#does punctuation mess with the tags or something

[lust4nero]

Sugar ‘n Spice, Turn Off the Lights

Sub!RE6!Leon x Dom!F!Reader

word count - 1.4k

tags - MDNI, not proofread, porn with plot (kinda?), BDSM, cock cages, leg humping, collars, leashes, marking, begging, overstimulation, submissive re6 leon kennedy, whimpery and needy leon kennedy, masochism, cock tease, p in v, cunnilingus, premature ejaculation, multiple orgasms, light cock stepping, dom/sub

Leon is one of a select few of the highest ranked agents in the newly-established Division of Security Operations. Through his heroic feats and courageous exploits into BOW-infested locations, he’s rightfully earned the respect of peers and politicians alike. He’s the president’s formidable sword, an icon that rookies look up to but little do they know who and how he really is behind closed doors. It’s assumed that he’s in charge at home as it is at work but it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Leon is one of a select few of the highest ranked agents in the newly-established Division of Security Operations. Through his heroic feats and courageous exploits into BOW-infested locations, he’s rightfully earned the respect of peers and politicians alike. He’s the president’s formidable sword, an icon that rookies look up to but little do they know who and how he really is behind closed doors.

Everyone that knows him is also aware of you as his wife, a framed image of you kept in his work desk. He doesn’t hesitate to bring you up in conversations, either to shower you with praises and adoration or to use you as an excuse for missing out on after-work drinks in town. Leon wasn’t one to shy away from showing everyone that you’re his, always keeping a hand around your waist when you walk together outside or running his fingers up and down your spine when standing in line for something. It’s assumed that he’s in charge at home as it is at work but it couldn’t be farther from the truth as he’s currently naked on the floor of your dim bedroom, sensitive and desperate to cum; your foot is pressed firmly against his caged cock, the poor thing straining against its metal confines. His hands are behind his back, his fingernails digging into his palms to stop himself from grabbing on to your leg and humping his poor cock.

“Such a good boy for keeping this on for 2 weeks,” you coo as you dig your heel into his aching balls. You’re like a goddess as you lean down and sneer at him, cackling at the delicious torture you’ve put him in.

“T-Thank you, mistress…” He still has it in him to be polite, such a cute puppy.

You press down harder, knowing Leon loves it most when the line between pain and pleasure blurs. He whines and whimpers, shivering underneath your foot; his confined cock kicks beneath the sole of your foot, the reddened tip drooling more precum. Satisfied with the display of submission he’s been putting on for you so far, you take your foot off and set him free.

“You’re my good puppy, aren’t you Leon?” You ask whilst petting him, ruffling bedraggled blond strands even more.

“Y-Yes,” he breathily responds.

You move your hand to cup his face, a thumb stroking his pink cheeks. He nuzzles into the warmth of your touch, eyes closed as he soaks up the gentleness you’re showing to him as a sign that he trusts you with whatever you wish to do with him.

“Then hump my leg,” you command. “And don’t stop until you’ve cum two times.” You punctuate your words with a tug to his hair, eliciting a whorish moan from a mess of the man beneath you.

“Ma’am yes ma’am.”

Wasting no time, he clung to your leg and began madly thrusting. He expected to last a little longer but his sensitive cock barely lasted for more than 20 seconds, his milky essence painting your skin in a goop of white.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry,” he whines through the overstimulation. His hips stutter though that does not stop him from his frenzy.

“It’s okay baby, you were always a pathetic mutt anyway.”

This time, he manages to make it past a minute before shooting his second load. He leans against your leg, catching breath but you know he’s far from tapping out– his cock’s still hard.

“Can I please be inside you now, mistress? Please?” he asked so sweetly, looking up at you with glossy eyes and pouty lips. “I’ve– I’ve been good, haven’t I…?”

You already know the answer to his plea but you pretend to think for a moment, keeping him on his toes.

“Go crawl to your collar.”

If he was a mutt, his tail would’ve been wagging madly as he crawled on all fours to the black leather collar laid at his bedside table.

The accessory fit snugly around his neck, perfectly suiting your submissive husband. You settled in bed, slowly inching back to the headboard whilst tugging on the leash as Leon crawled up to you. Besides the lust-induced haze evident in his stormy blue eyes is adoration and unquestionable love; he’d die for you– kill even, if worse comes to worst. He’s loyal to a fault for his darling wife, that’s no question; if she commands him to jump, he’d ask how high. Sure, you terrify him sometimes especially when you’re pissed off, but that’s fuel to the fire you set in his loins– he’s got a penchant for intimidating women.

“You know what to do next, pup.” You command, emphasizing your words with another strong tug.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, parting your legs wider to make space for himself as he settles in between. Leon dives tongue-first into your sopping heat, lapping up your juices at a mad pace; his feverish tongue is a temperature contrast to the cold air of the room, making you all the more sensitive. His stubble adds a prickly sensation as he moves to press wet kisses at your clit before giving a particularly harsh suck.

“Fuck, Leon. J-Just like that,” you encourage him. “You feel so good…”

You push his head closer to yourself, muffling a needy whine from him. As he nipped and licked, his whimpers grew louder and much needier. He wanted to see you come undone, locking eyes with you as he humped his terribly hard cock against the mattress for stimulation while he sucked.

“Holy shit,” you breathed as you gripped his blond tresses harder and rocked his face against your pussy. “S-shit, baby– I’m going to cum–”

Your words only spurred him on, getting his face even more soaked and glistening with your essence. As you reached your high, he dug his nails into your thighs as he licked and drank every single drop you had to offer to him. Your husband twitched and whined, reaching a release of his own as his sensitive cock dribbled out pathetic spurts, it’s a miracle that he’s still able to cum.

“Let me fuck you mistress,” Leon begs as he kneels, trembling hands resting on his thighs. “Please, it hurts so bad… wanna cum again…”

He glances down at his cock twitching against his abdomen, a steady flow of pre flowing down the shaft. The sight is nothing short of sinful, promiscuous even; his hair is rumpled, face glossy with your cum with his pink lips curved into a pout as he caresses his hard cock, cupping his balls.

“You’ve been such a good pup for me,” you drawl. Still attached to your leash, he stumbles forward when you pull on it. “So I guess you can fuck me good, puppy.”

Crazed by the idea of finally being able to shoot his load deep inside you, he pulls you closer by your knee and lines himself up at your entrance with trembling hands.

“Make it fast or else I’ll change my mind,” you complain.

“Yes, master.”

He notches his spongy cockhead at the entrance, slowly pushing in until you locked your legs around him and made him go all the way in.

“Ngh–! Sweetheart, w-wait…” he whimpers as he needily clutches at your hips to calm himself down. He’s so sensitive, he’s sure that he isn’t going to hold on for much. “Might cum fast, don’t wanna…”

Leon’s words die at his throat, replaced by a high-pitched whimper, as he feels your walls tighten around him. Driven by uncontrolled lust and the need to cum deep inside you, he hovers above your body and starts plowing deep; each thrust is punctuated with a squelch and thud of the headboard against the wall, finally accompanied by your moans and his crazed whimpers.

“You’re so good to me, Leon– shit– this cock’s all mine,” you breathily whisper to him.

“Y-Yours,” he stutters. “All yours– ah!”

You press kisses to his Adam's apple that trails to the side of his neck until the sweet spot behind his ear, nipping at his ear lobe. Letting your possessive side out, you bite and mark up the pale skin of his neck with reds and purples before soothing the spots with your moist tongue.

“Baby, I can’t– I– shit–! I’m going to cum, gonna cum,” he rambles as tears stream down his cheeks. “Ngh–! Ah…–”

He’s only able to give 2 more thrusts before his hips stutter and twitch, pulling you closer to himself as warm ropes of his sticky release paint your walls. He holds you tight, keeping his cock inside you despite the overstimulation that borders on pain.

“Did you cum, sweetheart?” he asks while he catches his breath.

“No,” you hiss. Despite his embarrassment, blood fills his cock and he’s sporting another hard-on in no time.

NOTE - i'm not seeing a lot of submissive leon fics, especially older leon, in here or on ao3 so i decided to waste my time writing this to satiate the 5 thirsty people in need of seeing leon get slutted out. i was supposed to post this on my birthday like 3 days ago but i was too damn busy and tired so yeah -_- i'm not rlly having any ideas for fluff on the main blog so i'm going to breathe some life in here for now :3 also, i found this game called 'The Wolf Among Us' earlier and it's honestly so interesting!! like the story and the adult spin on fairytales is a cool concept and i'm hooked (started watching a playthrough from 11 years ago...). anyway, that's it and thank you for reading my fics!! this is also up on ao3 under the same title <3

[eyeritestuff]

Billy Kid x Reader Headcanons ☆

—X—

A/N: super into ZZZ right now (and billy.)

CW: nothing, maybe a few suggestive jokes but everything is generally SFW :3 i’m super sleepy and writing this at 1am so bare with me when it comes to spelling and grammar :’)

Reader: Gender Neutral [they/them]

—X—

Billy takes a lot of selfies, especially when on missions, and sends them to you. You don’t know what made him start doing this, but you save each and every one of them and you make sure to drop whatever you’re doing to ask him about it.

Billy is on the spectrum. Don’t ask me the logistics of it, yes he’s sophisticated AI, but hear me out! Though you like to indulge in some childhood nostalgia, you aren’t particularly fixated on watching just one media from your childhood. However, one of the medias you watched back in the day is called Starlight Knight. As soon as you told him you enjoyed that show, he would come to you to talk about it. It wasn’t all the time, of course, but whenever conservation went dry (in person or via DMs), he’d make it a thing to talk to you about it for hours. It didn’t annoy you, not in the slightest. It made you happy to see him so happy about the children’s show, and so you entertained it as much as you could.

When Billy texts, he uses old fashioned emoticons as punctuation. Think ‘ :3 , ^_^ , o_O ’ and then replace it everywhere a period, an exclamation point, or a question mark would be. So many emoticons…

Billy loves to play video games, especially at the arcade. He invites you, and usually you tag along. When you can’t, he sends a selfie of him making a sad face. He’d probably captions it something like ‘Missing my pookie.. 💔💔’

On that same note, Billy will pick up on vocabulary you use and steal it. So if you have a habit of saying ‘pookie’ ? That’s his now. He’s using it all the time.

Billy panics easy when it comes to you. not only when it comes to safety, but also when it comes to romantic scenarios. During times you hang out with Anby and Nicole, they spill all the details of how Billy went on a rampage to find the perfect flowers, or how Billy sat in a corner all morning whining about how he didn’t find the right color outfit for you. Things along those lines!

Sortve related, but Billy gets flustered easily. Especially when you make dirty jokes, most of which aren’t really directed at him. He doesn’t get the jokes at first, but when he does understand them, he reacts in such an over the top and dramatic manner. Flailing around, gasping really loud, whining, yknow the works! One time you made a joke about ‘whimpering audios’ and he didn’t understand it. For a while too! Once he asked enough people (Anby explained it to him), he went silent and locked himself in his room for a considerable amount of time. He wasn’t sad or anything, just… shocked.

Billy isn’t human, so he doesn’t necessarily get injured in the traditional sense. One time he came back from a commission with his arm all battered up. You never seen him so down in spirits! You were able to help him, luckily, because it was only one part on his arm that was damaged that really messed up the rest of it. You kissed his hand, and immediately after inspecting your handiwork, he stuck his hand out again. “I dunno.. my arm still feels wonky. How about another kiss for good measure?”

When you’re bored, you love to dress up as Billy. Well, you’re not really dressing like him, you’re just wearing his jacket. You also like to wear the jacket with certain outfits you think it would look best with. Since your boyfriend is so tall and broad in the arms, you mostly wore it as a shoulder drape in an odd anime fashion statement. Regardless, Billy loved to see you wear it.

Earlier I mentioned Billy loves to take selfies, but I forgot to mention how most of them include you, and despite having all of those selfies of himself, half of his camera roll is you. He likes to sneak pictures of you sometimes! It’s one of his more odder behaviors, but he takes such cinematic pictures of you, even when you’re wearing the worst outfits. You didn’t know how he did it, but it’s one of the things that made the random picture taking somewhat okay.

Billy loves hugs. Don’t ask me how it works in terms of comfort. I would assume it’s the equivalent of sleeping in a car. However, Billy does have plenty of plushies thanks to you, and you use those to your advantage… so it’s not all bad :)

You asked Billy to teach you how to sling guns, and the entire tutorial sesh was just him feeling every inch of your body, memorizing and admiring how you looked. He loved you. All of you! He thought he was being sneaky, but you knew (and secretly loved it too).

Billy loves to carry you on his back and walk around. All I’m saying is, he’s got handlebars on that jacket for a reason… this has to be one of them……

Billy loves stickers. Self Explanatory!

Billy loves giving you gifts. He puts your needs over his more than he should, but luckily you’re not in this relationship to take advantage of his immaturity and inexperience. You give back as much as you can.

Billy is clingy. Needed to type it out despite it being loud as hell in this list.

Billy cant cook. Not like he needs to anyways, but he wants to learn for you! So when you’re cooking, he watches close behind you and asks you every question he can think of.

Billy likes to ask why… a lot. It gets frustrating sometimes, but he genuinely wants to learn.

—X—

A/N: thx for reading! idk might make a part 2 i’m gonna go fall asleep now :3

[pap3rtigers]

(don't) bite the hand that feeds (masterpost and links)

— art by @vozart —

Summary: If anyone bothered to ask Ghost who he was, he figured he'd just stare at them for a moment, and say three simple words.

"A stray dog."

He didn't mean to bite. Didn't mean to bare his teeth or snap at every outstretched hand.

It wasn't in his nature—not really.

He didn't want to be like this.

He just didn't know how to be anything else.

— # —

"Jesus fucking Christ, MacTavish," Ghost snapped, his voice cutting through Soap like a bullet through bone, making mincemeat of his heart as it dropped clear to his feet. "Shut the fuck up."

— # —

In the wake of Hassan's death and stolen moments in Las Almas, Soap can't seem to quiet his mind—and Ghost won't let himself rest. Haunted by guilt and convinced he's the problem, Ghost starts doing what he does best: pushing people away before they can see the mess he really is.

If he's alone, maybe Soap will be safe.

But Johnny MacTavish has never been good at backing down. Pairing: Ghost x Soap Warnings/Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending (finally!), Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, Soap has Anger Issues, Ghost needs Therapy, "Shut Up, Soap", Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Past Child Abuse, Flashbacks, Panic Attacks

This fic can be found in its entirety on Archive Of Our Own!

🧼 Chapter 1 — Amber Reflections

Soap wasn't drunk. Not even buzzed, which was a real shame, because he could've used it. A little fuzz around the edges, something to slow his brain down and soften the raw, electric hum under his skin. Instead, he was just… awake. Exhausted, aching, but running on whatever amount of adrenaline hadn't burnt off yet. His mind felt like a room of flickering lights—some blown, some stuttering, all of them too damn bright. How can I be this tired and yet this awake at the same damn time?

💀 Chapter 2 — A Weapon, Not a Man

If anyone bothered to ask Ghost who he was, he figured he'd just stare at them for a moment, and say three simple words. "A stray dog." He didn't mean to bite. Didn't mean to bare his teeth or snap at every outstretched hand. It wasn't in his nature—not really. He didn't want to be like this, he just didn't know how to be anything else. Only how to survive.

🧼 Chapter 3 — Radio Silence

No bloody rest for the wicked. Not really, at least. Alright, so technically, they had time off. A whole bloody long weekend, even, where their little foursome could split off to wherever and pretend they weren’t held together by medical tape and sheer force of will. Soap went home to see his ma and sisters, guilt lancing his thoughts every time he remembered how little time he truly got to spend with them. Some time for everyone to lick their wounds after, a few weeks worth of regrouping and pulling together all the loose ends of their last mission. Soap didn't particularly envy the captain or Ghost's position. Hours per day spent weaving threads into something that would make sense, would let them move forward in ways he didn't need to be privy to yet. Granted, both Price and Ghost didn't seem to really care for the secrecy between COs and NCOs, he and Gaz knew far more than they should've—but he could only stand so much jargon before exploding.

💀 Chapter 4 — Stray Dogs

Life carried on. Missions assigned, targets eliminated, reports filed. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. The routine never changed. But it also didn't mean shit when every other fucking thing in Ghost's life felt wrong. The barracks used to hum with life. A low, steady current of easy camaraderie that managed to worm its way into his bones and filled the space between missions. The clang of trays in the mess, the murmur of conversation punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter. Except now, the air hung heavy, stagnant and thick. Pressed against his ribs as a weight he couldn't shift. Every meal, every meeting, every moment crushed against him with something unspoken. Nothing like the comfortable silence between men who understood each other without a word spoken. And he didn't kn— You're lying to yourself, Riley. You know exactly what it is.

🧼 Chapter 5 — Confrontation

Soap was not doing well. He could fake it. Had been, he'd narrowed that shit down to a bloody science. Slapped a grin on his face to act like everything was fine. Joked and played along when Gaz tried to prod at him, still rolled his eyes when Price gave him that look. But it wasn't real, just a cheap imitation of himself, stretched thin over something raw and gaping. A fresh wound torn open again, and again, and again. Every fucking thing felt off.

💀 Chapter 6 — No Walls Between Us

The moment Johnny's arms wrapped around him, Simon's entire world stopped. Not just the muffled sounds of the base beyond these walls, or the distant buzz of the lights, or the heavy boots of others in adjacent hallways. Something… more. Something deeper, something that took every single thing Simon Riley had ever known and tipped it upside down. And even though it only lasted a single heartbeat, fuck—it hurt.

🧼 Chapter 7 — Healing

Simon trembled in his arms, still overwrought with his own charged emotions, still struggling to breathe—and fuck, John didn't know how to fix this. But he could hold him. And he could stay. So he did. John rocked them gently, one hand smoothing up and down Simon's back in steady, soothing strokes. He kept his breathing even, controlled in the hopes that Simon could match it, could begin to ground himself and come back.

💀🧼 Chapter 8 — Epilogue

The coffee machine gurgled, low and steady, filling the air with its rich warmth. Simon leaned against the counter, forearms resting on the cool surface as he watched the dark liquid drip into the waiting mug. Never gonna understand how he drinks this shite. Coffee. Truly just… mingin’, if he was being honest. And yet it was another thing in the multitude of everything that made up the man he loved more than anything in this world. It became their evening routine on base—decaf for Johnny, Earl Grey for himself. A habit formed in the quiet, shared moments that he never once dared to dream he'd have. A small, simple… easy thing.

💀 Chapter 9 — Sugar and Spice 🔞

The bedroom was dim, cloaked in that late evening hush that always seemed to settle over the barracks like a heavy blanket. Rain lashed at the windows—dreary, dark, and miserable. No one wanted to be out in this, least of all Simon.  No, this was where he belonged—flat on his back, arms folded behind his head, propped against a stack of mismatched pillows on the slightly less rickety bed he’d snagged for himself years ago. Watching Johnny move in the half light like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.  His boyfriend—god, his boyfriend—hadn't fully undressed yet. He’d only managed to strip down to his socks and those—quite frankly sinful—heather gray sweats, the waistband riding low on his hips as he paced at the foot of the bed. Thinking, considering, planning— Fucking hell, he looked good when he focused like that. The sharp glint in his eyes, mouth curved in that same way that made Simon hot all over, left butterflies fluttering around his ribcage. And these days, they were numerous, no longer scared off by the rot clinging to his bones. Simon found that he didn't much mind the flowers blooming in their stead.

🎨 Chapter 10 — A Stray Dog (Artwork)

Tumblr, Bluesky, AO3

🎨 Chapter 11 — Hold Me Close/Don't Let Me Go (Artwork)

Tumblr, Bluesky, AO3

— art by @vozart —

(do not repost please!)

[lixie-phoria]

comforting bf!hyunjin

requested : yes | genre : angst with a happy ending | word count : 0.6k

Can I request y/n talking Hyunjin down from a breakdown and being there for him when he feels kinda numb after and helping him brush his hair, eat, and just being there for him through a hard time

an: this is my first time writing smth like this and I'm not sure how much I like how it's turned out :')

"Hyunjin. Let me in, please"

How long had it been? Half an hour? An hour? You weren't sure as you leaned your forehead against the door, cursing the locked barrier.

"Leave me alone."

His voice was raw, punctuated only by the soft sound of his stifled sobs.

"Jinnie, please. I want to help. Tell me what's wrong."

You were met with silence.

Hyunjin's practice had run late that night.

He'd been down for the past few days, so you stayed up to make sure he wouldn't return home to a cold, dark hall. But you hadn't expected him to storm in at 2 a.m, hair a mess and tear stains running down his cheeks. He didn't even give you a chance to speak. The first thing he'd done was lock himself into your shared bedroom, trying to muffle his sobs, but they seeped into the silence of the hall anyways.

"Babe, what's wrong? Did I do something?"

"No."

"Then let me in, please."

His reply was a strangled sob. "I don't want you seeing me like this. I'm a mess"

"I don't care how you look, hyunjin. I want to make sure you're alright."

It's a while before you hear the lock click, and you're on your feet immediately, pushing the door open to find your boyfriend seated at the foot of your bed, head in his hands and body shaking from sobs.

the sight broke your heart.

You're by his side in an instant, wrapping your arms around him as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, a fresh wave of sobs escaping him.

"What's wrong, hyune?"

"Do you love me?"

His question hung in the air, delicate and heart-wrenching.

"Of course I do. I love you. So much."

"But why?"

You rested your temple against his, sorrow digging a dagger into your heart. You hated seeing him like this.

"Where is all of this coming from?"

His hold around you tightens, but he doesn't answer.

"Is it the haters?"

You knew you had guessed correctly when he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

"that's not healthy. you know that. let me help you, please."

"not today."

you sighed. you don't want to push it. he'll come around eventually, he always does.

"how about in the morning?"

he nods silently as you finally turn your body to face his, gently taking his face in your hands.

"you know i love you, right? i love you no matter what. always."

he leans into your touch, eyes closing. "thank you."

"And you are not the opinion of someone who doesn't know you."

Though he couldn't see it, a soft smile plays at your lips as you press a kiss to his furrowed brow.

"do you want to eat something?"

"it's 3 in the morning."

"screw that."

that earns a small chuckle from him as he meets your gaze, warm brown orbs staring into yours.

"thank you," he repeats.

"you don't have to thank me, hyune."

you help him up from the floor, standing on your toes to tuck the lose strands that had escaped from his hair tie.

"i didn't think you'd stay with me after seeing me like this."

"i'll stay with you no matter what."

As the night slowly yielded to the first hints of dawn, you found yourselves nestled together on the bed. Hyunjin's breathing had steadied, and his weary eyes met yours with a newfound warmth.

"We're in this together, always," you whisper, lacing his fingers with yours as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss.

At that moment, a meteorite could've come crashing down upon the earth, but what mattered was that you were in his arms. safe.

tags : @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @laylasbunbunny (send an ask to be added/removed)

©lixie-phoria, 2023

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

pairing: poe dameron x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 1077

summary:

General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the General’s messages going unanswered, you’ve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.

author’s note: posting this as a sign of life, as it’s the only thing i’ve managed to finish over the last month 💀 i’m still working on my many joel, din, and frankie ideas. i’m just slow - hope you can forgive me.

tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), able bodied reader, no physical descriptions for reader, no use of y/n, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, pet names, uh kidnapping?

It was supposed to be a simple mission.

General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the General’s messages going unanswered, you’ve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.

Where it got complicated was somewhere around drink two, when Poe slid his arm around your waist and your heart skipped a beat as you met his dark gaze. His full lips tilted up in a smile that said he knew exactly what you were thinking and you were long gone, mission temporarily forgotten as he leaned in close and pressed a trail of kisses across your neck.

Now you’re on your back in a cramped bunk, fingers tangled in Poe’s curly hair as he devours you like a starving man, tongue lavishing your clit with agonizing determination. A thick finger presses to your entrance, sliding in with little resistance as your back arches from the bed.

“Maker, you’re a mess,” Poe murmurs on a breath, head raised to watch you as he works a second finger into you, pressing deep and curling them against your front wall as he withdraws. His tan skin is shiny with your arousal and his hair is a mess and you want to say something back about how he’s not looking too put together right now himself but you can’t, not with the way his skilled hands are driving you to the brink.

A few swipes of his thumb across your clit is all it takes to make you shatter, the walls of your cunt squeeze his fingers as you come and come and come. Poe’s hand withdraws slowly and he presses your thighs apart, watching as you pulse around nothing and you whine at the loss.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he says, sitting up and working the belt of his flight pants loose. “Not finished yet.”

Poe shoves his pants down his thighs, only enough to expose his cock. He leans forward, elbows pressed into the mattress beside your head as he slides his length against your slick heat, brushing over your sensitive clit with each movement. His mouth finds yours and he kisses you deeply, his spicy scent and the earthy taste of your own release invading your senses as he does. The head of his cock catches against your entrance and he presses forward the slightest bit before pulling back again.

“Quit teasing,” you command, but your voice vibrates with need. He does it again, a little deeper this time, and again, a little deeper still.

“You can just say you want my cock,” he says, self-assured tone punctuated with a smirk. “Come on, say it.”

You stare up at him defiantly as he inches his hips forward, slowly, slowly, slowly. Your clenched jaw loosens, mouth dropping open on a gasp as he drags across a sensitive spot inside of you, and he stops, holding himself still inside of you. Despite all his arrogance, you can still see the way he’s fraying at the edges. It’s in the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way the muscles in his neck have gone taut, the crack of joints as his hands clench into tight fists on the bed.

“Fuck me, Poe,” you finally say.

And fuck you he does.

He sits up on his knees, your ass perched on his thighs and his hands holding tight to your hips as he slams deep, punching the air from your lungs. His pace is brutal, powerful, singular determination etched into his features as he uses your body for his own pleasure now.

Hi hands leave your hips to lean over you once more, one hand on the mattress by your head and the other pressing one of your legs up and to the side, opening you wide. His hips slow from a piston to a smooth wave, each deep slide of him making you moan his name.

“That’s it,” he groans, “Who’s making you feel this good, sweetheart, huh?”

“You, Poe,” you reply.

“That’s right.” He drops to his elbows again, pressed close against your body, thrusts morphing into a grind that keeps you full. He sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, soothes the ache with a kiss, and whispers how good you feel into your ear until you’re shaking, quietly begging for him to make you come again.

His hand slides between your bodies, fingers rubbing sloppy circles through the slick gathered on your skin. Another nip of his teeth sends you over the edge and he moans, deep and guttural against your neck as he fills you with a new warmth, cock pulsing as the waves of your own orgasm drag one from him.

You’re both panting, gasping for breath as you come down from your twin highs. Poe pulls out and turns over to land on the sliver of bed available between your body and the wall. He kicks his pants off into a pile at the foot of the bed and wraps an arm around your middle, pulling your body against his.

“Stay,” he mumbles against your neck, a kiss pressed behind your ear. You don’t respond, you don’t have to. He’s asleep within seconds, gentle snores filling the small bunk space.

When you’re certain he’s out cold, you slide out from beneath his arm and dress yourself. You try not to think too hard about how you’d like to crawl back into bed with him, not while you’re digging your comm unit from your pants.

Ready for extraction.

When Poe wakes up, the first thing he notices is that you’re not there.

The second thing he notices is that he’s not even in his own bunk.

He sits up, panic coursing through his veins. Where is he? Where are you? Are you alright? Is he—

“Commander Dameron,” your familiar voice says through a speaker. Poe looks up, finds you watching him from the other side of a transparisteel window. “You’re safe. You’re currently on a Resistance base in an undisclosed location.”

“How did—“

“You’re a very heavy sleeper, Commander. You should probably have a medic droid look into that for you,” you say, cutting off his question. “You’ve been brought here to speak with General Organa.”

Poe smirks. “Do they know how exactly you got me here, sweetheart?”

“It’s Captain, actually.”

All masterlists

[cuntyhunty22]

Good men die too, oh I'd rather be with you. (Part 3)

Joel x reader

Description: revert to parts one and two. Linked below.

Joel and you have an unexpected visitor, you try to work through your emotions and concerns In the relationship. Sex.. lots of sex..

Tags: public sex, rough sex, daddy kink, dirty talk, cream pie, fluff. (If I missed any let me know.)

•

•

Joel's jaw clenches. He steps back away from you turning to face Sarah's mother who is standing in the doorway of the kitchen. What . Are . You . Doing . Here. His words very punctuated. Well can I come see my daughter? she asks. since it looks like you are fucking someone that could be her sister.

You can come see her but you never do.. unless it's to fuck with her head.. or because you need something. You have been in and out of her life since she was born, so what do you want this time.? oh and also who I'm fucking has no concern to you. You stay there silent, because if you are being honest these emotions are too much to deal with. Between the late period, to now this. Sarah's mom stands there glaring at you. Joel.. she trails off , how can you be so stupid.. ? after all the years I've known you.. had a child together.. she's obviously using you.. look at her.. she young enough to be your daughter. The way she said this was so snide like every remark was a knife to your gut. Obviously she is living in this house. Does she even have a job.? You always want to help the damaged, and in the end Joel it's just gonna hurt you. Mom... enough. Sarah says. Dad for once in his life is happy. Leave it alone.

You couldn't hide the shocked facial expression on your face. Shocked Sarah spoke up. Shocked that she admitted to her mother that her father was happy. No sarah.. he isn't happy.. he's blinded by some pussy. Pardon my language but you're old enough. You cleared your throat. "Um yeah okay I've stayed silent for long enough. Hi sorry to meet you like this..would have loved to do the the right way, but he isn't pussy blinded, we have been friends for years before we became a couple.. we aren't just fucking we are in a relationship, and we are in love, yes I may be damaged and I might be a mess but I love him. And I love your daughter and they are my family."

Ah- she chuckles.. you are that bartender aren't ya.. the one that had the boyfriend that beat the shit out of her all the time.. she does a snarky laugh. You are taken over by anger as you lunge towards her. Joel catches you holding you back. Easy darlin, let it go. Mom.. it's time to go Sarah says.. let me walk you out. Sarah looks at you.. I'm sorry she says. "It's okay." Joel this is going to ruin you Sarah's mom says as she walks out..

•

About a half hour goes by and you are sitting on the counter in the kitchen. Frozen. Unable to move. Everything has hit you at one time. The trauma from the past few months. You almost getting killed. Joel beating your ex to a pulp. Falling in love. Healing. Questioning if you are carrying his child.. and now this. You can take family drama believe me. You've had the fair share of it. But when it came to Sarah and Joel that's different. You refused to complicate their life anymore than you already had.

Hey.. darlin.. darlin.. can you hear me.? "Yeah sorry. Zoned out. Um.. I think I'm gonna go for a drive.. " you hop off the counter grab your purse and bolt out the door.. not saying a word. If there is one thing about you that you know for gospel , it's when you feel, like you really feel you fucking run. if you run you can't fuck it up anymore.

You reach your car and slam the door. Joel running after you. You speed out so he can't catch up and all you see in the rear view mirror is him standing in the driveway. At this point you feel no better than Sarah's mom. You left.. not permanently but you still left when things got a tad bit bad. You don't know where to go.. hell Joel is all you have.. you didnt wanna go to the bar, so you just drove to where your mind led you.. and your at the lake.

•

Oddly this reminds you of back home.. you aren't sure if it's ever came up with Joel but you aren't from here. You were raised in the Midwest moved down south at 21. As a child you would go to the lake everyday in the summer.. walk the paths, go fishing. You were there sun up to sun down. You park your car, and you walk the paths leading to an embankment on the lake. And maybe this is what you needed. something to ground you.

Sitting in the grass you hear footsteps.. your first instinct is to grab your knife because maybe this is how it ends, maybe your ex is finally out of jail and he's came to find you. "I have a knife.. I'll fuckin cut- "

hi darlin. Joel cuts you off. You drop the knife and sob. Come here, lemme hold you. Joel sits down on the ground beside you and pulls you into his arms. What did I tell you months ago hmm? That no one would ever hurt you.. that you are safe.. darlin I Iove you okay. I don't care what people think or... "Joel I'm late on my period."

•

He looks you. Jesus Christ. That's what you were gonna tell me this morning before Sarah's mother came.? "Yes" and that's why you ran.? "I ran because I felt too deeply, because I thought if I run then things wouldn't hurt. It's a bad defense mechanism I know. And I wasn't leaving for good I just needed a minute to get my brain to shut up. But even then I felt guilty." Don't feel guilty, Joel grabs your hands and kisses them. You've been through a lot darlin and this morning was a lot for all of us, and now to know you already had something else stressful goin on your mind.

I'm sorry, that won't happen again. "Joel.?" Yes angel. Maria mentioned that Sarah's mom would come in and out and fuck with your head.. has that been super recent..? before me.. ? I know I have no right to ask because I was still in a relationship when things progressed with us and that's like hypocritical and now I'm just rambling." You nervously chuckle.

When did you talk to Maria about this.? I'm not mad, just curious s'all. But she would.. but it's been at least over a year where it wa remotely anything and even then she would lie say she wants the family and then she would leave... anyways that's not important.. Joel clears his throat nervous to ask what he's really wondering. Um.. so.. darlin.. how late are you..?

"About a week.. maybe it's nothin. Sometimes stress can make it late or maybe these meds I'm on. It's fine if you don't want this I'll go, I'll raise it alone or go to the clinic.. Hell I don't know."

Joel looks at you. The most serious you have seen besides the night he claimed to protect you. Darlin. Did you not hear anything I said the other night when you brought children up. Hmm.? Or how I said I'm here no matter what. You stare at him. Because honestly you're just so used to people lying to you. "Are you sure. I mean we don't even know for sure Joel." Once again, what you want is I want. Now let's go home please, Sarah feels terrible so she wants to do something with you today.

•

"Actually there's something I want before we go home.."

and what's that he asks, head tilted with curiosity.

You stand up, you start stripping off the flannel you had on dropping it to the ground exposing your breasts, then you pop of the shorts. bare skin under no panties. Joel is watching every move you make. You start walking down the slight embankment till you reach the water. It's about waist deep maybe a little deeper.

"You coming in.?" You smirk. Skinny dipping, in broad daylight.? "Come on old man, is that too wild for you.?" Joel stands up, he pulls his teeshirt off with ease, next he un fastened his belt, staring into your soul with every item he removed. That look that drove you wild, and it made your core ache for him. Off came his jeans, and then his underwear exposing how hard he was already.

Joel made his way to you in the water, you jumped into his arms wrapping your legs around his waist. Hungrily you kiss him, biting his lower lip he let out a moan. His cock sliding against your entrance, pulsating with every kiss. Joel lifts you up slightly moving you so he can slam you down on the entirety of his cock, " fuck. God you're so fucking big" and you're so fucking tight he replies.

The water splashing with every thrust as Joel brings you up and down at a steady pace. You're taking me so well baby, shouldn't you be sore from the hard fucking daddy gave you last night.? "Mhmmm I love when you talk to me dirty.. keep doing it." Does that make that tight little cunt wet.? Hmm you like hearing an old man be filthy to you? He growls, you dirty little whore. You let out a scream as Joel hits your cervix. Shhh baby you don't want people to see you fucking your old man in public do you.? " I fucking do" now you are baring your own weight, arms wrapped around his neck. bouncing up and down on his cock. not caring how Loud the water is or the fact someone very well could walk down that path at any moment. Oh you do, do ya.? " I fucking- ah fuck Joel.. take me on the bank."

•

He carries you out of the water and places you down on to the bank. "Lay down." You demand. Joel lays down, and you stratal him not waisting anytime shoving his cock right back into you. God you feel so good Joel says. you gon' ride me baby.? "I am daddy, im gonna ride your cock so good, I'm gonna be your good little whore. You like that huh.?" I do, I love that so fucking much and I love you so fucking much.

You are grinding Joel in a perfect rhythm, his cock sliding in and out as you bounce up and down. Joel sits up to pull you closer. his body to your body. his arms wrapped around you closing out any space possible. your still riding him, he starts kissing down your neck to your breasts which make you whimper.

Mhmm, sensitive today baby.? He does it again, but this time sucks on your nipple, and your pussy clinches. Oh .. his head tilts.. you pick up your pace, furiously bouncing on his cock not leaving an inch behind. "Cum in me." Needy today are we? Joel then bites on your nipple his tongue swirling around it. It sends you into a spiral. Joel looks at you his eyes dark with lust. Tell me how needy you are. "Needy for you to ruin me, needy for you to breed me, needy to be your personal fuck toy." Joel growls as he takes one nipple into his mouth sucking and pinching the other. he is now bucking his hips shoving his cock deeper and deeper.

Hmmmm, if your so needy to be my fuck toy, then cum for me. "No I want you- his hand covers your mouth as he increases your rhythm to ride him harder and faster, I said cum for me and then daddy will give you what you want , my hot load spilling deep into your pussy ruining it for any other man because you are mine. And just like that he unraveled you like no man ever has. Body trembling but his cock still sliding in and out of you slow and steady. Such a good girl for daddy Joel purred into your ear. "Mhmmm now give me what I really want." Darlin demanding things in this position is a ballsy thing to do.

Joel flips you on to your back slightly knocking the air from your lungs waisting no time he starts thrusting steady but hard. Every thrust had a meaning. Had a purpose . Joel picks up his pace. You let out another whimper and that was it. you unraveled again. Making Joel moan louder than he ever has. Being such a good girl taking everything he was giving you. "Mhmmm I need. Please." You need what baby tell me. "Ah I ah- Joel please." Begging me to coat that pussy, cock drunk are we darlin. Joel's eyes not leaving yours, watching every little move you make under him ever little whimper. Totally immersed into you. If he isn't going to give you what you wanted you knew how to make him, you move you hand pressing two fingers on your clit rubbing it, oh baby keep doing that, hmm fuck your s'sexy my pretty little sex toy, my obsession.. Joel grunts. Daddy is gonna give you what you want now. "Please." He spills inside of you sending you over the edge again as his body collapses on yours totally forgetting you are in the middle of the woods. You kiss down his jaw to his neck making him groan. Babygirl daddy is tired. You chuckle. "Good I did my job. Wearin my old man out."

You both put your clothes on headed back to the parking lot. "I'll see you at home.?" Yes, do you want me to stop at the store for a test. So you can head home shower and relax before we get into things with Sarah.? "Sure Joel thank you, I don't know what I did to deserve you. Deserve this. I've always felt like I was hard to love, till you have made it seem to easy. I'm still sorry for earlier."

•

You already made it up to me, Joel winks at you. Darlin you got me out here fuckin like rabbits at 50 years old, he chuckles. you've brought life back to me in many ways. And that's because you are easy to love, honestly from the moment I've met you I've loved you In some way.

From loving to see your smile at the bar after a hard day at work,to you taking care of me there knowin my order by heart, your laugh when I make shitty jokes, the fact you can't survive without coffee, which makes me think of something... Do you remember the day I brought you coffee and you thought it was the best day ever because the coffee pot at bucks was broken. Joel blushes.( something that hardly happens) I had in my mind that day I needed to impress you somehow.

Because even when I was grumpy you were the sweetest peach to me. And I have loved getting to know every little thing and detail. To wanting to give you better in anyway I could.. And the wild wild sex we have I would be crazy if I didn't love that. "Mr miller as rugged and grumpy as you are boy you have a way with words."

You kiss him. " see you at home, I love you."

•

You make it home, your body covered In dirt, smelling of lake water and sex. You came back, Sarah says walking up to you going in for a hug. "I did. I don't scare away that easy, was just overstimulated. And sorry I smell I need a shower .. dad and I went on an adventure." She chuckled I don't even wanna know.. but I'm glad you are home and I am sorry.

"Don't be girly, as much as I have daddy issues I have my fair share of mommy ones too. Just know I get it, and if you wanted to talk im here. obviously your dad is amazing he so caring and we are both so lucky to have him. I'm gonna shower okay, tell him when he gets home." I'm sure he will hear the water running and he will be on his way, she chuckled. He really does love you.. I see it, how he looks at you.. and thank you for that. He's been through a lot. "I think you both were meant to find me Sarah, maybe we all were meant to find eachother. Be out in a few."

•

Still high on the sex session you and Joel had earlier, the hot water ignites the hot feeling in your body. How does this man do this to you. You want him. Need him constantly. Totally consumed on loving him. And it hits you .. you are totally head over heels in love. Your thoughts interrupted by the shower door opening. You lean back and those big arms embrace you. "Hi there, this is becoming a habit isn't it." you complainin? "Not in the slightest, but I do think we shouldn't be in here for an hour again. Mhmm Joel kisses you neck. Won't be, just wanted to comfort you. "Okay.." got the test.. figured we'd shower and I'll be in here while you do it, figure things out together. His lips so close to your ear. This soft side no one sees of him, something that you have become very accustomed to. Because honestly he's always been soft with you, even when he thought he wasn't. You cleaned one another, sharing a few kisses here and there. It was something so intimate, something typically that would scare you. But it didn't.

•

"You really gonna watch me pee on a stick.?" Darlin.. if you are self conscious about peeing on a stick In front of me, after all we have done there is a problem. You chuckle. "Okay here we go... now we wait 10 minutes." You are sitting on the toilet and Joel plops down on the floor in front of you. Okay we wait. He grabs your hand. Rubbing his thumb gently. "Are you sure this would be okay.? Like Sarah is grown. Would she be okay.?" I think as long as I'm happy, Sarah would be too. "It's not weird.? Honestly to me it's kinda triggering with my dad and all." How so.. Joel looks at you confused.. I know we don't talk about your pop much.. "more or less he left started a whole new family I have siblings way younger. I love them, but at first it was definitely like a hatred , like I hated that he was with them and when I was their age he wasn't with me." Ah, I see. Well our situation is different.. "I agree it is, how much longer..?" 2 mins. Neither one of you have even looked at the test. Just been sharing this moment together. The timer goes off.. we look together.. Joel says.. 3.. 2.. 1..

•

"HOLY SHIT."

[vibratingskull]

Our mudane evening

Tag: Fingering, orgasm

Thrawnxf!reader

Everyone have a way to deal with stress and everyday pressure, Thrawn is no exception

Inhale…

Exhale…

Don’t lose the momentum.

You’re repeating this mantra in your mind, concentrating on your breathing.

Thrawn is humming a soft tune you've never heard, sliding through his datapad with one hand and tormenting you with the other.

You let a gasp pass your lips when a firm finger trailed up your slit, igniting your desir. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek without looking away from the screen.

You clench the bed frame harder.

Your evening had started out mundane, but here you are now sitting on your lover's lap lazily reclined in your bed struggling to control your mewls.

Focus.

Since the beginning of the evening he had you come several times, forcing out of your mouth the most obscene noises without regard for your dignity.

It does happen when other Imperial officers refuse to go his way or something unpredictable comes to jeopardize his well planned campaign. In those tiring moments, he enjoys having you on his lap in the smallest apparel and playing with you.

No angry intercourse where he would fuck away all his frustration. No, he prefers taking his time, slowly turning you on, taking you to the edge and pushing you beyond as many times as it pleases him. Until he gains back control and agency leaving you a mess, shaking all over, overstimulated but satisfied.

Granted, this is the most petty behavior he could display but you wouldn't refuse such a night.

It is a dance you know by heart, you've both repeated it many times before. Each step resulting in a moan and every tremor an invitation to explore further.

A “tsk” and a light slap to your cunt brought you back to reality. No daydreaming when Thrawn is taking care of you, his attention deserves no less than your complete focus.

Your hips jolt away at the abrupt slap and he chuckles lightly before whispering in your ear:

"You can hold onto me if it is too much."

His low but soft tone sends shivers down your spine and you gladly let go of the metal bed frame to wrap your arms around his neck, snuggling up against his warm body with a sigh of contentment. The contrast with the cold room gives you goosebumps and deliciously heightens the sensations.

"Make yourself comfortable ch'eo ch'acah."

He curls his fingers inside you and you ride them with delight, feeling the pleasure building back up again. His thumb finds your clit and starts toying with it, alternating between sweet pressure and a torturous rub.

You bite your lips, swinging your hips to increase the sensations. You could feel your wetness dripping onto his fingers and running down your thigh's tender flesh.

Thrawn lays his pad on the side of the bed, freeing his second hand to ease the muscles of your back under your blouse, pushing you closer against him. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Don’t. I'm covered in sweat." You protest breathily.

"I do not mind." He responds, punctuating each word with a kiss on your shoulder, slowly going back to your ear "It is the scent of effort…"

A kiss

"Of abandon…"

A kiss

"... Of your pleasure. It is intoxicating." Reaching your cheek, he slides his tongue following the same trail.

"And above all," He adds another finger inside you, hitting every single one of your sweet spots. "I love that it is I who is the cause of it."

He earns a high pitched gasp when his hand slided from your back to grab your thigh, spreading it wider and facilitating his access to your core. He scrutinizes your blissed expression with a satisfied smile.

"Tell me. Do I satisfy you? Tell me, ch'acah."

It takes all your willpower to not melt under his smoldering gaze. It makes you feel like the sole being in the universe and you harbor the hope he knows you look at him the same way.

"You -hah- you already know the answer."

"But nothing will be more satisfying than hearing it from your lips," He responds with the tip of his finger under your chin, guiding your lips a centimeter away from a feverish kiss, ”Tell me, am I still everything you have ever desired? I want to hear it from your mouth. I do like to know when my work is appreciated."

" I… You…" You try to formulate a coherent response but you start feeling a familiar warmth spreading inside of you.

"Use your words, ch'eo cssapusi." He purrs.

A delicious shudder shakes your body at the sensation of his dexterous fingers inside you. He knows all your sweet spots by heart and plays with them with every nickname he gives you.

"You're the only one I -hah- have ever desired so intensely. You -hah- you fill my head and make my heart beat," You suddenly dig your nails in his shoulders "Maker! Don’t stop, I'm so close!"

"Then kiss me like you mean it."

No need to tell you twice, your hands move to hold his gorgeous face and you crash your mouth on his, kissing him fervidly. His hand slipped behind your head, embracing you even closer, deepening the kiss with an equally eager desire. His other hands accelerate its ministrations, sliding in and out, hooking you and meeting the erratic rhythm of your sex craving its sweet release.

At last the surge comes to an end when the vortices of pleasure come crashing down upon you like furious waves, drowning everything else but a delicious feeling of repletion and pleasant warmth. Your satisfied pleas are silenced by your languid kiss, and you can feel his swollen lips forming a light smile.

The kiss ends and you slowly regain your breath, forehead against forehead, letting occasionally a low chuckle, simply happy to be with one another.

Thrawn leaves pecks on your forehead while loosening his collar.

"You did well ch'eo ch'acah, as always."

You exhale a thanks and notice his movements are steady but his voice is shakened, even though he's good at hiding it. Your performance didn't leave him unbothered and you didn't miss it.

Your hand gets a hold of his still working on his collar squeezing it gently, while your second trails down to his too tight trousers.

"Leave it be. I'm taking care of you from now on."

ch'eo ch'acah - My love

ch'eo cssapusi - My treasure

@exoplorationn, @bluechiss

[needtoloveoutloud]

Hi Becks!! I love your fanfic on Ao3 I really like how you did the plot. I really want to start writing on Ao3 but i don’t really know how to start, any tips? like do you map it out and also how did you come up with yorus quirk?? it is a very cool and interesting quirk. I can’t wait for the next chapter I love your writing ! 💗

Hi Anon! 🤍

Sorry for the late reply — I wanted to take my time with answering you thorougly.

First of all, thank you very much for your kind words! It means a lot. Also, congrats on wanting to write and publish your own work(s) on AO3, too!

I'm not sure I can give you very qualified and profound advice on this since I'm basically doing all of this for the first time, too, but I can share my “process” with you, if you like.

But: I don't think there is a wrong or right way of doing creative things. First and foremost, I think it's important to know and to remember that you write for yourself and not for a specific audience or target group. You're not here to please or make anybody happy other than yourself. Writing is a fun hobby (if you don't do it professionally and make your bucks off of it) and while it should challenge us, I don't think that it should ever feel like a chore.

Right, so, I'm not an expert on any of this, as mentioned before and if anybody knows better ways or has tips or tricks, feel free to butt in in the comments.

AO3

Tagging is super duper important. AO3 does not work via an algorithm — it's in the name: it's merely an archive of stories. It's not how it is on Wattpad (or something similar) where other people might get your story recommended via an algorithm on their dashboard. People find stories they are interested in solely through tags.

Meaning: Properly tag the rating, the relationships, any and all warnings that apply (personally, I also add individual trigger warnings to the chapters if there are any), additional tags, etc. That is how your story gets found. Or, in other cases, people can exclude specific tags they're not comfortable with or are not interested in.

An interesting summary that makes people want to know more. This one is always a bit difficult for me, especially when it comes to a summary of the whole story and not just single chapters. But it's incredibly important. The further you get into your story, the easier it gets, though.

I think the author's notes are a lovely feature. They're not necessary, but I think it sort of helps with connecting with the readers — which is an incredibly nice thing to happen, it's one of my favorite things about this whole experience.

People may forgive some grammar mistakes and typos, but you should definitely double- and triple-read and edit your chapters before publishing. Personally, not gonna lie, I sometimes leave fanfics when I notice too many errors. Well, too many to a point that make it hard to follow the story, at least.

Drafts only stay drafts for 30 days! Doesn't matter if you edit them in the meantime, the important date is the date you originally set the draft up. Once those 30 days are over, your draft is lost and never to be found again. Poof, gone. I would always, always recommend pre-writing your story somewhere else.

If you do pre-write your story somewhere else before giving it a final edit in the AO3 drafts prior to publishing, check the formatting after copy-pasting it to AO3. It sometimes messes things up. (cursive and strike-outs sometimes disappear, random blank spaces between punctuation appear, etc.)

I prefer my stories in block-quote, but that's just a personal preference, I think.

Outlining the story

The idea for an OC insert into a canon story is not exactly new. An OC that gets adopted (or something of the like) by a character from an existing story is not new, either. So, Yoru's general concept is not something that has never been done before. OC stories are not everyone's cup of tea, and that's fine. I feel like it's kind of niche, even. Over the course of a few weeks, I sort of came up with Yoru, but she wasn't mapped out. It was more of an idea, really - super vague. She didn't have a name, no quirk, no real backstory, nothing. All I knew is that I wanted Aizawa to have to take care of yet another kid :D

I use trello for outlining the story. So, what I did, and still do, is: I watch the anime, and on another tab, I have the corresponding manga chapter open. Sometimes those two types of media differ a bit from each other, and I feel like this method gives a full picture of everything. I also read all the light novels since they add a bit more depth and story to some characters, as well as a bit of introspective.

With the trello board, I have a LOT of different lists with countless cards in them (trello is free, btw!). I have them sorted in multiple different categories (pre-canon, visuals and settings (I built their apartment, loft, as well as Yoru's dorm room in Planner 5D, it helped me immerse even more). just some little things that will never be mentioned in the story most likely, a card about Yoru with a lot of information and facts about her, one about Shota, one about Nemuri/Hizashi, one about Toshi, one about Bakugo, one about the rest of class 1-A, then a pic moodboard (which I connected with Pinterest — Pinterest is amazing for inspiration, too), songs that fit or songs that Yoru could write that I will then rewrite to fit her and the story even more, some quotes that either pop into my head at 3 AM in the night or I heard/read somewhere else that I re-wrote completely to fit certain scenes and the story better, plot points that suddenly pop into my head at the weirdest times that I could always come back to should I ever have no idea where to take the story next, little scenarios that are interesting to happen on the side, some moments I'd like to include but don't yet know where they might fit in, as well as thoughts on certain things that happen in canon and how they might play out in SPPF. All of that is just the basic stuff, which is a lot already. Then comes the canon material. Phew. So, I have lists with ALL the seasons and movies and OVA's and light novels in chronological order. Some cards are more detailed while some are only rough ideas and some might not even make it in the final draft and get cut out. Here's an example screenshot:

I also have multiple spotify playlists to set the mood and get into the characters while I write certain chapters. This kind of helps me get into things a bit more (yep, I'm also currently listening to Yoru's and Anon's playlist — there are a lot more songs in there than we read in the chapters — things happen off-screen, too, after all).

Some people can simply start writing and that works for them. It's not like that for me — I need to have certain “anchor points”, even if some stuff might actually vary from my initial plan in the end. That is mostly because I weave in a lot of foreshadowing, symbolism, small details that might or might not become important later, etc. It also helps me to be stringent in my wording and character portrayal.

Writing

I again have my Trello board, the manga, Google Docs, and the anime open at the same time (I am super grateful to have two big monitors!). I pre-wrote a lot of the things a LONG time ago (2023) and SPPF might have organically evolved differently in some areas, so I like to have all the resources (canon and my own) available at the same time.

Then, I just go absolutely ham on writing as best as I can. (Pause th anime, compare it with the manga, play the anime, pause it, etc. - it takes A LONG time to do that!) Sometimes it flows, sometimes it doesn't — and that's okay — even if it can be frustrating. There is no time limit or quota that you have to meet. Write for yourself and what you want to see first and foremost. Sometimes it takes me weeks to finish a chapter, sometimes I finish a 15k chapter within a day. You never know how the muse strikes you (or hits you over the head). :)

Then, I let the chapter sit for a while. A few days, most of the time. Then I go back to it and read it. That's when you can even out things, notice errors and inconsistencies, etc. You notice those kinds of things with a little bit of “distance” you could say. I don't have a (objective) beta reader, so I'm kind of raw-dogging everything. Though, my husband does read the chapters practically as soon as I tell him that they're “done”. He sometimes finds a few things to correct, so giving people your stories to read before publishing definitely helps. Constructive criticism is incredibly valuable — do NOT take it to heart.

Once I'm happy with the chapter, I move on to the next one, and do the same things. Note that those chapters are NOT yet published. The published chapters are usually a few behind the ones I have already written. I like having back-up chapters, it sort of takes the pressure off. It's hard to explain.

And then when the time comes to put the chapter into AO3, I re-read it again and sometimes even add things right there and then. Because at this point, there are weeks between initially writing it and uploading it. This is also the time when I fix the formatting etc.

About SPPF

I had a few ideas for Yoru's quirk. Unfortunately, I lost my initial list (my dumb ass deleted it from my Trello board after I decided on her quirk) but I do remember a few others. One was called “Karma” and basically let whatever pain (physical/emotional, etc.) reflect it on either the person causing it or someone in a certain proximity. One was basically a DnD quirk, like she'd have a D20 dice she'd roll, and depending on the outcome it could be incredibly good or incredibly bad. However, both of these things didn't feel right and the D20 thing could have altered canon too much. But the main reason why I didn't decide on them was that... there wasn't enough angst and growth potential. Another one was that she could feel everyone's feelings. Like, all the time. The angst potential was there, but not the hero potential. Then the idea about her current quirk slowly started forming as well as her backstory and how it could evolve and play a part in the canon story without altering it too much came with it, too. Along with that, came the angst, of course.

I'm super happy with her quirk now because there are also so many things we don't know yet, and they will slowly be revealed and have already been hinted at, even. I really like that Yoru's quirk so closely ties together with her past and therefore her personality.

(I'm sure Yoru would have been happier with a different quirk.)

I actually came up with her name after settling with her current quirk. I wanted a fitting name since Horikoshi tends to name characters after their quirks/personalities, too. Yoru literally means night/dark and something along the lines of poetry, so it fits her incredibly well (she writes her songs, remember?). :)

With quirks, especially OC quirks, one of the main things is to give them a drawback. Take Clockmaster's quirk, for example. It can only be used for a certain amount of time and in a certain radius. It's still incredibly powerful, but we see power imbalances in quirks in canon, too (for example Endeavor vs. Ojiro). For Yoru, it's things we don't even know yet (if I told you now, it would be a MASSIVE spoiler), but also her quirk clashing with other quirks (Tokoyami's and Clockmasters, for example) — but more importantly: the limits she (often rightfully) sets herself. She is her own biggest enemy, and that is often far, far harder to overcome than any outside obstacle.

It's also fun to think about how quirks “came to be” in a person. As in: what were the quirks of the parents, and how would they combine within a child? Would it combine? Would the child perhaps completely inherit the quirk of one parent, or would it be a mix of quirks like it is the case with Yoru?

Most importantly, write for yourself, Anon. You are your most important audience.

I wish you a lot of fun, creativity, and growth on your journey! And I hope this helped you a little bit. 🤍

[urconductor]

#URCONDUCTOR; indie roleplay blog for pom-pom from honkai: star rail, written by ender. canon & headcanon-based. please read rules before interacting!

DOSSIER. (tbd. pom-pom is an adult and goes by they/he pronouns tho)

RULES BELOW CUT.

Hello, hello! I’m Ender, an adult and an extroverted gal with autism and ADHD. Thanks for taking the time to read this! There’s no password to send in, so no need to look for one! Please read these carefully. Be 16 or above to interact.

BLACKLIST: TRIGGERS. i NEED these tagged. i have a physiological and psychological response to these topics that can greatly affect my mental health. if you can't respect my triggers, we cannot write together. My catch-all tags are "ender dont look" and "ender don't look".

any religious themes, emphasis on them when they're minor, and/or religious intolerance.

use of the word “god” in reference to powerful beings. Replacing such things with “ruler”/etc and generally making relations akin to king/subjects are good buffers that I can work with.

excessive verbal swearing

craneflies and daddy-long-legs

Extremely heavy organic gore visuals, especially in regard to organs, guts, and the heart

vi.vziepop, good omens, supernatural, c.ult of the lamb

BLACKLIST: SQUICKS. i'd appreciate these being tagged as well, but they do not spawn a severe reaction from me. i just want to avoid them.

any deep, in-depth descriptions of non-fantasy occult/magic + occult in general (like direct mentions of ouija boards, details of rituals, and stuff)

all smut and lewd content

politics/drama

TAGGING. I tag writing and fictional-related talk of potentially triggering topics as #trigger cw. various medias are tagged as #media cw. If I miss anything or you need something tagged, please tell me in DMs! i’m happy to help you curate your experience, and i want everyone to stay safe. /gen

INTERACTIONS.

non-roleplay blogs, please do not reblog any of my posts. if it's someone else's art/musing/photo/etc I've reblogged, those are free game! but please do not touch posts made by me whether they are in-character, out-of-character, or just my sketches. thanks!

I am mutually exclusive but am generally super friendly! I'll give nearly everyone a chance, even if I don’t know the muse or media! Crossovers, even with no plotting beforehand, are really fun.

i require a rules page to read before I follow, and won’t follow until I’ve read the rules. I tend to like promos to bookmark them so I can read the person’s rules later.

i won’t follow people who do not tag any of their posts. even basic “ic” or “ooc” or “musing” tags and such are good! I don’t care how fancy or simple your tags are, I just care that you have them and use them consistently.

i am duplicate and OC-friendly! For OCs, I require at least a simple About page to look at ‘cause I prefer to know your character a little before interacting! Duplicates are also fun for me to plot with ‘cause past/future meetings, AU meets canon, etc. are SUPER epic plots and very fun! I’m very used to duplicates and have been for years across different RPCs ^.^

i do not roleplay in “character: text” or *action* format. I prefer to interact with people who roleplay paragraph style and have a basic grasp of grammar, punctuation, and spelling; I completely understand if English isn’t your first language, though!

i do not mind unplotted violence against my muse, especially if they're messing around and finding out. however, make sure you are also prepared for the consequences. I love action and battle threads, but anything significant must be plotted.

MUN POLICIES.

Mun does NOT equal muse. Just because I, the mun, think or know something does not mean that my muse will. I’m an omnipresent narrator, they are characters in-universe. They each will have different thoughts and opinions than I will. It should go without saying that I do not condone everything any of my muses do.

i am a slow writer. I have college and several other things that take up my time, so I can’t be here twenty-four-seven! Also, my muse fluctuates. I may reply to something instantly if I have the muse for it, or I may get to it weeks later. I hoard drafts and asks like a dragon to get to them eventually! BUT feel free to nudge me if you want to remind me, I won’t mind!

importantly, I match my partner’s energy. If someone frequently engages me to talk about our characters, I’m likely to do the same! Unfortunately, the same applies if we hardly interact or talk at all; I’m good at interacting and communicating first, but I have a limited pool of energy.

i do not ship romantically on this blog. I don’t mind others’ romantic content, I simply personally abstain from writing romantic ships due to being harassed over them in the past. However, I love familial ships, platonic ships, rivalries, work relationships, enemy/antagonistic dynamics, and relations that can't necessarily be defined with words!

ON FANDOMS & MEDIA.

Expect headcanons to sometimes fluctuate and also expect canon divergence.

i am unaffiliated with any fandoms or creators.

i will interact with/make AUs for the following fandoms. Still, they can be tagged upon request: Final Fantasy(i know the most about VII, VIII, IX, X, XV, Unlimited, Dissidia, Dissidia 012), Sonic The Hedgehog, Pokemon, Portal, Gravity Falls, Ducktales 2017, A Hat in Time, Little Nightmares, Over The Garden Wall, OMORI, IB, The Legend of Zelda, Don’t Starve, Pocket Mirror, Super Mario Bros., Spiderverse, and Overwatch. I am very selective but not opposed to Five Nights at Freddy's, Murder Drones and The Amazing Digital Circus interactions. For these, if I followed you first/we’re mutuals, then we’re chill!

[dameronswife-2]

i know that our love was fate (ii)

Word Count: 355 words!

Warnings/Tags: firefight, volya being so, so into her husband and vice versa.

A/N: so I decided to make this a kind of daily challenge, a little short ficlet of Poe and Volya every day! I kind of want it to be a glimpse into their lives together as told through various kisses. I think it's fun! I may not cross-post each one though because that would be a lot.

“So are we going to talk about it?” Volya asks, voice raised over the volley of blasts drumming - and ricocheting - behind the table they’ve ducked behind.

Poe glances over at her: she’s checking her blaster, shoulders hiked up as another laser bolt flies precariously inches over their heads. Her cheeks are flushed, lekku swaying slightly at her shoulders. She looks alive in that wild, reckless way he adores. “Talk about what?”

There’s a lull in the fire and Volya peers around their makeshift cover, punctuating her response with a handful of shots, “The fact that the Guavian Death Gang knows you by name?”

He winces. “I might’ve run into them a couple times in the past.”

Volya rears backwards, narrowly missing being hit by another bolt. Poe’s heart staggers in his chest, and then does it again for a vastly different reason when Volya turns to look at him, eyebrows raised, a smirk pulling on her lips. “I’m guessing that things didn’t go their way either time?”

Despite himself, despite the situation they’re in (and in because of him, no less), Poe huffs a laugh. “Well, that’s one way of putting it. Ran into ‘em the first time when….” he trails off, not precisely wanting to say, but Volya softens and he knows she understands what he’s not saying, so Poe continues, “and maybe they’d be willing to let a grudge with a sixteen year old go, but with a New Republic Officer? Never.”

“Troublemaker,” Volya says, fondness saturating her tone as much as an undercurrent of desire does. 

“Someone has to be.”

The barrage of laser blasts grows in volume, both in quantity and sound, as Volya surges forward, grabbing Poe by the nape of the neck to pull him in for a kiss. It’s heated and slick, her lips moving against his and it almost feels like she’s teasing him, by starting something neither of them can presently finish.

Her eyes are sparking with mischief when she lets him go. “Shall we show them why you shouldn’t mess with a troublemaker and a Jedi?”

Poe grins. “Don’t have to ask me twice, Spitfire.”

[kissofchrysantheum]

Your writing is pathetic and corny you nazi bitch but what else can be expected from generic black cell freaks try reading the actual books instead of copy pasting wiki you might grow a brain.

Based on your other comment to which I have already responded to I’m going to assume that you refer to my fanfic A mother’s rage on A03. Oh I do so love the fact that you choose to post anonymously on my tumblr than post within my comments on the fanfic, rather curious I suppose. Now I will admit I have no idea what you mean by black cell freak. So I would not mind having it explained to me. I suppose you thought this was going to offend me perhaps? I cannot comprehend why you would write something like this but rest assured I am not offended I do believe myself to be generic and unremarkable and ordinary. It does not offend me to be be called so. There is nothing wrong with being ordinary, I am but a normal uni student with a messed up family who likes to write in their free time when I am not too busy reading my every growing TBR list (both physical books and fanfics).

I have no delusion that I am a remarkable and unique writer. In all honesty I’m terrible with grammar and punctuation as well as spelling. I was hardly the highest scoring English student. You are welcome to find my writing pathetic and corny, that is your write however no one is forcing you to read my writing, as the tags say in my fanfic “do not like, do not read” it is that simple. For the record I have read f & b. Do I sometimes copy and paste things from the wiki yes but when I do I state that I do and I expand on it, many fanfic writers do it helps keep things accurate, F&B is over 700 pages long (at least my copy is) . It would take ages to have to keep going back through it to find the exact quotes I am looking for over and over again. I turn to the wiki because I have a lot in my plate between work, uni, social life and family problems, I do not trust my memory and to assure that the information I am giving out is correct I turn to the wiki.

I wrote the fanfic mostly for me because I wanted a fanfic where Viserra takes down the Hightowers. I continued to write it because some people enjoyed my writing. None of the ideas in the fic portray my personal beliefs. This is stated in the tags. I do not hate the Hightowers however I do think someone like Viserra probably grew up with the idea of Valyrian blood supremacy kind of like how pure blood in Harry Potter do. None of the cruelties inflicted by the characters reflect my personal beliefs nor are they original to the fic they are a common trend in team black fics. Someone’s writing does not reflect their beliefs all the time, this is a fanfic.

I do not hate Alicent, I find her book counterpart rather intriguing. I do not hate the targ tower children. Do I believe Rhaenyra was the rightful heir yes this is a fact she was stated to be the kings heir for over 2 decades and the kings word is law, the widow law also protects her rights. In the books she was actively ruling Dragonstone and had 5 sons, if she was a man there would be no debate about whether or not she was the rightful heir. Do I think Rhaenyra was fit to rule? Well that is up to debate. Neither the greens nor the blacks were innocent in the war.

They all committed atrocities and many innocents died due to the bloodshed they cause, the dragons died out because of both teams selfishness. Luke did not deserve to die, did he cut out aemond’s eye yes but he was a 5 year old child defending his older brother he was scared and not thinking rationally. Did Aemond deserve to have his eye cut out? No no he did not and there should have been some sought if punishment for all the children for fighting. Did Jaehaerys deserve to die for Aemond’s actions no he was an innocent child. What we have to remember is that neither side is black and white they are all grey characters which makes them rather compelling.

Viserra and Vaegon despise the Hightowers in the fanfic yes but that is their pov not mine. The targaryens are said to make great men, idiots and monsters. The Targaryens have committed many atrocities and they are descended from slavers. Aemond burnt down the Riverlands. Daemon slaughtered an innocent 7 year old. There is the whole Rhaenyra Nettles business. There is the mad king. There is maegor killing his nephew among other horrible acts. Their is the conquerors actions. Let us no forget Baelon who in retaliation for his brother’s death burning down an entire fleet “I slew thousands of them but it will not bring him back”. The Targaryens can be horrible people we cannot deny this and my “pathetic” and “corny” fic completely plays into this. They are blood supremacist who believe themselves better than everyone. They seen Otto and Alicent as dirty blooded much like pure bloods saw muggleborns.

They see the 7 as false gods. They truly believe themselves to be above everyone due to their Valyrian looks, blood and dragons. They are truly awful people but they are also human. In the fic Viserra’s dislike of the the Hightowers come not solely from their blood, it comes from the fact that they have been seeking to kill the dragons (this fic plays into the maester conspiracy and in this fic the Hightowers helped kill several of Viserra’s siblings), it comes from the fact that the mourning period for her niece was foregone in favour of Viserys marrying Alicent. Viserra is insulted he did not wait the proper amount of time before remarrying. She thinks the Hightowers are overarching and power hungry. Is Viserra correct in canon who knows?

But this is a fanfic, an au, a canon divergence. It is not canon meaning it does not play by the same rules which mean every can have their own interpretations. Some of Alicent’s treatment was inspired by an outsider among Targaryens by phantom248. Who thinks it would make sense that the Targaryens would treat the faith of seven as the Romans did with Christianity. I find it interesting so I played into it as I also did with hp and pure bloods relationship with muggleborns. The occurrences are horrible and I would never wish the thinks I write in the fanfic on a real person. The Targaryens are horrible, vengeful people in the fic. They are extreme blood purists. And this fic does incorporate some of the worst and extremes in team green bashing fics (e.g Alicent being poisoned so she miscarriage). This is something that I would never wish on a real person, it is why I tagged my fics so specifically so people would know not read it if it bothered them. We must seperate fiction from real life.

Have a wonderful week and please do mind the language you use. Remember dear if you have nothing nice to say do not say it. You are welcomed to call me a bitch if you would like. It hardly bothers me as where I am from the word bitch is thrown around so freely. I use it with my friends and my coworkers and acquaintances, it is just how it is where I am from however I would appreciate if you did not use the word nazi so freely. All I did was write a fanfic of which is very clearly stated in no way reflects my personal beliefs. The nazis on the other hand were truly horrible people who committed a genocide and are thought to have murdered over 17 million people.

[unknownjpegs]

claustrophobia

“Starting to think you have a claustrophobia kink, or something.”

Xavier’s lips are pressed up to Benji’s throat so he can feel the vibration of his words and it’s enough to make him feel like a dog sniffing out a treat—unleashed and a little fucking feral about it. His teeth pinch the other man’s skin a little, earn him a sound that’s close to a whimper before Benji manages to wrangle it in. The soldier’s hand winds into Xavier’s dark red hair, shoves his head backward until it’s ground against the shitty leather seat of the car. The backseat is not spacious enough for someone as long as Xavier—nor is it spacious enough for someone as stocky and thickly built as Benji.

But, when you’re a criminal, trying to wrestle out spare time with one of those good SAS boys, you really can’t pick and choose the place. And tinted windows are helpful, unless some bully comes across the parked car and wants to instigate a ticket. Which case, Xavier does have a crowbar underneath the backseat. Not above using it to scare off the police; one more broken law under his belt.

Besides, that just means Benji has to be on top of him and they have to be pressed together in ways that aren’t entirely comfortable. He’s got a belt buckle pressed into the back of his spine and Benji’s leg is half crooked, his other folded around Xavier’s leg. It’s a mess of them both, but he wasn’t regretting all but kidnapping the man into the back of the car.

“You look stupid hot in your uniform,” is how Xavier chooses to reply, because he doesn’t want to think that maybe he does have a thing for tiny enclosed spaces. Or just has them for when Benji is involved. Because their bodies are warm together, he can smell the other man and it makes his chest expand in a way that hurts. Also, he’s hard as a fucking rock, but ignoring that. “Like, duh. I’ve been around military guys my whole life—but, man, you wear these pants real fuckin’ well.”

He punctuates it by squeezing Benji’s muscular thighs.

“Yeah? And I got a cramp in my leg that’s making me murderous, man. So if we doin’ somethin’, let’s have it.”

Xavier feels confused for a moment, looking at Benji hunched over him. His dog tags have slipped over from his military issue shirt, swinging a little. They’re different looking from Shadow tags—because of course Graves would get them their own cute, special ones, keep them all separated from the pack. He wants to yank Benji down by them, but instead, he pushes the tags up and back into his shirt. The soft feel of his fingertips on that barest hint of skin is enough to make a little firework go off inside Xavier’s lower stomach. He pats the other man’s side happily.

“Your accent’s cute.”

“Xavier, Christ—”

“Dude, I have you in the backseat of a car—I’m really not trying to fuck right now—”

Benji’s weight adjusts enough to make Xavier see stars again, that grinding sensation pushing his own tactical belt harder into his hips. He has to bite off a sound that would be half pained and half, really, really, really not pained.

“Then what’re you doing?”

“Move,” Xavier grunts, hands on Benji’s side and trying to manipulate their bodies.

“Piss off, you’re too big—Don’t grin like that. I didn’t mean your co—Wanker, you’re—Ow—Xavier.”

Benji is seething out his words by the time Xavier manages to get on top of him. He’s panting with the exertion it took to move them both, but his face is proudly lit up now that he’s maneuvered himself to look down at the combat medic. One of his legs is fallen into the footed area of the backseat, the other hitched up a little, but firmly on Benji’s side. He looks flushed and pretty and Xavier’s hand takes his chin, full palm and fingers holding him in one giant grip.

When he kisses him, it’s the same as their first kiss, just with a lot less blood. Still maybe, too much tongue. He can feel either of their facial hair making burns across their skin, he can feel the movement of Benji’s entire body up against him. He can taste the man, and it makes him feel that much more tight and wound up and almost angry. Xavier kisses harder, feels Benji’s hand wind back into his hair. Feels the scratch of his blunt fingernails and it makes Xavier unhitch, lean back and sigh out a sound that has Benji’s facial expression looking obscene.

“Why’d you yank me in ‘ere if we’re not…” Benji’s words trail off, his throat bobbing with a swallow. Xavier’s lips feel tingly from how hard they’d been pressed to his mouth.

“Sometimes, when I look at you,” Xavier starts, hand trailing over Benji’s chest. “You, this good boy soldier, with all your good boy soldier buddies. Man,” he leans in, grinds his cheek against Benji’s, grinds his full body down on him. He huffs out and then breathes in deeply the smell of Benji. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s like—Man, I wanna fuck you.”

“Look, no offense, mate—I’d be doin’ the fucking. Like, look at you. You’re asking for it all the time, practically.” And it makes Xavier laugh, makes his teeth bite into Benji’s cheek, which makes Benji’s hand slap down hard on Xavier’s thigh—probably aiming for his ass, but they’re all wonky, crunched up against each other in the weirdest of positions. Still makes Xavier’s hips buck forward, their tac’d geared bodies hard together.

“No one’s fucking anyone,” Xavier says, wrapping hands around Benji’s wrists and pinning them up against the back seat window. He’s shocked that Benji doesn’t immediately rip out the grip—the man’s strong. Real strong and Xavier knows it. Is very fond of how strong he is, but Benji’s looking up at him, like he’s curious, but like he’s also—nah. Not afraid. But, something else is there. Worry? Suspicion?

Xavier lets a wrist go to slide his arm up under Benji’s shoulders and grunts when he gets them both close again.

“Ignore my boner.”

“I’m trying, mate. Trust me. I am trying.”

Then Xavier kisses him again, his fingers tightening around Benji’s wrist, his thumb pressing against the pulse point. He kisses him until both of them are struggling to breathe and then he parts just to kiss him again.

“Like, all I could think of, watching you, was how bad you needed a fucking hug.” Xavier’s chest is tight to Benji’s, so he can feel the way the medic flinches, shudders full body. Probably has to do with the belt buckle Xavier knows was just shoved into his own tail bone. “Man, it’s crazy how bad I just want to—Dude, I could squeeze you till you fuckin’ snapped in my arms. I mean, not literally. You’re like, very broad. Very muscular. But you get it right?”

“It’s hot when you ramble, Xavier, but real hard to follow the plot when you’re drooling.”

“I’m drooling?” He quickly swipes a hand over his mouth, cheeks dark and red. “Anyway, let me get to the point. You ever look at someone and instantly want—not like want to fuck them? Right? But want,” he tilts his head and looks at Benji and really looks at him. Scruffy, tired looking, worn at the edges and frayed about. Xavier’s thumb digs into his wrist again, makes Benji’s brows pinch harder, his lips part to speak again. “Like just a hug? Right? You get that, right?”

The car windows have fogged because of all their heavy breathing. And Xavier’s leg is quickly going numb. He feels a nervous sensation in his stomach, a weird fluttering—that has nothing to do with the semi half hard on he has pressed against Benji’s thigh.

“Yeah,” is how the medic replies, after a long stretch of silence. His words pop a bubble and Xavier falls back down on him.

“Jesus, never make me explain myself again. That was like the most I’ve strung a thought together in a month. And it didn’t even include explosives; which are the more fun things I get to do as a criminal—”

“Look, merc, let’s keep kissin’ alright? I got to rendezvous with SAS eventually.”

Xavier rises up from where he’d laid his head on Benji’s chest and he pretends not to see an extra emotion on the mans face when they kiss again. Pretends not to notice how much softer and supple his body is against him. Pretends that it doesn't make Xavier’s chest hurt to think about it; that Benji might have had someone not content enough with a stolen fucking kiss in the back of shitty car, limbs getting sore and cranky from being shoved together like this.

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

Continuity and Tonal Shifts in Season Ten

This is gonna be a really long meta describing some of my frustrations with the current writing decisions. I'm approaching these as someone who loves the show and wants it to succeed, and I'm not making any sweeping "the show is problematic" or "the writers are bad" statements, just that the writing decisions lately have been poor in my opinion and I need to express my thoughts on that.

So as a lot of people may or may not know, Fink and Cranor alternate writing episodes, and according to Patreon, they have minimal communication about what is going to happen in the next episode, giving the other relative creative freedom. This often works when the style of Night Vale is random, disjointed, and with a lot of left-field plot devices, but with this current plot line so grounded in literal stuff and reality, it is SO FRUSTRATING. Especially because Fink mentioned in a patreon post that he only backreads the past five episodes to maintain continuity - something that clearly does not work when your show is over 230 episodes long, has had tons of live shows, and expanded into three books. I feel like the last three episodes have had a very off-putting disconnect, and that makes this writing decision REALLY REALLY OBVIOUS in a glaring can't-overlook-it-anymore way.

There's no way to know which writer wrote which episode, but we'll say "odd writer" and "even writer" for continuity's sake. I have my personal opinion about which writer wrote what, but I don't want to share that here. It could be that Fink is odd writer and Cranor is even writer, or it could be the other way around, but what matters is that odd writer and even writer didn't communicate.

227, written by odd writer: Blake lures Cecil away with a made-up sob story and Cecil departs the station. Lubelle comes to the radio station and gives a long speech about Night Vale, condescends about Cecil's hold over the town, explains away the weather, says outright that she's taking over, and leaves with the ominous "show over, Night Vale, show over" closing tag. What's going to happen? Find out in two weeks!

228, written by even writer: Actually she just briefly broke into the radio station and left without a struggle and Blake was just tricking Cecil and let him go, and now Cecil is back and Lubelle hasn't taken over anything yet, nor kidnapped him. But science is going to be made illegal to stop Dr. Lubelle and the Univeristy, and that will really mess with Carlos! What's going to happen? Find out in two weeks!

229, written by odd writer: Science is illegal but the University decided to just straight up ignore it and continue with all of their stuff using a bunch of technical work-arounds and sheer numbers to overwhelm the town, so it doesn't really affect anyone other than Carlos, who by the way is barely in an episode that's supposed to be about his struggles. Anyway, Lubelle brought all of her faculty into town, so that's probably bad. What will they do? Find out in two weeks!

It's starting to feel like we're reliving the Star Wars sequel trilogy, except there's two JJ Abrams and neither of them is talking to each other. Every episode ends on this intense buildup and then it immediately fizzles away at the start of the next one. It's like getting edged by someone who keeps pulling their hand away so they can go on their phone and type "actually everything is fine now" before they get back to it.

There's one other thing I want to mention about this odd writer/even writer dilemma, which is episode 225. This was an odd writer episode, and in it, Lubelle asks Cecil to come down to the University for some "tests", an offer that he finds very offensive, but one that's punctuated by Dr. Jones snickering that Station Management has been explained away. It really feels like odd writer is trying to set up plotline where the University becomes interested in Cecil, whether that's for his connection to the town or his relationship with Carlos, and even writer just does not want to let that happen.

There's even a bit of a tonal shift, where odd writer paints Dr. Jones as cunning, "Couldn't be station management. They don't even exist. They've been, well... they've been explained." (episode 225) "Looks like Blake succeeded in tricking that fool away from his mic," (episode 227) and then even writer does an about-face and makes him cowardly instead, forcing odd writer to go along with that characterization; so odd writer decides to just write him out of the story without really doing anything.

The lack of communication between the two writers is becoming more and more obvious, and for the fans, more and more frustrating. There are also so many great fan-assembled resources that demonstrate every episode a character or plot point has appeared in, so I feel like it shouldn't be that hard for the writers to find their own system of continuity - or hell, just borrow ours and then throw in a "extra thank to the contributors of the Night Vale wikia" in the credits or something. You guys do this for a living! Is it so much to ask if we'd like you to be good at it?

[sparkles-and-trash]

I honestly just want more of your headcanons for mha if you have them? :3

note: I have this note on my phone with all my random mha headcanons that's like, a mess of characters and plots, so it might be a bit all over the place, but here we go! tw: canon typical violence, scarring, burns etc for Dabi

Shoto is totally the type to sign his texts like "friendly regards, Shoto Todoroki", and uses super appropriate punctuation and stuff, but he also uses all the overly expressive smileys ( :3 xD UwU :c ^u^ etc) because Izuku does it, and Izuku is the first friend Shoto texted, so he thinks this is normal

and nobody has the heart to tell him otherwise

Denki having adhd is one of my favorites, I've already mentioned this, but it's kinda important to me, lol

I also love to think that Denki is a super supportive friend, and that he genuinely cares for everyone in his class, and knows them all really well, he's just a person that's so genuine and caring, it makes it very easy to open up to him!

okay Shinso and Denki are gamer boyfriends, they can sit together in the dark on their gaming computers and talk to each other on discord for hours and call it quality time

I think the burns under Dabi’s eyes were on purpose, or, at first he tried to wipe his tears when he was upset, much like what happened with Kirishima, but when he realized he couldn't cry from that eye after, he did it again to the other one so he wouldn’t cry in front of his dad and show weakness

I 100% think Hawks molts every now and then, and it makes Dabi sneeze like a motherfugger

When they were kids, Izuku worried that Bakugo's explosions would make him lose his hearing, and while it hasn't yet, he still worries about it and keeps up with the basic stuff, just in case

Bakugo realizes it one day when he catches Izuku practicing, and seeing his childhood friend sitting there trying to perfect this thing for him, just in case, with his weary and crooked hands, something just... hits him

He asks Izuku to teach him too, and once, when he's working as a pro years later, he once uses it to help a deaf child in a hostage situation, and he calls Izuku the second he has the chance to tell him all about it

Izuku cries and Bakugo pretends he doesn't hear it lmao

I think Eri loves Momo and Jirou, she thinks they’re sooo cool!

They become a safe place for her as she grows up, some older girls to ask about all sort of different stuff Aizawa and Mic might not be able to understand or relate to

oh, and Deku and Eri stays tight forever, to the point where she starts to refer to him as her brother

He gives her away at her wedding BYE I'M GONNA CRY -

If we're in the upheaval verse or any other scenario where Dabi and Shoto reconnect, I think they would realize they're more similar than they ever knew

Esp Dabi, who had Shoto built up as this perfect, glossy Endeavour 2.0 in his head for so long, only for him to realize Shoto is just the most socially awkward kid who also hates Endeavour

Shoto thinks any time they spend together is great quality time, and Dabi is just so taken aback by it lmao

Dabi loses his mind a little at Shoto's fashion sense tho, Dabi loves to be extra, as we already know, and Shoto's little cardigans and polo's and mom-fashion makes him wanna shake some edge into him

Okay, but imagine the same with Hawks and Tokoyami, but kinda the other way around

Hawks isn't exactly a fashion icon, but after he's released escapes from the commission (leave me alone it happens in my version of things), he starts to realize he enjoys expressing himself with clothes

He asks Tokoyami for ideas and stuff since he likes how edgy and personal Tokoyami looks

Tokoyami literally just wears black tho, so he's not much help, but he's willing to try

Hawks ends up wearing shit that looks like the pastel grunge/goth tag from Tumblr in 2012 lmao

But he's happy so who cares, right?

(Dabi cares, but he tries really heard not to say anything)

I also just think Hawks wanna be friendly with Tokoyami so badly, like, bond outside of work? Talk about school and friends and stuff?

And Tokoyami doesn't understand that's what he's doing because Hawks is so bad at candid social stuff because that's not really something you can train for, yanno?

So he thinks Hawks just wants information, like when they first met, and Hawks is like... so lost lmao

I know they're not friends in canon, but I looove Mirko and Hawks as besties

I just think she'd be great at taking care of Hawks and teaching him social skills and stuff without being condescending

Dabi would do it, but he's just as bad as Hawks and doesn't wanna learn anyway lmao

Okay and finally, Shoto totally used to have a crush on Hawks

Just a distant school boy crush, and it ended years ago, but he still thinks it's a little weird when Hawks and Dabi starts dating at first lol

Shoto would totally tell him in front of both Dabi and Izuku (Shoto's boyfriend) lmao

"You know Hawks, it is a little funny that we are here now, as you were my first crush, and sort of made me realize I was gay, and now here we are and you are dating my brother who we used to think was dead haha :-)"

And Hawks is just like... ʘ‿ʘ

Izuku is blushing so hard he almost passes out lmao

Dabi finds it all fucking hilarious of course

bnha requests are open <3

[altschmerzes]

First Sentences Game!

tagged by @disappearinginq (thank youuuu!!!)

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

putting the rest of this under a cut so it’s not a huge long post! decided to take a leaf out of disappearinginq’s book and use only WIPs that haven’t been posted yet so >:) enjoy. we got 4 ted lasso fics, 2 9-1-1 fics, 2 locked tomb fics, 1 now you see me fic, 1 flashpoint fic, and 1 ffxv fic. yes that adds up to 11. it’s a surprise.

i have included the opening...... Couple Of Paragraphs. Or for these lmao because as always with me, i cannot help it and it is longer than intended.

tagging some folks up front no pressure but if you want an excuse to share your stories or brag on yourself this is your cue. i dont think it matters if it’s posted fics or wips - @heavensenthale @appalachianapologies @bold-and-nosy @nativestarwrites @impossiblepluto @roguelibrarian (and anyone compelled to do this who can go ahead and take this as a sign to say i tagged you and Do It)

1. Love Stuck - ted lasso

the aromantic jamie tartt fic. jamie realizes he’s aro, and this becomes a study of his and keeley’s post-breakup friendship and how aromanticism can open doors and allow for more freedom and personal choice in relationships for non-aro people too.

The only warning that Keeley gets before Jamie shows up at her house is a text message that she knows he sent by voice-to-text because of its use of capital letters and the complete lack of emojis. It announces his imminent arrival and apologizes for the lack of warning, explaining that he forgot to do that until he was almost there, all in one long, run-on sentence without punctuation. She has just enough time to grab a cardigan, because she’d been getting kind of chilly anyway, and pause the episode of Sex and the City she had been watching before he’s ringing the doorbell.

When Keeley opens the door, Jamie bypasses any kind of perhaps typically-expected greeting. While this isn’t exactly unusual for him, what he says is.

“I’ve got great news,” he tells her, smiling like he really does have great news, which helps to somewhat offset the sense of foreboding she’d been starting to feel. “I am not in love with you. Can I come in?”

2. Wriggle Up On Dry Land - ted lasso

au where everything is pretty much the same except for the part where jamie is the fifteen year old groundskeeper’s assistant who works part-time at nelson road. proceeds approximately through the timelines/events of seasons 1 and 2 (and maybe 3 depending on how that goes).

At this point, Ted has been in England for less than forty-eight hours, he’s slept for somehow both too many and not enough of those hours, and people keep saying things to him that are ostensibly in English but have no coherent meaning he can wring from his exhausted, jet lagged brain. This, he thinks, is a reasonable explanation for why it takes him several moments to process what he’s seeing when he reaches the coaching office.

One hand loosely gripping the strap of his backpack, the other holding out his keys in preparation to unlock the office, Ted stands there for a long time and blinks. The office does not need unlocking, it turns out, because the door is already open. The door is already open, and there’s what appears to be a kid crouching next to it, doing… something to the lowest hinge with a screwdriver. The boy glances up when Ted approaches, but makes no direct acknowledgement of him and goes immediately back to whatever he’s doing with the tool.

Now. On the one hand, this is a teenager Ted has never seen before and he is messing with the door of the head coaching office. That feels like bad news. On the other hand, he is wearing a grey zippered jacket with the Richmond logo on one lapel and STAFF embroidered underneath it in cursive. That, and his non-reaction to Ted catching him mid-potential-mischief, seems to indicate maybe this whole situation is above board after all.

“Uh,” Ted says after the silent pause has gone on long enough that he officially feels like he’s being rude. “Good morning?”

3. the bus curse 5+1 - ted lasso

Five Times The Curse Of The AFC Richmond Away Game Post-Game Bus Ride Home (Mostly Referred To Simply As 'The Bus Curse' For Conservation Of Time) Ruined The Night And One Time It Tried To But Couldn’t. tl;dr bus is haunted (roy voice It Is Not) (for fun and profit the chapter titles for this are ‘twitter’ ‘illness’ ‘the heavy existential burden of captaincy’ ‘nightmare’ ‘injury’ and ‘double birthday’)

The most important thing to understand about The Curse Of The AFC Richmond Away Game Post-Game Bus Ride Home (mostly referred to as ‘the bus curse’ for conservation of time) is that it doesn’t fucking exist.

Roy is fully ready and willing to die on this hill and go to his grave still swearing up and down that the ‘curse’ is superstitious bullshit, just like the one on the training room. Sure, he’s experienced two flat tires and a radiator overheating on the way home with Richmond, which never happened with any previous team, but that’s probably because management always hired the cheapest charter possible. Sure, the driver once stopped off for petrol and simply never came back from inside the station, but that’s because the bloke apparently had some kind of epiphany and decided to radically change his life, not because of the bus itself. Sure, there have been some dozen-odd other assortment of events ranging from inconveniences to calamities that have disrupted specifically the return bus journey from away matches, but there are explanations for all of them, none of which involve any kind of curse.

4. Never Been In Love - 9-1-1

the aromantic evan buckley fic. buck has a very rocky time coming to terms with being aro, and then telling everyone about it. ft internalized arophobia, romance repulsion, found family, the power of queer friendship, and the way the episode with red the retired firefighter was the perfect set-up for an aro character realization but of course they’d never go there.

The thing about dates is that, theoretically, at some point they are supposed to go well. And it’s not like Buck’s never been on dates that he has fun on. He has! A lot of them, actually! He’s a people person, he always has been, he likes spending time around others and spending time one-on-one is extra nice - it feels nice to bask in the attention and to focus his attention solely on someone else for a while. However, there always comes a point where the woman Buck is out with starts blatantly flirting and he knows he needs to flirt back, or he just… remembers that he’s out on a date and not just hanging out with a cool person he wants to get to know better, and it all goes sour.

The end of it is, even when Buck’s dates go well, they don’t. The mere fact that they’re dates is enough to thoroughly ruin the experience, either in the moment or in hindsight, particularly once there’s an expectation that there are going to be more dates and, at some point, a relationship. And that… Buck really just doesn’t know what to do with that.

5. One-Way Mirror - now you see me

oneshot set between movies 1 and 2 that gets at explaining some of the shifts in character dynamics and digs into what it would be like for dylan to mesh with the team when they were already a team and he was on the outside. lot of focus on what happened to create such a faith in him from jack specifically.

The nice thing about setting yourself up to look like the lawman who got duped by a team of criminals just a little too smart for him is that, when you announce your intention to take a sabbatical, nobody really asks too many questions. Dylan must have played his role effectively, because not an eyelid is bat when the Agent who got too invested in fugitives that ultimately eluded him decides to take off for a while. He has the leave accrued, it’s a matter of putting in the paperwork. Fuller is a little concerned but Evans waves it through with barely a thought. Cowan swans around the office dripping smug satisfaction, and Dylan keeps his head down and swallows it.

He goes to France to visit Alma first. While things are still white-hot in the fallout of the case, the Horsemen are laying low in the area. They’ll take off for a house the Eye has arranged soon enough, but in the handful of days intervening Dylan gets on a plane to Paris. Alma deserves some answers after everything she went through on this case with him, and if it means he’s going to get arrested after all, well, so be it. The others are set up, they’ll be okay.

6. untitled fic about mercymorn and augustine in a doc labeled ‘rotates them’ - the locked tomb series

this is simply me losing my mind about this dynamic, getting somewhat at how they came up with the plan they attempted to enact in ht9.

“Do you love your brother?”

Augustine stops in his tracks, facing away from her. His body twitches in a horrid, disarticulated little spasm, like a marionette that’s been electrocuted. The question has hurt him, and she can tell.

Good, Mercymorn thinks. Pain sharpens the senses.

“How dare you ask me that.”

Mercymorn does not back down. For one thing, she does not, as a rule, back down. Ever. For another, she’d caught up to him here and brought up the subject for a reason, and it isn’t just to torment him with it.

7. One Right Move - flashpoint

time loop of the episode one wrong move where lou young died. spike relives his best friend’s death over and over and over until he can figure out how to make it stop.

This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends.

This is the way the worst day of Michaelangelo Scarlatti’s life ends - not with a bang, but with the echo of one.

Explosions have not been an unusual occurrence in Spike’s world to date. Moments of ground-shaking thunder and fire have come and gone for him the way a lawyer conducts depositions or a surgeon draws a dotted line indicating where they plan to cut - something that is an incomprehensible oddity to those outside the profession, but as familiar as the tree on the corner of the street you drive down every day to those inside it. While the detonation of a bomb may be the worst or most shocking thing to happen in the life of just about any random person you grabbed off the street, it’s Tuesday for Spike. Even when they go bad, they still ultimately go. He doesn’t spend hours reliving them after the smoke has cleared.

This time, he does. Laying on his side on the couch in Greg’s living room, the moment that mine went off replays again and again. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if he’s imagining it or if something is still actually exploding, because Spike can still feel himself shaking from the percussive force. Or maybe shaking from something else. It’s hard to tell, now, in this diluted, slipping evening that doesn’t feel remotely real.

8. Can’t Grow A Proper Branch - 9-1-1

5+1 of five times someone got one of the pieces indicating that buck’s childhood and family were Really Fucking Bad and one time he just straight out told someone.

Man plans and God laughs.

When Bobby was growing up, the Nash family’s next door neighbor had been a Rabbi and his wife whose older daughter had been his age. Often, when his parents were working late, Bobby would end up at the Rose house, playing with Sarah Rose or doing homework with her at the kitchen table under Rabbi Rose’s quiet supervision. Man plans and God laughs. A Yiddish proverb Rabbi Rose had been fond of. Even though it’s been decades since he’d lived in the house in St. Paul next door to the Roses, decades since he’d last spoken to the man at all, the phrase he’d used so often still pops into Bobby’s head sometimes. It even makes its way out of his mouth now and then.

From the moment they meet, it feels to Bobby like Evan Buckley is God laughing at his plans.

9. Game Over. Try Again? - final fantasy xv

the first time noctis had to use a phoenix down on each of his friends. exploring game resurrection mechanics from a narrative standpoint.

Gladio has been twenty years old for all of nine days when he dies in an assassination attempt that leaves Noctis without a scratch. It all happens so quickly that there’s no time to feel the energy in the air change before the shooting starts.

A second before the first bullet shatters what had been a perfectly fine, unremarkable afternoon, Gladio’s hand closes around Noctis’s arm, the other plants in the square centre of his back, and he’s being shoved so hard it propels him several feet forward. He’s all ready to be pissed, to whirl around and demand that the big dumb bastard explain what, precisely, his issue is when a chunk of concrete explodes from the waist-high wall he’s landed behind. Noctis isn’t really sure what he thinks is happening at first, but ‘someone is shooting bullets at me because they are trying very hard to kill me’ is not it.

10. baby heist au - ted lasso

the one where bex decides to leave rupert, rebecca decides to help her, an extremely unlikely friendship forms, and i cast spell of ‘hold a baby’ on the entire richmond greyhounds roster.

The first thing that enters Rebecca’s mind when she gets the initial message is suspicion. She stares at her mobile, squinting at the text from the number - unattached to anyone in her address book - and trying to piece together who it could possibly be from.

Hello Rebecca. I was wondering if you might have time for a coffee and a chat soon. I have something I’d really like to discuss with you.

It came through just as she was walking to her desk upon first arriving at the office, and caught her so off-guard that she’s still standing there in the middle of the room looking at the screen when the second message arrives.

Oh, this is Bex by the way. Bex Harper.

A third, not a moment later.

Well. Bex Mannion I guess.

bonus 11. baby heist au 2: 2 heist, 2 baby - the locked tomb series

modern au (i know, but bear with me) where it’s like pov. you are ortus nigenad. you are in your very early twenties. you have come to the unfortunate realization that you are in a cult and you have Fucking Snapped and you cannot be here one more moment longer. on your way out, you decided to take a pair of toddlers with you. pov. you are abigail pent. you are a professor and you live with your husband in the top floor of a duplex. a young man with a pair of little girls just moved in downstairs, and you’ve got the feeling there’s something Going On with them.

The bottom unit of the building has been empty since before Abigail moved into the upstairs of the duplex on Primis Street. She’s never met the person who owns it, and so there has never been an opportunity to ask after this curiosity, despite her desire to know if there was a reason for it. Magnus tells her that it’s probably just not a keenly desired neighbourhood, especially for the university demographic comprising most of their area, but still she has always wondered.

When someone does move into it, Abigail doesn’t notice at first. It’s such a shock the first time she hears a sound and looks out of her unit just in time to see the downstairs door close behind someone that she nearly calls after him on the spot. She manages to repress the instinct, but she calls Magnus immediately upon going back inside.

“What? Since when?” he asks when Abigail tells him they’ve finally got neighbours.

“I haven’t the faintest idea! I just saw him coming home. Didn’t see much, just the door closing behind him, but I think he’s young. There’s not even a car out front! It’s all quite mysterious.”

Things do not clear up from there, especially not once Abigail catches her first glimpse of the children.

[tysonfurybattlepass]

I understand I already yelled a little in the tags under your most recent art, but I feel the need to yell still. Spades is 10 feet tall or larger. Massive. Curled up on the throne like this, in an empty space, he looks average sized or even small. His face is contorted into a scowl, but there's an element of something else there, an element of pain, sadness perhaps? As deadbeatdadjokes pointed out, he still keeps hold of the crown, even when he's trying to rest. Of course the throne is torn. The throne is torn apart. His life is torn apart. He can't escape from this even when he's trying to rest. His hatred follows him everywhere, constantly. As you said, he needs a melatonin to forget about his war crimes for a few hours. The only time he's peaceful.

Yeah, your art put me in a mood I just had to give you this mess and I am supposed to be asleep right now but I am not 😎

I AM HOLDING YOU SO GENTLY IN MY HANDS LIKE A BABY BIRD RIGHT NOW.

while i absolutely love hearing other people’s interpretations of what’s going on in my work, the emotion i drew into this image on purpose is fear.

i think what really captures me about this abhorrent character is the inherent and oxymoronic fragility of his position at the top of the food chain. apex predator is not an easy title to maintain for any significant period of time.

he is such a control freak to an unsustainable extent and so, so obsessed, he’ll gladly poison or trample everything and everyone around him with his own corrosive drive toward revenge until there’s nothing left. he knows everyone wants him gone. he knows theyre waiting for an opportunity to reenact that scene from lion king where the hyenas eat scar alive. his paranoia is deep set and destructive, but not necessarily unwarranted. he is alone, in constant danger, surrounded by people who want him dead, and it’s 100% his own fault.

this isnt the only instance of tragic irony the character represents. like spamton, king spade’s story is punctuated by an inability to break out of the role laid out for him by the narrative. he is a darkner, created and sustained only to act as a device for the advancement and entertainment of lightners. he’s one of the few darkners that actively fights against this admittedly pretty fucked up class system, and only due to some likely immense religious trauma associated with being left alone in the dark by an uncaring god that didnt even know he existed.

but, by rebuking the lightners he has merely colored his obsession with them differently, only succeeding in swapping religious adoration for seething acidic malice. even as he thrashes against the chains of predestiny and tries to flip the script, his identity is still fundamentally tied to the lightners he’s trying so hard to wrench free from. he does not see the issue with this because he is stupid<3

he also does not see the issue with being an insufferable prick to everybody around him for the sake of The Cause. he is well aware of the risks, and no doubt hardly sleeps more than an hour or two a night due to the constant threat of being fucking assassinated, but i think he thinks himself smart enough to weasel his way out of (or completely shit stomp) any potential uprising or coup. and he’s right. for a while at least.

fear is a powerful but fleeting motivator, and when it inevitably wears off and the smoke clears and everyone sees that you are alone at the top, you will be eaten by your own dogs.