#i just keep thinking about the visceral details of this moment

[citrine-elephant]

might have a problem cuz i can't stop watching this

[shy-writer-999]

All Bark, No Bite?

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

A/N: Mostly smut. ~4500 words. Strawhat reader (afab) x Ace, who is visiting the ship for a while. When Ace finds someone who can match his banter, what goes down? ( ´ ω ` )

CW: dirty talk, fingering, P in V, prone bone.

All Bark, No Bite?

The flirtation with Ace had been getting ridiculous recently. You’d both been dancing around the idea of fucking each other senseless for weeks. Part of the fun was the teasing—Ace felt like he was going to explode any time he saw you, and his presence stoked a fire in your core any time he was around. The banter itself was enough to make him hard and you wet, respectively. And sure, you’d make out a couple of times, he’d gotten handsy (with your eager consent), he even fingered you once—but these events happened once every blue moon, and your brief trysts never got past that threshold.

At one point the suggestive back-and-forth and lingering touches transformed into shameless horniness. Any chance he’d get, Ace would make you blush, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and then he’d turn around and talk about how he was going to fuck you into oblivion someday. You were counting down the hours until the perfect moment presented itself, and, of course, it did.

You shot Ace one too many lust-filled glances one night, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. You were wearing the shorts that you knew drove him rabid, so short that he got a tiny peek of your ass cheeks (Sanji loved the shorts too, coincidentally). Combined with your tank top and the shape of your breasts more visible because you weren’t wearing a bra… Ace could feel himself going feral.

He was sitting next to you at the dinner table, while the rest of the crew was rowdily laughing at Luffy almost choking on a chicken bone because he had scarfed it down too fast. Leaning to the side, Ace murmured something your ear. At the same time, his hand crept under the table and squeezed your thigh.

His comment wasn’t completely out of left field—earlier that night, he complimented your shorts, and you responded something along the lines of “Oh yeah? Wanna see more?” He had rolled his eyes at you in the moment, saying (sarcastically) “mmmhmm, sure” but afterwards he was shaking his head and laughing at himself over how viscerally down bad he was for you.

So, when he leaned over and whispered the following comment in your ear, you giggled. “How much you wanna bet that I’ll fuck you better than anyone has before?”

Now you were the one rolling your eyes. “Fat chance, Ace. In your dreams.”

“What, you don’t want to?” He feigned surprise and hurt, keeping his voice low and hushed.

You gave him an annoyed look and cocked your head slightly. He knew you wanted to. It was fucking obvious.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Ace, it’s just that I think you’re all bark and no bite. Best dick I’ve ever had? Yeah right.”

A grin took over his face, nose scrunching up just slightly, those adorable freckles winking at you. “You want to find out?”

“I know you want to.”

Ace got up without a word and went to wash his now empty plate. You were puzzled at the lack of response, staring at his back, annoyed, until he turned and flicked his chin in the direction of the hallway. Message received. He put his plate on the drying rack and then sauntered down the hallway in question, disappearing as he turned a corner.

You got up and took care of your plate, following in Ace’s footsteps from a couple minutes before. As you left the dining area you sent Robin and Nami a small wave. Robin smiled and Nami gave you a wink. They knew they would hear every detail later.

When you walked down the hallway, you figured Ace would either be in your cabin or his (guest) cabin. Your door was open, light on just how you left it, Ace he was nowhere to be seen. So, he must be in his own cabin. But as you approached, you could see that his door was ajar, and it was pitch black inside. When you reached the room, you cracked the door some more and peered in. “Ace? Where the fu—”

Mid-question, a hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed your wrist, pulling you. You couldn’t see anything—the shutter on the room’s porthole was pulled shut, the light turned off. The only thing you could feel as you groped around in the dark was Ace’s hand on your wrist, which pulled you closer to what you assumed was the bed. You could hear the muted sounds of blankets rustling in front of you. He let go of your hand.

“C’mere.” His playful voice was a couple feet in front of you.

“I’m trying to, but I can’t fucking see anything!” You snapped, fumbling around in front of you until your foot hit his and you toppled over. He caught you by your waist and guided you down to straddle his lap.

“If you would have waited a minute, I would have given you a light.” He flashed a finger, a small flame burning on the tip. You saw his gorgeous smile just barely before he extinguished it. As his grip grew tighter on your waist, he purred, his face centimeters away from yours. “I want you.”

“I know you do, Ace” you laughed at him. He knew you well enough by now that he could hear you smiling through your voice.

“Please.” His voice was so sweet and pleading, veiled notes of desire behind his honeyed tone.

Leaning forward, you gave into a temptation that you knew would only lead somewhere hot and steamy (and you had no problem with that). It had been far too long since you locked lips.

You’d never get over how soft his lips were and how good of a kisser he was. While the jury was still out on whether or not he fucked you better than anyone else, you knew for a fact that he kissed you better than anyone else.

The kisses started out tame, but you could tell how badly he wanted more. You cupped the side of his face with one hand and threw your other arm around his neck, pressing your body into his. Ace’s hands around your waist crept down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass—extremely accessible through those short shorts. You could feel his half-chub forming in his shorts, starting to press onto the denim that covered your crotch.

Ace’s tongue parted your lips and explored your mouth. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair and you could feel his erection, fully hard now, starting to slowly grind up into you. He was letting out puffs of air into your mouth, hands kneading your ass, pulling on it. You moved your hands from the nape of his neck and reached for the hem of your tank top. When you peeled it off, you threw it across the room.

Ace was about to start massaging your bare breasts, but you shoved his shoulders so forcefully he fell back onto the covers.

“Feeling feisty, aren’t we?” Ace’s smirk was almost as audible as the smug chuckle he let out.

“Don’t move.” You got off his lap and shimmed out of your shorts and panties. When you had freed yourself of them, you leaned forward to tug on Ace’s shorts and the waistband of his boxer briefs; he helped speed the process along, and pulled off his shirt while he was at it.

Climbing back on the bed, you straddled Ace, cowgirl style, as he watched you from below. You felt like he deserved to get teased a bit, since he had such a big mouth and cock. Adjusting so his cock was laying flat on your lips, you started rubbing up and down it, bare pussy grinding on his shaft. At the same time, you braced yourself on his abdomen with your palms. You used his washboard abs for leverage, to adjust how hard or soft you grinded into him. Ace’s hands alternated between squishing handfuls of your ass to gripping your hips tightly.

Ace took one of his fingers and held it before you, a small flame dancing on his fingertip again. The light cast red tones and shadows on your body—he felt a sense of reverence as he watched you grind on him, head thrown back, like you were something holy, some work of art ripped from the frame of a renaissance painting or a sculpture from classical antiquity brought to life. Your hair, your curves, the way you braced yourself on him, the way your hips rolled ever so slightly to elicit the most pleasure from him… he was in denial about how intensely and ardently he liked you. He was obsessed with you, entranced by you, he couldn’t get you out of his head ever since he started spending time on the ship. Your flirting sessions and the occasional horny tryst were killing him inside because all he wanted was to be close to you. Sure, he wanted to fuck your brains out, but the feeling he got while he admired you in that muted light was something akin to awe. The moment felt surreal. He extinguished the flame.

“Princess, I won’t be able to take much more of that.” His voice was strained.

“I’m just getting started, Ace, sheesh. Don’t get too excited already, big boy.”

The feeling of your clit rubbing up and down, snagging on the head of his cock sent ripples of pleasure through both of you. It was so easy to get off when Ace was underneath you, like putty in your hands. He was trying to keep his groans back, trying to push them down in his throat; he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing he was enveloped in pleasure after less than five minutes of this. But the precum was already leaking out of him, a fact that did not escape you as you grinded your core on his shaft.

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me.” He croaked, his voice was almost hoarse. He wanted to fuck you immediately—either that, or he’d need to finger you or eat you out, ASAP. He couldn’t take five more minutes of this. He was going to cum soon if you kept it up, and if he came before he even got the chance to fuck you, he knew he’d never live it down.

“Oh, you’re falling apart already Ace? Weren’t you just saying you’d fuck me better than anyone I’ve ever been with?” Your tone was scornful, but you knew he’d get off on that. He loved any sort of sass or brattiness, he liked whining and begging, too, and his heart went crazy inside any time you made pathetic and pleading puppy-dog eyes at him.

“So, you just want to rub yourself on my cock forever and you won’t even let me fuck you with it?” Ace always returned your sass tenfold. His deep voice was incredulous and almost mocking you, but for some reason it felt like he was doting on you.

“Mmmmhhmm, Ace, and you’re just going to have to deal with that.”

He finally let out a groan. It was feeling dangerously good. Concerningly good. The slick oozing out of you and coating his shaft wasn’t making things any easier.

Ace squeezed his eyes shut and tried to control his breathing in an attempt to fend off the mounting desire-filled craze that was about to overtake him.

“You’ve got about thirty seconds left before I fuck you senseless, darling.” He practically growled at you—his voice sounded different; more desperate, deeper, and gruff.

You quipped back scathingly with a laugh, continuing to glide back and forth on his cock leisurely. “Ace, you’ll cum from me humping your dick before you even get the chance. I’d like to see you try.”

In a split second, everything changed. Because the room was pitch black, the only thing you could go off was the sensation of being thrown around.

Ace grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over, almost knocking the wind out of you. Your stomach was flat on the bed now and Ace was on top of you, his cock throbbing, pressing on your ass. His body was almost completely flush with yours, except he was bracing himself with a hand on either side of your head. His knees were outside of yours, firmly pressing your legs together.

“What was that?” He murmured, close to your ear. “You’d like to see me try?”

You let out a muffled sound, having to pick your head up a bit to be audible amidst the plush covers and blankets. “Yeah, Ace. Try.”

He reached a hand down to push your thighs apart slightly. Combined with you arching your back, he had better access now. He crept his hand down to your core and swiped two fingers through your folds—you were dripping wet, and when his fingers touched your bare folds, your hips bucked inadvertently.

“Now who’s the one gettin’ all worked up, sugar?” He taunted you, repeating his movement down your lips and to your clit a couple more times.

You rolled your eyes, like he could see them. “I’m hardly worked up, Ace. You’ll be able to tell when I am.”

“Oh, is that so?” He teased and slowly inserted his middle finger, his palm coming to rest on your skin. You were so wet that his finger slid in without any resistance. Your walls clenched around him. As he curled his finger and explored your insides, he pressed and roamed, trying to find your sensitive spot.

Now, you were the one trying to stifle your own sounds of pleasure. You feared that you were the one who was all bark and no bite—if his mere finger felt this good inside of you, who knows what it’d feel like when his cock was buried as deep as it could get.

Sure enough, Ace found your g-spot quickly and started relentlessly applying pressure. Your hips jerked up every time he pressed it, and you started to feel so good that your sighs and muffled groans were turning into full-blown mewls. You were one good g-spot press away from moaning his name with reckless abandon.

Based on the way you were squirming and clenching around his finger, Ace could tell that he could make you cum within a couple minutes if he kept going. He was painfully aroused; his cock was aching for friction. He wanted you so bad that it hurt.

He took his finger out and leaned down more, pressing his chest on your back, positioning his cock right at your entrance. He ran his tip up and down through your folds, rubbing it on your clit for a second before returning to tease around your slit.

“Fuck, Ace,” you moaned his name for the first time and he felt his heart stop. “I want it.”

He felt like being a dick. Now that you were under him, sopping wet and moaning his name, he wanted to take his turn playing the part of the bratty tease.

“What was that, pretty? Couldn’t hear you.”

“Fuck,” you groaned in frustration. He was going to drive you insane if he didn’t put his cock in soon. You were dying for it. “Ace, I want you. Now. Please.”

That was all he needed to hear before he started to press his tip through your folds and into your cunt. He was stretching you out and it felt so damn good. Your walls shuddered around him and his cock twitched in response. When he bottomed out, his chest was pressed directly onto your back, weighing you down so much that it was difficult to catch a breath. Ace's weight, his cock, and the feeling of him breathing on your neck all constituted an overwhelming sensation. In that moment, you would have done anything he told you to.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Ace rasped in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. He held still for a moment to feel you pulse around him and listen to your heartbeat below him.

“Ace, move,” you whined. You tried to move your hips up and down, desperate for him to start bringing his cock in and out. You were growing impatient. You could only handle so much teasing before you would start begging pitifully.

Ace obliged your entreaty, dragging his cock out of you slowly and then plunging it back in forcefully. He angled his hips down, getting the deepest possible angle that he could. His body was caging you in, hips pressing into yours. The weight of his body and the angle made you feel tighter and made his cock feel bigger than it already was.

He pulled out again slowly and plunged back in, hard and deep. You yelped and it turned into a moan. “Ace, fuck.”

“Nngghhhh, fuck, Y/N, your pussy is so tight.”

“You—already—said—that,” you struggled to spit out each word as he fucked you.

“I’ll say it as many times as I want,” he smirked in your ear and plunged into you particularly rough. Filthy sounds of pleasure left your mouth as a response. He was fucking you so well that you were beginning to lose touch with reality.

“Do you like that? Do you like when I fuck you like this, sweetheart?” His sugar-coated voice and the pet name went straight to your pussy. Every time he called you one of those adoring names he could feel your cunt pulse around him—your body was telling on you, letting him know how much you liked those affectionate names, even though you would never tell him how much they made your heart flutter.

“Gonna fuck you ‘till you can’t even talk,” he grunted between each word, pulling out slowly and fucking into you franticly the whole time.

You moaned into the sheets in front of you, grabbing handfuls of them and balling them up into your fists. The dirty talk continued from Ace as he got continuously more riled up. He knew you loved it.

“So wet for me, sweetheart,” his voice was rumbling from his chest and into your ear—you could feel it vibrate on your back as he thrusted into you. “Taking it so well. Taking it all for me. So fuckin’ hot.”

As Ace fucked you harder and deeper, he targeted your g-spot, drawing more pleasure from your already dripping cunt. He felt hot and stiff inside of you, and every time his tip and shaft pressed your sensitive spot like it was a button. Your toes curled in ecstasy and your thighs clamped closer together. Each progressive clamp of your thighs let Ace go deeper.

“Tell me how much you like it, baby,” he cooed, breath hot on your ear.

You didn’t know if you’d be able to squawk out a coherent sentence. But you were going to try, or else he would have something else to smirk over.

“F-feels so—so good, Ace, feels like—” your words got caught in your throat and turned into a sort of strangled moan, a noise so primal it made Ace feel like he was going crazy.

“My cock feels so good you can’t even talk? You like it that much?”

You clumsily attempted a nod, stopped by all the covers you were currently getting fucked into. A mewl would have to suffice.

“Aceee, fuck,” the noises were muffled, but Ace knew exactly what you were saying. It fueled him, goaded him into fucking you harder. He wanted you to melt in his touch completely, wanted your eyes to roll back into your head in pleasure. He wondered how good it would feel when you screamed his name and came on his cock. He was determined to find out.

“Your pussy feels so good on my cock, baby, juuussssttt like that.”

Ace slowed his hips down, exercising every bit of discipline he had to glide his cock in and out as slow as possible. For you, this speed was simply unacceptable. You needed more so badly that you were about to scream for it. Was he trying to edge you?

Right as you were going to feebly attempt to snap at him to fuck you better, you realized that he was leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your shoulder blade. He kissed up to your neck, kissed down your back as far as he could reach in this position, showering you in unexpected affection. It made your heart stop for a moment. Sure, he was cheeky and insolent in most interactions (in a way that you liked), but you always suspected that he really did have a soft spot for you. You could see it in his eyes whenever he spoke to you.

Ace slowed down his panting so he could murmur lightly in your ear, “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Vivid shades of pink and red started to spread over your cheeks. One of his hands crept towards yours and came to rest on top of it tenderly. You released your fistful of blankets and he intertwined his fingers through yours.

“So gorgeous it hurts,” his breath tickled your ear. He squeezed your hand, fucking you at a snail’s pace.

Holy shit, was Ace… making love to you? Was he funneling his affection towards you, letting you know how much he deeply cherished you, all while fucking your brains out? It seemed like the answer must be yes. Your heart did a flip.

“Ace,” you keened out, your blush and his adoration going to your head. You lifted and turned your head as much as you could amidst the plush blankets, so he could hear you better. “I want you.”

He squeezed your hand. “I know you do.”

Ace sped up his thrusts again, his grunts and groans filling the room along with your sweet sounds of pleasure and the wet sounds from your cunt. His hips rolled, his weight bore down on you, your gummy walls pulsed around his cock—you were both on the verge of orgasm, holding on for dear life. He desperately wanted to make you cum first. The thin façade of bragging rights aside, he just wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to wrench heaven from your core and see you writhe in pleasure from his touch—he wanted the satisfaction of knowing he did that.

Every pass of his cock in and out of you was mind-blowing. Oblivion was approaching, quickly. His pace was becoming haphazard, messy, and frenzied.

“Ace, Ace, I’m—I’m gonna cum, feels too good,” you whined.

“Go for it, doll, wanna feel you cream on my cock.” His voice was barely going in one ear and out the other; it gravelly and deep, coursing through your veins like blood. But you registered it enough to know that he wanted you to let go for him.

One good thrust later and you were riding the wave of all-encompassing pleasure so intensely that you felt like you were going to pass out. You started to squirm—he had brought you to your peak and pushed you over it, into a free fall of desire and bliss with no end in sight. The pitch black of the room emphasized the maddening euphoria crashing through your body, it coaxed sounds out of your mouth that you’d never heard before, ones you didn’t know you could make.

You moaned Ace’s name on repeat—screamed it, almost, and every time Ace heard that noise grace his ears, the coil inside of him tightened. Feeling you writhe under him, feeling you squeeze the ever-living fuck out of his hand, feeling you arch your back and your walls pulse… It was too much.

The coil inside of him went rigid and snapped. Ace convulsed, jerking his hips and bucking them down into you. “Fuuccckkkk, Y/N, fuck.” Pulling out of you with heaving breath, his cock shot milky white ropes that painted your ass and lower back.

Ace felt like he was floating. He came the hardest he ever experienced—he didn’t know it was possible to cum this explosively or feel this good.

He collapsed onto his side and positioned his body next to yours. Your gasps for air and heartbeats were in sync as you both came back to earth. You laid there for a moment.

Ace lit another tiny flame on his finger and studied your face. Your eyes were closed, mouth hanging open, pressed against the bedsheets. Your cheeks were ruddy, lips just as pretty as he remembered.

A smiled dusted your lips as you opened your eyes, half-lidded, to see him inches away from you. Ace’s eyes reflected the small fire burning in between you, his lips curled into that heart-twisting grin that always gave you butterflies.

He extinguished the flame, reached over, and started to pet your back. His hand moved to smooth down your hair. “Hey gorgeous, how you hangin’ in there?”

“Wow.” You exhaled, breathless. A beat of silence passed. “What was all that about?” You were still smiling, blush creeping up your cheeks, threatening to take over your whole face.

“What do you mean, pumpkin?” His tone was puzzled.

“The lovey-dovey stuff...”

“Oh.” He paused. “Don’t you know how much I like you? I may tease you but I really, really like you.”

“Stop it, Ace. You’re making me blush.”

His hand resumed smoothing your hair. It passed down to cup your cheek. He rubbed a circle on your skin with his thumb.

“What’s so wrong with making you blush?”

You didn’t answer. He leaned over to kiss you. Again, you’d never get over how good his lips felt pressed on yours. Any time they met it was electric.

“One second—let me get you cleaned up sweetheart.” Ace got off the bed, grabbed a towel, and wiped his cum off your back. His touch was soft, treating your body like it was precious. He got back into bed.

“Come over here.” Ace’s voice was tender.

You turned onto your side and scooted closer. He threw an arm over you and held you to his chest. You cozied up to him for a long time. His chin rested on top of your head, you curled into his chest, heard his heartbeat, and felt the weight of his arm squeezing you closer.

After a moment he started to chuckle.

“Ace, what? What are you laughing about?” The sass started to trickle back into your voice.

“So, did I fuck you better than anyone has before? Am I still all bark and no bite?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I guess you’re all bite.”

“Mmmm, that’s what I thought.” He kissed the top of your head and held you close, with that cocky grin plastered all over his face.

(✿◠‿◠) ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚ (*^_^*)

thank u so much for reading!! MAD shoutout to @acesluvrxx for the very detailed, and dare i say magnificent, request!

here's my masterlist, if you're interested!

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Niragi Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Heavy BDSM, Edging, Overstimulation, Aftercare, Ownership Kink, Marking, Biting, Petnames, Consensual Dub-Con, Consensual Abuse of Physical Strength, Knife Play, Mentions of Blood, Spit Kink, Cum Play, Rough Sex, Dominant Niragi, Submissive Reader, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, etc.

A/N: If you don't like this kind of content, please don't flag it ! It really hurts us authors and our engagement ! Instead, please consider blocking my account or changing your account viewing preferences so you aren't exposed to unwanted/NSFW content in the future :-). Here is a wonderful post which details how you can do just that <3

You’re his. Simple as.

And he makes sure to remind you - and anyone who crosses your path - on a near-daily basis.

Whenever he sees fit, he’ll just corner you and pin you down, telling you to “Calm down, Angel – you’re makin’ me hard,” – his way of warning you that whatever he has planned for you will only worsen the more you struggle.

And his bulge against your back is a very visceral promise of that.

Loves forcing your hands beside or above your head; it reminds you both of how much stronger than you he is – how weak and dependent you are compared to him.

How he owns you.

Bites your throat and shoulders, sucking marks, crafting you a necklace of bruises fashioned by him – his own branded jewels of love.

He’ll make sure they’re visible, too.

He needs to ward off other people from you by leaving his mark, his signature.

If he thinks you’re being bratty or uncooperative, he’ll go to any lengths to break you down until you submit to him entirely.

“You’re not making this any easier for yourself, Love,” he says. “Just tell me why you’re being so infuriating and I won’t bleed you this time.”

Massively into knife play.

Loves hearing you squeak and moan whenever he holds a knife to your throat or drags the blunted edge up your thighs, pressing it to your throbbing, aching core and cutting your underwear open, ravaging you.

He’s so rough when he’s in this kind of mood.

Will pound you until you bleed. Or give out and admit your feelings to him. Either will suffice; yet Niragi knows which he can draw from you first.

And his stamina and endurance are no joke.

He will outlast you in every faculty.

That’s the territory that comes with being a trained killer.

And he will remind you of that constantly.

“How does it feel–” he rasps, pants, as he pounds you from behind, the bed jutting with each thrust, “–to know you’re being fucked by a killer,”

The question is always rhetorical. He just revels in the feeling of you clenching around him when he recalls just how easily he could end you right here, right now.

But he doesn’t. And he never would.

He loves you far, far too much.

But that doesn’t stop him from being straight-up disrespectful.

Orders you to open your mouth, only for him to spit into it whenever he knows or suspects you’re being untruthful.

Also loves covering you in his cum.

His favourite thing is to cum inside you and watch it ooze from whichever holes he’s chosen to abuse that day, but something about covering you in it makes him feral.

Edges you constantly.

Uses your release as a bartering chip.

“Tell me why you’re being such a brat and I’ll let you cum.”

It’s a trap. Your honesty is punished, too.

Once he tears a satisfactory answer from you, he’ll let you - make you - cum.

And as your orgasm is still rolling through you, he’ll keep going. And going. And going.

At first you could assume it’s his bid to fulfill his own needs, but even after he finishes inside you and he simply doesn’t relent, realisation dawns on you.

Your insides are aching, pleading for a moment’s respite. But Niragi doesn’t stop, battering your hole and keeping it stretched over his bulging cock.

There comes a point where you’re banging your fists against his chest, begging him to stop because you’re so sensitive and it hurts, but he ignores you.

“If I were to let up that easily, I wouldn’t get to have any fun. Quite unfair after I let you cum, isn’t it?”

Looks into your eyes as he does it, too.

Will tie you up if he finds your cries and flails to be too bothersome.

Binds you to the bedposts so there’s nothing you can do but watch and feel as he slams into you at such a harsh, killing rhythm that has you thinking whatever’s leaking out of you right now is blood.

Very much into BDSM.

Will use his strength to bend you into whatever shape your body will allow and bind your limbs together, making it entirely impossible for you to break free as he has his way with you.

“You’re mine,” he’d say, grinding the shape of his cock into your walls; and all the while you’re moaning, crying, tears streaming down your face as euphoria tightens in your centre. “Nobody else can have you - please you - the way I can.”

Big fan of punishment, btw.

There are times where he puts you in a cage and just cums on you, making you stay there until his semen is crusting on your skin, makeshift scales on the creature he has reduced you to.

Also gets a kick out of spanking you, either with a belt or his hand.

When he’s feeling particularly cruel, he makes you count them until you reach the limit he has set for you.

And Heaven forbid you lose count, or you both start all over again.

Niragi likes to make sure that every time you try to sit down, you remember him – what he did to you.

When all is said and done, even when you’re used and stuffed and Niragi is milked dry, he is always up for more.

If you insist you can “go another round,” he’ll push you back down onto the bed.

“Oh, is that so, Sweetheart?” he says, looking down at you with mischief. “I might just break you if we go again.”

He’s joking, ofc.

When you're actually spent for the night, he just collapses next to you and looks upon you as if you are god, eyes dark and round.

Though he'd attribute that longing look in his eye to you being too emotional or clutching at straws - simply projecting that which you wanted to see.

Though, he will admit (only to himself), that it does feel nice to be so seen on occasion, but only by you.

Secretly loves to snuggle. All the time.

And he holds you as you’re drifting off to sleep, keeping you flush against his chest, wondering how he got so lucky to have met you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-) Masterlist

Masterpost

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bad boy, sad girl, m | myg

maybe you are not that into me i hate to admit it, honestly if I take one step closer take a couple of steps back it’s like this again, sick of love – bad boy, sad girl by SEULGI ft. BE’O

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, rough sex, cowgirl, fingering, public sex at a beach at night on the hood of a car, blowjob); Yoongi's POV

--

The silence was so deafening that it threatened to tear apart the ocean.

“Love is a sandcastle,” he finally said.

They stood beside each other but the distance could not be greater.

“What shame is there to lose to the water, then?”

He didn’t have an answer to that.

“I really would have preferred to be drowned by the water than torn apart by you,” she said, stepping back and away from his beautiful garden of colorless roses.

-

He tried not to feel the cavity in his chest with her hands around his neck.

Her fingers fanned over his shoulders, palms over his clavicles, and he stared into her eyes as she took him anywhere but home. She didn’t take away his breath. He did that on his own, holding it prisoner in his lungs, his hard knuckles digging into her hips, pushing down, clenching his jaw at the hellish tightness that threatened to consume. He did not fight it. Fighting against that insanity was futile.

He also never wanted to win in the first place.

Heated physicality. Her fingernails turned inward, tattooing half-moons into his memories, rolling her hips into his in a vicious, visceral smack. Her chin lifted, an eyebrow raising, her lips parting. The pleasure crawled into every nerve, poisoning all reason, and he watched her messy hair slide down her shoulder when he tilted his hips and drove himself in, again, deeper. Her palm pressed against his sternum. She snapped her hips into his crotch and he hissed, feeling his cock swell into slick, punishing walls. Again. Again, and again, until it was countless and indescribable. The scent of lust began to prevail all others.

Heavy, sweet, stained with bitterness.

He tried to get back into his head, tried not to be dazed by the haze, tried but gripped tighter, each thrust blossoming desire more intense than the last. Chasing. Wordless. Exhale out, harder. Her eyes cast down and he stole that moment of safety, watching her breasts bounce in the air, hard nipples sticking straight out, core tight, his glistening length disappearing as he felt her hands slip off his shoulders, twisting the sheets next to his quivering throat.

His head snapped back.

Her pussy squeezed all around his length in a powerful spasm. All of his muscles tensed to the point of burning, his vision becoming bursts of light underneath his eyelids as her orgasm surged through him, his breathing stuttering when she felt her continue regardless, growl in her chest while her hips slapped down. Power veered like a seesaw, from her hips to his hands, locking his hold to keep her body still, slamming his hips upward with a breathless moan.

He tried to remember why.

Why didn’t matter in the face of euphoric oblivion.

He felt her lean forward, hot gasp on his exposed neck, the angle nearly driving him over the edge, but he steeled his resolve and thrust again, again, loud and hard and with all his might, the pace following the rapid pulse thundering in his ears, half-opening his eyes to a tangled black maze he could barely see through. His own hair. Didn’t matter. He wasn’t searching for details.

Just confirmation of reality.

She was looking down, her heated breath washing over his shivering chest.

“F… Fuck!”

He gritted his teeth and screamed in his throat, forcing his hips up as they flinched, the thin thread inside him snapping, his throbbing cock spilling into the condom with thick, twitching spurts. The border of pain and pleasure undefinable through the intensity, gasping, pressing his hard fingertips into her soft ass.

He tried not to think about it.

Not when his teeth sank into her shoulder.

Not when his hips descended again, making a loud, irreversible, wet smack.

Not when her fingers closed in around his forearms and patterned him with aching pink lines.

He didn’t moan her name and she didn’t breathe his. He just pushed himself to the brink of death and, when he reached that point, he switched to bury his fingers up to his knuckles, drenching his hand with her slick, painting himself with bruising kisses and her teeth marks over his neck, anything for the rush, anything for the crushing wave to overwhelm one of them again.

All so he could siphon off her ecstasy and make it his own.

It was selfish stealing and he didn’t care.

She put her clothes back on while he stared at the ceiling. She didn’t ask what they were. He didn’t ask how it was. He didn’t say anything at all, the soreness killing him less than the silence. She left.

He sat up.

She stared at him from the open bedroom door.

He froze, startled at his incorrect assumption. She tilted her head, bundled in a black and white flannel, tight black crop top, and baggy black pants with chains on them. The clinking sound had ceased for several minutes. Perhaps he had been far too deep in his thoughts to gauge time correctly.

After an eternity, she ticked her chin at him.

“About what you said.”

He could only reply with a silent shift of his eyes. She waited. He flicked his gaze back.

She smiled.

It was disconnected from this moment.

“We hide behind ambiguity to avoid facing inevitability.”

He frowned.

She turned around and left for real this time.

-

“What?”

He paused, his hand on her forearm, his lips over-bitten. She didn’t understand his hesitation.

“What did you mean by the word ‘inevitability’?” he asked, hot all over.

She scoffed.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

His body trembled, craving the fix, but he denied it, shaking his head instead. She sighed, pulling back. The dark, swirling ocean was right there. Right in front of them, cold and life-sucking in the depths of the night. The car simmered on idle as if it was an irate, unwilling participant to this rendezvous. She stared out to the water, diving into it with her eyes, leaving the acid smoke of the lustful air that had saturated seconds before.

“What do you even want, Min Yoongi?” she snapped.

“Want?” he echoed. Gave his usual answer. “Nothing.”

She glanced back.

“Then what’s the problem?”

He held her gaze for a moment before looking down at his pale hands that he had abused through guitars, wood-working, and clutching a pen too hard. The scent of pressed paper still clung to his skin, or at least it seemed that way from all the notepads he had torn up in the past week, trying his best to give words to a concept that gave him a damn headache.

“What do you want?” He retorted question with question.

She let out a rapid-fire breath.

“You to give a definition to this nothing you speak of,” she chuckled.

The sound died out like a scream.

They stared at the water that simply roared back. It was too vast to stay silent, even from this distance. He chewed on his lower lip. After a few minutes, he lifted his hand and reached over, placing his palm on her bare thigh. It was easy, for she was wearing a black t-shirt dress with a heavy dark denim jacket over it, and her knees were far apart, not caring about ladylike status in this situation.

He turned his head slightly.

Their eyes met.

“You done philosophizing?” she asked.

He didn’t reply. Just leaned forward to close the distance. The setting was it. The time of night were all bad decisions came to light. The ocean sound masked soundless gasps and breathless moans. Moonlight streamed down only to be reflected away by the mirrored surface commanded by its pull. Their pocket of darkness could not be intruded upon unless someone was deliberately looking for the same type of sinful seclusion.

Right place.

Desperation could create warriors and innovators. Her knee braced against the edge of the hood of his car as his exhale drifted into her open mouth, shuddering when he slid inside. The condom wrapper skittered away, chased by the wind, but they were too locked in embrace to notice. Hips flush, moving in unison to the waves. The ocean threatened, but their bodies burned away the cold with wicked friction and blinding need. One arm wrapped around her waist under her jacket. Her still-warm, still-sticky arousal stuck to his crotch and balls. He thrust deeper, slow. Her fingers tangled into his hair. Stings of pain from her insistence and his head hooked forward, increasing the hurt, catching her lips with strings of saliva between them. His other hand was planted onto the car hood, straining to maintain some measure of control.

Wrong person.

She was balanced on tiptoe of a heavy black boot and one knee, but inside she pulled him in, tight and wet and closer, pulsing all around his length, forcing him to close his eyes and tip his head back, thrusting harder, rougher, succumbing to the indecency of this high, gasping to the sound of water crashing into sand.

“You can start the car.”

The used condom was crumpled up into a wad of take-out tissues.

His lungs hurt from the salt and exertion.

“There’s much better than me, you know,” he said, one hand on the wheel and not touching the ignition.

He didn’t look at her.

“And yet you keep calling me,” she replied.

The dark sea slapped against the shore.

“You don’t have to answer.”

He couldn’t hear it that well though the closed car doors.

“I don’t.”

He waited her for to elaborate. She did not.

He started the car.

-

He tried to breathe.

She looked down at him, his taste clinging to her lips in thick white smears.

“Everyone loses when it comes to life. The way to win is to not give a fuck about the rules.”

Her pink tongue slid out and licked away the remnants.

His brows furrowed.

“What?”

She shrugged. His chest was on fire. The desire below had barely subsided. His nerves were still shooting blanks. She tilted her hand, his trapped between her arms. Her hair curled around her shoulders and brushed against his naked torso, creating a cocoon of illusionary safety.

She stared into his eyes.

“You seem afraid to be a loser, Min Yoongi. That’s all.”

His palms were on the bed, behind him, holding him up on shaky ground.

“I do not lose,” he exhaled, his voice gravelly with annoyance.

Her lashes lowered. She removed her arms from his shoulders. Her hair swept away from him, their closeness disappearing with it. He stilled. It would have been better not to reply after all. She slipped between his knees again. He stiffened, watching carefully. Her fingers fanned over his white thighs, leaning in again.

She paused over his half-hard, still leaking cock.

Looked up.

“What shame is there to lose to the inevitable?” she asked.

And swallowed him.

He tensed, the pressure of persistent tongue and slippery softness eating away at his introspection. The simulation circled around the base, slowed, lazy licking accompanied by the slow scratch of nails on sensitive skin. His balls glided over her fingertips, nudged forward into the tip of her tongue as the back of her throat choked the swollen head of his cock. Consistent control and power. Her lips pressed around his girth, forward, back, fluttering pleasure that mounted to something unbelievable.

His high rose like the swell of a wave and crashed just as violently.

He could feel the way his cock twitched and hit the back of her throat, shivering into the steady pulse of muscle curl around him. She slid back, forth, so slow it was serene, a heightened suspension prolonged by pooled saliva and wet softness.

She waited.

He pulled himself together, strings and all.

Stared at her under a curtain of black, his hair barely an obstacle to those knowing eyes.

“Love is a sandcastle,” he said once more in between pants. “Flimsy and held together by what will destroy it eventually.”

She nodded.

Agreeing.

“And devotion will be a choice you make every time you call,” she said, his taste still lingering on her breath.

He breathed out, unable to think straight.

He held out his scarred hand.

She took it.

it's a misunderstanding i'm not a bad boy, bad boy, bad boy i don't want to make you cry like a sad girl, sad girl, sad girl

--

masterpost

[sminiac]

⋆ Kim Jongseob + Reader

💌 — Guess who still hasn’t slept, and who is also thinking about how sweet Bf!Jongseob would be because I am SICK. ILL. from the lack of Jseob content.

Bf!Jongseob who never fails to capture the most precious moments with his camera: where you had your first kiss, first date, first sleepover, first meal together, everything. He’d make a scrapbook for said photos, even sneaking in receipts from the places you two have visited, he’d write the cutest little notes beside the tangible memories that made it all the more visceral for him, and he’d only address them to himself so he wouldn’t hold back on his thoughts about how cute you are, how nice you smelled that day, how pretty your outfit was, if he noticed other guys looking at you, a funny joke you told, ugh he’s so🫠 he’d tell you that the added depth to the seemingly uninteresting pictures was what made it worthy of owning a spot in the book, and although you can’t quite seem to grasp the emotional connection he has to a picture of Soul captured jumping mid air, you agree anyways.

Bf!Jongseob who is absolutely the type to have you posted on every social media account he owns, and it’s not just one or two you make an appearance in, no. It’s pretty much every post, profile picture, anything, because he’s also so mygirlfriendmygirlfriend!! Since we’re on the topic of social media let me just say he’d always come in clutch for your birthday, like he’s pulling out the cutest most flattering pictures to ever exist of you:,) the sweetest paragraph written too. He’s so adorable my chest is going to collapse.

Bf!Jongseob who often looks to you if he’s worried his stage makeup is smudged or if his hair is out of place, he’d be so still while asking you to fix something, his hands steady at your hips, letting you do your thing, he’d also keep your brain busy with his opinions about their setlist, or a place he wants to check out before the two of you return to the hotel for the night, or a snack he’s seen that recently became popular online that he’s been wanting to try, his hand placement is just so boyfriend😞 he’s so boyfriend, speaks so calmly to you despite you trying to work with him as quick as possible so that he can return to the stage, although most of the time it’s just an excuse to see you, to get a quick kiss and to hear the comforting sound of your voice 🫠🫠

Bf!Jongseob who never forgets your good luck handshake before he’s being sent out to perform, “But just one more,” he’d rush, trying to steal another kiss before you have the chance to refuse, which is exactly why you didn’t want to have a kiss seal off the pre-show ritual, because it’s never just ‘one more’ which results in him being unprepared and rushing off at the last second. “Seob anymore and I’ll mess up your face.” “Good. Just one. Please! And I’ll go.” “This is your job??? you have to go anyway.”

Bf!Jongseob who often has you sat comfortably between his legs, back against his chest as he plays whatever video game he’s been fixated on recently, sooooo boyfriend I’m telling you!!!! If you aren’t familiar with the game he’s offering to show you the basics, if you end up getting frustrated he’ll laugh, of course, but he’ll always kiss the side of your head as his hands slip over yours to guide you through the process, “Yeah, like that, see you’re getting it, don’t be so hard on yourself, dummy.”

Bf!Jongseob who personally had a photocard of you made just so he can hang the small picture of you off of his bag beside his own!

Bf!Jongseob who swears you’ve had him retell every detail possible about ‘Harry Potter’ more than enough times, yet whenever he’s in another country you’re always: “Seob, what happens next?” over the phone and he can’t stand how cutely you ask, so his sworn resolve to not staying up all night diving deep into canon events quickly crumbles like compact sand hitting water, it slips through his fingers as if it never existed, but Jiung’s starting to get a little tired of it, especially being Seob’s roommate for this stop.

RRRRRRR bf!Jseob bf!Jseob bf!Jseob thank yew🙏❕❕❕

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello~ I don't know if someone has already ask this but I'll just ask anyway. What made you so interested in Jade? I'm not saying it's a bad thing or anything of the sort. I'm just very intrigued.

Also to feed into your J-word brain rot I present to you this, but picture Jade. Lol I saved this photo as hot damn Sebastain.

Hello, hello!! ^^ I’ve made a post before that explains my interest in Jade, but if I’m being entirely honest 💦 it’s all over the place and difficult to read because of how often I go all caps and keyboard smashing. I’ll try to summarize my thoughts here in a way that’s more digestible and calm.

I love many of the little details about his face: the shape of his eyes, the curve of his mouth, how his brows are arched, etc. I also have a visceral, near animalistic urge to tug on that black bit of hair he has sprouting out...

His manner of dress also resonates with me! Jade is usually well covered and in formal attire, and I think that makes it more exciting on the instances when he dresses down (whether that be going without his gloves or choosing something more casual to wear).

His intelligence. I've always preferred characters who rely on their smarts over their strength to achieve their goals, and Jade fits the bill. One particular example is how his UM is limited in scope and usage, so he has to carefully plan and strategize about how and when he casts it. It's nice that Jade can also loosen up and use his cunning not necessarily for nefarious deeds, but just to tease others.

He plays support and he plays it well. I also have a tendency to like "helper" characters (butlers, bodyguards, knights, etc.), which is another archetype that Jade slots into. He is highly competent as a vice dorm leader, personal assistant, and right-hand man (eel?) to Azul. Plus, Jade knows when and how to play to his strengths (especially when it comes to deception and disarming others) and adapt to any situation he is placed in. Jade has even earned the approval of the notoriously hard to please Vil!

He keeps you guessing, and you'll still never even see it coming. I think it's interesting that he appears more docile than Floyd, yet Azul warns his peers that Jade is the more dangerous twin since Jade won't telegraph his schemes or bad moods (unlike Floyd). I 100% agree with Azul; not knowing what Jade has in store or when it will hit you is much scarier--but also much more thrilling in a way, haha...

Similar to the last point but much more specific; I love Love LOVE those moments when he's smiling while saying the most horrendous things (the infamous "what I'd do to anyone that betrays me" line lives rent free in my head). I also adore it when Jade is lying to your face and overacting (like when he pretends he got dust in his eye in book 4). He's so dramatic while lying his heart out, it makes me giggle.

Jade works with many of the tropes I like to go for when I want comfort. Househusband/domestic life stuff, butler looking after you, etc. I have a habit of overworking and forgetting to take care of my needs, so it's easier for me to remember if I pretend like Jade's the one doing the self-care for me.

I appreciate that he appreciates nature. I don't get to touch much grass (not that I don't go outside, it's that there isn't much grass in the area I live in)... so I get very excited whenever I get to just enjoy nature in its purest form, taking in that fresh air. It makes me feel like we're kindred spirits.

The duality of eel. Overall, I'd say that the reason I like Jade so much is because he can be many things which typically run contradictory to one another. I think that makes for a fun character that keeps me on my toes ^^

NOT YOU USING “J WORD” TOO… 💀 It’s spreading… just like a bunch of spores…

Aaaah, it’s Sebastian!! It’s been years and years since I read Black Butler (I think I stopped around the Blue Cult arc?). He’s still just as effortlessly elegant as I remember him being… I guess that’s par for the course for one hell of a butler, huh?

Here, lemme just… *crudely draws on him* THERE WE GO, THE J WORD SSR FOR AN EVENT WHERE WE VISIT THE LAND OF CRIMSON LONG :>

Thank you for your question and the rot fuel 🥰

[wayfayrr]

I see your human!reader and raise you: the Chain struggling to find food they can actually eat, reader feeling terrible and maybe a bit like a burden because of it, and getting into a dangerous situation in order to make it up to them

Source: the Owl House :)

I'm so sorry that this took so long to answer!! I've been quite busy recently but while I haven't watched the owl house I hope this does what you wanted justice, it got out of hand the more I wrote!!! I've heard it's great I just don't really watch shows :( Fair warning this got way more angsty then I planned for it too, with reader being pretty flippant about their own safety than they really should be, there's a brief not very detailed description of gore too. (it's also fairly wars centric towards the end)

[masterlist]

“[Name]! So wind and I’ve just been to the village right? I think I’ve finally found something I can cook that you should be able to eat! It was quite expensive but I’m sure it’ll be worth it for you!” 

“We looked around for ages, so if you can’t eat this then there might not be anything in Hyrule that you can eat!”

Wind means well with what he’s saying; I know that Wild does too, they don’t mean to make me feel bad - I think they don’t anyway. Not like they really need to try with how much of a burden to them I am. Buying expensive supplies just for me? When they’re already struggling to afford their own basic supplies, now I’m just adding unnecessary costs for them. Don’t get me started with the looks of pity they give me either. 

“Thank you both but, please don’t go spending so much on me.”

“But we have to find something you can eat, you’ll just be a… It’s not good for you to starve!”

That - that’s the closest any of them have gotten to saying it outright, they really do just see me as a burden - they aren’t even trying to hide it now. No wonder I’ve always been kept to the side in any fights, Hyrule can’t heal me so I’d just be deadweight if I got hurt, I can’t fight like they can really all I’m good for is as a meat shield to defend them from magic. “Hey [name], are you alright? You zoned out a bit there…”

“Oh, yeah I just - I think I just need to have some time alone if that’s alright? I’ll make sure to stay in distance of the camp.”

“As long as you’re careful and not there too long, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll tell the others for you.”

I hope he doesn’t.

He seemed content with how I nodded at him, so I should be in the clear to go and just vanish for a while even if it’s just to pretend I’m not causing them issues for a little while.

It doesn’t feel like it takes me long to get to a nice place to sit, so it should still be pretty close to camp - not that they should be worried for me. Somewhere nice and open to sit next to a gentle babbling brook, it’s calm and I’m alone, everything I need at the moment.

Shit - how did I not see a sleeping lynel!? No no, not now I don’t even have a weapon! … What if I did kill it though - their parts can be sold for a fortune… I could pay my way and prove I’m not just useless. Even if I don’t - well they won’t have to worry about me in that case.

It hasn’t seemed to notice me yet, maybe there’s a chance I can come back from it. If I just stay low and as silent as I can then I should be able to jump it. 

Stay quiet, take its weapon. Wow, that’s a lot lighter than Wild makes it out to be. Now to just - Just go for its neck! I - I actually managed to slit its throat!

IT’S STILL ALIVE!?

Okay. OKAY! Its movements are sluggish and it seems to be bleeding out so just get away from it - 

Why - why can’t I feel my arm properly? Why is my shoulder so wet all of a -! The pain hit harder than a truck every nerve on my left side feels like it’s being set ablaze, there wasn’t a single hope of keeping in the scream I just let out, one I didn’t even realise had ripped its way from my throat. Tilting my head down to see the cause; suddenly my body feeling nothing but raw visceral pain suddenly makes a lot more sense than before. The stupid thing cut half through my shoulder with my arm now hanging limply by my side. 

“[NAME]! WHAT ARE YOU DOING - YOU’VE BEEN MISSING FOR HOURS - WHAT Did you - [name]!?”

Wars is here..? Didn’t Wild say I was going off for a bit? Why would he be looking for me? I can’t be worth so much that he’d go off on his own to look for me.

“Oh goddesses [name] what - no, no, no stay awake, you’ve got to stay with me darling.”

“‘m awake… ‘m - still ‘ere…”

Is that really what I sound like right now…  I sound so slurred… like - like how people on tv sounded when they were. Oh.

I’m bleeding out and delirious then, no wonder Wars is ‘here’, he’s just my brain giving me one last happy memory before I kick the bucket. Isn’t that wonderful, to spend my last moments hallucinating my unreciprocated crush caring for me. Closing my eyes feels all too easy, even when I’m about to drift off it still feels as if he’s holding me, maybe this won’t be too bad?

“[Name] don’t you DARE close your eyes, you - I’m not losing anyone else I care about - I can't lose you… I haven't even-”

A harsh slap to the face after a shaky breath - one that feels all too real - has me reconsidering things, the feeling of something tears dropping onto my face is the thing that finally has me opening my eyes despite how hard it is to do so. 

“I - I have some bandages, a potio- no that’s not going to help you I’ve got bandages I just need you to talk to me while I use them, so I know you aren’t close to passing out. You’re going to make it out of this - I need you to make it out of this.”

The agony of him adjusting my arm to bind it, well it’s proof that I am still very much alive. If he really wants me to talk… well then I might as well try to get some answers out of him.

“Why - why ‘re you - wh’ ‘d you come lookin’ fr me?”

“You - vanished for hours without a word, did you really think none of us would get worried? Even if none of the others would, I will always come for you.”

“Hm’ wild said he w’s gonna tell the rs’ o’ you… b’sides ‘m just a burden ‘nt I? Wil’ pretty muh said i’.”

“...Wild. but why would he risk - he wouldn��t put you in the… Don’t worry about what wild says he’s lying, you’re not a burden, even if you were. You’re one I would choose to carry every day for the rest of my life without a single regret. Don’t let what he says get to you, darling.”

Murderous, that’s the best way I could hope to describe the look on his face, it’s like he wants wild dead. His bandages seem to have stopped the bleeding though, so while I still feel lightheaded I should live as long as the wound doesn’t get infected. 

“Wai’ why’r you callin’ me darlin’? ‘M not - you’r…”

A little smirk crossed his face then barely lasting long enough for me to just notice it before it was replaced by concern, did I forget something, I mean it’s not impossible that I also hit my head right? Right?

“But you’re my partner, honeybee, we’ve been together for a few days now - you - you can’t have forgotten that right? If that’s the only price for you surviving, I mean we can always just make better memories. You - You’re still alive and that’s the most important thing.”

Well that’s not impossible, I know I’ve had feelings for him for a while so if he did ask I would’ve said yes…

“We can remake the memories later after you recover. You know I’m so glad that human blood flows slower than ours, those precious few extra seconds are literally lifesaving.”

He’s just babbling to himself now, must’ve been stressed over me; now that I’m safer it’s all just draining out of him. The way he’s clinging to me and shaking shows that fairly well too, like he doesn’t plan to let me out of his arms for a long while. 

“Please never do this ever again, I don’t even know what you were planning but you could’ve died [name], you could’ve died and I wouldn’t have had a chance to say goodbye. Please you have to explain why when you’re better. Please promise me you’ll tell me why.”

“I will Wars, I swear.”

“...That’s all I needed to hear, thank you darling.”

[elwenyere]

Crafting Comments on Fics

So with Comment Fest approaching - and with the possibility of bot-generated comments undermining the value of reader-writer engagement - I thought it might be helpful to provide a short explanation of some different approaches I use in crafting comments, in order to identify a few places to get started for anyone who has wanted to leave more (or more detailed) comments but who feels unsure how to get going. 

This is far from an exhaustive list, and the categories are designed to allow for a mix-and-match construction with varying levels of development (from basic to more elaborate). At the heart of it, I think of commenting as a practice of paying attention to what I notice in a story and then crafting language to share those observations with the writer. So each of these categories starts from something we might notice when we read.

1. Affect: how the fic affected you/made you feel

This is a great place to start if commenting feels intimidating, because you’re drawing from your own emotional responses. A basic template might be something like “_____ made me ________.” You can pick a particular moment (the scene with the tooka infestation, the kiss in the Denny’s parking lot, the moment we realize character x was dead the whole time, etc.) or focus on the fic as a whole; and you can describe the effect in simple terms (made me cry, smile, laugh, feel soft, etc.) or extravagant ones (made me want to roll myself into the sea, made me feel like I had ascended to a new astral plane, shook me so deeply it registered a 10.3 on the Richter scale). The idea is to take one or more responses you had to the fic and let the writer know what they were/what about the story produced them. 

2. Memory: what from the fic has stuck with you

If a story has an especially strong effect on you, you might also let the author know what particular moments, lines, or images are going to linger in your mind after you finish reading. After identifying the detail(s) you want to flag (if you were going to bookmark this fic with a note to remind Future You which one it is, what image or scene or plot premise or line of dialogue would go in the “the one with the ___________” slot?), you can describe the way it’s sticking with you in general terms (I’m still thinking about it, chewing on it, rotating it like a Hot Pocket in a microwave), or you can point to some of the reasons why it’s sticking with you (it captures character x’s whole deal so well, it reminds me of y moment in the film/tv show/comic, it crystallizes a larger theme in the story so effectively). 

3. Appreciation: what in the fic seems beautiful, artful, striking

In this approach you’re giving a writer a sense of what stood out to you aesthetically about the story: the moments that made you feel like “put a frame around that fucker because I want to keep staring at it.” This category can feel tricky because there might be terminology specific to the form that we’re not familiar with, so it can feel hard to describe what exactly makes a moment strike us as well-crafted. But we might think about the appreciation approach as having a basic template: “_____ is so ________.” The first slot can be either general (the whole story, a larger scene, the way the author writes dialogue or description or a major character) or very specific (copying and pasting a particular line or passage, identifying a pattern of imagery, pointing out the way the author narrates a specific kind of experience). And the second slot can be just one adjective (beautiful, visceral, unsettling, powerful, stunning, lyrical) or a more elaborate evaluation (so effective at conveying emotions, so hard-hitting after the slow build-up, so vivid I feel like I’m actually there). 

4. Discovery: what the fic showed you/made you think about

Sometimes you read a fic that makes you think about the media/the ship/the characters in a new way, and that’s a really powerful thing to share with the writer. As with the other approaches, you can frame this in terms of the fic as a whole or pull out particular lines or plot points, and you can either describe the effect on your thinking in general terms (this changed my brain chemistry, this blew my mind, this is canon for me now) or in specific ones (I’d never thought about x moment in the film that way before, but now I’m going to think about it that way every time; the line where character x says y was like a lightbulb moment for me - it clarified so much about x’s motivations; I would never have thought about this show as being about z theme, but after reading this fic, I’m seeing z everywhere). 

------

So there you have it: a non-exhaustive list of things we notice about stories and some ways to talk about that. I hope it’s helpful. And of course, when in doubt or when pressed for energy, a string of emojis, a keyboard smash, or an all-caps “I LOVED THIS!!!” are also wonderful ways to share a little love with fic writers.

[cherrysoojins]

८ bewitched , ateez laufey songs .

✉️. five of eight, song mingi. what love will do to you.

&ㅤㅤ 📦 ♡ warnings. sfw, fluff, small mention of wooyoung &. yunho, suited for all ages, not proofread ( might have spelling errors ), not the best one i don’t rlly like it :(, let me know if any other warnings that should be added ! 1161 wc.

taglist. @luvvvlyjoong , @cherrystar1117 , @dairyminki

song mingi has never acted this way before.

he has never actively sat there and talked to the walls of his room about someone— not even when he was mad at someone and needed to ramble at something or to somebody. he always did it in his head.

but this time, he felt the physical need to actually talk about it. this feeling.

this feeling that was overwhelmingly taking over every inch of his body, but more specifically, his heart and mind.

love was so visceral. mingi has been in love before, has liked plenty of other girls and stuff, but you… you made him question if he was actually in love with all of those girls in the past.

for them, it was the thought of knowing he was in love with them. he looked at them and thought, “man, i’m in love with her.”

but with you, he felt it, too. it was so hard to ignore this feeling, he felt it so deeply throughout this body. the warmth, the butterflies, longing and aching whenever you left or when you were so close to him but he couldn’t hold or touch you… he truly felt in love with you.

he didn’t think he was in love with you, he knew he was in love with you.

and with these new overwhelming new emotions, he had to talk it out. and so he talked it out with the wall in front of where he sat on the edge of his bed.

could he just have gone to his friends? yes, but wooyoung would just laugh and poke fun at him and yunho would tell mingi all the right things and give great advice, but mingi found that annoying for some reason.

so the wall was his new best friend.

he could talk to it and it would keep all his secrets, it wouldn’t make fun of him or give him annoying advice (that he probably needed)— it just listened and that was what he really needed at the moment. was just someone to listen.

he wishes it was you who was listening. the things he admitted to this wall were the words he wished he could admit to you.

that he re-reads his favorite romance book time and time again and imagines you as the female love interest because knows that it ends with the two main characters in love, which would be you and him.

and that’s a big shocker because since when did mingi ever read?

days where you and him couldn’t meet up with each other were always so hazy— they were slow and he couldn’t recollect a single memory on what happened on those days. but the days where you were there, they went by fast but he could oddly enough remember ever single detail from the moment you got to the meeting spot to the very second you both left, he could recall it all.

these things were all so simple yet felt so odd to say. it sounds like he’s gone crazy and is just saying random stuff that doesn’t make sense.

but in a way, that’s what love will do to you.

it drives you crazy, but it can ultimately make you so insanely happy— love is odd and crazy and doesn’t make sense. it was made to make you not think straight— it was made to just make you feel.

and mingi did indeed seem crazy and was indeed not thinking straight as his fingers tapped your name into the search bar of his contacts and hit the “call” button without hesitation.

love will indeed do crazy things to you, because if he was in his right mind he would never do something like this.

“hi, mingi!” your voice rang out, picking up halfway through the first ring, almost immediately.

mingi could feel his heart rate pick up at the mere sound of your voice speaking to him so happily, with a hint of tiredness in it.

he assumes you might’ve been sleeping since he called you at three in the morning.

but would he sound insane if he said the idea of you waking up from your slumber and immediately accepting his call was endearing and enough to make the butterflies in his stomach go absolutely wild?

“y/n,” he breathed out a breath he was unknowingly holding into the phone, a smile etching onto his face at the sound of your voice that could light up a million rooms at once. “did i wake you up?” he asked a moment later.

“you did, but that’s okay because it’s you.” you said softly into the phone in response. he could hear you shuffling around in your bed and the sound of the phone being placed onto your pillow.

he could only assume that if this went right, you wouldn’t be hanging up on him at all tonight. falling asleep on the phone sounded like such a childish thing to get excited about, but he didn’t care.

any moment with you, even if it meant he was taking on the role of a corny high schooler with his first girlfriend who fell asleep on call with him, he would cherish it and adore it.

because that is also, what love will do to you.

“y/n, i…”

love will make you a different person in some ways, and make you discover things about yourself that you didn’t know before.

and for mingi, it made him realize how hard he can love, how he needs to vent about these feelings and get them off of his chest.

“i really like you. actually, i’m in love with you. really.” mingi sputtered out before his mind could talk himself out of it and catch up with his actions and put a halt to them.

there was silence on the other line for a couple of seconds before he heard soft little giggles emit from you, unease drowning his body. what if you were laughing at him? what if you didn’t reciprocate his feelings? what happens after this if you reject him right now?

this was pathetic, he should’ve known better. you were too good for him, he didn’t deserve you and—

“i’m in love with you too, mingi.”

oh.

oh.

“oh.” he said, his entire body freezing up im pure shock, but then relaxed in pure relief as all the other troubled thoughts slowly left his mind.

“but i’m going to ignore your confession because you told me through a phone call and not face to face.” you added before hanging up.

mingi would have over thought about that too if you didn’t send a heart emoji to him through text immediately after, causing a smile to appear on his face.

love will do crazy things to you. it’ll make you do things that you wouldn’t ever do normally, it makes you irrational and thoughtless.

but in cases like these, mingi was fine with that.

note. this one wasn’t my favorite, especially the ending. i really tried though, i just kind of gave up on it because mingi’s wasn’t going the way i planned, but i hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless !

[janumun]

Hello love! I’ve been thinking and there is a lot of push and pull with the fandom about Caleb. And I’m wondering how you feel about him? What do you think of his character? What’s your speculations & how would you feel about it if he became a LI? My friends and I have sat down once & analyzed him and MC’s dynamic and dialogue, but as someone who has been in the LADS longer, what’s your POV? I’m so torn between my views and how there are some ppl in the fandom with such strong views and opinions about their relationship. (I’m currently on Ch.7 rn I believe, just to give a timeline)..

I hope you have an amazing day and all your daydreams are fun! 💕

Hello to you too, Gold! ♥️ I hope you’re having a great day as well.

Let me just preface this by saying I absolutely adore Caleb, there isn’t a single thing that man could do which would change that so I’m understandably biased LOL. Dividing this into labeled portions for ease of reading as this gets rather long!

My thoughts on him

I’ve been in love with that big giant since the near moment he looks down at you with those very visceral emotions tearing across his face, before he stops what he’s saying, leaving the end of his sentence unfinished (that “I promise I’ll be back soon.” message from him in our inbox is foul, Infold, FOUL sob).

If they had never introduced Sylus as a love interest, I know Caleb would’ve very easily been my 2nd favorite after Rafayel, I adore him that much.

I think I’ve made it somewhat obvious ATP that I’m a loser for yearning men. 1000/10 yearning in the pipeline, immense love and a desperate desire to keep their beloved safe and witness them happy, even at the cost of their own happiness and mental peace (Rafayel cough Rafayel). And Caleb also fits that bill to a T. I believe he would do anything were it to mean MC could go on living her everyday, normal life.

His method of protection, however, lies in how dedicated he is to the task of (fool! this fool!) willingly distancing himself from her by throwing in emotional barriers: treating her like a childhood friend/a little sister instead of what he’s always viewed her as, the girl he loves.

One of the most wonderful aspects of Love and Deepspace is how well it is able to portray subtle emotions through facial expressions and body language, something that its 2D predecessors, understandably, are at a disadvantage with how they have to make up for it in engaging writing (nothing wrong with that one!).

Bringing me to my original point of how Caleb’s actions/the way he looks at her and cares for her do not coincide with his words/setting up spoken barriers with her, delegating her to an annoying “childhood friend”. It goes without saying, that this is up to personal interpretation.

Thankfully, the only complaint I’ve seen in my space regarding Caleb’s potential as our 5th LI is that the game is fairly expensive for people aiming to get more than one LI’s card (and even then, when my sole bias was Rafayel pre-Sylus, as a casual spender, I had to pick and choose which cards of his I absolutely needed) and Caleb’s addition would make that struggle worse for the harem/multi-bias players. Which is a very valid concern to have.

Speculations

There are so many wonderful ways they could take his character were they to make him playable, and expand on what we already know of him.

Is he blood related to Josephine, MC’s adoptive grandmother, or was he, also, for reasons undisclosed/similar to MC’s reasons for being taken in by Josephine (I’m not sure if you have read those “underworld stories” yet so I will not go into spoiler-y details) adopted by her? How much does he truly know about MC’s condition and how her Evol is one, highly coveted? Assuming his playability also leads us to assuming he either survived that house fire and left the scene, not disclosing his whereabouts to even his childhood friend OR that he had something to do with it.

So far, I’m not inclined to believe the “Villain Caleb” theories any more than I’m inclined to believe Rafayel’s betrayal theories. Even amongst the LaDS cast and personal bias aside, I believe these two are the most likely to actively/most prominently display their marks of devotion for her, even through their direly reckless actions, regardless of the consequences to their own person. Case in point, Caleb’s traumatic “death” in the house fire with his Grandmother. We don’t know if it was intentional but if he is alive, he hasn’t contacted MC either and from what I’ve parsed from his character so far, she probably plays a central role in the decision he’s made to keep away/protect her from the sidelines.

[shavynel]

Writing comments for fanfic

tl;dr -- Write one thing you liked about the fic (a phrase or moment) and how you reacted or made you feel! Also, keep it fun! Make no demands of fic authors who write out of love and Owe Us Nothing.

It took me a while to figure out how to write comments. I went through an evolution. There's lots of stuff on how to write stories, probably even giving crit and feedback, but commenting? Not nearly as much. So here's my not so short ramble on writing comments for fic. Includes my Ways of commenting and Tenets of commenting.

Examples here will be T-rated (by AO3 standards) and most are taken from or newly written with specific fics in mind. They are, ahem, almost all Genshin Impact.

Commenting is, I believe, a personal thing. I've been told I have a bit of an enthusiastic presence, so what feels true to you may vary. I also like to write words (can you tell?). And smash keyboards.

Leaving comments is, in fact, effort! But it's also a skill that can be learned and honed. And honestly, I think my fic experience is improved by it. I don't always leave a comment. But, I don't know... that random internet person authored a Whole Thing. For Free (likely). And I just get to read it?? Yeah, I'm going to leave a little appreciation. Just a little snack in return for this fulfilling meal you have fed me.

I also find writing a comment is also a way for me to just bask in a fic a little bit longer, linger in that feeling of oh, wow, this was so good, and I don't want to leave yet. (And then sometimes there's a response, and then I get a bonus dose of nostalgia!)

Ways of commenting

These are roughly ordered by amount of effort required. I would say the comments I leave are a mash up of these, really. There aren't actual hard lines between them.

1. An extra kudos.

Kudos are nice. Knowing the kudos button isn't enough is one layer deeper! Comments like

"Thanks for writing!" "<3" "i mash kudos button but no more kudos come out what's wronnnnggg????" "yay an update!" "this is so good"

Level of effort: slightly more than a kudos.

Honestly, copy-pasteable. Personally, I would always write these out. Somehow, to me, as a commenter, feels more real if I tippy tappy the letters myself even if Author can't tell. It's a nice way to let an author know you're coming back chapter after chapter when we can only kudos once on a fic. I like to leave a little something more, but I still often start or end with this.

2. Fic reaction.

Sometimes a fic just leaves me a certain way. Invoked a particular mood or visceral reaction. So, I let the author know!

"Awww, my heart is warm!" "Jaw on ground. WTF!" "Literal chills." "My eyes are wet. How did that happen?" "This fic is pure comfort." "AHHHHHHHHHHH!" "Heart on floor, smashed." "WHOLESOME!" "This has left me completely feral and ready to punch something."

Level of effort: you need some emotional intelligence or other awareness of you reactions.

As a starting point, was the fic -- wholesome, sweet, chaotic (in a good way), funny, heartwrenching, sad, delightful, shocking, calm, peaceful, I just want a hug now, terrifying, creepy, comedic?

How do you then turn this into a comment? "This was so ___!!"

Honestly, my crutch here is to just keyboard smash. What does it mean? Your guess as good as mine. I'm speechless, and I cannot words properly, but please participate in these Feels I'm having.

3. One detail I like. (My default comment style)

This one covers a lot of scope. If I read to the end of the fic, there's probably something I liked. Maybe

a turn of phrase. "Diluc drinking grape juice like a man chained to an interrogation table. sfjfskkdz" "Bedsheets twisted up like cooked spinach is SO accurate." "Itto-to is such a cute mashup name!" "We have years ahead of us. That was just one day in the past. The feeeeeelllssss" ":) as punctuation" "Barbatos and Nobles as a bookstore. Sdjjsfjdw I love it"

a particular character moment, action, interaction, or dialogue. quote or paraphrase it! "Diluc kicking Childe into the water was hilarious." "Childe is such an adrenaline junkie. I can't believe he would lean out the window while he was driving." "I'm so proud of Zhongli for actually admitting his feelings!"

some specific moment you emotionally reacted to. I've only recently trained myself out of stoic facing through fic. I mean, it's a useful skill, don't get me wrong (especially in public), but it's less useful when it's just me by myself. I now laugh at 3am reading fic, and my life is brighter for it. Comedy fic writers, you are my fave. "Can't get over when Diluc walks in on Kaeya and Childe. AHHHHH!" "Qiqi drying Childe's hair was so sweet!"

Level of effort: you have to actually remember something you liked or reacted to.

The number of movies I watch and number of times someone asks how's my week, and I just stare blankly because I know it was good but don't know anything else? High. So yeah, this isn't trivial.

I've gotten to the point where usually while reading I notice a moment of "wow I love this!" I don't go looking for them (because I want to stay in fic headspace not comment material hunting headspace), and I don't spend much effort trying to remember. If I forget, that's fine. Not like I'm not writing a book review for a grade or anything.

Just, what's a moment you just got to call out? (And bonus, what's your reaction?) Authors out there seem to like to make us feel things. Show them we're just dangling from their puppet strings!

I usually leave comments like this. Just popcorn style, as many things as I remember, whatever comes up as I recall it. I'm aware that sometimes I end up basically quoting a fic back to its author completely out of order interspersed with commentary or keyboard smashes. I'm occasionally embarrassed by how much I'm smashing into their comments, but the reception seems overall positive.

4. Between the lines and spin off thoughts.

Sometimes fic make me think. I mean, canon makes me think, and then people go and make fanworks off of that, so of course I'm bound to run into fic that makes me think. Sometimes the things I notice or think about aren't directly in the text, but implied or spin out thoughts. An interpretation, a mini analysis, or a reflection. Like,

a new thought or take on a character. "Aro-ace Venti! I like this take!" "Please don't break Klee. She's just trying her best to hold all the adults together. Oh no. You've already broken Klee. T_T" "I bet Jean is the only person who could have kicked Diluc's ass, and he really needed it." "Kaeya what are you doooinggg?? Why is he like this???" (An extra note, it's cool to disagree with a character, but not the author. Character did that makes you want to scream? Go for it. Author wrote the character in a way you disagree with? Don't comment. Leave the fic if it bothers you that much.)

noticing foreshadowing or a detail that isn't fully explained / only alluded to. "Is that Scara working at Scarabucks???" "Wait, something about what Venti said makes me think this isn't just a modern day AU ..." "Did that count as a geo construct for the purposes of the contract?"

some sentence or moment somewhere that just hits you in the brain. This one I don't actually know if author's like. On the one hand, I can imagine it being flattering. On the other, maybe it's too personal? I'll usually center these on the characters, kind of like character analysis. "Diluc sharing his anxiety with Kaeya, and that being what made Kaeya look at his own anxiety... really hits. Like, I don't even think Diluc could have said something sooner without Kaeya running, which says so much about how Diluc loves Kaeya. And the fact Kaeya can see this as a mirror of what he's doing and learns something from it. Just. Oof. Wow." "The conversation between Zhongli and Childe is just so real. Like Zhongli is trying so hard but his ass just can't understand Childe just wants him to tell them things and his not telling things is Not Helping even though he just wants to protect the boy!"

Level of effort: some amount of analytical thinking, reflection, or willingness to share when you get sucker punched by words.

This one I absolutely never go looking for, so I don't leave many such comments. When it does come up, it usually smacks me in the face, and I let it (roll with the hit and into the comments). On occasion I am wailing in the comment box when the revelation (like having broken Klee) just dawns on me. Am I Feelings Processing in comment boxes? Uuuhhhhhh, no comment. (Don't mind the lack of delivery on the pun.)

I'd like to think authors appreciate when we reflect back to them we get their interpretation, but I can also imagine it might be a little too much for authors if we get too personal. In which case, sorry. Your work is great! Please take it as my intention to flatter you since you've touched my heart or brain or soul with your words.

5. Craft appreciation.

This one, *head scratches* yeah, I don't often end up here. But sometimes it's not one moment, but something about all the moments, something underlying, or something in the way it was all put together. If I do end up here and write a general statement, I like to point to specific bits that made me think that (which is where I lean back on One Detail I Like). Actually, yeah, usually I use this as flavor to One Detail I Like, but I think it's sufficiently different to pull out separately. It's a writerly meta layer. What falls here?

dialogue. "Your dialogue is so good. I can hear it in in the VA's voice." "I love the contrast between how Zhongli talks and Childe talks."

imagery. "Can't get over the imagery of Childe releasing dandelion scenes. Such a kid!" "Childe sleeping with Tranquil Statlight is just so peaceful."

characterization. "The little nuggets you give characters like Rosaria doing community service at the church for Crimes just gives me life." "I love the way you write Childe. He's so aggressive!"

setting, world building (more for AUs but wow there are some authors good at expanding on canon lore). "Your world building is so cool. Like the abyssal graffiti on the walls?? HNNG!"

writing style. "Your style is very dreamy. <3" "This is genuinely so heartwarming, and yet at the same time what is this underlying feeling of something is wrong????" "I feel like people appreciate the art of comedic one liners but you've got angst one liners. AND THEY SLAY."

pacing, timing. "This fic reads like a high speed express train. It just never stops or slows down!!" "What is this cRaFT! Like. Para 1, comedic. Para 2, thoughtful. Para 3, WHY DO MY HEARTSTRINGS HURT."

use of language. "Using he for POV character and they for the other is LINGUISTICALLY MIND BLOWING." (Please, I want this to catch on more. I do absolutely respect people's pronouns. These fictional characters (and people who have pronoun flexibility)? She and they instead of she and she?? THE CLARITY WE COULD HAVE??!? I'm incredibly greedy for it.)

premise. "Pierro Dad gives me so much life." "The Bachelor but it's Diluc?? Let's go!!"

plot twist, or cliff hanger. "The reveal!!! *screaming*" "I can't believe you would do me like this." (No, I can't in good conscience leave a specific example and give a fic away. Yes, I am thinking of specific fics still.)

Level of effort: be able to map details you like to writer's craft.

Let's not pretend we're here to do crit. Even if we're using writerly words, we are not here to do crit. Well, I am not because I don't believe the comments box is the right time or place for it, but I am happy to lay on the praise and point out the things that worked for me.

Usually, I think it's harder to look across a fic and be like, yeah, the dialogue hit, or this writing style or pacing really does it for me. It's more nebulous. And sometimes it kicks you out of fic reading headspace and into a writerly meta land to notice, so I don't, and I just let the fic wash over me. And if something here strikes me, I will offer my praises. Again, I think it helps to think of this more as an additional kind of One Detail I Like.

Tenets of commenting (and a little of reading)

Okay, so those were some do's, but I also have don't's. These are my boundaries that I keep. Maybe yours are different. I suspect most of these stem from the place, Author did this for free and Owes Me Nothing, so that's the one real tenet. I keep these in mind so that I can keep fic a nice, fun, safe place for me (and hopefully the authors too).

1. I will never ask for updates. I never expect a next chapter.

I've seen enough content creators stressed out and burnt out about putting something out over and over again. I feel for them. That sucks. They probably just started doing it for fun, and now ... The demand and expectation they continue to perform for free? Yeah, it's not going to come from me.

Once upon a time, because of this and a desire to have complete stories, I wouldn't read incomplete fics. I now am The Biggest Fan of incomplete fics. Yes, hang me off the side of a cliff. I will scream at you. And if you don't haul me back up? Well, fine. I'll live. Some other author's got my back. Probably. There's still so much to love between world building, characterization, good moments, jokes -- and you sometimes get the experience of seeing familiar faces screaming at the fic with you update after update. It's precious. It's fleeting. I could go on, but maybe a different day. Back to commenting!

Flip side, as an author, I will say the desire for more is, in one case, why I plan to continue a fic from years ago. I was very firm at the time I would not be extending the one shot, but I guess time changes things, and the fact people were like, I would read more story contributes to that.

So this one is very much a personal tenet. There's some line between I love this so much I want it to continue, and expecting there to be more. Where is it? I don't know. So I just stay away. Surely Author will get I want more if I just say how much I love everything and have commented on their latest chapter. Rather than leave snacks that taste like burn out to some authors, I will focus on other flavors of comments!

2. I will not say what I dislike.

Not my ship? I probably won't read. Not my preferred ship dynamic? Tropes I don't like? Characterization not hitting it for me? Paragraph formatting not doing it for me? I just x out of there, find something I do like. People be writing things for free! Let them have their fun!

If I did read it, snd I stayed, something else must have grabbed my attention. I'll focus on that. Writing style not quite doing it for me but I love the details added to the world? "Wow, the world you flesh out is so complex." No mention about how much of a drag it is to read, because hey, I still read it, and I had reason to not put it down!

3. I will not give corrections.

Authors (and maybe a beta) have put in tremendous effort and time, and to be like, "you missed a typo" or "actually, the canon lore says X" often detracts from the beauty of the shared fic experience. I interpret random grammar and misspeaks and typos in daily conversation and texts all the time. Surely I know enough to employ this skill. And if I figured it out, other readers probably will figure it out too. If I can't, I usually assume the author was too big brain for me and skip merrily along to the next sentence. (And if it's too much for me to handle, I click out.)

Yeah I get it! I get the urge to want to be helpful and contribute to other people's experience! I know that feel! Because, well, I learned this one from experience. I tried once. Watched an author wilt a little when what I wanted was to be helpful. Yeeeaaah, not doing that again.

So, I suspect this often comes off as a little entitled that just by that bit of you say something and kinda underlyingly expect the author to do something about it, and again, Author Owes Me Nothing! Even if the author is asking for a beta, I'd reach out first and make sure they are now in a headspace to be expecting beta thoughts from me.

Wrapping it up

I love fic, the world is rich with it, and I am full of love for authors and their craft. It fills my heart with joy to know I can return a little smile to someone who has let me hop on their ride for free.

It does take effort. Writing comments, turns out, is writing. Writing is a skill, therefore writing comments is a skill. And writing takes practice to improve, so, guess what, writing comments takes practice to improve. Who would've thunk. (Not me, I assure you.)

I've wanted to write this for me for a while, capture what I've learned because I noticed my ability to write comments change over time. Then recently, I was rec'd a fic and told to definitely leave a comment because the author deserves it and I write good comments. Dispatched because I write good comments! Now my commenter feathers are fluffed up, and so I have actually written this. But I definitely didn't start out the comment writer I am today, so I wanted to share that, surprisingly there is a progression path! (Maybe this is only surprising to me.)

I do find commenting adds to my fic reading experience. And I love reading other people's comments. Sometimes other people notice things I didn't or have very cool interpretations, and that is an extra wow right there. (And look at all these other people who like the thing I like!)

And if I leave a comment, sometimes I get a reply! Author noticed my little comment! Extra dose of happy for everyone!

And sometimes, sometimes, (and again I would never expect it, but it is a gift much like fic itself is) an author will write back full of their notes and what they were thinking about writing those moments, and I treasure that so, so much. It's both a delight because of the usual Author saw my effort commenting and I get an extra behind the scenes! The craft behind the craft! (Now how do authors leave good replies? That is still a mystery to me.)

Sometimes I write a lot and then it goes into a black hole, and that's sad. Hmm. I'm pretty sure this is what authors feel when we don't leave comments. Hmm. Guess it's time to write more comments! (Sometimes, like fic updates, replies show up months later, and that's honestly <3)

So, let's go leave some comments and show those authors love and tell them how much they delighted us! Or ... how they smashed our hearts into the ground with angst/no comfort because sometimes that's just what one wants to read.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Dominant! Ghost Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, Heavy BDSM, Edging, Overstimulation, Aftercare, Ownership Kink, Marking, Biting, Petnames, Consensual Dub-Con, Consensual Abuse of Physical Strength, Knife Play, Mentions of Blood, Spit Kink, Cum Play, Rough Sex, Dominant Ghost, Submissive Reader, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, etc.

A/N: This is a repost of an original post of mine which got flagged. If you don't like this kind of content, please don't flag it ! It really hurts us authors and our engagement ! Instead, please consider changing your account viewing preferences so you aren't exposed to unwanted/NSFW content in the future :-). Here is a wonderful post which details how you can do just that <3

You’re his. Simple as.

And he makes sure to remind you - and anyone who crosses your path - on a near-daily basis.

Whenever he sees fit, he’ll just corner you and pin you down, telling you to “Calm down, Pipsqueak – you’re makin’ me hard,” – his way of warning you that whatever he has planned for you will only worsen the more you struggle.

And his bulge against your back is a very visceral promise of that.

Loves forcing your hands beside or above your head; it reminds you both of how much stronger than you he is – how weak and dependent you are compared to him.

How he owns you.

Bites your throat and shoulders, sucking marks, crafting you a necklace of bruises fashioned by him – his own branded jewels of love.

He’ll make sure they’re visible, too.

He needs to ward off other people from you by leaving his mark, his signature.

If he thinks you’re being bratty or uncooperative, he’ll go to any lengths to break you down until you submit to him entirely.

“You’re not making this any easier for yourself, Love,” he says. “Just tell me why you’re being so infuriating and I won’t bleed you this time.”

Massively into knife play.

Loves hearing you squeak and moan whenever he holds a knife to your throat or drags the blunted edge up your thighs, pressing it to your throbbing, aching core and cutting your underwear open, ravaging you.

He’s so rough when he’s in this kind of mood.

Will pound you until you bleed. Or give out and admit your feelings to him. Either will suffice; Ghost is a patient man.

And his stamina and endurance are no joke.

He will outlast you in every faculty.

That’s the territory that comes with being a trained murderer.

And he will remind you of that constantly.

“How does it feel–” he rasps, pants, as he pounds you from behind, the bed jutting with each thrust, “–to know you’re being fucked by a killer,”

The question is always rhetorical. He just revels in the feeling of you clenching around him when he recalls just how easily he could end you right here, right now.

But he doesn’t. And he never would.

He loves you far, far too much.

But that doesn’t stop him from being straight-up disrespectful.

Orders you to open your mouth, only for him to spit into it whenever he knows or suspects you’re being untruthful.

Also loves covering you in his cum.

His favourite thing is to cum inside you and watch it ooze from whichever holes he’s chosen to abuse that day, but something about covering you in it makes him feral.

Edges you constantly.

Uses your release as a bartering chip.

“Tell me why you’re being such a brat and I’ll let you cum.”

It’s a trap. Your honesty is punished, too.

Once he tears a satisfactory answer from you, he’ll let you - make you - cum.

And as your orgasm is still rolling through you, he’ll keep going. And going. And going.

At first you could assume it’s his bid to fulfil his own needs, but even after he finishes inside you and he simply doesn’t relent, realisation dawns on you.

Your insides are aching, pleading for a moment’s respite. But Ghost doesn’t stop, battering your hole and keeping it stretched over his bulging cock.

There comes a point where you’re banging your fists against his chest, begging him to stop because you’re so sensitive and it hurts, but he ignores you.

“If I were to let up that easily, I wouldn’t get to have any fun. Quite unfair after I let you cum, isn’t it?”

Looks into your eyes as he does it, too.

Will tie you up if he finds your cries and flails to be too bothersome.

Binds you to the bedposts so there’s nothing you can do but watch and feel as he slams into you at such a harsh, killing rhythm that has you thinking whatever’s leaking out of you right now is blood.

Very much into BDSM.

Will use his strength to bend you into whatever shape your body will allow and bind your limbs together, making it entirely impossible for you to break free as he has his way with you.

“You’re mine,” he’d say, grinding the shape of his cock into your walls; and all the while you’re moaning, crying, tears streaming down your face as euphoria tightens in your centre. “Nobody else can have you - please you - the way I can.”

Big fan of punishment, btw.

There are times where he puts you in a cage and just cums on you, making you stay there until his semen is crusting on your skin, makeshift scales on the creature Simon has reduced you to.

Also gets a kick out of spanking you, either with a belt or his hand.

When he’s feeling particularly cruel, he makes you count them until you reach the limit he has set for you.

And Heaven forbid you lose count, or you both start all over again.

Ghost likes to make sure that every time you try to sit down, you remember him – what he did to you.

When all is said and done, however, when you’re used and stuffed and Ghost is milked dry, he is the king of aftercare.

Will make sure all your needs are seen to, regardless of how oddly specific they are.

Simon will not let you move a muscle, even if you insist you can “go another round,” he’ll push you back down onto the bed.

“Oh no, you’re staying put, Sweetheart.” he says, looking down at you with all the fondness of one who has discovered love for the first time. “I’m scared you’ll break if we go again.”

He’s joking, ofc.

Secretly loves to snuggle. All the time.

And he holds you as you’re drifting off to sleep, keeping you flush against his chest, wondering how he got so lucky to have met you.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[suddencolds]

I have come to claim the honor of being your first #yvverse fan-artist

Yves, “The Worst Timing | [4/5]”

AJFKLHKSEJXHEJOIAFESJLXIOFEHJ OH MY GOD STEPH??? NO WAY!!!!!!!!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW I SMILED OPENING UP TUMBLR TO THIS!?!??! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I LOVE THIS WITH ALL MY HEART!!!!! (Will keep my screaming imprisoned under the cut but I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABT THIS)

I'M SO EXCITED THAT YOU DREW YVES????? AFJKHLSJAFJKX omg his sideview is so pretty here, his hair looks SO soft and fluffy (also the low ponytail in the back is just PERFECT 😭😭 The bands twisting around his ponytail are such a nice detail!!! I LOVE YOUR ART STYLE SM??? 🧎‍♀️)

Even unwell, he looks so gentlemanly 🥹❤️❤️ (side note I remember you mentioned in the tags that pt 4 gave you a feeling of like, blue filters/cold lighting, and I feel like your art captures that really well?? Something about this feels so somber 😭). I love his faraway expression + slightly unfocused gaze!! He looks so exhausted and out of it, which is exactly how I imagined him 😭😭😭 Your ability to capture like all the intricacies of how he's feeling in his expression is really something special!!!!

ALSO THE POEM YOU WROTE IS SO LOVELY??? 😭😭 It's so cool to see a poem that accompanies the text??? I don't think anyone has ever written a poem for me before 😭 (as a side note, I feel like the moment you chose to frame is like, so visceral/dreamlike, as Yves experiences it, which really lends itself well to the tone you used!!)

I love the contrast btwn the tethered-ness + the anchor imagery (generally, the clever reframing of the expectations he's put upon himself as something grounded and tangible / something that holds weight) and the subsequent weightlessness. I also really love the reference at the start and the end to "in two seconds," bc it places him in like, this really interesting split-second moment of panic/uncertainty 🥹 Like a turning point, of sorts, where (also "days overdue" hurts my heart 😭😭😭😭😭 poor Yves omg)

ALSO THE SLIP TO HIS NATIVE TONGUE!! The reference to time flying (I imagine that in the moment, it feels like an eternity to him?? But it's also such a fascinating thing for him to take note of in the moment - that he feels so many things in such a short amount of time, but even for his awareness there's nothing he can act on anymore). ALSO THE FALLING??? FALLING DOWN STAIRS (clumsy Yves 😭😭 he's so silly) AND FALLING IN LOVE. (!!!!!!!) I love your use of space here and how intentional it feels (and perhaps ironic) that we get a break in the text here, a breath of relief that makes the subsequent words feel even more breathless... HE IS NOT AFRAID OF FALLING... IT IS THE RUSH THAT HE WILL NEVER GET USED TO???? OH MY GOD. WHAT IF I CRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS LOVELY GIFT!!?!??!? SEEING THIS MADE MY DAY

[livingfictionsystem]

BOOK REVIEW: 4/5

Alright, we're back with one of the most aggressively queer writers I've been keeping an eye on. I had a lot of thoughts about this book, so we'll get down to it.

First of all, a very visceral novel about queer solidarity in the face of oppression. I ADORED Daphne and I learned to love Mary. If you're a fan of queer RAGE, this is a very satisfying read. LGBTQIA+ representation is what this author excels in. Lesbians, pansexuals, trans people, autism. The thing with AJW, I occasionally find myself annoyed with how often their first-person protagonist stops and explains dysphoria, transness, and autism to the audience. But I also realize that they're probably trying to explain this to cis and neurotypical people who are likely not familiar, so while it annoys me, I've learned not to fault it.

That being said, welcome to Trauma Fest 2023! If you have a trigger, it's likely to be hit. White tends to include a list of trigger warnings, which is lovely, and also warns you that they're a fan of gore. And I mean, G-O-R-E.

I don't consider myself having a weak stomach in regards to books, but White's descriptions can even leave me gagging. That's not a complaint, by the way, I'm just impressed. I love the way emotions are described---seeing the world through a stressed-out, autistic lens was, uh, familiar.

That being said, this didn't come without its problems. First of all, this is set in Victorian England. Well, sort of. Though there is some exposition about how the main character's autism clashes with the notoriously 3D social chess of Victorian culture, this is really only used as an aesthetic backdrop. The characters' dialogue is no different than if they were plucked straight from American Zillennials. I almost dissociated the only time a 'bloody' was dropped by people who had been cursing the entire time. White admits in the note in the back that they were only trying for meager accuracy, but it really seemed like they wanted to have an aesthetic but also an air of oppression. And for Victorian society, as absolutely hedonistic they tended to be behins closed doors, I'm a little bored of the Victorian=OPPRESSION trope. Queerness was illegal, but it was prevalent enough that it's sort of at odds with the utterly dystopian plot devices the book utilizes. Kind of took me out of it sometimes and really felt more like the Handmaid's Tale than London. (Though for Daphne to have a Greek obsession was definitely a nod to the culture back then. Not sure if White meant to do that.) Also, they didn't consider mentioning over-bust corsets? That would've been ideal.

Also, the trauma was Too much. Anything and everything deplorable that has ever happened to an AFAB person happens here in canonic and sometimes graphic detail. While it succeeded in horrifying me and creating suspense, it really bordered on torture porn.

Ghosts are also a main mechanic of this world, but it's not really described *how.* There's a shifty society, mediums are societally recognized and even used in the economy, all very cloak-and-dagger. But every description leaves more questions than answers.

Also, I think the author has only four characters at any given time they can build up. It was sort of funny how the sanitorium was full of other children, but the plot itself more or less forgot that was the case.

All of the villains were completely one-note, just absolute revolting people who would hurt any innocents the moment they got the chance. Not much build-up, just---Character gets alone with Bad Person, is tormented/beaten/mutilated/worse, repeat. They seem like caricatures. I was a little surprised that they weren't eating puppies for dinner, or tying people to railroad tracks. The supposed justification for the sadism was a bit weak, but put-together enough to spark outrage.

But you do feel outrage. You crave vengeance like the spirits mentioned. The author is a master of building suspense, of describing what it's like to feel backed against the wall, for all of those feral feelings of survival and community to bleed together. Overall, a wonderful queer gothic horror story about survival and revenge, particularly if you ignore the snags.

-Rune 💠

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

Death Stranding Novels liveblog for @c8h7n3o2

VOLUME 1

Book lines: Bold Text

And. Well! That's certainly a start!

He was dreaming? Sort of, not really. It then moves into the opening scene of the game, with Sam and Fragile in the cave taking shelter. Of course, it's told from Sam's point of view, so it's a little more detailed.

When she gives her name and offers her hand, we get:

Sam frowned. He didn't have time for this. He pretended not to notice her offer and made his way over to his pack.

Oh it expands to other characters a little too, now we get an Igor perspective. That's nice. I like that.

So. Sam can tell how far along a death is because of his DOOMS. Least as far as Igor can assume.

So he could touch a corpse but couldn't bear to shake the hand of a living person?

Well, a corpse won't establish a human connection eh Igor?

Igor babbles along as they get going, and he notes (to himself) that he doesn't even care if Sam's listening or not, he just has to chatter to stay sane.

Logical to me.

The Beach was a place between the world of the living and the world of the dead. It supposedly wasn't part of the physical world, but a special 'place' that existed in a different dimension.

Interesting.

When they (people with DOOMS) tried to explain what they were able to see, they often described the world of the dead as an ocean and the boundary that connected that world with this one as a beach.

And, as we know, every person has their own beach.

The sea, mother of all life, became synonymous with the place the dead returned to. And when the dead crawled out of that ocean and across the Beach to become stranded in this world, it became known as the Death Stranding.

I guess you could think of it as a sort of.. catastrophic collision of two dimensions.

Kinda like Higgs mask huh?

The BTs couldn't see Sam or Igor. They sought out the living by homing in on breathing or other sounds.

Yet they have impeccable aim when they yoink me in game.

The driver kept screaming. Those screams were proof that he was alive. Those screams were giving the dead something to aim for as they swarmed closer.

Terrifying. It's terrifying in game AND in text.

Oh. Hi Higgs. Tail ending a mercy kill eh?

Igor repeatedly stabbing himself until he finally hits his heart, desperately trying to die before he can trigger a voidout is a fairly brief paragraph yet pretty visceral.

And the voidout occurs regardless.

JDJDJDJDJDJHDDJ Sam vs Handshakes is amusing from his point of view. This time it's Deadman he's ignoring.

Sam ignored it. He couldn't shake someone's hand like that. Moreover, he couldn't think of a single reason to shake this man's hand. Especially when he was responsible for cuffing a sleeping man to a bed.

Wah. Sam

We're on the second (or third?) spider metaphor. Sensible. There's a lot of spider imagery in game.

America had fallen. It had fallen before the eyes of her freshly repatriated adopted son.

That being Die Hardman thinking is pretty telling, because Die Hardman and the deceased Bridget are the only ones who know the truth about Sam, at this moment.

I love that we get everyone's POV depending on who's POV is vital to the scene happening.

Sam is, rightfully, grompy.

.. Talking to BB in his head is very cute I must say.

AWWW-

Hmm.

Deadman, Sam and Die Hardman are with the Amelie hologram to recruit Sam, but Deadman has an interesting thought regarding the terrorists.

If people like that were going to reject any form of connection, then Deadman wished they would just love out their lives and keep to themselves. But since violence and terrorist acts were also a kind of communication, didn't it mean they also craved connection?

To Deadman, that was the fundamental question that needed answering.

Sam reminisces about the America of Old Bridget showed him in movies and the like, the Pre-Stranding world, and wrestles with himself with a little flavour of self loathing that makes me wanna hug him.

[littlespoonevan]

You can't say you have a specific call or scene in mind for those music choices and not share!!!

Anonymous asked: https://www.tumblr.com/littlespoonevan/752482136680005632/now-that-i-know-all-your-favourite-music-moments Can you tell us about the song call related that wins ?

okay i feel like i should've clarified i don't have like, Detailed scenes for most of those songs - just a general idea for the type of scene/call i could see it in askjdfhs but here is my take anyway:

I Was Made For Lovin’ You - KISS

ironically, i had an idea forever ago about a call to a movie set where an action stunt goes wrong so given this was the main song in the fall guy it feels very appropriate lmao. basically in my head there exists an episode about best friends where they keep getting calls about best friends and in this particular call, the two best friends are the stunt actors one and one of them confesses their love to the other in the midst of their panicked tangent while the other one is hurt/getting treated (yes this hypothetical episode ends with buddie feelings realisation obviously aksjdfh)

Barracuda - Heart

okay i don't have a specific scene for this but i do think it should match the energy of buck and eddie standing on top of the firetruck as it's moving to catch that sky diver in 3x11, like show me them doing something Cool

Time of the Season - The Zombies

i actually wanted this to be in the blackout arc lol. i think i was even talking to someone about it at the time too??? basically i thought it'd be Great as an opening montage song a la pressure in 2x01. and in line with that, i also think it'd be Great montage song if there was another heatwave (buddie secret relationship making out at the side of the firetruck a la bathena yes/yes?????)

California Dreamin’ - The Mamas & Papas

i wanted this to be in the season 6 opener askdjh i think it was when we were still theorising about the bathena cruise in s6 and the potential of a storm????? again, a very good opening montage song that could be a harbinger of an incoming disaster (i do believe it would work really well for a storm since you have the rain sounds at the beginning of the song and the contradiction of the lyrics)

Gimme, Gimme, Gimme - ABBA

i also wanted this to be in the blackout arc lmfao. look, when i accidentally predicted the blackout arc back in the summer before s5 i had a way more fUN arc planned in my head than what happened and having the lyrics 'Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away? Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Take me through the darkness to the break of the day' as part of an ep about a blackout is just very funny

i don't really have a specific call in mind for it but i do have a viscerally vivid image of buck jumping down from the truck like he did in the first call in treasure hunt while that song is playing overhead. also some people in the tags have suggested it playing on a call to a gay bar and i'd be very in favour of that askdjhf

Rasputin - Boney M.

this was originally the song i wanted playing in the stunt gone wrong scene lol

Everybody (Backstreet’s Back) - Backstreet Boys

i did literally just think of this one as i was making the poll but it would be so FUN!!!! halloween ep obviously, idk what context, but something along the lines of chim and the crow would be very funny. maybe something vampire-y/werewolf-esque to keep in theme with the music video. either way it should play during a call where the 118 is Freaked Out in an amusing way 👻

the poll is still active for another few hours if people feel like voting!! 🥰