#i am in the bottom part of a spiral and i do not like where this is going

[captain-oh-no-not-again]

so. coffee is tasty. but it also makes me fear for my life.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hiya! Hope you’re havin a good day! Adore your writing, so mayhaps I can make a humble request of ye?

I was thinking, top hero x bottom villain where the villain is big n kinda scary — they’re silent, cold, intimidating, all that jazz — but then the hero accidentally does something intimate (like, maybe they kiss them, or the two get in a ✨ scandalous position ✨) and they’re a bit worried about how the other is gonna react. Then it’s revealed the “big bad” villain is just a shy, sweet, needy little thing, who begs them to finish what they started >////< Cue the hero taking full advantage, hehe ;)

Generous helping of da spicy, thank you! ^^

“I’m supposed to be married tonight.”

“Oh?” The hero grabbed the villain’s hand and turned it around as they studied the golden ring. “I wasn’t invited to the wedding? What a shame.”

Although their voice was drenched in fake annoyance, they grinned mercilessly at the villain. The villain who was all dressed up, basically embed in filthy rich clothes. The villain who was as observant as ever.

The villain who’d probably get their hands dirty later.

Although the hero was fully aware that their nemesis was stalking their prey before they bit down into bone, it was probably better for everyone involved if the villain spent more time with their nemesis.

The hero had always considered it a curse. The villain took what they wanted and they always prioritised their own plans. They were, in some sense, the most hard-working person the hero knew.

“You know there was no wedding,” the villain said, lowering their voice. “Nonetheless, you should keep your distance.”

“Why on earth would you think that I am going to sabotage your marriage?” The hero took another step closer and let their fingertips ghost over the villain’s wrists. Their eyes were fixed on the ring.

Admittedly, they felt some kind of possessiveness deep in their stomach.

True love was something they couldn’t afford and they caught themselves being jealous of married couples quite often.

Nevertheless, they pulled themselves out of that thought spiral and flashed a grin at the villain.

“I’m not married,” the villain hissed. Their ears were red. How adorable.

“You just told me you are.”

“Fucking—” The villain took in a deep breath and grabbed the hero’s arm. Without giving themselves a second chance to think about it, they pulled the hero away from all the people who were already staring at them. They managed to find some quiet and dark corner, far away from the crowd at the exhibition. “—you know that’s part of my plan.”

“Oh, so you got married for a plan?” Was the hero playing with fire? Undoubtedly. Did they like the thrill of it? Of course they did.

The exhibition was something the hero attended voluntarily. Most of the time, art provoked other people or even connected them. The hero didn’t like the idea of mainly rich people doing their business in a museum.

So, meeting the villain here was a fresh relief. Their sweet, sweet villain who loved to punch answers out of people.

The hero knew they still had a bunch of work in front of them.

“Do you want me to spell it for you?” The villain looked down at them and the hero had to admit it. Their nemesis was scary. They looked scary. With a stern look and a terrifyingly strong body, they made the hero feel weaker than they actually were.

But at the same time, the hero felt protected by them. They’d been through too much bullshit together. They’d saved each other too many times.

“Explain it,” the hero whispered.

The villain looked around, grumpy as always. A scary frown on their forehead. The hero loved to rile them up a little, especially when the villain was the jealous sort of type that wanted the hero to know they were available.

Obviously the villain didn’t know they were that type of person yet. But the hero did.

“I am supposed to be married to the other villain tonight. As a cover. It would probably be best if you didn't interfere. They do get quite angry.”

“Would you just stand there and watch? If they found out I was having a little fun with you?” The hero turned away from them and stared at the exhibition from afar. The paintings and sculptures were striking. No wonder they were so popular.

“What? Of course not,” the villain said. Something in their voice had changed. “I know you can take care of yourself, though.”

“Hm.” The hero leaned back, pressing their body against the villain’s and to their surprise, their nemesis let out something like a laugh or sigh and grabbed their waist.

“What are you doing?” they whispered in the hero’s ear. They sounded quite helpless and the hero only smiled as they pressed their back against the villain’s chest. Maybe it was cruel of them to tease the villain like this. Maybe it was mean to push their hips against theirs.

But the wedding ring was bothering the hero quite a bit, even though it was fake.

“Oh, you know…” The hero grabbed the villain’s left hand, found the ring and pulled it off their finger. “I’m just making sure you know whom you belong to.”

They turned their head to kiss the villain’s jawline.

“You…” the villain whispered. They seemed utterly desperate and the hero couldn’t for the life of them explain why.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been with anyone before, hm?” the hero asked. They let their breath ghost over their enemy’s neck and the villain froze.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

“Something very vulnerable?” the villain asked. Now it was the hero’s turn to freeze. Immediately, their heart started racing.

Was the villain actually opening up? To them?

After all this time?

Their hand around the hero’s was cold and they did seem quite startled. The hero had to admit, they’d never been this bold before. Touching and flirting with the villain like this was dangerously intimate.

Maybe they’d fucked up.

“Of course,” they said. It felt like they’d been holding their breath for forever. They couldn’t let their own jealousness get in the way of this…relationship.

Despite being unbelievably powerful, the villain was also reasonable. The hero liked them and they didn’t want to make them feel miserable.

“…I’ve been with a bunch of people for the sake of my plans…I actually lost my virginity like that.”

The hero’s eyes widened.

“Because you needed to sleep with someone?!”

“Because I needed information, yeah. Sometimes I’m not sure if I used them or if they used me. I…I did some things I’m not comfortable with to get intel.” The villain was quiet and the hero turned around fully. They wanted to put a little bit of distance between them but the villain’s hands were still on their waist. “That’s why…it’s a little difficult for me, I suppose. But if you really like me and if you would like to and could help me, maybe I…”

“What do you need?” the hero asked. They’d never considered this to be the reason why the villain distanced themselves from everyone.

The villain seemed so huge, so strong, as if they could say no to anything. As if they could never get hurt.

“I need you to continue. I need you to take care of me. I really really like you and I’d like to change.”

The hero hadn’t expected that. They swallowed. This seemed like a lot of responsibility to carry but, honestly, they were used to that by now, weren’t they?

They gave the villain the second keycard to their hotel room.

“Room 241,” they said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Apparently, there was no need to be jealous.

[domm1etae]

Rings of Desire

yunho x mingi

oneshot | mdni

880 words

Yunho gets obsessed with the idea of Mingi jerking him off while still wearing his rings, and when they finally try it, the combination of cool metal and rough hands drives Yunho wild

nsfw tags under

m/m, top mingi, bottom yunho, masturbation, hand kink, rings on

author's note: just a small yungi drabble because GOD DAYUM I LOVE MINGIS HANDS AND HIS RINGS, I AM READY TO RISK IT ALL FOR THAT MAN

Yunho couldn’t stop thinking about Mingi. The thoughts invaded his mind like an obsession, creeping in at the most unexpected times. It wasn’t just Mingi’s presence that occupied Yunho's thoughts—it was his hands. Those big, rough hands, capable of being so gentle yet undeniably strong. Yunho found himself fixated on the idea of those hands wrapped around his cock, imagining how the roughness of Mingi’s calloused skin would feel against his most sensitive parts. But it wasn’t just that. It was the thought of Mingi still wearing his rings while doing it.

Those rings were a part of Mingi, almost as much as the man himself. They adorned his fingers almost every day—silver bands, some smooth and polished, others rugged with intricate designs, and a few with small, dark gems embedded in the metal. The image of Mingi’s rings combined with the texture of his hands became an idea that Yunho couldn’t shake. It was all he thought about, all he fantasized about, to the point where it consumed him.

He would imagine it late at night when he was alone, his thoughts spiraling as he touched himself, but it was never enough. The thought of the cold metal pressing against his heated flesh, the contrast of the silver against his skin, mixed with the warmth and roughness of Mingi’s hand, drove him wild. He craved it, wanted it so badly that it became a nearly unbearable need.

So, when a casual, friendly kiss between them one day turned into something more, Yunho didn’t hesitate. The kiss deepened, their tongues tangling in a way that was both familiar and electrifying. It wasn’t long before the heat between them escalated, their breaths mingling as they pressed closer together. Yunho could feel Mingi’s desire, could sense the urgency in his movements as he started to fumble with Yunho’s zipper, his hands trembling with want.

But just as Mingi started to slip off his rings, out of habit, Yunho’s hand shot out to stop him. His fingers wrapped around Mingi’s wrist, halting his movements. Mingi looked at him in confusion, his brow furrowing. He always took his rings off when they got intimate, a ritual of sorts that was almost second nature to him. But Yunho, his heart pounding in his chest, shook his head and whispered in a voice thick with anticipation, telling Mingi to keep them on.

Mingi stared at him for a moment, searching Yunho’s face for any sign of hesitation. But when he saw the intensity in Yunho’s eyes, the desire practically radiating off him, Mingi just shrugged and nodded, deciding to go with it. He continued to tug at Yunho's pants, pulling them down far enough to expose his aching erection.

When Mingi’s fingers finally wrapped around Yunho’s shaft, the sensation hit him like a freight train. The cold touch of the silver rings, stark against the heat of his skin, combined with the rough, calloused texture of Mingi’s hand, was even better than Yunho had imagined. His breath hitched, his body reacting instantly as he bucked his hips, thrusting into Mingi’s grip, desperate for more of that intoxicating contrast.

Mingi’s hand moved with a steady, confident rhythm, his grip tightening just enough to drive Yunho crazy. Yunho could feel the coolness of the rings sliding along his length, the metal almost biting into his skin with every stroke. And then, there was the sensation of the tiny gems on one of the rings, pressing into his flesh, creating a delicious friction that Yunho had never experienced before. It was almost too much, the sensations overwhelming him as he teetered on the edge of ecstasy.

Yunho’s head spun, his mind going blank as all he could focus on was the feeling of Mingi’s hand, the rings, the roughness, the cold metal. He was completely lost in it, thrusting into Mingi’s hand with a desperate need, chasing that high. And then, just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Mingi tightened his grip even more, and Yunho felt the gems dig into him, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight through him.

That was it. Yunho couldn’t hold back any longer. He came hard, his orgasm ripping through him with a force that left him shaking. For a moment, everything else ceased to exist—there was only the overwhelming pleasure, the feeling of Mingi’s hand, and the cold touch of the rings.

After it was over, they lay together, both catching their breath. Mingi glanced down at his hand, now sticky with Yunho’s release, and clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. He looked at Yunho, a mock scolding in his eyes, and told him off for cumming all over his rings, saying that they might be ruined now.

Yunho, still breathless and completely satisfied, just chuckled softly. He looked at Mingi with a lazy grin and told him not to worry—that he’d buy him new ones if these were ruined, even though they both knew that any new rings would probably meet the same fate. The thought of doing it all over again, with new rings, new sensations, and the same overwhelming pleasure, made Yunho’s heart race with anticipation. It was an experience he was eager to repeat, something that had surpassed even his wildest fantasies.

[tothepointofinsanity]

Observation Log Series: Sayaka [III]

Today on: Visual metaphors for depression and the actual “magic of friendship”.

Images are taken from this Magia Record game video on YouTube.

I am pretty sure someone else in the ages past had already covered this bit, so I suppose I will add this to the archives for my own documentation purpose. Or for just anyone who feels like reading it, really.

Sayaka’s magical girl transformation in this sequence is very interesting. There are a lot of jokes about how she’s yeeted everywhere by the Holy Quintet in her own transformation, so here are the notes:

The beginning of her transformation is shot in the sequence of a downward spiral. Sayaka falls through the hoops and into the ocean as her opening, a reference to her descent into madness (keep in mind: the sea as a metaphor for an inescapable expanse of darkness; the abyss) in the main show, as well as her deteriorating mental health. The spiral drawn to resemble piano keys (🎹) is also no coincidence, but they break apart when Sayaka plummets past them, much like music becoming discordant and incoherent.

Right after that, she gets thrown around respectively by her friends, each of whom gets her to the destination of being fully transformed. What is important to notice is that for the majority of this part, you cannot see Sayaka’s face, and she appears completely indifferent and motionless as others pass her around without hassle. You would think someone like Sayaka, who typically exhibits stubborn tendencies, would be resistant to being literally thrown around, but I feel that there are reasons for this:

• Sayaka being shown not as weightless, but rather as something heavy that makes an impact wherever she goes. She’s literally dead weight in the water despite her Witch being a mermaid. There is no attempt whatsoever we see from her where she tries to swim gracefully or float naturally in the sea. She just seems to be…there, being moved rather than performing her transformation by herself like all the other magical girls.

• The Holy Quintet are the essence of friendship that help Sayaka not necessarily out of her depression, but rather giving her a massive boost by flinging her to the next appropriate person. Given she is portrayed as dead weight, she doesn’t transform manually and do fancy dances, instead heavily reliant on the support of the crew to help her get changed. The sequence where she’s thrown onto the bed and lies there before being flung out again is very reminiscent of the tragedy that individuals struggling with mental health problems can barely get out of bed on their own at times, even to the point where it seems they might never leave said bed. Homura has to pick up Sayaka in a bag before tossing her to Kyoko, where it unfurls and it becomes her cape.

It is also interesting to note that the bed is surrounded by mirrors of all sizes and shapes that don’t reflect Sayaka at all, but rather the oceanic creatures and environment. Her self image is nonexistent and replaced by the sea. When she’s thrown to Kyoko, it is only then she is “stopped”, and we finally get to see her face. Her hair is long, unlike the appearance of her short hair that we are used to. Kyoko helps her with the last part of her transformation by putting on the gold hair pin.

Kyoko being the one to not throw Sayaka but rather casually stop said impact is likely symbolic of their relationship. The ocean is stopped by the unmovable rock.

• In the very last part, Sayaka appears standing on a platform that arises from the sea, and only then she seems fully refreshed and ready to go. Once again, instead of swirling out of the water or something, she needs something solid to stand on and raise her to the surface as she is incapable of doing so herself. Her entire transformation seems to highlight that others need to be on standby to support her, or else she will likely just dwindle and sink motionlessly to the bottom of the ocean. By the way she’s posed, it also seems to imply that she has complete trust in her friends, who were there at every turn to assist her transformation.

Something else I thought about as well is the irony that despite being mermaid coded in terms of her own Witch and backstory, Sayaka is almost always portrayed as a sinking vessel the moment she hits the water. A finless mermaid, yet frustratingly a mermaid that cannot even swim or float. I find that this interpretation would fit into the existing narrative that Sayaka and the Incubators view her as useless or inadequate. What good a mermaid who sinks in the sea? What good a magical girl who needs others to help her transform proper? Noting that Sayaka’s transformation always involves her emerging out of water seems to tell us that she has always pulled her weight out of the abyss by herself.

TLDR: It wouldn’t hurt to show that Sayaka requires support from everyone in order to do her best.

[josphitia]

Josie's Cow HRT Journey Part 5 - Groceries and Friendship

*BeepBeep* *BeepBeep* *BeepBeep*

“Alright alright, I'm up…” *Yawn* “Ugh, my hair’s a mess…” I said groggily, reaching for the cheap comb I kept in the drawer by my mirror. “How is my hair so tangled and what is with this headache…” As I began to sift my hair, suddenly-

*Snap* was the sound as the teeth of the comb broke off, spiraling to the ground. They struck something hard, something unexpected, something that were-

“H-horns? *My* horns?” I muttered as I investigated the source of where the comb struggled and lost. I started to tear up as I parted my hair with my fingers. There they were, two small buds that had emerged from my skull. The first official start of my transition into the boviness I really was. Crying was the beginning of my morning that day, but it was a release of pure joy. I just kept staring at the two small glints of keratin that were stubbornly pushing their way through my scalp.

From there the changes came quickly one after the other over the coming days. I could see, I could feel, my body gratefully and ecstatically accepting the new hormones coursing through my body. Every day I found new developments to investigate: My ears began to taper into a point. My nails were taking on a dark, cloudy tint; as well as hardening themselves into stronger material. My canines were slowly becoming duller. There was a small nub at the bottom of my spine, a tail waiting for the right encouragement to spring forth. I felt a constant warmness radiating from inside me, with a growing hunger rising each day reminding me of the fuel I needed for my advancements.

Small, rounded, lattice-work hairs started to sprout over the whole of my body. It was like a thousand small needle pricks. A subtle stinging that I felt constantly over every inch of my skin, but focused primarily on my arms, legs, and face at these early stages. The Endo theorized that I can expect my fur to be the same color as the hair on my head, if a few degrees lighter in shade. My fur is going to be a beautiful shade of creamy brown, she said.

But the most prominent mutation was with my face itself. The pain was a numbing fire as I could feel my face elongating, my muzzle slowly growing to a flattened point. As if to fill any empty space created from my changes, my tongue was also growing suit. If my canines were still sharp I would be worried about the relentless stabbings they would inflict. Instead my body was in harmony, each change benefitting the way my body was transforming.

It is an odd sensation to feel euphoria from the growing of fur in places you had previously endured painful hair removal procedures on. It’s hard not to feel pangs of loss at the years I spent moving my body towards a direction that ultimately wasn’t for me. Pangs of jealousy at the people who have started their journeys before me. Pangs of resentment towards myself at not realizing what I needed to do, *what I could have done,* sooner. But I am on this journey now and more and more the only feeling filling my heart was *pride.* I look in the mirror and I'm finally starting to see *me.*

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

I had been spending the first transformative week in my own home, journaling my changes like some amateur documentarian. But, I was beginning to run low on the essentials. Fresh greens and produce had begun to be the only things I could reliably eat, and unfortunately, those are products you must purchase with regularity. With horror, I knew what I had to do: Make a trip to the grocery.

While I felt happiness and pride at my current state, one thought clouded the back of my mind: You're not there *yet.* You don't *pass.* That concept can be toxic, and it has led to many persons to focus on their own appearances to an unhealthy degree. But it is predicated on one simple notion: It's not safe for me to simply *exist.* This society is one built upon conformity in all aspects. To be different is a threat. It signals to the establishment that they have not done enough to control you. To your fellow citizens, it raises feelings of contempt. *They* were following the expectations laid before them, why can't you? It is sadly easier for many to lambast and degrade another rather than to focus their energies inward to self-discovery.

And so I donned an outfit similar to the ones I wore early in my first transition. A baggy hoodie, a pair of loose jeans, and old shoes. All articles of clothing chosen for one primary purpose; to conceal as much of my body as possible. However, these clothes did not obfuscate my appearance as well as they did in the past. For starters, my tail had finally emerged from its dormancy. I had hoped I could simply squirrel it away inside my pants' leg, but that proved too uncomfortable. I simply had to let my new limb be free, even if it was a signal to those behind me that I was of a different sort than them. But, the biggest identifier of my otherness was the wide muzzle that my face had been contoured into. No matter how I wore my hood, my flat nose poked through. I relented, the rumbling in my stomach rising with every minute I fuddled with my appearance. This was simply the best I could do, the beginnings of a cow wearing clothes too big for her, with a small tail above her jeans and a pink snout leaning out from her hood.

The mUver driver gave me many side glances, before simply asking me “Is there one o' dem furry conventions in town?” I lied, to protect myself, and said “Yeah. A small one.” The answer proved enough to satiate his curiosity and the rest of the ride we both partook in an alliance of silence. He dropped me off in front of the store. 5 stars, I instinctively input, not wanting to somehow offend the man who provided me passage. I held my empty bags close and walked through the store.

“Most people are just trying to live their own lives. They won't notice you” I chanted to myself, a mantra to get me through this obstacle called shopping. I made a straight line for the produce and began to stockpile, doing the math in my head between how much I *could* buy, how much I *could* eat, and how much *would* spoil were my math wrong. While comparing between two particularly small heads of cabbage, I heard the first comments regarding my appearance.

“Mommy, what's wrong with her face?”

It alarmed me, as anyone talking about you but not to you would, but it didn't frighten me. This little girl was simply curious about the world around her. There *was* something different about my face, something she had never witnessed before. There *was* something wrong with my face, it hadn't grown to its full splendor yet. But the next thing I heard killed any confidence I had been building during this excursion.

“Don't look at him, sweety” the mother sniped as she yanked her child in the opposite direction of myself.

Him. *Him.* The pronoun I had been able to avoid being labeled was back. The anxiety built within me. Was it simply that the mother did not give herself a proper look at me, using the first pronoun that came to her? Did the clothes I wear obscure my appearance so much that I presented male? But the thought that pushed all others out, rising to the forefront of my consciousness was one I had never considered: Was being bovine a trait seen as inherently male to the greater public? It was a notion so at odds with my own perception of reality. Being a cow was the greatest expression of my femininity. How could that be seen as masculine, of all things?

I deduced I had picked up enough food for at least a few days. I headed to the registers, I needed to leave. But, of course, the bored cashiers were now replaced with ones frantic as their lines were packed with irritable customers. I searched but to no avail for the self-checkout lanes. I always avoided interaction as a standard practice, but at this moment such an exercise felt paramount to my own safety. And thus I relented, slipping myself to the back of a line.

I put my face into my phone, trying my best to ignore my material reality. To my shock I had a notification I had never seen before: “You have 1 new follower.” I had begun to post about my transition online like so many others had done, but I never imagined someone would actually be interested in *mine.* I didn't know what to do except look at the profile of this person who had taken an interest in my own. She was a stunning tiger my own age who was following all sorts of other Therians. But before I knew it, my self-induced bubble was popped by the reality around me.

“Ew what the fuck is wrong with their face?”

The first of many whispers to come. At least this time they gendered me somewhat correctly. But I wasn't prepared for the insults to come.

“Ugh, another ugly bitch thinking she's a dragon”

W-what? Why did that hurt so much? I was gendered correctly, albeit rudely… But why did not being recognized as a cow hurt so bad? Dragons are cool, so many people I look up to are dragons… Shouldn't I be honored to be considered one?

“Dude what are you talking about?” said another voice.

“That girl over there. Look at her face and she's obviously hiding horns underneath her hoodie. It's all the rage nowadays amongst people like *them.* Thinking that being a dragon will fix all their problems.”

“Whaaa?? Dude that's just crazy”

More talking behind my back that felt like daggers into my shoulders.

“Wait, she's a dragon??”

“I don't think people like that should be allowed in public”

“Yeah what happens if she just up and snaps? I've seen videos about it”

I try to ignore them. They're gendering me correctly. They don't know. But now I can feel everyone's eyes on me. I feel like I'm on a stage. Try as I might their words penetrate any barriers I try to erect. One word keeps permeating the air:

“Dragon”

“Dragon”

“Dragon”

Everything goes white. My ears are ringing. The blood rushes to my face. I can't contain it anymore. I close my eyes and shout “I'M NOT A DRAGON! I'M A COW!”

Silence except for hushed whispers and laughing. I feel a sudden drop in every aspect of myself as my adrenaline plummets. I approach a cashier who does their best to showcase their contempt for me, but I have no strength to defend against their attitude. I pay for my goods and wait outside for my mUver. One thought permeates my mind through the ride: I need to find people like me to talk to.

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

I reached out to the tigress who had followed me earlier. We began talking and I was just happy to have someone who understood my trials. Someone I was finding camaraderie with. After a few days of talking, she presented me with an opportunity: “Hey, so there's a Therian meetup happening in a few days. If you're able to, would you like to attend?”

How could I not?

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

I arrived at the place. It was an average looking community center. I walked through to the lobby and with one glance the receptionist gestured me to the hallway to my left. I guess I looked the part. I had decided to forgo my previous attire of baggy clothes and wore something more true to me: A tank top emblazoned with a skull & flowers and some jean shorts.

I walked trepidatiously down the hall. I knew I would be meeting people (animals?) that were traveling the same road of self discovery and expression that I was. I would be meeting the nice tigress whom I had already talked to and formed a rapport. So why was I anxious? I guess it was because, if I alienated even these people, it meant I would truly be alone on this journey.

I found a door with the simple words “Therian Meetup” taped haphazardly to the door. If it wasn't evident by the sign, the noises inside would be a telltale indicator. I opened the door to a cacophony of sights and sounds, yet somehow all pleasing. Animals of all sorts were each having a myriad of conversations amongst themselves and others in makeshift groups.

A lamia was at the far side of the room in a wheelchair. Her scales were a shade of deep blue and shined like sapphires in the light. Her eyes were slit yellow pupils with almost pitch black sclera. “People, pleasssse sssstay on topic” she said in a distressed tone, clearly caught off guard by her own newfound speech pattern. But soon enough she was smiling, joining in with her own insights and interests with one of the ongoing discussions.

To her right was a king cobra looking man, with green hair and brilliant black scales. He was in deep conversation with a horned goat girl. She had white and black fur across the whole of her body and she already had her hooves. Her horns were like mine, visible but clearly still growing in.

On the opposite side of the room was a kind looking man with primarily dark hair, red and blond highlights, black/red striped armbands that ran up to his elbows, and many rose tattoos scattered throughout. He was holding hands with a *very* buff werewolf girl with sharp teeth and hairy forearms. She was enraptured, hanging onto his every word with vigorous nodding and smiling. They were both speaking to a towering snake woman using a walker. She had black scales and green hands, green eyes with gray sclera and rows of sharp teeth. She had a long tongue that lent her to the same speech pattern I heard previously of elongatting her S’s.

Closer to me was a slime girl and an androgynous snake, wearing glasses and using a wheelchair, engaging in banter and laughing fits. The girl had an orange amber tone to both the patches of skin still remaining on her and to her slime. She had bones floating about in her, vestiges of her previous form. She was holding her phone and, her slime unconducive to a touch screen, used a stylus to navigate. She showed the snake something else that caused them to laugh with a hissing sound. Their chuckling was punctuated with the same speech pattern of multiple S’s that I quickly learned was a telltale quirk of the snakes and lamias among the group. Their clawed hands were completely covered in shimmering purple scales that extended, in a patchwork pattern, the length of their arms.

Everyone was having a fun time. Did I really belong with such a group of eclectic happiness? But before I could give such notions a chance to take root, a white furred tigress with faded purple hair started waving to me. It was the same woman who had invited me to this group in the first place. She beckoned me to an open seat between her and… another cow?? And it was the same girl I saw eating a bowl of grass way back when! She had come along so well in her transition. She was a different kind of cow than I was, highland to my jersey. Her hair, a shade of brown with streaks of red, had grown thick over her eyes and her horns were growing magnificently.

I sat between them and the three of us just… simply talked. About memes. About life. About anything. Eventually we all drifted to other conversations to mingle in. I talked to all sorts of animals that day. It was one of the most relaxing yet exciting experiences of my life. I felt comfortable. I felt wanted. I felt like, for the first time in my life, I had found my people.

I had found friends.

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Josie's Cow HRT Journey

First|Previous|Next

This was the longest one yet! I never thought that this AnimalHRT thing would connect me with so many wonderful people! Thank you to everyone who has become a part of my life's journey, both in this story and irl.

In no particular order, the people appearing in this story are:

@ariathelamia

@home-sweet-hive

@queenofwerewolves

@starwaycereal

@kontonord

@tigergirltail

@pennymations

@robins-warudo

@sandyca5tle

@thecrystalmountainsystem

[geodraws04]

PKMN ScarVio DLC AU ~ Possessed!Kieran

Just finished the page for my contribution to the good ol’ Toxic Chain theory :OOO

I recently finished the Teal Mask and finishing up the Indigo Disk DLC and while i really did like the fact that Kieran’s actions were all his own and makes him a much more realistic/relatable character, I am feeling a little robbed we didn't get a possessed!kieran + i really did not like the direction they took w/ Mochi Mayhem. I felt like it was WAAAY too silly/comedic for my tastes (if you liked it more power to you tho!), and wish we had more lore/backstory and involvement of Pecharunt and the Loyal 3 respectivally.

so i wanted to try killing two birds with one stone and try to mash ID and MM together somewhat! So heres some sketches and concept stuff ft. My PKMN!Violet sona. And also make this AU ANGSTY AS FUCK-

im not a comedy/crack/silly person when it comes to stories involving manipulation/mind control type of stuff because i just get second hand embarressment for those under doing wierd stuff while not aware so if your looking for a “silly haha!” AU with this type of concept ive got bad news for ya… this AU aint gonna be for you-

Starting off… my design for when Kieran is fully possessed by Pecharunt!

I still really liked the fact that Kieran was like. FULLY aware and in his own mind/body during ID; so i want to keep that in this AU too - for the most part.

id like to think that once making a deal with Pecharunt and offering himself to it in order to become stronger, the little peach would slowly feed him mochi that would “numb the pain and guilt if he ever feels doubtful.” At the time of Pecharunt’s debut to the start of ID, pecharunt is extremely weak and thus, its influence isnt as effective or strong. However, when we meet Kieran again, he’s definately beginning to change. throughout the story, we see Kieran’s spiraling descent into madness as he becomes more intimidating and cynical.

i dont have a specific spot where hed have this outfit change, but ill figure it out lol.

However, i def think it would be a bit after his panic attack/mental break down when we defeat him. Since at this point he couldnt uphold his end of the deal with Pecharunt, it has no choice: he offered his body and mind to it to get stronger, but he couldnt keep it up. So now, he has to pay the price.

(This would be right after the Ex-Champ bit - fuck you Draydon)

however, instead of telling himself to get stronger like in canon… he mumbles something indescernable and unintelligable… and then he starts… laughing?

“K-Kieran…?”

“Uh… yo, earth to ex-champion… you doin’ alright-?”

Suddenly… he glares at us… no. He glares at you, tears streaming down his face but an animalistic and crazily wide smile is plastered on his face as he stumbles back up, hugging himself while letting out what one would think is the most maniacal, despairing, crazy cackling laughter one could hear.

That's when you see it - his eyes, formally a light yellow, now a bright yet darkly sinister shade of violet-magenta. The scrunchie he was wearing began growing two strings of toxic chains that waved around like tentacles, and lifted him up in the air like stilts, purple smoke filling the area.

what was happening… whats happened to Kieran.

no, whatever that was…

Thats not Kieran.

The bottom sketch is a small scenario i had in mind!

i want pecharunt to have a larger role so here they are! After returning the teal mask to me and carmine and running off, he stumbles upon an injured and weak Pecharunt, and secretly nurses it back to health. Behind everyone’s backs the two spark a friendship/partnership!

i like to think pecharunt has good intentions and did genuinely want to help kieran get stronger, but i like to think that the toxins it gave to Kieran not only began to mess with Kieran’s mind, but with Pecharunt’s too.

how exactly? No idea just yet lol- ill figure that out later on down the line lol. Along with the loyal 3’s roles in the story as well.

Heres a few for fun and more funny sketches i made to fill up the empty space lol-

also feat. Moi, yuma and shinigami jykghhfjhfdjhygjuy-

QUICK DISCLAIMER! IM NOT SHIPPING MYSELF W/ KIERAN SINCE HES IMPLIED TO BE A TEEN AND IM A LEGAL ADULT!! the DLC came out when i was 17; almost 18 (released a few days before my bday actually!)

i like to think that when this story and AU respectively take place, Kieran is 14 while im 16 turning 17 that fall in Teal Mask (Carmine being 18 or 19?), then in Indigo Disc Kieran is 16, im 18, and Carmine is 19/20. So me and kieran are 2 years apart, while me and Carmine are 1-2 years apart.

Its mostly because id like to think me and kieran’s dynamic is similar to a close friend i have irl and wanted to write it as such while retaining the canon story too. If that makes sense lol.

And one more sady drawing when kieran is freed from Pecharunt’s control!

i think i speak for everyone that we needed a scene where we hugged kieran after all the shit he’s been through-

justice for my baby boy kieran. :,,,))

AAAAAAANNNNNNDDDDD THATS ALL I GOT FOR NOW!!

what do yall think :000

any suggestions/ideas, critiques, whatever is on your mind about this AU is appreciated!! Im gonna get back to my remnant designs lol-

[whoreforhorror]

So, I literally have no motivation and am just not in a great place right now. I can barely get out of bed for work and showers are exhausting.

Have a repost from my AO3

Movie Intervention (Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher)

Summary: You’ve been working yourself too hard at school and haven’t given the boys the attention they need, so they take things into their own hands.

It was a bad habit to fall into, you knew that. Still, there wasn’t much you could do about it. Between actually having to go to school, the homework you got after, and work, your day was jam-packed. There weren’t enough hours in the day, so you had to free your hours at night. This means that you were here again, gearing up for another late late-night study session. Physics specifically had been kicking your ass and you had to ace this next test or you were certain you’d be doomed to repeat the class. For the sake of your long-term sanity, you couldn’t let that happen.

Several times now, you’d had to cancel on your friends. You still saw them at school, and Randy at work as well, but it wasn’t the same as actually hanging out or partying. You’d had to turn down numerous invitations to sleep over at Tatum’s with Sydney and gossip. You’d had to miss Stu’s parties and miss movie nights with him and Billy. You couldn’t really indulge Randy in his usual rants at work, as well. You missed them all, especially Billy and Stu.

You cared deeply about the both of them, more so than the others in your group. You weren’t sure if they noticed or returned the sentiment, and you weren’t really sure what to call it. Maybe a crush, but it felt more comfortable than that. It would definitely be too early to call it love, too. Every time you had to turn them down, to hear the disappointment over the phone or see the looks of yet another letdown in person, it felt like someone stacked another ten-pound plate on your chest. Sooner or later, if this continued, you just might crack under the pressure.

It was nearly eleven at night now, not too late yet but you could be assured that most of Woodsboro was fast asleep by now. Knowing that was, perhaps, even more isolating than your room which you’d spent the better part of two weeks in. The desk in your room had felt more like a prison as you studied. To avoid distractions, you turned off the lights in your room and used solely the little desk lamp in the corner as you worked. It was less burning the midnight oil and more someone set the entire pot of oil on fire and poked a hole in it so that it was both burning too fast and spilling out the bottom. You were, in this moment and for the past two weeks, a fiery ball of leaking oil.

Time stretched on and your back ached. Your wrist, fingers, neck, and shoulders ached with it. Your… well your everything seemed to hurt. “It’s not even that late…” talking out loud to yourself was the only way your thoughts could be coherent at all. “I’ve stayed up way later than this. I can do this.” You could repeat a similar sentiment to yourself all you wanted, scream it at the top of your lungs and say it with all the passion your heart could hold but it wouldn’t stop the words on the pages from blurring and doubling. Nothing you looked at could stay still and you took another gulp of your half-filled energy drink (the fourth of the night and sixth of the day) which only served to prove just as unhelpful. You could feel your mind start to spiral into nonsensical half-thoughts and abstract concepts you didn’t have the energy to define.

A knock at your front door pulled your brain from its spiral and shot adrenaline through your body, enough to be able to pull yourself from your chair and drag yourself to the door. You opened it to be greeted by Stu, with his fist in the space where the door had just been, and Billy who had popcorn and a tape in hand. They seemed, at first, surprised that you answered at all, then taken aback at your disheveled, sleep-deprived appearance.

“Hey, buddy!” Stu was the first to speak up. “We missed ya’ so we thought we’d drop by. If you can’t come to movie night, we’ll bring it to you!” You weren’t quite sure what to say for a few very long seconds.

“Oh… I’m sorry guys. I can’t- I mean, I’d love to and I wish we could but I’ve got to study. Maybe some other time?” You could hear the exhaustion in your voice, much to your displeasure. You sounded worse than you thought. It hurt to have to turn them away, especially when they had gone out of their way to come to you with everything needed, but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t.

“We’re not taking no for an answer,” Billy spoke up.

“Yeah, no can do, man! I mean, we’re already here and your down here as well! It’d be more work to go allllll the way back upstairs.” He chimed in and pushed past you as he spoke. Billy followed suit.

“Guys…” you sighed out.

“Shut it.” Billy cut you off before you could finish your thought. He grabbed hold of your arm, pulling you fast enough that you could just barely shut the front door before you were much too far away. You were too tired to physically resist.

The two made their way to your living room, dragging you along with them. Billy was first to set on the couch, pulling you to sit in the middle so he was on your left. He opened the pre-made popcorn he had with him and offered you some. You were too tired to chew, if that even made sense. Either way, you shook your head. You were quickly losing any energy you had left and verbally responding to anything took far too much effort that you didn’t have.

Stu grabbed a large, fuzzy blanket from somewhere in your living room, spreading it out to cover both you and Billy, with enough extra to cover himself when he sat down as well. Billy tossed him the tape to get the movie started. You knew from the music as the movie began that they had chosen Halloween. It was a movie you had watched a thousand times, hundreds of those times being with Billy and Stu. You knew the movie like the back of your hand by now, and you were sure they knew that. They’d purposely chosen a movie you’d seen before so you could sleep without worrying about missing anything.

It dawned on you as Stu sat down on the couch right next to you on your right, covering himself with the blanket and putting his arm around your shoulder, that the boys, perhaps, felt the same closeness to you as you did to them. Certainly, they hadn’t done this for anyone else in the group. Not Randy, not Sydney, and not Tatum, even though the girls were dating Billy and Stu, respectively. It was enough to pull a smile on your lips; the first in weeks. You felt Billy put his arm around your waist and rest his hand on your thigh, pulling you into him just slightly but allowing you to stay in Stu’s arm as well. The two passed the popcorn back and forth between each other as they, or really Stu for the most part, rambled on about different cinematic techniques the movie used and the landmarks the movie had made, all while you put your head on Stu’s shoulder. Your eyelids grew heavy and each time you blinked, you found yourself wanting to open them less and less.

You fell asleep like that, with your head on Stu’s shoulder as he rambled on about the movie, in the hold of your two favorite people in Woodsboro. And, as you drifted off, you decided there was nowhere else you’d rather be. Your hearing was the last to go as you faded out.

“Stu, shut the fuck up. You’re going to wake them up.”

“Am not!”

“Stu.”

“Fine, whatever man.” A pause. “G’night sweets.”

“Yeah, sleep well, babe.”

…And you were out.

[cleolinda]

Weekend links

My posts

I have been amorphously unwell (migraines, dizziness, aches) this week, which is super great. I am, in fact, daunted by the complexities and unknowns.

See "Personal tag of the week" at the bottom for updates on the Tumblr happenings.

Reblogs of interest

Thousands of Israelis protest in Tel Aviv, demanding a hostage release/ceasefire deal and new elections.

I never know how to segue from a serious news item.

Theseus liveblogs the labyrinth, and it’s heartbreaking.

Before hbomberguy was going after plagiarism, he was playing Donkey Kong for trans rights.

“to touch is to interact, and when you put your hand on your dog the universe does not know that you are separate”

The universe knows you are separate from this cat’s Absolute Terror Field

Cats named Pigeon

The most dramatic cat

Figure out what starts your engine and ride the waves of your brain

This is not van fundamentalism

Lawful good werebears

The Godmother is not committed to the kindness

Escape room employees reveal the worst, or best, things they’ve seen on the job.

“So I explained to him the story of ‘Alice’s Restaurant,’ and he began to get MAD”

It seems that y’all do not understand that the Better Call Saul ads are just how we live in the US, and that I pass five Alexander Shunnarah billboards just to get a quesadilla. 

1) Don’t take your native animals for granted. 2) This jay is the bluebird of happiness, apparently.

Wisdom from a Tumblr longtimer

Benign chain posts: the Money Garf

Video

Every now and then I fall apaaaaaart

Click through for a massive gothic rock playlist on YouTube

It’s a great dance contest entry--but then they tell you it’s also randomly-paired improv

Capybara capybara (capybara)

The sacred texts

You have not seen a sacred internet text until you have seen the Lolrus (2006)

Personal tag of the week

“the happenings” is my tag for all internet platform bullshit. This week, it’s Tumblr, as CEO Matt Mullenweg lost his shit and started harassing a trans user (including on another platform). This is a factual explanation early in the week of what happened and how it started: 

predstrogen (the first blog) was allegedly deleted for “sexually explicit material” despite any posts that may have been labelled as such being marked with a community label and her blog recently being manually approved as NOT containing adult content. she also talks in this post, as well as here, about how she has had a support ticket open for several months for harassment she was receiving that has not been dealt with

the CEO of tumblr made a post wherin he publicly aired information regarding her deletion and threatened legal action against her , showing examples of the alleged death threats where no actual threats were made and telling people in the replies to just leave if they were unhappy with the moderation of the site

Specifically, he was upset by the expressed wish that he perish in a car covered in hammers that would explode multiple times, a serious threat that could surely come to fruition in reality. If you can't tell that I'm being sarcastic, congratulations, you're CEO material.

It spiraled from there, but suffice it to say, it ended with trans employees posting on the Staff account (reblog here with commentaries):

The reality of predstrogen’s suspension was not accurately conveyed, and made it seem like we were reaching for opportunities to ban trans feminine people on the platform. This is not the case. The example comment shared in the post linked above does not meet our definition of a realistic threat of violence, and was not the deciding factor in the account suspension. Matt thereafter failed to recognize the harm to the community as a result of this suspension. Matt does not speak on behalf of the LGBTQ+ people who help run Tumblr or Automattic, and we were not consulted in the construction of a response to these events.

While the post is sincerely emotional and brave, the real chess move is this part:

We appreciate the space we have been given to express our concerns and dissent, and we are thankful that Matt’s (and Automattic’s) strong commitment to freedom of expression has facilitated it. We will continue to fight to make Tumblr safe for us all.

Matt Mullenweg now either has to nod and go, “Yeah, yeah... I’m a great guy committed to freedom...” Or he can, I don’t know, shut the site down in a fit of defiant pique? All I’m going to say about this is that the day all this first went down, I started archiving any posts I’d put significant effort into last year, and I’ll be crossposting them on Dreamwidth and Patreon. I don’t want to lose Tumblr’s culture and unique platform--I mean, I think the Weekend Links themselves make a case for the fact that there is nothing else like Tumblr on the internet. And shutting down is not even necessarily the most likely outcome--but I’m not gonna be caught unprepared, either. 

[yeoosaangg]

Babydoll || Kinktober - Day 12

pairing ▸ han jisung × f!reader

now playing ▸ babydoll - ari abdul

⤷ ❝wrapped around your finger, wish your tongue would linger.❞

genre ▸ idol au, fwb to lovers, smut

warnings ▸ masochism, praise, degradation, choking, fingering, rimming, marking, blood kink, consented recording, overstimulation, dumbification

── ⋆ ⋆ ── 𔘓 ── ⋆ ⋆ ──

You haven't seen Jisung in a while, so you were a bit surprised when he called you. He was already whiny, asking you to meet him in his studio.

You were in the middle of getting your pussy ate by some random dude, but you couldn't just say no to your baby.

You told him to go faster, squirting all over his face before kicking him out.

When you started messing around with Jisung, you made it clear it wasn't just going to be him. He was perfectly okay with it back then.

Until he fell in love with you.

Now, it breaks his heart everytime he finds out you've been with other men. He wants to be the only one to have your attention.

Not that he'd ever tell you, though. Your arrangement has rules, specifically a "no falling in love" rule. He hates it now, regretting signing the documents.

But he doesn't regret the times he does spend with you. You help release a lot of his stress by feeding into his kinks. You being a domme was perfect for his disgusting fantasies.

You walk through the familiar hallway and find his studio. As soon as you lock the door behind you, he throws himself into your arms.

He kisses all over your face, saying how much he's missed you. You rub circles into his hips to calm him down, fingers slipping under his hoodie.

You kiss his forehead, amused at how giggly he is at your presence.

Y/n: Hey, there pretty baby. I missed you, too.

You had another guy's tongue in your cunt just ten minutes ago... But he doesn't need to know that.

Jisung pulls you onto his chair, sitting on your lap. His legs hand off the side, arms wrapped around your neck.

Y/n: Needy for me, aren't you?

Jisung: Need you so bad. Too much stress.

You kiss his entire face, hands groping his ass. He moans into your mouth, turning to straddle your lap.

He tugs at his clothes, whining when they don't come off. You chuckle, helping him get completely naked.

He tugs at your clothes, big eyes staring at you with such eagerness.

You give him permission to remove your clothes, and he leaves you in only your panties. You question his motives and then realize he's staring at your wet spot.

His face turns into a scowl.

Jisung: Who was it this time?

Y/n: Don't even know his name.

Jisung: Did he fuck you?

Y/n: Nah. Just ate me out.

You know he's jealous. Though, you think it's adorable. What's he gonna do to you, huh? You actually want to see him try.

Jisung: Why do you do this to me, Mistress? Do you secretly hate me?

Where did that come from?

Y/n: Of course not, baby. Why would you think that?

Jisung: You let other men touch you. Especially on the same day I want you all to myself. Do I not satisfy you enough? Am I too boring?

You frown, cupping his face when he tries to look away. You use your thumbs to wipe the river of tears pooling down his face

Y/n: What is it exactly that you want to tell me? You're spiraling and I need you to reel it back in, Hannie.

His bottom lip trembles as he stares at you with such sad eyes.

Jisung: I'm in love with you. And it hurts me everytime you're with men that aren't me. Why can't you just love me back?

Oh.

It's not that you don't want to love him, you just never thought about him that way.

You're the type of person that needs to be 100% sure that someone's interested in you in order to open up that part of yourself.

Just like now.

Y/n: I'm sorry that I hurt you, but that wasn't my intention. I was not aware you had feelings for me, seeing as our agreement was strictly of us being friends with benefits. That doesn't mean I can't love you one day.

His forehead creases, confusion now adorning his adorable features.

Jisung: What do you mean by that?

Y/n: I'm someone that believes it's unrealistic for someone to be into me. I don't pick up signals as well as others do because I assume it's just a friendly gesture.

He hums, playing with the string of his hoodie.

Y/n: Now that I'm aware of your feelings, I can slowly open up to the possibility of dating you. But it'll take time, Hannie.

Jisung: I'll wait for you, Mistress. I truly don't mind.

You give him a long and passionate kiss, a huge contrast to the hasty and lustful ones you usually give him.

Y/n: How about I take care of you today? Do whatever you want me to do to you, yeah?

Jisung: Really?

Y/n: Yes, babydoll. Anything you want.

He grins in excitement, looking around to see if anything can give him inspiration. He pulls the microphone and starts a brand new recording, pressing the button.

Jisung: Is this okay? Want to listen to it whenever you're not with me.

He's so fucking adorable.

Y/n: Humiliating, isn't it? Listening to yourself fall apart at my touch.

He moans when you grab his cock, pumping it at an agonizingly slow pace.

Jisung: Not at- Fuck! Not at all, Mistress. Love it when you ruin me.

Y/n: Yeah? Then what else do you want me to do other than tease your cock?

He melts in as your hand starts to pump at a faster pace.

Jisung: Carve your name onto me. Brand me as yours.

You bite down on his shoulder, the thought causing such nasty and vile comments to flood your brain.

Y/n: Where, babydoll.

Jisung: My hips. Please, Mistress.

You watch as his cum shoots out, coating your hand and his abdomen. You lick his cum clean of your hand, gathering the rest from his body.

Jisung: That's so hot.

You stand up, placing him on the chair. You take out a small switchblade and chuckle at how his cock twitched at the sight.

Y/n: Want me to lick the blood away, my little painslut?

He moans, nodding his head.

Jisung: Can I touch myself?

Y/n: Go ahead, baby.

He was so desperate to jerk himself off as you start cutting into the flesh of his hipbone. He cries out, loving how you lick the blood off with each letter.

Jisung: A heart too, please.

You chuckle, adding a heart next to your name.

You don't stop licking the blood until it has somewhat stopped.

His cum coats your face and he panics.

Jisung: I'm sorry, Mistress! Just felt so good, didn't mean to cum without permission.

You slap his tender thigh, eliciting a whine from the back of his throat.

Y/n: This is about you, babydoll. No need to apologize. How does my masterpiece look?

He looks down and moans at the sight.

Jisung: Now everyone's gonna know I'm yours.

Y/n: And from now on, I'm yours. No more sleeping around.

Jisung: Good. Now please finger me, Mistress.

You spread his legs, eyebrows raising at the small plug lodge in his ass.

Jisung: Wanted to be ready for you.

You kiss the inside of his thighs, pulling the toy out. He moans at the feeling, choking when you shove three fingers into his tight hole.

Jisung: Fuck! Yes, use me like a whore.

Y/n: Looks like you didn't prep yourself right. Did you do this on purpose?

He nods, screaming when you take his cock in your mouth.

Jisung: So good! Warm and wet.

You deep throat him, fingers opening him up as his eyes roll to the back of his head. He plays with his nipples, his breathing labored.

Jisung: Too much! Feeling lots!

Your fingers hit his prostate, his cum shooting down your throat. His whining and moaning tells you he's severely overstimulated.

You pull your fingers out, only for him to grab your wrist to keep them there. But you slap his hand away and he gasps when you hold his hips down.

Jisung: What- Oh, fuck!

You pull off his cock and start eating him out. Your tongue pushes into his ass so deliciously, his legs start shaking.

Jisung: Can I- Mmm- Can I please pull your hair?

You nod, not withdrawing from rimming his hole.

His hands weave through your hair, pulling you closer to have your tongue as far inside him as you can.

Jisung: So good!

You bring a hand up and pump his cock. He throws his head back and cums hard against his abdomen. Before you pull away, you bite his inner thigh, earning a beautiful whimper.

Jisung: Can I be inside you now?

Y/n: Look at you, sweet pup. So eager for me to use you like a dildo.

Jisung: Mhm! Wanna make Mistress feel good, too.

You push his legs into his chest and smack his ass hard. He whines at the sting, but laughs when the pleasure takes over.

Y/n: Dildos don't speak, mutt. Now sit there, don't move, and let me fuck myself on your cock.

He nods, sitting back on the chair. He tries to be as limp as possible, wanting to please you.

You straddle his lap, not wasting any time and bounce on his cock. You don't hold back your moans, squatting up and down, fondling your own breasts.

Y/n: Such an obedient little puppy, so perfectly trained. You can get all the rewards for being so good.

He holds back from whimpering at your words. Your gummy walls engulf his hard cock so deliciously, he's seeing stars.

Y/n: You can speak and move now, baby.

He screams, his mouth attaching to your left nipple. He uses it like it's his own personal chew toy.

Y/n: Such a whore for my boobs. You'd have them in your mouth all the time if it was allowed, huh?

He whines, bucking his hips up. You yelp in surprise at the way his tip hit your cervix.

Y/n: Be a good boy and fuck your Mistress. Use her like your own personal fleshlight.

He was so dazed, he thought he was halucinating. But when you wrap your hand around his neck, he knew you actually meant it.

Jisung: Anything for you.

He grabs your hips and desperately rams his cock into your begging cunt. He watches the way your eyes roll into the back of your head - he wants more.

He starts marking your neck, hickeys lining up your collarbone in a pretty shade of red.

Your orgasm hits you hard, creaming all over his lower half. He smiles in satisfaction from making you feel just as good as you make him feel.

Jisung: Was that good, Mistress?

Y/n: So fucking good.

You roll your hips, overstimulating the both of you. You just want to keep him forever with the way he makes your pussy scream.

Jisung: So... Another round?

═══

a/n: *evil laughter* thanks for reading ‹𝟹

[the1975attheirverybest]

just could really use something where maybe ur anxious and crying or whatever it may be for whatever reason and matty just holds u and runs his hands through your hair and whispers sweet nothings and affirmations IDK i just feel kinda shit rn ig

Oh, honey. I’m so sorry you’re having a difficult time right now. Please know that it will pass. Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. I am sending you all the best vibes and well wishes. I’m here for you, if you need to vent or chat or anything at all. Been there myself. More times than I can count. So, I completely understand. ❤️ I hope that this can at least bring a smile to your face.

——

Matty walked through the door, expecting to be greeted with a hug from his favorite human being, after a long day at work. He kicked his shoes off, glancing around the room for signs of her. His brows furrow at the eerie silence. He’s used to the speakers blasting music, the sounds and smells of her cooking, or the TV being on, at the very least. This quiet was unsettling.

He rushes up the stairs, whistling the tune of the song he’s been working on all day. He peaks his head into the bedroom and smiles when his eyes finally land on her figure.

“Hey, baby! What’re you doin’ up here so early?” He walks over, a bit concerned that she doesn’t turn around to look at him as soon as he shows up. “Hey, you sleepin’ or something?”

She eventually pulls herself up and turns to face him, mumbling a soft apology. “Sorry, I- umm, just didn’t hear you come in.”

Matty is alarmed. How could she not have heard him come in, walk up the stairs, and all the way to the bedroom? He sits by her on the bed, taking her face in his hands and looking her straight in the eyes. Which is when it dawns on him that she’s on the verge of tears.

“Hey, honey, what’s the matter, my love?”

She bites her wobbly lip, struggling to keep from crying. All the effort that she had put into shoving her anxious thoughts into the back of her mind, and all the energy that she had spent telling herself to power through the hard part, and to just be strong for one more day, was now washing away at the sound of his gentle coaxing pulling at her heartstrings.

She shakes her head and attempts to brush him off, but Matty will not hear of it. He can tell she’s upset, and his heart is breaking at the tears in her eyes. “Baby, please talk to me. What’s the matter?” His hand on her neck and bottom of her cheek, pulls her into him, and she can no longer keep the tears at bay. She sobs into his arms, with him holding her tight, and vents to him while his shirt soaks up her tears, about how awful she’s been feeling for a long time now. That she feels stuck and helpless with her mind spiraling all the time. It feels like the world around her is moving at warp speed, and she has to exert twice as much energy just to try and keep up, and most of the time, she can’t even do that. And she feels guilty for even being upset because she knows she’s supposed to be stronger than this, but she’s just so exhausted all the time.

Matty listens to her speak and feels the sobs shake her whole body as they leave her lips and his heart shatters to a million pieces. “Baby, why haven’t you said anything? I wish you’d talked to me…if I’d known that you’ve been feeling this way- fuck, I never would’ve left for work this morning.” He hates to imagine that while he slept soundly by her side every night, she’s been lying awake struggling in anguish without his support.

He pulls them both into the bed so he’s resting his back against the headboard, with her in his lap, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead and cooing to her. “It’s okay, my love. I’ve got you. You’re not alone. Don’t have to be strong anymore. You can fall apart if you need to. I’ll catch you, I’ll put you back together.”

She falls asleep with him holding her, and he’s there in the morning when she tries to pretend everything’s fine and start her day anew.

“You need to rest. You can’t fix your situation if you’re running on fumes.”

“But life doesn’t pause and wait for me. If I don’t get on with it, I’ll fall behind. It’ll be even worse!” She feels the emotions bubble back up to the surface, but she doesn’t have time for this right now. She’s a grown up, with real responsibilities, and no time for outbursts.

“Fuck that shit! I couldn’t give a rats ass about the rest of the world. What I care about is you. My love. My favorite person. Everyone else could set themselves on fire for all I care. If you’re not healthy, how could you be expected to get anything done?” He puts his hands on both of her shoulders, dragging her back to bed. “Please. Stay here with me. Just for today. Let me spoil you. Let me take care of you. We’ll have a day in. Just us. I wanna talk. Feel like I haven’t been present. I wanna know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. If all you need is some rest, we’ll make sure you get it. If you need professional help, I want to make sure you have it. Please, baby, stay home with me.”

And how could she refuse. When he looks at her with his pretty eyes and she sees the concern that fills them, she knows he’s right. And at least for the moment, the burden isn’t as heavy. Knowing that he would gladly carry it with her is the first glimmer of hope she’s felt in a long time.

[now-you-sound-like-a-jedi]

Chapter Seven is up!

In which Satine and Obi-Wan try to convince the Jedi Council to authorise action against Maul, Anakin and Ahsoka are nosy little shits, and things predictably go from bad to worse very quickly...

AO3 LINK

Out of Context Excerpts:

One:

‘Hello, Ahsoka. Having fun, Anakin?’ Anakin whirled around to face her, still wincing a little from the impact of his padawan’s elbow. ‘Uh, hi,’ he said, looking sheepish. Satine looked between the two, her eyebrows raised. ‘Have you two been listening at the door?’ she asked, amused. ‘Of course not!’ said Ahsoka, with an innocent expression that Satine didn’t buy for a second.  ‘We’ve been listening at the bottom of the stairs,’ corrected Anakin. ‘The noise travels quite well.’

Two:

The High Council chamber was located at the top of a tower, at the end of a tall spiralling staircase. Obi-Wan pulled his arm apart from hers at the door. It didn’t surprise her - professionalism on both of their parts was certainly the way to go - and if it left her feeling a little colder, well, she’d just blame that on the chill of the air.  ‘I think the rest of the Council is well aware by this point that I am incapable of impartiality where you’re concerned,’ was what he had said last night, while in the process of determining how best to be a help to her rather than a hindrance. It sounded to Satine like the blessed Council was more apprised of his feelings towards her at the moment than she was.

Three:

She had met the ancient Jedi master only once before, at Obi-Wan’s fake funeral last year, and from what little of the experience her mind had not completely blocked out, she could recall thinking that in other circumstances she could have quite liked Yoda. But she didn’t need that memory today, nor the undercurrent of resentment that it stirred up. Frankly, she would’ve been far happier if they had simply let the Chancellor get shot and spared everyone the trouble (not to mention the psychological whiplash) of that whole Rako Hardeen scheme.

And four:

Ahsoka shrugged. ‘I’ll do it,’ she said. Anakin snorted. ‘Not so fast, Snips.’ ‘I’m serious!’ the girl insisted. ‘Put me on a ship, I’ll turn Maul’s horns into my next headband.’ Obi-Wan met Satine’s eyes and nearly choked on a laugh. He put an arm around Ahsoka and clasped her shoulder. ‘How about you stick to the battle droids, padawan, hmm?’ he suggested lightly. ‘At least that way I can sleep at night!’

[blueraineshadows]

Hello! I have come to your page, and I am in love with everything you wrote! Especially the fluff/Nsfw happy family ones! Can I request something similar like that but with Amit Thakkar! It's your choice on how many and the names of the children/child :)) I'm here to support and love your work!!! 💕✨

Aww thank you so much for the support!! 💜

I was a little nervous with this one, I don't feel I know Amit as well, but I will give it a go. I hope Team Amit enjoy 💙 🌟

Amit Thakkar x F!MC - NSFW 🔞 fluff, smut

The soft, gentle tones of Amit's voice drifted from the bedroom as he read a bedtime story to Rian. MC was in her own bed nursing baby Isha, her fingers gently stroking the soft black hair on her head. She gazed down at her daughter, the love in her heart so powerful for such a tiny bundle.

She thought of her life before Hogwarts, an orphan in a London workhouse, and how the small minds of the people there would have shunned her for having a mixed race child. How could anyone not love the faces of her children? She had been truly blessed.

As she burped baby Isha, and settled her down in the wicker basket crib, MC smiled fondly at her memories of her courtship. How Amit had swept her off her feet with his quiet charm and thoughtfulness. He had made it so easy for her to fall in love.

Entering the Wizarding World had been an exciting but terrifying time, MC had found herself having to dig very deep to summon the strength and bravery to face all of her trials. Her friends had tried to help her, but it was Amit who provided a guiding light through it all.

He was her very own star in the darkness.

With Isha settled, MC went to the kitchen to make some tea. She liked to have a nice cup before bed. As the water boiled and she made up the pot, she heard the creak of the stairs and Amit appeared. He saw the pot on the table.

"Oh, lovely. I could do with a cup," he said. He yawned and stretched. "Rian had so many questions for me tonight, and he tried to talk me into one more story. He has quite the inquisitive mind," he said proudly.

"I wonder where he gets that from," MC smirked.

Amit came to press a kiss to her cheek. "He has your thirst for rule breaking though, don't think I haven't noticed."

MC gave him her most innocent smile. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

He slid his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her neck. "You have a wild streak within you my love, it was part of the attraction," he said. "You were so wild and carefree, like some fairy tale creature who came to save us, and then you stole my heart."

MC glowed under his words and fiddled with the front of his shirt. "If you are trying to seduce me, Amit, then it's working," she smirked.

"Really?" His eyebrows lifted and his hands dared slide a little lower, over her bottom and hips. He kissed her neck again.

MC smiled. "Hmm, keep talking."

"Talking? Surely, there are far more fun and intriguing things to do with my mouth than talk," he murmured. He gently sucked at her neck, moving his mouth downwards, still sucking.

MC gave a little gasp, her head tilting to allow him more access. His hand dragged up her nightdress and he smoothed his palm over the skin of her thigh and hip. Amit was a very considerate and gentle lover, it was not often he did anything to surprise her. But he seemed rather fiery this evening.

"Are you feeling naughty, my love?" She teased.

He moaned in agreement and slid his hand between her thighs. "You are so beautiful, skin so tempting," he groaned. He slid two fingers inside her and MC felt her desire begin to spiral into a lovely burn. "I love how your body welcomes me."

He shifted and grabbed her about the waist, lifting her to sit on the edge of the kitchen table, pushing up her nightdress to expose her to him. He licked his lips, his eyes glazed with desire. "Amit!" She gasped, surprised.

He sank to his knees, gripping her thighs and buried his face into her folds, his tongue swirling and teasing. MC gave a quiet cry of surprised delight, her hands gripping the edge of the table. What had come over her husband? He was not usually like this!

As his mouth worked, sending shivers of delight through her, she tried to recall a time when they had done anything like this anywhere other than a bed. Amit was quite proper, and could be shy, sweet, when it came to sex. But this? Wow. And MC was certainly not complaining.

Her fingers reached to comb through the silky softness of his hair, her breaths coming quicker as she climbed to a release. As she shuddered around him, panting softly, she expected him to take her up the stairs. But he did not.

MC watched, amazed as he undid his trousers just enough to release the swollen shaft of his arousal. He lined up to enter her, right there at the edge of the table and she moaned as he filled her.

She let her head fall back, ready and willing for the familiar feel of him, but then had to grab the edge of the table as he began to thrust, hard. Her mouth fell open and she stared at him, at the intense look of lust on his face, the way his lips parted as he panted.

"Amit," she breathed. "My goodness!"

"Gods, my love," he groaned. He picked up the pace, his hands gripping and pulling her closer as he thrust again and again.

She was teetering on the edge of the table, the tea cups rattling in their saucers. She was breathless, aroused beyond belief at her husband's lust. Her gaze flicked towards the stairs in fear of waking little Rian, her ears attuned to the sounds of little feet. But they were not disturbed.

Amit climaxed, burying himself deeply inside of her with a groan. He wiped a hand over his face, beads of sweat had formed at his temples from his rigorous pace. "Forgive me, my love," he panted. "I was quite overcome with desire for you. I could not wait until you were abed."

MC pulled him close to press a soft kiss to his lips. She smiled, brushing her nose against his. "It seems I am not the only one with a mind for mischief," she whispered. "I quite like your naughty side."

He blushed a little. "You do? I was afraid you would think I was behaving like a rogue," he said.

"Oh, believe me, it was very roguish," she grinned. She kissed him again. "Maybe next time we can try it out with a different piece of furniture. What say you to that, my lovable rogue?"

His cheeks were blushing, but his smile was quite curious. "I say that might be a fine idea. But, may I have my cup of tea first?"

MC chuckled and held him close. "Of course."

[queen0fm0nsterz]

Thoughts on how TSON will tie into the lore of LN3?

As of the location of the last episode, as well as explaining some more small chunks of lore and locations to expand the world, I think TSON is preparing us already for what we will see next with Low and Alone. Give us something to expect, as well as a minimal explanation of how the Nowhere works, because this is information we need to know for Low and Alone's story to make sense.

Six's story, which was the main plot line of Little Nights up until now, explained how she travelled the world only to end up right at the place waiting for her. A destructive cycle of events that had set locations (the Pale City, the Tower, the Maw -- the Nest being a small detour but an interesting addition to the bunch) and events. Whether you believe Six left the Maw or not (I like to think the former), hers was a story about losing a part of herself to the world she tried to desperately to flee, and while she "won" that piece back, she will never be the same again. It did not necessarely need to elaborate on whether the world itself was her "home" or not -- though it was always strongly implied it was not.

It did try, though. The discontinued comics were an attempt at showcasing that the world beyond the Maw was vast, and that there was even ANOTHER world beyond that same dimension, with the tales of the Refugee Boy and the Humpback Girl respectively. However, at the time, it was confusionary: we didn't know anything but the Maw, so many fans misconstrued what was trying to come across, and ultimately this partially led to the decisions that had the comics be discontinued and the DLC be made instead.

The podcast to me is just that: to make up for those discontinued comics. Some of these storylines sound very similar to the ones you would read about in the Little Nightmares comics in structure: I would not be surprised to find some concepts from them were reused, modified to fit the plot of the podcast and even added to the lore of Little Nights III.

A lot of people seem to think that Mirror Man and North Wind will both make an appearance and frankly, I can see why. I am leaning more strongly on Mirror Man: I wish to see him in action in his own realm considering Low's abilities.

I've heard some concerns about the game potentially reusing the comic characters, but personally I find it a brilliant opportunity to expand on them. Mirror Man in particular is a... blank slate, essentially. He does have a minimum of characterization (<- post where I analyse just that) but besides that you could go wild with him. I'm interested to see if they do bring him forward.

Anyhow, sorry for derailing. As of episode four, we have been brought to a location that seems to match the circus we see in the trailer of Little Nightmares III. Considering the information we are given, it seems that it is suspended in the sky, with it being a literal ship floating above land.

(Two images depicting the "carnival" as seen in the trailer [top] and the steam page for LN III [bottom])

The idea of such a location is an interesting one and, considering the nature of the Spiral, possibly not that far out of reach. It was mentioned that Low and Alone would be travelling behind the Spiral... considering the nature of the Necropolis, which was mentioned to be a city powered by wind, I wonder if the spiral is... a giant hurricane. Or storm. And the locations are all in the middle of it - in its eye, stacked on different points in altitude.

It would be just as Noone said if that was to be the case: places who are on top of each other, like the building she's in, but that do not work together. I think that for this reason, the locations we have seen in the podcast such as the Stone Giant and the Mall might return later on as locations in LN III in some shape of form.

... We have seen a stone giant already...

.. although it would be more metaphorical than literal in this case as the Stone Giant was not really described as a giant baby thing, and the location is different, but you get what I mean hopefully!

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 29 - Finale (short month = 3 days in one 😘)

February Daily Series - 1872 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

The morning sun began filtering through the lace curtains an hour ago, but Lily couldn’t bring herself to disturb Pandora when she looked so peaceful. She’d curled up against Lily’s side over the course of the night with one hand shoved under her pillow and the other hooked over Lily’s arm. Even in sleep, she was determined to keep her close.

After she’d convinced Pandora to take the paracetamol last night – and to text Regulus an explanation for her injuries – Lily helped her into bed and laid beside her. It didn’t take long for Pandora to crash afterwards, but Lily spent another couple of hours on her phone.

Once Remus texted her that he had everything under control in the reception area, she began her research. Lily searched for flats near Leicester Square and applied for open positions in any and every plant-adjacent field that she could find. She knew that it would still take time, but it was worth a try. Every time doubts crept in, her gaze drifted over to Pandora while the psychic’s advice repeated in her head.

Follow my intuition. Be open to possibilities. Appreciate the beauty.

In the morning’s light, her muddled thoughts were slowly settling into a plan. A plausible plan, at that. If Lily was patient, she could swing a move to London in about six months. She just hoped that Pandora was willing to wait for her.

Pandora hummed, snuggling closer. “I can feel you staring, ma chérie.”

“Just thinking.”

Her long, pale lashes fluttered open, then Pandora blinked until her eyes adjusted to the light. She pushed up onto her elbow and leaned closer to study Lily’s face. After a brief pause, she said, “I don’t know this look, yet. What are you thinking about?”

“London.”

“Oh, London! Of course.” Pandora’s face lit up as she wriggled closer still. “What are you thinking about London?”

Lily chewed her bottom lip as she gathered the nerve to tell her the plan she’d come up with. Now that she had Pandora staring at her hopefully, six months seemed so long. It was a bit ridiculous to expect someone to tolerate six months of long-distance after one day together.

Are we together? Am I making more of this than she is?

“Hold on, I know this one,” Pandora said, circling her hand in front of Lily’s face. “Now we’re spiralling. Tell me about London, Lily.”

She swallowed hard and looked down at her where her hand lay splayed on the quilt. Lily flexed her fingers a few times and tried not to let the real panic set in. “I don’t want to be presumptuous about things, but I’ve started looking for a job, and a flat, in London.”

“That’s good news, so why do you look worried?”

“It’s likely to take some time to set things up. As in…six months?” Lily said tentatively, glancing up.

Pandora’s face cycled through several expressions before settling on a calm smile. Then, she leaned in and gently rested her forehead against Lily’s. “How did you come up with six months?”

“It’s an estimate, but I think it’s realistic. I applied at a few florists, markets, and several gardens. I’m sure they have several applicants to go through,but if I secure a position, I can flatshare for a while. There are quite a few people looking for roommates.”

“Mm-hmm, that’s a very logical plan.”

Lily tapped her fingers on the quilt idly, waiting for her to comment on the timeline. When she didn’t, Lily cleared her throat and added, “I know six months is a long time and if you don’t think it will work–”

“Six months is a long time.”

“Right. Well, I realise that could be frustrating. If that’s too long, I understand.”

Pandora brushed her nose against Lily’s. “Too long for what?”

“Long-distance…dating?” Lily suggested.

“I see. And if I said that I don’t do long-distance dating? Then what?”

“At all?”

Pandora shook her head slowly, pressing lightly against Lily’s forehead. “It wouldn’t work.”

“Oh.”

Lily knew that she wasn’t hiding her disappointment well, but she couldn’t guard her reaction with Pandora this close anyway. She should have known better than to expect so much from someone that she met yesterday. It was foolish, really.

I know better. It was too easy. Nothing is this easy.

“Which is why you’re moving in with me,” Pandora said matter-of-factly. She kissed the tip of Lily’s nose and scoffed, “Six months, honestly.”

“I-I…what?” Lily spluttered, jerking back.

Pandora grinned mischievously as she draped an arm around Lily’s hip and pulled her closer. “You heard me correctly. I have two more days here in Wales, so I suggest you sort things out quickly because I’m bringing you home with me.”

“How? I-I can’t…you-what?”

“I’ll stuff you in my carry-on if necessary.”

Lily stared at her incredulously. She couldn’t be serious. There was no possible way that Pandora actually expected her to move into her London flat in two days.

“Close your mouth, ma chérie. I can’t kiss you if you're gawping at me.”

“Pandora! That’s absurd! We’ve known each other for one day and you don’t even know much about me, or I about you. This could be a complete disaster! No, this will be a complete disaster!”

“Or, it will be brilliant. Which scenario would you prefer? A disaster or brilliant?” Pandora said, eyebrows lifting inquisitively. “I’m choosing to believe it will be brilliant.”

Lily closed, then opened, then closed her mouth again before blinking silently in confusion. Her mind was spinning fast enough to power a small aeroplane and its white noise raged in her ears. This was mad! Completely, absolutely, absurdly mad!

She is “choosing” to believe it will be brilliant? Can she do that? Can I do that?

“What about your flatmates? Won’t they have an issue with me crashing on your couch?” she insisted.

Pandora shrugged, then reached over Lily for her phone. She winced a bit as she settled back against the pillows. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

Lily glanced at her screen and was startled to find a FaceTime call queued up. She quickly sat up to straighten out her jumper and smooth down her flyaways. Never had she been more grateful for Mary plaiting her hair before a festival.

A grumbling sound came from Pandora’s phone, followed by a heavy sigh. “It’s too early, Panda. Why are we–”

“Good morning, Reg!” she said cheerily. “Does James happen to be close by?”

Lily peered over her shoulder in time to see a brown hand raise briefly in front of the screen. Regulus’s eye roll was annoyed, but affectionate. Pandora’s grin widened both in person and on screen.

“Good morning, James.”

“Señoras, always a pleasure,” he mumbled sleepily.

Regulus fought hard to contain a smile, then gave in as he mussed James’s curls fondly. The movement was barely visible on-screen. “Why are we gathered here at the arsecrack of…six? Six? Really, Panda?”

“Lily insisted that I get my flatmates’ approval, so this is me getting your approval.”

He glanced from one to the other and frowned. “Approval for what?”

“I’m bringing Lily home with me, to stay,” Pandora announced.

“That’s not what–”

Pandora shushed her, then pointed at Regulus. “Is that a problem…flatmate?”

“No, that’s fine. I don’t know where she’s going to sleep, but–”

“She can have your room,” James said.

“What? Why would she have my room?”

“Because you’re coming home with me.”

Regulus threw his hands up and the phone went flying across the bed. It landed face up, wobbled, then fell over the side and onto the floor. Suddenly, a soggy black dog nose appeared on screen. A slew of curses in what Lily presumed was both French and Spanish erupted as James and Regulus scrambled after it.

“Not my phone, Padfoot! James grab him!”

Lily gestured at the screen. “See? Disaster.”

“Not at all. Reg said it was fine, so now we just need to check with Dorcas.” Pandora ended the call and pulled up another number. She tapped the FaceTime button and turned to Lily. “When is your birthday?”

“My birthday? January 30th.”

Pandora pursed her lips together and nodded. “I can see that.”

When the call connected, Lily ducked out of frame. She didn’t know Dorcas and didn’t want to intrude on the woman’s private phone call before they were introduced. Honestly, it was weird enough with James and Regulus still in bed.

“Good morning, Cas!” Pandora chirped.

“Morning, love. You’re up earlier than usual.” Dorcas’s voice was warm and considerably more awake than Regulus had been.

“I am highly motivated. Do you mind if I bring Lily home with me, to stay?”

Lily noticed that she actually asked Dorcas, rather than tell her. The relationship was clearly a bit different than hers with Regulus. Interesting.

“Is that the girl you’re obsessed with?”

“Yes! She’s here, do you want to see?”

Before Lily could object, Pandora turned the phone toward her. She managed a nervous smile and waved at the pretty black woman on screen. “Hello, I am so sorry to intrude on your morning–”

“Cute. Vibe check, Pandora?” Dorcas said curtly.

“Aquarius, botanist, youngest child, yellow aura, and she pulled The Fool on a one card reading at the festival last night.”

Dorcas’s eyebrows flew to her hairline as she studied Lily with interest. “All of that and a botanist, you say?”

“Yes! She’s so lovely and she’s been saving to move to London for ages, so it would be perfect!”

Dorcas shrugged. “Fine by me. Maybe she can salvage those plants in the living room.”

“Thank you, Dorcas! See you this weekend!”

“Mm-hmm, have fun. Nice to meet you, Lily.”

Lily stuttered through an appropriate response, then the call ended. She turned to stare at Pandora in disbelief. “I don’t understand. What does that mean? What just happened?”

“You passed the vibe check, so you’re in!” Pandora tossed the phone aside and gingerly climbed into Lily’s lap. She cupped her hands around Lily’s cheeks and leaned in to peck at her lips. “It means that you’re all mine…if you want to be.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Don’t overthink it, ma chérie,” Pandora said, stealing small kisses at the corner of her lips. “Trust yourself to know what you want, and take it.”

Lily searched her face frantically for any sign of doubt, but all she found was pure adoration and a little mischief. She couldn’t believe she was even considering this. It was completely out of character and…and…risky. The psychic did say that logic prevented her from taking risks.

Follow my intuition. Be open to possibilities. Appreciate the beauty.

“What do you want, Lily?” Pandora asked, her nose brushing Lily’s.

Lily wrapped her arms around Pandora’s waist, closed the distance, and kissed her. She swallowed Pandora’s delighted noise before deepening the kiss slowly and intentionally. Pandora melted against her, their bodies aligning perfectly like they were made for each other.

She knew what she wanted, she just had to take it. Lily gently eased back and pressed small kisses along Pandora’s jawline. When she reached her ear, Lily nipped at her earlobe and whispered, “I’m all yours, cariad.”

Pandora squealed and tackled her onto the bed.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

When you are writing a new chapter for a fic, how do you decide what to put in, and what to leave out?

I see a lot of advice about killing your darlings - whittling the scene down until it contains only what's necessary to advance the plot.

But I also see advice that says it's okay to include more than this, because you need to advance the characters as well, by giving them quiet moments in between all of the plot advancing parts.

I really struggle to find the balance. I love writing the quiet moments, and fleshing the characters out, but sometimes these moments run away on me, and I end up with a bloated mess that barely advances the plot at all.

Do you have a process or a rule-of-thumb you follow, to help you decide what does or doesn't make the cut?

How easy do you find it to remove stuff later, when you realize the story is better without it? Do you cry and have wine while you bury your dead, or are you a ruthless assassin? :)

Oh man, great question.

I’m going to answer for what for my original fiction. I don’t heavily edit my fanfics in any meaningful capacity, as any of my readers can attest, since that is my hobby and editing is work. Also, since it is my hobby, I am pretty self indulgent with what I include. I meander and wander all over the place with my plots and don’t keep them as tight as they probably need to be.

Exhibit A, the visual representation of the plot of Thus, Always 2.0 (one line being present day and the second being the past):

But for my original fiction, there’s a very long, drawn out process of editing.

For House of No Return, the current book (known as The Venetians in my tags), I wrote out the first draft. In that draft I put all the self indulgent stuff I wanted. Character studies, side plots, random asides, plot cul-de-sacs, and so on.

Then, when done, I rewrote the entire thing. Top to bottom second draft. This is because, by the time I was done with draft one, I knew my characters a lot better than when I started. I knew, more clearly, the story I wanted to tell. I had a better vision of how the plot should work.

Once the second (or third) draft is done, I let it sit. Ideally, you should let it sit for a few months. I don’t have patience and am riddled with a deep need to always be writing, so I can usually only make it a few weeks.

When I take it back out, I print out the manuscript and read it in one or two sittings. This is because I need to remember what the fuck I was doing. As I read, I make margin notes of where I bump or where things drag a bit. My second read through is much more methodical. I sit with a note book and jot out a detailed outline as I read. When I eventually type them up they usually look something like this:

As I read through the outline, that’s where I can see if there are baggy parts that need trimming. When I note them, I decide whether to completely remove, or shorten, or shift to another part of the story, or if I can convey any central information in other areas.

Sometimes colour coding helps – highlighting all the parts that are faster paced in red, the slower bits in green, the pure character study bits in blue (or what have you). The visual representation helps me, at least, see if there’s a part that’s bunched up with only one colour and may need to be broken out a bit.

I make edits to my outline in blue, usually, of what needs to be added or changed when I go to do the next big rewrite.

--

Throughout this whole outline review process, I’m also thinking through what sort of plot pattern/design best serves the story. There are a lot out there and each has a purpose and can strengthen aspects of the story that’s being told.

Good reference: Meander, Spiral, Explode: Design and Pattern in Narrative by Jane Alison.  

For House of No Return, it’s a pretty classic mountain form: start | rising action | point no return | climax | resolution.

Something a bit like this with the little plateaus representing times when the plot slows for a bit to allow the reader a break and an opportunity to sit with a character or an emotion or some new information.

These breaks can also ratchet up tension and help keep people on the edge of their seat. The horror genre is a great example of this. You know that when we’re having a quiet character moment, or a humourous moment, we’re about to get something horrific on the other side of it and we’re in trepidation until it happens. But the book can’t be all horrific moments or else the audience gets bored.

(Unless the author is Doing Something/There’s a Purpose Being Served in having 85,000-100,000 words of only horrific moments. Which can abosolutely be the case! Again, it’s about what you’re trying to do, how to best tell the story, and fundamentally what that story needs to be.)

Grief and trauma writing also benefit from the breaks. I think about this in fics where it’s all bleak torture and there’s no resting or lighter moments—it’s hard on the audience. Which, again, can be the author’s intent! And that’s fine! But usually if you want to keep people going with you on the journey you need to give them breaks. That is just reality.

So, when writing the classic model I would say write, write, write. Get every thing onto the page. Every little indulgement moment, every little character study etc.

Then think about how you want the story to be paced. Do you want it a heart pounding fast paced piece? Then yeah, trim it down to mostly bare bones with just enough breaks for character study/get the audience invested in who they’re reading about and to give them a bit of a breather. But it should be super tight, over all.

Steep, steep, steep – little moments here and there for a break – then shattering fall and people should be reading going “what the fuuuuck is going to happen next??” (Grady Hendrix is a master of this.)

 Some traditional mountains, though, are slower.

There's a long, langurous start. We’re all along for a gentle ride then it begins to build bit by bit until we realize we’re riding down the Tuscan hillside in a cart with no breaks.

This is the sort of story where you can really relish your character studies and soft moments between people and little side bits. But you do need to keep enough movement to keep the audience interested. This is one that is harder to pull off because the balance can be tricky.

I tend to write like this. Hilary Mantel has books that hit this kind of approach. Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s Mexican Gothic is a good example of a slow burn start but a good ride at the end. Laura Purcell’s The Silent Companions is another example.

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All that said, not all stories need to follow the traditional approach! Some are meant to be tangled meditations. A lot of weaving, a lot of introspection, the story is more about the journey and not the destination. Sometimes the plots look a little like this:

Peak Literary Experimental Fiction shit right here. This can be a lot of character study, a lot of philosophical musings, a lot tangents or backtracking or jumping around a little. Justin Torres’ Blackouts is a great example of a meandering story that is as much about the characters and their conversations as it is about queerness and history.

Other stories are meant to be rolling hills or waves: up and down, up and down.

Jane Austin has a bit of a wave quality to some of her stories, not all, but some. Long, drawn out family epics that span generations tend to have this quality to them. Books like Pillars of the Earth tend to be more wavey than mountain climax.

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Anyway. I've done a diversion myself. Back to editing.

When I’m doing my trimming, I don’t have an exact process for determining what makes the cut or what stays. I go with my gut on a lot of it. Sometimes, there are scenes that are hitting the same note but coming at it in different ways.

Cristof’s anxiety over his friend’s gambling addiction, and his guilt around feeling as if he is enabling it, is something I overwrote in the first few drafts because I was trying to understand the psychology of their friendship and Cristof’s own inner demons. Therefore, as I trimmed, I picked three key things that the audience needed to know about Cristof and Jacopo and made sure those were captured. I cut and trimmed accordingly.

However, I do have some babies that get reused in different places once I realize the original scene wasn’t working.

This stupid joke was originally in a completely different scene and was said by different characters but that scene wasn’t working and so I had to cut it. But I was very enamoured with this little interaction, so I found a way to incorporate it.

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It’s also important to remember that some character studies/the resting pauses can be brief. By all means write out the full seven page version but I bet it’s possible to trim it down to a really powerful short beat that can pack a bit of a punch. Writing out the full seven pages is sometimes necessary to get at the heart of what you’re trying to say. Then cut it back.

I had a full multi-page version of this paragraph:

But it’s a rest-beat in the middle of the apothecary/barbershop scene that is moving the plot along, and therefore this memory/character beat needed to be tight. Still, we get a bit of a glimpse at Cristof and Nicolo through it, and while it might not seem important on the surface, we do need to care about these two idiots and the fact that they’re dumb about each other and in love.  

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Quiet moments can also be interspersed within action. You can weave them through, so you have:

Active Scene/Plot Moving

Restful introspection or memory

Back to the Active Scene.

If done right it can give a bit of a melodious, wave-like quality to what you’re writing. It’s not for every story, nor every scene, and shouldn’t be overused (I may be guilty of that), but it allows you to still get in those meaningful character moments without stopping the plot too much.

As for the ease with which I kill darlings? Depends on the darling. Some are easier than others. Some I like, but if I can incorporate the important bits in another fashion then I’m fine with it. The more I write, the more I edit, the more ruthless I become.

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A lot of this is, fundamentally, all about practice and doing it a lot. And also all writing rules aren’t rules so much as broad guidelines and each story has its own needs and requirements to make it work.

Apologies for the long reply. I'm not sure it's what you're after but I hope it helps. There is, unfortunately, no "quick trick" that I have to do it. It's really just a very involved process.

[misscammiedawn]

50 Days of HypnoKink - Day 30: VR Headsets

Alignment: 80% Bottom

First off, obligatory link to Snatch & Grab for a "based on true events" story that involves tying a dolly up and putting her in a VR headset. Thanks as always to @redcap3 for writing and for any parts of the story which may have happened in reality.

Link also to Charmed 2023 Day 2 where Daja plugged me in to a VR headset for programming.

I am so so so lucky to get to experience this!

Throughout my entire life it has been such an evocative image. VR headsets forcing a person to look in to a spiral. Even if they slammed their eyes shut they'll still feel the light blinking against their eyelids. The audio would pour into their ears. You're stuck. Helpless. Trapped and subject to the power of the programming.

Like I'm not a drone fan but there is something so so lovely about that.

*I just said "I'm not a drone fan" and imagined being in a skintight zentai suit while plugged in to a headset and let me tell you, that is QUITE the reaction for someone who isn't a fan. Because WANT*

So for those who want to do this, please check out the Mind Melting Massaging Machine. All the info you need is here on Sleepyhead's Mind Control Games wiki

MMM allows you to put on custom spirals and audios. I have put a few together before.

At Charmed 2023 Daja put me in a headset with a pre-scripted 15 minute session that MELTS MY HEART! And my mind! I was a puddle!

I write about that a bunch in the Charmed entry I linked above!

VR headsets are just-- if you can sideload it on an Oculus it's a really good use of time and money.

Here! Have a video of me getting absolutely OBLITERATED by a binaural drill that was designed to hollow me out <3

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Day 29: Safe Spaces

FULL SCHEDULE MASTER POST

Day 31: Auto-Fractionation