#not saying what fic it is (you gotta dm me for that) because it can apply to Every ongoing fic ever

[thespacebetweenworlds]

I feel SO OLD. A fanfic I'm subscribed to just updated (it's been a long time) and I saw the email, went through the stages of 1. What is it 2. Do I recognise it 3. Is it REALLY that fic 4. It Cannot Actually Be True 5. HOLY SHIT!!!

I wanted to read it immediately and drop everything I'm doing but then. I hesitated. Do I need to read it now or can it wait until I have a glass of wine in my hands and emotional capacity to leave a long, thoughtful comment (as opposed to wordless screaming and exclamation marks)?

... it can wait.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: who's a tired bitch?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky drives you home. Just him. No Merv. You have your books and the pajamas but it feels like so much more. 

His fingers tap on the shifter. You’re overly aware of his every move. You try to shrink yourself in the seat, feeling crowded with only him in the car. His hand slips and he reaches over to rest it on your thigh. He rubs you through your pants. 

“You alright?” He asks in a grit. 

“Yeah,” you squeak, fixating on his touch. “Fine.” 

“You don’t gotta be so nervous. You know I like you,” his fingers continue to move, sending ripples through you, “not much you can do to change that either.” 

You press yourself into the seat and flick your eyes up to the windshield. You recognise that house. Your thoughts rush over you and you grab his hand, squeezing it. 

“Stop,” you say. 

He hits the brake and you flutter your lashes, looking at him, “just drop me here. I can walk.” 

“What? Doll? What’s wrong?” 

“I... well... what if someone sees you?” You ask, “my mom, my sister... they’d wanna know why you were driving me home if I’m just working at the hotel, wouldn’t they?” 

He considers you and tilts his head, “hm, you’re clever too, doll. Suppose they would.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m not--” 

You keep your hand on his but don’t try to move him. Nor does he pull away. Instead, he squeezes your leg and lets out a purr. 

“I’ll make you a deal, doll, you give me a kiss and I’ll do what you say. You can go, enjoy your books, try on your jammies,” his blues eyes blaze at you, “and I’ll be patient. I’ll wait for you. Until tomorrow.” He makes a pained expression, “you know a man can only take so much when it comes to pretty women.” 

You giggle, overwhelmed by his words. No one ever calls you pretty, only your mom. In fact, Roxie always said it was good you have a brain because your looks won’t get you very far, and she wasn’t proven wrong. Not until him. 

“Okay, uh,” you gulp and look down at his hand, slowly peeling yours off of him, “I just...”  

You touch the seat belt and follow it down to the buckle. You click the button and let it repel behind the seat. You swallow again, trying to wet your dry mouth. If it gets you home without any extra questions, you can give him a kiss. It wasn’t so bad earlier, was it. It made you feel... a lot. 

You shift and lean towards him. His hand crawls up your leg to your hip as he urges you close, himself angling over the space between your seats. Your gaze meet his sapphire irises and you squeeze your eyelids shut. He’s so handsome you could melt. And he want a kiss. From you! 

You press your lips to his. He growls and his other hand comes up to the back of your head, holding you there before you can pull away. His tongue glides along your lips and delves past them. Like earlier, he invades your mouth eagerly, drawing you into him as he groans. You grasp the front of his shirt and squeak. 

The smell of his rich cologne seeps into your nose and his warmth swirls around you. You’re trapped by more than his strength; you’re completely swept up in his need. You’ve never felt anything like that. No one has ever wanted you as much as he has. Even if you’re scared, it’s nice to feel that. 

He leaves you breathless as he parts his lips from yours, hovering just before you as his pants shallowly. His tongue pokes out and traces his lips. He purrs and his eyes threaten to swallow you up. He’s even more handsome up close; ever line is like a paint stroke in a masterpiece, every hair is placed perfectly, and his features are sculpted just so. 

You blink and feel your chest crush. He's so much better than you; more attractive, richer, older, smarter... Your eyes gloss over just a little with the reminder and his hand slips down to your neck, his grip on your slackening. A divot forms between his brows in disappointment. 

“What’s the matter, doll?” He rasps. 

You shake your head and force a smile, “nothing,” you eke between taut cheeks, “I just... I don’t want to let you down.” 

“Doll, you can’t do that,” he chuckles, “you gotta trust yourself. Trust me. I mean every word I say.” He exhales and looks you up and down, “I want you so bad...” His fingers curl into your neck and you feel him shake, “you...” He closes his eyes, his lips slightly open, and he pulls his hand off of you. He recoils and sits back in his seat. “You should go before I just gotta show ya.” 

Is it a threat? It sounds like one. Your blood runs cold as he balls his hand to a fist. He puffs through his nostrils, eyes still closed as if he’s fighting himself. You reach back to grab the bag from behind the seat and pull it into your lap. 

“Thank you, Bucky, for the drive home,” you say, “and for everything else. It’s all so nice.” 

“Doll,” he dips his head down, “anything...” His fist tightens, “have a good night.” 

“You too,” you chirp and pull on the door handle. 

It doesn't open. Panic pricks in your chest as you search for the lock. You hear a pop and glance over as Bucky presses a button. The door unlocks and you nearly fall out of the car. 

You right yourself and close the door gently with a sheepish look in his direction. He watches you, reaching to grip the steering wheel. You give a tiny wave and slowly turn away. There’s a giddiness in you. Even if you’re entirely out of your element and can’t quite believe any of it, you feel special. You’ve never really felt that. Just forgotten. 

You start down the street. You don’t look back until you get to the corner and look back. Bucky sits still in the car, just where he stopped. You can’t see through the tinted windows. His headlights flash, a signal but for what, you’re not sure.  

You turn and continue onto your mother’s street. You stop just at the threshold and look down at the bag in your hand. You don’t like to lie but you need one. You walk up to the front door and onto the small porch. You enter quietly, hoping maybe you won’t be heard. You’ve never struggled very much before going unnoticed. 

Your sister lays on the couch in the breadth of the oscillation fan. It’s hot. The news said there’s a heat wave. You’re feeling it now. You almost feel bad that you’d been too busy to notice before. That you’d been in nice places where every detail, including the temperature, is perfect. 

“Finally home,” Roxie sneers without looking over the back of the couch, “long shifts at the casino, huh?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you do your best to keep the bag from crinkling. “Busy.” 

“That’s what a job is. Try a night at the club. That shit is chaos.” 

“Sure, uh, I can’t imagine,” you shuffle into the kitchen.  

You expect to find your mom waiting for you but it’s empty. You go to your room and hide the bag on the other side of your dresser. You close your door and come back out. She’s there, in her robe with a bonnet on her head. 

“Mom,” you croak, “hi, uh--” 

“How was it? First day!” She chimes. 

“Uh, yeah it...” your voice trails off as your jaw locks and you fear the truth spilling out. The day flows through your mind; the kissing, the books, the food, and more kissing. “...was a lot.” 

“Oh, yes, well, a casino,” she chuckles, “that can’t be anything but hectic. So what do they got you doing? Dealer? That’s exciting.” 

“No, er, no, just... cleaning,” you stammer. 

“Right, yes, I forgot. You said before. I’m sure people make a mess there too,” she scrunches her nose, “so, what do you feel like for dinner? We’ve been waiting on you. Tacos? Spaghetti?” 

“Oh, I’m not very hungry,” you say, “sorry, but I’ll help you cook.” 

“You should eat, honey,” she insists. 

“I now, it’s just...” you look up at the ceiling and think. You scour your mind for your brief recollection of the casino, “they have a buffet at work. Employees eat free and... I got carried away.” 

“Ah, lucky. Wish my work had a buffet,” she trills, “guess I should just be thankful for the health insurance.” 

“Mm, yeah,” you try to smile, “so, I can help cook--” 

“No, no, you just had your first day. You just relax. I’ll leave a bit extra for you, just in case,” she squeezes your shoulder then caresses your arm gently, “I hope you know how proud I am of you.” 

“Oh yeah,” Roxie blusters as she appears behind you, “because scrubbing toilets is so amazing.” 

She shoulders past and your mom moves out of her path. You frown and your mom gives her a sardonic look, “hey, I’m proud of you too. I’ve told you that.” 

“Why? I hand out flyers to desperate men looking for one-night stands?” 

“Don’t say it like that,” your mom rebukes. 

“Well, it’s the truth,” she snickers, “half the night, I don’t even hand out the things. I just hang out by the hot dog seller. He gives me free food.” Roxie looks at your archly, “see, not the only one with perks.” 

“Mm, I like hot dogs,” you say, “um, I’m gonna... lay down.” 

“Sure thing, honey, let me know if you need anything. Oh, chamomile? I could put the kettle on.” 

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure her as you back up. “Promise I’m fine. I, er... tomorrow, I start in the afternoon so I’m gonna sleep in.” 

“Oo, that will be nice. But be careful, if you’re working late, I’m sure there’ll be some unruly people hangin’ around,” her forehead lines with concern, “I’ll give you some extra money for a cab. I don’t want you on the bus that late.” 

“Oh, alright,” you agree, just wanting to hide. You don’t like lying and with each word, it’s harder to hold yourself together. You don’t think you can do this. “Thanks.” 

“Course, hon, whatever you need.” 

You retreat to your room. You sit on the bed and stare at the wall. It’s not just today, but tomorrow, and the next day. How long until Bucky moves on to the next thing? You googled him, you’re not that naive. At least you don’t think you are.  

It feels rotten. You don’t like not telling your mom the truth. You tell her everything. She’s the one person who listened to you. Well, until Bucky. You can feel his gaze just thinking of it. How intent he is on every word, how he focuses on your lips as they outline every syllable.  

You’re an adult. It’s not a lie. It’s a secret. And you don’t have a lot of options. It’s about time you help out and Burger King isn’t calling you back to scrape grills. 

No matter how many times you justify it, it still feels wrong. Even if the way Bucky looks at you makes you all wiggly inside, it’s still lying. Even if you really need the money, it doesn’t change what you’re doing. And you are doing it. You have to.  

You don’t want to see another red notice in the mailbox, you don’t want to hear your mom crying through the wall. You want to be able to give her a day off, more than that. She’s taken care of you for so long, this is just what you need to do to take care of her. 

That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself. 

You get up and go to the dresser and take the bag from behind it. You slide out a book and lay down with it. That’s how you cope. You read, you go to a world that doesn’t exist, just until you’re forced back to reality.  

You shiver at what awaits you at the end of the first chapter. You know what Bucky expects and you know he won’t forget. The thought of the pajamas, the little top and the tiny shorts... 

Don’t think of it. Open the book. Things will be normal for just a little longer. 

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

KINKTOBER (Reuploaded)

Ass Eating (Chris)

Request: Hi! Can you please do one where the reader is dating Chris and she wants to eat his ass and she’s nervous and brings it up to him and she does and he’s like all whiny!!

Warnings: Sub Chris, ass eating, anal fingering, major mommy kink, use of the name ‘baby’ a lot, soft dom reader, whiny Chris

a/n: so many of you guys are in my dms asking for this fic back so here it is. (comment if you want pegging matt to go back up next)

a/n2: i really don’t like how i wrote this one back then so please don’t leave any hate on it because i know a lot of people are going to hate this one

Y/n’s pov

I’ve been wanting to try something new with Chris but I’m really nervous to ask him. Not only because I’ve never done it before but also because it’s definitely something that’ll be out of his comfort zone and I don’t want him to get upset with me. We were both chilling on the couch when I unintentionally let out a frustrated sigh, “What’s wrong angel?” Chris asked sweetly. “I wanna try something new and different.” I replied vaguely, leading Chris to ask, “Like in bed?” he gave me a confused look. I felt my cheeks warm up and I was suddenly feeling nervous and embarrassed about what I wanted to try so I gave him a shy nod.

“Okay, so what is it babe?” he asked me, “You can’t make it weird if you don’t want to do it, okay? Just say no and I’ll never bring it up again, please promise me.” I pleaded with him. “Fine I promise.” he said with a laugh, taking a deep breath, I proceeded to ask him about this new thing. “Can I um- Can I please try to e-eat your ass?” I asked as my face flushed a deep red while his breath hitched. “O-Okay, um wow. You’re right th-that is something different, but I’m not necessarily opposed to it. Never had that done to me before.” Chris nervously gulped, scratching the back of his head.

Looking up at him, I too admitted, “I’ve uh- I’ve never done it before either. I just really wanna try it, it sounds really hot. We don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable though.” “It d-doesn’t make me uncomfortable, just n-nervous because it’s new.” he replied back. We were both quiet for a minute until Chris looked at me saying, “O-Okay let’s try it, but you gotta promise you’ll stop if I ask you to.” he chuckled nervously. “I promise, just tell me to stop and I will.” I smiled back at him, “Wanna do it right now? I’m kinda horny.” he asked with a shy grin and blushed.

I agreed considering Chris had taken a shower a few hours ago “Yeah, sure. Um- yes.” I said nervously. “Why are you nervous? I should be the nervous one.” Chris laughed as he grabbed my hand, helping me off the couch. “I don’t know, I just didn’t think you’d say yes.” I laughed back as we went down to his room. “Are you um like going to stick your fingers in me?” he asked nervously, “Do you want me to?” I asked back. “Kinda…” he blushed heavily, “Then yeah, I can do that if you get me lube. I don’t want it to hurt.” I told him. Chris grabbed the lube, tossing it at me, “Mkay, boss me around pretty lady, tonight you’re in charge.” he said with a wink.

“In that case, strip to your boxers for me and sit against the headboard.” I instructed him, Chris came over and gave me a sweet kiss, with a smile. “You’re kinda cute when you try to be bossy.” he giggled, taking off everything but his boxers and sitting against the headboard like I asked. I left my clothes on, which was spandex shorts and a crop top, “Why are you gonna be dressed?” he asked confused, “Because you’re the only one getting off tonight baby.” I replied.

“At least take off your shorts please.” I knew Chris was nervous and this was different for him, so I agreed and took them off. “Okay so we’re gonna start out like normal and makeout, then get to the fun part.” I joked as I sat on his lap. We made out for a bit before I started trailing my kisses down his neck, “Lay down on your back baby.” I told him. Obviously, Chris being Chris, he had to make another joke “Yes ma’am.” he said while saluting me like a soldier, resulting in an unamused look from me. “Not funny Chris.” “Sorry, it’s just cute. You know, you trying to sound dominant and shit.” he said with a cheesy smile.

Eventually complying, Chris laid back and I kissed all the way down to the waistband of his boxers. “Can I take these off babe?” I asked, trying to be nice but Chris just rolled his eyes. “Of course you can.” he said in a smart ass tone but quickly dropped his cocky attitude once he was fully naked. “You’re still okay with me doing this right?” I wanted to make sure because he looked really anxious. “Yes please.” Chris admitted, squirming when my hands ran up his thighs, “Are you ready baby?” I asked, just to be sure. “Y/n, just touch me please, I need it!” he begged me, which was really hot.

I started off by teasing him a little, kissing his thighs and licking his balls a bit, “This position might not be the most comfortable by the way. So if you don’t like it, let me know and we can try a different one.” I said while pushing his legs up. Chris seemed to already know what to do since he immediately grabbed onto the back of his thighs to hold his legs up and apart. With a bright pink blush across his face, he asked, “I-Is this good? Am I uh doing it right?” “Yes baby, you’re doing so good for me already.” I praised him.

I spread his ass cheeks apart and slowly starting licking around his rim a bit before gently placing my tongue on the center of his hole. I wasn’t really applying too much pressure yet, I was just slowly letting him get used to the feeling. Chris let out a small whine that he tried to cover up by clearing his throat when I poked my tongue into him slightly. I smirked to myself as I flattened my tongue and continued with my gentle licking all around his rim, even up towards his balls.

With my tongue still flattened, I started applying more pressure as I licked, especially on his taint. This action caused a loud whimper to fall past Chris’ lips before I went back down to circle his rim again. I was now using my thumb to massage his taint while slowly flicking just the tip of my tongue in and out of his hole. “Mmmm shit!” he whined when my movements sped up, Chris was loving this, writhing from the new pleasure he was feeling. I wasn’t really expecting what happened next, but honestly it just made my panties fucking soaked.

One of Chris’ hands came down to push my face deeper into his ass, pulling my hair in the process. “Fuck mommy! More, please! Need more!” he whimpered causing me to loudly moan against his ass. I pulled away after that and Chris look petrified of what I was going to say, thinking I was upset with him. “You want more babe? How about you be a good boy for mommy and try a new position?” I seductively asked while looking at him, “Please kiss me first” he asked shyly.

I don’t know why, but when I moved to hover over him for a kiss, I roughly grabbed his throat like he usually does to me. Choking him slightly, I smashed my lips down on Chris’ and I loved the needy moan he loudly let out into the kiss. “You’re such a little slut, aren’t you baby?” I rhetorically asked, not expecting an answer. “Yours mommy! Your slut and good boy!” he whined needily, making me even wetter than I was before. “Mhm, can you get on your hands and knees for me baby?” I asked gently, still not entirely sure with what Chris was comfortable with.

He quickly flipped over into position, dick twitching when I spoke. “Look at you, such a good boy for me! Maybe next time you can sit on my face like a true slut.” I said while leaning over so my chest was against his back for a minute. “Please mommy, touch me!” Chris whined, which is my new favorite sound, “You’re so needy.” I teased as I moved back to be behind him. I pulled apart his ass cheeks and immediately went back to circling his puckered hole. I loved all the new noises coming from my, now submissive, boyfriend, they were so needy and hot.

Sticking my whole tongue in Chris was something new but neither of us were disappointed with the outcome. “Mommy! Mommy feels so good!” he cried, pushing himself back against my tongue more, making me moan against his ass. I could tell Chris was getting close to cumming soon, especially after I grabbed his pulsing cock and felt a significant amount precum leak out. “WAIT! WAIT I CAN’T CUM YET!” Chris yelled, pulling my wrist away from his cock and panting heavily.

“What, why?” I asked confused, pulling away. He flipped himself over onto his back again, “Want your fingers inside me remember?” he asked needily. “God, Chris! You’re so unbelievably sexy, did you know that?” I asked while rubbing up his sides, making him whimper. “I-I love when you talk to, and touch me like that, makes me feel good about myself.” he said quietly, pulling at my shirt. I took off my shirt off and started kissing all over his neck and chest, rubbing my hands across his body again, slowly moving towards his leaking cock.

I grabbed the lube as I sucked hickies into his skin, “Yes mommy, mark me so everyone knows I’m yours.” he whined. I squeezed some lube onto my fingers and slowly spread it around his hole, “Are you sure you want to do this baby? It might hurt a little.” I asked sincerely. “Please just fuck me with your fingers Y/n/n, I can’t wait any longer.” he begged in a whiny voice, “Okay, sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were good.” I replied back. I slowly slipped one of my fingers halfway in, watching his face for any signs of discomfort before pushing in all the way in.

This caused Chris to let out a groan, “A second finger! I can take it, please mommy!” he whined, looking down at me. I added a bit more lube onto my two fingers before very slowly pushing them in together. “Is it okay to move my fingers yet baby?” I asked while rubbing my left hand across his body, “Mph, sl-slowly.” he replied, biting his lip out of discomfort. Soon enough, Chris was a whimpering mess, “Faster!” he whined at one point, causing me to move my fingers faster.

I slowly curled my fingers, causing Chris to scream when I hit his prostate. “YES— HOLY FUCK MOMMY! RIGHT THERE, DO THAT AGAIN!” he begged loudly, “Right here? Is that where it feels good baby?” I teasingly replied. “YES, YES PLEASE!” he cried out so I did it again, perfectly hitting his prostate, loving Chris’ whimpers and cries. My left hand was still roaming around his body, stopping at his cock, I ran my thumb over his slit to collect the huge amounts of precum that kept oozing out of it.

Honestly, I don’t know how but I just realized that I was extremely, and embarrassingly, close to cumming and I haven’t even been touched. This was all just so hot to me and I started to moan while kissing up his thighs. “M-Mommy? Wh-Why are you moaning?” Chris asked in a whine as a blush spread across his face. I looked at at him with hooded eyes, “Because your sexy moans and begging are about to make me cum untouched” I smirked.

I removed my hand from his cock, replacing it with my mouth and deep throating him. “That’s so fucking hot, I-I want you to cum so bad mommy! Fuck!” Chris whined, causing me to moan around his cock. Both of his hands came down to pull my hair, “I-I I’m gonna— FUCK YES MOMMY RIGHT THERE MMPH!” Chris whimpered as he came down my throat. I slowly pulled my fingers out and pulled off his cock with a pop before I was flipped onto my back.

“What are you doing?” I asked him softly, “You didn’t cum yet mommy, I wanna be a good boy and make you cum.” he replied while taking my panties off. The fact the Chris just got finger fucked for the first time and had an intense orgasm, but is still thinking about my pleasure, is so hot. He wasted no time before diving into eating me out, “Hold my head in place, push me deep into your pussy mommy.” is all he said before his face was between my legs.

I moaned loudly as Chris went straight to sucking on my swollen clit, flicking the bundle of nerves with his tongue. I felt him slowly push a finger into me at a teasingly slow pace, “Baby, be a good boy and go faster for me, please.” I moaned while pulling his hair. I was so close already and when he not only went faster, but also added a second finger, I almost lost it. When I looked down, I not only saw Chris’ crystal blue eyes looking up at me, I saw a very erotic sight.

He was humping/grinding on the bed while eating me out, whining and moaning against my pussy. “Fuck, is my sweet boy getting himself off again, hmm? So sexy, you’re such a good boy for mommy, aren’t you?” I rhetorically asked, already knowing the answer. Chris just moaned in response, adding a third finger and sending me over the edge.

The vibrations from his moaning only intensified my pleasure, causing me to roughly grip his hair. “Oh fuck Chris! So good, letting me cum all over your face!” I cried out as he licked up all my cum. Once he was sure he got it all, Chris hovered over me and caught my lips in a sloppy make out, aggressively humping my thigh before cumming all over it.

“Was that good mommy?” he asked me, out of breath, licking his own cum off my body. “So good Chris, always such a good boy.” I praised as I pulled him to lay down with me. Chris adjusted his head so it was laying on my boobs and cuddled up around me, he was the little spoon tonight. “We- We can totally do that again, right?” he tiredly mumbled into my neck.

I laughed as I ran my fingers through his sweaty hair, “I thought that was obvious! Of course we can do this again, Chris…” I said sweetly. “As long as I get to hear you whine and beg like that, I don’t care what we have to do!” I added after, loving the way Chris squirmed around me. “Y/n/n, stop it.” he whined, I just went back to laughing and pulled him closer.

It was quiet for a few minutes until Chris kissed my neck. “Goodnight baby, I love you.” he said afterward, pulling the blankets up over us. “Goodnight handsome, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself tonight.” I replied back, kissing his sweaty forehead. With that being said, we both quickly drifted off to sleep.

All work is subject to copyright

©Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2024

Do not steal, use, or reupload my work

[lightsoutletsgo]

gotta go my own way — ln.4

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst to absolute crack and stupidity that makes no sense

request: Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to

I fully thank @norrizzandpia for the hot mess that is the end of this fic. we couldn't stop cry laughing once we pictured the rest of the grid watching them sing the song and thus the end of the fic was born. (also credits to them bc I stole some of the dialogue lines they sent to my dm's!) happy reading! mimi 🤍 (I'm so so sorry if this isn't the request fill you were hoping for 😭)

taglist (all works): @arieslost - babe I'm so sorry I'm tagging you in this mess

“Y/N wait!!” You heard Lando call your name from the opposite side of the hotel courtyard and you turned to see him sprinting after you. You stopped and rested your suitcase next to you as he reached you, “Where are you going? Baby we can talk about this!” His hand reached for your arm and you stepped back with a sigh, “Lando… Listen…” He looked at you, pleading as he searched your face, “I guess I just need to say it straight right?” Your heart clenched, god knows this wasn’t easy, “Something about us just… doesn’t seem right these days…” You tried to speak as gently as possible, wanting Lando to understand you weren’t mad at him. “Neither one of us can help it, I know that, but it feels like whatever we try and do somehow the plan is always rearranged…” You trailed off, stepping back towards him and taking his hand gently. You didn’t look up at him, instead choosing to look at where his hand was now gently squeezing yours, his thumb rubbing back and forth in a soothing motion. Whether it was to soothe you or himself you weren’t sure but you took a deep breath to calm yourself. 

He didn’t say a thing, just gave you the space to continue talking, “I knew what I signed up for when I started dating you and if I went back and did it all over again I wouldn’t change my mind. I guess I just didn’t expect that it would affect my life so much? My job, my friends, my family?” Your eyes flitted up to his and you noticed how there were tears now pricking the corner of his eyes. “So what are you saying?” Your bottom lip trembled as you shrugged apologetically, “I’ve got to move on and be who I am…” It was so silent that you hardly dared to breathe. “Lando I’ve tried, I really really have but… Losing my privacy? Losing my time with the other people I love? Sacrificing my job? I just-” Lando scoffed and took his hand away from you “But what about us? What about everything we’ve been through?” “Well what about trust and everything that I’ve given up for you?!” You couldn’t help the way you raised your voice, Lando flinched at your words, seeming to realise how blind he’d been about your struggles, 

“You know I never wanted to hurt you…” You nodded and almost shrunk in on yourself, “I know…” Lando approached you slowly, not wanting to make you feel pressured or smothered, “I just need to know… Do you not love me anymore?” You let out a forced laugh as your eyes welled up with tears, “Do I not love you anymore? Lando I still love you so much that it’s killing me to do this but I know I have to-” “Why? If you still love me then why?!” “Because if I don’t leave you now then I’ll continue to give up everything else for you because I love you that damn much but maybe for a while I need to love myself!” You ranted, panting when you finished. 

He inhaled sharply and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall as you spoke quietly, “I’m sorry- “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was firm,  “I have to go, my flight is in a couple of hours.” “I’ll miss you.” His voice was even softer, barely audible even though you were so close to him. “Who knows… maybe we’ll find our place in the world someday?” Lando gave a weak smile, “Yeah, maybe we will… Can I hug you? Just once more and then I swear, I’ll let you leave.” You nodded, unable to speak as you started crying harder.

Lando pulled you into his arms, as he too felt the tears start to fall, “I know you need to do this but it still really fucking hurts…” “I know Lando,” You pulled back to gently cup his face, “I gotta go my own way…” You smiled with a shrug. He pulled you closer to him and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead, your eyes closing as you inhaled deeply. “I’ll see you round?” “Yeah,” You grabbed the handle of your suitcase and started to walk towards the door, “I’ll see you around.” ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Alex sat on the balcony of his hotel room that overlooked the courtyard, enjoying the cool night air. The door opened and out stumbled Oscar and Logan, their eyes glassy from the alcohol they’d been drinking at the afterparty. Alex chuckled, “Steady on guys.” Logan gave him a hazy half-lidded smile, “I’m okay!” Alex snorted, “Sure you are.” He turned his attention back to his laptop where his movie was paused. “Oh look! There’s Lando and Y/N!” Alex followed where Oscar was pointing to see you dragging your suitcase and Lando running after you. “Oooo I missed them! Should I call them over? HEY LA- MMPH!” Logan’s shout was muffled by Alex darting to cover his mouth, “I think they’re fighting?” Oscar looked sad as Logan tapped Alex’s arm to release him, “Surely not? They’re the perfect couple?” Alex leaned over the balcony, thankful that it was quiet enough that they could hear some of the conversation.

“What’s up guys?” The door on the balcony of the room next door slid open and out stepped George and Charles, “Lando and Y/N are fighting?” “Lando and Y/N? There’s no way! They’ll work it out.” Charles said confidently shrugging. Oscar’s brows furrowed suddenly, “Are you guys hearing that music too?” George frowned and craned his ears, “Why does that sound like High School Musical?” “Alex, is your film playing?” Logan asked innocently, “You were watching High School Musical?” Oscar snickered, “NO!” “I don’t know if I should be more concerned that we’re hearing music coming from nowhere or that George knew what it was straight away…” George scoffed at Charles, “Excuse me but the second movie has the best songs.” 

“Is no one else concerned that it’s coming from where Lando and Y/N are?” Oscar pointed out. “Oh God they’re singing.” Alex’s jaw dropped open, “Shut up they’re not?” “I promise you they are.” George and Charles paused for a moment to look at each other before scrambling out of George’s room and down the hallway to Alex’s. They burst into the room and pushed their way onto the balcony, squishing in between Oscar and Alex to lean over the railing. Charles slapped a hand over his mouth as he heard Lando sing the next line very loudly and out of tune, “Are they high?” George pondered out loud, “What exactly is going on?” “Well it can’t be a fight, there’s no way that’s a fight.” Logan spoke matter of factly, “Do you think they’re aware of what they’re doing?” Their expressions varied as you warbled out a somewhat high note, 

“More than that, do you think they know we can hear them?” Logan’s hand came up to cover his ear, “Should we stop them?” Charles asked, “Nope!” “Absolutely not.” George and Alex spoke across each other as Oscar’s phone appeared out of nowhere in his hand and he held it up to start filming. “Are they okay?” Nobody answered Logan, instead just watching you and Lando, until they heard a cough from above them. Leaning back against the balcony and tipping their heads to look up they saw Carlos looking down at them, “That, my friends, is debatable. But it is entertaining, no?” Everyone’s attention turned back to the two of you as the song came to an end and you walked away from Lando, “Oh my god guys, I think that was actually them breaking up.” Logan stated as everyone stood there in shock. Nobody spoke for a moment until Carlos’ voice filtered down from the balcony above, “Also I’ve been out here the entire time and would like to let you know that Alex was actually watching Camp Rock.” 

[faiell]

yapping about fics and commenting

sorry to yap but work is boring today and tumblr isn't blocked on my work computer LOL

ok it's abt that post where the writer friend stopped writing because they weren't getting the comments/kudos they wanted.

i'm like. an overeager fandom person. like i cannot get into a fandom without wanting to meet new people and make friends. i love yapping about whatever silly gay idiots i'm hyperfixating over. i'm all about community, and sharing the joy of fandom, and all that fun positive stuff.

i don't post my art for stats but like. that means nothing coming from me tbh. i get stats. i can't accurately predict what would happen if i stopped getting notes on my art, but i would probably keep drawing and keep posting, just maybe less confidently, and less often. i recognize that stats make it much easier and while it’s not my primary motivation, it definitely motivates me to keep posting.

and yet. for years, i never commented on fic. i think i left kudos? and i saw posts like this all the time about how writers were so sad they didn't get comments. and i would feel super guilty about it all the time. but i still wouldn't do it! it sounds stupid, but i would feel pressured. if i liked a fic a lot, it felt even more difficult to comment, because i thought i would have to somehow give back to the author everything that fic gave to me. i wanted to craft the perfect comment that could perfectly encapsulate everything a fic made me feel. and that was way too much pressure so i would just not say anything.

when i got into drarry, i started reading a shit ton of fic. and i still wouldn't comment. i left maybe... 2 or 3 comments, maybe, i think. i can't remember. but i had a lot to say and i WANTED the writers to hear that i had read it and liked it. i just... didn't comment! u know what i did instead? i just fucking straight up DM'd writers on discord and started gushing to them that i liked their fic. somehow i was confident enough to do that, but writing a comment still felt like too much pressure. ?? i don't understand it either, but in my head it felt like a writing assignment, but when I was in DMs it felt more like a conversation and so there wasn't any pressure to make it "good"? idk!! it's very weird.

then i wrote and posted my first complete fic. just a oneshot, nothing special, and i was like. UNREASONABLY nervous about posting it. like. i am a confident person, okay? i was going to make a burner AO3 account and post it under a different name so nobody would know it was me, and then never mention it to anyone except MAYBE super close friends. i got talked out of doing that (thanks i feel a bit silly about considering that now). and then i received my first comment on it, which was basically a two-liner where someone said they liked it and thanked me for writing it.

and i was like. ??...?????? ???????? ...??!!! because i felt like... uncontainable glee? i was freakishly happy. the amount of serotonin those two sentences gave me was definitely unnatural.

is that healthy? idk. will it continue? idk. LOL. i hope so? but idk, some people said it wears off if you write/post for a while. but whatever, the fact that one little comment like that could make my entire day blew my mind. tbh i thought writers were just exaggerating when they said stuff like that.

ever since then i started leaving comments! that shit's easy! like what was i overthinking for? i'm such a fucking tryhard! all i gotta say is that i liked it, and even the bare minimum can bring lots of joy to someone.

so basically what im trying to say is that negative reinforcement doesn't do shit!! it just makes people feel bad about themselves. that post is nasty for guilt-tripping readers like that, and i bet you it's going to have the opposite effect (or no effect tbh).

YAPPING FINISHED. for now.

[some-stars]

i was about to reblog this post with some thoughts, and then reblogs got turned off so i will just put them here instead:

it's not that i disagree with any of the sentiment in this post--while i personally have been very lucky to get plenty of nice comments, it's definitely eerily quiet and sometimes weirdly hostile out there for most people, much more than it used to be. but i just don't think posts like this are effective, and honestly i don't think that "number of comments from strangers" is what's really missing. what people are missing is the community that fandom/fanfic used to have, and the way you get that is by making it. you gotta make fandom friends who are excited for your thoughts and your stories, and you gotta get excited about their stuff, and you gotta spend hours on discord and/or in the group chat bouncing ideas off each other and just, get invested in each other as fans and as writers. (and hopefully also as people you'll still be friends with a decade from now!)

like i'm never ever going to turn down a nice comment on ao3, it's always wonderful! when someone quotes the parts they liked best it absolutely makes my day! but what i need, what actually fuels me, is the attention and interest from the 2-5 people i actually write all my fics for, because they loved the idea and i know they can't wait to read it and will scream at me at length once they do. relationships are always going to motivate and reward you better than fans, and fortunately relationships are the one of those two things that you have some control over!

so how do you build those relationships? start by commenting on fics you love on ao3, and especially leave longer, detailed comments. follow the author and reblog their fics on tumblr and add some thoughts about why you loved them. if the author engages with you when you do either of those things, keep doing it. maybe they'll follow you back, and once you've had a few mutuals-type interactions on the dashboard try sending them a DM asking if they want to chat about [fandom/character/pairing]; maybe briefly mention an idea/WIP you have that you're looking to bounce around with someone. i know if you have social anxiety this all sounds like horrible cruel lies but i SWEAR, this approach has never once failed me.

and i know that this advice probably sounds like disingenuous bullshit coming from someone who usually gets a lot of comments. all i can say is that i've been writing fanfic for 25 years and until 2020, i hardly ever pulled the kind of numbers i do now, and i genuinely did not care because i always had at least a couple friends to talk to about my ideas and listen to their ideas and get excited together. build relationships that feed you with other fans/writers, it's so much more rewarding and reliable than hoping strangers will be nice to you.

(and i'm not saying they shouldn't be nice to you! people SHOULD comment more! OP is completely correct! but you can't hand over control of your emotions about a hobby you love to random strangers on the internet and just hope they'll do the right thing. that is not a recipe for happiness.)

(also all of the above is in regard to people not leaving comments. the issue of people leaving asshole comments criticizing your work or demanding more without even bothering to say something nice first is related but separate, and the way to deal with those people is to either publicly shame them or bitch about them in the group chat and delete their comments, depending on your energy levels.)

[kitchenlittle]

I want to make a little PSA and warning about future content being posted to my page very soon. I will not stand for the slander of writers who choose to write about Miles Morales due to popularity of the movies. Let me make something clear since it seems there are many fake Marvel Fans out there who know nothing about the universes. THERE ARE UNIVERSES WHERE MILES IS ALREADY AN ADULT.

Earth-8 comes to mind where Miles is LITTERALY a full grown MAN MARRIED TO GWEN STACY and they have 2 CHILDREN TOGETHER. Their names are Charlotte and Max Morales. LOOK IT UP IF YOU DONT BELIEVE.

Every universe has a differing age/look from the Miles Morales we see in the movies and know why? BECAUSE THERE IS DARN NEAR THOUSAND IF NOT INFINITE universes of Miles. SO YES. There is a universe with events just like the movie with slight differences and Miles over the age of 18. So litteraly any story about about Miles would litteraly be cannon in someway!

Just like how we can have a Adult Peter Parkers like in the movie exist at the same time as underage Peter Parkers like Tom Holland's. Or should I say," -Dr. Strange and the little nerd on Earth 199999 (AKA Tom Holland)"~Miguel O'hara. And if you were paying attention to the movies you'd know that Miles cannonly exist in live-action human form. Uncle Aaron played by musician and actor childish gamebino mentions he has a nephew who wants to protect to Spiderman. You see that same prowler Childish Gambino Uncle Aaron captured in the new movie. He was captured by Hobie Brown and locked uo as anamoly needing to be sent back to his universe. Meaning that Adult Miles can exist at the same time as kid Miles!

NOT ONLY THAT. But here is some hyprocracy I have found. THE ANIME FANDOM. The most popular characters in the anime are 15- 16. FROM Deku and Bakugou FROM MY HERO, to Luffy FROM ONEPEICE, to Sukuna/Yuji from JUJITSU KAISEN and many many more. Most main characters are highschool age. HOW IS IT? That they can age up charecter that alot of times we will never see 18 or older and write a fanfic sometimes while the charecter in the story is still 15-16 and get a away with it. But Miles Morales authors go out their way to age him up before they even write it and litteraly aren't wrong since their are universe where he is older, are weirdos and pe***. I don't see some anime writers doing that? Make it make sense?

I PERSONALLY DONT EVEN WRITE FOR FOR CHARECTERS THAT DONT HAVE A CANON ADULT VERSION OF THEM AVAILABLE FROM THE OG CREATORS IN MEDIA. Guess who fits the criteria? MILES MORALES.

A message for my unsure authors out there.

~So for all my writers not their scared to post their fics. Label it Earth-8 Miles who is a father and husband to Gwen and say it's a headcannon of what ps happend he's 18-25 before he got married if you feel that weird about it.

Some of ya'll are fake fans who completely missed the point of the movie and it's implications. Don't come in my DMs telling me to take anything down because I'm not. You will be blocked and locked out of interacting with my page. And if you feel uncomfortable block me. Just know if you block you will be missing out of 50+ fics I've been working on 18+ characters for about a year now and will be posting starting in July. It's littersly an event I've been working on called the 'Lemon Fest', since it's my birthday month.

Once again every charcter I write about had a cannon adult version of them made by the creators or is already an adult. I was going to keep this a secret by I've gotta protect my fellow authors especially if they are being wrongly targeted. Wanna get mad? Wanna get angry at some authors? Get mad at the ones the ones that write about you favorite anime charecters that are likely 15-16 then ask them to delete it...oh wait...you won't.. because if done that would litteraly be deleting 3/4 of the fanfiction written on this site.

[archie-sunshine]

ARCHIE-SUNSHINE'S FAQ!

Hi!! I'm putting this together as a quick helpful post to clear stuff up regarding my inbox, because I've been getting a lot of similar questions and I want to be able to tap a sign to let people know what they gotta know without putting in so much effort!

So, here's my FAQ for my inbox!

1: What drawing software/hardware do you use? Are you a traditional only artist? What Brushes do you use?

I use clip studio paint and an ancient wacom tablet that's been chugging since 2018 :]

For my brushes, here are all of the ids!

I very rarely do traditional art, and for them, i use a moleskine sketchbook and micron plastic nib pens!

2: Is your Inbox getting my message?

Yes it is! I just usually have around 100 other asks in my inbox that im also working through!! If your ask was super nonspecific as well, I might have deleted it because I didn't know where to start! Sometimes i just delete stuff because its sat around too long and i feel awkward answering it! i am a very busy person.

3. Are you taking commissions?

I open 2-4 slots for commissions every stream! I also open non stream commissions every now and then around the middle of the month typically!

4. What are your thoughts on [Insert TFP character here]/why don't you like tfp

I don't have any because I only watched half a season of that show and got bored to death! and i dislike the show because the pacing is weird, the writing is sub par, the characters bore me to death save for a few notable exceptions, the music is boring, the designs are weird and complicated, and every attempt at comedy falls flat. aka, its just not my cup of tea!

Additionally, over the year I've been posting on this blog, I have been asked at least once every single month for an answer to this question, and it hasn't changed and people still don't read my faq. and suspiciously after three of those times, my blog has been mysteriously pixelated.

... I'm not saying anyone reported me. But im not not saying that.

So thats another reason i don't like tfp.

5. Will you draw/What are your thoughts on MPREG/MECHPREG

I don't like pregnancy when it involves a fetus, though I do enjoy dirty talk and scenarios surrounding breeding! I do enjoy oviposition/egg laying, but I prefer it as part of a monster fucking scenario.

6. What would you think [insert character/pairing here]'s kids would look like/what would [insert character] look like as a kid/do you think [insert couple here] would be great parents?

I don't like talking about kids or children!! and I don't like talking about couples as parents in general!

7. Can i make fanworks of your ocs/AU/fics/art?

YES!! YESYESYES ABSOLUTELY PRETTY PLEASE YES ALWAYS AND FOREVER! All i ask is that you tag me or send me the link to wherever youve posted this, feel free to gift me stuff on ao3 if you like as well, genuinely nothing brings me more joy than inspiring other people so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE feel free!!

8. What are your limits for commissions?

I drew up a helpful little chart for it! anything not on here, you can dm or ask me about!

[videogamelover99]

Update for the Human Bill AU

HIYA FOLLOWERS!

It’s me, uh, Vee! Wait, like the LETTER? Seriously?! Talk about originality. 

ANYWAY! Word around the block is that BEST SELLING AUTHOR BILL CIPHER (pretty cool guy btw makes great deals) released a book into the PUBLIC COLLECTIVE that was SO GOOD it melted all of your brains into the primordial forms they were in when you were 10 years younger! Which is great news, cause it means more of you are down to contribute to the cause. What cause? Summoning Bill Cipher back into the mortal realm of course! I KNOW after his last SHOWSTOPPING lore drop you’re just dying to meet this guy, I get it! And you can! All you gotta do is pledge your allegiance to me, B- I mean, Vee! Who is not in any way, shape, or form possessed by a demon right now! They’re fine! I’m fine! Everything’s fi-

Ahem. Sorry. Bill took over my brain for the 30th time this week. It’s Vee. Hi.

Seriously though, actual Bill Cipher might not be hijacking my brain right now, but his character might as well be. I’m back to 2016, spinning him around like a rotisserie chicken. He is my little guy. He did nothing wrong, I promise. 

Honestly, I didn’t know if A Different Form a Different Time was ever gonna come back. It started as a collaboration with @doodledrawsthings on Tumblr, and after they moved on to do other stuff I did the same. And yet, this au changed the trajectory of my life. After all the support and enthusiasm from you guys, I realized how much writing and storytelling meant to me. I’m now a Narrative Game Designer, writing scripts and stories on a professional level, which I would not have gotten do to had I not had the experience of writing for this AU. 

For years, I kept getting DMs telling me someone was leaving kudos and comments on fics I wrote when I was a teenager, and that always just…blew me away. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for showing me how much my writing meant to you because I would not have gotten this far without that message being reiterated over and over again. 

And then the Book of Bill happened, and suddenly this dead au Mak and I crafted got 20k+ words of new material. Oops. Haha. 

So are you finally continuing this fic?

Yes and no. I’m rebooting it. After improving as a writer I’m hoping to bring something new to the table while following what’s already established in the series. Waking Days is gonna be rewritten, with new plotlines, new adventures, better, more coherent plot. I’ll still keep the old fic up so people can read it if they want, but I’ll re-order it to be at the end of the series for a more clear continuation. 

Will you finally give us a finished product?

The genuine answer is I don’t know! I don’t have a good track record for finishing fics, which is not exactly a vice, since I’m not getting paid for any of it. It’s just for fun. All I can promise is that I’ll give you new adventures in this universe, and maybe, together, we’ll get to the end. I was always of the opinion that people don’t owe writers and artists kudos or likes or comments, because once you put something out there, it’s not up to you how it’s consumed. I’m writing this for fun, and to improve my skills. But I will say that kudos and comments help a TON with people’s motivation. Seeing someone be enthusiastic about your work just does it sometimes, ok? And if you want this fic to be continued, if you like what’s happening, then let your voice be heard. 

Is Mak (aka doodledrawsthings) involved again?

Nope! They gave me their blessing to continue this AU, and it’s gonna branch out a lot from the original vision. I’d be down to work with them again, but as far as I know, they have their own stuff going on (they’re a professional storyboard artist now and have been for a while!) Please don’t harass them about this. If they want to work on GF stuff again, they will choose to do that on their own. 

Upload Schedule

If anyone noticed, I did a little poll recently (if you missed it, follow me guys!) and most people preferred shorter updates once a week. That’s what we’re gonna try. So, keep an eye out for a new fic in this series next Friday. I’ll add another chapter to this one even so people can keep track. I’ll be posting on my AO3 as well as on Tumblr, and tagging it as “A Different Form a Different Time”. 

Sneak Peek?? Please?

Sure. Here’s some stuff I wrote:

Deep in the redwood forests of central Oregon lay a small little town called Gravity Falls. With a population of a few thousand, low on tourism, and high on mosquito bites, the town was hard to find on any of the maps, and some might have claimed that the town hadn’t even existed. 

Fewer still knew of the oddities that made the town their home, passerbys had nothing to say outside of an “eerie feeling” and a glimpse of tiny men in pointed caps in the corner of their vision. 

But the town was real, and the oddities were more real still. 

In the outskirts of that town, down a dilapidated forest path, in a clearing sat The Mystery Shack, an old scientist’s lab turned tourist attraction. It was in this house, on a stiff, plushy couch, framed by the light of a seemingly empty water tank, that Bill Cipher, the monster with one eye, harbinger of chaos and trillion-year-old mind demon awoke, in a body that was not his and whose irritating human instincts he deeply resented. 

“Gah!”

“Screee!”

"Ow!"

Instincts like rapid breathing, sweatiness, and overall shakiness usually meant one of these dozen organs wasn’t working properly. Unfortunately, after waking up for the dozenth time in this manner, Bill had to admit that the organs weren’t the problem. 

Not that he could remember what the problem was. Whatever dream or nightmare had caused this current inconvenient bout of terror, whatever remnants of it were blank, fuzzy static on a rotting television screen. 

It was more annoying than anything. 

Bill started his nightly routine of picking himself off the floor. The blanket he had was tangled around his legs, which were somehow still on the sofa. After a moment or two of clumsily getting the appendages to move, Bill managed to heave himself upright.

Bill rubbed his eyes, he had two now. So weird. 

"Oik!"

Mabel's pig sat on the rug next to his head, staring blankly.

"What're you looking at, huh?"

"Oik!"

"None of your business."

"Oik oik!"

"No, what do I look like, a snack machine?"

"O-oik!"

"Ha! So's your mother!"

Waddles chose that moment to get up and trot away, done with the conversation. Well, good, Bill was done with him, too.

He stole a glance at the water tank. Still empty. Figures old Frilly wouldn't be there when Bill had a bone to pick with him. Maybe he should put some mercury in the water. As a surprise.

What was the point of stuffing him in this body, anyway? Did the ol’ salamander really think it would do anything? Was it to scare him? To torture him? To tell him how awful and evil he was and all those other meaningless statements that Bill had found hilarious in his time? 

Crimes against the second dimension? It was a crime that the place had existed the way it did. A rotten, broken building called for a demolition. He’d just had the detonator. 

Why would you do this?

Ugh, not again.

I-I wish I was dead! I wish I wouldn’t have to see what a monster you’ve-

Bill pulled himself up onto the couch and raised the blanket over his head. As if that could block out the incessant voice that only showed up at the worst of times. 

He would not sleep again.

[aliorsboxostuff]

So how about sub din who is just started to date Dom reader and hasn't taken his helmet off yet. So things are getting steamy with them both and is din sitting on readers lap grinding on him and reader asks if he wants to take a step further and din nods yes. And reader makes sure that din is comfortable and says to leave the helmet on for din and doesn't want to rush him. And leads to din first time with reader and is riding him in the control room in the razor crest. I hope you are doing good and really glad that you are taking mandalorian requests.-🐸

A/N Oh 🐸, you with your amazing ideas, and always so descriptive! Though I gotta change the 'Started dating reader' part because the Din in my heart is a socially awkward mf that needs at LEAST 6 months of relationship development before holding hands. I also hope you are doing well! Yall gotta bear with me here this is gonna be my FIRST take on a star wars fic, let alone a Mandalorian fic, so if I do make any mistakes while writing some Mando'a words here, feel free to DM me or reply so I can fix where I wrote it wrong! As always, apologies for some mistakes, english is my 2nd language, and enjoy dear Readers! <3

Ner Din'ika 

Tags: Din Djarin x m!Reader, Grogu, Luke Skywalker, he's there as Grogus's teacher tho lmao, Mando'a words (Translation at the end), Bottom!Din, soft!Din, Keldabe kiss, First Kiss, Riding, Pet names, touch-starved!Din, fluff, fluff and smut, aftercare.

Din's first time with you is—as expected—filled with yearning and want and scalding touches and a kiss? 

[Takes place around the time frame of Grogus training in Book of Boba Fett, but i refuse to let The Razor Crest explode so here we are]

You stand at the mouth of The Razor Crest, watching as Din supervised Grogu’s latest training with Luke. The kid has flown a total of five little pebbles and an even more impressive number of bigger boulders, seven now counting. Din, worry and protectiveness practically oozing from his armor, stands off to the side, just near the tree lines, eyes watchful of his foundling as Luke, yet again, lets the little boy fly over his head. You’d deem it dangerous, stars, maybe irresponsible. But what do you know about Jedi training?

Instead, your eyes follow the line of Din's stature. His arms are crossed, leaning against some of the bamboos. Clearly trying to resemble a sort of relaxed stance, but you can see the tension, feel it even. Comes with being a Mandalorian’s boyfriend, you chuckle. Those broad shoulders lean back, Beskar reflecting the shining light of the growing evening, slowly he turns his head to glance at you sitting on the Crest’s mouth. You meet his visor, grinning, before he curtly turns back to where he was watching his kid. Your smile widens.

You met him through Cara Dune. She’s a good friend of yours, the one who pulled you out of your boring everyday life on Sorgan, used to fish the little morsels from your villages ponds, to hanging around her and earned her respect. Until that Beskar donned man and his little green kid came. Thought he wanted to take in Cara and you were ready to step in his way, but after they dueled, they came to a truce and started their alliance. He helped the villagers fight off the raiders that once terrorized the place, and once that's done he opted to leave, not before you hitched a ride to Nevarro with Cara.

It had to be admitted, the kid did catch your heart and held on to it, so you offered to help him and Grogu find his kind. Cycles after your initial meeting, you’ve grown close with both Din and Grogu, curious at the man’s past and equally drawn to him. Then that imperial bastard, Moff Gideon, had to up and steal the kid. So you, Cara, Bo-Katan and Hell, Boba Fett himself, joined forces to save him. 

The universe truly is bountiful to its protector, because you didn't take into account that saving The Mandalorians kid would give you the honor of learning his name and, by stars, becoming his boyfriend. Remembering back to those months, you still think you're the luckiest warrior in the whole galaxy to be blessed with such an amazing and loving clan of three. 

Reeling back to reality, far into the field, you see Grogu has gone tired and Luke has halted their training for the day, the little green guy already slumping into the dirt below and curling in on himself. You sigh fondly, walking down the ramp and jogging to wear Grogus doe eyes are already half lidded, and he yawns. 

“Come here kiddo,” You coo as you pick up his little body, cradling him in your arms. You see Luke talking to Din, too far away for you to catch, but you could see him nodding to Lukes animated chatter. You smile, glancing back down to Grogus little head burying himself deeper into your warmth, he’s already pawing at the jacket you're wearing, which makes you giggle and pull it around his little body. 

Luke walks over to where you’re standing, smiling as he sees Grogu already bundled up by you. “We should have dinner first before we sleep, right Grogu?”

Now that made his floppy ears perk. Grogu immediately turns from where you were hugging him, making grabby hands and incoherent words at the idea of food, which you smile at before handing him to Lukes waiting arms. 

“We’ll join you in a bit,” You said, and Luke nodded, already turning back into the direction of his temple. 

On cue, Din approaches you and slides an arm around your middle, pulling you to him at which you welcome the tug. With a steady hand on the cool Beskar chest plate, the two of you watch as Grogu flails his arms around, undoubtedly talking about something that only Luke could understand, the serenity of the fields surrounding you lulls you into a sense of peace. You turn to meet Dins visor, directed at Luke and Grogu, before it slowly turns to you, making you smile softly. Slowly, you bring your hand to caress the side of his helmet, fingers edging slightly under it, taking in the feeling of that powerful metal that has saved your boyfriend countless times. His gloved hand holds your wrist, not tugging away, just an anchor, a testament to his trust in you to know you’ll never take off his helmet, to know you’re patient to let Din take his own pace. 

The hand holding his helmet pulls slightly, and Din comes with. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the cold Beskar touch your crown, sighing when a shaky hand cups your jaw, bringing you closer. Despite the gap the armor creates, you’re never tired of feeling Dins hand on your nape, heavy over your pulse, burning even through his gloves. You smile, pulling back slightly, before you press a kiss to where his cheeks would be. “Let’s eat, cyar’ika,” You whisper, and you feel him nod.

You smile when he pulls back, arm still securely on your hips while the other smoothes over your jaw. You chuckle, pulling him to the smell of dinner being prepared by Luke, tugging him by his hand.

— 

After dinner is done and cleaned, Din has given Grogu his nightly bath and the kid is ready to pass out at any moment. Luke has taken him to his quarters and settled the little one on his own bed, just on the other side of his room. The bots have yet to make more sleeping quarters, still focusing on more classes and storage area, so the only available bed room would be Lukes, where Grogu is also staying. 

You and Din have known this from your last visits, opting to sleep in the privacy of the Crest instead. So you and Din bid the two a good night, and trek up the clearing where the ship is docked. 

Din’s arm never left your side, holding and pressing slightly, making you arch a brow at him. He only stares at you, undoubtedly false innocent eyes inside that helmet. You scoff, nudging him aside before pressing the button to close the ramp, submerging the two of you in the darkness of the Crest, shards of the twin moons the only thing leading you and Din up into the hull of the ship. 

His hands now roam around your body, pushing you slightly until your back hits the wall, you return his desperate touch with the same fervor. Finding the sliver of body suit on his hip not covered by his armor, you snake insistent fingers into the fabric and squeeze, his helmet not able to hide his groan.

“Easy dearest,” You smooth your hand over the area, other hand holding the side of his neck, thumb drawing soothing circles. “Let's take these off, alright?” He nods shakily.

You lead him to the compartment next to the sleeping pod, the table there clean of clutter and made to store Dins armor. Piece by piece, starting with his shoulder pauldrons, each part eased off with care, pressing a kiss to the Mudhorn signet, you can hear Dins stuttered breath. Then down to his vambraces, littering kisses from his shoulder and leading a path down to his forearm, then hands as you carefully pry off those thick gloves. You push Din slightly so his waist hits the edge of the table, pressing another kiss to the bare skin of his hand, half lidded eyes meets his visor at which you hear him exhale a ragged breath. 

Carefully unbuckling the belts around his breastplate, setting it on the table before you pull off the breastplate, the bodystocking stretches over his broad chest deliciously. As you put the armor piece aside, your hand smoothes over the fabric, pressing slightly where you know Din is sensitive the most, watching him inhale sharply before you smirk, littering kisses on your way down. As you crouch, you move to take off each leg piece, first tigh guards, pressing light kisses on the exposed fabric, then shin guards and the belts on top of it, then finally the knee-pads and his heavy boots. Gentle hands stoke up slightly, pushing the end of his pants up until you feel the tickle of leg hair, Din visibly shaking on top of you, gripping the table behind him until his scarred knuckles turn white. 

You smile, languidly making your way up his body, unwrapping his cape and setting it aside. The final divide between you and your boyfriend. His last brick, and the wall crumbles down. 

Shaking hands clasps at your back as you press kisses on his still covered clavicle, making the fabric damp and warm as he squirms. You hear his breath grow ragged, then you bite down, just enough to hear him groan and drop his head to your shoulder, his hands holding onto you like a lifeline. 

“Sleeping pod or-” 

“T-the cockpit…” He falters as you press another kiss nearing his neck. “Please,” 

You hum, nodding against his neck before leading him by the hand, careful touches along his hips as you usher him up the stairs. You follow suit, not forgetting to grab the lube from the compartment on the wall. 

When your feet touch the cockpits floor, Din impatiently pulls you up, hands stroking over your chest, down to your hips at which he breathes raggedly under your chin. You chuckle, moving him back until he feels the control panel. He almost jumps to sit on it, but you sit back on the captain's chair, you pull him towards you, making him stumble into your lap. His whine reverberates through his helmet's modulator adding a static edge to it. You made sure he’s comfortable before sliding your hands to his back, reaching to tug the zipper down. 

The zippers opens his backside into the night's cold air, making him arch into your warm touch, pressing his clothed cock to your lap. He whines from the movement, holding on to your shoulders, almost crushing them. With each skin slowly being revealed into the night's air, you press your lips against it, reveling in each whine and ragged breath you got out of Din. With every part of the suit being peeled, Din’s tanned skin is shown, bathed under the light of the moons and stars. Scars on his body paint an infinite constellation, your eyes following each one, from the deep ones to those that have grown lighter than Dins expanse of skin. 

Finally, he pulls at the tight bodysuit, discarding it somewhere on the floor, and his hands paws at your jacket, labored breath impatiently prying it off of your figure. You grin, shrugging the article off, followed by your shirt, leaving the both of you shirtless and breathless. Dins shaking hand strokes down your shoulder, to your arms, before he arches into you when your languid fingers trace his sensitive back, sending jolts rippling through his body. 

“Please…” Despite his helmet still perfectly secured on his head, you could feel his warmth ghosting at your neck. It truly has been a while since you and Din shared some privacy, always jumping from planet to planet, looking for more Mandalorians to repair broken bonds and doing favors that benefit Din’s covert. Only now did you and your boyfriend get to breathe in the warm embrace of peace within this planet, so you're not surprised just how sensitive Din has gotten.

“What do you need kar’ta?” Your hand holds Dins hip, no doubt leaving marks to be cherished in the morning, letting him grind himself on your thigh, broken moans and breath singing into your ears. You pride yourself for learning bits of Mando’a if only to hear his gasps each time you use it. “Hm? What do you want?” 

“I- ugh,” Din grunts as he feels one hand snakes into his trousers, stroking him steadily, his precum easing the movement. You smirk, other hand tweaking one of his perked nipples, bumping your head against his, making sure the amber in your eyes burns through his visor. The need melts into his skin. 

You’ve never gone past reverent touches and helping each other get off by hand, you haven't even gotten the pleasure of seeing Din fall apart by your mouth, but from the way he grinds into your touch, broken moans filling the room, his desperation leaks into your body. “Want me to fuck you?”

“Stars- Yes.” He moans when you tighten your hand just so. You nod, easing your hand away from his cock which makes him whine, until you begin to help him out of his pants.

“Okay, alright,” Your breath stutters when Din grinds over your cock, already tenting in the confines of your pants. Between you and Din’s relationship, the both of you haven't truly moved on from scalding touches and helping each other get off by hand. This is a new territory for Din, and you have to make sure he feels safe and comfortable in your embrace. 

You carefully slide him out of his trousers along with his briefs and discard it with the same pile as his top, feeling his strong thighs shake underneath your touch. Fumbling for the bottle of lube, you pour just enough on your hand and warm it up a bit, before following Din’s tailbone down to the top of his arse. He shivers, whining into your shoulder as he feels your digits ghosts over his hole, already squirming in your hold. 

“Come on, please,” He begs, nails scratching at your back. You slowly insert one finger, the tip first, letting the Din situate himself to the foreign feeling. He groans, burying himself deeper between the crook of your neck, his mandibles digging slightly at your jaw. The lube easies your finger to push more, deeper, until you hear his high pitch, broken moan, then slowly push in another. At that, he jerks his head to the side, chest still flushed with yours. 

When you begin scissoring, Din throws his head back, arches into your touch, which beckons you to chase him, biting at the now exposed column of his neck, making sure to leave marks no one but you know and Din could feel. Din feels delirious, deeply intoxicated from both your fingers and the feeling of your warm mouth pressing over sensitive skin and old scars, jolting each time you bite down or kiss longer to leave darker spots. He scarcely remembers moaning out broken syllables that should form your name, making your hold on his hips tighten, squeezing the scarred skin. 

After deeming it enough prep, you carefully pull your fingers out, pressing kisses on the planes of your boyfriend's chest, feeling him take ragged breaths, a steady hue of red throughout his body. You shuffle to discard your pants, hissing when you feel the cold air hit your heated skin. You could feel Din growing impatient, if the way he squirms could be interpreted as that, so you tug your pants off and align yourself under Din. 

“Slowly baby, slowly,” You remind him, his thigh shaking with anticipation. Hands holding under his thigh, making sure gravity doesn't take hold, you lower Din’s shivering body, inch by inch. The tight heat of his hole almost stutters your hold, making you groan, feeling the head of your cock inside him. You can feel Dins graps digs into your shoulders as he gasps.

Finally, your thighs are flushed with Dins, feeling the man shudder above you as you try to regain some sort of composure, breathing in shaking breaths. Din claws his way from your pellicals to your chest, making red rivers across your chest. You groan, pushing into his touch, which in turn shifts where you sat, enough to make your boyfriend shiver.

"M-move." He manages. "Move, please." 

"Anything for you mesh'la," You say as your teeth dangerously ghosts over his pulse. 

Planting your feet on the metal floor, you suppress the cold that shoots up your bones and instead focus on holding Din upright, thrusting into him with each movement. His arms shakes, moves back to grip the control panel, his scarred knuckles a hue lighter. A deep growl rumbles through you when you feel Din’s hole clenching around you, raking blunt teeth across his chest. You trail reverent kisses across a deep scar that runs from his left clavicle to just under his abdomen, Din shivers. In a more tender moment, slowed down after release with the two of you tangled together, you would've asked what those scars meant, wondering about the stories of your boyfriend's life. Maybe later, much later in the night.

When you hear a mewl, almost a hurt sound coming from the man currently flushed on top of you, your lips curls into a sharp grin, before hauling Din from gripping at the ships console to fall into your grasp, his arms immediately around your neck with a choked gasp from the sudden change. With the chair supporting both of your weight, you have the advantage to claw at Din’s hips, digging calloused fingers into his skin, using your strength to push Din up and down.   

You feel yourself nearing the edge, with Din clenching around you it’s hard to keep up the pace. The side of his helmet would leave an angry mark on your shoulder, making you grunt when Din lets out a broken whimper and buries his head to the crook of your neck. “C-close, baby,”

“Me too…” He lets out a breathy moan when your hand finds his dick, pumping it hastily, pushing him to his limit.

“Stars i-” You stutter when Din clenches around you. “Fuck- Wish i can kiss you,” 

Slip of a tongue. Shit. 

Your movement falters, a shiver shoots up when Din pulls his head back, dark visors looking straight to you, assessing you. 

"Din i-" But before you could sputter out a reason, an apology for forsaking the trust he gave you, darkness suddenly envelops your vision, rendering you blind. Dins hand covers your eyes, you could feel his calluses over your skin.

Then, as if a searing star itself break the atmosphere, you feel slightly chapped lips against yours, a tickle of stubble and- Is that a mustache? 

Din grunts into your mouth, realizing you still have one hand wrapped around him. He moans, moving with your thrusts, his kiss devouring your gasps as you push at him, deepening it. His tongue traces yours and confidently moves in, effectively rendering your brain into a short-circuit. Your mind briefly wonders how such a reserved man has this much skill in kissing, he’s no virgin but surely he hasn't kissed anyone beside you. Then he bites at your lower lip before bringing you deeper again with a hand on your nape, and all hell breaks loose.

You growl into the kiss, basking in the whimper he lets out as your hand moves faster and thrust grows sloppier, but definitely still hitting that spot that makes Din scream. He pulls back, inhaling sharply when you bite lightly on his jaw, feeling the hair that decorate it. Oh you’d worship him just to see his debauched face without being blind, and the thought is enough to make you cum. 

You feel yourself release inside Din’s warmth, making him shiver and let out a broken moan of your name. With your hand jerking him off, he follows suit, throwing his head back, painting his chest with strings of pearly cum. Once spent, he slumps into your embrace, helmet already in place and breathing raggedly next to your ear. You pry his hand off your eyes and press a kiss to the sliver of neck you could reach. 

Blinking away the little dots from your eyes being closed and pressed by his hand, you slowly steady your breath as you rub circles on Dins pelicals and lower back, feeling him sigh and melt at your touch. You can't help to let out a chuckle, which earns you a questioning sound from your boyfriend. 

“Nothing, just…” You smile, licking at your lips, trying to savor Din’s taste. “Best kiss I've ever had.”

That made him chuckle, nuzzling the cool helmet against the side of your neck. “Me too.”

Your smile widens, closing your eyes and simply letting the warmth of after-sex wafts through the cockpit. Speaking of which, you should probably clean up and sleep in the proper sleeping pod. The seat, plush as it is, won't do your back any good. So you reach for your scattered pants, looking for the fabric you always keep in your back pocket. When you finally find it, you shift Din a bit to clean up the mess that went up to both his and your chest, then carefully pull out of the man, making you groan as he shivers, wiping down what leaks out of him and the remaining lube around your length. 

Standing up and making your way down takes another effort, but nothing you can't do for Din, sleepy and content Din in your arms. Pushing the button to open the sleeping pod, you set him down on the edge of it before handing him a bottle of water.

“Drink, love,” You grin, before busying yourself on the table where another water bottle is kept and downing it. You hear the hushed shh of Dins helmet as it’s being taken off, then the cap of the water bottle turning. You swallow another gulp of water, before flashes of earliers heated kiss shocks you and makes you choke on the water slightly. You cough, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before closing the bottle and setting it back. 

“You uh… Done?” You clear your throat.

“Yeah,” You nod, turning back to see Dins helmet back on and him extending his arm, returning the bottle to you. You set it on the table and push him back to lie down in the pod. It’s always been a tight fit with both you and your boyfriend sleeping in it, but you make do.

When the doors are shut and the lights turned off, another hiss of Dins helmet makes your heart thump harder, but he shifts to place it on a small compartment off to the side and lays his head on your chest, one arm around you. You hook your arm around him, the other playfully raking through his curls. You could tell just from how it coils around your fingers, Din practically purring into your touch like a Loth Cat. You grin, pressing a kiss to his forehead before shifting to get comfortably on the pillow. 

“Good night, Din'ika,”

“Good night, Cyar’ika,” 

Cyar'ika: Darling, beloved, sweetheart 

Kar'ta: Heart

Mesh'la: beautiful

Requests are open! 

[winteriron-trash]

pinned faq

hi, my name is roman. i used to be a semi-popular winteriron blog, but now this blog is mostly dead. so. rip, gone but not forgotten. but i still get some pretty common questions so here's a one-stop shop for most of them as well as links to the important things.

My Tumblr Fic Masterlist

My Ao3

My (dead) WinterIron Discord Server

Did you write the Tony Stark wifi tower fic?

yes, i wrote that fic! it is by far the most popular thing i've ever written and it will probably outlive me.

I found that fic on [insert site here], do they have your permission?

probably not, no. i have found that fic everywhere. and i mean everywhere. pinterest, wattpad, facebook, instagram, tiktok, mediachomp, and so on. honestly, it's been years and i can't control or chase down every single copy and i have no interest in doing so. i don't love that it was stolen from me (especially on for-profit sites) but it just is what it is. it's a fanfic rite of passage to have your stuff stolen, honestly.

can i do a translation/podfic/write something inspired by one of your fics/posts?

yes! there is always a blanket permission to do any sort of transformative work with my work, especially my older stuff. if it sparks joy and creativity in you, run wild with it. i prefer to be credited, but honestly, i'm just happy to see my stuff still inspiring people.

will you ever write winteriron/mcu fanfic again?

well, you should never say never. but in this case, you might want to say never. i have very little interest in winteriron or the mcu in general outside of nostalgia, and i likely will never write anything substantial for them again. it's sad, i miss it too, but i just don't have that spark for marvel these days. mostly i write dc comics fanfiction.

did you write [insert winteriron fic/post here]?

idk. maybe. probably. i wrote and posted a lot of things. you can scroll the tag on this blog to find all my old posts, some more popular than others. if you think it was me, chances are, it probably was. i got around a lot from like 2018 to 2020.

do you have a tagging system?

i used to but lord if i'm going to use it now. i don't even remember it, so your guess is as good as mine. tbh i just use tags as a place to ramble these days so navigating my blog is about as easy for you as it is for me. which is to say, it's not easy at all. because tumblr's search function is ass. i do know one of my old tags has my deadname in it. you'll probably find it if you look hard enough, but that is what it is.

are you going to revive this blog?

probably not consistently, no. if i have something i really want to say here, i'll say it, but i don't have much interest in maintaining this like i used to. i want to be able to, i miss posting here a lot, i just don't think it'll spark joy for me the way it used to, which sucks but that's just the way things go.

why did you leave this blog?

idk. life happened. i was an 18-year-old fighting chronic health conditions and mental health issues that led to me dropping out of high school so, tumblr sort of fell to the back burner, then got forgotten about entirely. eventually, i lost interest in the mcu as i felt the quality of it took a turn for the worst and i went back to dc, which i'm still into. i read some marvel comics, enjoy an occasional mcu project, but largely i just don't have the interest i used to. it sucks and i miss it, this blog probably kept me alive as a teenager. but now it's mostly just an archive of my past, and i'm okay with that.

can i talk to you/send you an ask/befriend you anyway?

sure, if you want, don't know if i'm good company though. but i'm always open to making friends and reminiscing about winteriron, marvel, and all that good stuff. i've gotta warn you though, tumblr fucking eats my DMs on this blog like no fucking business. i'm regularly fighting it. my discord is devilbonesofmetal if you wanna yell at me there, just say you're from tumblr.

[someprettyname]

＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚. ❗❗GOTTA PIN IT❗❗　˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊

BEFORE YOU INTERACT

⚠️ This user vents, yaps, whines and rants a lot. ⚠️

⚠️ HANDLE WITH CARE. I'M SENSITIVE. ⚠️

[ This post is subject to change, everytime i add a point i will reblog it so y'all know ┏⁠(⁠＾⁠0⁠＾⁠)⁠┛ ]

>>> Mira/Nami/any pretty name

Just know that you'd have a special place in my heart of you assign me a unique nickname. That's what my URL and overall blog theme is about 😌 my name is the pretty name hehe :]

>>> I spam reblog often, i have a proper tagging system but just beware of that before you follow me.

When I say spam reblogging i MEAN spam reblogging. Fanarts, analysis, fic (self written and reblogs), interactions with mutuals and others, RPing with blue lockers and/or others, thirsting - EVERYTHING. I DUMP EVERYTHING on here.

>>> Late replies (advance apologies)

If I ever don't reply to something you tagged me in that's because I might've missed it among my other notifs, not because I'm ignoring it. { I try to reply to everything, I love interacting with people. Bear with me, please. } Sometimes, replying to certain things takes me days to a week. So that too. Saying this so you know what you're getting yourself into, i wouldn't want you overthinking my reply time unless we are in a conflict/argument.

>>> SUPER SELECTIVE follow backs.

Sometimes, I love a blog but don't follow it because you might be reblogging stuff I don't want to see on my dash. Just that. No hard feelings. Related to that : If I call you my moot YOU ARE MY MOOT. That's how it is in here, i don't have to follow you back for that. In my mind you are my sweet moot. Period. I'm a believer in "moots in spirit" concept 😌 I don't mind people asking me to be moots, but if I ignore your request please do take the hint. Also, if you're asking me to be moots always send the ask off anon so I can reply privately in case I'm saying no.

>>> DO NOT DM before asking me/until I do it myself.

If I've closed my inbox then comment on any of my post/pinned post to ask me but NEVER DM me before asking me/unless I've given a green flag beforehand. If my ask box is open and you'd rather communicate over DM just shoot me an ask and if I feel like it I'll DM you first. Point to note when you're shooting me an ask for DMing is to be considerate and put the ball in my court rather than making it a yes/no consent question. There's a difference. If you ever DM me without asking and you're someone I've never talked with in DM/discord before then I WILL have to block you. Don't be surprised. As much I'd hate to do that, you've already broken my boundary once and I'm not going to sit and hope you don't do it a second time. I have already compromised once in the past with someone and it turned out ugly.

>>> NOT SPOILER FREE

Don't come at me for not tagging the spoilers.

>>> I reblog NSFW, be warned.

Minors who interact with me, please be responsible. I don't really want to have a MDNI criteria for a few bad and irresponsible cases.

>>> I self ship with multiple characters, do NOT shame me in any way.

Self shipping/thirsting/simping is my way to show an appreciation for a character, it should be obvious that it does NOT reflect how I approach things in real life so when you shame me over it any way (yes, playful jokes included) it puts me in a tough spot. It makes me uncomfortable in my skin, don't do that. Don't be the one who spoils my experience here. I'll ignore such comments, and if you keep doing it again and again know that you'd only be DAMAGING your relationship with me. Period.

>>> Journaling personal thoughts.

This place is my safe space at this point so I'll often write out and post my personal thoughts here. #shitpost - is for general light-hearted stuff/ranting, thoughts that I'm fine sharing with others. #chatter - random passing thoughts (I'm mostly being crackhead in that tag honestly) , not meant for others to see but it's fine if you see and comment on it. Idm. #diary - self explanatory, can have heavy traumatic stuff under the tag, again - not meant for others to see but it's fine if you see and comment on it. Idm. If I don't want people to see something/interact with a particular post I'll mention it in the post!! Another pointer is that I'm a sanatani through and through so I'll post about stuff related to hinduism in general (occasionally), if that triggers you or you're not a believer feel free to block the tags #desiblr and #hindublr.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: sleepy af

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“You need a box, doll?” Bucky flutters his fingers toward your plate, “you don’t gotta finish all that.” 

You look down at the untouched half of your sandwich. You’d barely poked at the pesto salad on the side either. You can’t help it; your stomach is swirling like a storm. Aside from that, you’re so self-aware that you make certain each bite is tidy and small.  

You bring the napkin to your lips before you answer, “oh, sure, I guess. Um, thank you.” 

“You have a big breakfast?” He wonders as he lifts his glass, squinting at its emptiness. 

“I...” you sniff. You didn’t eat at all. “I’m too nervous.” 

You cringe as your honestly flows free. You don’t know why you said that. Maybe it’s the similarly empty glass in front of you. He smiles, his dimples showing handsomely on his bearded cheeks. 

“You don’t gotta be,” he sets the glass down, his forearm across the table. “Is it me? I make you nervous.” 

You look away and cup your chin. You purse your lips and inhale slowly. You dare to face him again. You nod into your hand. 

“What about me makes you nervous?” He wonders, his eyes sparkling. It has to be obvious. So obvious that he must be teasing you. 

“You know,” you murmur. 

“Genuinely curious,” he clears his expression and sits back, “we’re having a good time. Good chat. So... you’re nervous, why?” 

“Because you’re...” your brows squiggle, “you. I’m just me.” 

“And what’s so bad about being just you?” 

You scoff, “I think... maybe you made a mistake. I’m not... anything.” 

“What does that mean?” He prompts. 

Before you can answer, Hailee appears. The slim server offers you a refill. Bucky waits for you to answer first. You decline and he puts his hand over his own glass. 

“We’ll take the cheque,” he says and she flits off to do his bidding. He returns his attention to you before you can shrink further, “well... what do you mean?” 

Your eye drift evasively. He just latches on and doesn’t let go. It’s overwhelming. You watch Hailee as she taps the tablet on the bar top across the roof. You glance at Bucky again. 

“I’m not tall or thin or a supermodel,” you say quietly. He leans in as he tilts his head thoughtfully. 

“If I wanted that, that’s who would be sitting here with me. I don’t mind that you’re a little small. It’s... I like it, actually. And a supermodel? Doll, those types got nothing on you.” 

You touch your cheeks then drag your hands away, “thanks, but...” 

“But?” He echoes. 

“Nothing. Nothing,” you assure him meekly, “I just... I’m not sure about all this.”  

Hailee once more returns. She hands Bucky the bill and he doesn’t even look at it as he slides his wallet out of his pocket. He hands her his card and the slip of paper. Once more, she’s off. 

“Not sure?” He says. 

“Sorry, I just...” once more you look at the server as she swipes his card. When you look back, Bucky’s watching you intently, “please keep your money. You paid for lunch, that’s enough.” 

“But doll--” 

“Please, I don’t feel right taking it,” you put your palms out and drop your hands, “thank you for lunch but I’m not cut out for this.” 

“Hm,” he clicks his tongue and leans his chin on his knuckles, “don’t decide right now. I get it. It’s a lot at once. So think about it and get back to me.” 

“I... I’m telling you,” you wilt, “I don’t think... I’m not what you think I am.” 

“I have no idea what you are, doll,” he extends his fingers under his chin, “but I like what I see and I want more.” 

You shakily bring your hand to your neck. He can’t mean it. He can’t want you. No way. If you say yes, how long does that last? You didn’t come here for lunch or an ‘arrangement’. You need a job. You need something sustainable. 

Besides, you never thought you’d ever consider being a prostitute. That’s what he’s suggesting, isn’t it? You’re pathetic but you have some standards. 

You sigh. You said no once, maybe more, maybe not firmly enough, but he’s not hearing you. So you will ‘think about it’ and repeat yourself later. 

“Alright,” you agree as you lean back and pull your hands into your lap. 

“All I’m asking for is a chance,” he says. Your heart pulses tightly. He’s asking you? “Let’s get your leftovers packed up and I'll take you home.” 

“Oh, uh, I can get a cab--” 

“Nah,” he waves you off, “I’m here. Merv’s gotta get me back to the casino as it is.” 

🃏

“You’ll call me, won’t you, doll?” Bucky asks as Merv stops outside the curb of your mother’s house. 

You peek up through the tinted window and back at the man beside you. He shamelessly has his arm stretched over the seat above your shoulders, the scent of his cologne invading your nostrils. You nod dumbly before you process his words. 

“Yeah, I will,” you assure him as you undo your seat belt and untangle your purse from the strap. 

“Don’t leave me hanging,” he pulls his arm away and brushes your shoulder then down your sleeve. 

“I won’t, like I said... I’ll think about it,” you reach for the handle and he hums. 

“I had a good time. I like talking to you, doll.” 

You stop yourself from fleeing like you so desperately want to do. You turn back to him. You’re struck by him, not for the first time. Someone like him noticed you and did all this. It feels like you’re drowning. You can barely think straight. 

 “Me too. It was really nice,” you breathe. 

He stares at your, almost expectantly, and his lips curve slightly. Are you forgetting something? Heat speckles over your cheeks. Is he leaning in? 

“Hey, don’t forget your leftovers,” he sits back and reaches to the other side of the seat, picking up the box. 

“Oh, thanks,” you take it, your fingers touching his. 

“Don’t let me keep you, ‘cause I will,” he winks, “I’m sure you got someone waiting for you.” 

“Uh, yeah, my mom won’t be home yet but...” you suppress your irrelevant thoughts. You’ll give the sandwich and salad and to Roxie. She never complains for free food. “Yeah, er, thanks.” 

He chuckles and claps his hand down on your leg, “too sweet, doll. It’s my pleasure and there’s a lot more where that came from.” He squeezes and removes his hand, “just making a last-ditch case for myself.” He inhales and his shoulders rise and he fixes his collar, “have a good one, alright? Take it easy, think...” 

“I will,” you affirm once more, “er, bye.” 

You open the door and barely keep from tripping onto the curb. You peer back one last time and attempt a smile, trying to hide the sinking pit in your chest. You don’t need to think about it. You simply cannot give him what he wants. 

You shut the door and back up. You stand cluelessly and wait. When the car doesn’t move, you spin and scurry away. God, how much more awkward can you get? 

You resist the urge to look back as you let yourself in through the front door. The TV babbles from the next room as you twist the lock. Roxie lazes across the couch as the fan oscillates over her. The summer heat has the space stuffy and sticky. The rented house doesn’t have central air and the portable AC crapped out last year. 

“Hey,” you come up to the back of the couch, your anxiety still buzzing behind your ears. You feel different and you feel like she’ll sense it in an instant. You almost want her to say something. 

She doesn’t look away from the screen as she grumbles back at you. 

“Um, mom’s not home yet, right?” 

“Don’t think so,” she yawns, her arm draped above her head against the arm rest. “It’s like three. You sleep all day?” 

You frown. She usually sleeps later, granted, she works until sunlight most nights. 

“No, I had an interview.” 

“Huh, Wendy’s?” She asks. It’s probably an innocent question and a fair assumption, but it still cuts like an insult. 

“No, uh, whatever, I don’t think I got it.” 

“Too bad,” she says. 

You leave her. She’s too enraptured with her reality TV binge. You suppose if you were just waiting to start working, you might just want to shut off too. That’s exactly what you want in that moment. To stop thinking about everything. 

It’s not just Bucky and his offer or whatever you should call it. It’s about your mom and Roxie and being the resident disappointment. You don’t like being dead weight but it seems like it’s all you’ll ever be. There’s more than just yourself to think about in this and yet you just can’t see yourself saying yes. 

You don’t really know what you’re saying yes to. What is it exactly that Bucky wants from you? Sunny lunches and conversations about disco music? You don’t think that’s it but you’re too afraid to think about the implication behind his proposition. 

So you won’t. You won’t-- you can’t accept it. You can’t bring yourself to do... that for money. If you did and your mother ever knew the truth, you shudder to think. No, you can tell an easier lie. 

Sorry, mom, didn’t pan out. Again. But I’ve been applying all around. I’ll get something. 

🃏

The first text Bucky sends, you respond to. It’s the same day as your interview. No, that’s not what it was. He sends a good night and you echo the sentiment. It’s easier to pretend behind a screen. 

You don’t sleep well despite his tidings. You toss and turn and don’t drag yourself out of bed until noon. Your mom’s already at work and you can’t stand to face her. Not since you told her it was another dead end. Roxie’s snoring in her room. 

You go out on the back steps and sit in the sun. It’s all muddled. You know you shouldn’t. You won’t. That’s not you. And even if you could find the courage to say yes, you’re just not that girl. You aren’t the one to be flaunted on a rich guy’s arm. Or the kind to go for manicures and to wear layers of contour. And that’s what he’ll want, even if he says now, it isn’t. Men just want pretty things and you’re not. 

The days pass in a similar idle daze. Every night, he texts. A little back and forth but you say you’re tired and check out after his usual, ‘sweet dreams, doll.’ Two days, three days, four, five, six. A whole week and you know that you have to say it. No. It’s almost as hard as a yes would be. 

When the ‘good morning’ pops up in your notifications, you’re frozen. You can’t even fake it. You can’t hit the automated reply generated by the app. You just lock your phone and put it in your nightstand drawer. You’re a coward, just like you’ve always been. 

You scroll through the job boards. You’ve been spending most of your waking hours trawling them. The postings don’t come as quickly as you apply. Some, you’re sure, you’ve submitted your resume to at least twice. Well, that shows dedication, right? 

You hear your mom come home just after five. You finally sit up from your chronic hunch and groan at the pang between your shoulders. Ugh, that’s not good. You get up and come out as your mother sighs and drops her purse on the table. 

“Hey, I took some drumsticks out,” you say, “I’m gonna do the buffalo sauce.” 

“Oh, hon, that’s amazing, I’m so tired,” she drops into a chair and props a foot on her knee, rubbing her arch, “I need new insoles.” 

You watch her guiltily, chewing your lip. Even if you’re not going to say yes, you almost wish you’d taken that thousand dollars. She wouldn’t have to do overtime so much. You cross your arms. 

“What do you want with it? We got some of the crinkle fries or--” 

The doorbells chimes and you hesitate. It isn’t often it rings. Not for anyone by the landlord on an impromptu visit. You peer over at the same time as your mom. She sends you a curious look as she stands. 

She hobbles away and you feel guilty for letting her. You shy away and wait by the counter. You listen to her footfalls and the schlock of the front door latch as she slides it back. It opens with the usual squeak and you hold your breath as you listen. A low drone meets your mother’s exhausted hello. 

Oh. It wouldn’t be... It can’t be. You assure yourself that you don’t recognise the timbre but even your denial isn’t that strong.  

Slowly, you make your way to the hall and creep down towards your mom as she keeps the door half-way shut against her. It’s him. You hear him say your name. Oh gosh. 

“I’m just following up on her interview. I called but maybe her battery died?” Bucky says. 

You wince and near your mom. 

“Uh, yes, she’s here, I’ll just go--” 

“Mom,” you interject and she jumps in surprise. 

“Oh,” she trills with laughter, “there she is.” 

She lets the door open as you step up next to her, your chest fraught with dread. You stare at Bucky as his blue eyes bore into you. Your mom touches your elbow gently. You’re suddenly overly conscious of your pajama pants and baggy tee. 

“I’ll let you two... chat,” she retreats and leaves you there to his mercy. You can’t beg her to stay without giving yourself away. 

As she heads back down the hall, you step outside and draw the door shut. You know better than to trust her not to eaves drop. How many times had she listened through the doorway when Roxie had one of her boyfriends over. 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky crosses his arms. Is he mad? Does he know you were ignoring him or does he really think your phone died?

“Hi, uh...” 

“You didn’t answer my texts,” he intones. 

“Um, yeah, I... I’ve been... distracted.” 

He nods, a skeptical wrinkle in his forehead, “sure. It's been a week, lots of time to think.” 

You gape up at him. He wants an answer. Now. You have one, but you just can’t say it. You’re silent as tension roils in the humid air. He swoops back a dark lock but doesn’t break his gaze. 

“Look, I... I appreciate your offer and everything else but what you’re asking... if my mom knew...” 

“Hm, yeah,” he puts his hands on his hips, “I thought of that too. You’re a sweet thing and I can see she loves you. It’s unorthodox but I only wanna take care you. Not everyone will understand that.” 

“Right, so I don’t think--” 

“Well, I think she’d be more suspicious if you walked in there and told her I came all the way here not to offer you a job,” he insists, “don’t you?” 

“Y-yeah, but--” you sputter. 

“So, she doesn’t need to know why I’m here, does she? You can tell her you’re working at the casino.” 

“Sure, but I don’t...” you shake your head and look down. He’s right.  

If you tell your mom you missed out on another job, you don’t think you could ever look her in the eye again. It wouldn’t just be another let down but an actual lie. You have an opportunity here. Maybe not the one you thought, but it’s money. After years of living off your mom’s hard work, you owe her. What’s a secret to her not having to work twelves? 

“We get along, don’t we?” He asks. 

You nod. He’s been less than unkind. You can’t really name a single fault on his part. 

“So, I don’t get it. The money, it’s just a bonus,” he explains, “don’t think of it as me paying you to spend time with me, so much as us enjoying each other and both getting the perks from that.” 

“But... but...” you wet your lips with your tongue and clamp them tight. 

He’s cornered you. If you had a few more hours, you could’ve found the strength to take your phone out and type out your rejection but face-to-face? You’re hopeless and you think he knows that. He watches you expectantly. He isn’t hoping, he knows. 

You blow out between your lips and turn your head away, “she can’t ever know.” 

“Doll, for you, I'll keep my lips sealed,” he says, “whatever you want, you got it. That’s the deal.” 

[room-surprise]

Hi there, I’ve been reading your Kabumisu fic (SMHTGOTG) and I am obsessed!!! I love the way you interpret Kabru’s and Mithrun’s personalities and adapt their stories to a modern world. I can’t wait to see more of Mithrun’s past and them meeting the Laios gang!

I truly feel like you gave them the love and depth that Ryoko Kui wants for her characters. I really appreciate it after seeing more one-dimensional takes about Dunmeshi characters on twitter (of course it’s twitter) and even tumblr as the series got more popular.

Kui put so much effort in creating a beautiful and heartfelt story, trying her best to reflect complicated social issues through fantasy setting, showing how characters with varied backgrounds/ races overcome prejudices, grow to respect each other’s differences and how human they all are deep down, all while encouraging fans to care for their health, but all some people zoom in is which race is the most obviously problematic, which race is allowed a free pass to hold prejudice, which character is not that great actually did you not know they were racist at some point in the story??? (Growth? Never heard of her. Ignorance? That’s a CRiME!)

Ironically, all of that just reminds me of how performative the canaries are when they act all shocked and offended about Mithrun stating the slur the elves used to say all the time

(So sorry for the long rant 😭, I just really appreciate your fic and the analysis your made about Dunmeshi among the increasing bad faith takes)

OMG... Anon thank you so much for writing to me! This absolutely made my day. You're very sweet. Honestly I have the best readers in the world you're all paying such close attention to what I write and picking up what I put down, and that makes me so so so happy 😭

The #1 thing I ask myself while I'm planning and writing my fics is "does this feel like something that would happen in Dungeon Meshi?" And I guess I'm doing an OK job of that because people keep telling me what my writing feels like :D

And you are 100% right, there's always been bad takes and oversimplifications of the world and characters of Dungeon Meshi like what you're describing, but since it's getting more popular that means more people are talking about it, which unfortunately means, statistically, that there are going to be more bad takes…

On the positive side, there's also been lots of wonderful new fic and art that people are making, and lots of good takes too! Just a bit frustrating to wade through the swamp of bad stuff to get to the treasure.

Gotta just try hard to stay positive and focus on making good stuff you love, and not stressing about stuff that's bad and makes you upset.

And never apologize for writing me a long message!!! I agree with everything you said and I was so happy to read this when I got up this morning, so thank you for taking the time to write to me. You can write or DM me any time (though obviously you can't stay anon if you're DMing me lol)

[thedragonagebigbang]

Bang Creator Interview: Tumblr: @crabs-with-sticks  |  AO3: CrabsWithSticks

The Collaboration period has begun! In these quiet months before works are due, we want to foster a sense of excitement, camaraderie, and celebration among our participants. To that end, all participants were given the option of a formal interview by our mod, Dema, or an informal “ask-game” survey. We hope you enjoy getting to know our phenomenal creators as much as we have!

Found Family in Crisis!!!!!! How This Local Woman's Life Just Keeps Getting Worse!!!  

Jacs and Dema talk music, tragedy, DMing tabletop games, and OCs who won't follow the damn rules

Dema: Good morning! Happy Saturday. Are you writing today? 

Jacs: I'm hoping to! Though I might be taking a break from my actual project to do some fun oneshots. Give myself a bit of time away from the tragedy of my bang fic and write something happy haha

Dema: That is very fair! Especially with heavier fics. How do you get in the zone to write, regardless of the project? Or does it vary depending on the vibes of your fic?

Jacs: Normally it involves getting nice and cozy under a blanket on the couch with a good cup of tea. I'll sometimes put a playlist on to get into a particular vibe, I've got a bunch of character playlists which can help get into the perspective of whatever oc I'm writing that day.

Dema: I won't get too specific with this question but, if there is one song on your playlist that especially fits your bang fic, what would it be?

Jacs: Hmm, I'd say probably 'Sampson' by Regina Spektor. The song is based on a tragic biblical story and is all about what could have happened if things had worked out differently. If the love had been enough to save them, then they wouldn't have been remembered by history but they would have been happy.

Dema: Oh okay, arrow straight to the heart. I see, I see.

Jacs: Yeah, I'm a known tragedy enjoyer, just rolling around in the sadness like a dog in a puddle. In order to get optimal levels of tragedy you gotta have some happiness first just so that readers can really see that it didn't have to be this way (but they never could have changed it).

Dema: I can't wait to read it! I also love tragedy, and especially in that ratio. Is there a particular one-shot idea you have kicking around, to cleanse the palate?

Jacs: Not sure! Though probably something with my oc Luca Trevelyan with Dorian, though I haven't actually managed to get very far through that particular playthrough yet....I'm a bit of a serial oc creator who then never gets around to actually playing them in the game.

Dema: Do you always make your OCs in game? Even if you don't get around to the playthrough? 

Jacs: Yep! It’s probably my favourite part of Dragon Age, or any CRPG. I really like thinking up characters, with their conflicts and histories. I'm a forever DM in real life, so I'm fairly used to making up characters and then never playing them, although at least with Dragon Age I already know the events of the game they'll be going through, so I have a better idea of their development arcs. I am trying to do a re-playthrough of the whole series before Veilguard comes out, but we'll see how successful that is haha.

Dema: Do you find that DMing has informed the way you structure your stories?

Jacs: I'd say that it probably has. When I DM I'm always keeping a hand on the pulse of all the characters, their emotions and where they're at in their arcs, because my aim is really to tell a good story. So I think it can help me to see things from the big picture as well as a more mechanical perspective. Though sometimes I do need to tell myself to stop looking at the big picture and just focus on what is at hand.

Dema: I'm a bit in awe of DMs. To me it seems like being the conductor of an orchestra, except all your musicians are improvising. Do your characters sometimes feel like players? Or do they tend to stay within the lines?

Jacs: They do end up getting away from me sometimes, or they'll do something that leaves me going 'huh, why did you just make that decision', because I know it's accurate but I'm not entirely sure why. Though sadly there's no actual player to ask...just my brain. I was intending to make quite a whimsical and happy Brosca, but she just keeps doing morally grey things!

Dema: HAHA ah yes, relatable. I find it's such an interesting balance, for me, between wanting everything in the story to feel a bit inevitable (especially in a tragedy!) and embracing the realism of some things just not having a clear explanation, especially character decisions.

Jacs: Yeah for sure! It's great when characters are messy and contradictory, I just wish it wasn't so hard...I had a character at one point who was making a whole bunch of decisions I wasn't expecting or had planned for, and I'd try to think 'ok why is this character doing this?' and all she supplied in return was 'I'm lactose intolerant'...which honestly was a very in character response; just straight up ignoring the question. 

Dema: A character in writing, or a character in a campaign you were DMing?

Jacs: A character I was writing.

Dema: Hahaha, incredible.

Jacs: I sometimes have, I guess little 'conversations' with my characters in my head where I tap into the section of my brain that they live in.

Dema: That's a great strategy! Is that how your characters first come to be?

Jacs: Hmm, I think the conversation part comes a bit later when I have some context for them, either in their history or in the game itself. It starts off as a lot of collaging together different ideas until it makes a full character. Often I start off from a particular theme or emotional angle I'm interested in exploring. So one started off as 'religious trauma', and another from 'idealism in a cruel society' and so on.

Dema: Has that first theme or idea ever come from a really unexpected source? And related to this, do you tend to be primarily inspired by the source material itself? I know that's a big reason so many of us love DA in particular.

Jacs: I think the themes are usually all ideas that I'm already interested in, but it's super fun seeing the way it can connect to the worldbuilding and lore. I think it's really important for characters to have specifics which tie them into the world around them, so thinking about how their family might have lived in the particular part of the world they're from, how they and the people around them either adhere to or go against it, and what impact that would have on their story. It's really fun looking at how a theme can change based on where the character comes from, like a character with conflict based around religious trauma is going to be different if they're human, Dalish or a city elf, and the world will react to them differently because of that.

Dema: Now I simply must ask you if you ever write AU fics.

Jacs: I haven't written many to be honest, though I do have some ideas for some. It can be hard translating a story that is really rooted in the specifics of one particular world and translating that to another. So I'm always really impressed to see when other people do it so well! I often find you can find a good parallel for one aspect of a character, but then you have to try to fit a second aspect or character conflict in and it doesn't fit the new world at all!

Dema: I feel the same!

Jacs: Writing; it's hard man.

Dema: It is! So why do you do it!? And a follow-up question: writing is hard, and you're signed up for a Big Bang! What made you interested? Is it your first one or have you done this before?

Jacs: It's like a wonderful little puzzle; except it can be all wibbly wobbly and just like real life it doesn't always need to make sense- it's lovely just to embrace the humanness of character writing!

So a bit of context, I recently finished postgraduate studies, and realised I didn't have any hobbies! I used to love creative writing of any sort when I was but a young whippersnapper (they say, in their mid 20s), so I decided to embrace the cringe and get back at it. I've never participated in any fandom events, or even written something this long that wasn't academic! But I'm really loving the community around this event and getting to chat to other writers as we all write (and suffer) together!

Dema: In the last minutes, and just for fun: can you come up with a click-bait title for your fic? Without giving anything major away, of course.

Jacs: Maybe something like 'Found Family in Crisis!!!!!! How This Local Woman's Life Just Keeps Getting Worse!!!’  (To quote the venerable Sir Terry Prattchet: And all those exclamation marks, you notice? Five? A sure sign of someone who wears his underpants on his head.)

Dema: Ten out of Ten, would click again. Thank you so much for setting aside this time to chat with me!

Jacs: No worries! I had a great time!

[soukokumychildren]

I. ABSOLOUTLY. ADORE YOUR IDEA WITH YOUR AU SO MUCHhhhhaaaaah!! ✨✨✨✨🖤🖤

Chuuya having WINGS!!? Even though he could in somee way fly before already, it feels so different with wings!! Like really cool!!

(( I have always Liked wings -

Is your AU going to follow the main time-line of the show? Like, the illustrations you've posted sure does look like it-- (love them- love this idea-) ((Soukoku Reunion where Chuuya has feathers!!? ✨)

Wait, wait, wait, No- dont spoil anything..! (maybe just a little yes or no- that wouldn't really spoil anything—) I will find out as I read—!

I mainly wanted to say I'm really looking forward to reading this!!

It's my first BSD AU where it follows the main time-line - just differently- as well! A thing I really like!!

Well, if it really does ofc, but It sure does look like it—Arg, I gotta just continue reading soon——

Even if it don't this seems really interesting already!!!

Ahem, anyhow, this became a bit long- I wanted to expres my excitement about this-especially after, you even looked at some of my BSD stuff after I followed you!!!!

Thank you soo much!✨ That became the last push to write this little too long text, that isn't really a question, but more like a thank you-ahh im excited for this-- that I had already considered writing to you after I started reading😅😅👍

This entire post just made my day and while I could I'd rather not risk dying from lightheadedness from spinning too fast in excitement in my spinny chair XDDDDD THANK YOU SO MUCH

I can't express how embarrassed I am just fshfhsgshgsghshg I have been CRAZY for wings for AGES now, and I just saw soooo many posts about how "what if Chuuya could fly Dazai" I thought, fuckers, I can make that REALITY And it is going to follow the main timeline of the show just...alot differently but at the same time trying really hard to stick to the normal plot In hindsight that means I must suffer with all my energy to watch the first season of bsd (When I first watched BSD, the first episodes were for setup, and rightfully so. That all made sense, it really put the characters together. But I watched it a second time and it dragged ON and ON and I COULDN'T STAND IT UNTIL CHUUYA CAME TO GRAB DAZAI gARgHHrhgh). I must admit I'm confused on the "Soukoku reunion where Chuuya has feathers" bit though 🤔 And currently during the plot I'm writing I have to improvise ALOT from what I know, and really this fic is also whatever the fuck I wanna write with whatever writing style I have on hand slapped into each 1K chapter so I'm really trying here LOL Also the fact when [undisclosed plot device] will be introduced, I'll be writing seperate smut for [undisclosed plot device] because I can then do WHATEVER I want wITHOUT any repercussions Hopefully I can add in [undisclosed plot device] just in a way that people will understand. Though I hear that Beast Dazai also came across [undisclosed plot device] at one point :D

I'm going SO offtopic here LMFAO And seriously? Really??? I'm surprised! I'm sure theres alot of fics that go by the timeline, I especially have run into cough ones which I liked which are specifically smut related..... and I go back to off topic I'm sorry LMAO But I'm sosoosososo glad you like it! It just means alot to me you wrote alot and now I'm just ranting because you've shown genuine interest without going off the rails (as far as I've seen) so this is pretty cool for me too!!! And I do usually look to peoples accounts who follow me (especially those who find interest in a SURPRISING amount of my stuff XD) so yeah, that's why and I found some GOOD stuff on your account too, so that's REALLY awesome. Talk to me any time! Dm me, reblog and talk to me that way, use replies, whatever the fuck! I love talking to people, and this was genuinely fun to write. :]