#like how is telling me the answer gonna help??

[starkeysprincess]

oooo ok girl I might’ve stalked your stepbro!rafe tag and the idea that he’d have to groom you to call him daddy is so 🙂↕️ and it gave me suuuuuch a good idea !!

-so reader is studying for a test and having Rafe help her like the good big brother he is, right? and he’s got you straddled on his lap and hand under your skirt while doing flash cards.

-If you get one right, he keeps rubbing your clit, if you’re wrong, he’s spanking you. you start doing super well and he can tell you’re getting close to cumming so he decides to fuck with you a little asking you questions about himself and then “who’s the only one that makes you feel this good” and you obviously answer “you” but then “who’s your daddy” (lmfaoooo I’m sorry😭) and you just whine and say no so he’s yanking his fingers away and smacking your ass again until you can answer correctly “wrong. you know what the answer is. probably the easiest out of all these questions. just don’t wanna say it, do you, too embarrassed that you slut yourself out to your big brother huh?” and eventually you’re crying as you’re forced to tell him that it’s him so you can cum.

warning — stepcest !!!

you’re so real for the “lmfaoooo i’m sorry” bc i also giggle sometimes when i see or hear “who’s your daddy?” 😭 this…this is sooooo 😵‍💫

the way he’d get annoyed that you’re starting to get the answers right…so naturally, yeah he decides to fuck with you cause it’s what he love to do. asking you who’s making you feel good, knowing damn well what your answer is gonna be cause you hate calling him “daddy”. which, gives him no choice but to smack your ass harshly cause it’s not what he wants to hear. you whine pathetically and argue that you said the right answer, “s’not what i wanna hear, you know the answer. use that pretty little head of yours properly, this is the easiest question”

“but it is you,” you whine, “c’mon, you know exactly what word i want that pretty mouth to say. you just don’t wanna say it cause you’re too embarrassed of how much of a slut you are for your big brother”

“all you gotta do is say it, stop making it difficult or you don’t get to cum,” he rasps, his fingers teasingly circling your clit. at this point, tears are welling in your eyes out of frustration because you don’t want to say it but you’re just so desperate for him to make you cum. it’s not till you’re practically choking out sobs when you finally say, “it’s you, daddy” before he finally gives in, “good girl, see, wasn’t so hard, hm?”

[shrimpybbq]

thinking of how maybe high school gf probably pushed herself too hard after emmy was born because she kind of reverted back to when charlie was a baby and how she had no help and also taking care of rafe on her own. and rafe obviously doesn’t like that

this is similar to the last ask i answered, but she definitely did - especially as rafe was so busy with work and trying to rebuild the reputation of cameron development. she tried to do everything by herself, always doing her best to manage a bubbly and adventurous charlie with a brand new baby that couldn’t be left alone. she was constantly telling rafe,

“No it’s ok, you need to rest.”

“You have a big meeting tomorrow with the investors, don’t worry about this. I can take care of it.”

rafe was also off the drugs by that time, but when she noticed him start to drink more and more she began to do her best to help him. it didn’t really work, but he did promise her he would set a limit on his drinking. rafe didn’t realise how stressed and overwhelmed she was until he came home from a meeting one day, only to see her sobbing on the bed as she cradled emmy in her arms, the small baby crying non-stop.

“Hey, hey - baby! What’s going on? Are you ok?” he asked, watching her almost not even register his words.

“She won’t stop crying, Rafe! I’ve fed her, and I’ve changed her, and I sang to her and wore her and she just won’t stop and Charlie wants to play in the garden and I need to get your suit ready for tomorrow and the-“

rafe froze as he watched his wife cry, finally realising just how much she had been doing, and that maybe - despite her claims, she wasn’t coping. he felt awful and couldn’t believe he had been too blind to notice her struggling.

“Hey, give her to me, ok? Go take a nice bath, with all those salts and fragrances you like. I’m gonna look after the kids and get everything done,” rafe had commanded.

“No, but-”

“No, baby. You need to relax. You deserve it,” he continued, grabbing emmy from her arms as she looked up at him pitifully, “and ‘m sorry. I should’ve seen that you weren’t ok. I’m gonna do better and be here more often, m’kay? I’m not gonna be like my dad.”

rafe had practically dragged her into the bathroom and closed the door before walking down to the kitchen with his daughter. she had stopped crying after a few moments in her father’s arms (go figure),

“Hey, you’re not being very nice to your mother, you know that?”

rafe had carried out all the tasks he knew were on her list for the evening and even ordered take out for dinner that night, not wanting her to do any more work. he grinned as she wandered down the stairs after an hour, noticing her calmer demeanour,

“Feeling better, baby?”

she gave him a low hum in agreement and he had smiled once more, reaching down to kiss her. his hands ran over her hair, smoothing down the wet strands and admiring his wife.

“I meant what I said. You’re not doing this alone, and if I ever make you feel that way again, tell me. I gotta take care of you - you’re my wife. We’re partners in this shit.”

rafe and high school gf shared a smile and another kiss before turning to the gurgling baby girl in her high chair, her chubby cheeks now smushed full of food. she was the perfect mix of the two of them, and as the couple admired their baby girl, they shared a warm embrace.

[slvttyplum]

"an apprenticeship? really? he should be studying under you, why are you letting him do it." the tone in your voice changing causing naruto to turn around, his eyes furrowed as he walks over to you, leaning on the counter with his arms crossed, staring at you wash your hands in the sink.

"what's that supposed to mean?" your voices going quiet.

the silence was damning, you knew what you said and how you said it was wrong, but you were the only one who could talk to naruto in a way where you weren't coddling words, that's why he loved you.

"you gonna answer me or just say what you want without expecting a response?" naruto also said shit like you did, causing lots of arguing.

"excuse me?" quickly turning off the sink, and he could read your face like a book, his body stiffening and his blood running cold. he just couldn't let you have the last word, and he got into deep shit for it.

"you wanna do this now?" turning off the water and quickly wiping your hands off with the towel that hung beside you, wasting no time to mimic his position while looking at him, eyebrows furrowed and all.

"you know what? let's do it." his conscience telling him to back down now and not to cause any more drama, to just apologize and say that the both of you would talk about it in the morning, but his pride was just too damn big.

"alright, let's do it. one. you're never home, the only time you're home is when it's a life or death situation or for sex." naruto's mouth opening for a rebuttal but quickly closing back when you hold up your hand holding up two fingers.

"two. i have to do everything around this damn house including parenting, yet you don't want my advice on what your children should or shouldn't be doing." naruto once again opening his mouth trying to defend a case he hasn't even built yet, but you're a little too fast, adding a third finger to the mix.

"three. i'll go easy on you and let this be the last one." every time i critic sasuke, you're the first to defend him. this man made your life a living hell, the least you can do is not defend him every fucking time."

a few seconds of silence pass and naruto's face unclenches, his whole body does. a smile forming on his face as he turns towards you, leaning on the counter again.

"you know, i missed this." your face scrunching in confusing as you tuck your arms in again, you could always count on naruto to look like he just one a million dollars when getting degraded.

"are you fucking delusional? did you hear anything i just said?" naruto still smiling, walking towards you, his hand around your waist and his eyes tracing your face.

"i did, loud and clear, my love. i missed you putting me in my place, telling me how it is, because you're right." your mouth open with shock, narutos hands rubbing over your ass and a grin on his face, this was the first time in fifteen years he's said that you were right… fifteen years.

"i'll be better, i'll do better, starting with us. i won't let him do the apprenticeship, he'll study under me. hm?" his eyes now locked in on yours, the sincerity written all over his face, showing you that he was serious.

scoffing as your arms wrap around him, snuggling into his chest.

"finally got your fill of scolding?" naruto would be lying if he said he didn't get scolded every time he walked through the door, because he most definitely did.

before this, he didn't know when he would start being home consistently, being with you, helping around the house, helping his son.

he finally got the realization that there could be no more waiting, his family needed him now, he couldn't rely on his best friend to train his son, you put that into perspective for him, and he couldn't begin to thank you enough.

"i love you, im always listening when you think im not. let me be there for you." his hands rubbing back up to your waist, his arms squeezing around you, kissing the top of your head.

[rhiannonsknife]

While rewatching yj i was thinking about what if Jackie became our friend while being stuck in wilderness.

She never talked to us before, maybe just a few times in practice or in class. But she literally has no one out there since everyone has turned their backs on her. So what if we start talking to her, make her do some chores to make her fit in and standing up for her when someone bashes her. And then you guys make fun of whatever cult-related thing that’s going on.

I feel like Jackie would cherish that and she really just needs someone to be girling with out there cuz she’s all lonely and i wanna hug her soo bad.

this reminds me of how no one came out to comfort jackie after her fight with shauna :((( guys i would’ve been out there instantly!!

jackie slams the cabin door behind her as she storms out into the cold, the sound reverberating through the otherwise quiet room. inside, the tension is palpable: shauna standing stiff, everyone else awkwardly pretending they’re not watching. no one says a word. no one goes after her.

no one except for you. the moment she disappears into the dark, you’re already grabbing your jacket.

you’ve been watching jackie unravel for weeks, her usual confident demeanor cracking under the weight of the wilderness, the isolation, and now the fight with shauna. the final straw in a series of events that broke her slowly.

jackie’s not perfect, far from it. but is anyone out here? besides, she’s been your friend, or as close to a friend as anyone can have in this hellscape.

you’ve seen how everyone’s turned on her, how she struggled to keep up and you’re not about to let her do it alone.

"where are you going?” shauna asks sharply as you put your jacket on.

“to get her,” you say simply.

“she’ll come back,” someone mutters. you don’t even bother turning to see who.

“yeah?” you snap, halfway out the door. “and what if she doesn’t?”

the cold hits you like a slap as you step outside and move toward where you think she’s gone, calling her name.

“jackie! jackie, come on, it’s freezing out here!”

at first, there’s no answer, just the wind howling through the trees around. there’s no snow yet, but judging by the constantly dropping temperature, there will be soon. you keep going, your breath puffing out in visible clouds as you search. when you finally spot jackie, it’s by a log at the edge of the clearing. her arms are wrapped around her knees, her head bowed, and she’s shivering violently already. she doesn’t look up until you’re right in front of her.

“what are you doing here?”

“looking for you,” you reply, crouching down beside her. “what the hell are you thinking, sitting out here? it’s freezing”

“go back inside,” jackie says, brushing hair from her face. “i’m fine”

“you’re not fine,” you counter. “jackie, you’ll freeze to death out here. come back inside!”

her jaw tightens, and she looks away, her breath hitching. “why do you care? clearly the others don’t”

“that’s not true, they’re just-” you pause, trying to find the right words. “it’s not you they’re mad at, not really. it’s this…place. what it’s doing to us!”

jackie lets out a bitter laugh. “that’s not how it feels”

you don’t know what to say to that, so instead, you shift closer, wrapping your arm around her shoulders. she tenses but doesn’t pull away.

“i care,” you say quietly. “and i’m not gonna let you freeze out here just because things are hard”

she turns to look at you then, her eyes glassy, her cheeks flushed from the cold. finally, she swallows hard. “i don’t want to go back in there. i can’t”

“yes, you can,” you tell her firmly, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “i’ll be right there with you, okay? if anyone says anything, i’ll handle it. you don’t have to do this alone!”

jackie hesitates, but when another gust of wind sweeps through, she shivers and nods. you stand first, holding out your hand.

“come on,” you say, your tone soft but insistent. she stares at your hand before taking it, her grip surprisingly tight as you help her to her feet. you keep your arm around her as you guide her back toward the cabin, the warmth of your body pressed against hers.

when you open the cabin door, the room instantly falls silent. all eyes are on jackie as she steps inside, her chin lifted just slightly, trying to hold on to whatever pride she has left.

you don’t leave her side.

[deathblacksmoke]

dying to get you dizzy

pairing: matt dierkes x f!reader x davis rider

word count: 2.8K

cw: partner sharing, poor communication, the boys are dummies, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), protected p in v sex, voyeurism, ~matty in the cuck chair~, m masturbation, a bit of jealousy & possessiveness, a dynamic that won't stop switching, boys kissing <3 (if you noticed i missed any warnings, please lmk!!!)

author's note: i don't remember how i got this idea — a little too much thc maybe? — but then an anon requested it and here we are. i hope it lives up to the expectations i set for it!

title from "dizzy on the comedown" by turnover

banner by @darksigns-exe 🩷

You couldn’t say with any sort of confidence how you got here.

It started with a glance, you think — an innocent look that lingered a little long. You know Matt caught it, judging by the way he had you pressed against the wall the moment Davis left, littering your neck and chest with possessive kisses and sucking bruises into your skin.

You vaguely remember his whisper in your ear before you came for the second time on his fingers, could barely make it out over the whooshing in your ears. Your legs had given out beneath you, kept from collapsing only by his hand wrapped gently around your neck and his leg between your thighs.

You want him, huh?

You didn’t know how to answer. You weren’t quite sure if you knew the answer yourself, but found yourself dizzied by the thought of it. His gaze seared through you, and you couldn’t help it. His words gave you no other option.

Don’t be shy, honey. You can tell me. You want him, don’t you?

With a desperate nod and a whine and an unintelligible plea, your vision blacked, your muscles failing you.

Everything between that and this — perched on the floor between Davis’ thighs while Matt kisses over your bare neck and shoulders — was a blur.

Matt’s big hands on your skin ground you, while one glance up at the man above you makes you feel like you’re floating. The push and pull between the safety of Matt’s presence and the watchful eyes of his friend is enough to make your head swim.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for him?” Matt asks, his warm breath beneath your ear goose pimpling your skin. You nod — there’s no other choice — you want to be good for them both. “Why don’t you ask him what he wants, honey?”

When you look up at Davis, he isn’t meeting your eye. Suddenly, you feel so very small — you almost want to shy away, but Matt was right, you did want this.

“Davis, can I—?” your voice comes out more as a croak than anything. You place a hand on his thigh, not too high, not trying to push any boundaries. He looks down at you with wide eyes, and you’re not quite sure what to do. “How do you want me?”

His gaze flits away from you, to where Matt is knelt behind you, and for the first time it occurs to you that maybe they didn’t discuss this at all before Davis came here. You turn around in Matt’s arms, looking at him in disbelief. He has the nerve to look confused.

“What, baby?” he asks. You can’t help but roll your eyes.

“What exactly did you discuss when you invited him?” you ask him, and he looks at you a little stupid. His silence tells you all there is to know, and as exasperated as it makes you, you’re sadly not shocked. You and Matt haven’t done anything like this before, and it had surprised you how quickly the arrangement had been set up. Looking back, you probably should have expected that the plans were made without any sort of discussion on rules or boundaries or expectations.

You excuse yourself from Davis and take Matt to another corner of the room.

“What is he expecting to happen here today?” you ask Matt, and you think there ought to be a bit of shame painted on his face, but his expression betrays nothing. He has no idea what he’s done wrong. You often feel a dull urge to shake him — never stronger than in this moment. “Did you just ask him if he wanted to fuck me, and he said yeah, and now we’re all here?”

You were prepared for his answer, but it infuriates you anyway. “I mean, more or less.”

You’d like to tell him how lucky he is that you love him.

“What are you expecting to happen here today?” you ask, and you can see as he almost shrugs, but thinks better of it. You decide to file that away. “What are the rules? What’s off limits?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m concerned,” he responds, and the buzzing is back, a warmth erupting beneath your skin and coursing through you. “You’ll have to ask him. But you can do whatever you feel like, baby. This is for you.”

“How involved do you want to be?” you ask him, just to clarify, not wanting to leave him out. He shrugs, like you’re deciding on dinner and he couldn’t care less, not making belated negotiations on a three-way. You let him have his indecision. “So I’m in charge. That’s fun.”

“Told you it’s for you,” he replies, as simple as ever.

You press a kiss to his cheek, another to the corner of his mouth. You can never stay mad at him for long — a blessing and a curse.

“You should have had this talk with him, you know,” you add for good measure. He nods, and you’re still not sure he gets it, but you’ll let it go for now. Turning away from him, you’re a little too eager to get back to Davis.

You perch yourself on the bed next to him, your knee pressing into his thigh, but not yet daring to get closer. Not until you ask.

“I hear Matty didn’t really talk much with you about what was going to happen here,” you start. He shakes his head — a bit obvious. “He asked you if you wanted to fuck me, though?” you continue. He gives you a shy little nod, so quiet and nervous today. You can’t help the way it has you squirming a little, especially as you notice him getting a little brave, the knuckles of his index and middle finger grazing gently over your bare thigh. “And you do, right?”

“Can you come a little closer?” he asks, finally speaking up. He sounds so sure, just like always, not timid in the way that you’d expected him to be, judging by his behavior today. You start slowly scooting closer before he gets a gentle grip on your leg, prompting you to swing it over him. With his thigh between your legs, you feel so shy again, your skin hot all over. You throw your arms over his shoulders, burying your face in his neck. The smell of his cologne floods your senses.

“What do you want?” you ask, your skin goose-pimpling as his hands toy with the edges of your panties, sliding under to feel the bare skin of your ass. Your skin goes hot-cold-hot and it dizzies you. You swallow thickly, and your words come out barely louder than a whisper. “You have to tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” he says, the fingers of one of his hands running through your hair, gently directing your gaze up to meet his. “Anything you want. If I want you to stop, I’ll say,” he assures you, his lips meeting yours, but just barely. “I don’t think that’ll happen, though.”

Your head feels so fuzzy with the permission, with the free-reign you’ve been given. You find your way back between his spread legs again, just barely catching his soft gasp as you go. As you run a hand over his sweats, you feel him hard under your palm, and it’s without a second thought that you pull his waistband down, freeing his cock and marveling at the size.

When you hear a rustling behind you, you chance one last look over your shoulder at Matt — in the armchair next to your dresser, his gaze intently focused on the two of you, his hand already down the front of his sweats. His expression doesn’t change as you study him.

When you turn back around, his watchful eye bores through you. You remind yourself of the explicit permission, the enthusiastic consent, the free-reign to be in charge that they both gave you, as you take Davis’ cock between your lips.

The overwhelm is so immediate, a whooshing in your ears as everything consumes your senses, your mind racing and empty all at once. His cock is heavy on your tongue, and you make a conscious effort to ignore all the sounds going on around you, the twitch in your mouth as you slide your tongue through his slit, his soft gasps, the unmistakable sounds of Matt’s low groans and the distinctive spit-slicked noises. Davis runs a hand through your hair again and tugs — you choke, needing a moment to pull away and catch your breath. You keep your hand stroking him, admiring the way the tip is already red and angry and leaking pre-cum.

You look up at Davis to find his gaze trained just past you again. If he notices that the movement of your hand has slowed, he doesn’t show it. When you peer over your shoulder at Matt, it’s almost as if you’re not in the room at all. 

A spark of mischief keeps your feelings from hurting.

“Matty,” you interrupt his thoughts, directing his gaze to you. “Are you guys having a staring contest?”

He looks at you a little dumb. You remind yourself you have the upper hand here, despite what Matt may like to tell himself.

“Why don’t you give him a little kiss?” you ask, your attention back on Davis, delighting in the widening of his eyes as his cock twitches unmistakably in your grasp.

Matt doesn’t react for a few long moments. You consider pivoting away from the topic before you hear a shuffling behind you, but you don’t dare a look backwards.

The bed dips beneath his weight as he kneels beside his friend, and he looks down at you, his expression calm. You reach for him, yearning for the contact, and his hand twines with yours before his attention returns to Davis.

You can’t tell who leans in first. They gaze at each other for a beat before the subtlest shift, their lips meeting softly. Davis places a hand on Matt’s jaw and the grip on your hand tightens, just slightly. Matt’s eyes flicker closed a moment later, his eyelashes fluttering prettily against the tops of his cheeks. You can see the beginnings of a small smile.

You watch Davis treat him gently and a buzzing erupts beneath your skin.

You’ve felt it countless times but have never seen it like this — the way his muscles relax, the slow unclenching of his jaw as a thumb soothes over his skin, the flutter of his eyelashes as he lets out the pretty sigh. You’ll never lose sight of how gorgeous he looks, always but especially so under the spell of being treated with a delicate hand.

You almost can’t help the little piece of you that feels impatient, jealous. You don’t notice yourself tugging on him until Matt pulls away from Davis, lips swollen and smirking.

“Are you feeling left out?” he teases.

When Davis drifts a finger over your cheek and looks down at you curiously, you feel subtly embarrassed that he can feel just how red hot your skin is, can see you squirming.

It’s completely without his beckoning that you find yourself rising from the floor and crawling into his lap. Matt’s hand finds the small of your back, a gentle guidance, as Davis curls a hand around your exposed hip. You’ve never felt so surrounded.

When your lips finally meet his in a kiss, you can taste Matt on his tongue. A gasp escapes as you shift yourself closer, burying your fingers in his hair. Behind you, Matt snickers at your desperation, crowding into your space and pressing his lips to your ear.

“Your turn?” he asks, getting a handle on the situation, no trace of teasing left in his tone. You nod frantically.

He’s so solid beneath you, but soft and pliable in a way you’ve grown unaccustomed to with Matt. There’s no playful push and pull as he responds to your every move and lets you lead the way. He shifts beneath you, his cock pressing hard against your inner thigh, and your vision goes fuzzy.

Upon turning back to Matt, you’re greeted with his pretty smile — all knowing, steps ahead, as always — and you can’t help the way you melt.

“I want him,” you confess, as if it wasn’t already clear. He just nods, presses a kiss to the side of your mouth before lending you space again. 

You find your gaze still trained on him, eyes wide. Matt nudges you, pointing a finger towards Davis. “You have my permission. You need to ask him, my love.”

You curl your fingers through the soft hair at the base of his skull, cradling the back of his head in your hand. He’s so warm, so solid beneath you, and you want him so badly. He stretches up to place a delicate kiss on your mouth, then another, and another. Butterflies fill your tummy.

“Do you want me?” you breathe into his mouth. He smiles against your lips.

“You know I do,” Davis responds, pulling you as close as he can get you, his strong hands kneading the plush skin of your ass, your thighs, every available inch of you.

You don’t need to ask him how he wants you. The moment you climb off of him, he quickly strips himself of his clothes. You take in the long lines of his body, his pretty tattooed skin, as you take off your bra and panties. You feel more exposed than ever, more eager than before.

Davis reaches into the bedside table for a condom — lucky guess — and props himself against the pillows. Matt has made his way back to the chair, happy to watch, nodding towards the bed when you take a final look back at him.

When you crawl back into his lap, Davis’ fingers find their way to your center, running gently through your folds. It’s so subtle, but your eyes roll into the back of your head nonetheless.

“You’re so wet,” he marvels, making you blush. “You’re gonna feel so nice. Are you ready for me?”

In place of an answer, you just scoot yourself forward, taking him in your hand and letting yourself sink down. You immediately feel so full of him, overwhelmed in a way you weren’t expecting. You lay your palms rest flat against his tummy, his warm and soft skin beneath your fingers grounding you as you set a languid pace, a slow grind over his lap.

He lets you stay in control, his hands not on your hips but toying with your nipples — a brush here, a light pinch there, making your skin tingle with pleasure, an involuntary gasp, and then another. You use the leverage of your hands on his torso to begin lifting yourself up, closing your eyes, sinking back down, quicker. The build-up has made you feel a little out of your head, and you feel so nice, you’re not quite sure how long you’ll be able to make yourself last.

You hear a movement behind you before you feel the bed sink under a weight, a hand on your knee, a touch that’s become unmistakable to you. You lift your head and open your eyes, grateful to see Matt there in front of you, next to Davis. The contrast of Matt’s expanse of soft skin and Davis’ tattoos — you can’t deny they look pretty together. The hand Matt doesn’t have around himself moves from your knee between your folds, swiping over your clit, a light pressure, making your skin buzz.

Their hands working in tandem to make you feel good, Matt’s between your legs and Davis’ on your breasts, completely overcomes you. You watch in awe as they kiss again, a peek of tongue dancing between their open mouths, whispers between kisses that you can’t make out, their fingers still bringing you ever closer to your climax. You fight against your eyes fluttering closed, needing to keep sight on them before you. 

Matt groans into the other’s mouth and you know that sound, redirect your glance just in time to watch as his cum spills onto Davis’ tummy. Davis doesn’t follow far behind him, for the first time getting a tight grip on your hip and thrusting up into you, spilling into the condom.

With a final whine, you collapse forward, letting your orgasm overwhelm you. You feel two distinct hands on you, lips pressing into your hair, whispers of good girl and good job, baby as your senses fade out.

Rolling off of Davis and collapsing between them, sandwiched between them as they both curl themselves around you, you hope they miss the mischievous little twinkle in your eye as an idea pops into your head — a plan for part two.

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@shilohrosechicken

[yanderenightmare]

Do you normally get any 'ew, you're disgusting' shit in your inbox? I just now posted my first incest fic and got one like 'i hope you don't have any siblings lalala'. Prior to that, I was like "how do these authors go untouched by antis?" but then I realised that it was a tad bit naive of me lol. I was going to respond with a taunt but decided to just delete it because it wasn't worth the effort.

Are they frequent and are they easy to ignore?

Good question! I was actually going to make a post on this, as others have asked me the same thing, so here we go!

♡ Personal experience!

I get my fair share of hate from time to time—more often when I publish things that are more taboo than other excepted things—for example, like you say, incest, as well as bestiality, wide age gap, born-sexy-yesterday readers, etc.

It's an odd thing, as haters will often accept the fact that I write rape for titillation but will take issue with these other tropes. But anyway, we can talk about the nonsensical opinions of haters all day, but it wouldn't really do us any good.

So, here's my advice.

♡ First off, accept that haters are gonna hate!

Some people won't like what you write. And that's fine. The problem is that they feel the need to tell you that—at which point, you'll just have to console yourself by telling yourself that no decent person would be rude to a total stranger whom they don't know the first thing about and, therefore, whatever they have to say warrants neither second thought nor reply.

With that being said, however...

♡ You gotta do what feels right!

Engage or don't engage, do what you need to feel at peace. Sure, you can be the so-called bigger man and ignore all the meanies, but you absolutely don't have to!

Of course, we can be cool as cucumbers and say, "Not worth the effort," but who are we kidding? This is Tumblr, and you're allowed to rant when you want in whatever manner you want!

So, if you feel you gotta bite back to maintain your sanity, then that's what you should!

However, I do believe there's a way to go about it!

♡ Never go to bed angry!

This is my personal advice, but if you ever choose to acknowledge hate or critique, do so with tact and with based and factual arguments instead of slinging heated insults in return.

This way, you walk away from the fight feeling good about what you've said and not worse off than before. In other words, don't stoop down to their level.

I actually feel in many ways that answering hate can be rather therapeutic this way, as you've succesfully turned something negative into soemthing positive!

♡ The difference between hate and critique!

Actually doesn't matter. You're not really obligated to answer either if you don't want to.

But for the sake of differentiating the two: "Ew, you're disgusting" is hateful slander, but "Incest is wrong, and you're actively condoning it by writing what you write" is a genuine critique.

And it bears repeating, you don't have to address either because you don't owe anyone anything.

People are entiteld to their opnions just as much as you're free to disagree, and ignore if you want!

But something I've found is that explaining it to those who don't understand why we write such things, and furthermore why people want to read it without being interested in such things in real life, is actually quite a rewarding thing to do!

And by that, I mean it might make your critics and haters understand and rethink their comments, but it can also help your existing fans deal with their own similar self-loathing, and lastly, it's even great for your own mental health for when you yourself doubt your own mental standing!

Personally, in regard to the example I used above, when I get hit with the "you're condoning this and that" I just play the argument that those who play violent videogames aren't condoning the killing carried out by their avatar. Naturally, when roleplaying a fictional version of ourselves, we're not actually playing as ourselves.

Some people have a very hard time understanding this for some reason.

But anyway, moving on.

♡ Final advice!

Ignore and delete any and all the dumb, off-handed comments you feel like. If and when you want, return their rudeness with a cheeky smile and a slap on their ass. Be as cordial as you can be but as sassy as you feel you must—like an aged Queen who drinks her fair share of likewise wine.

But whatever you do, don't ever make things personal!

Though that's also my personal advice. I think, by making personal attacks, you're not being factual anymore, and you'll only feel worse for it. And by personal attacks, I mean calling people ignorant, dumb, awful, etc. You can, of course, say that their chosen words were in ill taste, but going after them themselves won't make you feel better. So, I'd suggest avoiding it.

Anyway, hope this helps!

[stillwithmeisonlyyou]

Hey so i saw a tiktok the other day and inspired me to write a little sort of microfic

So here it goes

(also in my mind reg is a cat animagus, that is how this prompt in my idea makes sense, also that's how he managed to hide from sirius)

Black brother estrangement angst fanfic idea

(I know it is a stupid name, but like i don't have a title)

Remus: "Why don't you just tell him? I mean I get it, but you can't hide this forever."

Regulus averted his eyes and sighed: "Maybe not forever but I'll put it off as long as I need to."

Remus: "That's consistent of you but you have to admit this is absurd. Surely you have missed him? Can't you put your resentment aside?"

Regulus: "It isn't my resentment I'm afraid of. He'll be angry with me I know it."

Remus: "Ok maybe he will be later and you'll talk about it, but i think it would make him an asshole if he started a fight right away with his long lost brother who he believed to be dead for years. I'm just saying it might not be as bad as you fear."

Regulus seemed lost in thought and for a moment Remus thought he wouldn't answer. To the untrained eye, his hesitence could seem like a consideration of what he had just been told, but Remus knew better: "No it will be. Sirius is nothing if not dramatic. And our problems aside I knew he cared. I think he'd expect me to come to him for help despite everything we had going on at the time. I know he'd help me. Or at least... I want to believe that he would. It must have hurt him that I didn't and then I allegedly died and now, I hate that I went about it this way but at the time... I was spiteful. I resented him for leaving me alone there... And I know that its selfish and I know that it was sadistic to expect him to take the abuse, and he knew it too. We fought a lot back then, I hated it. When he looked at me like, like- I was them and I was just as cruel and evil as our parents I just... I could see that he resented me and he was angry and maybe he even hated me I... I could never say the right thing. I always said I hated him right back and pushed him away when all I really wanted was him and now... I think its too late. He's better off without all this emotional baggage bullshit. Maybe I deserve this.

Remus could see through Regulus' avoidant bullshit a mile away but he was pretty sure Regulus could see it too. That means he must have truly believed it. So he decided to leave the topic and approach it later, he knew that Regulus felt trapped under what he interpreted as interrogation of any kind. So he turned back to leave the kitchen to leave Regulus alone with his thoughts when he saw him- this absolutely stunning man that was Regulus' brother. He had such beautiful eyes, a deeper shade than Reg's and the way he carried himself and dressed was absolutely divine. Remus was lost in thought and fully staring now and a small part of him was worried that he was gonna be caught but the object of his desires seemed to be rather occupied at the moment. He was just about to think what could he be looking at this dumbstruck when he realized, wait, Regulus' BROTHER?!

Remus: Uhm hey Reg, I think you have put it off as long as you could; this is it.

This is like the first cohesive thing I have ever written and English isn't my first language (don't get ur hopes up hehe) so pls be kind

Anyway yea this is it. Should i go on with it?Also here is an extra little dialogue although i don't know if id incorprate it in here somewhere:

S: I don't want to lose you again

R: I don't want to lose you at all

S: Yea no I don't reccomend it.

...

S: Just... if you go and don't come back... I will never be able to forgive you and I will miss you... I'll just be miserable. Please don't do that to me. Don't evade me. Not this time.

R: Ok

[weralika]

this broke me in half and I'm gonna say this

Kevin really tries to be kind sometimes, he sees that Neil and Andrew and other foxes deserve it, tho he doesn't know how to be kind.

he knows how to be helpful — it means to nag people into perfection, to make them become better versions of themselves, maybe Neil is the only one who sees it, because he knows his language — exy is life for him and an opportunity to become someone for others.

Neil appreciates his efforts, he literally devoted the majority of his nights to teaching Neil.

he's not kind in general, just because he doesn't now how to do those widely appreciated kind gestures, and when he tries — it's awkward for everyone in the room and he thinks even Wymack cringes inwardly in his study, as if he always knows that his son is stupid.

he tries to be better, once he gives Neil a little praise and Neil answers with "never do if again" and it makes Kevin sad I swear. he wants to be human, wants his friends to smile when he gives them a protein bar or makes a protein shake with added sugar just to their taste. it's still awkward, but one day Neil says "it's just... not like you" and Kevin starts trying harder.

He's kind and wants everyone to see it, wants to be a good friend for them.

he books a table in a restaurant just for dan and wymack because they need time together.

he says "It's good that you have someone by your side with all that... must be good to have your person" and Nicky cries a little because this time Kevin doesn't mention the merits of being heterosexual athlete

he talks to Allison about her life and her family because he knows she doesn't like to share things with her close friends, and Kevin isn't her close friend so she tells literally everything while trying to paint his nails.

he talks to Matt about best pro teams, telling which one he thinks is better for him. and Matt asks him about his future, and Kevin is too stupid to answer "wanna be closer to my family"

he teaches Aaron to use a computer, because Kevin's had time to learn it (not without Wymack's help) and Aaron never owned a computer before, and has been too afraid to try, basically he shows how to use word document and printer but. it's a lot.

he goes to church with Renee once or twice, she says "it's so kind of you" but then he realises, he is kind to himself this time. he remembers his mother taking him to church every Sunday and that's why he goes, it's not for Renee now, it's for him.

he also chooses pro teams for Andrew and Neil. it's far from his new city, but it's better for them — they have strong anti-discrimination policy and the city isn't too warm on summers or too cold on winters. he talks about that team every time Andrew calls him to check in but there must be something he's done wrong this time. Andrew joins Kevin's pro team, saying "your couch is my couch" as if he wants to be kind too. everybody knew how Kevin missed them.

Neil Josten whenever Kevin attempts to be kind

[p4nd4m00n1um]

ITS THE PEOPLE WHO TEACH YOU HOW TO DO SOMETHING YOU DONT UNDERSTAND RATHER THEN JUST TELL YOU THE ANSWER

[roseworth]

what a fucking week (it’s 2 pm on a monday)

[misc-obeyme]

Barbatos is loved for his perfection, but what if we love him and were not perfect?

This is something I think about a lot. Barbatos is famously good at everything he does, and while that may simply seem impressive and admirable. I van only ever imagine it being slightly painful. Yeah, at the start, I'd be like "Wow, I love my multitalented boyfriend. I love to watch him work his magic." But then when it comes to something I also love doing, I'd just feel inferior.

I'll be using gardening as an example. I love gardening! I've had flower and vegetable gardens my whole life. In fact, I just planted one for this season, and I like to think I'm pretty good at it. So, when I ask Barbatos for some help with my garden, it'll all be fine and dandy, and we'll have a nice little gardening date. All is well until I go to the Demon Lord's Castle and bare witness to the huge gardens with herbs even the masters couldn't cultivate. (Simeon mentions this about Barbatos' Dark Thyme, I believe. Could be wrong, though)

So now, whenever I ask Barbatos for help in my garden, I can only feel that he's bored and believes I'm doing something wrong because he is so much better than I.

Even if it's not him who harnesses a skill, just someone he knows. Barbatos is the butler of the future king of the Devildom, meaning he attends all the balls, meaning he sees the live orchestra. Imagine how inferior I would feel when I find out Barbatos has seen the best cello players of all time play in front of him several times over. Do you think I'd ever want to play for him after that? No way!

That's another thing I often think about. Just the fact that he's done or seen far better shows of skill would completely put me off and make me not want to show him anything in the first place.

I know he'd say I'm silly and reassure me he loves me no matter what. He doesn't care about my level of skill! BUT I CARE ‼️

I think perhaps you're missing one very crucial thing here. Barbatos would love to help you with your garden because it's yours. He would love to hear you play the cello because it would be you he gets to hear. He would see you putting your heart and soul into something you love and that's the part that would matter the most to him.

Imagine that someone you love, who has never gardened before in their life, decides to start a garden. Would it bore you to help them? Or would you see that as an opportunity to flex your own gardening skills? Maybe you tell them about things that messed you up in the beginning and save them from undesirable results. Maybe you feel happy when they succeed because you gave them good advice. Maybe they come across a problem in their garden that you didn't have to deal with in yours, but with the experience you already have about gardening, you're able to help them find a solution.

I feel like I can give some insight on this concept in a more general sense and inevitably it informs how I think Barbatos would be.

I'm kind of known irl for being "the writer." And that means that people want to show me their writing. I've never once read someone else's writing and been like, wow I'm bored and I know I could write this so much better. It isn't my story. It's theirs. And it's theirs in a way that is unique to them. I could never hope to replicate it. Just because they're not as experienced at it as I am doesn't mean it isn't just as important as anything I've written. I get excited when I see people writing because I love to write and now this is a passion we share.

I think Barbatos would be absolutely thrilled that you enjoy gardening. Because it's something he enjoys, too. I don't think he would ever compare you to anyone else, whether you're gardening or playing the cello or writing or even making tea. It doesn't matter how skilled he is or how perfect he is. What matters is that you're doing something that you love and he gets to share a piece of that with you.

Everything has been done before and there will always be someone better at something than you. What makes that thing special is that it's yours. And I can't imagine for one second that Barbatos wouldn't understand that concept on such a deeply fundamental level that he probably doesn't even realize it.

[wingsofhcpe]

how do you politely tell your uni classmates that you're not gonna sit the exam for them

[gifti3]

Im in such an obey me mood today haha

other than "pls dont tell asmo about that",,,, i have questions about these freaking vegetables (im putting under the cut since im talking about food and bad eating habits/diet related stuff)

im assuming they would have to be mixed with other regular ingredients to prevent the hunger but it sounds like ppl would use them as the main component in a dish or just eat them by themselves

So does all of it get digested? No leftovers (waste) comes out the other end im guessing? is it like a magic type thing?? it has to be right? Cause if not...ur body will take the calories needed to replace the ones burnt, take the nutrients, and the rest will just get tossed out

And since it doesnt make you full, like wouldnt it be way too easy to overeat this type of thing? so you could accidentally end up making urself go to the restroom more often :/

Ig if it gives u the nutrients u need that itll be useful then. So maybe its a 'heres ur macros for the day' type dealo? but u still have to go eat an actual meal or make sure u mix it with other stuff tho

[puke-ur-gutz]

i ♡ going into verbose over-explaining mode in fear of being misinterpreted and then being misinterpreted anyways

[crossbackpoke-check]

i saw the d3 acha coho tiktok and saw your tag about how to spell s(h)(e)(a)(w)n and as I watched it with the roster pulled up next to the video so I could figure things out I HAD to come tell you that it was spelled 'shjon' because LOL. but then I saw your other post and saw that you not only already figured it out but you had a DIFFERENT tag about the 8-3 game last night. i know what game you're talking about; i listened on the radio. i've been sad ever since and it would make me feel better to tell you that you're not special - everyone takes advantage of our terrible powerplay and yet we REFUSE to stop drop passing. sorry you definitely didn't expect a salty shiny helmet fan in your inbox just please be gentle with us tonight. Christmas isn't for another month - stop lighting up our goalie :( although huge congrats on winning the tournament last year i was cheering for you so hard to defeat the Evil and you did :)

​feeling shrimp emotions right now as i try to convey the whiplash this ask gave me… first of all 🥺🥰😭 that you were gonna come tell me how to spell shjon and then 🫵 SAME GAME???

but GOD the experience of “listen i know—shhhhh shhh shhh shhh i haven’t even started yet—i KNOW it looks cool when you do a no-look behind the back pass. it does! when it works. you know what we look like when it doesn’t work? fuckin’ STUPID!!!!” is universal. me 🤝 you 🤝 yelling at our hockey team to stop doing stupid drop passes!!!!

(p.s. wish: granted! most of it was the fact that your baby goalie did better than [redactedx2] and that’s all the shop i will talk here for purposes of not doxxing either of us lmaooo)

[candlebel]

I cared. I still do. I still think of you and I still cry over you. You were importat to me. You still are.