#manna fic

[kinnenvy]

Hi! I’m just coming by to say I recently came across your qaf fics and I read them all while I was on a 30 minute work break. And holy shit I kind of hated myself for how quickly I read them because each one of them was amazing and I wish I would’ve saved them to slowly read through them and enjoy them. My heart absolutely melted and broke at Forward. Gosh that was probably my favorite one, it was so amazingly written and it was just everything! From angst to happy to smiling like an idiot to wanting to grab them both and shake them. And then Fifty took me for a spin of emotions! I mean Brian turning 50 alone makes me want to sob. But then it was cute and angsty even and then they talked! Fucking finally! And then the plot twist! obsessed!!!!! And Framing Ben….i mean, need I say more except DAMN. Needles to say, my lunch break was time well spent :)

😳😳😳😳!!!!!!!!!

this is so crazy anon thank you so much!!!!! thank you for reading them, i'm glad to know that you enjoyed them! and thank you for taking the time to send me this message!!!!! i will treasure it forever🥰🧡

[twola]

Chasing Waterfalls

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader  Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link ➵ Next

Welp - this is an interesting one. A half-cooked challenge where some fic writers are inebriated? Perhaps.

To my dear @reddeaddufus - I feel slightly silly dedicating a piss kink ficlet to you, but actually this makes a ton of sense for us :D

cw: watersports, piss kink

“Can we stop up here?” You whine, pulling on Arthur’s jacket from your place on his mare’s rump. You’ve been riding for hours- your back is sore and bladder full, and it’s still another two or so hours before you reach camp. The moon has risen over the pines, shrouding the forest

Arthur looks back at you with an amused smirk. “You sick of ridin’ there, Princess?”

“We’ve been riding for hours, Arthur. I need to stop.”

“Fiiiine.” He complains but urges the mare off the road and a little further back into the woods.

Arthur swings down from the saddle and reaches up to take you by the waist, lifting you from the horse’s rump with ease, setting you down as if you were as light as a feather.

“Y’know, Princess, we’re gonna be back in a tent tryin’ to be quiet again in a few hours.” His hands move from your waist down, down to cup your rear through your skirts, squeezing gently.

“Mm.” You agree, winding your arms up around his shoulders - he did have a point. A knowing smile graces your features.

Your cowboy takes one hand, tilts the rim of his hat up, and leans back down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. His large frame pushes you backward a couple of steps until your back presses against the trunk of a large pine. 

The clicking of metal rings out in the forest as Arthur wrenches his gunbelt open and it clatters to the ground. The rustling of fabric against fabric, the wet smack of lips meeting echo in the night.

“Pretty little thin’,” he rumbles as he starts to hike up your skirts. You clutch at his shirt as you feel him grope for your bloomers, his greedy fingers catching the fabric and pulling downward as he suckles at the curve of your neck. You moan, loudly, enjoying the ability to do so outside of camp.

The syllables of his name drip from your mouth like manna. You pull one leg up as he works the fabric down your legs, then lift the other to step out of your underthings. He tosses your bloomers to the side and they disappear in the tall grass. You give a slight frown before he devours your lips again, pressing you against that pine tree’s trunk once more. You yelp into his mouth before melting into his embrace, and it’s an instant more before he spins you around to face the tree. He pulls you back half a step so that your arms stretch out to press against the trunk as he once again lifts your skirts.

“Think you’re ready f’r me?” He grunts into your ear as he bends you slightly at the waist.

“Always-” you pant, “I’m always ready for y-”

He presses into you and it’s a punch to your gut. Hard, hot, thick inches of him slide into your cunt and you moan like a goddamn whore.

“Oh yes, you are.” Arthur retorts, you can see his smirk in your mind's eye as he he gracious enough to allow you to grow used to his intrusion.

But not too gracious.

His hands clamp around your hips hard as he thrusts his hips once, twice, three times slowly before moving into a much more punishing rhythm.

It’s not long - it never is, until he’s able to bring you to the edge of orgasm - your cunt full of him and cleaved just enough to find pleasure. You bite your bottom lip as you come, trying to stifle the scream that bubbles up from your lungs.

“Ss-stop-” You stutter as he pounds into you, after your orgasm you feel like your bladder is going to burst. As if his steel-hard cock pistoning into your cunt wasn’t enough pressure in your hips, he shoves one of his hands between your legs, and his thumb parts your folds to find that bundle of nerves of your pleasure.

“Stop-  Arthur, I’m gonna-” You squeal and try to jerk away from him, but with the vicegrip he has on your hips, you’re unable to move.

It’s too much - his cock shoved fully up your cunt, his thumb furiously working at your clit, your knees shaking, it’s too goddamn much-

You try to push his hand away but moving him is like trying to move a brick wall - a brick wall hellbent on you being wrung out and left to dry. A groan escapes your mouth through gritted teeth, nearly pained - “No, stop, m’ gonna - you’re gonna make me piss m’self.” 

“Do it.” He grunts hoarsely, rocking his hips forward ever so slowly, even gently, compared to the assault of his digits on your swollen clit. The hand that was clamped near painfully around the curve of your hip bone starts gathering up your skirts, hamfisting them up above your hips so that your legs are bare as you lean against that tree.

“Wh-what?” You grit out, your eyes crossing as you unconsciously clench on his flesh within you.

“Let go.” Arthur groans, his cock twitching within you as he slides his hand upward slightly, so that his thumb rests above your pubic bone while his ring finger continues lazy circles on your abused nub, pleasure racked and overstimulated.

He presses on your bladder with that strong thumb of his and it’s over. You cry out - half in pain and half in relief as that great pressure is loosed from your pelvis. Hot liquid pours from you, forcefully against the ground and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly against the sensation - heightened by the inches of flesh crammed up your channel. 

Arthur slides his hand down to let the stream run through his fingers before pooling on the dirt between your feet.

“Good girl,” he murmurs into your ear as tears collect under your eyes, and you couldn’t stop if you tried. His hips pulse forward jerkily once, twice, and he moans far louder than he ever has with you in the past, his dick splattering his spend into your cunt as your bladder empties first through his hand then pooling on the ground.

“I- I need -” Arthur pulls out quickly, and stumbles forward half a step. You feel his pubic hair against your rear, one of his hands wrapped around his softening cock, “M’ gonna- don’t be mad -” He rambles, and suddenly you feel warm moisture on the back of your thigh, trailing down your leg over your boot. He groans in satisfaction as you gasp breathily, eyes widening as rivulets of hot piss course down your leg. You tighten your grip on the tree to stay upright, your blunt nails digging into the bark until Arthur makes a choked-off gasp and the liquid peters off.

“I- uh,” Arthur pants as he straightens up.

“You…like that?” You glance over your shoulder as he steps away from you.

Arthur is sheepishly tucking his cock back into his pants, cheeks blazing red and his gaze unwilling and unable to find yours, “I…,” he buttons his pants with fervor, turning his head away to make himself even further from you, “I understand if you don’t wanna do this no more cause of-“

You spin around and grab at his fiddling hand once he’s finished buttoning his pants.

“I mean… I’m okay with it, as long as we wash up afterward.” You say, shaking your boot slightly, drops of moisture falling to the ground as you step away from the veritable puddle that was between your legs.

“Seriously?” Arthur finally looks up, skepticism plain on his face.

Half a smile comes across your face as you drop your skirts with your other hand, “Let's head on down to the river to clean up. I don’t want to feel sticky.”

Arthur’s frown remains, but he lets you pull him toward the forest toward the nearby river, he leans over after a few steps to grab his discarded gunbelt, throwing it over his shoulder.

Once the two of you reach the bubbling waters of the mountain stream, you let go of his hand.

“Think we could probably take a bath.” You start playing with the laces of your skirts.

Arthur looks around in either direction, knowing that the road’s river crossing is rather close to where the two of you stand.

“Yer not worried about gettin’ caught naked as the day you were born?”

“I mean… worried ain’t the word that I would use to describe it.” Your skirts drop to the ground, your skin completely bare in the moonlight below your waist.

Arthur’s lips crook up into a smile as he starts to unbutton his shirt.

[unhealthyfanobsession]

You Lost Me, So You Lost Manna

“Maybe,” she whispered, still feeling stupid. Careful, she was trying to be so so careful and he didn’t even seem to notice there was any risk. “Like fire and water.”

“Which one am I?” Cassian asked, bumping his nose against hers.

“Water,” Nesta said quietly, certainly.

“Alright,” he shrugged. “So let’s go buy some matches.” She laughed once, sharp and sardonic. “I’m serious,” Cassian assured her. “Light me up baby, because I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

It was the very first time he used those words as an answer and a weapon all in one. An explanation. It didn’t make any sense, his metaphor. You couldn’t light water on fire no matter how hard you tried. It would be years before Nesta reflected on just how quickly the answer came to mind when he asked who was who - how she knew from the start he would douse her flames.

But it didn’t matter if nothing made sense. The answer was simple and resolute. All her caution snapped, her tightrope came loose and Nesta was falling.

Falling, falling, falling.

*Song Fic for Savannah by Jensen McRae*

[mannatea]

Just a head's up:

I still have a couple of prompts in my inbox that didn't get filled; I'm going to save those and fill them at a later date, so my apologies if you're one of the people who were skipped (I filled them in the order I received them in, actually).

Say It's Possible's update this week won't happen. I only have a few thousand words written for chapter 7 and there's no way I'll have it done by Thursday after I spent all weekend clowning around writing (mostly long) one-shots.

We're probably looking at 12 or 13 chapters now total anyway; I'll have a more accurate number when I do a more detailed outline (after I'm done writing ch7). Somewhere between 100k and 150k estimated right now, but certainly no longer than that.

Thanks to the evil and nefarious @trash-god, Where You Lead is going to be the official prologue to Say It's Possible. Welcome to the Manna Fic Universe I guess. 😂

Due to this, I decided to go back to the start of Say It's Possible and start editing to tie these two stories in better. I'm taking today and tomorrow to do that, which obviously means I'm not writing more. (I'm doing this in google docs so I can edit on the clock (😏) so don't worry, Ao3 isn't affected yet.)

I'll post a "changelog" after I update Ao3 with the newer version of the story so that no one has to dig through the entire thing or reread it to see what changes were made. I'm hoping to do this tomorrow evening.

Most changes are pretty minor, though. I don't plan to add any new scenes at this time.

While I'm at it, I'm doing a pretty big editing job in general: fixing typos and poorly-structured sentences, missing words, commas that shouldn't be there, and repetition where it shouldn't be. Hopefully this makes the fic a better reading experience overall.

Thank you again to everyone who has been reading and commenting and enjoying it along with me. It's been a pleasure to write for you so far. I'll get back on track after this.

[softcuddledrone]

LISTEN—

(Nothing bad just meta talk under the cut—)

So SOFTIE confesses a significant inspiration for its little setting was a specific chapter from a specific fic caused irreparable changes to SOFTIE’s brain chemistry

Manna could easily have been an Affini instead of a Synth, and just as easily it could have been a J-Pet cafe instead of a drone cafe

…But SOFTIE was worried that it couldn’t do the setting proper justice with its specific and kind of complicated relationship with kink

So there are a bunch of overlapping concepts that aren’t entirely coincidental, IYKYK, but its tried to make something at least partially it’s own with it, haha

[thesandsofelsweyr]

BOY TOY

《 CHAPTER 1/2 // READ ON AO3 》

While the Bird's away, the Clown will play.

《RATING》 🔞 Explicit 《WORDS》 1,094

《PAIRING》 Joker x Jason Todd/Robin

《TROPES》 Hurt No Comfort, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

《WARNINGS》 Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Ownership, Implied/Referenced Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Genital Torture, Caning, Blood and Injury, Scars, Underage, Non-Con

《TAGLIST》 @aaliyah-wayne @ladytauria @betty-1880 @deans-spinster-witch @hlg8 @plantixst

Written for @dcdarkweek 2024

Day 2: Consent Issues: Somnophilia, Forced Orgasm (Ch. 2)

Day 3: Interpersonal Dynamics: Underage

Day 5: Power & Control: Ownership

Day 6: Graphic Violence: Stress Positions, Genital Torture, Caning

《NOTES》

This is a DARK FIC so please be aware of the tags!

There will be smut in Chapter 2. It will be my first attempt at writing M/M

If you enjoy the read please kudos, comment, and reblog 💛

《 READ ON AO3 》 (excerpt below the cut)

Exquisite. 

The sight before him inspires many words, but exquisite is the one Joker likes best. He sighs a contented sigh as his eyes crawl up and down the unconscious figure before him, from matted black hair to bruised and broken toes. His latest pair of Batman imposters had left the naked kid dangling by his bony wrists after their playtime was over, and Joker can’t help but think of this mutilated slab of boymeat as an offering, a sacrifice to him. Batsy’s little lambchop led like a sheep to the slaughter, and he’d been waiting, bib tied ‘round his neck, knife and fork in each hand at the ready. A slavering wolf cartoon about to devour his long-awaited feast.

Joker slips off his lavender gloves, finger by finger by bleached-white finger, while he stalks toward his ensnared prey. Toddy’s head hangs dejectedly between dislocated shoulders. Swollen eyelids swim in pits of purply-black bruises and hide behind a veil of stringy hair. His cherub face is puffy, streaked where tears cut tracks through the caked filth. Protruding ribs rise and fall as his lungs gasp for air, each coveted breath sucked in with an adorable wheeze. His toes are curled like a proper ballerina, desperately reaching for the merciful floor below. Fresh blood dribbles down his skinny arms from where the metal cuffs bite into that paper-thin skin.

Joker’s ravenous grin splits wider as his mind drifts back to his little bird’s last playtime. After the bogus Bats had beaten him silly, they’d stripped the jailbird of his orange jumpsuit and cut away his briefs before stringing him up for a flogging. That big brainless brute Blockbuster turned out to be an expert at wielding a bamboo cane, leaving the kid’s backside striped bloody, from the nape of his scrawny neck to the hollows of his knobby knees. Oh how his bird had begged while his skin was shredded to ribbons all over again! But that wasn’t the best part of the performance, no sirree. Before leaving the kid to his tears and fears, Catman had squeezed the baby birdie’s bruised balls in a gauntleted fist until he’d passed out from the pain.

And here they are now: his darling boy still sleeping unsoundly, brain still scrambled from the good Doctor Quinzel’s overdose of hallucinogens. Joker stops short before this tapestry of torture. Resisting the urge to trace the puckered ‘J’ forever seared into his boy’s delicate cheek, he instead takes a moment to admire the full expanse of his handiwork. When the Boy Blunder had fallen into his lap like manna from heaven, he’d been built in the Bat’s own image: a well-muscled adonis with a roleplaying fetish. But after months of depravity those bulging muscles had all but withered away. Now only pallid skin remains, hanging loosely from broken bones. Deeeee-licious!

Read the rest on AO3→

[lostdrarryfics]

Hi helpful folks. I’m looking for a shortish fic I read on AO3. It’s drarry. Harry comes into a corporate office run by Draco. His secretary is based on the competent secretary in Manna Francis’s The Administration series. The company makes some kind of sentient dreams - like pensieve memories that you can be anyone in. There is smut. Thanks for trying to figure it out!!

We believe you are looking for Dreams Made Real by oceaxe (4k, E)

Don’t forget to bookmark, leave kudos and comments!

[theseshipsshallsail]

Summary:

Did he know then, that Elio was already offering him a way out? Permission, almost, to preserve their perfect summer romance in amber. To pack his memories up in a neat little box until such times as he could look back and smile?

Shameless reblog because I've just had a lovely comment on this little series, and despite often forgetting that it exists, these fics are actually some of my favourites...

ETHEREAL

When he dreams he can hear the roar of the ocean. Smell the salt-tang of the waves that swirl between his bare toes. Feel the coarse sand whip at his reddened skin as the wind ruffles his hair. 

When he dreams, he can see him.

Elio.

His true self.

His sunlight in the shadows.

When he dreams, when he says I’ve been happy in B, he finishes his sentence the way he’d originally intended. 

I’ve been happy with you.

Did he know then, that Elio was already offering him a way out? Permission, almost, to preserve their perfect summer romance in amber. To pack his memories up in a neat little box until such times as he could look back and smile? 

Did Elio know himself it was an impossible task? 

That like Sisyphus, his upward struggle would be incessant?

So many wasted days. 

So many weeks, months, years spent grieving that which he’d deemed impossible.

You’ll be fine, he’d said in the moment, but when he dreams, it’s Elio who asks if he’ll be okay, and Oliver, knowing the truth deep down to his soul, who reaches out and cups his cheek, rests it there, unable to lie.

“I love you,” he says instead, thumb tracing light patterns over Elio’s evening stubble as trembling fingers rise up to capture his wrist.

His pulse races in his ears, Elio’s eyes a solemn promise when he parts his lips to speak. “I loved you, too," he says at length - always the past tense - and in doing so confirms the gentlest of nightmares are actually the cruellest.

“Elio,” he chokes out, threading his hand into those windswept curls to draw him closer, his other arm banding around his waist, hauling him into his lap. Three years may as well be yesterday in this maelstrom of emotion, and Oliver’s words fall woefully short of what he truly feels. What he’s always felt. Always will. “My Elio…”

Already, he can sense the illusion slipping away. Hear the sobs Elio doesn’t want him to see. Smell the train carriage as it waits to depart the station. Feel the lurch of turbulence as his heart breaks all over again.

But when he dreams, when his lips find Elio’s like a bee to nectar, the sweetness of his kiss freezes all other considerations on the landscape of his mind. A perfect Monet, he thinks, as Elio sighs the same plaintive sound he makes upon first stretching awake, opening his mouth to his. Soft and wet. His own personal manna in this self-imposed exodus. 

It’s not enough though - not nearly enough - and Oliver hugs him tighter until he can hear the gulls circling overhead. Feel the sun-warmed rock beneath the soles of his feet. Smell the peaches on Elio’s breath. Kisses him like a man starved until reality crashes back, squeezing his eyes shut until the very last second before whispering his own name between them.

Elio doesn’t get the chance to respond - he never does - and the bitter sting of tears stays with him long after the six o’clock alarm call.

[gingerlee-holds]

On the Featherflake

This was at the suggestion of Hypah (Ms. SS2023 herself!). It was originally meant to be a simple info page, but I ended up inserting a tiny fic (?) about this character I made up named Eren Fernsby. I was imagining this eccentric little Victorian British twink, wearing little spectacles and messy black hair - I'm sure you can imagine the character in your head, you're a clever little cutie, I believe in you. I hope you enjoy the fic! Let me know if you'd like to see anymore from the character ("The Fernsby Journals" has a nice ring to it). I'm also in a rush because I have a lot of schoolwork, so that too.

Word Count: 711 Reading Time: ~5 minutes Warnings: Un-proofread fic lmao- not the usual level of "quality"- also a lot of feathers

The featherflake is a rare phenomenon, only witnessed by a lucky (or unlucky) few. 

The flake itself is nothing impressive. It's a small, white flake, resembling a snowflake from afar. However, upon further inspection, an observant passerby will notice key differences.

The most noticeable attribute of the featherflake is its size, ranging from 12 millimeters to 25 millimeters in diameter. Furthermore, their structure allows the flake to cluster, interlocking to form large piles.

If one were to look closer at such a pile of featherflakes, one would instantly notice this structure. Instead of a crystalline water-based design, it appears light and fluffy, similar to a goose feather. Indeed, the average featherflake has about eight "feather" structures connected in the middle to form a flake. This is another key difference: eight points instead of a snowflake's six.

The observer may even step a little closer, hesitantly picking a small cluster of featherflakes up to inspect them closer. The feeling of the feathers may tickle an exposed palm slightly, but for someone wearing mittens on a cold winter's day, one typically pays no mind. They aren't cold like snow is. For all the observer may know, feathers have fallen randomly out of the sky. 

Despite how uncommon this is, a featherflake event has happened throughout history, and many a prudent meteorologist has documented the event well. For instance, in 1744, then-amateur natural philosopher Eren Fernsby recorded the following in his journal on a particularly blustery November evening:

"How remarkable this all is! An act of God indeed, though instead of manna, He has brought feathers! For what end, I know not - this weather seemingly defies explanation. At 6:42, right when the sun had peaked from behind the hills, I was lying in bed, and I must confess, I did not wish to rise. The wind had been pressing at my windows so violently in the night that I had shuttered them tightly. However, when the sunlight began permeating my little room, I saw with surprise that my windows had been flung open! Grumbling with chagrin, I rolled over and held the covers over my head, cursing the sun for its horrible punctuality.

It may have been another hour when I awoke with a gasp. I felt something soft against my stomach, and upon observation, I saw it was a snowflake... made of feathers! Imagine my surprise when I looked around my room and saw the place teeming with them, covering every imaginable surface! Oh, what a chore to clean - or at least, that is what I would have thought were I not enraptured by the sight. I stepped out of bed, yet I severely miscalculated my bedsheet's location and fell onto the floor with an indignant yelp. Instead of an annoyed mutter, I let out a soft giggle. How very strange it felt! The troublesome little feathers had found their way into my bedrobe. And it felt extraordinarily tickly sensitive.

As I rolled about on my floor, attempting to untangle my ankles from the bedsheet, I only managed to agitate the flakes' positions, causing them to fly everywhere in my clothes in a flurry. I would not count myself as a particularly ticklish sensitive individual, but I must admit I cackled hysterically chuckled lightly at the feeling. The feathers swirled about in my robe, wiggling over my stomach, sides, thighs, and chest. I squealed and squealed. No matter how many times I squirmed, they continued their onslaught. It took half an hour to get rid of them! I was breathless, wheezing, blushing, and immediately began this journal entry. 

What possible cause could be engendering such a strange occurrence! I think I loved it It was very odd. I look forward to seeing this event again, if it ever does repeat, purely for research purposes.

Upon rereading this journal a year later, I have decided to add a post-script. At various points in this entry, I have broken decorum. If I ever choose to publish this journal, I must adequately expunge any and all unprofessionalism. I have an image to maintain, after all."

Mr. Fernsby (and later, Sir Fernsby) did indeed record other entries about other featherflake blizzards and other phenomena, garnering him wide acclaim. He always seemed to scribble out some parts of his journals, though.

Read the following entry in The Fernsby Journals!

[dagger-n-ravvi]

Chapter Two: Ever-So-Patient

Jade and Floyd satiate their food cravings. Azul finds their method of doing so to be rather alarming.

Warnings: The graphic eating of raw eggs, public blowjobs, 69ing, mildly dubious content (on Azul’s part)

Previous | Next Chapter | Fic Index

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46007587?view_full_work=true

The brothers make their way out of the lounge, and into the kitchen. Floyd grabs all the eggs he can find out of the fridge and stacks them grumpily on the table. Jade watches distantly as he flicks open the first carton and swallows an egg in one gulp, shell and all.

“Ahhhhh…” he sighs, expression smoothing into relief as he takes another. Jade sits down beside him, plucking an egg out of the carton for himself. He hesitates for just a moment as something in the back of his mind suggests that he should…cook this first. Be civilized…

He swallows the egg as Floyd did. He has no gag reflex in his eel form, and only a very slight one as a human, so it goes down easily. The smooth shell feels unbelievably satisfying as it rolls down, easing the emptiness in his middle with blissful, nourishing weight. Eagerly, he takes another. 

"We're...we’re not off…are we?" he asks, feeling lightheaded as takes a third. The crunch is soooooooo satisfying. And then the yolk sliding down…wonderful. Like manna from heaven…

"Hmmm?" Floyd crunches through the shell of his next egg before swallowing. His throat swells briefly, and a dribble of raw yolk leaks from the corner of his mouth. "I dunno. I feel weird, but not sick like Azul said. Not enough to see the nurse, prolly."

"I don’t know. He might be right," Jade admits, swallowing a fourth egg. “These are so good…why do we ever bother cooking them…” He looks over to Floyd, suddenly overcome by an urge to lean on him. So he does. He rests his head on Floyd’s shoulder, sliding over in his chair until he nearly falls out of it. Floyd grumbles irritably, but doesn’t shove him away like before. 

“You are so weird…”

“But you love me anyway~” Jade sings, taking in Floyd’s comforting scent. “You know… I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning.” The admission makes his cozy new pillow pause in surprise before eating the next egg.

"You? Stay in bed? HA. Maybe you ARE getting sick." Floyd licks the yolk off of his chin before grabbing another. Jade whines at him, and Floyd hesitates with the egg halfway to his mouth.

“You have arms. Get your own.” 

Jade whines again, clinging to Floyd’s arm with both hands and pleadingly opening his mouth. Floyd breath catches in his throat at the unfairly adorable display. His hand trembles slightly, and then he rolls his eyes, then pops the egg into Jade’s waiting mouth. He swallows it with a dull crunch, and a sing-song hum of satisfaction.

“Thank you, big brother. May I have another?”

“No. This one is mine.” Floyd pouts, shoving it into his mouth before Jade can use cuteness to beg him out of it again.

“How cruel… How could you be so cruel to your only living brother?”

“You want another? Give me space in your room for my clothes.” Floyd grins, seeing a chance to expand on his territory.

“Absolutely not.”

“Wha!? Why not?”

“My space is my space. Not Floyd’s,” Jade says primly.

“Then I ain’t feeding you!” Floyd shoves another egg into his mouth. He refuses to look at his twin’s big, begging eyes…

He glances down for just a moment and sees Jade pouting at him and nuzzling forlornly against his arm. “Stop it…”

“Nnnnn…” More pouting and faint, pitiful whining.

“No.”

Little snuggles continue. More whining, more pouting. 

“... Okay one more.”

Azul stares at them from the doorway, mouth open in silent shock as he watches them eat. A full three dozen raw eggs. They might have eaten more, but that is literally all they had in the fridge. Something is VERY wrong with both of them, and all he can do is pray it isn’t contagious before he has to buy up the island’s entire egg supply.

Floyd finally pushes Jade away and he wanders off with a disappointed grumble, but Azul manages to cut Floyd off before he can disappear too. Jade might have escaped, but Floyd won’t! 

“Nurse. NOW,” he insists, pointing to the gooey and shell-flecked remnants of his and Jade’s ‘dinner.’ “I’ll walk you there, come on.” 

“Noooo!” Floyd gripes, finding himself getting dragged unhappily into the hallway. “I’m tired! And my feet hurt. And my back. Wanna lay down…” He rubs his eyes. Azul notices that they’re bloodshot, and have dark circles underneath them. Is he not getting enough sleep?

“Floyd, I can’t have an epidemic spreading through my dorm on finals week,” Azul sighs, dragging Floyd into the campus hallway. “I need you to behave for me. What do you want in return for a few moments of your patience?”

Floyd freezes when Azul asks what he’d have to do for him to behave. “Suck me off,” he says bluntly, without any hesitation at all. Azul flinches, looking around to see if anyone heard that, but thank Seven, the hallways are empty. Their fellow students must all either be outside enjoying the sunset, or cooped up in their rooms cramming for the upcoming exams.

“Suck you off? SERIOUSLY?”

“Yeah.” Floyd plants his feet right outside the nurse’s office and crosses his arms refusing to move. Azul groans, noticing distantly that even though Floyd isn’t out of breath, he’s sweating enough to make big, dark blotches on his shirt. Fever maybe? 

“All right. Yes, but only AFTER we’re done here. Deal?” If Floyd is sick, then getting up close and personal with him will all but guarantee that Azul will catch it too, but so be it. He’s not exactly in a position to refuse. 

“No. Right here.” Floyd follows him into the empty infirmary. “C’mon Azul~” 

Azul freezes as Floyd comes up behind him and inhales deeply, nuzzling his nose into his hair. “Azulllllllll, you smell so good…” His hands creep underneath his shirt to palm his chest. Azul flinches, panicking lightly. Shit. What is the only thing that might be worse than an epidemic spreading through Octivanelle? The wrong person walking into this VERY PUBLIC space and catching him halfway through a blowjob. But if he turns Floyd down now, he’ll likely just head back to the dorm…

“You smell good too,” Azul purrs, eyeing the nurse’s office. It’s not a lie. Jade and Floyd both have a faint, brine-and-ocean-air smell that he assumes is unique to transformed eelmers. There’s a sweet, oddly enticing topnote on the scent now. It’s pleasant, like perfume with a touch of musk in it. “Come here then, if that’s really all you want.”

He pulls Floyd toward the office, hoping he can get him inside and lock the door before he gets it into his head to start taking off his clothes out here…

Floyd purrs in his chest and happily follows along. His pants are tight… soooo tight… he fumbles at his belt and shoes, kicking off one outside the office door, and the other inside.

“Isn’t it fun? The idea of getting caught…” Floyd whispers as Azul pushes him onto the exam bed.

“NO.” Azul locks, then double-locks the door with magic.

“Awww… I wanna see who would be ballsy enough to try and blackmail us~” Floyd deliciously runs both hands down his stomach, then slips his fingers into the waistband of his pants and pushes them down. The bulge of his hardening shaft shows perkily through the fabric of his octopus patterned boxers and he smiles giddily. That would be incredible… Azul’s mouth stuffed full, panicking as someone walks in~ Azul wouldn’t be able to say anything because obviously there would be a dick in his mouth, but Floyd would make sure that the fucker walks away from interrupting them with TWO broken legs…

“I have no desire to get caught by a stranger while in coitus EVER,” Azul shudders. He rapidly walks past Floyd and opens a drawer, flicking through thermometers, tongue depressors…ah. He finds a handheld biomagic medical scanner and turns it over in his hands…then swears under his breath. He has no idea how to use it.

“Booo…boring, but I get it.” Floyd sighs, idly kicking his legs and clinging wistfully to the fantasy. Azul should trust that Floyd will keep him safe~

“Not boring, practical.” Azul goes back into the drawer and finds the user manual, resisting the urge to groan when he sees that it’s literally an inch thick. The school nurse should really be here to do this. Is that man EVER at his post?!

“Azulllll….” Floyd growls softly. “If you aren’t gonna to play, then I’m gonna leave…”

“Ok, ok…” Azul tucks the scanner into his back pocket and walks back over to him. “Don’t be so impatient.”

Azul leans forward and presses a deep kiss between Floyd’s teeth, lightly running his fingers through his hair. At the same time, he lifts the manual behind Floyd’s back and opens it one-handed, flicking through pages with his thumb and looking frantically for operating instructions. If he can slip out of here without going further than kissing and heavy petting, he very much will. Floyd hadn’t taken his earlier deal, after all… 

Floyd sighs into the kiss, relaxing for just a moment before vigorously kissing back. His arms entwine around Azul’s body, greedily squeezing his ass and thighs. He breaks the kiss just a moment later with a tight, needy gasp. “Feel that…?” He grinds his pelvis into Azul’s with a low moan. “It’s waiting for you~“

Oh, Azul does feel that. He can’t NOT feel it, but Azul is no stranger to splitting his concentration between half a dozen tasks. He lightly traces Floyd’s lower lip with his tongue before capturing his mouth in another kiss and crawling onto his lap to grind against him, flicking through pages all the while. Is literally half of this wretched manual just the warranty agreement?! He would normally be impressed, but at the moment he just needs to know what buttons turn the damn thing on!

A little grumpily, Floyd pulls back from the kiss, and traces Azul’s swollen lower lip with his thumbs. “Whatcha doing?”

Azul gently takes one of Floyd’s thumbs into his mouth, suggestively folding his tongue around it in a slow, sinuous lick. Floyd’s breath stops, and a warm shiver rolls through the pit of his stomach as sucking pressure rolls over his skin. So warm, so soft... ‘oooohhhhooo… you absolute slut…’

Azul’s eyes flick away from the manual for just a moment to stare up into Floyd’s as he pops the now-wet thumb out of his mouth. “I’m getting ready,” he murmurs and tries to lean forward for another kiss. Floyd accepts this… for a second. And then he impatiently flips Azul over and pins him to the exam bed. Azul makes a surprised squeak, flailing and then gasping as kisses and feral nips are pressed to the underside of his jaw.

“Liar… you’re reading a stupid book.” Floyd chuckles in his ear.

“W-whhhh, F-Floyd?!” The manual is whipped out of his fingers before he can even think to hold onto it. Floyd tosses it over his shoulder, where it hits the far wall, and falls out of sight behind the desk.

“You are sick and I wa- HHH!” He arches as Floyd paws open his belt and all but tears open his pants. “I’m trying to find out why!”

“No more finding out,” Floyd drags Azul’s pants down his legs, leaving them bunched up around his ankles. “No more ‘why’.” He nips at Azul’s bare thigh, hard enough to break the skin and teach him manners for being distracted during sex.

“AGH! MUST YOU?!” Azul yelps, and Floyd soothes the bite, gently lapping up a few drops of coppery blood. He licks higher, creeping closer to Azul’s crotch before a wad of inconvenient underwear fabric gets in his way. Slowly he blinks, tracing the outline of Azul’s body underneath his tight fitting boxers in a somewhat dazed state.

‘Smells good… why does he smell so good?’ He barely has the presence of mind to pull Azul’s underwear down instead of tearing it off. Painting softly, he leans down and gives his cock a long, ardent lick. 

“If I…if I do you…” Floyd gives Azul’s cock a sloppy kiss, then probes teasingly at the slit with his tongue, “then you… do me…”

“Whh-HNGHHH!” Azul arches, fumbling weakly at Floyd’s head as he digs right in without a word of warning. Oh, oh, OH- His bared backside and thighs feel blisteringly vulnerable and chilled. He presses a hand over his mouth and glances desperately at the door. It would just be PERFECT if that worthless nurse decided to come back and do his job right as THIS is happening. At least he’ll have to unlock the door first, so that might give him some time to react...

In spite of his anxiety, or perhaps even because of it, his body is cheerfully responding to the attention. It’s been a few days since he had time to do anything sexual at all, and his skin feels traitorously needy. The resulting conflict leaves him lying frozen under Floyd’s enticingly-scented body, cock hardening and breath coming in short, shaky gasps. 

Floyd flicks his tongue against the head of his cock, then suckles it generously, savoring the flash of salt as precum beads at the tip. He hums in pleasure as it hardens, and lifts his mischievous, mismatched eyes to glance back at Azul’s face…and then rolls his eyes with an irritated sigh. He’s staring at the stupid door again instead of enjoying himself…

“Oi… you don’t wanna attract attention right? I got an idea, but you gotta lay the back of your head here.” Floyd reaches forward and taps the center of the pillow at the head of the exam bed. Azul swallows hard. Will it be faster to wrestle himself out from under Floyd than to just let this happen? Likely not, and even then, he doubts he’ll be able to get an angry, horny Floyd to hold still for a medical scan that he still has no idea how to perform. So in the interest of getting through this quickly, Azul does as directed, moving his head to the indicated spot. 

“I thought you wanted me to suck YOU off,” he protests weakly. “Did you change your mind?” 

Floyd kicks off his boxers, then flips around to straddle Azul’s head with his knees, letting his large, and fully erect cock cheerfully smack him in the face.

“Nah… I just thought if your mouth was occupied, you wouldn't be screaming so much.” Floyd snickers, crouching forward over Azul’s legs and giving his cock a fond lick to let it know he hasn’t forgotten about it. “And now you can’t see the door, so you won’t keep getting distracted by iiiiit~”

Dear god, this has really gotten out of hand. Blushing furiously, Azul takes the offered dick into his mouth and rolls his tongue over it, tilting his chin up and down to awkwardly move it in and out with the pillow pressing restrictively into the back of his head. Human bodies and dry-land limitations…if they were 69-ing underwater, it would be much less awkward. He has to mostly use his tongue, and he’s getting clumsier…the more Floyd distracts him…with his own mouth… 

Floyd sinks down to try and make Azul take him deeper. “C’mon Azul~ you're getting clumsy… I thought that mouth could do almost anything…” he taunts between licks.

“Hrrrk?!” Azul blushes harder, with a touch of offended pride this time. He wraps his arms around Floyd’s hips and jerks him down, holding his breath and swallowing around him. Floyd gasps mid suck, shuddering with pleasure. Hoping to surprise him into a fast orgasm, Azul thoroughly suckles Floyd’s shaft and rolls the back of his tongue beneath the head of his cock, before he literally bench-presses Floyd’s hips upward and draws him back out of his mouth with a dark chuckle. 

“Ah! Azul!” Floyd gasps, squirming as cold air curls over his dick. 

“You’re trying to get more out of me than we bargained for. You’d better be INFINITELY patient for me after this…”

“Ehe… what deal? I didn’t shake on-HHHHHH!“ Floyd gasps as Azul swallows deeply enough that his tongue peeks between his teeth and his nose brushes lightly against Floyd’s pubic mound. ‘His mouth can do almost anything.’ The nerve… 

‘Fuck Azul! Soo good! So good!’ Floyd moans. It’s so much but he wants…wants to make Azul come first! He redoubles his efforts, bobbing his head and sucking noisily while laving the shaft and head with his tongue. Azul shudders underneath him, choking lightly. Despite Azul’s initial bit of skill, it’s not much of a contest to see who can get who off first. In all things, Azul makes up for his lack of endurance with tricks, planning, preparation and fancy toys. In a spontaneous one-on-one, he has as little chance of holding out against Floyd’s endurance as a snowball does of staying frozen in a lit oven. It’s almost adorably soon when he comes, pushing Floyd out of his own mouth with shaky arms and an overwhelmed gasp. His core muscles flex and he arches up into Floyd’s chest, gripping his hips so tightly that it leaves the imprints of his fingers behind.

“F-fuck-” he whimpers, feeling overwhelmed by scent, sound, and feeling as Floyd noisily drinks up his release like a man dying of thirst. He even swirled his tongue as an added cherry on top!

“Haaahhh… ok… ok, now finish me off.” Floyd sits up and flips around, sitting across Azul’s face and shoulders. He tangles his fingers into Azul’s silvery hair and thrusts back inside. 

“Gugh-!?” Flinching from the overstimulation, and then the RUDE hair pull, Azul narrows his eyes and pushes him away.

“Noooo…You feel so good… c’mon… c’mon!” Floyd urges, desperate to reach climax himself. Azul rolls his eyes, then allows Floyd’s cock back into his mouth, and sneakily casts a spell. Deep, resonant vibrations immediately curl over Floyd’s entire length, rolling through the shaft and over the head as though an invisible vibrator has been pressed inescapably to his skin. 

“FUCK!” Floyd screams as he instinctively thrust down. “Oooooooh… cheater, cheater… fuck, I love it…”

Azul holds him in place, only lightly licking at the intrusion and smugly letting the spell do all the work. He chuckles to himself, feeling victorious…right up until the point where Floyd grinds down, and comes. 

It tastes completely wrong. Heavy, rich, sticky, and A LOT of it. It’s also oddly cold, which seems even stranger given that Floyd is sweating like his skin is on fire. This is all much more like what he’d expect from Floyd’s eel body than from his human one, but that shouldn’t be possible if he’s taking his potions! Azul flails underneath him, trying to push him off and wincing as Floyd’s fingers tangle more firmly into his hair. He has half a mind to bite him for being this rude, especially when the cool liquid overflows his mouth and pours down the sides of his face in a horrible, gooey mess.

‘LET ME GO!’ He chokes as some of it slips down his throat, and wrenches his head out from under Floyd’s body, tearing his hair out and losing his glasses in the process. He rolls off the bed and onto the floor, coughing and gagging. Spit and thick, pearly cum drips from his face and mouth in shimmering, gooey ropes, nearly making him throw up and add his lunch to the awful mess.

“Are. You. HAPPY NOW?” Azul spits, curling his fingers into a fist. The vibration spell kicks up a notch, giving Floyd absolutely no time to rest or catch his breath as Azul wipes his face off and clumsily yanks his pants back on. Where did his glasses go…?

“HAAAAAAHHHHH! Uh…uh huh…nuhhhhhh~” Floyd moans as he collapses onto his stomach and the dizzying smell of sex fills his awareness. He holds himself, hips twitching and vision fuzzy as Azul plucks his glasses out of the puddle beneath his head and wipes them off. So good, so good, so goooooooood~ He shakily grabs the pillow off the exam bed and shoves it between his legs, rutting into it with delirious satisfaction. Thank Seven. Azul can only imagine if Floyd grabbed him again. He… doubt he would maintain the ability to walk given how Floyd was treating the pillow.

Azul irritably straightens his bent glasses, jams them back onto his face, then staggers behind the desk to pick up the user manual. If Floyd doesn’t want to cooperate, then he’ll DISTRACT him long enough to find out why he’s suddenly so insanely horny on top of EVERYTHING else. He flips through the pages, absently maintaining the vibration spell and listening to Floyd’s moans, just in case he works himself up to the point of passing out. He wants him distracted, not dead.

“Finally! Who puts the user interface diagram on page seventy-three?!” He retrieves the scanner from where it fell beneath the bed and switches it on…

[love-bokumono-fics]

Fresh Crops! July 1 - July 7, 2024

This week's newest fics and chapter updates for Harvest Moon and Story of Seasons on AO3!

A Wonderful Life - by Aqueird; WIP, 1/?, 1.4k

Rating: Mature; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandoms: A Wonderful Life, DS Cute Relationships: Cody | Gordy/Chris, Cody | Gordy/ Original Character(s), Pony | Aya | Jill/Rock, Pony | Aya/ | Cody | Gordy, Chris/Wally | Suarii; Characters: Pony | Aya | Jill, Original Characters, Cody | Gordy, Chris, Hugh, Wally | Suarii Additional Tags: Cheating, Implied Sexual Content, Established Relationship Summary: Chris needed a distraction: “Something to cope. Life can hit you unexpectedly, so you either let it lay you down or you hit the ground running. And if you can’t run, you find something to lean on” Gordy eyed her for a long moment without moving from his position on the bed. “So, you’re leaning on me?” He asks more like a statement. Chris fastens her buckle tightly, “I’m walking with you.” Chris and Gordy have a conversation about an upcoming gallery opening.

Her Voice Within - by syavwits; WIP, 11/?, 23k

Rating: Not Rated; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: F/M Fandoms: Back To Nature Relationship: Claire the Farmer/Gray; Characters: Claire the Farmer, Pete the Farmer, Gray, Rick, Kai, Cliff, Doctor | Trent, Mary the Librarian | Marie, Karen, Popuri, Ann the Innkeeper | Ran, Elli | Elly, Manna, Duke, Doug | Dudley, Old Ellen, May | Mei, Stu | Yu, Zack, Won | Huang, Anna, Basil the Writer, Saibara, Harris, Gotz | Gotts, Kano, Louis the Entomologist | Chuu, Greg, Barley | Mugi, Aja | Adge Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Romantic Soulmates, Soul-Searching, Mystery, Mute Protagonist, Found Family Summary: It's not that Claire can't talk, she sometimes speaks yes, but only when she really put all her energies to do it. Then there's Gray, the stoic guy with the famous resting b*tch face, he doesn't want anything to do with anyone, everyone, even the new girl although she's… cute. While Pete tries to save his farm, he also confides in Claire and asks her help to search for his unknown childhood friend, his first love, who apparently is one of the girls in Mineral town?!? Will Claire manage to find Pete's long-lost Best friend? Will Claire find what she truly desires in her second chance at life?

Tumblr Posts for A Wonderful Life Characters - by actaeoncross; WIP, 54/?, 62k

Rating: Not Rated; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi Fandoms: A Wonderful Life Relationship: Multiple Characters x Reader; Characters: Celia | Seperia | Cecilia, Cody | Gordy, Daryl, Flora, Gustafa, Lumina, Marlin | Mash | Matthew, Muffy | Molly, Nami, Rock, Reader Summary: A collection of Tumblr posts for A Wonderful Life Characters x Reader prompts.

Sugar and Spice - by Chibimiie; WIP, 64/?, 173k

Rating: Mature; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandoms: Animal Parade Relationships: Chase/Molly the Farmer, Angela/Luke; Characters: Molly | Hikari, Angela the Farmer, Chase, Luke, Kasey the Farmer Additional Tags: Slow Burn, oh god how do you tag fics, mentions of eating disorders, alternating povs, Friends to Lovers, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, bumped up the rating because i honestly should have a little bit ago, burn so slow it's honestly a simmer, Mutual Pining Summary: Wanting to get away from past hurts of the city, sisters Molly and Angela decide to respond to a flyer advertising an abandoned farm on the faraway island of Castanet. Leaving behind their closest friends and brother Kasey, the two take a chance and move to the tiny island hoping for a new chance at life.

And two Not Safe For Tumblr stories by Thefallen1986, with NSFT Titles.

[shame-is-a-wasted-emotion]

20 questions with author: my edition.

Thank you so much @special-bc-ur-part-of-it for tagging me. And I am tagging (of course I will be happy to read any body's list. So invite yourself and play the game) @rockitmans ,@kirakiwiwrites ,@hkvoyage , @fallevs

1. How many words do you have on ao3?

11. 2 are wip so 9 actually.

2 What is your ao3 word count?

187,023

Well that's surprising!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Glee Klaine for now. Just them. I could write for charlie/nick .

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

5.Do you respond to comments? Why and why not?

Hmm some of mine are hit by kudos . So we'll see.

1. One step closer(86)

2.living haphazard (29)

3.juliets boudoir and Paris of my childhood (23)

4.A cradle is an art(20)

5.Warm milk? Really?(18)

I do every single time. I get comments very rarely so it's like a manna.

6.What fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None. May the one I started writing yesterday. But as of now, none.

7. What fics you wrote with happiest ending?

I am a sucker for hurt/comfort. So almost every fic. Maybe this one:

These are fully husbands fluff.

8. Do you get hate on your fics?

Fortunately nope. I got one which was weird but it's not a hate. The fandom is so sweet.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I've never written one. I wanted to do. I want to do a wedding night fic. And further more .

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've ever written?

None. I know I'm not adventurous. But I am thinking of a klaine(maybe with brittana) and rwrb crossover..

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I can't per se say it was stolen. I hear someone collecting random fics like mine and other amazing authors and posting on their website.(do you remember that @datshitrandom ?)

12. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not aware of. But I would love to. I'll let Google translate my fic and have fun ;)

13.Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Nope. But I would love to.

14.favourite all time ships?

Klaine are my first babies. Alex/Henry are great too.

15. Wip you want to complete but doubt you will?

The first ever fic I wrote One step Closer. I have to clear up all the grammar shit cause I was worse back then.

16. What are your writing strengths?

The flow. If I write, I can write so much. And the picturization. I guess.

17.what are your writing weakness?

Vocabulary and grammar. No way I can save myself. I need a beta mostly.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I love that. Google translate always gives a helping hand. Though I know a little French, English and tamil,I have to use Internet.

19.First fandom you wrote for?

Klaine.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

I've got a lot.

Thank you so much for asking. It was fun

[faithfulsheepdog]

Bread vs. Cake - what are you eating??

I had a conversation with one of my friends on here like a month ago, and something about that conversation made me go hhhmmm.

Here's the snippet in question:

You know it's really interesting that she used this terminology when it came to reading fics, and I've used the same terminology - as I'm sure loads of us have whether it's in relation to a certain fandom or outlet or whatever - because it means we're aching for something to satisfy us.

We're all looking for something to satisfy us whether it's long-term or just in the moment.

But here's the deal though: what are you eating? In terms of the mind and the heart, what are you feeding yourself with?

Please don't jump ahead to a place I'm not going, okay? I'm not about to tell you that consuming media like fics and fandoms and [fill in the blank] is wrong or don't do it or whatever. No, I'm not going there, so please don't hear what I'm not saying. I write fics, I read them, I play video games, I live in my head often, etc. I'm not saying don't consume this kind of stuff. Although it is important to watch what kind of content you're consuming, but that's a whole other discussion.

What I am about to tell you is if you're looking towards those things to be fed, you might be looking in the wrong place. If you're solely eating cake and expecting to get the same benefits as whole wheat and protein, you might be in for a surprise you don't want.

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.'" - Matthew 4:4 NIV

When they found Him on the other side of the lake, they asked Him, “Rabbi, when did you get here?” Jesus answered, “Very truly I tell you, you are looking for Me, not because you saw the signs I performed but because you ate the loaves [from the feeding of the 5,000] and had your fill. Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For on Him God the Father has placed His seal of approval.”  Then they asked Him, “What must we do to do the works God requires?” Jesus answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the One He has sent.”  So they asked Him, “What sign then will you give that we may see it and believe you? What will you do? Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written: ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’"  Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, it is not Moses who has given you the bread from heaven, but it is My Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” “Sir,” they said, “always give us this bread.”  Then Jesus declared, “I am the Bread of Life. Whoever comes to Me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in Me will never be thirsty." - John 6:25-35 NIV, emphasis mine

Jesus wasn't saying don't work for literal food, because He knows we need that. He's not saying don't go buy food. He's saying don't run after things that "taste good" in the moment as your sustenance because that satisfaction won't last long. He's saying we will find our sustenance, our satisfaction, our strength, our endurance, etc. in Him and His word.

That is why studying God and the Bible are so essential to not just navigating your own life but enduring the world with a satisfaction the world can't fulfill or take away!

For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life—is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever. - 1 John 2:16-17 ESV

Not that I was ever in need, for I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little. For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength. -Philippians 4:11-13 NLT

Entertainment media is cake, and it is good. But its satisfaction is fleeting. God and His Word however, well, that's a meal that's satisfying in all circumstances, and its impact is long-term.

So watch what you consume. Learn the difference between cake and bread.

I will definitely continue to partake in entertainment media, because it's good and I enjoy it. I can have my cake and eat it too LOL. Within moderation, of course, but that's a whole other lesson in itself.

But I also know my true, long-lasting satisfaction will come from my relationship with Jesus. So let's get this bread (study the Word) and be satisfied.

[randomfoggytiger]

Is there a fic author whose characterization feels most accurate to the “real” Mulder and Scully to you?

Been mulling over this for a few days.

I didn't want to pick one author over another-- they're all unique in their own ways-- so I picked what authors made an impact on my early fandom reading. Why not? :D

In no particular order:

Apostrophic/@mappingthexfiles: She nails tongue-in-cheek Scully: a particular brand of sarcasm, wit, and lovingly-pointed jabs that blows me away every time. Scully doesn't have a sharp nature; and her quiet strength and contemplative introspection is a quality that, I believe, keeps Mulder always locked in-- all of which Apostrophic details. (If you want fics that focus strictly on dialogue, then Jamie Greco provides Apostrophic's on-point punch with more comedy and less plot. Highly recommend-- I reread Breathing constantly.)

@baronessblixen/Baroness Blixen: Truly awe-inspiring. The turns of Mulder's mind are so singularly spot-on, the details of the world so pivotal to the overall story, and the ebbs and flows of Scully's confidence are just... they never get old. I learn something new each time I reread another fic. I could talk about her work more if I loved it less (isn't that the curse of really loving something deeply?); but to make up for my tongue-tie, I shall admit: it's a regular habit to pull up my favorite fics of hers and just read, read, read before bedtime. I can't get enough; and I never will.

doctorhelena: I've only read Something in Between but, my word, incredible. DH's understanding of Mulder as a flawed human who is barreling past his own traumas while trying to integrate back into his old life is top-tier-- especially considering that this fic is told from Scully's perspective. Not only does DH nail Mulder and Scully (who is absolutely delightful and sympathetic and capable and strong), she throws in Doggett and dive-bombing robins for fun; and each of her additions knit so rightly into the canonical world of The X-Files that I feel robbed every day the show writers didn't think it up to fit between Three Words and Empedocles.

@sigritandtheelves/DarlaBlack: sigrit's work is so visceral that I'm transported to the texture and feel and smell and taste of each microscopic fiber or atom. Her famfics are manna from heaven; her humor gets me every time; her style and taste carve out a niche in The X-Files's confines. Mulder is Mulder; Scully is Scully-- what higher praise could there be?

@slippinmickeys/SlippinMickeys: Oh, boy. Where do I begin? Not only are her AUs multi-chapter, not only are Mulder and Scully post- S9 or IWTB or Revival (or as parents-- my happy place) what I wanted in the later canonical series, and not only are her characters living and breathing people, but slippinmickeys also sucks me into long paragraphs of description, world-building, and tension-weaving without losing me.

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls: I. can't. get. over. GBMK's. fics. How many AUs? How many moving pieces that all tie together like magic? How many one-off stories and plots? How. And Mulder is Mulder! And Scully is Scully! And William is William! Her style glides effortlessly into The X-Files's world-- as "at home" as a native puzzle piece. Ghost can do anything; and she does it so well that it's unfathomable.

@seek-its-opposite/seek_its_opposite: Whewwwwww, good stuff. Recommend you pick a fic, any fic, and start reading. You want a beefy, juicy, one-of-my-favorite-short-pieces-ever? photosensitivity. You want a longer piece about Scully and Doggett and Eddie van Blundht in Mulder's absence? all the old familiar places. You want a fic about Mulder's Season 8 return peppered with amnesia (and this line: "Maybe all Mulder children are fated to forget everything except the fact that they've forgotten. The baby kicks.") memento (vivere). Her work is poetry without clutter and frills: art in motion. Gorgeous because it's thought-provoking.

@touchstoneaf/touchstoneaf: Not only does she worm around in Mulder and Scully's brains for breakfast, but touchstone is single-handedly picking apart Season 9's lazy mytharc while solving each and every poor writing choice that led Mulder and Scully astray. Her Amor Fati: Fated Love series is on-going but well-worth the read; and if you want to skip right to the action, pick up in Part II and speed through to Part III (you'll miss Scully's getaway plans, process, and final goodbyes to her old life, though.) I was reading this while watching a God of War: Ragnarok playthrough, and now both are permanently joined in my mind. Awesome.

@onpaperfirst/onpaperfirst: Hoo, boy. She's got range, she's got style, she's got mature Mulder and Scully in the bag and an angsty epic rewriting of Season 5. Raccoons under the porch; vampire chairs in IKEA; Bond, James Bond and forks-- honestly, what's not to love?

@melforbes/melforbes: This author's an interesting little puzzle to me: ordinarily, Mulder and Scully moving through the world on a lower frequency-- coziness and hearth and home and brain surgeries included-- is a tricky act to pull off. But melforbes strips away all narrative pretenses and gives us a straight, undiluted shot right into her character of choice's vulnerabilities and desire for peace. Her work switches from beautiful to haunting; and it glistens and shines in an ethereal, polished way which IWTB's beautifully shot angles attempted to replicate.

@catarinquar (WBM ): A splash of adrenaline, a dash of danger, and an introspective pause to revel in the solid weight of loss and strength: catarinquar's journeys are packed with wieldy motion. Mulder and Scully are devoted to each other and their cause; and careful to guard their own secret keeping while stepping around the other's anxieties. It's a tantalizing mix that gently shifts with each minuscule realization-- perhaps not always forward progress, but definitely always somewhere.

@lifewithwilliam-blog (WBM): An entry-a-day of William's first two weeks of life. It's so tender and sweet, soothing and loving; and one I read up to Entry 10 before running away and chanting, "Canon ends here! Canon ends here!" Good stuff.

@cultureisdarkbeer/CultureisDarkBeer: A master of long-form fill-ins for Season 5 (and 6): Mulder and Scully; Skinner and Diana; the IVF journey (and its painful failures); and much, much more. The atmosphere here is approachably dark-- a darkness that proves itself atmospherically worthy: not drainingly depressing, but utterly X-Files.

@scenes-in-between/scullywolf: Incredible work on each fill-in ficlet (linked under "scullywolf.") Her fics span the original series-- and even professionally works in Mulder's brain disease via bonus journal entries. Such a good read.

ScullyLikesScience: If I recall, SLS's long-form fill-in fic (He Is the Master of His Fate, She Is the Captain of Her Soul) tackles Mulder and Scully's entire relationship. Not only is her focus on Mulder and Scully's struggle with fate vs. freewill personally rewarding to me, but the chapters focusing on Mulder's return are particularly engaging. Throwing this in here because why not?

Those are off the top of my head. No matter my state of being or circumstances in life, I can crack open any of these authors and be transported to the exact characterization and mood I'll need to get through anything. May wonders never cease~.

[tressknight]

what recs do you have for books on Palestine? taking a long flight soon and building up a list

Here are some non-fic book reccs! If you want fiction books, feel free to ask/dm!

The Hundred Years' War on Palestine by Rashid Khalidi (obvs)

Nakba and Survival: The Story of Palestinians Who Remained in Haifa and the Galilee, 1948-1956 by Adel Manna (open access)

Expulsion of the Palestinians : the concept of "transfer" in Zionist political thought, 1882-1948; Imperial Israel and the Palestinians: the politics of expansion; The Palestine Nakba: decolonising history, narrative the subaltern, reclaiming memory’ by Nur Masalha

The End of the Peace Process; The Question of Palestine; Out of Place: A Memoir by Edward Said

*Note: the semi-colon separates different books by the same author.

I contemplated whether to add non-Palestinian authors, because there are some good books there but in the end, I don't want to detract from the Palestinian perspective which is rarely promoted even in its own struggles. If you've gone through the above and want extra readings, I have a few non-Palestinian book reccs, so feel free to DM me.

[jack-nack]

10th anniversary and still nothing... Not even a peep. It's so sad... All that and we never even got a proper ending. What a waste of potential. I hope Jack's happy, with all his money from loyal fans...

Do me a favor and stick a fork in the nearest electrical outlet. Anyway. Hi. I’ve been getting a lot of these asks for the show’s anniversary, so I thought I’d come out of hibernation for a little to check in on the fanbase. By which, I mean, the twelve of you still writing CeVonn/Brian slash fic well after both characters got murdered- shine on, you magnificent bastards. I hope one day to have a fragment of the dedication you all have to shit that doesn’t matter. To the rest of you- I’ve put together this handy Q&A guide, after which I’m never speaking to you again. Enjoy! Where’ve you been since the finale? Out. The team is not A Coherent Unit anymore, which means we largely had no interest in carrying on our social media presence. You can still find the other folks Around, at social media links I’m not gonna bother with. I know Timothy is doing some spin-off thing. Allison’s scrubbed her online presence, which was the smartest move of any of our little gaggle. Jamir’s gotten really into Horizon shit. And Lakeisha died in a dust collapse a few years back. Sorry if this is how you found out. Why haven’t you made any follow-ups to Station 55? Lot of reasons. I told the story I wanted to tell. And frankly, seeing how awful everyone was being about the end, I didn’t have any real interest in making more content for that particular audience. It’s a horror series, whatever else the fanbase wanted it to be. And just like The Pump Operator said in episode 3- this was never going to be a story with a happy ending. What was in the green barrel? What happened to The Noise Machine? What did the Drill Repairwoman’s song mean? Use your imagination. Were The Deep Tunnels based on a real place? Yes- and filmed there, too. The entirety of Station 55 was produced and recorded in Safety Bunker A93, adjoining the city of Port Conroy. After Dustfall, the whole team were stuck living there while we waited for the surface to be inhabitable again. And there wasn’t a lot else for us to be doing with our time. Can I make a spin-off series? Can I sell Station 55 merch? You can. And you should. The fuckers that own the rights now are content to make Silt Monster Funko Pops every year or two- you can do better. Make a James doll from the vivisection scene with little removable organs- have some fun with it. I found your other social media- why does it say Ethel instead of Jack? Take a wild guess. Take a realllllly wild guess. Really rub your brain cells together, get the old hamster wheel in your skull moving. Are you serious about never talking to the fanbase again after this? Yep. Inexplicably, I still want to see more of your content. Where can I do that? Twitch.tv/ethelnightshade- stream Wednesdays and Sundays. We write, watch movies, and indulge in wildly self-indulgent ARG bullshit. Occasionally, I will Play a Video Game if I really need manna for the electric bill. I found this blog because I saw you were participating in the Grand Brutale, and have no context for any of the above. Sincerely- what the fuck? Sorry.

I found this blog because I was an earnest fan of Station 55, and have no context for what a Grand Brutale is. Sincerely- what the fuck? Video game battle royale competition that I’ve inexplicably been chosen for. I am excited to take a clean 98th place after I’m killed in the first ten seconds by a Vtuber with an anime girl falsetto and coloring normally reserved for poisonous snakes. I just wanted to say, how much your show has meant to me. It really helped when I was going through a bad time/helped me meet my friends/come to terms with my sexuality/made me realize I wanted to make movies when I grew up. 1) Thank you. Genuinely. 2) Christ the Buddha, please have higher standards. I wrote this shit when I was 19, you can do better.