#if anyone knows a site like what I'm looking for drop it in the comments

[dorabellingham]

Womanizer

warning: none, just a man humiliating himself

characters: jude x reader

summary: when rumors come out that your boyfriend cheated on you, but he would never do that

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The morning started with a tension that you didn't know where it was coming from. You woke up alone, Jude's side of the bed empty, which wasn't exactly strange since he often left early for training. However, the constant vibration of your cell phone, with messages and notifications that didn't stop arriving, started to make her restless.

You picked up your phone and as you swiped across the screen, you began to see what was going on. A flood of messages from friends, followers, and even media acquaintances, asking if he was ok, sending links to gossip sites and ambiguous comments about "a video of Jude".

Your stomach sank.

Clicking on one of the links took you directly to a video that seemed to be going viral fast. The title was sensational: Jude Bellingham caught cheating on his girlfriend with two women at a party!

In the video, he appeared clearly drunk, his face slightly flushed and his movements uncoordinated. He was on a boat, with music blaring and lights flashing. The video angle wasn't the best, but enough to generate a flood of boats. He was hugging a woman, who you quickly recognized as a player's wife, his close friend in the trophy wife/girlfriend group. However, the problem arose soon after. The video showed Bellingham turning his face away, and because of the camera angle, it looked like he was kissing another woman on the side, who was completely different from you. He was hugging one and apparently kissing another. Your heart sped up, a mix of shock, pain and disbelief overwhelming her. You knew Jude drank at parties from time to time, but you had never seen him so drunk that he seemed out of control. And, even worse, the video left no room for defense —even if you wanted to believe otherwise, the images shown were devastating.

You dropped your cell phone, your hands shaking, and brought your hands to your face, feeling tears welling up. "How could this be happening?"

You trusted him, you knew someone you shared your life with for so many years, but this video... it was impossible to ignore. Social media was in full swing, already painting Jude as a womanizer, someone who cheated on his girlfriend easily and without remorse. Your chest feels tight. More messages kept coming, until one of them caught his attention. It was his wife who appeared in the video, his friend, clearly not understanding anything.

—Y/n, I swear this is a misunderstanding. I was there and none of that happened! Jude was drunk, but he didn't kiss anyone. This angle is all wrong!

The message was followed by one more.

—I'm so devastated that they saying these things, I swear it didn't happen.

But, no matter how much the woman tried to explain, the images spoke louder. You felt lost, not knowing what to do or who to believe.

A short time later, your boyfriend entered the apartment, unaware that chaos had already spread. The smile on his face quickly disappeared when you saw his face swollen from crying.

—What happened, babe?

He asked, immediately worried, heading towards you. You, without the strength to respond, just took out your cell phone and showed him the video, without saying a word. Jude took out your phone, watching the video carefully. When he finished, he was pale, his eyes wide with surprise and frustration.

—That... that didn't happen, love. I swear, I didn't do anything! I was drunk, yes, but... that's the wrong angle. I don't even know who this woman is!

He was visibly upset, but his explanation didn't impress the whirlwind of emotions you felt.

—I... I don't know what to think, Jude. You murmured, your voice cracking.—Look at this video. How am I supposed to believe this didn't happen? Everyone is talking about it, everyone saw it!

You stood up from the couch, running your hands through your hair nervously, trying to process everything. Jude moved closer, trying to touch you, but you backed away, which made his heart sink even more.

—Y/n, you have to believe me. I would never do that to you. I don't even remember doing that, because it didn't happen! My friend from the team was with me, just talking, and this video is distorting everything.

You looked at him, tears filling your eyes again.

—But you were hugging her, and... and then you turn around and it looks like you're kissing someone else. How can I just ignore this, Jude? People are already painting you as a cheater, a... a womanizer. This is everywhere.

He sighed, running his hands over his face, visibly stressed.

—I know how it sounds, but please listen to me. I love you, Y/n. I would never cheat on you. This is a horrible misunderstanding, and I'm going to clear it all up. I will talk to everyone, post something accurate. But you have to believe me.

You desperately wanted to believe, but the confusion and pain were overwhelming.

—I need time to process this, Jude. I don't know what to do.

He was on the verge of despair.

—Please, babe, don't let this destroy us. I'm going to do what I need to do to renew this.

You, emotionally exhausted, just nodded, tears silently streaming down your face.

He nodded, clearly devastated.

—Okay... okay. But I won't give up on you. I'll prove I didn't do anything.

The boy left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts, while the world outside continued to discuss the scandal.

ps: I divided this into two parts, would you like the second part?

[peachesandcreames]

What Are We? Pt. 4

A/N: Heavy on the angst with this one. Plane crash injuries. Vomit, blood and some vulgarity. Mentions of God, religion and atheism. That's everything, I think. As always all mistakes are my own and minors are strictly FORBODEN. You and you alone are responsible for your reading choices. Happy reading everyone 📚! Likes, hearts, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!! Much love ❤

Coyote's POV:

Somewhere in the California Desert:

Pain. That's the first thing that came to Coyote's mind as he unhooked himself from his deflated parachute. His left arm at an odd angle, he grimaced as he looked down at it. Definitely dislocated, possibly broken. This is going to hurt he thought as he braced himself against the jagged rock wall.

He braced himself as best as he could and painfully shoved his arm back into the socket. "Son of a bitch!" Echoed in the vast darkness as Coyote popped his arm back into place. He spit blood into the sand and looked around for any sign of Hangman. He finally spotted Jake's white parachute tangled in some trees and Coyote saw his limp body dangling from the treetops. He ran over to where Jake was and grabbed onto his booted foot and started shaking him.

"Shit, Jake. C'mon man, ya gotta wake up. Please. " Coyote leaned against the base of the tree and hung his head. He lowered himself onto the ground and leaned his head against Jake's foot and felt the despair begin to settle in.

Jake's POV:

Pain. His whole body wracked with pain and something or someone leaning on his leg. Excruciating pain shot through Jake's head as he tried to look and see who or what it was. He couldn't see anything so he kicked whoever or whatever it was and he heard a faint "ow." Coyote looked up just in time for Jake's foot to kick him in the head.

"What the fuck, man." Coyote yelped as he pulled himself up using Jake's long legs to help. "Get me down from here." Jake groaned as the pressure in his head erupted and he leaned over and emptied the contents of his stomach. "I think that I'm going to be sick," Javy whined.

"Don't be a pussy," Jake spat as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Javy tossed him his pocket knife as Jake cut himself from his harness and fell to the arid desert ground with a thud. Coyote helped untangle Jake from his parachute and shoved it back into the bag. Jake laid there for a second, the wind knocked out of him as he took stock of his injuries. His head was pounding like he had the worst hangover known to mankind.

His whole body ached bone deep, he felt like he had been run over and dragged by a semi truck over broken glass but I guess that's what happens when you crash your grade A military fighter jet going at top speed. He didn't think that anything was seriously wrong, he just hurt like hell. Possibly a concussion and broken ribs. But it could have been a lot worse, Jake didn't believe in God but by the grace of he and Javy were going to walk out of the desert alive and in one piece. Javy helped him to stand and slung one of Jake's arms over his shoulders and they started walking towards the crash site.

They limped towards the wreckage and stood together in stunned silence. They held onto each other as they stared at the crashed fighter jet and Javy dropped Jake's arm and scrambled over the smoking wreckage and started digging around. "What are you looking for, man? There's nothing left that can help us." Jake heard Javy exclaim triumphantly as he held something small and dark in color above his head. "It's the radio, it might still work. Let them know that we're ok and maybe I can give them our location."

Jake watched as Coyote fiddled with the radio, trying to get a signal. Jake shook his head and started to say that it was useless when he heard it crackle to life. "Command central, this is Lt. Javy Machado and Lt. Jake Seresin we had to eject before we could get coordinates for our last known location. Is anyone out there?" The radio crackled once and went silent and Coyote looked over his shoulder as Jake hung his head in dejection. Javy was about to say that they should pick a direction and start walking when the radio crackled to life, "this is Admiral Johannsson we have military search and rescue on the way, stay where you are. They'll be there shortly. "

Javy clasped the radio to his chest and said a silent thank you to whoever was looking out for them. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Jake look up at the starry night sky and Javy knew that Jake was thinking about Y/N. Coyote made his way back over to Jake and clapped his shoulder and relayed the message and Jake nodded in acknowledgement. They stood together in thankful silence as they saw the lights and heard the sirens of the rescue team. A team of paramedics ushered Jake and Javy out of the way and into the back of the ambulance and put hypothermic blankets over their shoulders and started tending to their wounds.

One paramedic was putting Javy's left arm in a sling to stabilize it. Jake got the brunt of the injuries, as a paramedic shined a flashlight in his eyes. "Lt. Seresin, you have a concussion. Can you tell me what day it is?" Jake winced at the light and muttered "it's Tuesday, I think." She slipped the pen flashlight back into her breast pocket and nodded as she wrote something onto a piece of paper attached to a clipboard.

"Good, are you feeling nauseous or have you vomited within the last few hours?" Javy raised his right hand and answered the question for him. "Yes Ma'am, Hangman's vomit is currently on the ground. It was nasty." She cracked a small smile and made another note on the clipboard. "Alright Lieutenant, I want you to stand up please and let me know if you have any trouble balancing, feelings of dizziness or blurry and or double vision?" Jake stood up and wobbled on his feet.

She watched as he swayed on his feet and made more notes on his chart. "Feeling woozy? Sluggish? Hazy? Foggy? Sensitive to light and sound? Disoriented? Can't concentrate?" Jake nodded "All of the above, ma'am." She jotted down some more notes and helped Hangman sit back down. She took his blood pressure and made one final notation and indicated that he should lay down on the stretcher. "Is that really necessary?" he was barely able to get the question out as she put an oxygen mask over his face.

"Better safe than sorry, Lieutenant." She jumped out of the back of the ambulance and before she could slam the doors shut Jake struggled to sit up and he removed the oxygen mask, "wait! Where are you taking us? Can you please let my girl know that I'm ok? Please?" Hangman gave his best puppy dog eyes and she looked over her shoulder to make sure that nobody was watching her as she climbed back in and sat next to Coyote. She ripped off a piece of paper and wrote down the information that Jake gave to her. She slipped it in her back pocket and jumped out of the ambulance and before slamming the door she said "Gentlemen, you get an all expenses paid trip to the lovely and scenic Naval Hospital in Camp Pendleton. We hope you enjoy your stay." Jake groaned as he collapsed back onto the stretcher as the ambulance lit up the night sky and his only thought was of you. He whispered your name and thought of you as the darkness claimed him.

Y/N POV:

Back at the base camp word had quickly spread like wildfire that Hangman and Coyote had been found alive and being transported to the Naval Hospital at Camp Pendleton. Rooster didn't have the heart to wake you up but he knew that there would be hell to pay if he didn't. He looked down at you as gently snored and a little bit of drool was pooling in the corner of your mouth. He reached a big hand up to your shoulder and gently started shaking you awake. "Y/N, time to rise and shine. They found Jake and Javy, they're being transported to the hospital right now."

You groggily cracked one eye open and picked your head up off of something hard. You looked up into Rooster's honey brown eyes and he gave you an impish smile. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. They found your Prince Charming." You shot up out of your chair, almost toppling it backwards as the blanket tumbled from your shoulders. You weren't sure if you were hearing him correctly and you just stared at him.

You stood there as comprehension slowly dawned on you. They found them. They found Jake and Javy. You stared at Rooster, not knowing what to say as you felt every single emotion from confusion and disbelief to utter euphoria. You felt the tears begin to form behind your eyes as you felt yourself sinking to the ground.

Before your knees could hit the ground, Rooster caught you and pulled you into his embrace. You began sobbing uncontrollably and he rocked you back and forth as he let you get it out of your system. You clung onto him as sobs painfully wracked your body. You felt the warmth of Rooster's big hand as he soothingly rubbed your back. He handed you a tissue as you tried to pull yourself back together.

Rooster stood up and he reached out a hand and pulled you up and onto your feet. You smiled weakly up at him as you heard a commotion further up the command post. You both looked over and saw a paramedic searching the crowd with her eyes. A piece of crumpled up paper in her hand. You two made eye contact with each other and she started to make her way through the crowd towards where you and Rooster were standing.

"Are you Y/N?" Rooster heard you audibly gulp and you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. What if something happened to them on the way to the hospital. She reached out to hand you the piece of paper and your hand was visibly shaking as you took it from her. She looked at you with compassion in her eyes as you struggled to open the note. You were shaking like a leaf in the frigid fall air as Rooster took pity on you and gently took the crumpled up piece of paper from your hands and thanked the paramedic as she nodded and disappeared into the night.

You shut your eyes and took a deep, calming breath and you heard the paper rustling as Rooster opened the note and gave it a quick glance as he looked over at you standing still with your face turned up towards the night sky as you felt a soft breeze against your skin. You felt something warm touch your upper arm and you wiped away tears of relief with the back of your hand and you reach over and take the note from him and grasp his hand in a quick show of your appreciation for him being there for you. Rooster nodded at you and stepped away to speak with Maverick and Phoenix and to give you some space to read Jake's note. You braced yourself and opened up the folded paper. It wasn't Jake's handwriting so you figured that he must have gotten the paramedic to write it.

Y/N, I won't tell you not to worry because that's what you do best. We're OK, a little banged and bruised but nothing more serious than some scrapes. We're currently at the Naval Hospital in Camp Pendleton, I really want to see you.

Yours Forever, Jake.

You could feel the tears forming again behind your eyes but they didn't fall. You pulled yourself together as best as you could and you made your way towards your sister. You could feel Rooster and Maverick staring at you, their concern for you radiating off of them. You gave them a weak smile and stood next to Nat. You needed your big sister now more than ever and she could sense that.

You hugged Rooster and Maverick and thanked them for everything. Rooster walked with you towards Nat's car and opened up the door for you and you hugged him again and kissed his cheek as you settled yourself into the passenger seat. You buckled yourself in as you saw Nat say a few words to Rooster and Mav as you let your head rest against the seat and you looked out the window at the horizon as the inky blackness of the night sky gradually gave way to morning. You were bone tired and you could only begin to imagine how exhausted Jake and Javy must be. Surviving a near fatal plane crash must have been beyond terrifying.

You had no more tears to cry so you gave silent thanks to whoever was listening and you heard Nat say goodbye to Rooster and Maverick and she started the car and looked over at you. She smiled at you and you gave her one in return. You finally felt like you could breathe easier as Phoenix started the car and she said "Camp Pendleton?" You nodded in agreement and you felt yourself drifting off as you and Nat made the journey towards the hospital and you couldn't wait to see Jake again and make sure that he and Javy were okay. As you fell asleep, you dropped the note that Jake had written for you and Phoenix picked it up carefully and her curiosity got the better of her, she rolled to a stop at the red light and read what Jake had written to you. In the early dawn hours there was nobody else on the road so as the light turned green Phoenix folded up the note and gently put it in the glove box for safe keeping.

Driving on the back roads gave Phoenix plenty of time for contemplation. Everything happened so quickly, your parents untimely passing, the house back home still needs to be packed up and put on the market, you had only been in California for a few months and still hadn't fully settled in yet. Now another set back with Hangman getting hurt and you still haven't come to terms with everything that has happened to you in such a short period of time. Phoenix wondered when the universe would give you a chance to catch your breath and she whispered a silent prayer that you could finally get a break and a chance to be happy and Nat seriously hoped that once the dust settled you'd see a future for yourself in California.

~Fin~

(Until next time 😉)

@the-romanian-is-bae @hangmandruigandmav @maddithehugenerd @86laura11 @80pairsofcrocs @hardballoonlove @caitsymichelle13 @bellaireland1981 @halibshepherd @crazybeautiful1987 @rosiahills22 @roostersforevergirl @planetch1ld @quafflewaffle97 @killmyhyunmin @lovinghimisneverenough @drunk-on-hwa @kennediijordan @cdntheblackhearts @runningawayfromsociety @shelbycillian @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @rosedurin @luna-lovethegood @chlo-lo14 @themusingofagothicsoul @jason-toddbandit @rascallyrascals @kyleeisahotmess @queenslandlover-93 @emma8895eb @petehangmankazansky24 @thefantasticreadingsofadri @milber32 @ellianwhite @mamaskillerqueen @kyliesalvatore @lynnestra44 @djs8891 @hookslove1592 @beautifulandvoid @comicgollum20 @erindiggory @tonkatesuramen @fandom-life-12 @tootser98 @jakeyzzz @scarlettwidow19 @mrsevans90 @jessa-21

[anamelessfool]

A Naming (part 4 of 5)

Rated Teen, Papa Emeritus II’s Son and Family

Tags: Halloween Hijinks, Eldest Kid anxiety, Suburban Dad Secondo, Disabled Secondo, Post-Retirement Life, Magic Rituals, My AU with Secondo being Papa from 2001-2008

CW: Underage Drinking, Strong Language

Secondo arrives in the hearse from the family’s memorial home.

Dedicated to @kissingghouls thanks for cheering me on you’re my little Hell Pumpkin 🎃 I;m on AO3 same name with all my other fics but this site gets mad at me when I post links. Check out #anamelessfool Halloween tag for prev chapters, comments include prev chapters and start link. #anamelessfool Halloween start is the beginning of this fic.

At first, Paul’s fear from the rocks’ continued harassment was overshadowed by the slow march of his father over to the picnic spot. The man was in no hurry as he picked his way over the unsteady ground, the crutch that supported his withered leg feeling for solid spots as he approached.

“Just…wait,” said Paul. “It’s my dad.”

“Mr. Leider—?” The corpse-grinder. The man with dead folks on ice. The retired rockstar Hell Priest of Satan. Paul’s dad.

Paul’s friends froze in place, now ignoring the small rocks bouncing off their heads as Secondo approached with the Eye uncovered and shining silver-white. The light from the hearse headlights reflected off his bare scalp and down the side of his carved head. To anyone outside his own progeny the man was a terrifying pillar of relentless severity, but small tells hinted to Paul that a river of stress was flooding its banks. For one, he did not bother to conceal his monstrous Eye. And two, he was chewing on a toothpick. Paul knew they were going to be rescued, but he had no idea the cost.

Secondo reached into his jacket and pulled out a lighter, igniting the flame. His whole face curled into a deep sneer, a wrathful expression moments before a bite. He opened his mouth, teeth glinting, brows intensely furrowed, Infernal Eye blazing.

And then he gave a shout. Except it didn't sound like a true shout. Paul heard the first rough syllable, then his hearing blanked out despite feeling the roar. It was loud, menacing, but not in the air. Instead it tugged at his mind. At once his father’s mouth closed as his face relaxed back into its usual sternness.

And the tension in the atmosphere was gone.

“It's rebuked,” said Secondo, reaching once more into his jacket. He replaced his older toothpick with a new one at the corner of his mouth. “It's surprised I'm here.”

Paul found his voice and exchanged tense glances with his friends. “What…was…”

“Look,” said Secondo.

The rocks started up again but this time slowly, avoiding the teens as they stood rooted to the floor. Watching them materialize and then fall as if puppeted by invisible strings was more terrifying than the random drop above their heads. Paul hadn't conjured up the rocks. Something was responding, actively tormenting the kids with careful gestures.

“What is it….doing?” Paul asked.

“Trying to impress me.” But Secondo's stony face looked far from impressed. Secondo stood beside his son and Paul avoided his eyes while feeling the stares from the other kids burn across his back.

“How did you…even know?” But Paul didn't need to really ask.

Secondo dropped an item in Paul’s hand, shocking him with the temperature. It was a small vial of fluid, inexplicably frozen solid. “Now what page did you use.”

Paul hastily leafed through the journal and brought the circle up to his father's eyes. Secondo studied it for a few moments, expressionless. “Money attraction?”

So completely the wrong one. “Uh…it rained coins for a few minutes, you know,” Paul joked nervously. Behind them another shower of gravel scattered on the floor right in front of Tiff's face and she let out a scream.

“Tell your friends the screaming makes it worse,” explained the old magician.

“Yeah but I'm sorry please help us please! Dad!”

“I can't. It's tied to you.” Secondo leaned down and positioned his expression closer to Paul’s own. “You called it. It wants you.”

“But what do I…what do I do….”

“I could frighten it away again but it would come back. It would follow all your friends home and be bolder without me watching.” A muscle tensed in Secondo's jaw. “No. No you have to be the one to exorcise it. Now. While it's young.”

Whatever controlled the rocks now changed its tactics. The gravel materialized, floated down to a foot above the ground and then slammed hard onto the concrete, bouncing in all directions. The amount of control it had over matter was astounding. Not to mention the chokehold it had over Paul and his friends. “Everyone stay calm,” said Paul, and in other circumstances the kids would start arguing with him. Instead they clumped together struggling not to cry.

“Name. Contain. Release,” continued Secondo. “That’s how it’s done. However you want to do it.”

Paul screwed up his eyes tight and realized he wasn’t breathing. He let out the air in his lungs in one slow sigh, feeling the tide of emotions in their spin cycle. He had to pull them apart, give them a name like his father taught him to do. As always he imagined himself picking them up like small animals, pressing his hand down on their heads as he sorted. Fear, shame, confusion. Humiliation.

And there was something else, just outside his perception. Something there, a buzzing energy concentrated in the far left corner of the picnic area. It wriggled as much as his own fear, pulsing with an independent excitement. Is this what Secondo meant? Is this what he had to name?

“I…I feel something but I don’t know what to do,” Paul whispered.

Secondo’s voice was a low murmur right by his ear. “Continue on. Things called to you have a name. It’s there.”

It wasn’t human, so it made sense for the thing to not have a human name. It had to be something strange. Paul reached out with his mind, his hand following in the direction he felt the roiling presence. The space had a temperature now, ice cold, and the entity rustled and grew in excitement, all at once stamping a phrase directly into Paul’s brain.

Paul opened his eyes, pulled out his chalk and wrote what came to mind on the concrete.

XIRRZARCHEMENT

“Contain,” Paul said. He drew a circle around it. “Release…” He looked up, the kids around him still mesmerized with what he was doing. They were too terrified to comment or judge or joke or smile. Every few seconds a rock would fall beside one of them; a reminder of their paranormal harassment. Paul pointed at a corner of the awning, ordering, ”Bring that trash can over here.”

One of the boys finally budged, carrying the metal can over to Paul’s work on the floor. As Paul expected the can was left out in the rain from the previous day and so had a good two inches of sludgy water at the bottom. He knew enough about Secondo’s work that destruction was a part of it. Destruction by the elements: fire, water, earth, air. The thing enjoyed rocks so earth was out of the question. Fire…he had no idea how to destroy it with fire. Fire was Secondo’s primary way to destroy ritual things: fold it up in a piece of paper, burn it on the family grill. No grill here. And waiting for air to gently blow something away was not fast enough. But water…

Paul dumped the water across the encircled chalk name, scraping his foot to scrub out the words with force.

There was nothing but silence once again. That buzzing, that cold form beside him was gone.

“Well done,” said Secondo gently.

There were a few silent minutes where they waited for the rocks to return, but the air was still again. Tiff and Dana finally peeled themselves from each other, tears drying on their faces. The boys began to wake up from their terrified stupor to secretly glare at Paul, as if he hadn’t just saved them from something beyond all of their understanding.

“But…my car…” Dave started up his whining again now that he felt safe from unexplainable paranormal forces.

“Act of God,” Secondo replied. “And you all had better sober up before I drop you off at your houses. Come now.” He didn’t wait for them to take a hint. He turned and walked back to the parking lot knowing full well all of them would follow along. And they did, cautiously wandering across the grass to arrive at the hearse.

Secondo swung open the back door, and the pristine white curtains adorning the window drifted softly into place. “Truck can't fit all of you,” stated Secondo. “Now get in.” Nobody moved. Secondo blinked. “It's empty. Get in. I'm taking you all home.”

The kids exchanged nervous looks then clambered into the back, huddling amongst themselves like refugees. Secondo put a hand across his son’s shoulder. “No. You're in the front. With me.”

“Right,” muttered Paul. And he’d be the one to get out of the car and open the hatch for each and every one of his friends, half-staring into their face as they would exit. Paul slid into the passenger seat and crank-rolled the window down. They would be driving the ancient hearse at an agonizing twenty-five miles per hour, stopping for too long at every stop sign.

The driver door opened and Secondo steeled himself to get into the car. Paul didn’t want to watch his father lower himself gingerly into the driver’s seat and prop his crutch beside him. Secondo landed on his seat and squeezed his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes closed, breath coming out in a rattling exhalation. He recomposed himself for a minute, then slammed the door. The engine coughed to life. The bench seat of the converted Buick felt massive, his father nearly a football field away on the other side of the car quietly enduring pain just so he could pick up Paul and his delinquent friends after a night of conjuring demons from stolen materials. Secondo never said a word, but Paul felt its weight. The shame was ready to drown him.

Secondo shifted to look in his side mirror. “Paul, we clear?” Was all he said. The hearse had a massive blind spot, and the rod in his back kept his neck from turning as well as it used to. Despite Paul’s lying, his transgressions and the risks he took tonight Secondo depended on him. Trusted him. Whatever paternal discussion on moral failings would be had later, tabled because his father needed him for something larger right now. Paul stuck his head out his window, finding his voice again.

“Yeah, you can go.”

Like it? Reblog it thank youuu

[juletheghoul]

Let Me Follow (Part 6)

AN: Phew! So this was fucking torture. I don't even know how to explain how hard it's been for me lately. Interaction on this site has been abysmal-and while I know we do this for fun, it sort of feels like I'm talking to myself sometimes. It's so hard to not take other people's success personally but I am trying! I have such a clear vision of where this story will go, and I have so much planned that I don't want to give up. I figured the best way to build up my self-esteem, build up my confidence was to go back to how I did it in the beginning, just write, and post. I've done my best to edit this myself, but it hasn't been beta'd. Hopefully, it pays off, enjoy! xo (enjoy the softness before the storm😅)

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) angst, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age), Yearning, post-apocalyptic world, piv sex (wrap it up!), the softest version of this Joel that I've written to date, Grief, panic attack / ptsd / nightmare

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist

It felt wrong to smile, almost silly. How could anyone smile with how things were in the world? With Johnny gone, with the pounding pain in the back of your head, with the effort and the hunger shredding a hole through your insides—you’d wipe it off your face. Had managed to keep it off for a long time, but then an animal had jumped onto the road and Joel’s arm had shot out in a protective gesture and it had creeped back in. 

“Looks like the rest of the way is on foot.” What had started out as a grinding noise, had quickly turned into dark plumes of smoke from the engine, filling the car with an acrid smell. “Shouldn’t be too far now, few hours.” His scowl was in place, but you saw it differently now–saw it for what it was. A mask, a representation of what this world did to you.

“We can manage that.” Ellie was grabbing her pack, helping Luke with the door before making her way towards the direction Joel pointed you all in. 

“Yes, we can definitely manage that.” You smiled at her, wincing slightly at the way your head pounded. 

“You okay, Sunny?” His hand lands gently on the side of your neck, turning your face towards his. “You can walk, right?” His hand sweeps up, prodding gently at the throbbing goose egg on the back of your head.

“Yeah, I’m okay, my head hurts like a bitch though. Need water soon.” His scowl seems so different now, it’s worry you see there now, instead of anger. He nods once, lingering for a moment before turning and leading the way. Luke doesn’t comment on the exchange, just gives you a small smile and follows Joel, but Ellie; she gives you a toothy grin and a thumbs up. 

Hours pass, thick trees give way to open space. A vast, beautiful landscape stretching out before all of you, seemingly untouched. Everyone is quiet, but alert as you all move closer to your destination. 

“How much longer do you think we have left, Joel?” Ellie is lagging a little bit, the hunger and thirst evident in her voice. 

“Shouldn’t be too much longer.” He turns to look at her, slowing down to let her catch up but he tenses at the sounds of horses just over the ridge in front of you. His gun flies up, but there are too many. Instantly you’re all surrounded by armed people on horseback, twenty people at least. “Get behind me.” He raises his hands in supplication, letting the gun fall onto his shoulder. “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble, we’re just passin’ through.” 

“Drop the gun.” The person in front of Joel has a rifle pointed at him, a lot of them have guns pointed at the four of you. They have coverings on the lower halves of their faces, the one closest to Joel is yelling, and Joel drops his gun. “You-” He gestures to you, Luke and Ellie. “Take five steps back, separately.” 

“How about we just talk this through-” Joel starts to speak before anyone moves. 

“How ‘bout you shut the fuck up.” The man cuts him off, and gestures to the rest of you. 

“It’s okay, do what he says, we’ll be okay.” You nod at Ellie, moving away from Joel, your own hands up. 

“You been near infected?” The man asks no one in particular. 

“There’s no infected out here.” Joel responds.

“The hell there ain’t!” The man answers before whistling, from somewhere behind them another man emerges with a dog. “Last chance for a bullet, if you’ve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.” The dog barks, and your heart sinks. Ellie looks to you, big eyes pleading and you take a tentative step towards her, stopping when another of the riders points his gun at you. The dog makes his way over to Joel, sniffing at his feet for a moment before rising up, friendly. 

“Like I said,” Joel calls out. “We’ll just move on.” 

“Now the rest of you.” The man calls out, and the dog sniffs Luke, and then you, moving on lastly to Ellie. Your stomach drops and your hand inches towards the knife in your pocket but after a tense breath, the dog licks Ellie’s hands. You can’t help but take a deep breath in relief. 

“You just bought yourself more seconds.” The man doesn’t lower his gun. “What are you doin’ out here?”

“We’re just lookin’ for my brother, that’s all, nothin’ more.” A woman rides forward at his words, her dark eyes focused intently on Joel’s face. 

“What’s your name?” She asks him. 

“Joel.” He answers, and it’s the magic word. She gestures for them to lower their guns. “Joel Miller, right?” She lowers the covering. 

“Yeah, do I know you?” His voice is thick with confusion. 

“I know Tommy, come on, we’ll lead you to him. Give them a few horses.” She calls out the command to no one in particular, but they rush to obey her nonetheless. 

-

You ride with them, nervously clutching Joel where you sit behind him on the horse they gave him. 

“You’re okay Sunny, just hold on. Don’t squeeze your thighs.” He speaks low and you take a deep breath.

“Sorry, I’m afraid of falling off.” You tighten your grip on him, squeezing tightly around his middle. 

“I won’t let you.” He presses his hand to yours, reassuring you. 

It isn’t long before you arrive at a high wall, with people walking along the top of it. A giant gate is closed to all, until Maria–the woman on the horse gives a signal, and the giant gate opens up for your party. The scene that greets you just inside the gates shocks you into silence. It’s a town, a lively, inhabited, working town. People mill about a central high street, kids play and watch your party move through the street with curiosity instead of fear. 

It’s a lot to take in, working lights and shops seemingly open and in good condition, scaffolding and people repairing things–working together. 

“Tommy!” Joel yells out, startling you and you see one of the men on the scaffolding turn and look, rapidly making his way down while Joel dismounts the horse you’re sharing and runs towards him. It makes you smile to see and hear Joel so happy, to see him find his own brother and it makes you think of Johnny. 

I wish you could have seen this place, Johnny.

–

The food tastes too good to keep any semblance of decorum, instead you shove it into your mouth faster than you can chew it, breathing deeply through your nose in order to fill your belly. Maria and Tommy sit across from the three of you in what was essentially a town cafeteria–Luke had been taken straight to the town doctor and you’d all been assured he’d be fed. 

Joel speaks, Ellie argues, and you keep quiet. Tommy and Maria are an item, and if you had to hazard a guess, Tommy has been less than kind in his description of his older brother. There’s something in the air between them, Maria and Tommy, the two of them versus Joel. A look of judgement in her gaze and it raises your hackles. 

“The house across the street from us is empty, the one next to it too if you wanted your own place–” She looks at you but Joel cuts her off. 

“We stay together. The three of us.” He reaches over, taking your hand in his. Tommy isn’t the only one who’s found someone and it makes your heart soar to have him claim you openly like this. 

“That works.” She smiles politely, Tommy too. “How ‘bout a tour?” Joel nods, and you make your way out, with a full belly and a full heart.

-

The town is well and truly a marvel, the culmination of hard work, strategic location and the well oiled machine that is their patrol. They’ve managed to rebuild a functioning, safe town; full of most of the comforts the world had had before, only on a much smaller scale. You keep quiet as she guides the three of you through their little corner of normalcy, unable to stop yourself from noting where all of the supplies are kept, where the food stores are, how many horses are in the stable. 

There’s a tense energy flowing between Joel and Tommy, something unspoken in the air, an anger, a resentment and you can’t exactly blame Joel for his share of it. His brother has been here, safe and happy, with a purpose–content to leave his brother in the dark in order to protect what they have here. You can almost understand why, there’s something else though, something in the way Maria watches Joel that plants a seed of suspicion in your brain. Your suspicion deepens and if you had to hazard a guess, he’s told her some unsavoury things about the man you’d come to–what, love? The thought is sobering, you push it away. 

Maria suggests showing you where you’ll be staying, mentions getting cleaned up while she moves away from them, gesturing for the two of you to follow, and with a nod from Joel, you do.

-

The house was furnished from before, everything old and a bit dusty, but otherwise in good condition. Relatively clean, working lights, a hot shower. Heaven. You stay in there a little longer than necessary, too content in the warmth of the water to make it as quick as you’d planned. Your little trailer–although having served as an oasis by today’s standards–didn’t hold a fucking candle to this. 

You smile to yourself, picturing Joel melting in the warmth, his handsome face tipped back in unadulterated joy. It almost made you regret not waiting for him, almost. That first time Johnny had rigged up the trailer to catch rainwater and figured out a way to somehow connect the whole thing to a powersource and heat it, that same feeling coursed through you now as the steam filled the ensuite, only now it was painted with a bittersweet brush. You’d gotten good at pushing away thoughts of Johnny and what could have possibly–probably–happened to him, and you did it again now. You forced his breezy smile, his dumb jokes, the comforting piece of home that he’d been out of your mind and focused on getting clean. 

Maria had left some clothing for the three of you in the house, doing a remarkably accurate job at guessing what would fit and once dressed, Ellie had run out of the house, itching to explore. It served you well enough. It gave you time to rest and to regroup. It gave you a chance to think about exactly what it was you wanted to do now that something like this was an option. 

—

The house looks normal, really normal. Not just the normal he’s had to adjust the definition of the word to over the last twenty years, either. It’s just a house. It’s just a suburb, just a neighbourhood relatively untouched, by the ravages of the last two decades. A two-story home with good bones, a home he imagined could be stable for him, for Sarah. 

The thought of her forces the air out of his chest, punches it out of him with the force of a gunshot. He hadn’t let himself think about her in so long that it shakes him, freezes him where he stands on the porch like some sort of statue. It had been twenty years since he’d lost her, and yet he can still smell her hair in his nose, can still feel the weight of her in his arms, can still hear the sound of her voice and it breaks his heart all over again. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and lets the anger, and the hurt, the rage of his monumental loss pass engulf him.

His heart pounds in his chest, the blood it beats booming like a drum in his ears. His vision blurs as he stands there, terrified and bewildered, swaying as though caught in a massive wave and struggling to breathe. His hand shoots out and he braces himself against the wall of the house. He focuses on the brick under his hand, the grit of it digging into his palm. 

Breathe Joel, breathe. 

His lungs fill with air. 

In. Out. Repeat.

His vision eventually clears as he catches his breath, the pounding in his ears lessens and he finally feels like he can move his legs and after a few more steadying breaths, he leaves whatever the episode was, and the memory of his daughter on the porch. 

—

He groans as he makes his way up the stairs and you can’t help but smile, anticipation and excitement and a whole bunch of feelings you can’t, or maybe won’t name swirling in your gut as you wait for him to find you. The scowl is there when he finally opens the right door, his eyes burning into yours but there’s something else there too. 

“Everything okay?” You sit up at the sight of him, pale and no doubt clammy by the looks of him, “Did something happen?” The fear doesn’t creep, it slams into you. 

“No no, everythin’s okay. Just tired.” His eyes soften, but only a little. “You look…cozy.” He raises an eyebrow at finding you in bed, quite obviously cleaned up and relaxing. “Shower working?” 

“Yes, I am very comfortable. It’s a real bed, Joel—real blankets and a real house… lights and hot water.” You can’t help but gush, and smile and kneel up to speak to him, “go, go shower and get clean. Maria brought us some clothes, here—“ you all but crawl out of the bed and rush over to the dresser, grab him a towel and soft sleep things, hurrying to shove them into his hands. 

“Hold your horses, girl—where’s Ellie?” He quirks his head, listening for her.

“She’s fine, in the bedroom down the hall, she was passed out when I checked in on her about an hour ago. Now go! Get clean, mister.”

“Okay okay, Sunny, I’m goin’.” Both his tone and his smile are soft, “be right back.” He grumbles halfheartedly, but does what you ask all the same. 

He takes just as long as you thought he might, the hot water and steam casting its spell on him, just as it had on you. 

“Jesus Christ,” He looks so much softer than you’ve ever seen him, standing at the door in a loose shirt and some boxer shorts, holding his dirty pile of rags, “that was the best shower I’ve taken in years.” He sets down the pile before making his way over to the bed. 

“Life Changing, truly.” You smile up at him, giddy at the thought of having him here, safe and protected, in a real bed. “I had almost forgotten what it was like.” You move in a little closer as you speak, itching to snuggle up to him, but keeping your distance all the same. Despite his kiss, his open declaration in the dining hall, it wasn’t easy to forget being pushed away.

“The little setup you had was pretty good.” He must see the doubt, must see the way your fingers twitch with want and he makes the first move, pulling the blanket up and opening his arms. You crawl into his embrace with a toothy grin.

“Nowhere near as good as this.” You bury your face into the skin of his neck and inhale, eyes rolling into the back of your head when his clean scent hits you, “God, I love soap.” You all but moan it into his neck and he laughs, a genuine, deep rumble that fills your heart with something.

“Yeah I bet you do, I’m sorry about the state of me before. You smell pretty great yourself.” He wraps himself closer too, skimming his nose along any inch of skin he can reach and it’s almost as if the world outside doesn’t exist. This is the only thing that matters. Him, you, this bed—Ellie, safe in her room. 

“I scrubbed a lot, l probably took off a few layers of skin.” You run your fingers through his hair, basking in the feeling of his touch, basking in his voice and the soft caress of his breath against your skin. Ignoring the tiny little voice that warns he might change his mind later.

Stop that, just enjoy a good fucking thing here.

You scold yourself, bringing your focus back to him.

“Me too, reckon I needed it, bad.” His hands move from your back, up to your skull and you wince when he touches the goose egg. “Still hurts? I should go find Tommy, see if he’s got any painkillers for you.” He almost goes to move away and while your heart sings at his readiness to leave the comfort of this to take away your pain, your fingers dig into his back and hold.  

“Don’t you dare.” He laughs, and gets back into place.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll do it in the morning.” He takes another look at where you’d been hurt before tucking you close, and pulling the blanket up over you both. “It feels so strange to lay here, almost normal.” 

“I know, it’s almost too weird.” Your leg lifts of its own accord and hooks over his middle, “I have my knife on the nightstand beside me, but I almost feel like I should have it under my pillow.”

“I know what you mean, been livin’ in fear a long time. That doesn’t just go away after a hot shower and a good meal.” His hand comes down and holds onto your thigh, as though you’d both done this a million times, you smile into his neck. 

“Can we stay here?” The question has been there all day, burning a hole in the back of your brain and into the tip of your tongue, “Do you want to stay here?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t even know what I’d do with myself here.” You bite your lip at his admission, “If you wanted to, I would. I’d go wherever you go.” His tone is soft again, his eyes averted and you can see it’s hard for him to admit that out loud. “I know I’m hard to be around sometimes, but I’m tryin’.” His hand sweeps up your thigh as he speaks, giving himself something to focus on, ground himself with.

“I know, Joely. I can see it.” You lean in and kiss his cheek, pressing yourself closer to him, pushing past the lump in your throat to speak. “Once Ellie does what she needs to do, we can all live here.”

“We’ll have to see how that goes, her and the fireflies.” He says nothing more, and you leave it there.

A yawn slips out and before you’ve even finished, he’s reaching over and turning off the light on his side. His arms, the soft sweep of his hands on your skin, his voice in your ear and his lips at your temple all work their magic and lull you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

His whole body twitches, and that’s what wakes you up, bleary eyed and half terrified. You barely have time to rub at your eye with the heel of your hand before he’s moving again, his head jerking side to side and you call to him, but he doesn’t hear you.

“Joel, wake up,” you put your hand on his shoulder, softly, “Joel!” 

He lurches forward violently, his arms flailing in the darkness and you know he’s still in the nightmare, the terror bleeding through into reality for a moment before he realizes where he is. 

“It was just a bad dream,” you reassure him, keeping your voice soft and calm, “you’re okay, come.” You open your arms to him and even though he’s awake, he still takes a few deep breaths before moving. Whatever he’d dreamt, it had been bad. He breathes hard as he settles beside you, the sheen of terror shining on the parts of his face illuminated by the moon filtering into the room. “Do you want to talk about it?” You run your fingers through his hair, doing your best to soothe him. 

“I–” He frowns, opening his mouth, then closing it, and repeating the action a couple of times before answering again, “It’s just, everythin’.” He lets go of a big breath, and melts into the bed, melts into you. “I just, I dreamt somethin’ bad happened–I think. I don’t even know anymore.” his breath fans across your skin as he speaks, raising goosebumps in its wake.

“I get it,” You press your lips to his neck, “Happens to me too, sometimes.” 

The novelty of this moment isn’t lost on you, the stark contrast between when you first met and now would have been unbelievable to you back then.  

“First night in a real bed, and this is what happens.” He scoffs in the dark. The words are meant to be light, but he can’t hide the annoyance threaded in the tone.  

“Well, we could take advantage,” your thumb brushes against the plump of his lower lip, but you don’t push it further, “what do you think?” He almost doesn’t let you finish your sentence, instead his mouth presses against yours, forestalling any further conversation, and filling your stomach with butterflies. 

It’s almost embarrassing how fast your body responds to him, the trail his hands leave across your skin like an electric current. His palm skates up under the loose shirt and finds the weight of your breast, his thumb brushing over the stiff peak in sync with the groan he feeds directly into your mouth. You scramble to get closer, feeling the frantic energy in his hands and matching it.

It feels so fast, feels like just a moment before you’d been sleeping and not clamouring to eat each other alive. But it also feels so slow, like no matter how hard you both breathe one another in, no matter how quickly you rip off each other's layers, you cannot get close enough, fast enough.

It’s then that the realization hits you. There, on the edge of this bed that isn’t yours, but could be. It’s there when the layers are finally fucking gone, when your mouths are fused together but barely moving, when you’re finally fully seated and your aching pussy is stretched around the thickness of him. 

I love you.

His forehead rests against yours while you sit on him, snug, and tight, and wet. The two of you sharing each other's breath, the nightmare forgotten, or most likely repressed. You try to shoo the thought away and focus on the way he feels, on the way he fills you so perfectly. You focus on the hands that hold onto your ass, on the broken moans he breathes onto your skin.

God, I love you.

It pops up again, unbidden and you frown to yourself, trying again to focus on him. 

“What’s wrong baby?” His eyes are on you now, his frown a mixture of pleasure and worry. “Am I hurtin’ you?” He holds your chin so tenderly, it makes your heart ache.

“No, Joely, it feels so good.” You kiss him, relishing in the fact that you can, but it isn’t enough because he pulls away for a moment.

“You sure?” He cradles your face in his big hands and it’s a double edged sword. It’s everything you never thought you’d have, it’s comfort and belonging, but it’s also a void. A black hole you could fall into, and never crawl out of. It’s a weakness, a stupid, wreckless risk that this world no longer seems to have any space for. You can see it, the black pit of despair in his eyes, the trust and gamble it is to love another person and it shifts like the colours of an oil slick stain on concrete when it rains. From terrifying, to beautiful. 

“I’m okay, I promise.” You press a soft kiss to his mouth again, and lie to both him, and yourself.

---

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[sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan]

In honor of Fresh Love dropping, here is a fic of you getting your back blown out by Chris in his brand.

A/N: If this concept has already been done, I apologize! If anyone knows the original creator, please tag them!

Warnings: use of Y/N, smut, p in v, unprotected (big no), doggy style, mature language, rough Chris, second person point of view, and possibly more

I do NOT give permission for my work(s) to be copied, translated, or re-uploaded to ANY site!

Want more fics like this? Visit my masterlist!

Enjoy! 💜💙🧡☆ :) $

You were laying on Chris's bed, wearing his favorite Fresh Love hoodie, and nothing else but a pair of underwear. You decided to put it on because of the edits you had seen of Nick reading a comment about someone getting their back blown out while wearing Fresh Love.

Chris was currently in the kitchen with his triplet brothers filming a "Blind, Deaf, and Mute" video for their YouTube channel. You heard Nick saying something about their video description, meaning that they were almost finished filming.

This meant that Chris would be in his room soon. Which meant he would see you wearing his hoodie soon. Which meant that you could potentially get your back blown out in Fresh Love. To say that you were excited, would be an extreme understatement.

You look up from your phone when you hear the door open and shut. Chris walked in, sighing heavily as he kicked off his shoes, and plopped into bed beside you. He pulled out his phone, opened Instagram, and went to his brand account.

This sparked your interest, seeing as you were currently wearing the brand. "Whatcha doing, babe?" You questioned, making eye contact with Chris as his fingers froze over his screen, his head turning towards yours. "I'm about to announce a new Fresh Love drop."

"Really?" You asked excitedly. Chris nodded while chuckling. "Yes baby, really. Do you wanna see some of the new items?" You sat up quickly, nodding your head yes. "Please," you said. At this, Chris just chuckled again, opening his camera roll, and selecting a photo album. "Here," he said, handing you his phone.

You happily started scrolling through the photos, stopping on each hoodie that came into your view. Your mind went back to the edit you saw, a smile making its way to your lips. "You like them?" Chris asked hopefully. "I love them, Chris," you said, handing him back his phone with a smile.

He took his phone, finishing his Instagram post, then going to his brand's website to launch the products. You watched as his fingers flew over the screen, the veins in his hands causing your underwear to become damp with arousal.

You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to relieve some of the need that coursed through you. Chris shut off his phone, turning his attention back to you. He raised his eyebrow at your clenched thighs, a smirk making its way to his lips.

"What's wrong, love?" Chris asked, his voice teasing. "N-nothing," you squeaked out, your cheeks becoming flushed with embarrassment. "You sure?"

"Chris," you said as your hands came up to your face to hide your blushing. Chris scooched closer to you, gently prying your hands away from your face while saying, "Don't hide from me, baby, I wanna see your pretty face."

"I saw this video on TikTok of Nick reading a comment while you guys were streaming. It kinda made me wanna do it too," you rambled, avoiding eye contact with the brunette boy who was in close proximity to you.

"What did the comment say, Y/N?" Chris questioned, the teasing tone never leaving his voice. "It said, 'I just got my back blown out in Fresh Love,'" Chris's eyes widened, his face becoming flushed at your admission. "You want me to blow your back out on Fresh Love too?" Chris asked for clarification.

"Please," you breathed out, the deep rooted need being too much to bear. Chris simply nodded his head, removing the comforter from your lap. Both of his eyebrows shot up at your decision to not wear any pants.

"You really wanted this, huh?" He taunted. The heat that was not only on your face, but in between your legs, intensified. Chris hooked his fingers in the waistband of your underwear, just to let go of it with a snap against your skin. You gasped in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"You like that, baby?" Chris tantalized. You could only nod your head in response. For real this time, he removed your underwear, his eyes never leaving your lower half. His fingers ran through your folds gently, gathering your wetness to bring to his mouth.

He moaned at the tangy but sweet taste, his fingers leaving his mouth with a 'pop'. "Fuck, darling you taste so good," Chris praised. He stood up off his bed, his hands moving to the neckline of his shirt to remove it. Your eyes followed his moments, stopping to stare at his toned chest and stomach.

"Do you like what you see?" Chris asked, the smirk on his lips growing wider. You shamelessly nodded your head, eyes reluctantly moving up to meet his. Chris's smile only increased as his gaze met yours. He sat back down on the bed, removing his socks and throwing them into a pile with his shirt.

Standing right back up, his hands found their way to his loose fitting jeans, unbuttoning them as well as unzipping the zipper. When he pulled down his jeans, his grey boxers became visible. There was a wet spot on the front of them, where the tip of his cock had leaked pre-cum.

Chris sat back down on the bed, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. His hands found their way to either side of your face, holding you softly. A deep contrast to the way his lips were moving against yours. He gently bit your lip, a silent question as to whether or not your tongues could dance against each other.

You opened your mouth, happily accepting him. His tongue swirled against yours, making you moan. You felt yourself lose control against him, aimlessly clenching around nothing while bucking your hips onto the air. This caused Chris to remove his mouth from yours, pulling away with a smirk.

"Needy, are we?" He asked with a cocky smirk still present on his face. "Please Chris, I need you," you begged as your arousal dripped down your thighs. He moved between your legs, his fingers brushing over your soaked area. You moaned with frustration, needing to feel him inside you already.

Chris quickly thrusted two fingers inside of your hole, causing you to let out a breathy gasp which turned into a moan. "Just gotta stretch you out," Chris said, his pace quickening. "You're so wet f'me."

Your mind was in a haze. You couldn't even respond to him verbally. The only way you responded was by clenching your walls around his fingers. Chris let out a small chuckle at this. Gently pulling his fingers out of your sopping hole. You let out a whine at the loss of contact. Your orgasm was quickly approaching and he took it away within an instant.

"Chris please, I-" you started, but were cut off by him abruptly flipping you onto your stomach, his hands finding their way to your hips. He pulled them up, causing your ass to hang in the air. You turned your head to the side to say, "Chris I need you inside me I can't take it."

"Aw my girl is so needy, huh?" His voice was laced with faux sympathy. "Please Chris, I need you. No more teasing," you begged. With your plea, Chris removed his boxers, aligning his hard dick with your entrance.

You felt his tip enter your hole then thrust all of himself into you completely. The way he filled you up made you moan out in pleasure. One of his hands made their way to your mouth, covering the noises that you made.

You moaned against his hand that was still covering your mouth. You felt your orgasm quickly approaching, but you knew you had to hold it back. Chris always wanted you to cum at the same time as him.

His other hand pulled your hair, causing your head to tilt back and your eyes to meet his. He looked down at your fucked out expression, seemingly proud of himself for causing you the immense pleasure which you were receiving.

You clenched around him rhythmically, signaling to him that you were close to your high. "Hold it f'me baby. Can you do that?" Chris asked. He leaned down, removing his hand from your mouth and connected his lips to yours, silencing your muffled moans.

He continued to kiss you as your lungs began to burn. You needed air, but you didn't mind. If this was how you died, Chris's dick inside you with his hands all over you, that was perfectly fine.

Finally, Chris's lips left yours, as his hand left your hair to grip your hips tightly. Chris leaned down and whispered in your ear huskily, "Come with me, come all over this cock."

With his permission, you came, hard. It was all over his cock, just like he told you to. As you came, so did he. His load was shot into you, covering your walls completely.

Chris slowly pulled out of you as you whined due to the loss of contact. "I know, honey. I know, I'm sorry," Chris cooed, softly flipping you back over to lay face up.

"You okay? I wasn't too rough, was I?" Chris asked, concern laced in his voice. You finally caught your breath, smiling at him sweetly. You gently placed your hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing his skin lightly. "I'm more than okay, Chris. Thank you. That was amazing."

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" Chris asked, standing up and disappearing into his bathroom. When he walked back out, he was holding a rag. He sat down in between your legs, gently prying them apart.

As the rag made contact with your core, you couldn't help but hiss at the sensation. Chris quickly pulled the rag away, the concerned look making its way back into his face. "I'm sorry, are you okay?"

You nodded your head, giving him a reassuring smile. "Yes Chris, I'm okay. I promise." Chris finished cleaning you up, taking the rag back into the bathroom. He went to the dresser, pulling out a pair of clean for you to wear.

He helped you put on the underwear and got dressed himself. "Would you like something to drink, Y/N?" Chris offered. "Could I have a bottle of water please?" "Of course."

When Chris left his room to get you water, you got on your phone. Noticing two unread message notifications, you clicked on them. One was from Matt and one was from Nick.

[dovelydraws]

Man, I keep telling myself that I need to upload my backlog of art onto my blog but I just have like... no motivation to do so lol?

I guess the drop in engagement on this site really has demotivated me quite a bit. Not in a "I need validation to keep wanting to create" way, I'm still drawing nearly every day, just without posting it anywhere. It's just like, when I don't receive very many comments or asks and really feel like there's a community here that wants to engage with me, I feel like there's not really a point to it?

I've sorta mostly kept my sketches and doodles to myself over the last year or so and have only been uploading the bigger pieces I put a lot of effort into, but nowadays I struggle to even find a reason to upload things I spend hours or even days on. It feels like basically all the "community engagement" I get comes from my little friend groups in personal discord servers, and when I try to share things I'm really excited and proud of with the general public here, I just get the impression that no one actually cares. So, why bother showing anyone but my friends?

I know people like my art, because I do still get a pretty decent amount of likes on my posts and I do appreciate that, but, without people telling me what they think or asking me questions, it still feels like crickets. You think my work is nice to look at for 5 seconds, but do you actually like it? Are you curious about it? Do you enjoy my characters and the stories I try to tell with them? You think my work is pretty, but do you care about the process or the person who made it? Or am I just a thing on your screen meant to be consumed?

Idk, I guess the internet has just become a very lonely place over the last 10 or so years. I know this lack-of-engagement issue will only get worse the more I stop sharing my work, so if I really want to try to stop it, I have to keep going and be consistent to find the audience I'm looking for. It's just been difficult getting myself past that mental barrier. I'm sure other creators reading this probably understand where I'm coming from, haha.

[rowan-mellark]

Everlark After series ✿ ִֶָ ꒰ .⚘.꒱ 🏹

Chapter three - Real?

18+ MDNI!! Unestablished relationship, panic attacks, weapons.

please leave suggestions/ criticism in comments !

Pairing : Katniss Everdeen x Peeta Mellark

Word count : 1k

Summary : Peeta and Katniss go into town to deliver food! (with a little angst)

Authors note : The last chapter did sosososososoo well and I am so grateful for everyone who interacted!!

Chapter two ♡

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜

After a few hours of helping with reconstruction, I went hunting. I know Peeta might be worried If I go without letting him know, but I go anyway, needing some alone time.

I went to the spot on the fence that I used to go through to hunt before the games, which was now significantly bigger. I slip through, walking to the tree where I hide my bow, taking it out along with a quiver of arrows. I sigh, the familiar feeling of the wood on my fingertips bringing back a feeling of normality. It was almost like I was back hunting with Gale before the games. After a few hours of trying to catch game, I decided to go home, where Peeta was already waiting for me.

"You didn't tell me when you left," He says softly.

"Sorry, I Just needed some time to myself," I replied, walking up the steps to him.

"I got some food though, we can bring some to the people in town for lunch."

He nods, and we start to walk. As Peeta and I drop off the meals to our friends, We talk about how we're happy that people are returning to twelve. I didn't think anyone would want to come back with how things were a few months ago, but after a few weeks, most of the people from twelve that were staying in thirteen had come back to help rebuild.

We stop by the building sites to bring lunch to the workers. Peeta, being Peeta, offers his help with rebuilding the medical center and making it function like an actual hospital. I look over at him, taking a mental note of how much he's changed, but at the same time, he hasn't: He still wants to help people.

We continue to make stops at certain families. Families with newborns, sick, elderly, single mothers, etc. Then we head down the path where the bakery used to be. I look around the rubble, we still haven't rebuilt this part of town. There are still glimpses of remnants of the bakery, small things like the broken sign and broken Picture frames. It's only after a few seconds of Peeta's footsteps becoming quiet that I turn to see why he's stopped walking.

"Peeta, we can go home if you want?" I openly suggest, knowing he probably wouldn't want to stay on this street for too long.

He doesn't respond.

It's like he can't hear me, he continues to stare at the bakery, Seemingly getting further away From where we are. I can see his breath start to quicken, the rise and fall of his chest becoming more erratic.

"Peeta," I say again, louder this time.

His arms are tense by his sides, his fingers digging into his palm. The only response 1 get is silence and I finally decide to move in front of him, blocking his vision. I don't know what kind of flashbacks or trauma response he's having, but all I can think to do is stand in front of him.

His breathing gets worse.

He can't see me, hear me, nothing, he isn't here.

I quickly reach out and carefully ease a few bags out of his hands, dropping them onto the floor. After making sure everything is out of his hands I gently take them in mind, slowly running my thumbs across his knuckles.

"Peeta, whatever you're remembering, it isn't real. I'm here, you're safe, you're in twelve. I've got you." I Say, My wards coming out rushed, trying to get them into his head before whatever brainwashed images the capitol fed him does. His eyes finally look up into mine. He's finally seeing me again. His grip on my hands tightens to the point where it hurts but I don't care, I need him to come back fully.

He gives me a pained look and I almost break down at that moment. I slowly and carefully reach behind his neck, pulling him into my arms. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around me as if he was scared to hurt me. I can tell that some of the hijacking is coming into effect, but Im not scared.

“Katniss…” he chokes out.

“the bakery was destroyed, real or not real?" He manages to whisper into my shoulder.

“Real” I responded, stroking his hair, trying to keep my tone calm, not wanting to scare him more than he already was.

I don't know how long we've been standing there but quite frankly I don't care either. It could've been a few minutes, hours even and I still wouldn't care. Normally, I would count the time in these situations but it's not the time. Peeta is trembling violently in my arms and I'll be damned if I pay attention to anything other than him right now.

After a few minutes, I felt his heart rate go down, his breathing returns to normal, his grip on me still tight if not tighter than before. But he's better.

"Are you okay?" I ask him finally, pulling away only enough to look at him before his grip

tightened again. Not yet.

“Come on, let's go home," I say, cupping his cheeks as gently as I possibly could so I wouldn't scare him.

He looks at me, almost trying to piece together what I've said. When he finally does, he nods slowly, his grip loosening.

“yeah... yeah let's go home." he eventually responded, nodding as if trying to convince himself he was okay.

Once I grabbed all the bags I quickly took his hand in mine, not letting go of him the entire way home.

1 1 : 5 5 am

[typingdyslexiaisathing]

A Crime In the Devildom (Obey Me!) fic part 2

Part 1 may be found here. Next Part 3 here.

Content: Lucifer and the brothers bring their very upset pact human back home. Established relationships, mention of violence, injury, blood, mention of death.

The entrance to the Demon Lord's Castle closed as Lucifer shifted his hold on Marzena. His brothers hovering around him to be as close to their beloved pact human as physically possible. Which Lucifer was unable to get angry over after the fiasco this day had been. So he walked slowly forward as his brothers rambled amongst each other. Slow enough for Asmodeus to take out a compact brush and begin to brush Marzena's hair for her. His words soft and sad as he made sure to start at the ends and work his way up. "Just look at your hair. All snarled and with split ends besides. You really should let me give you a trim. If not a full spa treatment. That will be a must for tomorrow. No arguing."

Mammon gave a huff to cross his arms and fume and cuss over the fact this all happened. His anger let loose to the open air as Beelzebub moved to stand at Lucifer's other side. His big hand gently touching at Marzena's foot where she lost her shoe from the earlier fight. His words rumbled out like a bear. "I know we don't need to be on guard anymore. But I think we should set up a bodyguard system for a week or two." Lucifer nodded as Leviathan finally looked up from his phone. The Avatar of Envy scowling to make a comment. "The social media sites have blown up already. Marzena is being called a criminal by the family of the suspected serial killer. The rag tabloids already have articles spinning fake news about what happened. This means trouble."

Belphegor groaned as Satan shook his head. The blonde noting with serious tones as he mused, "That's one way to cause a debacle. Lord Diavolo ordered the family to not say anything until he made his official announcement on the case to the Devildom. This will mean more work for him as well as us. I vote we keep Marzena at home until Lord Diavolo gives the all clear." Lucifer sighed to see the sense in this as Mammon grinned at the idea. The silver haired demon openly stating, "A fine idea! I will gladly say that the Great Mammon will be happy to be Marzena's personal bodyguard to tutor her on what she misses in class and see to her every need! Since I'm just such a great guy!"

All the brothers roll their eyes for Belphegor to snort. His own words pointed as he shakes his head. "Or stay at home to gamble on your phone all day. Perhaps even give a special interview on Marzena's behalf to earn some Grimm. I vote you be tossed to Cerberus when we get home." Mammon squacks as Lucifer notices Marzena shiver in his arms. The human giving a few snickers to then have a sniffle escape. So Lucifer tells them all, "Stop. Marzena is already past her breaking point. We focus on the now and see to her needs. Satan. The command from Lord Diavolo was for us to be her jailers. As such, we will be staying home from RAD. Leviathan. I expect you to stay home as well. So you may keep tabs on the social media feeds and alert us as needed."

Leviathan blinked to then nod as they all reached the House of Lamentation. Where there was a very unexpected surprise. Someone had left a black envelope taped to the front gate. One that Mammon snatched up before anyone could warn him. The Avatar of Greed ripping the envelope open to then yelp and drop the envelope. Since a dozen or more nasty looking crimson spiders pour out of the envelope to swarm up his arm. Biting and hissing to leave purple toxin wherever they touch. So Mammon is snarling as Satan rips Mammon's uniform coat right off his body to start wiping the spiders off his arm with the coat. While Mammon smacks at the spiders for Asmodeus to give a shriek of pure horror. So Lucifer hands Marzena over to Beelzebub for the Avatar of Gluttony to take to the air with his cargo. More spiders spilling free of the envelope for Belphegor to shout out, "It's a summoning curse! Back up!"

The brothers jump back as Lucifer throws a spell of flames over the envelope. Which destroys the envelope in seconds, but not the spiders. Who seem to feed on the magic flames to multiply. So Lucifer gives a rumble of pure fury as Leviathan chooses to wash the spiders away from him with a blast of water. Which has Belphegor get the idea to curse the spiders around him with a quick ice spell. The spiders freezing to then turn to flakes of dust. So Leviathan copies Belphegor to use the same spell. Asmodeus doing the same for the spiders to soon be no more. So it is that the brothers gather around again to look very upset as Marzena presses herself as close to Beelzebub as possible. Her words hurting as she asks, "Mammon? Are you okay?" Mammon cusses as Lucifer takes Mammon's hand to look his arm over. Where Mammon's skin is burned like someone dunked his arm in acid. Blood dripping down his arm and elbow for Lucifer to sound highly agitated. "He will be fine after a good night of sleep and a lecture about being more careful. So let's head inside and do a full sweep of every nook and cranny of our home. Leviathan, call Solomon to help with the sweep of the house for anything we didn't have in the house already. I will take no risks that some fool didn't break in and leave more gifts for us."

[x0401x]

Hi! I've only watched the anime for Tsurune and I LOVED the first two seasons but after reading some of your Tsurune posts it got me curious. How different is the anime adaption from the source material? It sounds like an entirely different thing! I really liked the first season, but apparently it was a disaster? In what ways, if you don't mind me asking? Should I read the novels instead? I'm sorry for so many questions or if you've answered these already

Oh.

Oh, holy shit.

This is not the kind of ask I was expecting to get in the year of our lord 2024.

I’ll start by saying that you’re totally right. It sounds like an entirely different thing because the original work and the anime adaptation are, in fact, almost entirely different from each other. If you ever look for reviews of volume 1 on Japanese sites, the comment you’ll see the most from people who also watched the anime is “it’s so different from the novel that it might be best to just view the two as separate stories”. If I had to estimate how much of the novels was actually included into the animation, I would say 5% to 10%. I’m being pretty generous here.

You’re also right about the first season being a disaster. I remember that when I first watched the first episode of S1, by the moment that the series title came up, I immediately thought to myself, “This won’t sell well. 3k DVD copies, give or take”. And turns out I was wrong. It actually sold around 2.7k, which is even worse than what I had predicted. It did so infamously bad that many fans were worried about the second season before it came out, and some people were being rather foul-mouthed about it, which was a shock for me because you don’t usually see Japanese fans not following fandom etiquette. However, there was much more effort put into S2 than S1, thankfully. There’s also the whole thing with the arson attack, which pulled in people’s interest and support for the series. Overall, it did fairly well, I believe. I would never say that S2 does the novel any justice, but it was light years better than S1. That’s something everyone agrees to, even those who enjoyed S1.

Still, though. Even with S2 being far more successful than S1, that’s technically not so big of a deal, considering S1’s tragic underperformance. The series is known here in Japan mostly because of its association with the arson, but not many people are really into it. I would say that it has a niche audience consisting of 1) people who were already fans of KyoAni to begin with, 2) novel readers and 3) people who practice Japanese archery. As for the overseas audience… barely anyone has ever even heard of Tsurune, be it the anime or the novels. Many people who do know the anime have dropped it by S1, and the reason I see being pointed out the most is that it was “boring as hell”.

Other than this, I’ve noticed something in common when reading comments on S2 from Japanese Twitter. One thing people say a lot (and I do mean a lot) is that they didn’t like S1, but after watching S2, they were able to see that “KyoAni was, in fact, taking this franchise seriously”, so they gave it a second chance. This is meant as a compliment, but although it’s not backhanded per se, it’s kind of underhanded. I mean, who wants to be told, “Thank God you got your shit together this time around”? It’s good that S2 changed people’s opinions on the series, but the fact that it had to be changed speaks volumes about what people thought of S1.

Now, as to whether you should just read the novels, I would say yes. It’s literally the only way to know what Tsurune is truly about. But I have to warn you that, if you loved the anime, you might have to prepare yourself to see the things you loved about it either not being in the novel or taking a completely different turn in it. If you’re able to handle that, then by all means, go ahead and give the source material a try. It’s honestly one of the most unique novels I’ve ever read, and I’ve read just about every light novel out there. The depictions of Japanese archery and Zen go way deeper and you’ll learn much more about the characters, so I’m sure you’ll have a fun time!

[beefrobeefcal]

BB, you know who I am, but submitting as anon for my own privacy.

Prior to coming across your Catfish & Mouse, I thought I was incapable of having an orgasm. I'm a woman in my 30s and had assumed that kind of physical pleasure was off the table for me.

So if "fucked up fantasies" are what it takes to get me going, I will go to the gulag in their defense. The content you write litchurally hurts no one. There is no abuse, there is vocal and repeated consent, and there is fluffy sticky sweet love in abundance. What is so fucked up about that?

If my kink is not your kink, that's totally okay! But please don't do a drive-by call out on writers who produce content that you don't seek out.

All that free time could be used so much more productively...like getting off. It's how I use mine...

Love you, BB 💜🥩

To Nonnie, Love Beefro

I feel this deep in my bones. This sat in my drafts most of the day, but I think it's important that I have one final word on it. Tomorrow is a new day and we can move on from this as a community.

Nonnie, thank you for sharing your story. I am so glad that you found what made you 🍾🎆🧨🚀💣 and I'm proud of you!!!! You're a gem and I'm so fucking grateful that you're here and we can all call you Friendo. 💜💜💜

Before I throw my gloves off, I want to thank each and everyone of you for flying in and dropping the love in the THOT TANK, comments, posts and DM's. I am truly a blessed and lucky individual to be held in the care of this group and I'm genuinely moved by how kind each of you are. Thank you. This humble beef is grateful.

Mad Beefro is under the cut and you're not required to read if you're here for funzies and don't want to get deep. Take care and be gentle to yourselves; know that you're loved and appreciated here at the Bistro - you have a seat at the table.

Mmmbop-ba-do-ba-dop-ba-doo-bop regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

Now, it's one thing to spew hate at me - I wrote it, I can handle the nasties. Go ahead. Tell me I'm a fucking whack-job or I'm fucked up. I'll take it and make my peace. But knowing how deep that Blocked-Nonnie's ask cut the Friendos - my Friendos - makes me feel an intolerable rage.

I whole heartedly agree that instead of hate, the five knuckle shuffle is a far better use of time. I encourage anyone looking for a fight to take a breather and make yourself cum before dropping any kind of negativity here. Basically, go fuck yourself.

This is the one and final warning to anyone who wants to breach this blog with that hateful bullshit - fuck you and the horse you came into town on. You don't get to hurt my people. Any further bullshit like that will just be blocked on site and not brought to the surface to breathe. I'll let your hate suffocate and drown like it fucking deserves.

I hope you have the day you fucking deserve. 🥩

[smiggles]

This is gonna be abit of a mouthful, but I need to get it off my chest now that years have passed and we've (hopefully you have too) matured by now.

I once looked up to you, but that was a very long time ago. The trauma you caused me is irreversible. tbf I used to be a brat and if I could go back in time to backhand my younger self I would, I own up to that. But I was only a teenager, still growing and learning about myself and how to talk to others properly. Turns out I was pretty much autistic, so communication wasn't my strong point at all back then.

But even then, your two-faced behavior of proudly shitting on and bragging about how much money you were ripping off the furry community, the people who actively supported you, loved your work and paid your bills, was appalling. I had every right to call you out on it. Instead of accepting it was wrong, you sent your roommates out like attack dogs to fight your battles, defend your toxic behavior and harass me. Every time I blocked them they would find a different site to attack me on. I struggled to make friends for years after that incident, I felt I couldn't trust anyone because of what you guys did.

Years passed, and I genuinely hoped you had changed for the better, only to see a callout post during pride of all times, about your grossly acephobic attitude. I had friends who were blocked by you and didn't understand why. You need to understand your damaging actions have severe affects on real people, and when you make public apologies, the people who comment saying they forgive you don't count if they weren't the ones hurt by you. They don't speak for those affected.

I'm not looking for an apology, even if given one I probably wouldn't accept it after all the damage you've done to me. I have zero interest in you being in my life again. I just wanted to give you this perspective to get it off my chest and for you to mull on, I want you to use it to improve yourself as a person moving forward. See the wrong in your actions, how badly it affects others, and make the choice to make things right.

But that's up to you now.

Hey, I know who this is an I want you to know that I think about you often.

Read more below

Sometimes your stuff shows up on my feed or someone shares something with me that youve made because we have common interests and I think to myself Im glad theyre doing well and I hope youre surrounded by people who support you. I dont say this as a way to like Save face because this is a public anon. I would say this to you in private if I could. I was a very nasty person years and years ago and no apology will take back the pain Ive caused others from that. Especially not you. But I am sorry. I wish things could have been different. I do. For the acephobia. Yes. I was acephobic and horrible about it. I hurt a lot of people from that and cant ever take that back but know that Ive learned a lot about how to treat others and unpack the internalized hatred towards my own ace'ness and how others present themselves. I also want to say I never sent my roommates on you. That was a choice they did on their own without my knowledge. I never ever want someone to go after anyone on my behalf and while it is likely hard to believe that those who have known me these past 5-6 years can vouch that as true. I have on multiple occasions asked my friends to leave people alone I end up disagreeing with. I never name drop people I dont get along with. I dont even tell people besides my very very private close friends about what happened between me and you and that might be about 3 or 4 people at most. As for blocking? I block very liberally LOL and its almost never personal. I block people for the smallest things just to curate my social media experience. If you ever wanted to reconnect and try again Im here. And I have no hatred in my heart. I have held myself accountable all these years for things I should have done better. Handled softer. In the end Truly. Im glad youve made a beautiful career out of something you love and no matter what happens between us I hope you continue to thrive. With all my heart.

[plznomonkeys]

Wtf is up with reviewing on fanfiction these past years?

Mini-rant incoming

Y'all, idk what happened to these sites, but over the last couple years there has been huge changes on FF.net and AO3.

When I first started out in like, ~2011 ish, I was 16, young, dumb, wrote pretty cringe fanfics. MF's, I got a review on the first chapter of fics within 24 hours that I posted. They were honestly dogshit and I didn't have ANY concept of characterization. They just... did what I wanted them to.

One of my fanfics got over 400 reviews IN 3 MONTHS.

THATS OBSCENE

But now? I'm lucky to get a single review with a thumbs up emoji. And I get it, some people have nothing to say, but even little, "hey this is great, I like this, don't like this bit, but I'm still reading" is totally fine! I even rather have people give a review when they stop reading and tell me why. Because how the frickity frackity am I ever going to improve as a writer if nobody stops me?????

And I get it, maybe my writing just isn't good enough. That's entirely possible.

HOWEVER

If that was the case, why is my view count on FF over 500 reads per chapter? How about my AO3 being at over 5000 hits? If they were so shitty, why are people reading them?

And then I see these fucking posts online about people saying "oh yes, this fanfic was amazing, it means a lot to me, I love this author, they're amazing" but have they ever told the author that? No? Then they're shocked when the story gets abandoned.

I'm sorry, but reviews and commentary seriously matter for us authors. Seriously, they do. When I post a chapter that finally lore drops some seriously important notes to a story and nobody gives feedback, I start questioning myself. Did I do it right? Was it poorly written? Am I just fucking with myself and an idiot? I don't know, can't tell.

Tell your authors that their book is good. Once is not enough. Seriously, even just every few chapters tell them!

I've written two fics that are approximately 200,000 words deep, but they have very few reviews. And do you know what that looks like to a viewership? There is a massive amount of people who will read a review on the story before they pick it up. If there's a 1% ratio of reviews/comments to hits, it looks really really bad. It makes the story look like nobody is actually reading it through. This is why stories get abandoned. They live in the author's head, rent free.

I don't have to write it out honestly, I can keep it to myself if people don't want to review it. My Naruto fic is complete inside my head, the ending is set, I don't need to do anything more. So if people don't tell me they want to read it, then I'm not gunna write it. Like it's a pretty straight forward concept people seem to misunderstand.

And I get it, writing is supposed to be fun and stuff, but there's time and effort put in to making it work and keeping characters in character, in editing, in making the story read more enjoyable. Why would anyone put themselves into free labour for nothing in return?

It's just shitty, if I'm being honest, that people don't realize their stories are more likely to get put to the side if they don't show interest. Me personally, I comment and review everything I read, even if it isn't great, because I understand how important that fucking is.

Well, rant over, I guess, but I'm just super fucking salty.

And to those that do review, you're amazing. I have 3 loyal readers that I'm genuinely writing just for them, that's it. I hope they have warm sunshine and cool pillows.

[direct-actions]

Liberate the Internet -- Levels of Control

I've been thinking a lot about the way the internet has shrunk to just a few major platforms that can boost or silence us at a moment's notice.

I wanted to make a post talking about different types of platforms and the ways that they control what we see or say.

(disclaimer: I'm not an expert on this and am trying to start a conversation, so if you have more information or corrections please reblog and add / put in the comments / message me)

I'm not saying everyone needs to become experts on self-hosting (I don't know too much about it myself). There are options for people at all levels. So let's take a look.

Algorithms and Rules

This is your TikToks and your Facebooks. Here, all it takes is the algorithm being tweaked to suppress keywords or accounts and suddenly your content isn't being seen.

The pros here of course is that when you're not actively being suppressed, you have a much higher chance at reaching new people vs other options.

Moderated Spaces

Today, these platforms are generally separated into individual communities (think, MightyNetworks/Circle, Discord, forums, etc.). Reach is limited and niche, and content moderation is generally done by human beings instead of algorithms (with some exceptions).

The pros in these spaces are that you have stronger connections to people who will see your content, but your reach is narrower. As a community you get to decide what happens inside your group, but with the platform itself still in control, they could easily shut down an entire community if they wanted to.

Website Builders / Hosting

This is your Wordpress blogs, Blogger, and even Neocities, etc. Here, the website is mostly yours. You get to decide what's on it. Your content isn't being directly moderated or censored. But you're still part of a larger platform that helps connect / promote your site to others.

Pros here are of course you have MUCH more leeway in what you can post / share. Cons are that there is a lot less chance compared to some others for your website content to reach people. Also, your blog / site can in theory be disabled by the host platform if they decided to.

There's also using something like GoDaddy or IONOS or some other website hosting thing. There's a lot of variety and crossover in this area but basically the website belongs to you more than say a Wordpress Blog would. In theory the web host could decide to drop you but I think that's pretty rare.

Self-Hosting

This is now territory I'm not very familiar with but you could in theory fully host your own stuff making it harder for anyone to shut you down. There's even creating your own internet networks but that's way beyond me. (Really cool tho, I'd love to learn.)

Email Lists

This one is very different but I think really important. Email lists / mailing lists are not just for businesses wanting to promote their latest sale or latest online course. This is one of the most DIRECT ways you can have access to your followers if they're interested in what you have to say. No matter what happens to any platform, if you have their emails you will likely retain the ability to contact them (unless email is somehow destroyed but at that point I think we'll be having very different conversations)

(This could even be physical addresses or an old-school mailing list)

---

I bring this up because I'm really interested in moving toward a more autonomous and networked internet, and I think it's going to be necessary in the years to come.

Look up digital gardens for an example.

And if you're hoping to create / share anything online, consider diversifying the kinds of platforms you use, and pushing followers to places where you have more control over what you can share, and getting their emails.

[jaytherobot]

So Reddit has a new shitty UI

And I don't mean the old new UI that the people who use old.reddit like to complain about. I mean, a proper, new, twitterfied, shitty UI.

I haven't heard anyone talking about it, which might mean it's being slowrolled out, but it's possible I just missed the announcement and discourse. Or saw it and forgot. It's funny actually: I saw the logo and rebranding on a graphic design blog the day before it went live, but missed the UI redesign entirely.

Here it is:

I've boxed out the subreddits that would narrow down my location, but otherwise this is what it is. Oh, and I suppose the "recent" widget would be open by default as well. The thing about that is, if you drop into any sub, the name goes in the recent list. You drop into a weird sub you don't want people in your house knowing about? Well, you better go visit 4 other subs. There's no way to permanently keep the drawer closed or turn it off.

Below that, you can see all my subreddits and learn a great deal about my interests. It was certainly enlightening for me, having them all thrust into the light of day like that. I had a visceral reaction of disgust seeing some of the old subs I don't really follow anymore. A locus of old interests that seemed important at the time, but trite now. And of course, visiting them puts the sub name in the recents list. Right where you don't want to see it.

The feed defaults to "cards" mode, and seems to revert itself occasionally if you turn it back to "classic". Gone are the days of skimming the post headlines to find the content you want, the endless boredomscroll is here instead, just like every other site. This might be the worst part of it.

You'll also notice the recent posts feed on the right has a few subreddits I don't subscribe to in it. This used to be where you could easily access posts you had visited earlier to check the comments again. Now it exclusively has posts I have not clicked on, meaning it's likely driven by an algorithm trying to determine what I want to look at. Spoilers: I don't want to look at any of those posts, and I'm genuinely embarrassed r/SipsTea is up there. Again, there's no way to turn this off.

The feed itself seems more algorithm sorted than it used to as well. Sorting by best no longer delivers the top post from all your subs, but shuffles around posts at random, weighting subreddits you visit more more heavily. If you click forward and want to come back to a post you saw before, good luck finding it.

I... look, I know we were supposed to jump ship from Reddit. I tried, but some of the communities I'm a part of have been irreplaceable. It's been hard to let go. And yet, I feel like I'm being punished for trying to continue to be a part of them.

I really really hate it.

[ao3-helper]

I’ve got a question regarding ao3 and I’m not sure who to ask so I figured I’d start with you.

Do you know of anyway to sort bookmarks by word count? An extension maybe?

I bookmark any fic i even kinda enjoyed just so I don’t lose them and have everything in one place but I can’t figure out how to sort them by word count if that’s even possible. Any ideas?

The saddest news ever is that AO3 doesn't allow you to search the bookmarks by wordcount because the search system for those is different that the overall search system and would require to change it and well... This is AO3, it's a team of volunteers and things to change have a degree of importance. So yeah, maybe one day, but not today.

So! I looked for other options... And started to make a whole ass post before finding the best one right under my nose...

Best option: right in AO3, script required, ordered from bigger to smaller

The best option I could find is a modified version of the "AO3 Review + Last Chapter Shortcut + Kudos-sortable Bookmarks" script, which was a comment from 2019 and added a sort by word count option. To run the script you will need an extension like Tampermonkey, click on the pastebin link, copy the code, create a new script and paste it.

The original script add two clickable links right beside the title box allowing you to get to the last chapter right away and to download but also, if you go to the filter box, "Kudos" will be added in the dropdown list for "Sort by". The modified script, however, do not have that download button, but, it does add the option "Word Count" after "Kudos" in the "sort by" dropdown menu.

Once you've selected it and sorted by, it will display the work from bigger to smaller only. I unfortunately am not familiar with javascript so I can't modify anything, but I guess it's better than nothing.

I also do have to drop this post that links to a video which explains how to add plugins to firefox nightly on android because like that you can also have that option when you don't have your PC.

Hope this is what you were looking for!

If anyone wants, the other (lesser) options are under the cut.

Option 1: right in AO3, nothing else required, no order

When you bookmark works, you can add tags and notes. When on your bookmarks tab, you can search for those. Which means that you can add tags for a number corresponding to the word count of the fic. (say, 1000-2000, 2000-3000, etc) which means that you can look for the right tag for the word count you want.

This also means that you cannot sort them from bigger to smaller (or the contrary) but will still have an estimated length to help your search.

Option 2: right in AO3, needs a script, no order

Another option would be to use tampermonkey (or other similar extension) and add the "AO3: Estimated reading time" script. This script displays directly on the fic's box the reading time and you can let it display a colour depending on the level (colour that you can change to you wishes).

If you want to dig through the code, you can very easily change your wpm (I think it's set to 250 by default) and how many minutes changes the colour (for me, under 30 minutes will be green, between 30 and 90 will be yellow, above 90 will be red), but less easily add new levels. (but I guess you could modify and test things around to your wish, do remember to create a copy of the script so you can go back to original).

This means that you can browse through your bookmarks and have a visual help to know how long they are. But again, no order.

Option 3: out of AO3, needs an app, ordered

This option is nice if you read fanfictions on other site than just AO3, but it doesn require some works.

I found this tutorial on how to add work on Calibre (a free ebook reader) and add plugins so you can add fanworks and display a word count, that will therefore be ordered.

This is the second best solution, in my opinion, because it also downloads the works you want and like that you can always have them on hand, but I'm pretty sure it's only for pc.

[zorilleerrant]

I like to think that Rose makes fake infomercials for all of her products, and has roped all of her family, friends, and neighbors into making them. which means, eventually, The Doctor gets tapped to star in one, where he gamely holds up toys and talks about their fantastic qualities. now he's pretty charismatic, and he loves teddy bears and all, so I think he'd get very enthusiastic about this, and become very popular all over the internet.

so we know he always calls himself The Doctor, even in contexts where it doesn't make sense, but in a channel of fake toy infomercials (with real handmade toys to buy) I don't think people would question it too much. they even get him to say "trust me, I'm The Doctor" and other catchphrases like that by leaving comments. he develops a cult following, and, owing to this, Rose puts him in even more videos and gets him to talk up all of her most popular products. she's doing great business out of all this.

one time, he tries to show off a talking bear. the bear says something normal, like "I love you", but it's advertised with the ability to email Rose your own audio files and she'll record them for the bear. except this one doesn't turn on immediately - so The Doctor has to sonic it better. works pretty quickly, the bear starts playing music, and he goes, see, what a fascinating product! which, of course, makes the bear very popular after the video goes viral. what else does it do? well it makes people want his sonic screwdriver.

now I don't think almost anyone thinks it's an actual device, they think he was just being funny, but it means that Rose gets to design a whole bunch of novelty penlights and they start selling really well, too. (just cheap bulk ones and she sculpts decorations onto them, well within her wheelhouse.) and The Doctor, by popular demand, starts using them to give the plushies 'checkups' and make sure they're all feeling their best.

so, because he does silly little skits like that, and he's called The Doctor, people think he's a toy doctor, and start sending in their dolls and bears and toy cars and everything to get patched up. Rose can do that easily; that's the same sewing, stuffing, painting, etc. that she's already been doing when she makes things by hand. maybe she learns some new techniques, which I think she'd be excited to try, but most things I think would be very quick repairs and send all the toys home happy and healthy. except it's odd that it's happening so much, because no one has put together that people think The Doctor is, like, The Toy Doctor yet.

but The Doctor has also noticed this influx of orders and is all, well, if people are going to be sending so many in anyway we might as well add a separate order form, and while we're at it let's make our own site, that'll be cheaper and more convenient. and Rose is all do you even know anyone who can make a website because all my friends are, no offense, kind of bad at it, and you shouldn't believe them when they say they know how. and The Doctor's like of course I know someone, it's Mickey.

and Mickey's like, oh sure, I'll do you a favor, and drops by the house to help set up Rose's website because he wants to install some design software for her to make it easier to do mockups and such, and he gets to explaining, and then The Doctor finally comes home, and at first Mickey's like, hey, and keeps explaining, but then he finally looks at The Doctor and he's like. why do you have a different face that's the same face that I thought you already didn't have anymore, and The Doctor has to explain.

and then Mickey's like. I thought you lived with Martha now and also what happened to the version of you who looks like me, did you just abandon Martha? and The Doctor's like. I don't think that part has happened for me yet it's probably yet another version of The Doctor who isn't really The Doctor but just looks exactly the same because that's happened really a lot of times now. or else it's a future version of me! and Mickey is like. right well enjoy your website

and then Rose asks Mickey to do infomercials for her toys and since Mickey thinks the toy monsters are really cool he's very enthusiastic about them and then his videos go viral too

also Mickey is the only one who realized why people think he's The Toy Doctor and has to explain about toy hospitals