, NCT would always conduct field lessons where the members would be divided into several groups, teach the new recruits of the actual field work then bring some of the new recruits at the end of the month with them for actual field work at where they can go hands on to what the members typically do while also learn where their strong skills are.

Mark was assigned to teach about spying and decoding some of the most basic conversation that could be a potential clue. Going into the class, the entire classroom seemed to still be wild yet he tried to get them to sit back down.

“Class? Yo guys?” Mark called out yet no one seemed to notice him which reminded him a lot of NCT Dream

Sighing, Mark was about to slam something to the desk when (y/n) and other teaching assistants came in, startling the entire classroom. “Attention everyone!” (y/n) shouted, the entire classroom sat down and Mark himself was slightly startled

One of the recruits even accidentally threw an object that was in their hand but Mark caught it right before it hit (y/n)’s face. “Alright, class. Welcome to this month’s field study about stealth and spying. I’ll be your main teacher, Mark. You can Mark me in your memory”

“Mr Mark, are you new here?” one of the recruits asked and Mark chuckled. “No, why?”

“Because it seems that you’re mistaken. Everyone here excels in the class and we’re only here for the action. So when are we going to go out for the real deal” the recruits joked around and (y/n) along with some of the higher ranks were about to stop them but Mark raised his hand, stopping them

“The real deal?” Mark chuckled, standing in front of the desk, putting both his arms on the desk behind him. “Alright then. If you want the real deal then tell me who the imposter is in this room. There’s someone in this room that’s not a recruit”

Immediately the entire classroom was a ruckus. Each of them questioned one another because while they were all recruits, they were all from different batches.

“Umm, sir, this can go on for the whole day if you don’t stop it” (y/n) mentioned as Mark turned to see the girl that he admired growing up to become a well-established woman in the group

“Hello? Mark?” (y/n) snapped her fingers in front of the NCT Dream’s leader’s face which snapped him back to reality. “Right, sorry”

Mark then walked away from the desk and headed to one of the groups that was having a heated conversation and pulled one of the “recruits’” jacket. “Haechan, I told you to stop sneaking in like this. Wait until I tell Taeyong about this”

Haechan who chuckly opened the hood of his hoodie just smiled at the tired Mark and waved at (y/n). “Hi (y/n). It’s been a while hasn’t it?” Haechan stated, skipping towards (y/n) who smiled but shook her head in disbelief. “Should’ve known that it was you, Haechan”

The entire class was in shock that another NCT member was in the room and no one recognised him at all. “Relax, I was just curious about the class you were teaching. Gosh, I knew Taeyong made sure that everyone out there didn’t know our identities but our own recruits not knowing who’s who?” Haechan chuckled, shaking his head as he walked towards the desk in front of the classroom. “Damn, either we’ve become desperate and recruited some unskillful people or they’re too spoiled and entitled to the point that they practically forgot what they’ve been taught, and well, from previous experience, it would be the latter”

Haechan was practically livid as he eyed the recruits. He knew some from training them a while back and he remembered a specific recruit that was so full of himself and one time even mistook his girlfriend for some silly new recruit and even nearly bullied her.

Haechan slowly walked toward one of the recruits, his gaze darkened and despite being around the same height as the recruit, he was still an NCT member. His aura screamed intimidating as if he had done so many bad things which sent the entire class silent. “Wouldn’t you say so, Nicholas?”

“Lee Haechan, I think that’s enough” Mark’s voice echoed through the classroom; it wasn’t a shout but rather a statement. The entire class could only watch two NCT members interact in silence. No one dared to talk to each other until Mark walked towards Haechan, his hand was on the younger member’s shoulder. “Haechan” Mark yanked the younger member and made him turn. “I said enough”

The two NCT members had a stare-off right as the bell rang. Sighing, Mark told the students to be prepared for the next lesson because he was going to bring them for a mini field assessment. “Alright, dismiss everyone”

One by one the students left the classroom along with some of the higher recruits and right as (y/n) was about to leave, Mark decided to ask her a favour. “Hey (y/n), I know that I might be asking a lot but would you mind sending me the entire background information of the students and an overview of what they’ve learned?”

“Sure thing. Anything else that you might need?” (y/n) asked, tilting her head which made Mark stutter a bit. “N-no, that’s all. Thanks (y/n). I appreciate it”

“No worries. I’ll umm, get going and get the things you need ready” (y/n) mentioned and left the classroom to just Mark and Haechan

“Haechan, what were you even trying to do with spying on the class? I didn’t even get to teach anything and…” Mark was starting to complain but Haechan’s serious tone cut him off. “Hyung. You should know that while I’m a prankster at times, I don’t really play around when it comes to work, and let me tell you, that kid, Nicholas, and his gang. There’s something not right about them. They thought my girlfriend was some new recruit and were about to bully her had Jeno not come and stop them”

Hearing Haechan be serious and explain this made Mark let out another long sigh and mess his hair up. “And? You kept an eye on them, right? What did you find, Haechan?”

Haechan looked down, clenching his hands into a fist. “Nothing out of the ordinary just yet but I’m warning you, Hyng. He’s not someone we should leave unwatched” Haechan mentioned as he left Mark in the classroom to think about what just happened.

Over the next course of 3 weeks, Mark has been teaching and training the recruits alongside the higher rankings like (y/n). Occasionally, some of the other members would come around and visit Mark’s lessons and even help teach some of the recruits as well.

By the end of the month, Taeyong had assigned fieldwork for each of the members and the class they were teaching. Mark announced to his class that they were assigned to handle some illegal drug-selling group that was in a college.

“Alright class. There’s a yearly sorority party going at a special location. It’s typically different every year, and the tracing class has already traced their location. Your job is to infiltrate the party and find whoever is selling and retrieving those drugs. Don’t get caught, watch each others’ back. We’ll be close by just in case anything goes wrong. You’ll be separated amongst different teams to infiltrate each party since there are several going around in the town they were assigned to.

Mark watched as the recruits were divided and (y/n) was assigned to be the main leader for the group that had Nicholas which even though throughout the past few weeks, Mark didn’t notice anything, he couldn’t help but feel something not sit right with him that he decided to talk with (y/n) right before her team headed out.

“Hey” Mark called out to (y/n) who turned and looked at Mark. “Oh, Mark, hi. What is it? Is there something wrong?” (y/n) asked

“N-no. Well, just wanted to make sure that you’re alright” Mark mentioned, scratching the back of his neck, making (y/n) chuckle. “I’m okay, Mark. Don’t worry about it. It’s not like they’re in kindergarten where they need to be constantly watched” (y/n) mentioned, making Mark laugh as well

“I know, I know. But you know, they’re still kids. They haven’t gone to the field like we have. This is a good opportunity for them to be exposed and for us to see how serious they are. Also to see who is easily manipulated or not” Mark mentioned, making the hair on the back of (y/n)’s neck stand up

“I, I know, Mark. I know what you mean. Since the incident with Eunji against of the entitled group, it has been part of the program where before their supposed ‘graduation’, they would be sent to the field to deal with real-life problems” (y/n) replied and Mark knew the incident she was talking about

“I know that incident too. Just, be careful alright? If anything happens, just call us” Mark mentioned as (y/n) nodded and left along with the rest of the group for the recruits’ annual field mission

Mark’s POV

It was a little past 1 am and almost 6 hours since the group left yet there really hadn’t been any major updates regarding the issue and I’m starting to grow worry. “Yo Hyung, are you working overtime again?” I heard Renjun mention, coming into my office

“Not exactly overtime if I’m waiting until the class has all come back” I mentioned as Renjun shook his head whereas the rest of the dreamies came into my office

“Are you sure you’re just waiting for the class or waiting for (y/n)?” Haechan teased which made me throw the nearest object towards him

“There’s nothing wrong with being worried about a fellow comrade. It’s quite normal. Especially if you have a crush on the person” Jeno followed along with the teasing

The members kept me company for a while until Haechan received a notification from his laptop that the final team, the one (y/n) is supervising was finally done with their task and were heading their way back to the headquarters.

The dreamies and I went towards our HQ’s vehicle building. By the time we arrived, the cars that (y/n) and her team used were already back but instead of hearing some encouraging words or complains about coming back late or something, we heard some arguments between several people.

Your POV

“You seriously going to report us about what we did? I mean we’ve been training at this place for who knows how damn long it has been since we were all brought here. We’re always monitored whenever we leave the base and the one time we get to go out and explore without being monitored, of course, you had to be the responsible one and ruined it” Nicholas complained

Scoffing, I crossed my arms and looked at Nicholas with a sharp gaze, no one else dared to speak up. “Ruined it?! You were the one acting like a brat. It’s as if this place is a prison and you can’t get any social interaction at all. More like, you can’t pull anyone in here so you decided to try and drug that girl at the party”

Nicholas was about to bark back at me but we were all shocked at the next few words that echoed through the place and heavy boots getting closer.

“You tried to do what?!” we heard Mark shout and as I turned around, I saw Mark along with the other Dream members making their way towards us

Instinctively, I lightly bowed at them and explained what happened. “We found who was selling the drugs and traced them back to an old man who was working together with one of the kids. Of course, we’ve handled the situation. We confiscated the drugs and the kids who were selling them then…” before I continued, Mark stopped me and made his way towards Nicholas

“We know what happened (y/n). You gave us constant updates and we already know who was the one actually selling the drugs and all” Haechan explained

“But not about someone, amongst our soon-to-be fresh grads wanting to use those drugs for…” Jeno mentioned but Mark continued. “Personal reasons”

Everyone was silent, I didn’t even dare to say anything. Dream are considered to be the more laid-back group but when it comes to their job, they don’t play around. Especially when it involves illegal things and their reputation being at stake. Yet, this is the first time I’ve seen Mark actually be this intimidating as the leader of NCT Dream.

“Explain yourself” Mark stated, his eyes filled with annoyance was bored into Nicholas’ scared ones. “Or would you like to be intimidated by DoJaeJung?”

Dojaejung, another sub-unit of NCT with Doyoung, Jaehyun, and Jungwoo. Though these 3 older NCT members seemed chill, Jungwoo is able to make you rat yourself, twisting your own words. Doyoung’s judging eyes and sharp words are also able to make you cower in fear. Finally, Jaehyun. He might seem the quietest and the one who could care less about anything. But if it involves his members, something that is against the foundation that he along with NCT built, it’s safe to say that you’re better off digging your own grave before facing him.

“N-no Mark, it was just…” Nicholas stuttered. “That’s sir to you. You don’t get to call me by my first name. Not at this very moment”

“Y-yes sir. I was saying that we never meant to harm anyone. We also didn’t harm anyone. We were curious and well we’ve been here practically for a long time and we just wanted to have fun had she not act like such an entitled person and…”

Without a warning, Mark punched Nicholas to the ground, causing me to gasp and cover my mouth Haechan chuckled then both Jeno and Jaemin each grabbed Nicholas’ arm, forcing him to look up at Mark. “You don’t get to say that about her. She’s doing her job. If she hadn’t been there to stop you. Graduating from here should be the least of your worries at this point. Once the whole of NCT finds out what you and some of you tried to pull out there which let me tell you from experience” Mark chuckled, his gaze was sharp

“Taeyong always knows everything. If you think you can think ahead and try to cover up whatever evidence you have. Taeyong will already have backups on backups. Evidence after evidence. Witnesses ready. If I were you, I’d start practicing begging to be spared. Now go back to your dorms. We’ll talk more about your stunt and give you a proper teaching of respect”

A/N: thank you once again for requesting this fic, anon and I hope you and everyone enjoyed reading this fic! Also if anyone also plays love and deepspace, hit me up :3

[cripplecharacters]

Feel free not to answer this question as it's more a research-type question, I'm just not sure how to go about finding what I need: do you happen to know any fiction books with portrayals of medium to high support autistic people that are considered realistic and positive? All I can find is rep of low support autistic ppl (unless it's in semi-educational children's books) and it's making it harder to figure out how to write medium to high support autistic ppl myself.

Hello!

When I was diagnosed, it was before the levels were used (Or at least before they were used where I lived). I suspect that I would be considered 'level one autistic' today but would likely have been 'level two', bridging into 'level three' as a child. This is all just to explain my perspective with this.

That being said, here are some of my recommendations:

A Step Toward Falling by Cammie McGovern

I just finished this book earlier today and while it isn't specifically about autistic characters, it does feature several autistic characters with high support needs as well as other disabled characters. The book is written from the perspective of two characters, one of which is developmentally disabled (Belinda). Although her disability is never specified, I do see a lot of autistic traits in Belinda. The premise of this book is a bit heavy. It's about two characters (Who are not disabled) who end up volunteering at a centre for adults with developmental disabilities. One of the things I appreciated about this book was how well rounded the characters are. Each of them has their own stories, interests, and ideas. I also like how it discussed sex and relationships in the context of people with developmental disabilities. Something to note is that this does have some sensitive topics such as ableism, sexual assault, and bullying. It is also written by a parent of an autistic child but, as far as I'm aware, the author herself is abled. I did have some conflicted feelings about specific parts of it but I'll leave that for you to make your own decisions about. Target Audience: Young Adult

How to Speak Dolphin by Ginny Rorby

I also read this book recently and I personally really disliked it. There were several scenes that made me feel very gross and I found that the autistic character was dehumanized very often. One line that stuck with me was another character about a blind character, essentially saying, "I thought she was going to drown herself. If I was blind, that's what I would do." Although the character does get to know the blind character and changes her mind, it really felt awful to read and seemed so unnecessary -- especially given the target audience. The way it talks about blindness in general bugs me. That being said, I have seen several autistic people recommending the book (Which was why I read it in the first place) so I'll include it here anyways since my opinion seems to be in the minority around this book. Target Audience: Elementary/Middle Schoolers This is a brief review from another autistic person. [Link]

Planet Earth is Blue by Nicole Panteleakos

This book centers around Nova, a young autistic girl with high support needs. Nova is a foster child who is missing her older sister and the story is told through a mix of narrative, letters to Nova's sister, and flashbacks. It's been a while since I've read this book but I remember really enjoying it (And maybe crying a little bit too). The author is autistic herself and also consulted many other autistic people with a variety of experiences, which I appreciated. Target Audience: Middle Schoolers This is a more in-depth review on the book from a reader who (I believe) is also autistic. [Link]

These are also a couple books that I've seen recommended but can't personally recommend as I haven't read them myself yet:

Real by Carol Cujec

Remember Dippy by Shirley Reva Vernick

I know it's not very much but hopefully it's enough to get you started! If anyone has any recommendations for anon, feel free to mention them in the notes.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

[mrsportgas]

Ghost Ridders Cap.1

#Special Note: Not my pics, all them will be tag to its actual owner. Also not my characters. Please be patient, it´s my first time writing and englihs it´s not my first language. Feel free to interact!!!!

#Summary: Eight years ago, you were taken against your Will to Mary Goise to become the new slave of Saint Roswald, or rather, to living a hell on earth. One day, while you go with  him on a visit to a New World´s  island in the New World, but a familiar face appears. This creates the perfect opportunity for you to escape, join the Whitebeard Pirates, and discover more about your past, your abilities, and who you really are. All  while you try to endure your new crewmate, Portgas D. Ace, who is incredibly annoying... or perhaps incredibly irresistible? You haven't decided yet.

This story is based in the world of One Piece, with the same characters and timeline. Of course, this story is fiction created by me. Some of the timelines, names, and characters might be the same, also some names, characters, stories, or even personalities may be altered. The story is happening pre-time skip, while strawhats are in sabondy for the first time.

The first chapter is an introduction to the current story, which begins with Ace as your central romance. (This romance may shift to other characters as the story progresses, but don't worry, there's still plenty of Ace to come.) The story is written in first person. Female gender, Y/N, but feel free to change the gender, name, or anything else that makes you more comfortable.♡

YOUR POV:

You are walking. Or at least you think so. You don’t remember exactly how long it’s been, but it’s been long time since you’ve been practically going on autopilot. Walking, eating, and just going through the motions.

You just land in an island in the middle of the New World. All because Sand Roswald your lord and celestial dragon wanted to "buy" a jewel for his daughter that was now being sold in one of the best jewelry stores of the Red Line. I say "buy" because, of course, he would take whatever he wanted without caring what the store owner thought, and anyone who got in his way would be the one to lose. Just like what happened to me, but that’s another story.

All I could see were the yellow, worn cobblestones of the main street in the capital. I heard the screams and whimpers of people as they knelt, trying to avoid his gaze, and I could even hear footsteps as people ran, trying to hide somewhere else, trying to stay as far as possible. Mean while, in my head words repeated over and over: “Walk, look down, and everything will be fine.”

After so many years, the Sea Rock shackles hanging in my wrist where like part of my own body; I had learned to live with that weight. With that pain.

MARCO’S POV:

“All this will cost you 200 berris,” said the owner at the medicine shop.

“Alright, give me a second. Ace, hand me the bag.” The silence made me look back; Ace wasn’t there, and somehow I wasn’t surprised. The damn idiot had gotten lost again. I can’t take it anymore. Now I have to go look for him, and to top it all off he took all the money with him.”

The Whitebeard pirates had just landed that day, looking for supplies, and they had to set sail again quickly to complete an important mission. So they had just enough time to grab what they needed and leave.

“My friend has gone with the money; hold this for me, and I’ll be back for it.” Just as the owner was about to respond, a wave of people running and screaming in desperation rushed past the store. “What happened? What’s wrong with the people?”

“From what I understand, a celestial dragon is coming to the city today. If I were you, I’d stay inside until it’s gone. As far as I know, it’s Saint Rosward. They’re one of the cruelest families out there… if any of them could be considered merciful,” the man explained with kindess.

“I don’t have time for that. I need to find my berries and leave as soon as possible. Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” I replied with a friendly smile.

I stepped out into the deserted street. There was no one left; people were either already hiding or kneeling in the main street.

This could be dangerous. I need to be careful. I thought, and that’s when it hit me… If I were Ace, ¿Where would I have gone?… ¡THE MARKET! Which, of course, is on the main street…

Hidden under my cloak and trying not to draw too much attention, I made my way to the main street and knelt down with the rest of the citizens. Moving quickly, I tried to get to the front rows so I could take a better look at the market area. As I got closer, I saw three armed men and a girl in the middle, all at the entrance of a jewelry store. Through the window, Saint Rosward with a jewel on his hands. I looked around and suddenly, I SAW HIM. The idiot was on the roof of that same building, gesturing at me while laughing and eating an apple.

“What an idiot…” I thought as I signaled for him to come down. At that very moment, the atmosphere changed, and the entire scene around the street shifted. A single element was enough to send a chill down my spine. Something was about to happen, and that made me look towards the store’s door. The girl was looking up, at me to be more specific, straight into my eyes, and that’s when I realized.

I looked her up and down, inch by inch, for seconds that felt like hours. The girl was young, practically a child to me, though it was hard to tell since not a single inch of her body was visible. An old, tattered cloak, almost like a sack of potatoes, covered every part of her body, except her bare feet, covered in blood and mud, and her hands, which were bound by sea stone handcuffs. Her long, tangled brown hair and dark brown eyes were the only visible parts. I scanned her nose, cheekbones, mouth… eyes… those eyes.... so familiar, and then an image came to mind: my mother, and this girl was the spitting image of her.

“Y/N…” I sighed. But it was impossible; my sister was dead. Or so they told me, I think. I don’t know. It’s impossible, what are the odds anyway? Exactly… None.

The girl looked at me, freeze, staring deeply without breaking eye contact, and then her expression changed, as if she had seen a ghost. The truth is, my face must look similar right now.

Her facial expression changed yet again and her tear-filled eyes brought back memories, memories of my childhood, which I’d rather forget.

A blow. A weapon struck her head, and blood began to flow.

“What’s wrong with you? Stop crying. Shut up,” one of the guards shouted. “If Saint Rosward sees you… ¿You won’t want to spend another week in the box, eh, slut?”

She didn’t take her eyes off me, and then a voice echoed in my head, saying, “Now.” I don’t know where it came from, perhaps from within me, from the deepest part, but I listened to it because next thing i know is that I stood up and ran, ran as fast as I could towards one of the guards, ready to hit him and steal his weapon. At the same time, almost as if she knew what I was going to do, the girl stood up, dodging the guard’s blows with ease, kicking him several times, and stealing his weapon. Without using her hands.

“Right!” she shouted, and tossed the wepon to me. I turn right and the weapon falls into my hands. I manage to shoot the guard in front of me.

Another guard falls behind me from a bullet entering his forehead. As I turn around, I spot Izou looking at me with an alarmed expression, probably thinking that I’m crazy.

Meanwhile, Saint Rosward and the rest of his guards and slaves come out of the store due to the commotion at the entrance. They find three guards on the ground, and me standing right in front of him.

“Damn bitch, if I didn’t need you, I’d kill you right here. Come on, grab her and kill the others,” Saint Rosward shouted furiously. I swear, at that moment, it seemed like he could have erupted into flames all over his body; his expression was one of pure rage. In fact his clothes began to catch fire, flames rising from the bottom of his tunic. ¿Does he have that power?¿ Has he eaten a Devil Fruit?¿ Which one? But then it hits me: !!!ACE¡¡¡¡

Saint Rosward begins to scream and jump around like a madman while his guards try to put out the fire now spreading across his clothes.

“¡Run! I´ll see you guys on the ship,” Ace says as a grin formed his lips.

Without thinking it much, I look at Izou; we both nod. I quickly head towards the girl and take her hand. The three of us run towards the port amidst the commotion of the people; no one does a thing, no one moves except us.

Y/N POV:

I’m still on autopilot. ¿What just happened?

Run. It’s the only thing I can think of; my whole body is trembling, numb from so many years of being unable to move, and though my feet, my legs are doing their best, the sea stone cuffs are hard to ignore now. The broken and unstable cobblestone ground makes me trip, and fall to the ground, unable to catch myself as my hands are bound.

Everything around me is shaking; I was so close to escaping, a glimmer of hope in my heart, and now I’ve lost it so quickly.

“¡She’s my sister!” I hear footsteps ahead. Strong, big arms lift me up. A silouette in a pink and purple kimono lifts me onto one of its shoulders and starts running without saying a word.

I let myself be carried, and for the first time in eight years, I feel safe enough to close my eyes and let my body relax. So much that I even passed out.

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

I open my eyes. My whole body hurts; my muscles and bones ache so much that I let out a small groan when I try to move. My eyes slowly adjust to the light. I’m in a room, an infirmary, and although the room is small, it has the basics: a bed, a sink, and cabinets with countless shelves and various potions. Next to me, a blond boy in a lilac shirt sleeps in a chair. He slowly begins to open his eyes.

“Y/N ¡You’re awake!” he shouts, not realizing the volume of his words. "I mean… well…¿ Are you Y/N? ¿Who are you?”

“Marco… I…”

A deathly silence filled the room. Just for a few seconds, before voices behind the door interrupted the conversation.

“Ace, stop it. You can’t go in there, get lost idiot.” An unfamiliar voice spoke behind the door.

“Come on, Thatch, I’ll give Marco the food, don’t worry. We’re a very close crew and need to help each other out, so let me help by delivering this food to Marco.” This time the voice was more familiar, though I didn’t know why it seemed so familiar…

“All you want is eat that food yourself. Give it back to me…”

Suddenly, the door bursts open with a loud bang, a reven hair boy with a very peculiar hat enters the room. Behind him, a man in a chef’s jacket follows and you could tell that he wants to kill the young man in front of him.

“¡MARCO’S SISTER IS AWAKE! ¿Are you hungry? Here. I brought you food,” he said with a cocky smile.

“Ace, get out of here, I need to talk to her,” Marco replied with a frown, pushing the boy out of the room and closing the door with a bang. “I’ll bring you some food later.¿ Are you hungry?”

“It’s okay, it doesn’t matter. I’m not hungry,” I replied, looking down. The truth is you were straving. But thats a feeling you long ago abandon.

“¿Are you really Y/N?”

“Yes,” I replied timidly.

“If you really are, prove it. Show me the mark.”

"Never say who you are, never show them…" those words came to mind forcefully, too forcefully. But it was Marco, I was sure. It had been 15 years since I’d seen him, and although we were children, I knew it was him, that face, that hair… unmistakable. Besides, it was my only chance to dont go back, to never go back.

I turned around, giving my back to Marco, who looked dubious at the girl in front of him. I lowered the cloak, letting him see my completely bare back. Marco let out a gasp. There it was. Right on the neck, that symbol, which identified me unmistakably. Below it, another mark: the mark of the celestial dragons slaves.

A shiver ran down Marco’s spine, and terror invaded his body. Immobilized, unable to make a sound. I turned around: “Now show me yours.”

Marco turned around quickly, lowering his shirt to show me his.

“Bathe and dress, in a few hours we’ll arrive at the Moby Dick,” he said, tossing a towel into my arms. And before I could utter another word, he opened the door and left.

The idea of a bath sounded good; I can’t even remember the last time I bathed… in a pleasant bath of cause, since the cold water hoses of Marie Geoise... I wouldn’t know if they could be considered a bath.

With some reluctance and embarrassment, I opened the door, ready to find the bathroom… ¿How could Marco leave me alone? ¿Couldn’t he have shown me where the bathroom was?. I walked down the hallway, looking for something indicating to be a bathroom, and suddenly, the sound of running water reached my ears. “There it is.” At the end of the hallway, a large open door led to long and large bathtubs, the air condensed with all the steam from the hot water. “¡Hot water, finally!” I couldn’t believe it, nor could I wait to immerse myself in it. I quickly entered, touching the water with my foot, and suddenly I felt my whole body tremble, all the energy, the little I had, vanished. The sea stone cuffs. I had completely forgotten about them, they had become part of me, so much that I didn’t notice them. “I should better wash at the sink.”

I headed to the sink, and at that moment, behind me, a lot of water started to flow upwards, and with a great crash of water against the walls, a tall, muscular figure emerged from the bathtub.

A stifled scream escaped my throat; I managed to stop it by covering my mouth with my hands and instinctively hid under one of the sinks. The figure slowly emerged from the water; it seemed to be difficult for him too… It was the boy who entered the infirmary with the food. I started to scan his muscular tan body, naked… :¿¿¡NAKED??!! At that very moment, I woke from my trance. I better get out of here immediately. Crawling, I managed to reach the door and leave the bathroom, running down the hallway back to the infirmary, locking the door and hiding there. SHIT.

NEXT CHAPTER

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

so gang....there's this historian...who's only had approximately 21 minutes of screentime...

unhinged rambling over a fictional character under the cut

I have always loved ulysses ever since the prologue came out back in december 2022, but after my recent rewatch in preparation for chapter 1 coming out later this year, my interest in his character has sparked into a full-blown hyperfixation??? it feels like ulysses wilhelm was designed specifically for me I'm going to be so honest. like, there's the surface level being that he's a boyfailure twink and that kind of character always seems to attract me, but everything else about his character from his design, his personality, his voice, the little aspects of him like the fact that him specifically noting down classmate birthdays and him updating a common phrase to sound more modern shows a genuine desire to connect with his class despite his clear social ineptitude, and also just...him having knowledge about the internet enough to know about internet arguments despite disliking computers?? silly ass. I've also like, never really seriously headcannoned a character with a mental disorder before, even ones that I have myself, but I am actually being so serious when I say that ulysses is literally just my inattentive adhd manifested into a person. I have not felt so represented in so long, and its by a character who doesn't even canonically have it, and I think its very special and a testament to how talented the writing crew behind p:eg is that they can make me feel that or anything I'm typing in this post despite, again, this character only being on screen for 21 minutes he is literally just me in every single way possible, actually. we literally even have the same birthday. I'm not a supernatural person, but like..I think me saying that this character was made for me might not be hyperbole after all. ...he's also just so fucking cute. Can I say that?? LOOK at this fucker??

his slightly scruffy hair that looks like he just woke up from one of his naps, his small but silly little smile, his dumb eyebags, his fucking VOICE, his lame as fuck sense of humor, his sprites, his dumbass sleepy noises, the fact that he's the shortest out of all the male characters, his everything?? I want to be his friend and listen to him yap about history, and I also want to make out with him sloppy style. I am sleepy all the time but he is sleepier, which means I can spoon him. I'd imagine his lifestyle of constantly being in his office doesnt really lend itself well to him receiving affection. he is probably very touch-starved... what if he encountered my persona. would he initially think the lack of sleep has finally caused him to hallucinate, considering I doubt you see slutty demons with big wings in real life. when he finally realizes that I am actually there, would he be fascinated at the sight of such a nonhuman creature being right in front of him? a new piece of history he has yet to discover? what if we become best friends. what if we become best boyfriends. my brain is moving at 200 miles an hour and I cannot stop it, I need him so fucking bad. if you have read this far, I'm not sorry and I'm not ashamed for my actions. except if you happen to be doctor pap (ulysses' va), in which case I politely ask you that you forget everything I have said today. thanks for reading