#but i would need more concrete ideas for the plot first

[flythesail]

It's the way I know I'm going to end up mourning the acolyte for a second time when I finish my fic

[arolesbianism]

It's so miserable making side characters for a story and getting attached because now not only are you obsessed with a guy that only exists in your head even if they existed out of your head they'd still be basically just in your head. Like no you guys have to trust me they're so deep and intricate no none of this stuff ever comes up you just have to believe me and like them as much as I do

[dduane]

I have been trying to write fic (well, smut) set in a world where certain things are slightly different to serve the fic's plot.

However, each time I try I have run into a problem: my head insists I need to justify the changes - I need to know comprehensive details about how the world works so I can ensure everything is consistent and not too f'd up.

So I get bogged down, and don't write a word. What do?

In your position, I’d sit down and write myself a bible.

This is how I did my prep for Barbie: Fairytopia.* And how I’ve done it for various works of fic presently on AO3… and how I’m doing it right now for the new Sherlock Holmes and the Giant Rats of Sumatra III project. I was taught this art by my animation story editors at Hanna-Barbera, and it’s stood me in good stead. (Peter and I pulled down our first miniseries assignment from a company that told us “we gave great bible.” And that was true.) 😄

When I say “bible” I don’t necessarily mean something that thick! (Though some of mine have been pretty hefty, with one TV project’s bible running more than a hundred pages… because I knew I had skeptical and underinformed TV execs to convince about something historical.) For the kind of purpose we’re describing here, your prep bible could be quite short: maybe looking like a bullet-pointed “shopping list”, five or ten pages long. It can be just as long or short as it needs to be to cover all your salient points.

The idea is simply to put down, in concrete form, a list of the main “different things” you need to know and remember about your alternate universe when you’re working in it. This is where you do your justification work, in as much or as little detail as you need to convince yourself you’ve got the necessary bases covered. The virtual “stage manager” who sits at the back of the theater of the Writing Department in your mind, judging when things are right, will be your guide here, and will advise you as to when you’ve got enough and it’s time to stop. And once this stuff is down on the page, you’ll be a position to judge critically whether everything makes enough sense to work with, and slots together correctly.

This is also a bit like (for the prose part of a project) outlining, in that it’s incredibly freeing. Once you’ve got this background nailed down, you know you can safely turn your attention away from it and get down to the serious business: drama, and the character interactions that express it. (And inevitably as you’re doing the bible writing, you start getting ideas for how the substrate you’re laying down is going to affect the conflicts between and among the characters. The bible stage can be incredibly fruitful this way.)

It would be facile to describe the bibling process as “getting the easy part over with first”. Because sometimes it’s not easy! But it’s worth doing first, because having done this first relieves you of the ongoing anxiety caused by knowing you may have to keep inventing or rationalizing stuff on the fly. (Which can produce the kind of micro-blocks that a writer can generally really do without.) …Not that you’re not going to be inventing things on the fly anyway: that’s a normal part of the writing process. But the biggest and most obvious issues will have been handled already, and you’ll know they have; which is always a weight off one’s mind. And the fewer of those weights you have loading you down, when you’re in the midst of the labor of composition, the better.

Anyway, give it a shot and see how it works for you. And then you can, like the rest of us smut writers, get on to the really pressing business: making sure you haven’t lost track of where all the characters’ arms and legs (and things) are when you’re writing those hot steamy sex scenes. 😏

Hope this helps!

*ETA: My remit on this job did include creating a bible for them. But I write a rough-draft one for myself first, including various meta that I needed but they didn't.

[erenstitanweave]

PROM NIGHT!!

synopsis: being the student council president of visions academy was a grueling job in itself, but planning prom for a bunch of teenagers with no ideas is harder. luckily for you, the boy who was seemingly always in the shadows caught you brainstorming and wants to help.

rating: sfw (obviously), eventual friends to eventual lovers, reader is overworked and underpaid, miles is a bit of a troublemaker at school (just one incident chat come on), made miles and reader juniors in high-school because it fit the plot better, miles silently pining, etc.

author's note: hey chat!! sorry for the sporadic uploads, exams have been all on my schedule for the past two weeks and i don't really have time for writing. exams are almost done so hopefully i'll have some more out. feel free to request some works you all want to see! reblogs and comments are appreciated, i hope you enjoy!

The sound of a basketball bouncing off of the concrete filled your ears, the sound somewhat calming along with everything else you heard. Faint noises of children playing in the playground a bit away, sounds of a small group of girls gossiping under a tree, and in particular, three very familiar boys playing basketball. You were also under a tree, your eyes looked ahead at the boys playing basketball, then back at the laptop in your lap. To anyone else, you’d look like a person studying or someone just doing some type of work outside. While both of those weren't exactly wrong assumptions, you were really here to just take a breath of fresh air. Life as a highschool student was suffocating, especially considering the position you had gotten yourself in two years prior. In your freshman year, due to your excellent academic performance during the duration of the entire school year, you were offered the position of student council president.

Being the student council president at Visions Academy of all places was a huge deal, considering they would pass on a full scholarship to the president at the end of their highschool years to the school of their choice. It would be that boost you needed to assure yourself that you would be able to go to the college of your dreams, not worrying about the burden of student loans was just an added bonus. However, this position came with a lot to do. Instead of leaving at the dismissal time for the students, due to your intense workload as council president and a student, you’d often leave when the teachers did, which was later in the evening if not later than them. This pretty much eliminated any sense of social life you had with anyone, the most you’d get was interacting with members of the student council or slightly scolding students when you had to. You were lonely, sometimes it hurt you a lot to know this, but you just kept telling yourself that you didn't need to have people around you.

That was, until you met him for the first time. You had known of him prior to actually meeting him, whispers in the halls and even some mentions from the principal only aided your curiosity, but that's all you were convinced it was, curiosity. Miles was an..interesting person. You’d hadn't met him prior to his father's passing like everyone else, so you couldn't attest to how he was before, but he was clearly different according to others. He was quiet, reserved, never disrespectful to anyone..not entirely at least. He had earned himself two visits to the principal’s office for fighting, and from what you heard while being in there for one of those visits, it was bad. Apparently, one of the more..non-disciplined boys had made a disrespectful comment about Miles and his father, one that you couldn't even repeat with how gross it was. Someone had told someone else, then that person told another person, until it got back to Miles via his best friend. You weren't present for the fight, but from seeing the boy in public the day after, you knew it was bad. Miles had been told that disciplinary action would be taken to more extreme measures if this happened again, meaning expulsion from the school.

He spent detention with you that day along with a few other people. His eyes kept gravitating towards you the whole time, he didn't know what it was about you, it was just..different. Detention was over before both of you knew it, then you never crossed paths again..except for right now. You saw him approaching the boys, greeting them and starting to play a game with them. You weren’t far away from them, but you honestly didn't know when you started just staring at them all play, or maybe it was just Miles you were staring at. Naturally, he'd noticed you staring at him long before you realized you were staring, but the longer he looked at you, the more familiar you seemed. Funnily enough, the way he realized it was you was because of your laptop, considering he couldn't see your face very well. Suddenly, he tossed the basketball to one of the other boys and walked out the court, approaching you quietly. His sneakers barely made any noise on the concrete, only making a hint of noise on the grass once he started walking on it.

You hadn't even noticed him, snapping out of your zoned out state once you noticed that Miles wasn't on the court anymore. Had he already left? Were you actually staring for that long? Miles circled around the tree you were sitting in front of, leaning next to the tree and silently watching as you looked around confused. He peered his eyes down at your laptop, slightly squinting his eyes and reading the text on your laptop. Before he really read anything though, a very familiar logo in the top right caught his attention almost immediately. Visions Academy. His eyes immediately went around the screen, looking for anything else that would make sense of who you were, then it clicked. Your laptop looked extremely familiar, you went to Visions, then right on the upper right corner of the screen read three words that made his eyes widen. Student Body President. He stared down at you, only to see you looking back at him.

He chuckled under his breath for a second, his eyes glazing over your face for a moment. “Didn't think you existed outside of school, you look good when you're not telling people to stop skipping class.” He spoke, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words. You rolled your eyes in response, attempting to ignore the second part of his sentence. “Didn't think you were taught to just sneak up on people, color us both surprised.” You bit back, forcing the smile that threatened to creep on your face back when he just laughed in return. He sat down next to you, eyeing your laptop screen before looking back at the basketball court. “So, do you actually do anything but work?” He asked lightly, his eyes gravitated towards yours as he spoke.

You sighed and shamefully shook your head no, keeping your eyes on your laptop screen. “Nope, no social life, hardly any friends, just..work.” You answered, turning your gaze back to the boy next to you. It took a while for you to register it, but he smelled really good. How had you never noticed it before? It was a woody scent of some kind, sort of like the rare cases of wood that smells good as it burns. “I’m trying to figure out the theme for prom this year, but themes can only be so original and I have until mid-April to make a decision.” You muttered, letting out another sigh as you leaned back, letting your head tilt until it hit the tree with an audible thump. Miles watched your movements for a moment, slightly wincing to himself as he watched your head hit the tree.

“Well, I hate to potentially sound like a broken record, but why don't you ask around? You probably would have gotten an answer months ago had you asked the juniors and seniors.” He asked, reaching his hand over and clicking a few things on your laptop. You just moved your hands off the laptop, covering your face and letting out a clearly annoyed groan into your hands. “People don't exactly like me, you know. Besides, the last thing I need right now is someone trying the little bit of patience I have and-” You covered your mouth in an instant, your eyes moving to look at him. Miles just sat before you with an concerned yet amused look on his face, he hadn't ever seen you lose even a hint of your composure before. The sight made him wonder how you really acted when you weren't in council president mode. “You heard nothing.” You spurted out, your words slightly muffled by your hands. Miles just chuckled and pulled the laptop over his thighs, leaning back against the tree with a smirk. “Heard what?” He asked, his heart beating a bit faster once he watched you pull your hands off your face, a small smile taking over your previous expression.

You rested your hands on your lap, mindlessly brushing the material of your clothes back in place. “Well, before we plan on asking anyone else, any ideas from your end?” You asked, peeking over at the laptop screen. Miles shrugged and shifted the laptop towards you, tilting the screen to make it easier for you to see. “Not really a party person, but, the only ones I really hear talking about themes are the girls.” Miles paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about something. “They mostly said they didn't want it to be a color, don't ask me what the hell that means.” He said, watching as you laughed in response. “Well, that makes sense. Most of the girls already have their dresses or what they want in mind, so choosing a color for the theme kinda defeats the purpose, no?” He nodded, turning back to look at the laptop.

“Nah, I get it. Colors being a theme sounds weird as hell anyway.” Miles stopped talking for a moment, looking back at you in his peripheral vision until a thought came into mind. “How ‘bout..I’ll ask around for you, since you're convinced no one likes you in exchange for something.” He said with a small smirk, catching your attention almost immediately. “You’ll ask around for me?” You asked, turning to look at him. You thought about it, it could be a big help, having to ask people about it with your schedule would be relatively impossible. “Fine, but what can I give you in return?” You asked with a confused expression, watching as he sat the laptop next to you on the grass and stood up, dusting himself off. He turned back to look at you, his two braids swaying with his movements. “Check your laptop. I’ll catch you later, President.” He said with a shrug, walking off before you could say another word.

You grabbed your laptop, a lot quicker than you’d like to admit, something typed in the search bar of an empty tab catching your eye.

i think asking around for you in exchange for being your prom date sounds like a fair deal, don't you, President?

[magpiepills]

Rope & Ride

Pairing: Jack Daniels x f!reader

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: Jack gets more than he bargained for when he gets too comfortable doing surveillance.

Warnings: SMUT Dub/non-con, NOT SSC/RACK compliant! Oral (f receiving), restraints, denied orgasms, stalking, breaking and entering, unprotected PIV, creampie, smoking, implied plot, but no substantial story,

A word from the author: Here is my very late entry in @wannab-urs ‘s The Dom That Middle Aged Man Campaign 2025 event. It’s been so much fun getting to share ideas and read stories written by the many wonderful writers involved and I’m so sorry that I’m past the deadline for posting. This is my first time writing Jack and I am so grateful to Gin for putting this whole thing together so that I could try something new.

Masterlist Turgid Members DMAMC25 Masterlist

He must be losing his edge.

You walked down the sidewalk toward your walk up, heels clicking against the concrete, and there he was, following along.

At the cafe drinking your coffee, at the library doing research, and as you shopped, there he was.

Maybe it wasn’t all his fault. A handsome man stands out, just naturally stands out, doesn’t he? Jack certainly does. He’s tall and slim waisted, but broad, broad, broad across his shoulders. He was neat, hair brushed into place, mustache trimmed, face sporting only the barest little scratch of whisker.

He might disguise himself, a suit, a leather jacket, dark aviators, a cowboy hat. Dark brown, never white. He knew he wasn’t a good guy deep down. A good guy wouldn’t follow a woman at all hours of the day and night. He wouldn’t peek in her windows or photograph her when she stopped to talk to someone. He wouldn’t tap her phone.

You wondered what he did with all the “evidence.” And you wondered how much longer you’d need to keep up the charade before he was finally done.

…

The day came one gray, drizzling evening three and a half weeks after you first spotted him. You’d received an urgent call from your sister in Dubuque, begging you to fly home right away, to take the first available flight and tend to an urgent family matter.

You hastily flung your suitcase onto your bed, threw in some clothes and took your coat and left. You hailed a cab beneath a lamp post, obscured by rain and your black umbrella, and disappeared into the night. A week, you’d said. He didn’t know if that included travel, but it was still plenty of time.

Jack got out of his car, a pale blue Mercury, nondescript, nothing flashy, and shut the door quietly. He crossed the street casually, with the confidence of someone who belonged right where they were. Your locked front door was little deterrent. Jack picked it easily, producing two slim tools from his jacket pocket and in less time than it would take to fumble with a key ring in the dark, he was inside.

He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of your apartment, and tuned his ears to the sounds of your apartment. Silent, save for a table fan left on by accident, a ticking clock, and the rain that tapped gently against your windows.

After a few still minutes standing stone still, Jack relaxed. He was careful to be quiet, even though he was alone. A small flashlight was fished from the same pocket where he kept his lock picking tools. He held it in his mouth while he retrieved two gloves from another pocket and put them on, flexing his knuckles against the soft leather. Jack swept the first floor, moving fluidly through your sitting room, your kitchen, past the laundry nook.

Each room was neat, but lived in. You’d obviously left in a hurry, a newspaper was draped over the back of your sofa, stockings dried in the bathroom. He brought the fabric to his nose and breathed in the scent, but only detergent was there, nothing of you. In your medicine cabinet he found the usual things, bandaids, toothpaste, hair pins, ibuprofen. Nothing unsavory or incriminating there, not under your sink. A rummage through your linen closet was the same, revealing only a predilection for soft pinks and fuzzy blankets.

Finding nothing of note in your bathroom, Jack moved to your bedroom. He closed the door behind him and inhaled deeply. It was, like the rest of your apartment, tidy and pretty. Unlike the others, this room smelled like you. Light, sweet, it reminded him of candy and flowers and warm, bare skin. Your bedside table was the first target of his snooping. A small lamp, a book, a framed photo of two young girls and a dog, and your telephone. He held the flashlight in his mouth again, freeing his hands to inspect the book. He flipped the pages and found nothing but a bookmark.

“I know there’s something here. Give it up,” he complained to himself, voice deep and twangy. Your drawer, your dresser, your closet, under your bed, he found nothing he could use. He checked his watch. It had been close to an hour that he had spent exploring your home, violating your privacy, and he had nothing to show for it. Annoyed, he sat on your unmade bed to think. He sat on the edge. He sank into the plush mattress, then took off his hat to lay back. He sighed, relaxing further, and closed his eyes.

Your scent was stronger here, where you slept. With his searching concluded, Jack let himself revel in the sick pleasure of being in your bed. He turned his head and breathed in deeply. He pulled your pillow over his face, and grunted into it as he palmed his thickening cock.

He was never one to take a souvenir, but he made a quick decision. Jack got up from your queen size bed and went back to your dresser. He upended the top drawer and found a silky pair of panties, pink, like you like.

He was certainly losing his edge.

So absorbed in his own pleasure, Jack didn’t hear you come back in. He tilted his hips, bucking against the scrap of girly fabric in his big fist. His jean were shoved halfway down his thighs.

It amused you to watch him. After so many weeks of his stalking and spying, you got the chance to do the same. You were sure he’d seen you in moments of undress. You hadn’t changed your routine after you figured him out, free all. You carried on like normal.

Now, with him in your bed, jerking off with your panties, he was exposed and vulnerable for once. You didn’t feel any shame when you stared at his cock. You studied it, the veins of his thick shaft, the dark hair around the base, the blunt head, blushing and leaking precum that smeared onto your panties with each stroke.

The carpet muffled your footsteps and you were standing between his knees, pistol pointed at his handsome face. Your voice startled him.

“Don’t come.” Your voice was velvety and smooth, but he startled anyway. It made you smile. His hands flew to reach for his own weapon, but he couldn’t reach. How foolish of him.

“Is this what you wanted, Mr. Daniels? You’ve been following me for weeks, everywhere I go, everything I do, there you are. You’ve heard my telephone calls, you’ve got enough pictures for quite an album. If all you wanted was a pair of panties, you should have asked me to dinner like a gentleman.”

“You know what I want,” he spat back, "tell me where it is.”

You hummed thoughtfully, as if you were really considering his demand, then brought your knee to rest on the mattress between his legs.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Jack. Right now you are in my apartment, uninvited, lying in my bed, and doing something very nasty with my panties. I think that it’s time to talk about what I want.” You brought your other knee onto the bed and leaned forward, letting the snub nose of your revolver press into the fabric of his white button up. He didn’t seem to breathe as you dragged it downward over his belly, only making a panicked little cry as the cold gunmetal reached his still hard cock.

You took your panties from his hand, “say ah.”

He obeyed, letting you poke the fabric into his mouth.

“Now, I’m going to get up for just a moment and you are not going to move.” You raised your eyebrows, and nudged him with the short barrel of the gun until he nodded.

Jack closed his eyes and dropped his head onto your bed with a weary sigh.

You returned with a length of pink fabric, the sash of your bathrobe and pulled your reading chair closer to the bed. As instructed, Jack didn’t move. He was still hard and leaking.

“Stand up and strip, Mr. Daniels. Nice and slow.”

The panties in his mouth muffled his hostile ranting, so you pulled them back out, laying the wet, delicate fabric on his chest.

“This isn’t a game,” he hissed, lifting up on his elbows. “You know why I’m here.”

“You’re handsome when you’re angry. Strip.” You wished you had a cocktail right now.

He stood and glared at you, cock bobbing between his legs as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“Slower.” He started to argue but held his tongue, tossing the shirt onto the bed. He pulled his belt from his dark jeans, but you stopped him, holding out your hand for his belt buckle flask.

Of course Jack “Whiskey” Daniels had a full flask. You sipped his bourbon, letting it warm you and nodded for him to continue.

His shirt was first. He unbuttoned it without flair, tossing it onto your bed. His pants were next, already around his thighs, along with his black boxers. He shoved them down and stepped out of them. It wasn’t as sexy as he could have made it if he tried. He’s got a nice body, and he may be unhappy with his predicament, but he’s still hard.

“Turn around for me Jack, give me a little show,” you say, eyes dancing with mischief.

He huffed and turned stiffly. Even if he was mad as a wet hen you were going to enjoy yourself. It wasn’t often you had a man in your bedroom. Not with Jack tailing you, anyway. You weren’t about to give him a free thrill. You tilted your head and drank him in. He was aging, scarred and a little worse for the wear. You liked it. You liked how he looked with a little gray beginning to thread through his hair. He was still lean and strong, fit despite the slight paunch of his belly.

His legs were gorgeous, not the skinny chicken legs a lot of men have, they were shapely, same as his arms. Not bulging with too much silly looking muscle, just right. Nice and toned. His back was the same, his chest, with its sparse hair, dark, tight nipples, skin that must taste salty.

His softening belly, his weak spot, bore a dark patch of hair that lead you gladly down between his legs where your real nemesis hung. That cock of his, long, thick, still hard, even as he scowled at you. It leaned slightly left, which you could have guessed from the bulge you often noticed in his very tight jeans.

Taking the robe belt in your hands, you reached out to wrap it around his cock. You wanted to tie a bow, but Jack’s hands blocked you, hiding himself. That earned him a smack, and a warning.

“Don’t move, Agent Whiskey. Not one move without my permission, do you understand?”

He raised his hands in surrender and muttered. You let the smooth fabric drag over his turgid member, but instead of the bow, you made him turn again.

“Hands behind your back. Turn around for me.”

He closed his eyes, not bothering to argue, and you heard him exhale when you tied his wrists together in a pretty, but very secure pink bow.

You fluffed your bow and turned him to face you once more.

“There. I bet that feels a lot nicer than some old piece of rope, doesn’t it?” You smiled at him.

Jack couldn’t believe his predicament. He had made sure you were gone, he had checked his time, he hadn’t left evidence behind. He was going to jerk himself off into your silky underthings and leave, the panties his only souvenir.he doubted you’d even miss them the way your drawer was full of so many lacy, silky, soft little things. He made a mistake somewhere, and now here he is, naked, hard, tied up in between your bed and your chiffarobe, while you bossed him around. He dare not acknowledge the throbbing erection. It was plain enough for you to see.

You put him on his knees, guiding him down with your dainty little manicured hand on his shoulder. His tired knees sank into the mercifully plush carpet, and he sighed.

He watched you walk back and forth in front of him, small steps in your tall heels. He wondered what you were thinking. He wondered if you really knew what he was looking for. His mind raced, all of his training leaving him woefully unprepared for a scenario like this, especially when your panties fell to your ankles.

You stepped out of them gingerly and swept them aside with the toe of your high heel.

You liked him on his knees. He was better behaved when he was at a disadvantage. His pretty lips pouted, his big dark eyes searched your face for a hint of your next move, widening when you raked your fingers through his hair and gripped it, holding him as you stood before him, balancing on one foot with the other pressing into the edge of the bed behind him.

Jack welcomed your bare pussy against his face. He took it like an offering and accepted your soft, damp lips against his tongue. You stayed still, letting him lap at your folds for a few moments, then began to roll your hips, using his face. His nose, lips, chin, even the scratch of his mustache felt heavenly against your achy center. You kept on, soaking his face until you came.

Jacks cock throbbed between his legs, untouched and rock hard. Droplets of precum dribbled from his tip. You caught your breath on the edge of the bed and watched him, chest expanding between his wide shoulders. You placed one ankle on his shoulder, and leaned back on your palms.

“That was a good start, don’t you think?”

Agent Whiskey licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Real good. Untie me and I’ll make it a good finish too.”

It made you laugh, his confidence. It preceded him, of course, but you hadn’t experienced it for yourself.

“Really, Daniels? I can’t untie you now. We’re just getting started.”

There was only your dainty watch on your bedside table to tell you that more than an hour had passed since you pulled Jack up and onto your bed. More than an hour of him gasping each time you touched him, lip quivering each time you denied him an orgasm.

“Please. Please!” He plead for your mercy as you held his body down with yours, hand around his cock, twisting around it, working upwards and back down tortuously slow. His hairline was damp with sweat.

Each time he got too close you stopped, plucked a cigarette from your case and smoked it, appraising his deconstructed state from a few feet away, then ashed it in a crystal dish.

When his breathing steadied and his whimpering quieted, you took your place on top of him again. This time with his cock situated beneath you, slipping back and forth between your wet folds, never taking him inside, just using his pulsing cock to bring yourself to orgasm once more.

Jack's eyes shone with unshed tears of frustration and he tried in vain to chase his own orgasm. He wondered if he would ever come again or if you’d always stop him. He was crazy with need, mind poisoned with unspent cum.

Not long before the two hour mark, you decided how you’d wrap up this meeting of minds.

You straightened your back, lifted your hips, and slowly sank onto his cock. Your pussy squeezed and pulled him in, making him groan and tug against his restraints.

He was thick and long, filling you, pressing against your body, a wonderful counterpressure to your clenching cunt.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck! Yes!” He babbled, thrusting, stomach tensing, hips pushing up as much as he could manage to meet your thrusts.

You sped up, riding him hard with quick up and down strokes intended to thoroughly drain him of every last drop of cum. His face was a study in surrender. Glassy eyes, mouth slack. You watched him closely and pumped his body with yours. Your own pleasure was undeniable, you’d used his body for countless orgasms since you first caught him in your web. You took another, the first he felt for himself and it was enough. Jack “Whiskey” Daniels flooded you with his milky white cum.

You left him, panting, used up, and wet, not yet aware of how fucked he truly is now, and returned with a Polaroid camera. You snapped shot after shot, his face, his body, his softening cock, and one last shot of yourself, smiling, satisfied, triumphant wearing his hat.

[dreamersparacosm]

I have a feeling OC and Yoongi would get along really well but like in a quiet way...and annoying(whispering) that's it that's the idea

they sooo would! i mean, think about it: oc keeps to herself very much, doesn’t speak in social settings unless she feels she needs to insert herself (obviously not true at work), and when she does finally speak, it’s some one-liner no one forgets. who does that remind you of, you may ask? yoongi. and jungkook fucking hates it (but also loves it)

the price of desire — epilogue blurb 2!

prompt ; in which you’ve met your match, and jungkook’s annoyed it’s not him.

warnings ; none!

You don’t have a lot of friends.

It’s not on purpose, really — you’re not a total psychopath — it’s just that between the corporate ladder you were busy free-climbing with your bare hands and the general soul-crushing speed of your career, there wasn’t a lot of time to seek people out, or maintain them or text them back or remember birthdays.

Or… socialize like a normal human being in any capacity, honestly.

You were always polite. Charming, when you needed to be. Professional to the point of intimidation.

But friendship? That required vulnerability. Time you didn’t have. You’ve spent your whole adult life hoarding those two things like a miser, rationing them out only when absolutely necessary.

So when you first met Jungkook’s circle, the boys he’s built an entire lifetime with, you were cautious and quieter than normal (which was wild, considering you have so much to say it sometimes physically pains you to keep it in.)

You smiled at the right moments. Nodded. Even laughed twice when someone said something genuinely funny. But mostly, you lurked in your corner like a fashion-forward gargoyle, judging people.

Jungkook noticed, because of course he did. The man tracks your movements like you're his favorite Netflix series.

What caught his attention and made his head tilt like a confused puppy was the bizarre wavelength you and Yoongi seemed to share. You were two perfectionists silently communicating through raised eyebrows and microscopic sighs. So professional you make accountants look like chaos demons, constantly eyeing everyone in the room with a level of judgment, and with wit so dry it should come with a dehumidifier warning.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Jungkook wasn’t jealous. Just… intrigued, he said, when you called him out on the weird little pout he tried to hide the first time he caught you and Yoongi side-eyeing Jimin’s questionable outfit choice from opposite ends of the room (and by “intrigued,” he meant he was building elaborate friends-to-lovers fanfiction plots about it in his brain, but whatever. Semantics.)

Which is how you find yourself here today — sitting cross-legged on the pristine floors of a HYBE rehearsal studio, laptop closed at your side, watching Jungkook run through choreography with the rest of the guys while you not-so-subtly whisper to Yoongi during breaks.

It's nice watching Jungkook in his element. The transformation is almost comical, like watching your playful puppy boyfriend suddenly morph into a sleek panther. He's all laser focus and sharp edges, completely locked in with a concentration so intense it could burn holes through concrete.

You rarely get this front-row seat to witness the version of him that's equal parts discipline, raw talent, and charisma. This is the Jungkook who built his name into a global phenomenon, the one who makes teenagers faint.

You should probably be paying more attention. You should be clapping enthusiastically after each run-through, smiling proudly like a good supportive girlfriend.

Instead, you’re currently elbow-deep in a whispered conversation with Yoongi about the fact that someone (you’re not naming names but it rhymes with Schmin) is absolutely not hitting the counts on the bridge section.

“Left foot,” you murmur out of the corner of your mouth, gaze locked on the mirror.

Yoongi, without missing a beat, “Always the left.”

You purse your lips, nodding solemnly, like two battle-worn generals surveying the frontlines.

Across the studio, Jungkook, who’s supposed to be focused on perfecting a complicated turn sequence, catches the whole thing in the mirror.

He sees you lean in closer to Yoongi. Sees Yoongi nodding sagely, the two of you in your own little private world of silent judgment.

He messes up the next turn with a stumble, nearly crashing into Jin before muttering something about "slippery floors" that nobody believes for a second.

When the music cuts and the studio fills with the buzz of professional dancers pretending they're not exhausted, Jungkook makes his way toward you with the desperation of someone trying very hard to look like they aren't rushing. The man has many talents, but subtle he is not.

You don't immediately notice his approach, too busy trying not to choke on suppressed laughter as Yoongi whispers something accurate about the choreographer's hand gestures.

It's only when Jungkook's sneakers announce his arrival with a passive-aggressive squeak on the polished floor that you finally look up. He's standing there, brows furrowed into a perfect v, arms crossed over his chest in what he clearly thinks is an intimidating pose.

You blink up at him innocently, unleashing your sweetest smile. "Hi, baby."

His eyes narrow to suspicious slits, not buying your act for a millisecond. "What's so funny?" he demands, gaze bouncing between you and Yoongi.

You glance at Yoongi. Yoongi glances at you. An entire conversation happens in absolute silence.

The lack of response hits Jungkook harder than any explanation could have.

You shrug with feigned innocence. “Nothing’s funny.”

From beside you, Yoongi deadpans, “Why do you look like someone just stole your lunch money?”

A loud unflattering snort escapes before you can clamp it down and Jungkook's face immediatel flattens.

You make a valiant attempt to contain your amusement, but it's a losing battle against the twitching corners of your mouth and the tremor in your shoulders. Especially when confronted with Jungkook looking like that.

Because — and this is just an objective assessment — Jungkook looks absolutely edible today. His tan and blue Nike tracksuit clings in all the right places, particularly around his waist and thighs. His hair has reached that perfect stage of dishevelment, curling slightly at the ends, falling dark and heavy across his forehead. Cheeks glow with a pink flush, lips parted, eyes sharp and focused.

He looks, quite frankly, delicious. The kind of criminal, offensive, painfully appetizing presence that makes you understand why certain animals bite their mates.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

He glares at you a second longer, like he’s debating whether or not to drag you away by the collar of your shirt, and then dramatically plops down next to you and Yoongi with a grunt.

You and Yoongi immediately adopt a synchronized silence. The transition from animated conversation to complete innocence happens faster than Jungkook can change outfits between performances.

Jungkook's eyes ping-pong between you two with suspicion. "No, no," he says sarcastically "Please. Continue."

You raise a single eyebrow at him while Yoongi doesn't even bother looking up, just leans back on his palms radiating indifference that only comes from a decade of surviving Jungkook's antics.

Another silent communication passes between you and Yoongi, one of those telepathic exchanges that require no actual words but convey entire paragraphs of shared amusement. The silence stretches between the three of you, growing thicker by the second.

That's when Jungkook — survivor of world tours, global media frenzies, and dating you — finally explodes.

"OH MY GOD.” he groans, arms flailing outward. "You’re doing it again."

You release a shameless giggle that does nothing to help the situation, and Jungkook whips toward you with betrayal painted across his unfairly gorgeous face.

"You guys are literally speaking a whole other language!" he accuses, hands gesturing wildly "You didn't even say anything and you still had a whole conversation! How is that fair?!"​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

You laugh harder, reaching for him instinctively. Clutching the fabric of his tracksuit, you pull him close and start planting obnoxiously loud, smacking kisses all over his face — his cheeks, nose, forehead — anywhere you can reach.

He squirms at first, trying to dodge you but he’s laughing by the third kiss, the kind that makes you wonder how you ever survived denying yourself this particular man.

“You’re just mad because Yoongi understands me,” You murmur against his temple, grinning.

Yoongi, maintaining his position as the group's resident unbothered zen master, merely lifts his chin in lazy agreement, a silent validation that encapsulates the quiet solidarity that drew you to him in the first place.

A few feet away, the rest of the guys are watching, half-amused, half-horrified at what’s unfolding before them. But Jungkook appears completely unconcerned with his audience.

He leans into you, arms winding around your waist and pulling you onto his lap, holding you there.

The boys adore you.

He can see it, feel it in the way they welcome you into their lives without hesitation. Jungkook, for all his ridiculous jealousy over silent glances and whispered jokes, can only be so grateful.

Somewhere along the way, without you even noticing, you became theirs too.

And he thinks, with utmost clarity, that this unexpected belonging might be the greatest gift you've ever given him.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

masterlist + request

[cuppajj]

Wait so how are you planning on telling the baau story again?? Or is it already being told and Im just stupid

It’s already being told!

Just don’t expect any linear narrative for now, that’s for the timeline I’ll make. I might get started on it sometime in the future, but it won’t be super detailed and concrete yet (that will probably sadly take til the end of BY, or at least the SS/DE update… there are still many things we need to know)

The way i talk about BAAU’s story is kinda speculative rn, giving little tidbits of lore and character info, some ideas for what would happen in the little narrative I’m weaving together. It’s very loose, just like the way I think about BAAU in my head. (To be fair I’m talking about introductory stuff first instead of dropping all the spoilers and serious arcs, so in a way it’s still kinda linear? Just scattered.)

BAAU likely won’t be an actual fic or webcomic in the conventional sense, with a point A to point B plot. It’ll be told in the pics/minicomics/lore info, because for a massive AU like this that I’m doing purely for fun, I’m not going to try and stress over treating it like an actual project. Take away all the intricate details, you guys are just watching me play in a sandbox

TLDR; BAAU’s story is already being told, there’ll be a timeline wip so things can be understood in a more linear narrative way, but for all intents and purposes, this is it baby

If you want to follow along btw, the best way to do it is by reading the masterpost!

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

EVEN MORE SPOILERS FOR SEASON 6

I figured since I already read it, I'd give my thoughts on the recent interview Astruc and Thibaudeau took part in.

Due to incompatibility with the new animation engine, SAMG will not be working on the next seasons of ‘Miraculous’. The series is now being developed entirely in France, with the integration of Dwarf Animation.

Okay, props for no more outsourcing, even if I'm not sure what this means for the other ZAG shows.

Season 6 is considered to be “a new beginning”, aside from being a new story arc. It is sometimes referred to by the writers as Season 1.

I'm sure that isn't confusing to the executives at all. Also, maybe don't imply you're starting from scratch when you're already reusing the plot of the main villain using the Butterfly Miraculous.

The writing team already has concrete ideas for how Seasons 7, 8 and 9 will begin and end. They also have ambitions to make it to a Season 12, only if the support of viewers and executives allows them to do so. With this, they emphasize the fact that they would not continue with the show if it were no longer needed or interesting.

So basically, they're planning to keep this up for as long as they can until someone pulls the plug.

The opening of the sixth season is still undecided. They are still discussing whether they will change the musical arrangement or not. Thomas also considers the possibility of making a brand-new theme song. A song has been confirmed for S6. They have the music, the arrangement and a female singer. The character remains unknown.

Imagine how funny it would be if they brought back the woman who sang for Marinette in the movie instead of having Cristina Vee sing again.

Despite leaving Paris at the end of ‘Revolution’ (5x23), Chloé Bourgeois will return in Season 6.

Putting aside all the things I've said about her "damnation arc", what is even the point of bringing her back at this point? She has no powers, no influence, no allies, and isn't a threat of any kind. This makes her not being the next Hawkmoth make even less sense, becuse she has more of a reason to hate Ladybug than Lila does.

Also, with the news that Chloe is coming back, this means that she essentially escaped punishment or at least found a way to rebound like Lila did. So that's a grand total of ZERO villains who actually got punished for their actions after five seasons. I'm starting to think Ladybug and Cat Noir really suck at their jobs.

Sebastien Thibadeau: “[Cerise] (IOTA: I'm still calling her Lila for simplicity's sake) is a villain without costume. She is a villain all the time. There is a reason why, but this reason, neither I nor Astruc will reveal to you yet.” Interviewer: “You mean you already intend to tell it?” Thomas Astruc: “Yes. And you know what, we have already told it, but you haven’t noticed.”

Translation: Ladies and gentlemen, LET'S GET READY FOR RETCOOOOOONNNNS!

Seriously, we are approaching the sixth season of this show. It has been eight years since Lila first appeared all the way back in "Volpina", and we still know nothing about her other than the fact that she has some three moms for some reason. You can't pull the whole "This is something you need to rewatch to understand!" excuse because the last two seasons hinged on breaking the rules about Sentimonsters.

Speaking of, I love how this comment about Lila accidentally implies that Gabriel never did anything evil when he wasn't Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth/Monarch. All that emotional abuse and isolation Adrien suffered was all out of love!

Thomas Astruc on Chloe redemption arc: “We put the characters in situations, and then we say to ourselves: “what would be the logic?” How would the character logically react in “such and such” a situation? And we tried, we tried everything. But every time, we say to ourselves: “if we write this, it’ll be wrong”. There’ll be no reason, it’ll come out of nowhere, the fact that she’ll face something nice and say: “Oh, I’ve been horrible, Marinette what have I done! From now on, I’ll be...” No, nonsense. I understand people’s desire for Chloe to be nice. I’d like that too. But I’d like it if in real life, people with a lot of power suddenly started doing nice things. But Chloé has no interest in changing. She has no reason to change, unfortunately.”

Ah, yes because Gabriel (Global terrorist and abusive parent), Felix (Betrayed Ladybug and temporarily wiped out all of humanity on a whim), Nathalie (Willing accomplice to Gabriel) Andre (corrupt politician and Chloe's primary enabler), Sabrina (Willing accomplice to Chloe) all had compelling reasons to change their ways.

Also, "I've been horrible, what have I done?"

MY BROTHER IN CHRIST, THAT'S HOW VIRTUALLY EVERY REDEMPTION ON THIS SHOW IS EXECUTED.

The fact that he's seriously acting like he actually wanted to write a redemption arc is insulting. Not only does it ignore all the things he's said to fans who were upset at the turn of events, but it makes no sense for him to take this stance because he's a writer. If Chloe turning a new leaf is too strange of an idea, then write an actual character arc allowing her to progress to a state where she recognizes what she's done is wrong. You control the character for God's sake! It's not like you're training a dog to stop humping the couch. You can change things to make a redemption arc possible.

In other words, Astruc is either lying to save his ass, or THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES about writing characters.

Sebastien Thibadeau talks about Andre's character development: In contrast to Chloe, “Andre Bourgeois evolved as a character because we had already imagined a back story. He had the potential to change, and that’s where the beautiful scene comes from — I think it’s magnificent — between Gabriel and himself on the roof of the Grand Palace, where he says: “But Gabriel, what’s become of us? We’ve forgotten the kids we used to be”. But we [writers] know what kids they used to be, and we’d like to tell the story one day, to show what young kids they were, when they were struggling through Paris and weren’t yet what you’ve come to know in the series. He’s sad about what’s happening to his daughter [Chloe], and he’s trying to change it, but he can’t. He is proof that a character can change.”

This. This right here is what cinched it for me. I've tried for years not to say it because it's a word that has been flung around a lot over these last few years, but I feel like this little snippet is enough of a reason for me to say it.

These writers are sexist.

They may not believe it, but whether they intended for it or not, they wrote a story arc where a grown man was shown to have more sympathetic qualities than his daughter. How the hell can you defend it in a way that doesn't highlight the misogyny that this show runs on?

The fact that they gush over how much "potential" Andre had right after saying how that same kind of potential wasn't enough of a reason to attempt a redemption arc with Chloe really shows how confusing their priorities are. I'm sorry to keep saying this, but for a show that takes a heavy anti-capitalist philosophy, it seems like the members of the 1% are the characters who get the most depth and sympathy... unless you're under 18 and lack a Y chromosome, that is.

A meeting will be set up in the coming weeks to decide on whether or not to make a live-action for ‘Miraculous’, Thomas Astruc reveals.

As a former Arrowverse fan, I'm willing to see this out. Not only did the Netflix One Piece series prove you can make an animated property work in live-action, Ladybug & Cat Noir: The Movie managed to do really well even without the usual writers behind it.

Thomas when asked about Gabriel’s wish in ‘Re-Creation’ (5x26) and whether he brought Emilie back to life: “All the answers are in the episode.”

For the love of--STOP SAYING THAT!

You keep claiming that we just need to rewatch the episode to understand things, but between the continuity errors and abandoned subplots, it's hard to tell what's important and what isn't. Either say "No comment" or give us an honest answer.

If people are still confused about how the season ended after almost a year, and you keep giving answers like this:

Maybe you need to change the way you tell the story.

Astruc when asked about ‘The Supreme’: “Oh, if only you knew... Nothing we do is meaningless.”

Sebastien Thibadeau on Season 7: “Once you’ve seen the start of season 7, I can swear you’ll watch season 6 a second time. That’s all I can say.”

Because it'll make Season 6 look like a masterpiece by comparison?

Thomas Astruc on the worldbuilding: There are Kwamis and Renlings, what makes you think there aren’t others [creatures]?

I swear, by the time we get to Season 10, we're going to get stuff like aliens, demons and talking mushrooms, or at least something ludicrous like that.

Zoe had a love at first sight when she met Marinette in ‘Sole Crusher’ (4x07), they confirm.

Of course! That's why it wasn't framed any differently from something like the umbrella scene and Zoe showed absolutely no signs of attraction to Marinette! It's genius!

Executives had Thomas write several alternative concepts for ‘Miraculous’, very different from what we know today or even the early PV. Among them, “a concept where Ladybug is the head of a group of superheroines, like Sailor Moon. There was no love story.”

Can you imagine a world without the Love Square?

The script writers’ favorite episode is ‘Simpleman’ (4x19) as it represents a personal, work and family attachment. Marinette’s grandfather, Roland Dupain, is inspired by Thomas Astruc’s grandfather.

Okay, either Astruc had a complicated relationship with his grandpa or he's been dead for years. While I understand that older generations have outdated views (for example, my great-grandmother yelled at me for saying I wanted to learn Japanese because "They tried to kill us!"), the fact that a caricture of a grumpy old man was based on his grandpa is a little concerning.

Also, between this and Sabine being based off an old flame of his, this only makes the theory that Chloe is based off a real person Astruc knew more plausible.

Astruc: “This is why our work is so difficult. We have to manage to bring in this generation of younger ones, and at the same time, we have to satisfy the generation that was here before and that grows with the series.”

First, if you're trying to please older fans, maybe don't get into fights with them on Twitter.

Second, you made a thread after "Simpleman" aired where you insulted fans for not getting the "meta" element to the episode and compared them to the character you just said was based on your grandfather.

You've also been burning away a lot of the older fans' goodwill over the years. Trust me, I have a few examples.

Despite sharing a similar appearance, the symbol on Nino’s T-shirt is not related to Hack-San.

Okay, is this a fan theory I missed back when Season 4 was airing? Why would anyone draw that conclusion?

Thomas Astruc talks about Season 6: “I’ll say it sincerely, I was very doubtful at the end of Season 5. I said to myself: “if we were to continue, how would we exceed?” Well, we did. It’s been a great season. The new writers have brought us a lot of great stuff. All the episodes we’ve written in Season 6 are fabulous. Each episode is on point, there is no unnecessary lines. All the scenes are really interesting, really well-crafted.”

Translation: Tons of filler, bad comedy, reused Akumas, and more Love Square drama that we're trying to claim hasn't been done before.

Thomas when asked if Marinette will get akumatized: “We never give any information about what may or may not happen.”

JUST. SAY. NO. COMMENT.

There are many important details throughout the series that no one has noticed. Thomas says that when we see the next seasons, we’ll think, “Oh, the writers had it all planned.”

You know, like how Season 3 established that Sentimonsters can be sent out of control by Cataclysm a few episodes before Adrien, a Sentimonster, gets hit by a Cataclysm and is affected in a different way. It was all planned from the beginning.

The Ladybug PV was an animation test and was not intended to be public. Jeremy Zag decided to leak it himself.

Honestly? Dick move on Zag's part. You have to wonder how pissed off Astruc was.

According to Thomas Astruc, what the ‘Miraculous’ series is today represents only 5% of what he wrote in the original bible he presented to Jeremy Zag. “The universe has evolved a lot since. I don’t know if the ideas I put there will be reused someday. It was very extensive.”

Thomas Astruc and Sebastien Thibadeau discuss the parallels between Marinette and Gabriel: Astruc: “Gabriel’s personal back story is the cause of his misery, not his will. And above all, it creates a beautiful mirror with Marinette, which is what’s interesting. They both have a lot of love for Adrien, they’re both designers, they both have a Miraculous, but it’s other choices.” Thibadeau: “That’s what makes it a great hero-villain contrast. Even if they don’t know it from the start, they have a real point in common. As we see at the end of Season 5, they both love Adrien. Except there’s one who does it by doing the right thing, and then there’s another who does it by doing the wrong thing, hurting people, to get there.”

And the one who did the wrong thing by hurting people ended up winning. What does that say about the contrast?

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

And that's it for the interview. I have to say Season 6 does not look pretty so far.

[yuri-is-online]

Episode 9 Thoughts

I actually really liked this episode TᴖT I wasn't expecting much lore or plot building? But this was surprisingly light on filler.

Not Super Spoilery Facts:

Zenji says Romeo comes from "the famous House of Lucci." I made a joke about it, but basing Romeo's family off of the Gucci family actually makes a lot of sense. The Gucci brand is no longer controlled by the Gucci family for a variety of reasons, including financial problems and that murder they recently (?) made a movie about. I think this is really neat and a fantastic idea for his character, there's so much drama you can work with in high fashion and it makes just that much more sense about why he would be mad that he's not in Frostheim. He should be, they're all wearing clothes with his family name on it, but he can't be because he doesn't own the company.

Zenji does watch over Jiro constantly. That's not a super confirmed thing but between his attitude in this Episode and the campus event it's safe to say he probably follows Jiro around as much as he does Haku.

I promise I paid attention to more people than just Zenji (even though the mission never would have succeeded without him, everyone praise best boy NOW). Here let me prove it:

SPOILERS

This is mostly just for me but Romeo's nicknames/his "personal network" he references when calling for help are: Kurossa (Leo), Harry (Haru, wonder if he picked that up from Taiga or Taiga picked it up from him), and Mickey (Rui). I think he probably also considered Kaito one of his "network" because of how much he stalks him but that's just me lol.

Speaking of which lets talk about Kaito for a second. He says he doesn't remember much about the clash "because he was doing his own thing" but the timeline between when Romeo started stalking him and the events of the clash line up perfectly. To me it looks like there are two elements to Romeo's obsession, the first is obviously the pendant but the second... probably still has something to do with the pendant if we are being honest but since everything in the story has to do with the Clash probably that too. There is a piece of blackmail Romeo shows him that Kaito screams about:

My initial thought was that it was a picture of him in his underwear trapped in one of Romi's cages, but we saw that in Episode 4 or something related to his debts and to be fair? That's probably the most likely scenario. Kaito has a gambling problem (call 180-GAMBLING please bby) so there's probably no end to the dirt Romeo has on him. I do wonder if it's a bit more sensitive though but that's just me. Anyway Kaito mentions he never saw Romeo in the Casino until he started chasing him around... which makes me think the likely timeline for Romeo and Taiga's falling out can be placed somewhere around the same time. If they were working together and projecting a united front there would be no need for Romeo to do so much damage control.

That pendant is clearly important, we get a closer look of the insignia on it because Romeo finds a bracelet with the same insignia after he digs up a grave in the cemetery:

To me, this is still not enough detail and I want more but I feel fairly confident in saying this is a Heraldic symbol of some sort. As outlined here the Frostheim ghouls appear to have a sort of chess theme to their names with Kaito being the pawn. In chess pawns can become Queens if it reaches the end of the chess board, which I bring up because the insignia itself, at this point to me, appears to depict an eagle with a crown above it's head. Eagles are symbols of power and the favorite of many real world royal families, as is combining them with crowns to form a royal insignia. I need to do more research before I make concrete claims? But my initial searches have suggested that crowns are only ever used to symbolize royalty or important religious figures, and that eagles are usually double headed. A single headed eagle with a crown has been the symbol of countries like Germany, Austria, and Poland, but this eagle lacks the shield at the center for the first two and the polish eagle actually wears it's crown. I could also be reading waaaaaaay too much into this? But I'd like to think I am being perfectly normal.

Speaking of which we are told in the chapter that the graveyard plays host to "long term foreign residents." The bodies there are not cremated and it is very likely that, assuming Kaito got his pendant from a relative, that Romeo literally dug up and stole from Fuji's great great great grandparent. What a girlboss:

This person has been dead for so long they are only bones, and the only other object in their coffin is the metal bracelet. That's an old ass body, and it doesn't belong to a native Japanese person if we take what Romeo said earlier seriously. This is someone who moved to Japan and maintained enough wealth to be buried with an expensive tombstone. So why no name on the stone and where did they move from?

In less detailed? News Jiro has an extreme reaction to the crying child ghost encountered near the start of the chapter. Specifically he has a reaction to him saying "it hurts." Zenji also reacts to this, he scoops up the boy and takes him away. Later he regrets not attempting to "soothe the boy with a fairy tale." Jiro's memory loss is a side effect "of a certain tragedy that befell him." The timeline of whatever happened to the Kirisaki siblings is vague... but I think it goes something like this:

The brothers make their deal with their demons. They might do this together? Personally I lean towards Zenji doing it first in an effort to do something that will get him and Jiro out of whatever bad situation they are in and Jiro, not wanting to be babied and prove he can take care of himself, does the same thing. The reverse is also possible where Jiro makes his deal and Zenji follows suit because he feels responsible for protecting him, but either way Zenji does or says something he later comes to regret. This causes a rift between the brothers that remains unresolved through the Clash, and makes ghost Zenji reluctant to reveal himself to his brother. I lean towards them being injured around the same time? Either in the same incident or Jiro being injured first and the reason why Zenji was able to stick around. He says he wants to be an illustrious author, but really I think he just wants to make sure Jiro doesn't die. And now he also wants to cure the MC's curse, what a swell fella.

While Jiro clearly doesn't remember Zenji in detail, I don't think his memory is less fried than it first appeared. When MC attempts to get Jiro to go back to the others this happens:

I don't know how this reads in Japanese, but in English it's a really odd sentence. It's a mix up of two common phrases referring to team work: two hearts beating as one + team work makes the dream work. It's a very unique mixed metaphor, and exactly the sort of silly thing Zenji is saying all of the time so if Jiro remembered his brother... he'd probably remember him saying something like that.

... this chapter really did make me scream I'm going to miss Zenji so much.

[lazarusrisingx]

Power surge PT1

Yandere big brother!caleb x non-mc reader

Tw: porn with some plot. Incest, brat tamer Caleb, mean dom caleb, size kink, overstimulation, punishment, petplay, using toys on reader, fingering, breeding kink, yandere caleb, degradation, impact play

Summary: you move in with your older brother since your college is out for the summer, you dont think Caleb would remain the same overbearing, overprotective older brother that he always was when you were kids, so you decide to stay out late one night. 

note: i havent written smut in a while so lemme know what yall think! if this does good ill probs make a part two. ive been working on this for a few days now so yippee!

Skyhavens night life was quite different than that of linkon cities. It was safer. The armed patrol men stood every hundred feet, cop cars patrolled at regular intervals, and every bar had a bouncer. You weren't very shocked, it was a smaller area than lincoln, the resources needed for constant patrols was significantly less than what linkon would need. 

You had decided to go out with a few college friends. A few drinks and a little dancing never hurt anything, did it? It had been about a month since you had seen them last, staying at Caleb's house was nice but it did leave you a bit isolated from your besties. Who could blame you for wanting to get out and have some fun?

So now, it was well past midnight, and after a lot more than just a few drinks, you struggled to enter the code to get into Caleb's house. With one hand on the door, heels beside your aching feet on the ground, you hunched over the scanner, scowling at the little red dot as it continued to flash. 

After your third attempt, a sharp chirping sound came from the code pad, the screen flashed with a security alert, and you could hear the other locks engaging on the door. 

“Shit.” you muttered. 

Caleb had more security than he needed. After 3 failed attempts the house would go into lockdown mode. Extra locks engaging on every door and every window, cameras would begin to film in high resolution with color and audio, if you did manage to make it into the house a message would be sent to the nearest cop cars to come to this location. 

Dizzy, you step back, the cold concrete gritted into the soles of your bare feet as you bring out your phone. Caleb was most likely asleep by now, but it would be worth it to give him a call.

The phone had hardly gotten through its first ring when the front door was swung open. Startled, you stumbled back a little bit and looked up to see Caleb, there was a cold look on his face and his eyes bore into yours. 

“Inside.” he grunted, he stooped to pick up your shoes, and when you didnt move he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the house himself. 

The lockdown was quickly uninitiated, Caleb tapped a few buttons on his phone to make it go away before locking the door again. You stepped into the hallway, a bit uncomfortable by how angry he looked. Caleb never mentioned you had to be home by a certain time. Maybe you had woken him up out of his sleep?

“Sorry Caleb, it was terrible trying to get a cab.” you said, trying to steady your voice so he didn't know you were drunk. 

Caleb stayed quiet as you walked for the couch, tripping over the edge of the carpet and catching yourself on the armrest of a leather chair. 

“Do you have any idea how damn late it is?” Caleb asked. There was an angry edge to his voice, cold and steely. You had only heard him use this tone when you had fucked up badly, or when he was in ‘colonel-mode’ as you liked to call it. 

“Relax caleb im out this late often.” you muttered, you walked around the couch and sat, letting out a satisfied groan to be off your feet. 

“Really? Till’ 3am? Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be out wandering alone? Without any damn shoes? Drunk?” Caleb asked. His voice began to raise as he stood in front of you. 

You massage your temples and shake your head, annoyance beginning to seep into you. 

“You've always been like this Caleb, can't you just chill? God damn you're annoying sometimes. I'm not little anymore! I have a knife, and the pepper spray you bought me.” you reasoned. 

Caleb shook his head, his arms folded and he glared down at you. 

“That isn't gonna stop someone if you're too drunk to realize they've been sneaking up on you.” he replied. 

You waved a hand at him, turning away and pulling out your phone. 

“Go to bed caleb, we arent fucking kids anymore i dont have or need a curfew.” you responded. 

As the phone screen lit up, Caleb stepped forward, snatching your phone from your hand. You tried to snatch it back, but he put his mechanical arm on your shoulder, pushing you into the couch as he peered into your eyes. 

“Clearly you need one because you're too stupid to realize there are awful people even here in Skyhaven. What if you went home with someone? Huh? You're just gonna sleep with me’? Just gonna give it to some random guy like a damn whore?” he said. 

You were a bit shocked, and it showed on your face, Caleb shook his head. 

“What the fu-”

“Dont give me that ‘oh what the fuck caleb’, no, you go out, you get drunk, and you make mistakes. Mistakes like sleeping with some random guy and not-” he cut himself off this time. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. The two of you argued quite a bit, but you hadn't had an argument this tense for a long time. Caleb squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. 

“I'm not going out to sleep with anyone because you make it sound like I'm a whore! And I don't have rules anymore Caleb, not for a long time!” you said. 

Caleb clenched his jaw, and opened his eyes to peer down at you. 

“Really? You think things changed just because you moved away?" Caleb asked. 

He inched in a little closer, the phone in his hand fell onto your lap, now empty he placed his hand on the other side of your body, caging you against the couch. His mechanical arm shifted its position, now grasping onto your forearm. The cool metal vibrated slightly against your skin, the fingertips pressed into your flesh ensuring you couldn't move anywhere. 

“Yeah. thats kinda how becoming an adult works you fuckin’ idiot.” you spat back. 

Caleb's nose twitched and he suddenly smirked. 

“Really? So that's what you wanted tonight right? To go out and get fucked? Tell me lil’ sis, how'd that go over when we lived with gran again? You remember that?” he asked. 

His voice was quieter now, a lingering threat behind it as you remembered what he spoke about. It was something the two of you swore to never speak about again. The thought of it made your cheeks flush and your stomach squeezed. 

“Sh-shut up, fuckin’ weirdo that not-”

“Oh so you do remember right? You know what being a brat gets you? If I recall , my little punishment kept you quite satisfied. I can even distinctly remember a few times after, comin’ in my room with your cheeks red, asking-no begging me t-”

“I said shut up!” you responded, cheeks now bright pink, your hand shot up to clamp over his mouth, but Caleb dodged it with a sly grin. He gripped your arm tighter and pulled you off the couch and to your feet. 

“See you made a mistake tonight you know that.” Caleb said, your back was facing him, your shoulders pressed into his chest as he snaked an arm around your waist. Your heart hammered, but you didn't stop him, one part curious, another part paralyzed. A heat bloomed between your legs, memories of secret, forbidden nights with Caleb coming back all at once. 

You had tried to forget them. Ashamed of what the two of you had done, and the other part of you missed it. Maybe that's why you couldn't bring yourself to go to more than second base with anyone since moving. 

“C’mon don't go quiet on me now pip-squeak, you were such a brat earlier, where'd that fight go hm?” he asked. His head dipped down, his breath lilted over your neck as he chuckled. 

Caleb pushed the two of you forward, you were stumbling over your feet being guided by him, a mixture of drunkenness, and the face Caleb was so close behind you. 

“You're a bastard.” you mumbled back to caleb. 

Another laugh escaped Caleb, he leaned down, sweeping your legs out from under you and carrying you bridal style. He took one look at your face and shook his head as he walked down the hallway, down to your bedroom. 

“Y’know i found something while you were gone.” he said. 

You stared at him curiously, glancing around your room as the two of you entered it. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

He stayed silent as he set you on the bed, gentle as ever. Caleb turned, and walked to the dresser, pulling open your panty drawer and rifling around. 

“Hey wait! You fuckin’ creep dont look in there!” you said. You stood up, realizing what he was talking about, and tried to grab Caleb away. 

An invisible force pushed you back towards the bed, Caleb's Evol held you in place as he produced a few barbie pink toys from your drawer. 

“These are pretty new pip-squeaks. Did you buy them just for me to find?” he asked. There was a hint of amusement in his voice, his eyes gleamed devilishly as he faced you. 

Your face burned with embarrassment not a single comeback came to mind as he got closer, turning your vibrator around in one hand and looking it over. You didn't even think about the fact that he must've been rifling through your panty drawer earlier. He saw all the pretty lace lingerie you had, the pairs of thongs, silky bras. You were desperately trying to think of something to say, your mouth opened and closed as Caleb stared expectantly at you. When you were silent, he sighed, and took another step forward, this time looking over the dildo you had stashed away. 

“Y’know lil’ sis’ i will say this surprised me. A vibrator is one thing, but a dildo? Your little fingers couldn't reach far enough when you were pumping your cunt hm? I mean, this is quite small, you know it never feels as good as your big brother right? Or is this all that pretty pussy of yours can handle since I haven't been there to stuff that tiny hole?” caleb asked. 

You looked away. “I-shut up caleb! I-i just needed some help is all. Im not-i dont go out just to have sex you were wrong about that okay? Just put them away! Fuckin’ pervert!” you responded. 

Caleb closed the distance between you two, sitting on the bed and letting your toys fall into your lap, all of them except the dildo, he looked it over, unimpressed. 

“Really? Have you had sex with anyone since you left?” he asked. 

The question hung in the air, waiting for a response. You didn't want to answer. It was a bit embarrassing, quite frankly. It's not like you didn't have plenty of opportunities to sleep with someone. It's just that… you didn't. 

“Have you?” you questioned back, trying to get around answering caleb. 

“No.” he responded quickly. Caleb leaned towards you as you looked back at him in surprise, a small smile on his face. 

“Does that shock you pip-squeak?” he asked. 

You nodded. Caleb's friends always made it seem like he was some sort of womanizer. They talked about him always taking a girl home and coming back quite late in the night afterwards. There was even a rumor in high school that he slept his way through the cheer team. 

“You didn't answer my question though. Did you sleep with anyone else? Or… have you been waiting for your dear brother to come and take care of you again? You know you could've just asked right?” Caleb said. 

There was a hint of desperation in his voice, he was staring so intensely at you that you wouldn't think for a moment. His lilac eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and pleading. He wanted your response quite badly. 

“I-i don't think i need to caleb, it-it's not important okay just, lets go to bed.” you responded. 

His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. Caleb sat up a bit, climbing onto the bed as his evol released you from your held position. You attempted to stand up, but a strong arm wrapped around your waist and dragged you into Caleb's lap. You sat facing away from him, head pressed into his chest as he clicked his tongue with disappointment. 

“No no, i want answers from you.” he responded, his arm held you in place, his legs settled between yours, jutting out to make your thighs part, the hem of your dress slid up your thighs. A small noise of surprise escaped as he did this. 

“What do you think you're doing caleb!” you exclaimed. He remained silent, his non-mechanical arm reached out and easily brushed the tender flesh of your thigh. His muscles tensed under you, and you could feel a growing hard-on pressing into your back. 

“You won't gimme an answer, and you've been such a damn brat all night. What do you think I'm doing princess?” he asked quietly. 

Butterflies erupted in your belly, you squirmed in his arms and he only held you tighter, his biceps bulged against you as a quiet laugh vibrated through you. 

“Still so small, it's like fighting with a little puppy, you know that? I mean, at one point I thought you might grow a little more, get some more muscle, but here you are still just so tiny up against me.” Caleb said. 

“Shut up! Caleb, stop being a pervert!” you said. 

He placed his chin on top of your head, his hand suddenly grabbed the fat of your thigh and squeezed painfully, eliciting a whimper and stopping your movements. Caleb stiffened underneath you and you felt his erection twitch in his pants. 

“Do that again princess.” he asked, squeezing your thigh a little harder. 

Another whine, a little louder this time, and you started to squirm. 

“That hurts stupid!”

Caleb shook his head, sighing in frustration at your struggle. 

“C’mon stay still, be a good girl for your big brother alright? Just take your punishment properly and I might go easy okay?” he pleaded. 

His voice oozed with a sympathetic, almost apologetic tone. His hand caressed the now sore part of your thigh, his hands were a lot bigger, and much more calloused now. The sensation was pleasant, making you pause your struggle against him for a moment. You tried to look up at him, catching a glimpse of his lust filled eyes. He stared down at you like you were prey caught in a trap, his eyes never left your thighs as he continued to gently massage you. After a moment he dragged his eyes down to your face. 

“What a good little sister, so calm for me now…” he cooed. The arm holding you in place moved upwards a bit, when the two of you wrestled as kids he always put you in a headlock, this position reminded you a bit of that. 

“Caleb…” you whined quietly. He raised an eyebrow glancing at your slowly parting legs. Your core was throbbing now. You hardly noticed until now how worked up he was getting you. Just by gently massaging your legs. 

His fingers trailed downwards, leaving chills in their wake. You shivered slightly, shutting your eyes as you took a deep breath, prepared to feel his fingers slowly pull away your panties. 

God you don't know how long you had been waiting for this. Whether consciously or not, your body was so excited to feel his familiar touch again. You waited, feeling his hands draw closer to your clothed pussy, wetness had dampened your panties already, a surge of embarrassment ran through you as you thought about how wet he got you. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words were robbed from you as a sudden smack came across your thigh. A loud cry left your mouth, and you bucked slightly from the pain, trying to move away from the cruel hand now aiming for your other thigh. 

“W-wait caleb-”

“You were so bad earlier, you didn't think I'd forget right? You thought I'd let you off easily cause you spread your legs for me like a slut huh?” Caleb asked. 

Another smack, this time bringing tears to your eyes and a whimpering moan. The pain stung deliciously, your core throbbed with need as you tried to slam your legs shut. It only earned another slap, and soon an invisible force pulled you up. Caleb stayed under you, and guided you back down to the bed, this time your face was pressed into the comforter, your ass was across his lap and received a gentle massage. 

“You need a good punishment. Been able to be a fuckin’ brat for so long havent you? Don't worry pip-squeak your big brother knows exactly what you need to behave." Caleb replied. 

Smack! His palm came down roughly on your ass, a cry escaped you and you tried to pull away from Caleb. He was still so much stronger than you. He put a hand around the back of your neck, holding you down with just a bit of force, another smack, followed by a volley of cruel spanks against your ass. 

Tears pricked out of your eyes, you could only whine and cry out, your voice muffled slightly by the bed underneath you. 

“Oh I know princess, it hurts doesn't it?” Caleb cooked. His voice dripped with faux sympathy. He was always so cruel like this. 

A muffled yes came from you, only to turn into a yell as he slammed his palm against your ass as hard as he could. The smack echoed in the room, and you felt like you were going to see stars. The breath was knocked out of you as it came again, and again, and again. Your dress did little to soften the blow, and after the third smack, Caleb dragged the skirt over your ass to admire the now bright red handprints he had left. 

“Think that was enough little sis?” Caleb asked. He leaned over you, dragging something across the bed as you pathetically whimpered and cried. Your ass felt hot and stung badly. 

“Mhm, y-yes Caleb,” you said weakly. 

Caleb hummed quietly, he slowly parted your thighs, giving them a gentle massage once more. 

“You did such a good pip-squeak. I know it hurts so much doesn't it?” he asked. His voice was gentle, he leaned towards your head, letting go of the grip he held on your neck as his hands inched towards your panties. 

“It does…” you muttered. 

“Oh I'm sorry love, do you want me to make it feel better? Wanna feel good now right?” he asked. There was a teasing tone in his voice. 

“Please,” you said. 

His fingers grazed over your clothed clit, drawing slow, feather light circles above it. The feeling made you twitch and arch your back slightly, a quiet groan escaping your mouth. You had completely soaked your panties, Caleb could only smile widely knowing you got off on his spanking. He knew you did, that was always your favorite punishment from him. No matter how you whined and begged for him to stop, he knew you always wanted more. 

“Such a poor thing, you're so pathetic.” Caleb cooked. He pressed down a little more on your hardened nub, slowly rubbing up and down. The sensation was dulled by the barrier of fabric, but you were still able to feel the tingling pleasure. A quiet groan escaped you again, which built into a sharp yelp as Caleb landed a harsh slap against your pussy. 

“Too bad I'm not done punishing you isn't it?” Caleb growled, all the faux-sympathy was gone from his voice, any gentle tone left as if it had never been there to begin with. 

You tried to escape the harsh smacks against your cunt, your clit throbbed with a mix of pain and pleasure, you attempted to sit up, only to be harshly held down again. 

“Stupid dumb little slut. Think imma stop now? God there really must be nothing in that brain anymore huh? Not till you answer my question princess, quite crying and telling me. How many other guys did you let in this pussy? Were they better than your big brother's cock? Huh? Answer me slut!” he demanded. 

His hand kept pounding down on you, your brain fuzzed with the mix of pain and pleasure surging through your body, you tried to form an answer, but only a pathetic amount of crying and whimpering could leave you. If he just stopped for a moment you could tell him! But it was damn near impossible. You were left to simply take it, listening to his cruel remarks. 

“I waited till you came back y’know? Waited so long so i could have you again, all to myself, no more reason to be quiet, i can do whatever i want to you now, but your such a slutty bimbo you try and go get fucked while your here with me? Fuckin’ disrespectful you know that? You know how much i fucking love you? Makes me wanna tie you up in this little room and keep you here. So you can only see me, only be with me, so those pretty eyes will only look at me." Caleb growled. 

He finally paused his spanking. You were out of breath, the room spun around you as you quietly cried and tried to form a sentence. 

“D-didnt… i didnt… mmph.. Caleb, di-didn't-”

“Didnt what? Didn't know?” he questioned. 

You shook your head, your legs trembled. 

“Didnt.. Fuck anyone.. Else.” you whimpered. 

The room grew quiet, and Caleb let out a deep breath. His hands went back to massaging your now heated and slightly bruised ass and thighs. 

“You didn't?” he asked quietly. His voice hasn't lost that edge, but it did soften. He was still angry with you. 

“N-no, ‘m promise.” you mumbled. 

He squeezed your thighs again, forcing them to part. His fingers found your clothed clit once more and applied a bit of pressure, rubbing circles once more, this time with a bit more force than before. A string of moans left your mouth as your head slumped against the pillow. He seemed satisfied by your answer. 

“That's my good girl,” he said softly, the mean edge had left his voice, replaced by the softer tone you knew very well. You whined at the praise, earning a quiet chuckle from Caleb again. 

“You like that huh? Being my good girl? Mmm… you are such a good little sister you know that? So patient, even refusing other guys so you can be with your big brother huh?" Caleb asked. 

You nodded, and Caleb's fingers pressed more firmly to your clit. Your thighs trembled and tried to close together again, Caleb's hand left your neck and firmly held them open. 

“Don't try to stop it, just let me make you feel good,” Caleb murmured gently. 

You whimpered in response, especially loud when his hand left your clit. You were prepared to feel another harsh smack, but instead, your panties slowly slid down your ass, and your dress pushed up further. A quiet gasp escaped Caleb as he gently parted your folds, an exploratory finger trailing down your slit. 

“So wet… just for me,” Caleb muttered, he sighed and gently prodded his fingers into your pussy, they were so much bigger than yours it made you whine and whimper loudly. 

“Oh I know pip-squeak, I'm bigger than your little hands, right? You've always been so tiny inside, do you think I'll still fit?” Caleb asked. 

He pushed a finger in deeper, now knuckle deep. You squirmed, hips bucking away but Caleb held you firmly. 

“Mm Caleb… mmph~ m-more please!” you whined. 

Caleb curled his finger inside you, slowly pushing in and out, it was a terribly slow pace, making you shiver and whimper. He was taking his sweet time, it was torturous. 

“Just take it like this princess, nice and slow and gentle just how you like it. Feels good doesn't it? Think I can add one more?" Caleb purred. 

He dragged his finger out, and you felt the second one press against you slowly push inside, it made you shiver and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He kept the same torturous pace.

“F-faster please… mmph Caleb please!” you whined. 

He shushed you, instead of moving faster he stilled all his movements and removed his fingers entirely. He leaned down, brushing hair out of your face. You looked up to see his soft eyes peering down at you. 

“Is that right little sis? You want more don't you?” Caleb asked. 

You nodded your head. 

He hummed quietly, before scooping his arms under you and lifting you up. A small gasp left you as you settled back on his lap. His chest pressed firmly against your back as he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. A sigh left you as he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, his hands began rubbing circles over your stomach. 

“It's been too long since I got to hold you pip-squeak,” Caleb mumbled quietly. His voice was now breathy. He pressed another kiss to your neck, his tongue flicking out to lick a gentle stripe. The kiss sent a shudder down your back as his hands dug into your plush stomach. 

“I won't stay away long again,” you mumbled softly. 

He nodded, kissing your shoulder and biting gently. A soft groan left you as his bite became a little harder, something of a grumble came from Caleb. He suddenly bit down hard on your neck, the pain made you whine and squirm in his arms. When he pulled away he chuckled. 

“You promise you won't? You'll start staying here with me right?” he asked. 

“Y-yes Caleb, I will,” you replied. 

He nodded slowly. After a moment of comfortable silence, his hands began to trail back to your legs. 

“Well, I guess I do need to take care of you tonight, right? Make sure you come back for more?” Caleb asked. 

You squirmed a little bit, a small smile gracing your features and you nodded. 

“Oh no, say it properly, use your words pip-squeak,” Caleb said.

His hands trailed between your thighs and gently pinched the tender skin. 

“Mm, you're so mean, Caleb, always teasing me,” you mumbled quietly. A pit of embarrassment formed in your stomach. He always made you beg and ask nicely for him to help you like this. 

“Mean? Me? Nooo… listen, all you gotta say is this: ‘Please big brother, stuff my tight little pussy and use me how you want tonight. I promise I'll stay here with you and won't even look at other people, all I need is my big brother. Please Caleb, please.’ maybe a little extra whiney for me okay?” Caleb said. 

Your cheeks flushed bright red. “Pl-please cal-”

“Nooo, that's not what I said, baby.” Caleb teased. He pinched your thigh again, which made you whimper quietly. 

“Please big brother…” you couldn't get yourself to finish the sentence, it was so filthy the way he got off on this. He knew it embarrassed you to say out loud. 

“Come on, be a good girl for me okay?” Caleb asked. 

“And… and stuff my tight pussy and use me how you want tonight.” you quickly finished, and one of your hands flew to cover your face from the embarrassment. It was stopped mid-air by Caleb's evol, and you glanced up to see him smiling widely. 

“And what else pip-squeak?” 

“I promise I'll stay here with you and I won't even look at-at other people.” you mumbled. 

“Say the next part is nice and loud for me okay?” Caleb requested. 

You cleared your throat to speak more clearly. 

“All I need is my big brother. Please Caleb, please..” you said. 

He practically purred at the statement, burying his face in your neck and kissing over the tender skin. He hit every sensitive spot, making you breathe in deeper and close your eyes. The embarrassment from the moments before slowly faded as heat began to pool between your legs again. 

“That's a good girl for me. Always so good. I'll take care of you pip-squeak, i'll make sure you can't even walk tomorrow.”

[autumnhortsnort]

Hello coauthor! A Residuum reader here. One thing I really like about your comic is how the consequences of the characters' actions feel so plausible, but what stands out to me the most is the pacing in how they're presented throughout the story. Do you have any tips for structuring a plot? Every time I try to outline mine, it feels a bit incoherent, and the scenes don’t seem to flow well together. I’d appreciate any advice 🐢

best advice? Write the whole outline down as much and as far as you can, doesn't matter if it makes sense, that's for editing you to figure out. Then edit the ever-loving daylights out of it, add in connecting actions, and take out things that don't work. Residuum has had Five different drafts, with major tweaking as we go. The outline is not set in stone.

Also don’t share it outside of friends, that can make you feel pressured to stick to (the previous plot) even when it doesn’t work for how your story has progressed. There’s a reason we didn’t share any of the potential endings when we were still trying to figure out where the story was going. When the first arc was being posted we had an idea of the plot til about halfway through arc 4, but we didn’t actually have a concrete ending.

how we structure a plot (and do pacing)

Write out your main plot points and then write what the characters need to do to make that event happen. We basically do the plot mountain structure, but for each arc (there are 4 of them) we tend to make the climax of each arc into turning points or decisions that the main characters have to make that they cannot undo. here's a good article to read about structuring plots. (Note! This is for the broad spanning major plot beats, each update actually gets written as needed, they aren't written into the outline.)

When it comes to character decisions it’s more about, “what would make the character do this?” rather than, “would the character do this?” You can make characters do things they normally wouldn’t if you give them the right incentive.

For the pacing with residuum, because it’s serialized, we try to have something progress with each update. Either you learn something new, the plot has progressed (aka the status quo has changed), or there's set up/foreshadowing for later, most updates actually have all three. When writing in a serialized format (each chapter getting its own release) it’s a good idea to treat each update as a complete chunk. Try asking yourself: what is the goal for this part? are you using this update for anything actually important? are you conveying anything new and/or important to the plot? Is this something you want to focus on? Are you writing this to meet audience expectations or because you want to? There are parts where residuum gets almost no interaction but, importantly, those parts still meet our individual update rules. If you're writing for audience engagement you are going to get discouraged from writing long spanning plots very quickly. The audience doesn’t know whats coming, so they won’t interact with anything that doesn’t have their current blorbo™, even if it’s plot important.

for how we make the consequences make sense

Make things make logical sense? honestly i don't what to tell you.

We read. a. lot. I used to read 400 books over a school year, beaze has read about 13.6K fanfics on Ao3 over the course of 4 years. plus a ton of manhwa and manga, and that doesn’t include nonfiction, stuff from sites outside of Ao3, course assigned books, reddit fiction, royal road. Most of how we understand and structure plots is instinctual because we fire hosed our brains with them for years.

I'd recommend watching watching Overly Sarcastic Production’s Trope Talks, and reading stuff that's not rise related, as well as researching nonfiction stuff that's relevant to what you want to write we are at a place where we aren’t writing the outline anymore, just editing it if needed. We use the outline structure to make each update because it gives us a objective for the update, and gives us a road map for when to place the set up for future updates. But if you struggle to use outlines you can just… not use them. Garden writing is a valid writing strategy, I use it for one shot AU’s of residuum.

For long spanning stories written garden style the first draft can be your outline. Just edit and flesh it out once you’ve written it.

[luvvyouforever]

headcanons : matt murdock x mutant/superpowered!reader

content: fluff, some plot, smut at the very end.

a/n: i didn't mean to write this much, oops! i tried not to be very specific when describing powers, but it's a little hard not to! you can imagine anything you want to though!!! enjoy <3

ꫂৎ the first time he meets you is entirely accidental. there's fighting, he hears it on patrol, and runs to it. just a few feet before turning the corner, he pauses because he smells, he feels something different in the air. it's not the usual smell of blood and concrete and sweat. it's electric, or perhaps sweet, or something else entirely that doesn't usually come from fighting.

ꫂৎ he comes closer and notices that one person is fighting off three people and winning. in his fiery, blurred vision, he can make out an unnatural force pushing people back that's coming out of someone's hands. a hero, a mutant, a vigilante like him.

ꫂৎ without thinking, he runs forward and takes down someone who was attempting to grab you from behind. shocked, you turn and almost knock him back with whatever your power is. when you see that he helped you, you whisper a thanks.

"you have powers," he says matter-of-factly.

you nod then flex your hands which shake from the after-effects of your power flowing through you. "thanks for uh...," you gesture to the unconscious body behind you.

"don't worry about it."

before you can edge in another word, he runs off, leaving you to stand awestruck in an alleyway.

ꫂৎ the next time you meet him, he's out of daredevil form and in his charming, red glasses, lawyer form. it's something so simple like a coffee shop meet-cute or bumping into each other on the street, but he recognizes you immediately. you, of course, have no idea who he is.

ꫂৎ it feels surreal to him to see you so normal when he knows that your veins flow with some kind of power that he's dying to learn more about. quite shamelessly, he flirts with you, invites you to get a drink with him, or get lunch together. he has to know more.

ꫂৎ you definitely start going on dates more often and he certainly makes it a point to "bump" into you quite regularly. as for his night time activities, he's always searching for that same feeling of electricity in the air that comes from you. however, he doesn't find it anymore and assumes that it was a one-time thing, that you don't frequently go out searching for trouble like him.

ꫂৎ if you're an x-man or avenger or a part of another some kind of group, i'd like to think that on one of these dates you're going on, you get a call requesting your immediate presence for a mission. you'd rather quickly stand up, knocking the table into his middle, apologize, and ask for another date later. of course, he heard the call and he'd be searching for you later, knowing you were off doing some dangerous task. he worried, but when you eventually went on another date, he could tell you were bruised and that one of your ribs seemed to be just a little out of place.

ꫂৎ matt eventually asks you to be his partner not necessarily because he wants to know more about your powers, but because he genuinely likes you a lot now. he's such a gentleman to you, drops flowers off at your apartment before he goes into the office, and offers to pay for your dinners when he's busy with "work" at night.

ꫂৎ i think you would figure out he's the daredevil before he knows the extent of your powers. i imagine that one night you stay the night in his apartment while he says he's stuck at work with foggy and karen, but then he comes stumbling in, half-conscious and in dire need of medical assistance.

matt's satin sheets envelop you in his bed as you wait late into the night for him to come home. he promised you that it was okay for you to spend the night and wait around for him rather than asking you to walk back late at night.

suddenly, you hear the door open, a coat rack fall, and a cup fall to the ground, shattering loudly. with panicked movements, you jump out of bed and enter the living room. matt fell to the couch, groaning and clutching his side. he was dressed in a dark black outfit with a bandana wrapped around his eyes and despite him looking attractive, you can't ignore his bleeding wounds and obvious agony.

"what the fuck, matt?" you whisper-yell. he tears off the bandana and his eyes meet yours with shock. he tries to turn away and deny your help, but the movement causes far too much pain in his side.

"first-aid kit," he manages to get out. "bathroom."

hurriedly, you grab the kit and come back. he's trying to peel his shirt away from his chest but he can't. his hands grope around for the scissors in the kit and when he finds them, he places them in your shaking palm.

"i'll walk you through it."

ꫂৎ after he's safe and patched up, you interrogate him about everything. his senses, his vigilante behaviors, his past, his inner-workings. he openly tells you anything you want to know. after a few beats of silence between you in which you help him into bed, he asks you a question about your powers.

ꫂৎ you hadn't even known that he was the one to save you that night and you had an even fainter idea that he knew about your powers. you asked the questions he had as well and offered to show him what all you could do. he sat up on the bed, looking vaguely in your direction, as you showed off the abilities you had that coarsed through your body. he was in awe and the familiar smell from so long ago invaded his nose again. after that, nothing was kept hidden from either of you.

ꫂৎ you're totally a crime-fighting badass duo. he's all strength and physicality and senses while you are mystical and powerful, though not as stealthy. you spar together regularly so matt can gain experience fighting against powers and you can improve your physical fighting skills.

ꫂৎ matt never doubts your abilities or strength. if anything, he's your biggest fan. he knows you can take on big bads and robbers alike, but he's too much of a gentleman to let you fight people on your own. he will, however, step in and take someone down if they're being disrespectful to you in any way.

ꫂৎ if you are a part of some hero group, he would be secretly so nervous to meet them for the first time. on the outside, he's his usual witty and charming self, but inside he's worried that they won't like him or accept it which will create complications in your relationship.

below are some more niche/specific headcanons for different powers that reader might have:

ꫂৎ super strength: is always a little shocked when you pick up something extremely heavy. once, you two were out roaming the city as heros/vigilantes and when you two needed a quick exit, there happened to be a large dumpster blocking the way. he quickly tried to pivot but stopped once he could tell the dumpster was now 40 feet down the alleyway.

ꫂৎ elemental: oh my goodness, loves when you show it off outside of an actual need to use it. like, for example, taking a warm bath together and shaping the water into little creatures or creating beautiful flower beds or just playing with it while laying in bed late at night.

ꫂৎ magic wielding: has the most questions about this one. wants to know the full extent of your powers and if you don't even know, he finds it that much cooler. if you imagine having powers that are easily corruptible, matt will always be there to bring you back to earth and remind you of the good things in life.

bonus! small nsfw headcanons mdni

ꫂৎ. is most certainly not above using each other's abilities on the other. he's constantly listening to your heart rate to tease you, to bring you just close enough to the edge, and then pull away. he can tell when you're feeling the best and just knows what you need that night based on his senses. it's a little unfair to say you can't use your ability on him.

ꫂৎ if anything, he likes it! a lot. he's the more dominant person in the bedroom, but he enjoys a fight for it and certainly doesn't mind needing to manage a stronger person when he's in the mood for it. push him down onto the bed and don't let him get up. use some magical manipulation to tie him down. speed around him while he's trying to pin you down. he lives for it.

ꫂৎ. if you have some kind of suit, he likes running his hands along the material, feeling your body underneath, and expertly imagining the shape in his head. he especially enjoys suits if they're the tight spandex that's been molded to your body. if you're not hurt, when you come back that night, the suit will be on the floor, or perhaps left on.

[lapseinart]

I do have like a rather cracky idea for a Wicked/Bridgerton crossover that I will never write but need to excise from my mind so this is messy as hell. Exists solely because I've watched the clips of Dancing Through Life like twenty times.

SO Anthony (and maybe also Simon?) was isekai'd into Oz during his uni days, where he took on the name Fiyero after he was found/adopted by the royal family of Winkie Country. Wicked proceeds as usual, except at the end, Fiyero tells Elphaba hey I'm not from here, she's like oh! I think if you go back, I can turn you human again in the process and he's like bet. Or they both go to the human world where Elphaba manages to change him back because magic is different there and then she goes back at some point.

This is all just backstory for when the Bridgertons (I'm thinking Kate, Benedict, and Eloise at least, maybe Daphne and Simon) get isekai'd into Oz. And only because I want them confronted with people that know a version of their brother that they barely know, the carefree, scadalocious dancer. Also Gelphie is a thing, and they keep trying to poach Kate. I really am obsessed with this plot point. I don't really care as much for the background/context. My main point in all this is that Fiyero's exes got together and they're coming for Anthony's wife.

Benedict's angsting about the fact that Anthony hates the fact that his exes are homosexuals and keeps trying to be supportive of them flirting and stuff and Anthony keeps trying to shut it down until they have outs until Anthony just goes "For God's sake Benedict, I don't give a damn if you want to fuck a man or if they fuck each other, we've all been there, they just can't fuck my wife!" And this is how Benedict finds out that Anthony and Simon almost definitely boned while at Oxford.

Eloise is obviously fascinated by everything. The skirts are shorter here! And so flouncy! And some men wear skirts! And the most powerful people in the land are two witches! Women! Amazing! Why is Anthony Like That when he knows women are fully capable? And he's like first of all society here and at home are very different. I can wear a skirt here. "You've worn a skirt?" "Of course I have I just didn't like it." Second of all, mother is not here, mother is there. Third of all Eloise if you had an actual concrete plan, I would of course support you. That's what the dowry is for. But you have no plan that doesn't mean negatively impacting your sisters that do actually want to get married! And like for Anthony after knowing and loving these headstrong independent women in Oz, how can he even half-heartedly love any demure debutantes? When he knows they could be more if they allowed themselves to be more? It feels like a waste to him.

There's also an awkward moment where Anthony has to explain to Kate, yes I courted Glinda and we were going to get married but then I ran off with Elphaba. However, they were always in love with each other so it all worked out. And it's like I don't understand was Elphaba your mistress? did you court her too? And Glinda interrupts if anything Fiyero was Elphie's mistress, i think, and I tried to entrap Fiyero in marriage. Kate's like ah, I see. Kate does think that it's kind of wild that Anthony is almost kind of sort of Edwina in this relationship?? But they all get along rather fabulously. Gelphie's always trying to include her into stuff and Kate's flattered and lowkey kind of interested by the attention. Sue her, she didn't know women could do marital acts with other women!

Glinda and Elphaba for their part are absolutely fascinated by this uptight, responsible version of Fiyero. He talks about responsibility "What about your responsibility to corrupt your fellow students?" "We were all so well-behaved before you came along." "That's a lie, stop lying, the pair of you were always menaces." "Yes, that's fair, but we were well-contained menaces before you came along." "I only started cutting class after you joined." "And none of us stepped on or kicked books" "You kicked a book??" "This was ages ago!" "He got away with it because he seduced the librarian" "I did not seduce the librarian! I merely... charmed her."

This all culminates to a rendition of Dancing Through Life which is very shocking for all Bridgerton people because it's a lot more sensual and energetic than anything they've seen before with the like gyrating and stuff. And Anthony/Fiyero drags Kate into dancing with him, and she's into it, this version of Anthony that's so loose and carefree and infectious in his confidence. And it's like damn I'd hate balls too if I knew dancing like this was an option because Kate can solidly say she's having fun in a way she's never had before, as Elphaba spins her around and Glinda shows her how to stomp her feet and Anthony does a freaking cartwheel instead of walking up to her normally for no reason other than because it makes her laugh.

And for the Bridgertons it's like. this is who Anthony could be. If he was, like, a second or third son and not the Viscount. If he wasn't constrained by society. He'd be charming and rakish and energetic and laughing and an absolute menace to everyone and also society.

I do also think that Benedict at some point is like I did wonder at some point if Anthony had a type, but of his two girlfriends here one of them is green and the other's blonde so I guess he was serious when he said personality mattered more to him than any particular physical features.

Anyway Kate's having the time of her life, Anthony is getting some stress free days and the other Bridgertons are getting their worldview shaken. That is all thank you.

[septnautical]

Septnautical update and possible REVAMP??

Hi Guppies!

Long time so see huh?

Guess what! I’m actually working on Septnautical before Mermay for once! I’m sorry for the sudden hiatus during last year’s Below Zero event. Honestly, I had a major personal issue that lasted months- it was crazy. And since it happened right during that time I lost all the motivation I had to continue the project... even though I loved the ideas and new hybrids I made!

And honestly- revisiting Septnautical… I’m really proud of all the past work we’ve done. But since I’m rewriting the first creation story… I really feel like it might be time for a revamp? Revisiting the start of the story and expanding on stuff, exploring the boys more when they’re little and actually letting myself be a little more fucked up with certain topics. I feel like I really need to lean into how young the boys were mentally during some major events. But also like work on their dynamics with each other- I dropped you all into Jack’s capture without you all knowing the hybrids at all!

Don’t worry- whatever I decide the old stories aren’t going away! I’m just gonna rework older stories, write new stuff in between and hopefully make the beginning a lot more coherent! I think after the spilt the story is pretty solid- but there’s def a lot of stuff I wanna expand on! Like Marvin’s capture, the spilt and how it affected the boys more? Lots of different stuff!

But you all let me know what you want to see!

I know- I disappear for a long time then pop up with all these changes…. It means so much to me to still have people around for my silly little Merboys. I want to work on them and Swap more consistently and I think I’m finally coming out of that rut I was in. I have a new job that gives me time to write and a new spring in my step! So, I think a revamp might make me love my story again, you know? Ive always loved it but throughout the years, I definitely see how I started this story from passion but didn’t do a lot of research or concrete world building or really anything to really nail down a plot you know? Which makes sense, back then this was just a silly project I never knew so many people would love! I want to see people passionate about the story again like I used to be- and I think starting over might help? (All the older stories would be kept- I would just make a new masterpost of the revamp btws!)

Love you all,

Huffle 🩵💚

[vashvenus]

★ミ serpentine.

synopsis: naga knives has a sort of morbid fascination with you than manifests in a strangely sexual manner.

contains: naga/serpent knives, knives’ taxidermy hobby is mentioned, sort of medical? but he’s just exploring and weird, dubcon i think?, he has two weewees, and afab reader. 3.5k words.

note: teehee!! this is a (late) christmas present for my BEST FRIEND!! my cool, adorable, and wonderful bff @knivesbunny <33 hehehe enjoy bee + everyone else!!

it was about time you moved on in the world. getting a fresh start in the form of a cozy cabin at the edge of the woods sung your name and the price point was staggeringly low so, after confirming there were no safety hazards, you took the place. with dark wood and muted tones alongside a beautifully kept garden by the previous owners, how could you possibly go wrong? well, ‘wrong’ is an arbitrary term and ultimately up to the individual for judgement.

your moving process went without a hitch. furniture and belongings all being placed properly following a good deep clean plus a couple coats of paint, things any place would need upon a new owner arriving. you'd been rather happy at the final product, something dreary at first taking the form of your own home; a fond word. trinkets, cupboards of dishes, and an amalgamation of photos and artworks lining the walls to create an atmosphere you almost wished you could share but, alas, a solitary life was your preference.

the garden out back was complete with a greenhouse tucked to the side, surrounded by an abundance of flora and fauna that also colourfully dotted the rest of the greenery. small plots had been sectioned out for different fruits and herbs and the idea of being able to grow a large quantity of your own food was an exciting new feeling, one that you couldn't wait to grasp. thusly, it wasn't long until you found yourself kneeling in the grass and working new seeds into the dirt. a variety of the basics alongside some of your favourites was the route of action, one also deemed reasonable. between fondly nestling new seeds and sipping at cool beverages, the thought of the greenhouse slowly slipped your mind despite how vital it was to your task. swiping the gathered sweat from your forehead, you rose up to analyze your progress to which brought your eyes back to that small addition cozied up to the side of the property. the bags of dirt and tools resting on the ground would need a place to go after all... so, you wandered over to that little building and fiddled with the door.

the wooden door was slightly overgrown and gave you a good fight to open, weeds and rust seemingly actively working to keep you out of the space. stepping back, you looked it over a bit more, not wanting any splinters, before pressing your shoulder into it for added force. with a combined 'bang' and 'groan,' the door scraped across the inner concrete floor before coming to a stop about three quarters open. you huffed and slipped in, cursing the rotten chunk of wood and attempting to get a good look at what you were working with. eyes glazing over various rickety shelves, a sharp and icy chill rolled down your spine. a small nagging voice in the back of your head whispered ‘something isn’t right,’ in response to the unusual, for lack of better words, appearance of the inside.

atop aforementioned delicate shelves lay different jars full of an indistinguishable liquid and what appeared to be organs, small ones so hopefully not human, as well as a range of entire animals fully submerged in their own watery tombs. wind chimes made of bones twinkled from the ceiling above firmly locked chests and you weren’t totally sure you were interested in the contents. the previous owners, an old couple, didn’t seem like the type to hoard such morbid trinkets but sometimes it’s the most innocent ones, you figure. still, the lingering idea of this being the work of some beast that had chased them away from their lovely home rattled at the back of your mind ominously. shifting on shaky knees and feet, you contemplated poking around a bit but rationality told you to at least find a sturdy pair of gloves first. though, as it would seem, the choice wasn’t yours to make judging by that same yet more aggressive scraping and slamming door.

whipping around, you came face to face with… a man? one with frosty eyes, near white hair, and a scowl that could skin you alive. more importantly, he was hanging from the ceiling of the small shed you were now trapped in; stuck. with him. this… not quite man, if your judgment of his long serpentine looking lower half meant anything. all wide eyes and dry mouth, you gaped helplessly at him, attempting to find some sort of explanation for what exactly you’re doing, as if this isn’t your property he’s on. his eyes turned to slits seeing you fumble for words and, with an amount of grace that shouldn’t be possible, he slithered off the ceiling to instead… stand? lay? rest? you’re not too sure but he’s in front of you now right side up. pupils merely scratches inside his powdery blue eyes, you fear he’s deciding if you’ll make a good meal and you’ve half the mind to assure him you’re not as tasty as he may think. alas, he speaks before you get the chance.

“name,” it’s a simple but firm commanding question you weren’t quite expecting but, to be real, what were you expecting from an interaction with a snake man? you stutter out a whimper of a reply and he clicks his tongue; it’s forked, you note. with all confidence you can muster, not much, you promptly for his own. he hums low. “millions knives. shorten it to knives at most. don’t dare to give me any sort of nickname, as you humans often do; it’s abhorrent,” and you’re shocked he’s so eloquently spoken. perhaps there’s snake people schools you aren’t aware of?

“right. noted, millions knives,” you hesitate, not keen on irritating him further, as clearly just your presence has perturbed him, “i… apologize if i’ve intruded but… this is my property after all. some sort of explanation on your,” you gesture widely at the space, “hobby would be appreciated.” your poor attempt at mimicking his speech pattern has him letting out a chuckle that sounds more like an array of chitters. palms sweaty and desperately avoiding eye contact, you gulp hoping he’ll entertain your question before potentially swallowing you whole; snakes can do that. his tail flicks your shin jolting you to bring your eyes back to his, admittedly handsome, face.

“my… hobby, hm? it’s nothing to you,” a disappointing response, “were you hoping i’d have a jar your size, little human?” you’re positive he’s making fun of your fear yet somehow his words feel flirtatious in a way that has your brain swinging like a pendulum between crying out of petrification and placing a hand on his built chest. “i’ve been watching you for some time now. you’re utterly,” his tail wiggles up to grip your waist, “fascinating. a perfect experiment.” if he didn’t sound like he was flirting before, he sure does now.

his words were true to an extent beyond your knowledge. ever since the first tour you took of the place, he had kept an eye on your every move. knives hadn’t found an ounce of appeal in new people moving into the small home but, if he had it his way, it would turn abandoned for him to find sanctuary in. alas, the housing market wasn’t on his side as people inspected the place top to bottom and he was stuck merely seething beyond view; that was until you came along. all bright smiles and eager nods, he was beyond irritated with the way he found you undeniably irresistible. something so... keen would make a lovely study after all, he thought, though destroying you utterly and completely was off the table for he'd never be able to poke and prod at you after that. unfortunately, in the time it took for him to mull over a game plan, your first visit was over and he slithered back into the thick woods while scowling; unfair. the jump knives felt in his heart upon your second visit was one that caught even him off-guard, an emotion towards humans beyond that of revolt? unheard of and vile. yet, he was the one who had it and couldn't simply deny that he was feeling something beyond curiosity. your scent, perhaps? he muses over a handful of biologically reasonable conclusions for his reaction to a distantly nodding vash whos already figured out the truth. he saves it though, as to not have his other arm lobbed off, and instead hums along agreeing to every point with faint amusement.

it's with thoughts racing past at speeds no human could match, that knives brings himself back to the present, large palms and boney fingers coming to trail your jaw. another flick of his tongue appears between the grin now forming along his pink lips and impossibly long teeth; even a playful nip would draw extensive blood. he makes a sound between a hiss and growl as one sharp nail trails along your neck down to your sternum slowly, as if assessing a piece of meat; perhaps, in a way, he was. silvery tail wrapping around your left ankle, he tugs your leg up with his head dipping to peer curiously at the limb. you can't really blame him considering legs are the only human trait he lacks but the unsettling nature still makes you shiver. knives takes turns with each of your legs and arms, taking them in at all angles and seemingly pleased with what he was seeing. sure, he wasn't fond of humans at all but, he can appreciate when one is well made; easy on the eyes. a slightly morbid fascination, maybe. finally letting you go from his clawed grasp, he nods, satisfied.

"alluring. remove these pesky clothes," he scrunches up his nose while pinching the fabric of your shirt, "and seat yourself atop that cabinet." his gaze never once easing up, you're between bolting or following his instructions. the former would rely on you being stronger and faster than the behemoth of a man-snake standing directly in front of the door and you're positive you'd be dead two steps in. with trembling fingers, you pull the dirt dusted shirt from your body and shiver at cool air ghosting across your bare chest, only held back by the simple bra clinging to your breasts. you swallow thickly before shimmying off your denim shorts past your thighs and awkwardly down your feet. having not removed your socks or shoes, it was quite the task, but potential tetanus from the rickety floors wasn’t on the menu today. knives found amusement in your struggle, if the chittering in front of you meant anything though, in truth, he was rather charmed. such clumsy behaviour almost reminded him of a newborn bunny. face flushed, you finally unclasp your bra and slip off your panties with no more grace than your shorts had been discarded with, before perching yourself on the cabinet knives had dully gestured to.

“is this… is this good?” the words slide past your lips before you let them, sounding too pleading for your liking but knives seemed to enjoy that despite a hum being all he offered in return. his strong chest was quickly in front of your eyes, curse his fast snake body, while his hands found purchase on your legs again. with one palm on each of your knees, he gently eased them open, nearly purring at the sight.

“you’re something of a gem, hm?” his voice was low, hands inching up your thighs with sharp nails leaving a trail of goosebumps. “how very kind of you to welcome me with such a,” the forked tongue of his makes a third appearance, “wonderfully prepared gift? such a lovely homeowner…” though sarcastically sweet in tone, his words did nothing but shoot directly between your legs. “i’ve got a keen nose, little rabbit, are you enjoying being my area of study?” his gaze was hard as he looked at you down his nose and from between long lashes. “your most intimate nodes are crying out ‘yes’.” he presses against your folds to spread them with feather light fingertips, much like one would a dissection. spreading you softly, his head tilts to one side while his eyes seem to slowly drag up and down the weeping slit of yours he's not fully exposed. knives wedges himself fully between both of your legs as to not allow you to close them and his other hand joins in on the fun, prodding softly at your entrance. he seems to revel in the small whimpers you make, crystalline tears clinging to your lashes from a mixture of desperation and humiliation at letting him do such to you so easily.

employing a sort of gentleness and patience you didn't think he had, knives slowly eases in one of his fingers down to the second knuckle before pulling it out with a wet 'schlick' to wrap his mouth around it. the taste seemed to please him based on his own moan and he returned to his previous ministrations, softly thrusting the finger in and out of you. with the hand that had been used to spread you, he smoothly switched to rolling gentle circles over your clit, eyes still fixed firmly on watching the way your body reacts. a second finger accompanies the first in its delicate rock, encouraging more of the sweet sticky essence of you to drool out and across his hands. panting and whining, you buck pathetically into his hands with closed eyes and red bitten lips; you miss the way he slides to his knees. for a man so large he is more than quiet, something you can't match with the harsh suckling on your clit coaxing loud cries from you. his mouth curls the slightest bit with a smug smile and you can feel it past the swirling of his tongue and sharp incisors teasing your skin. briefly, you hope he won't bite. the soft plunging motions of his fingers turns harsh alongside the movements of his mouth. he seems eager to have you unravel on his face and, despite your own tattered pride, you can't stave off the shuddering of the orgasm that washes over in the most intense waves you've ever felt. embarrassingly loud slurps echo around the small shed as knives continues his own motions with glee. it's only when you gently push at his forehead that he shifts backwards and up, allowing you some reprieve from what he had just done. you're breathless, to say the least, having been made to come so shamefully on the handsome mouth and hands of this stranger but somehow you don't feel as though you were the only one who had fun despite his firm acclaims of experimentation.

you're struggling to regain your breath while knives looks you over with thinly veiled lust, you figure teasing him for it wouldn't go well so you restrain despite the thick atmosphere begging for some reprieve. while still gasping for air and shaking the post-orgasm fog from your head, he's pushing you down with his body weight and adjusting the way you lay across the cabinet to his personal preference; legs bent around his waist and hand beside your head. with hazy eyes, you look down to catch the way not one but two thick cocks slide out from the slit they had previously been held in. hanging heavy but curved up slightly, thick arousal is pooling at the tips and you think you can see ridges along the base of each. your jaw is slack as knives lets out another one of those chittery laughs.

"scared, bunny? no need, i'll make it work," his smarmy expression is nearly enough to have you shooting something snide back but he's lining up the tip of the lower cock and sinking himself in faster than you can think. "let go of any premonitions, this will be mutually beneficial."

if you could have any thoughts, they'd be nothing more than slurred curses but with the thickness and impossible length occupying and stretching your insides, you're rendered incapable. he's slow enough to give you some time to adjust but still fast enough that your body can't quite keep up with what he's giving; a pleasurable form of purgatory. knives allows his hands to wander your body, one coming to grip and gather your wrists to now rest above your head while the other fondles your breasts harshly. he's grabbing you in a way that feels inexperienced and almost charming though the harsh penetration is tearing you away from the idea. knives trails his hand from your breasts, to your stomach, and back up to grip your throat as he finally bottoms out inside of your tight heat. the wetness and warmth covering him is seeping out and down his tail to leave a lewd trail of combined juices he briefly admires the shimmer of before he's sliding himself out and roughly back in with a resounding slap. a high and needy sound escapes your throat as the tip of his cock taps your cervix and the rest of it rubs across your walls, eagerly taunting all of what's to come. the hand around your throat compresses your blood flow just enough to have your head feeling like it's full of cotton and your body even more pliant for his use. nails tilt your chin to have you make eye contact with the man currently deep in your guts, a glittering and dangerous grin spread across his face. with your eyes on his, knives begins pounding into you with earnest.

all of the sounds that leave you are high-pitched and warbled with unshed tears borne of the hand around your neck and stretch of your cunt. he's letting out strangled grunts and eager clicks at the grip of your wet pussy trying to milk him dry. his second cock his sliding against your clit and lower stomach with every harsh thrust he gives you, rubbing and pulling pleasurably. all of your nerve endings feel ablaze with the way he's using your body in a way that's filled with determination. his head drops down to make contact with your shoulder, his mouth sliding up your neck to replace his hand and add plentiful marks along the untouched skin; he figures an array of bruises will decorate it better than any necklace. dark indigo and rouge dappling the skin as blood comes to the surface, he's enamoured with how it looks tainting your flesh. both of his hands are now around your hips to hold you still for every pump of his cocks along and into your body, forcing you to take it all in full. you're crying with your back arched and chest forced to the ceiling as he continues his fast pace with teeth grazing your nipples. knives is biting numerous times across your tits, imprints of his fangs left in the wake akin to a path on a trail; he's oddly proud of his work. you're beyond your own body, desperate for him to bring you to a second high of the day, hips trying in vain to undilate against his own but his grip is too firm; his unnaturally strong. tongue flicking at your nipples, one cock deep in your guts, and the other beating against your clit, it's not long before you're babbling useless pleas for him to not stop. through choked sobs and moans, you're falling to pieces with his cock nestled deep inside of you. your brain is blank as lights splatter across your vision, eyes rolled to the back of your head and drool leaking from the corners of your mouth. still, his heavy rutting hasn't ceased. every limb of yours is twitching as sobs move past your lips without permission and your hands slide from his grip to claw uselessly at his back from overstimulation until knives is letting out an otherworldly growl as he sinks to the hilt one final time. you can feel the thick ropes of his seed coat your insides as his body curls around you protectively; a mating instinct maybe. he's grumbling lowly as an impossible amount of his spend leaks in and out of you with each twitch of his shaft.

you're still feeling a touch foggy when he pulls out, globs of shared slick pooling beneath you. knives is assessing your form critically, hands and eyes sliding over every bruise and bite left behind from his own roughness. it's almost sweet, how he seems to care for your well being despite his words claiming otherwise, and you simply allow yourself to enjoy the way he's fussing over you. once satisfied, he nods to himself and moves to scoop you up in his arms despite your small whines of protest but your indignation doesn't last long as he slithers you both over to your home, mumbling something about a shared bath; for purely experimental purposes, of course.

[kaleldobrev]

Shiny New Toy (4)

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean punishes you through spanking. But is it really a punishment?

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (1x), Light Smut (Fingering - barely), Punishment (Spanking)

Authors Note: Originally was going to be only 4 parts, but decided to make it 5 parts instead | Apologizes for this part being a tad shorter than the others | More of a filler part, but still relevant and needed for "the plot." | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Shiny New Toy Masterlist

You were hesitant at first to get off the table, but you didn’t want Dean to have to ask you again; afraid of the consequences that could follow. “All fours?” You asked, as you started to make your way off the table, slightly covering your chest with your arms. There was no point in doing that, you knew that, but there was a part of you that still liked having some kind of decency despite the situation that was currently happening.

“I didn’t stutter, did I?” His voice sounded almost harsh, cold. You hated this voice, even before he became a demon.

“N-no.” You said, your voice coming off a lot more nervous than you had expected it to come off. You looked at the ground, not wanting to get on all fours. The concrete already felt cold on your bare feet, so you knew it would feel much worse on your hands and knees. Not only due to the coldness, but due to the hardness.

Taking a deep breath you did as you were told but still very hesitantly. “Such a great fucking view.” Dean mumbled, his hand smoothing over your ass. Feeling his hand on you, you felt your breath hitch, and he chuckled. “Aw baby, don’t be nervous.”

“Easy for you to say.” You mumbled.

“Such a sassy response from someone like you.” You could hear the smirk on his lips from his response. Someone like you? You thought. What does that even mean? A part of you had wanted to challenge that thought, but decided that it would be best not to do that. “You know what?” He began, his hand removing itself from your ass. A second later you heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, the sound of it piercing your ears in the worst way. “Lay across my lap. Ass up. Gonna spank you this way.”

You didn’t know what was worse or more humiliating: being on all fours and him spanking you, or being spanked while lying across his lap. With a heavy sigh, you got up from your spot on the floor and stood up, seeing him now having a seat on a chair that you didn’t even realize was in the room before. Dean patted his legs and you felt a small shudder overcome you. “Come come Sweetheart.” He said, his voice sounding a lot calmer than it had sounded previously. Again, with some hesitation you gently laid yourself across his lap, ass up like he had requested. The fabric of his jeans felt weird on your bare skin. “Know how long I’ve been dreaming of having you like this?” His hand moved to your ass, and you took a deep breath, bracing yourself.

“How long?” You weren’t even sure if you should even ask, if your question would even amount to anything. Before he answered you, he finally released a single smack; the smack making yourself let out a small yelp.

“For as long as I’ve known you.” Again, you could hear the smirk on his lips; with his answer, yet another smack.

As Dean was spanking you, you could feel the sting of every time his hand made contact. Despite the slight stinging sensation that was hitting your ass, you felt yourself starting to get turned on at the feeling; confused by it. The idea of spanking had scared you, it was something that you had never wanted to experience in your life.

At this point, you had lost count of how many blows Dean had hit you with, but with each smack, you knew that your ass was going to be beat red. “Sweetheart, we have ourselves a problem.” Dean said, the first time he had said anything since he had started to spank you.

“What’s…What’s that?” You asked, your voice nervous.

“This ain’t working uh?” He asked, already knowing the answer to his question.

“What do you…mean?” You knew exactly what he meant.

“You’re getting wet Sweetheart. This wasn’t supposed to be something you enjoy.” His voice sounded like a mixture of impressed and disappointed.

“I’m sorry.” You said, your voice low.

He chuckled at your response, his hand starting to rub your ass gently, almost as if he was trying to make you feel better at the amount of times he spanked you. The feeling of his hands on your ass would have been something that you might have enjoyed; if it wasn’t for the slight stinging feeling and soreness. “Knew you’d be a little freak in bed.” His tone not sounding even remotely upset which surprised you. “Think I spanked you enough? Or does my girl want more?”

You were unsure of how to answer that. On one hand, there was a part of you that was getting turned on by being spanked, actually enjoying the feeling despite the soreness and the stinging. It was something that you didn’t think you’d remotely enjoy. At the same time, you didn’t think your ass could take anymore. You weighed the pros and the cons to each answer you could reply with. No matter how you answered, it all came down to him still spanking you. “Y/N?” Dean asked.

You let out a small sigh, almost defeated sounding. “I don’t think it matters how I answer.” Your tone matching your sigh.

“How do you figure?” He asked, your statement clearly peaking his interest.

“If I say no, you’re still going to spank me. If I say yes, you’re still going to spank me. I can’t win.”

“My smart girl.” Was all he said, giving your ass another smack; but this time it was softer, like he was conscious of how your ass could possibly be feeling right now.

Your ass felt so sore and hot from the amount of times that he had spanked you; ultimately losing count. The spanking was something that you had enjoyed, but it was something that you had started to hate during the second set of spankings that he had given you. The first set was supposed to punish while the second set was supposed to almost reward you – but you didn’t know how it was supposed to be rewarding.

Dean had finally stopped, and at the moment you were currently lying down on the cold metal table, slight amount of relief from the cold metal felt nice against the red hot soreness of your ass. “Tired?” He asked, his question causing you to open your eyes, something that you didn’t even realized happened.

His hand was placed on your thigh, his thumb gently rubbing circles on to your skin. The feeling felt nice, almost too soft for his current demon personality. “Yes.” You didn’t know how much time had passed since the day had started, but a lot has happened during the course of it. You’ve been fingered, eaten out, lost your virginity, spanked. All things you didn’t think would happen all at once.

“I’ll tell you what Sweetheart,” you already didn’t like the sound of where his voice was going, his fingers inching closer to your clit. As much as you enjoyed him fingering you, you didn’t think you could take anymore – at least not today. “You did really good today.” Wow, a compliment. You thought, trying your best not to roll your eyes. “So, we’re going to take a break.”

“A break?” You asked, raising a brow.

“Yep.” He said, two fingers starting to rub circles very slowly on your sensitive clit.

“Dean…” You shut your eyes – you couldn’t deny the feeling of his fingers, how good they felt against you…inside of you.

“So cute.” He mumbled, both of his fingers slowly dipping inside of you. You waited for him to start moving his fingers, but they just sat there.

“Dean?” You questioned, opening up your eyes now.

“I said we’d be taking a break. Do you not want to?” His voice sounded smooth like silk, his fingers slowly started moving, a small smirk forming on his lips.

“Yes, a break…please…” Your voice trailed off.

“I don’t know Sweetheart, seems like you don’t want one.” He pointed out, his fingers going lazily slow inside of you.

“I do…Please…”

“You sure? Cause I know I’m still good to go.” His voice now sounding almost relaxed, matching the pace of his fingers.

“Yes…I’m sure.” You tried sounding confident.

He removed his fingers from you, keeping that smirk on his face. “Alright, I’ll give you ten.” Ten minutes was not going to be enough for you; you and him both knew that.

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