#there's nothing wrong with a writer not being your cup of tea

[astudyinimagination]

You know what, don't just leave that there. Maybe, instead acting in deliberate bad faith, link the article: https://www.avclub.com/steven-moffat-condemns-ai

Heck, actually, I'm a bit miffed at the AV Club because the half of the subhead is not properly attributed. So I'm just gonna copy-paste the whole thing here because it's short. But before I do that, I'm going to say that, as an actual fangirl of Moffat, I forever have to contend with two things: 1. That he always does a lot of verbal vomit when he gives interviews. To be fair, I'm not sure that I would do that much better in his shoes. 2. That he has a certain sardonic wit that has always translated very poorly in written interviews, wherein writers almost never bother to try to convey his tone. He comes across much better when you can actually hear him speak, and in full context (something that's also rare in written interviews).

Full text of the article below (which includes a link to the origin of the interview, the Radio Times), with commentary from me:

Don’t worry, Whovians—it seems like the Doctor isn’t about to regenerate into a bastardized AI version of himself any time soon. Doctor Who writers Steven Moffat and Russell T Davies recently took on the topic of generative AI in a conversation with Radio Times, and while the former acknowledged that the technology is “fascinating,” he also derided it in the most “Doctor Who writer” verbiage possible. “My son explained it to me. He said, ‘Yes, it can do all these things. It might even get quite good at them. But it takes an immense amount of power to run AI.’ Whereas you can run a human being on sunlight and a vegetable patch,” Moffat said. [See, the first half of the subhead, or article subtitle, is Moffat's son speaking, but the subhead doesn't acknowledge that, which is extremely shoddy journalism on their part.] “Human beings are amazingly cheap, we’re knocking out human beings every day.” Definitely spoken like someone who spends his days writing about anything but. [Definitely spoken like someone with a very sardonic sense of humor, which apparently this writer can't grasp. By the way, the commentary in the article means that it's editorial rather than news, in case you were wondering.]

Still, Moffat does know his human patterns. “Unlike anything else in history, the more we use it, the less good it is,” he continued. “Because the more content that is out there produced by AI, the more it absorbs its own content, and eats its own tail.”

That’s a very astute—and upsetting—prediction, but Moffat and Davies aren’t all doom and gloom. After Davies got a quip in about how “television has run on those principals (absorbing its own content) for a very long time,” Moffat continued: “That’s true, but we occasionally have a new idea. I admit, it doesn’t happen very often, certainly not in my case, but occasionally I have a new idea. But [AI] will never have a new idea. That’s not what it does.”

Davies, for one, doesn’t think the two of them will be replaced any time soon. He’s also far more optimistic about the state of television than some recent reports suggest he maybe should be. The overall number of shows on the air may be steadily decreasing, but the showrunner thinks “the rate of new ideas on television is higher than we ever allow for.” “We always tend to think that things bumble along at a very average level, and the great outliers are here and there,” he continued. “And every month, or every two months—actually, every day, I could find you something brilliant on TV.” [I love his positivity here; it's very Doctorish.]

Hopefully, Doctor Who‘s upcoming Christmas special, titled “Joy To The World,” will be one of those brilliant things. The episode will feature Nicola Coughlan and see the Doctor (Ncuti Gatwa) check into a “time hotel” that allows him to visit every Christmas Day in history. You can watch that adventure on our present Christmas Day, even if you can’t travel back in time.

I’m just going to leave this here

[cherubfae]

Can you write Alastor x a Reader who works in radio? I don't think Alastor would let them on air since he doesn't seem the type to have a co host to me but maybe he'd have a intern who gets him coffee or a script writer.

"𝔦��'𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔦𝔯" || {𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯}

tags: gn!sinner!reader (described to have horns but is an otherwise ambiguous demon!!), fluff, pre-established relationship, mentions of death, true crime, vox being vox lmao, jealous alastor, blood/bloody play (sorta??), Valentino is his own warning (threats of SA but nothing happens), mentions of injuries and being kidnapped (use of chloroform), implied VoxVal, no smut but still MDNI

a/n: I hope you enjoy!! This got a bit long!

Much like Alastor's life before he died, you were also quite the popular radio host for your time. Engaging, funny, and respectable. Your audience loved tuning in the early hours of the morning to you recanting the strange occurrences of the multiple killings of men from the late 1920s until that stream suddenly stopped during the year 1933 within New Orleans, Louisiana.

True crime has always been your passion, in life and in death. You certainly didn't think you'd end up in Hell for taking the life of someone trying to mug you on the street. A tall, masked man who saw to it that you'd never see the light of day again. A couple gunshot wounds to your abdomen proved effective as you rest against the wall, bleeding out onto the concrete with your soon-to-be killer lying facedown and dead mere feet from you. Killed by the very thing you sought to bring awareness towards. Quite poetic in a way.

As your gaze clouds and vision becomes unfocused, you look up at the stars. The ares around you was beautiful. It was one of your favorite parts of town, even your death wouldn't taint the beauty of the stretching oak and maple trees reaching tall towards the skies. The faint sound of smooth jazz playing from the record shop only a few paces away mixing with the swirling scent of coffee. At least you were dying in a place that you loved.

Now, here you are. In Hell. Doomed to total damnation for all fucking eternity. You'd been down here for a couple months, taking up residence near Cannibal Town, yet still unsure of what to make of all the carnage, debauchery, and depravity. You didn't think you belonged in Hell, even if you took the life that simultaneously extinguished your own.

"What's wrong, dearie? I've known you to be quiet but today you are exceptionally so." Mused Rosie, her gentle tone pulling you out of your reverie. You glanced down at your tea, sighing.

Leaning your cheek against your palm, you meet her charcoal-black eyes. Genuine concern etched onto her politely beautiful face. "I'm just feeling lost is all, I guess. I told you how I ended up in Hell, right?" Solemnly, Rosie nods.

Placing down her tea cup, Rosie wiggles towards you a bit. "Maybe you just need to find that old spark again! Something that roused you when you were alive! I have a friend who was a radio host, same as you. He may be able to have a job for you! Alastor is as charming as they come!" She grins, her mouth full of pointed teeth on full display.

Your brow quirks. "Alastor? The Radio Demon?" Rosie nods, excitedly. Alastor had been the prolific serial killer that haunted New Orleans back in the 1920s. It felt weird that the main man-- subject, you studied in life would soon be your acquaintance and potential boss in death. You'd heard many hushed tales about the aforementioned Radio Demon dealing in bartered souls and how he wreaked havoc against his fellow Overlords overnight. He definitely seemed like the kind of demon you didn't want to make light of, or worse, be on his bad side.

"He's a quirky one, for sure, but don't listen to all those rumors and gossip!" Rosie waves her hand with a laugh. "Alastor is still a gentleman and I'm sure he'd be delighted to offer you a job! Maybe you can intern for him? Besides! If he's ever rude to you, ol' Rosie will kick him in the shins! I'll wear my extra-pointy boots!" She giggles, holding your hands in hers. "You'll be in good hands, my dear! I'll let Alastor know you're coming right away!"

Staring down at the neatly folded paper in your hand, you double and triple check the address scrawled in neat calligraphy.

Hazbin Hotel.

Was it normal for a former serial killer slash radio host to become a hotelier that's trying to rehabilitate sinners?

With a shrug, you made your way up the incline taking note of the rather ominous looking radio tower jutting out from the far-right side of the hotel. A sign displaying the words on-air was currently unlit and it looked quite dark inside from what you could see from the ground. Perhaps the great Alastor wasn't at home.

Knocking on the front door, you're greeted by a tall, deer-like demon with two-toned hair and sharp yellow teeth dressed in a dapper red-pinstripe suit complete with a microphone-like cane. Scarlet eyes stare down at you like a lion watching a gazelle. You feel utterly and completely exposed, like he's peeling back your every layer, surveying you, before he even said a single word.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear! Quite a pleasure! You must be the little darling that dear Rosie sent, yes?" Alastor places his hand on your lower back, guiding you past the hotel's front doors and into the welcoming comfort of the establishment's front lobby and reception area. "This is a place where wayward sinners such as yourself can find peace and be led on the path of redemption to ascend to Heaven by Hell's very own princess, Charlie Morningstar!"

On queue, a blonde-haired girl sprints up to you squealing and flailing her arms a bit. She takes her hands in yours and offers you a big, delighted smile. You like her immediately. "Oh, my gosh! Welcome, welcome to Hazbin Hotel! I see you've met our gracious host Alastor! He's mentioned that you're going to be interning for him-- how exciting! We are so thankful to have you!"

With the attention directed back at him, Alastor grins with a whine of radio static. It was the equivalent of a lazy smirk with his half-lidded scarlet eyes taking you in one more, searching for any potential risks you may pose though you didn't intend any of that sort. You felt your skin begin to heat the longer his gaze remained on you, and hesitantly break the eye contact with the demon in favor of Charlie, who has been excitedly talking about all of the hotel's features.

To think, all those months ago had been the start of your journey with your friends. You had felt so out of place in Hell, in your new skin, uncomfortable with the weight of sharp horns protruding your skin and the strength of your clawed hands. You were quite pleasantly surprised at what you could withstand now as a demon.

"I brought your coffee, sir." Alastor hums out a soft 'thank you' yet continues to fiddle with the buttons and tracks on his console, not raising his head to look at you. "Rosie gave me some venison for you. She said aid it's your favorite when it's fresh and raw." Placing Alastor's simple black coffee on a small side table, you revere your boss with a fond expression. Rosie had been truthful she said he was the charming sort. There certainly was an air of respectability about him that men lacked from your time.

"Our dear Rosie is certainly a clever one, and she is quite correct. There is no better way to enjoy meat than having it served fresh. Preferably off the bone but this will do." Alastor tilts his head, turning to the side to regale you from the corner of his eyes. Those damn beautiful scarlet gems. "Something the matter, my dear?" Alastor's voice is a soft crackle.

Stumbling in surprise, you wrack your brain for a plausible answer. When you find none, you shake your head from side to side cursing the heat that sets your cheeks ablaze.

Alastor smirks, standing from his stool and approaches you. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger; his claw lightly dragging across your lower lip. Blood beads up following the path his claw created. He swipes it up, licking it in front of you.

"Tasty," Alastor grins, leaning down and bumping his nose into yours. "As I said, meat is best when fresh." He squeezes your cheek lightly, chuckling at the exudes into his palm. "If I wasn't certain, I'd say you have a little crush on me, hmm?" He turns his back to you, those damned scarlet eyes that see straight through your soul strike you where you stand. "That'll be all now, dearest. Thank you for your time and your blood."

You couldn't get out of there fast enough. You weren't afraid of him, no, you were more scared of kissing him now more than ever. A fantasy of both of you pressed tight to one another with mouths soaked in blood would be all you can think of for hours.

Whatever was going on between you and Alastor continued on much like a game of cat and mouse only he seemed to be going out of his way more and more to fluster you, saying things that would catch you off guard.

"I don't think of myself as much of a man who desires a relationship beyond friends and family, but cohabitating with you as lifelong partners does sound desirable."

"Hmm, tell me. Are your horns sensitive?" His breath ghosts then one day, causing you to shriek and cover them. You pout, turning your head to glare at him. Alastor's grin only seemed to stretch further. "Only teasing, darling, no need to get so uppity."

It was a slow evening, Alastor had sent you off on another errand. There was a sense of apprehension worrying his brow, glancing at the analog clock. The hour hand strikes the 3am mark. He'd sent you off almost an hour and a half ago, so where were you?

Interference crackles onto his radio, Alastor hissing as the feedback screeches. With ears pinned back, his eyes narrowed further when a familiar voice crosses.

"Ugh, I will never understand why thr fuck you use this shit, Alastor." Groaned Vox. "Anyway, I got your cute assistant here. You should see them, shaking like a leaf." The radio glitches in tune with Vox's laughter. "Valentino here has been itching for a new plaything, doesn't that sound good, sweetheart? Maybe we can broadcast that for all of Hell to see, right Al--"

Smash. Alastor's fist smashes through the radio cutting off Vox's boastful rant.

On the other side of the city, Vox blinks in confusion. "I lost the radio signal? Oh, fuck, God this shit is so old." He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Spinning around, he gives you a wry smirk. "Guess we'll see if the Great Alastor comes to rescue his lost pup, hmm?"

Glowering at him, left bound and gagged, sitting on the cold, hard floor. Valentino gives a harsh tug on your hair, your teeth sinking into the cotton gag shoved in your mouth, a muffled grunt leaving you.

An electric feeling in the air has your hair rising. Vox and Valentino share a confused look. A large fist blasts inside of the V Tower, claws sharp as they did through the metal like it was butter.

"Oh, fuck, it's Alastor!" Vox shrieks, scrambling to get away from the broken window. A second fist smashes through sending Vox into the opposing wall with a deep thud. Valentino runs to his friend's aid, helping him up.

"Well, this is what you wanted, honey."

Vox groans in protest. "I know."

Green electricity crackles, a dark shadow pooling into the room and with a shriek, manifests into Alastor.

Paying the two no mind, Alastor crosses the threshold and kneels down before you. His clawed fingers are gentle as he removes the gag around your bruised mouth. "Sorry it took me so long, mon cour." A tentacle bursts through his back, spiraling directly into Vox and Valentino, sending the two into the neighboring room with a loud crash.

Scooping you into his arms, Alastor calmly walks through to the next room, his hand cupping the back of your head. "Rest." He regards the other two males with a snarling crackle.

"If I didn't have more important matters to attend to, I would eviscerate you two gents. Touch what is mine again and I'll broadcast your fucking screams all over Hell." Alastor hums, exiting V Tower.

"Holy shit! Did you see?? He finally sees me as his rival!" Vox cheers, tossing both arms into the air in celebration.

Valentino sighs, "Honey, you need psychiatric help."

"This may sting, but I trust that you can handle it." Alastor says, rubbing off the blood from your brow with a cotton ball doused in isopropyl alcohol. Wincing softly, you take the moment to look at him closely. You'd never seen Alastor so disheveled. Even with dealing with enemies, he was always composed. But, tonight, he had been anything but the picture of composure. He looked positively feral.

"Is there something about my face you find interesting, dearest?"

Squeaking, your face flushes, shaking your arms frantically. Gasping you quickly place a hand to your ribs. Guess they really did fracture something when they knocked you out.

Alastor stills your hands with his own. "Easy now, pet. You're in no state to be moving around like an interpretive mime. I was only teasing you, my dearest. You had me worried tonight."

Hanging your head low, you turn your gaze away. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I don't know how they got the drop on me. I was walking home and smelled something odd--," you gasped in realization. "Chloroform. It had to be."

Alastor growled tensely at that. He tied the bandage around your arm and with a snap of his fingers the medical kit disappeared and a serving tray appeared carrying a kettle full of hot chocolate and a staple 1920s dessert: pound cake. This one was drizzled with a bitter chocolate and filled with strawberries.

Alastor takes your hand and gently kisses your knuckles. "Care to join me for a treat?" His tone was a touch more gentle than it had been a heartbeat ago. You smile, nodding eagerly. He grins and begins to cut the cake, serving you first. "One more thing."

Softly, Alastor kisses your cheek. It was the lightest of touches and over as soon as it happened. He busies himself by pouring two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, the apples of his cheeks were a rosy hue.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[mrghostrat]

What's some of your favourite scenes in your fics?

there is a special place in heaven for anons like u with questions like these 😍💛

mon horrible cheri: when aziraphale has a full french conversation in front of crowley without knowing crowley is fluent !!!!!!

≪That’s not a no,≫ Justine pointed out. ≪Go on, I won’t tell your headmaster. What’s he like in—≫ ≪We haven’t,≫ Aziraphale interrupted her, beet red. Then, out of nowhere, he glanced back at Crowley and offered him a small, polite smile, completely out of sorts with the conversation being had in front of him. That’s when Crowley realised, as suddenly as the envy evaporated from him: he doesn’t know. His eyes widened with glee behind his shades. He doesn’t know I speak French.

apparently i have a thing for realisations bc i also love in postcards from paris when crowley shows up at aziraphale's door and aziraphale realises who he is 🥺:

Crowley could only watch as Aziraphale’s face journeyed through a dozen flickering expressions. His frown deepened, his eyes narrowed, his chin even tilted ever so slightly up. But then shoulders squared and his lips parted, pinched at the corners until his eyes blew wide, and before he knew it, a similar gust of air was wrenched out of him. Suddenly his eyes were frantic, darting millimetres in every direction, until his shoulders slumped so far back he fell back against the door with an unflattering rattle of the latch. Crowley knew the feeling. He was still engulfed in it. Aziraphale drew another breath and his lips were shaking. His knuckles were white, blending into the pale paper they creased. “Would you care for a cup of tea?” he asked carefully, slowly reaching for the door handle.

it's so sooo hard to pick a favourite moment from flawless bc i genuinely love and am so proud of so many scenes in that one 😤 i think chapter 3 is my favourite, with all the grave dirt and the denial culminating in the "I love you," he realised. then that fuckin phone call at the end of chapter 4 where crowley gets drunk and says it back and i RAAAAARRRR

Down the line, a bottle clinked against a tabletop, sloshing the liquid inside. Crowley gasped for breath. “I love you, angel.” Aziraphale opened his mouth to speak and tasted his stream of tears before he felt them. He wiped his face once, but it only smeared the saline across his skin to make way for another wave. He sat back in his chair and stared at his cold mug through bleary eyes. “I love you too,” he whispered back, devastated by how much he meant it.

and EDITOR'S NOTE!!! another one with loads of faves, like the opening scene of chapter 1, crowley's reaction to aziraphale's Beetle, and especially the gay conversation!!!!! 🫡

“I’m sorry, you just—” He coughed. “You just know all this off the top of your head?” Aziraphale stared at him for longer than he’d care to admit. “I should hope so,” he said slowly. Still, Crowley said nothing. Aziraphale tried again, “I’m… gay?” The words felt so strange to say. Aziraphale hadn’t come out to anyone since… Oh, Lord— ever. He’d never had to come out before. Even his mother, when he ran up to her at eleven years old and said he wanted to ask a date to the school dance, asked him what the boy’s name was. His father disliked him long before either of them knew why, and he’d never once been approached by a woman at a bar with the wrong idea. No one had ever gotten the wrong idea about Aziraphale before. Everyone read him like a book. Except the writer, apparently. “...You’re gay?” Crowley asked, genuinely flabbergasted. “Yes,” Aziraphale breathed back, genuinely flabbergasted.

[kirammanswifey]

《Beyond Love, Only Chaos Remains》

Jinx

writer's note: i think that this has been one of the most toxic and sick things that i have ever written, but still, loved it, it's my cup of tea you guys. anyways, if you guys don't know this little twisted histories comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there if someone's interested, tomorrow it's vi's turn ;)

link:

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, fingering, squirts, spitting, use of drugs, mentions of blood and weird kinks, emotional manipulation, stalking demeanor, obsessive and toxic relationship dinamyc, jinx and reader have a lot of mental issues but they still cool... i think that's all, have fun!

You always knew Jinx was special. From the very first moment you saw one of her videos, something clicked inside you, as if her colorful chaos and her manic laughter were the perfect echo of a dark corner in your own mind. It wasn’t just admiration; it was devotion, an inexplicable connection that made you feel like you were destined to find her, to know her… and maybe, to be part of her world.

Your room became an altar to Jinx: the walls covered in screenshots from her streams, printed cutouts of her most iconic photos, and even a monitor dedicated exclusively to playing her best clips on repeat. Each item had a purpose; every detail about her, no matter how insignificant, was another piece in your puzzle. You knew that her real name was Powder, but she felted comfortable being called by Jinx. You knew she about her taste for sweet things, that she preferred “Overblast” matches in chaos mode, and that despite her constant laughter, there were moments of silence between each stream, where she seemed… alone.

The obsession started as a normal interest, at least that’s what you told yourself. But soon you found her postal address in a stream where, by accident, her camera captured the name of her building. It was just curiosity at first, right? You convinced yourself there was nothing wrong with being near her world, even if it meant spending hours in front of her building, imagining what she was doing, if she was thinking about her fans… if she was thinking about you.

Your username, HexedByJinx, first appeared in her chat months ago, when you dared to donate a significant amount during one of her streams. "Oh, wow! HexedByJinx, thanks for the support. I guess someone’s really enchanted by me, huh?" Her laugh echoed in your ears for days. You saved the clip and played it over and over until you could almost recite every word in the exact tone she used.

Soon, HexedByJinx stopped being just a name in the chat. You started sending her carefully selected gifts through her fan mailbox: a package of crumble cookies with a note that said, "To keep your energy up during those long matches," a necklace with a small rocket to match her explosive aesthetic, and a handwritten card that took you days to perfect. You never received a direct response, but in one stream, you saw her wearing the necklace. Your hands shook with excitement.

When she announced an event to meet fans, your chance finally arrived. You knew you couldn’t just be another face in the crowd. You spent weeks planning what to say, what to bring, and how to make Jinx remember you. You even designed a small digital painting inspired by her aesthetic and printed it as a gift. "She’ll see how much I care. She’ll know I’m different," you thought.

On the day of the event, you arrived early, watching the other fans as you waited for your turn. Jinx’s fans filled every corner of the place, many with blue or pink-dyed hair, as a tribute to their favorite influencer. Others carried signs and laughed nervously, but you stayed silent, studying them all. "They don’t understand how special she is," you thought, with a mix of pity and disdain. You were among them, but you weren’t like the others. You were completely focused on one goal: for her to notice you.

"Next!" shouted one of the organizers, signaling that it was your turn.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward. When you finally stood before her, your heart was beating with almost unbearable intensity. There she was, Jinx, with her vibrant blue hair and mischievous smile, like a living work of art. But what struck you the most was seeing her up close, so real.

Upon seeing you, Jinx’s eyes locked onto yours with that intensity you’d always seen through the screen, but now it made you feel naked, vulnerable.

You took a cautious step forward, trying not to show any nerves. You extended the painting you had brought for her, a vibrant, chaotic portrait reflecting her personality.

"This is for you. I made it thinking of everything you represent," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

She took the painting and examined it closely. Her fingers traced the lines of the design as a satisfied smile formed on her face.

"Wow, this is… amazing." Her eyes lifted to meet yours, filled with curiosity. "Wait, you’re…?"

"I’m… well, I’m a big fan," you said, feeling your words sounding clumsy. You decided to take a risk. "I’m the one who always comments on your streams… HexedByJinx."

For a second, her expression changed. She tilted her head, as if trying to remember. Then, her eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across her face.

"Oh, of course! HexedByJinx. I thought you were a bot or something. You’re real. How crazy."

Her reaction made you laugh, easing your nerves a bit.

"You’re the one who always sends those donations with weird messages and crazy gifts. What was it you said? 'Make the world explode a little more'?"

You laughed nervously, nodding.

"Yeah… I tend to say that. I thought you wouldn’t remember."

"Remember? Please, you always make my streams more interesting. Plus, those gifts you send…" She held up the painting. "Like this one. You’ve got style, you know?"

You felt your cheeks heat up under her attention, but you forced yourself to keep composure.

"I just wanted to thank you for everything you do. You inspire me to be braver, more… free."

She studied you carefully, her gaze more intense than you expected. Then, a sly smile crept onto her face.

"Brave, huh? That sounds fun. So, what do you do to be so brave?"

You hesitated for a moment before responding.

"I’m a streamer, like you. Though not as big, of course…" you said, laughing nervously. "But I try to create content that connects with people, like you do."

Jinx rested her chin on her hand, looking at you with renewed interest.

"Streamer? That explains why you’re always in my streams. And what kind of content do you make? Something explosive, or are you one of the boring ones?"

"A bit of everything, but nothing as cool as yours," you admitted, shrugging. "Actually, I wanted to propose something…"

"Propose something?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow with a smile that seemed like a challenge. "Alright, go ahead."

You took a deep breath.

"I wanted to see if we could collaborate on something. I think we could do something unique together, something that combines my art with your… well, your madness."

For a moment, you thought she might reject you. But to your surprise, Jinx burst out laughing.

"Collaborate with me? I like the way you think. You know what? It could be fun."

She leaned back, pulling a card from one of the pockets of her jacket, and slid it across the table to you.

"Here’s my manager’s contact. Talk to her and let me know if you’ve got something crazy enough to surprise me. But you better not bore me, alright?"

You took the card with trembling hands, but you managed to nod with confidence. Before you left, Jinx gave you one last look, leaning toward you with a mischievous smile.

"See you, Sugar Rush. Don’t disappoint me. Call me if you survive my manager," she joked, winking at you.

You stood frozen as the rest of the line moved forward. She gave her a nickname. To her. She was special to Jinx. That night, when you got home, you placed the empty painting where you’d planned to hang a picture of you and Jinx. It was only the beginning. She was already part of your life, but now, you were going to be part of hers.

The emotion you felt when you received Jinx's card didn't fade, even after you got home. You spent the whole night looking at the card, your fingers brushing over the printed letters as if they were the key to a world you now felt a part of. You knew you couldn't let this moment slip away, that you had to do something with it, something that would impress her. The idea of collaborating on something creative with Jinx filled you with adrenaline. The possibility of doing something that would truly leave a mark kept you awake late into the night, until you finally realized the inevitable: the only way to make this collaboration happen was to go beyond the expectations you had set for yourself.

It wasn't just about creating something for her; it was about creating something that reflected the chaos, the madness, and that unpredictable spark that so perfectly represented Jinx. You had to do something striking, something that showed you not only knew her, but understood her essence better than anyone else. Art could be the key, but you needed to go further. You decided you couldn’t present just any proposal. The work you wanted to present had to be completely aligned with what Jinx represented: breaking the conventional, transforming the ordinary into something entirely unexpected.

During the following week, you immersed yourself in creating something truly unique. You drew inspiration from the worlds she herself had built through her streams, the chaotic environments where her explosive energy seemed to bring everything she touched to life. But you also delved into her vulnerability, that strip of silence that snuck between the chaotic moments in her broadcasts. The art you were going to create wouldn’t just be for her; it would reflect everything that lay beneath her mask. You had to make her understand that you had noticed what no one else saw, the complexity of her being.

In the days leading up to your meeting with her manager, you became a whirlwind of ideas, sketches, and calculations. Every brushstroke, every element of the proposal seemed to require more attention, more dedication. You knew you couldn’t fail, not after everything you had done to get this far. Your purpose became a silent obsession: to make Jinx feel seen, not just admired, but understood.

The day you finally decided to send the email to her manager, you felt like you were sending a letter to the future. With a mix of nervousness and determination, you attached the proposal file. You knew everything could change in that moment. Maybe they would call you for a collaboration, or maybe they would ignore you completely, but it didn’t matter. You had come this far, and that in itself was an achievement.

Days later, the message arrived. The contact from her manager had responded, and there was something in their tone that filled you with anxiety. It said that Jinx had seen the proposal and wanted to talk to you, but there was a little unexpected twist: it wasn’t just about the collaboration you had imagined. The message also mentioned something about a new project for Jinx, one that was even more... risky. Were you ready for that? Fear and excitement mixed within you, but you knew you couldn’t back out. This was what you had been waiting for.

The next step was clear: the answer was yes.

The response was affirmative, and although the confirmation came through a formal email, you felt like the whole world stopped in that moment. What seemed like a simple step toward a project was transforming into an opportunity you couldn’t let slip away. Jinx had seen you, recognized your proposal, and now she wanted something more. You knew this meant the line between admiration and collaboration, between the fan and the creator, was completely blurring.

A few days passed before the call actually came. The manager’s number appeared on your phone, and as soon as you saw it, your heart skipped a beat. You answered with your breath catching, trying not to sound like just another fan, even though you knew deep down you were more than that. It wasn’t just the excitement of being part of her world; it was the possibility of getting closer to Jinx, of proving to her that you understood what no one else did.

"Hello, am I speaking with…?" The voice on the other end was professional, direct, but still had a friendly tone.

"Yes, this is… HexedByJinx." The name rolled off your tongue with a familiarity that no longer sounded strange. You felt like this whole journey had led you to this very moment.

"Ah, of course." A soft click in the background, as if the manager was checking something. "Jinx saw your proposal and is interested in seeing more. But before that, we need to talk about the direction you want to take this. She mentioned that you have some... unconventional ideas. That’s something she likes. So, tell me, what do you have in mind?"

A knot formed in your stomach, but you didn’t let fear stop you. You knew this was your chance to shine, and you couldn’t let it slip away. You spoke with a mix of confidence and excitement, detailing everything you had in mind: how you wanted to incorporate Jinx’s chaos, but also her vulnerability, how it all had to feel like an explosion of colors and sounds, but without losing the heart of who she really was. What you had planned wasn’t just visual art; it was an experience, one that could transcend what everyone thought they knew about Jinx.

"Perfect. Jinx is very intrigued. We’ll call you next week to discuss the details. Get ready for the unexpected. There’s no turning back once this starts." The manager hung up before you could say anything more, leaving you with a feeling of adrenaline, but also uncertainty. Something bigger was brewing, something that would change your life forever.

The call left a deep impression on you. It wasn’t just the first step toward a real collaboration, but a reminder that your world was about to be completely shaken. You could feel it, that strange pull toward the unknown. And as the days went by, you found yourself reviewing the details of the proposal again and again, adjusting and perfecting. You knew the work had only just begun.

The day of the meeting arrived faster than you expected. You found yourself again in front of Jinx, this time in her studio, surrounded by the same neon lights you had always seen through the screen, but now so real you could touch them. The air was charged with energy, a palpable chaos that made you feel like you could explode at any moment. She was there, as unpredictable as always, with that smile of hers, as if everything in the world could be destroyed by her laughter.

"Sugar Rush, you're here!" Jinx exclaimed when you walked in, her voice full of that energy that made you feel like nothing was impossible.

You sat across from her, your mind racing with all the ideas you wanted to share, but you knew it was time to listen. The proposal you had made was just the beginning; now you wanted to know how Jinx saw things, how far she could take this collaboration.

"I love the way you think. Have you realized that we're about to do something totally... fucking epic?" Jinx leaned forward, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and a hint of mischief.

You nodded, trying to keep up, but with every word from Jinx, every gesture, you felt more connected to her, more a part of her world. What had once been a fantasy, an impossible dream, was taking shape, and everything was starting to feel real.

"I know," your voice came out more confidently than you felt, but that was exactly what you needed. You weren't going to let fear hold you back now. "I'm ready to take it further. I'm ready for the world to see what you and I can do."

Jinx smiled again, this time with an unexpected softness, as if she were recognizing something more than just a fan. As if, finally, she was seeing you not only for what you had done but for what you were capable of creating.

"Then... let's get started. And brace yourself, because this is going to be one hell of a ride," her smile widened, and you couldn't help but smile too. You knew what was about to come would change your life forever, and you couldn't wait to see it.

Jinx's studio was lit only by the dim glow of the computer screens, which blinked incessantly, reflecting colors that never seemed fully defined. The place was a chaos of organized disorder, with scattered cables, tools, and fragments of what looked like unfinished experiments. The atmosphere was imbued with the energy of someone who lives on the edge, someone who doesn't fear the unknown, but seeks it, consumes it.

You found yourself staring at everything, feeling the tension rise as Jinx explained what she wanted to do. It wasn't just an artistic project, no. There was something much deeper, something dark behind her words. The intensity in her gaze penetrated to your bones. You knew that what was being forged here could change everything, and the idea of being so close to that chaos, that power, excited and terrified you at the same time.

"What we're going to do isn't just art; it's a statement. Something that will make everyone who sees it, who feels it, in their very core. Not some Mister Beast shit," Jinx said, her voice charged with that unpredictable energy only she could project.

You didn’t need her to explain any further. You understood what she was hinting at. There was something in the way she spoke, something in her proximity, that pushed you to enter unknown territory. The adrenaline started pumping through your veins, a mix of danger and excitement. Chaos had never been so tempting.

You leaned in closer to her, and for a moment, words ceased to matter. You were completely absorbed by her presence. There were no doubts in your mind, only an urgent need to connect with her, to immerse yourself in that darkness that so easily defined her.

"What we're going to do is going to shatter expectations. It won't just be a visual spectacle; it's going to be a clash of sensations, a direct hit to everything people think they understand about art and chaos. We're going to push those limits, make people feel every vibration, every reaction," Jinx said, getting closer and closer, as if guiding you to something you couldn’t walk away from.

The proposal was clear. What they wanted to create wasn’t just a visual installation, but an immersive experience that would take the participants and bring them to the edge of their fears, their darkest desires. A world where sensations would feel too real, where the viewer couldn’t distinguish between what was part of the installation and what was a reflection of their own mind. Chaos, uncertainty, discomfort. All of it would be translated into an emotional test so powerful that those who dared to enter would never leave the same way.

Art, in this case, wasn’t just something to look at. It was something to live.

Jinx was staring at you with an intensity that seemed to consume everything else. Every word, every gesture, was charged with a palpable urgency. She was so determined to bring her vision to the world that everything she touched became part of that vision.

And then, almost impulsively, you took a moment to look at her closely. The spark in her eyes, the way her lips curved into a smile that only true chaos could generate, hypnotized you. You realized you were facing something much bigger than just a project. You were facing a dangerous connection, and you couldn’t say no.

"I want you with me in this. Not as a spectator. As someone who understands what we're about to do," Jinx moved her face closer to yours, her words filled with uncontrollable desire. Her breath was warm on your skin, and her proximity made you feel like you were about to crumble.

And, although you knew it, you couldn’t pull away. This was the strongest attraction you’d felt in a long time. The fear that would normally have held you back faded, replaced by a burning need to be part of her world. To be part of that darkness, of that destructive energy that seemed to define her. You didn’t know if it was her madness, her magnetism, or something much deeper that kept you close, but you had surrendered without even questioning it.

"What do you need from me?" you asked, and although the words came out calmly, your voice was filled with something far more visceral.

Jinx smiled, with that smile that you knew would change everything.

"I need you to use your skills to bring this to life. To make it so real that no one who sees it will ever forget it. It’s going to be a spectacle that will make them question everything they know about fear, pleasure, madness. But I also need you. Without you, this doesn’t make sense."

In that moment, you realized something. This wasn’t just a project. It was an invitation to enter her world. A world where there were no rules. Where chaos was the only constant. And you, by your own choice, were handing yourself over to it.

The connection between both of you was so deep, so intense, that there was no room for doubt anymore. You didn’t need to think. All you could do was move forward. You knew that what you were about to create would be as destructive as it would be addictive. But, in that moment, you wanted nothing more than to sink further into the abyss she offered.

She looked at you, and in her eyes, you could see what she truly wanted. She wasn’t just looking for someone to help her create something. She was looking for someone willing to follow her to the end, to embrace the chaos by her side. And you knew that, for the first time, you felt completely alive.

The air in the warehouse was thick, heavy with the smell of mold and rusted metal. Every step you took echoed with a macabre sound, as if the place itself was alive, waiting for something. Jinx, with that crooked smile you never knew if it was malicious or simply excited, watched you as you moved forward. The room was lit only by dim lights, flickering on the ceiling, giving the place an even darker feel. You knew what you were about to do, and it was impossible not to feel a mix of excitement and tension in the air. This wasn’t just a show. This was art in its rawest, wildest form.

"Are you ready for what we’re about to do?" Jinx asked, her voice charged with an energy that sent shivers down your spine. There was no room for doubt. You knew there was no turning back, and you were surprised by how eager you felt, how your body responded almost automatically to her energy.

"Let’s do it," you replied firmly, though the uncertainty burned inside you. You felt the weight of what was coming. You felt yourself sinking deeper into this chaos, this madness you were creating together. Jinx was the fire, the spark, but you were the one holding the reins, the one who knew how to make it all fit, make it all make sense. Or so you thought. Or so you wanted to believe.

You moved into the center of the warehouse, the stream was on since minutes ago, where the screens and projectors were ready to be activated. Each one was placed with precision, yet there was a touch of disorder, as if it were something that should never be ordered. The perfect combination of chaos and control. Like the two of you.

The first participants arrived, and you felt the energy in the air shift. It was a mixture of anticipation and fear. One by one, the spectators entered the dark corridor you had designed, the lights flickering around them, casting shadows that seemed to move as if they were stalking them. You could see how their eyes filled with doubt, with insecurity, but also with a strange fascination. The sound, a deep rumble that grew in intensity, seeped into their veins, taking hold of them. Their pulse quickened, the air thickened.

They didn’t know what was waiting for them. You did.

As they moved forward, the projections began. They were fragmented images: distorted faces, broken memories, their own fears projected on the screens. The chaos was palpable. The walls, which at first seemed like mere ruins, came to life. You couldn’t help but smile. Everything was working perfectly.

But then came the moment to give them what they really needed. The space darkened completely. The light vanished as if it had never existed. The sound turned into a low, heavy pulse, as though the universe itself was breathing in their ears. In that overwhelming silence, the shadows rose again. Something was changing. Something big was about to happen.

When the corridor ended, the participants were called one by one to enter what you had named "the fear chamber." A small, enclosed space, isolated from the world, where the rules of reality ceased to exist. The first one entered, trembling, unsure of what to expect. You watched everything from a dark corner, your breath steady, your eyes fixed on the screen. Inside the chamber, the lights flickered, then went out. A distorted figure appeared in the projections. The image of a face, and then another, one that quickly faded, leaving behind something that shouldn’t exist.

It was chaos made into an image. But the most interesting part was what was happening in their minds. Their own fears, their darkest desires, their insecurities… all of that was projected in front of them. They couldn’t escape. They couldn’t do anything.

You focused. You knew when to tighten, when to let the pressure build. It was such a precise control that it almost felt like an art of manipulation.

Jinx, in the back, was smiling. She was watching how each one of them cracked, how reality dissolved, but you were in your element, enjoying the chaos with a calm that only you could possess. In this moment, you were completely connected to the spectacle, to what you were creating. Jinx was your ally, your muse, your chaos, but you were the one shaping it into perfection.

Though you never said it aloud, the connection between you and Jinx grew deeper. It wasn’t just the art. It wasn’t just the show. It was something darker, something more personal. The way your ideas merged, the way your minds complemented each other in this game of shadows. It was as if together you could create something no one else could understand, something so intense and visceral that it left marks on the soul. You knew that Jinx needed you to give shape to her madness, and Jinx knew that you were the balance that gave it meaning.

The images on the screen now showed something different. A distorted figure. Your own face merged with Jinx’s. In the projection, both of you seemed to merge, transforming into a single entity. In that moment, you felt it deep inside: it was as if you could no longer live without her.

You looked at her face, at her crooked smile, as she manipulated the controls with almost obsessive precision. You felt that all of this was taking shape faster than you had imagined. The show was going to be something no spectator would ever forget, but the most shocking thing was what was happening inside you. The line between art and reality had blurred, and now, every moment with Jinx consumed you.

The end was near. You knew that the final phase, the climax of the show, was going to break them. The participants were already on the edge of despair, but you didn’t know how far you could push them. Every stimulus, every image, every sound, every smell, was designed to disturb them, to break them. The impact would be brutal. The chaos would be absolute. And you, watching from the shadows, were the one in control.

It was when everything seemed to collapse, when everything became unsustainable, when the participants felt like they were losing their minds, that the show reached its final moment. The lights went out. The sound turned into a roar, a scream, something that pierced their chest. The screen shattered, showing images of them, their own fears spilling over.

When the silence fell, you realized something. You had done what you wanted. You had brought to life something so dark, so deeply disturbing, that no one could forget it.

And by your side, Jinx kept smiling, waiting, enjoying the madness you had just unleashed.

You return to Jinx's apartment after the show, and the air between the two of you feels electrified. The success is palpable. The metrics, the comments, the followers. Everything has exploded. And it's not just because of the show, it's because you and Jinx have touched something deep in each viewer. The chaos you've created has left its mark.

Jinx, always restless, throws her backpack onto the couch and turns on a dim light in the corner of the room, casting shadows that dance on the walls. The music, a pounding industrial sound, begins to play in the background. Both of you are exhausted, but there's something undeniable: the tension between you two is stronger than ever.

You approach her without thinking too much. The celebration moment is no longer about success, but about what has been built between you. The silence between you two stretches on, but it’s not uncomfortable. It's the prelude to something more.

Jinx looks at you with those bright, unpredictable eyes, as always. "Aren't you tired of surprising me, Sugar Rush?" Her tone is playful, but there’s something darker hidden in her gaze, something that attracts you even more.

"No… I'm not tired of you," you reply with a raspy voice, taking another step closer to her. The distance between you two narrows until the electricity is palpable. Jinx doesn’t wait a second, grabs your neck, and kisses you wildly, as if all the madness you’ve unleashed on the world needs to escape in that moment. Her lips are demanding, and you don’t resist. The kiss is brutal, like a clash of overflowing passions.

You pull away a bit, looking into her eyes. You’re breathing fast, as if all the air in the apartment has been exhausted. "Jinx, I… I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but… I’m completely obsessed with you. Every time you’re not around, I lose control. I’ve done things... crazy things, things no one should do, and I feel sick for you."

Jinx doesn’t take a step back. Her smile grows, and although you know it’s a smile of madness, you also feel it excites her, everything you've just said. "Oh, Sugar Rush, I love it when you get so... intense."

Without being able to help it, your hands slide over her body, touching her skin, her tattoos, feeling the chemicals between you. "I’ve spent hours following you. Hours, Jinx. I wake up thinking about you, I fall asleep thinking about you. I’ve searched for every picture of you, every video. Sometimes I watch you without you knowing, and all I do is imagine what would happen if I had you closer. And then I realize I already have you close, and that... drives me crazy." Every word escapes your mouth with desperation, as if confessing it, all the weight of your obsession collapses.

Jinx laughs softly, but it’s a laugh full of evil and desire. "I’m driving you completely crazy, huh? I like it." Then, with unexpected speed, she pushes you against the wall, her body pressing against yours almost aggressively. Her hands explore your body with overflowing fury, as if she’s anxious to confirm that everything you just said is true, that she’s completely inside of you.

The touches between the two of you become more and more desperate. You’re afraid of what you might do if you keep giving in to this whirlwind of desire and madness. But at the same time, you can’t stop. Your mind and body are trapped, and Jinx is the only escape.

"You know, right?" Jinx whispers in your ear as her lips trace fiery kisses on your neck. "There’s no turning back. You’re mine, Sugar Rush." Her words are like sweet poison, and something inside you burns with more intensity. The truth becomes clearer, and you don’t want to escape it. You want more.

"Yes… yes, I’m yours," you murmur between gasps, losing yourself in her, in the heat, in the madness that consumes you. "And you… you’re mine. You’ll always be."

Jinx, hearing your words, smiles again, satisfied, and slides closer to you, taking your lips in a kiss so desperate and full of passion that you feel like the whole world is falling apart around you.

The apartment is lit only by the neon lights flickering, casting psychedelic shadows on the walls, like an ezquizofrenic show. The feeling of triumph has already faded, replaced by a much more urgent and dangerous need. You’re consumed by a flame you can’t extinguish, and Jinx knows it. You both know it. The chaos you’ve unleashed on the digital world has been nothing compared to the chaos now taking shape between you two.

In one corner of the room, Jinx pulls out a small box, opens it with a twisted smile, and inside, a white powder glows faintly under the light. She takes a spoonful, looks at it, and then, with a casual gesture, offers it to you.

"Come on, Sugar Rush, don’t you want to fly? We need this. All of this... this is ours. This is the last level."

You’re scared, for a second, of what you’re about to do. But the desire consumes you, temptation takes over. You’ve been through a lot in the last few months, and this... this feels like an escape. Making this decision is almost like, by doing so, you can finally release everything you’ve been holding back.

Taking the powder, you inhale it, feeling the burn in your nostrils, a direct hit to your brain. Instantly, warmth spreads through your body, euphoria begins to take control, and your thoughts become blurry, bubbly. Jinx looks at you intently as the powder begins to take effect, her eyes shining brighter than ever. "That’s it… you’re mine now, completely."

Reality begins to fade, and all that remains is the sound of the music and the sound of labored breathing between the two of you. Jinx approaches you again, this time with unexpected violence. It’s as if everything that was in her before is exploding. Her lips meet yours, and the passion that was once intense becomes something wild, insatiable. The contact between you two is like a clash of uncontrollable forces.

"I’m devouring you, can you feel it?" Jinx whispers between kisses, almost as if she’s talking to someone else, as if the conversation is a delirium. Her voice mixes with the music, creating a strange, thick melody. "You’ll never escape from me, never."

Your head spins. The powder makes everything you touched before now feel more real, more raw, more intensely sensitive. Every touch of her skin makes you shiver, and every word, no matter how absurd, drags you deeper into the madness. You don’t know if the desire you feel for her is real or if it’s just a fantasy fueled by what you’ve inhaled, but you don’t care. The only thing that matters now is that you can’t stop touching her, you can’t stop losing yourself in her.

Jinx's fingers slipped under your shirt, she smiled widely when she noticed you were braless, easy work. Her fingers squeezed your left nipple mercilessly, she rubbed it with her palm from top to bottom to make it more and more sensitive, so sensitive that it was impossible to bear, it was like a delicious torture. Your moans were not long in coming, from one second to the next you found yourself asking for more. You needed more. You needed her.

"What did you say, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, moving closer to your neck and biting hard, she sank her teeth in as deep as she could, and when you were about to scream she choked you with her hands to stop you, and that only made you more excited.

She didn't let go of your neck until she felt blood in her mouth, then she grabbed your hair.

"Open your mouth," She demanded, dominant and amused.

You could see her lips stained with blood, with your blood. Exquisite, red had always suited her so well. Without protest you obeyed, opening as wide as you could, sticking out your tongue that was dripping with excess saliva, drool sliding down your throat.

Jinx bit her lip and squeezed your cheeks, her extravagant half-painted nails digging into your skin, then she leaned in and spit in your mouth. You had no other reflex than to swallow and smile at her, grateful for what she was giving you.

Jinx laughed mockingly, she was using you as her toy, and you were more than happy to be.

"Let's try one more time. What do you want from me, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, still tasting your blood in her mouth.

"I want you to fuck me, but if you don't want to it doesn't matter. I'd settle for just this, you can keep biting me and drinking my blood, I don't care. I'm happy with anything that comes from you," You were lucky you were so high you couldn't hear yourself, because you really sounded pitiful and not very sane.

And Jinx loved it. She loved the power she had over you.

"You're kind of pathetic, Sugar Rush. You'd settle for anything, huh?" A dangerous glint lit up Jinx's eyes. "I mean, I could pull my pants down right now, piss on your face and you'd still thank me?"

And the saddest thing was that you didn't have to think about it, your head bobbing up and down in a way that was almost mechanical. "I love everything about you," You confessed hoarsely, imagining the scene vividly in your twisted head.

Jinx stifled an awkward laugh.

"Don't worry, baby, I won't go that far... yet," Jinx smirks, her eyes flashing with a dangerous light, and she pushes you against the wall again. "That's what I want to hear, Sugar Rush. I know you want me. I know I'm controlling you. Now shut up and enjoy."

Jinx squeezed her neck with one hand, putting special force where she had hurt her, and her other hand traveled from her mouth to your lower part. She put her hand under your skirt and with her legs she made yours open to have better access. Her index finger moved your underwear to the side and she stuck a finger in you, she took it out and put it in repeatedly, not going too deep, just testing its capacity. Her thumb rubbed your fluids against your clit, pressing it lightly, she was killing you slowly.

You writhed in her clutches, your body made involuntary contractions that harassed you with blows to the face for your stubbornness, Jinx hated it when you didn't listen.

"It seems that someone is a little restless. Maybe I should increase the intensity and see how long you can take it."

And without warning she inserted three more fingers, a scream escaped from deep in your throat, your eyes rolled back. Jinx's hand was busy all over your pussy, her four fingers penetrating you and her thumb never stopping punishing your clit. It was perfect. Simply perfect.

Jinx looked at you with her typical crazy smile, while she masturbated you she brought her face closer to yours to start filling you with licks all over. It was so wild, it was such a basic instinct, so primal. For a moment it felt like they had returned to the Paleolithic period, where they only had to eat, fuck and survive. And the truth is that it sounded like a good plan, the best, actually.

You couldn't take the intensity any longer and you came in a guttural, almost superhuman growl. Your juices were sliding through Jinx's hand, who still hadn't taken her fingers out of you, she was using you as her personalized Xbox controller, overstimulating you in a way that would make you lose your mind at any moment.

Luckily for you, she got bored after a few minutes and let you rest. Her reflex was to wipe your juices off her hand, and seeing this you almost felt like you could cum again.

"Can you sit on my face?" The question came out of your lips without any filter.

Jinx looked at you still with her sticky fingers in her mouth, she smiled and bit her thumb, smelling your essence on it.

"Lie down on the couch."

And you didn't need to hear it twice, even with your legs shaking you ran to the furniture and positioned yourself in the best way, with your head resting on the headboard, waiting patiently for your prize. God, this would be like a dream come true for you. But it all got even better when you looked to the side and were met with the scene you never thought you'd witness in real life.

Jinx was stripping in front of you. Your lustful gaze traveled all over her body, from her slim ankles, to her plump thighs, to those dreamy hips, and of course, to her tiny waist. Her nipples were the same shade of pale pink you'd bet on.

"Don't stare at me like that, you lil' freak," Despite her teasing tone it didn't sound like it bothered her at all.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it, you're gorgeous, the most..."

Jinx rolled her eyes and shushed you with a mime gesture. She stretched and her bones creaked exquisitely, she was warming up her muscles, because the position she would be in next required a lot of physical endurance, especially as time passed.

And meanwhile, you just waited in silence, delighted by the sight. Jinx climbed onto the furniture with her back to you, first staring at you, her pupils dilated.

"Enough talk, get that pretty mouth working. I want to cum too, fuck," And without warning, as was typical of Jinx, she sat on your face, and not in a delicate way, it should be noted.

She jumped on you as if you were an inflatable ball. Leaving you without air every two minutes, and in a very macabre way, you found yourself pleased with that idea. You could die like this and you would be happy.

"Your nose tickles me, Sugar Rush, it's amazing. I think you've become my favorite seat." Jinx alternated between breathy giggles and long sighs, it was a crazy experience, literally.

You were enjoying it, but not completely. You wanted to taste her, make her feel good, show her your full potential. So you took a chance and grabbed her by the hips, digging your fingers into her bones to keep her still.

Jinx moaned loudly as your tongue penetrated her deeply. You buried your face in that glorious pussy, breathing in her scent and only became more addicted, hungrier. You licked without stopping, interspersing it with occasional little bites.

Jinx looked down at you, you looked so cute like this, beneath her.

"I bet I'm fulfilling your biggest fantasy. I'm sure you used to masturbating while watching my streams, you little pervert."

And your muffled moan only proved her right.

"It feels like I'm helping a charity cause," Jinx humiliated you with her words and you could only continue to please her, because it was what you had to do, you were born to do it. "Shit, I'm gonna cum. Open your mouth." She bellowed in a high, whiny voice.

Jinx put pressure on her numb legs and stood up a little, she leaned on the couch and with her other hand she quickly caressed her clit in search of her orgasm. An orgasm that shot not only to your face but to part of your body, Jinx had had the biggest squirt you had ever seen in your life.

Exhausted, she let herself fall on top of you. Your naked and sweaty bodies intertwined like two threads of the same piece. Her long blue hair wrapped around you like a cloak, you stared at the ceiling and smiled big. Is this what happiness felt like?

"Why are you smiling, Sugar Rush?" Jinx asked, poking your cheek.

"Because I'm happy." It was the first time in your life you were able to say such a phrase, and yet you still couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe any of it—couldn't believe your luck.

"Aw, how sweet. Wanna do it again?" The sudden shift in conversation left you stunned.

Jinx didn’t wait for an answer. She kissed you, hard and rough. Your hands moved frantically across her body, searching for more than just skin. You wanted to go deeper, to tear her apart and reach her very heart. It felt as though everything was slipping away, as though reality itself was unraveling, and the only constant was her.

"Do you want to, Sugar Rush? How far would you go for me?" Her voice was husky, dripping with dark energy. She cupped your face gently, almost as if this were some twisted game. "I’ve made you mine, you know that, don’t you?"

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. You could only react. Her lips, her skin, the chaos surrounding you both—it all blurred into a single, undeniable truth. She was the only thing that mattered. Only her.

The kiss grew more desperate. Your bodies collided, pulled, and clawed at each other, as if devouring and becoming one in the process. Words became meaningless, empty. All that remained was the raw, unrelenting need, the way you were both destroying and remaking each other with every touch, every breath, every frantic caress.

The early morning had fallen when, finally, exhausted and caught in a whirlwind of emotions and adrenaline, they fell into silence. The room was filled with a mix of sweat and the heavy air of what had happened. The glow of the computer screen still illuminated their faces, even though the stream had ended, and the numbers kept rising.

Jinx lay back on the bed, still smiling with that overflowing spark in her eyes, but something had changed. She wasn’t the same crazy, attention-seeking lunatic anymore, but a more vulnerable, more human version of herself. However, you knew that this moment of vulnerability was as fleeting as everything else that passed through her mind. She was at your side in this chaotic world you’d created together, but you couldn’t help but feel that the connection being formed was also a cage.

You stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, your mind filled with disjointed thoughts, with the truth you had unleashed. You had confessed everything, every dark corner of your obsession, your fears, your desires, your addiction. You had let it all spill out, and instead of rejecting it, Jinx had accepted it as if it were just another game.

“You see, I told you,” Jinx whispered, slowly sitting up. She approached you, taking your chin with a crooked smile. “What we have is unique. And you know what? I love it.”

Her voice was softer, but her eyes still held the madness she always carried. You looked at her, feeling yourself burn even more, unsure if what you’d been searching for was an escape valve or a chain.

“It’s more than that…” you answered in a broken voice, unable to help yourself. The memories of everything you had done, of the hours spent waiting for her to notice you, flooded your mind like a storm. “It’s not just obsession, Jinx… it’s… I need to have you close all the time. I can’t let you go. I can’t.”

Jinx leaned in toward you, her warm breath on your neck, and her red lips left a soft kiss on your skin. You felt the tingling of her touch, but also that persistent sense of emptiness that never went away, that need to keep searching for something more, something you knew you would never find, but couldn’t stop chasing.

“Don’t worry, Sugar Rush. I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a playful laugh, but deep down you knew that the chaos in her mind was devouring her too. Just like it was devouring you. Just like it was consuming both of you.

Silence filled the room for a moment, but it wasn’t the silence of peace. It was the silence of two people trapped in a spiral of madness, fed by their own demons. Love, obsession, chaos, all blended into something bigger than either of them.

You lay beside her, feeling how Jinx’s breath intertwined with yours, even though you both knew neither of you would sleep that night. Inside you, everything was chaos. And that chaos, though terrifying, was the only thing keeping you alive.

[victorbutnotreally]

OMG I'M FINALLY FINDING A BLOG WHICH IS MY CUP OF TEA. YOU'RE AWESOMEEEEE

i have an idea but i can't write for shit, so i'll give it to my favorite tumblr writer (which is youuu)

smau where han messages the wrong number and it's some guy from like another country. and they become friends and then han comes to find out that his text pal is actually a celeb he fanboys over.

(bonus points if mn knows han as well)

OMG

A/N: Love that!! Thank you sm for requesting <3 (I can't title things for the life of me, so you can ask for a different title in the replies and I'll change it) French music makes writing so much more fun. warnings: slight swearing blue {} - han purple {} - Mn

{Oh. How nice of this person to wish me a good practice session.

"Is he getting here anytime soon?" Minho's voice echoed through the practice room.

"I'll ask!"

When he opened his phone again to change the number, he saw a familiar figure in the random person's profile picture. Mn Ln. Finally, someone who he can rant about the Mn Ln. }

{ Great. Got my hopes up for nothing }

{ Naturally, Mn wouldn't want his personal number leaked. So he lied. He was surprised at how smooth that was, but hey, it's text. He wanted to know more, though. Is that narcissistic?

He set his coffee mug down on his nightstand and looked a lot more like a contortionist as he continued to text, the risk of spilling coffee being gone now. }

{ Being called the best vocalist ever was certainly not something he expected. He was great, sure, but the best? Not when Freddie Mercury has music out there. But he'll take that compliment.

He was impressed at the fan. 'Achilles, my love" was one of his more niche songs, having been written when he was only 15 when he got completely shattered after reading 'The Song of Achilles' and decided to pour his heart and soul into a song which he released years later.}

{They don't know Mn yet, but who wouldn't like him after listening to Achilles my love? The way Jisung made the members listen to Mn's music was like a little kid making their parents watch Frozen. But the members never complained, the music was really good. Would they roll their eyes when Jisung keeps sending Mn memes into the groupchat? Sure. Did they have certain parts of certain songs memorized because Jisung kept watching his edits on repeat? Oh yes. }

{Mn didn't want his identity leaked. He had to think of a name quick. Chris, as in Bang Chan from Stray Kids was what came to mind. }

At the Paris Fashion Week

{Jisung found a spot away from the cameras and was texting 'Chris'. After a few months of them being 'text pals', he was pretty fond of the random citizen. But despite the sheer amount of songs, pictures, and videos he's sent of Mn, 'Chris' was never as obsessed with him as Jisung was.}

{Holding a glass of champagne in his hand and dearly missing his coffee, Mn who was decked head to toe in Hermes, makes his way over to the figure he recognized as Han Jisung of Stray Kids. How he loved that band. He was listening to Han's song 'Volcano' on the way there. As he goes to talk to him, his eyes caught onto the rapper's phone screen. And by instinct, he accidentally read a few texts. Texts that were from him. He wanted to tell Jisung, but how?}

"Hi! Huge fan, Jisung.." Jisung's eyes widened as he shoved his phone into his pocket and extended his hand for a handshake. It was his first time seeing his favorite singer in real life.

"Oh my god...you..sorry, I'm just flustered all of a sudden. I'm your biggest fan, really."

"I appreciate it. We should collab someday." "Yes!!" Was that too loud? No, right?

Mn was endeared by the enthusiasm. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and unlocked it.

"Care for a selfie?"

"I'd love to.." Jisung tried keeping his voice from sounding too loud and excited as he smiled beautifully in the selfie he took with the singer. He took one on his phone as well, along with a photo of just Mn, not being able to resist the opportunity.

A/N: I'm ending so abruptly since I have really bad writer's block rn and I didn't even know how I posted this much. If you have any ideas on how Jisung finds out he's been texting Mn all this time, then let me know in the replies or send a DM.

[deaconusdelirium]

Simon Headcannons

- now just for yall out there, this is my take on mean Simon, so no hands or anything to any other writers 🫶 -

———

•Simon knows he’s not the best lover to have, and he even warned you that he isn’t anyone’s cup of tea especially for pretty young things. He’d rather have someone who is financially stable, knows how to navigate life and knows how to do things yourself. It saves him the time and his patience. But still, if you pushed to date him, then so be it. He’s told you once and he won’t repeat himself

•Simon who can hold a conversation with people without being a total ass. He knows people are just naturally hesitant about his size and looks. And no, he won’t be mean to anyone who asks a simple question. Except if it’s a dumb question then he’s gonna say something

•Simon who brings home military training because it’s the norm for him. He told you his job and what he does and he trusts (expects) you to remember what rank and position he holds and how it makes him act. He’ll tell you he very rarely comes home, so there’s no warm cozy home for you to decorate. He lives on base and he lives at work, two birds one stone. What does he need an apartment in Manchester for?

•Simon who does not like to cuddle- at all. He’ll let you play a lovely civy life with him, as long as you don’t expect him to drop his personal space and boundaries. He can’t help it, all people live differently. He likes the bed warm, obviously not cold, but if you try to cling to him. He’s telling you to scoot back and he stays on his side. And if you’re one of those people who take up the whole bed, he’s staying towards the edge, he’s throwing your hand that’s in his space back towards you. And if you keep moving as such (which isn’t your fault btw) he’ll up and leave. Sleeping on the couch- or even the floor

•Simon who won’t follow you to the restroom. And no, he won’t wake up when you move just the slightest. He actually sleeps, like every other person does and has to. He knows sleep is important, especially in the military. Whether it’s a few minutes or hours. He’s out. You can talk on the phone with your friends or whoever and he won’t wake up. You can shake him a bit but if actually full on grab his arm or anything, he’s grabbing your wrist. And if you do however make a lot of noise and sees you not there but the bathroom light on. He’s going right back to sleep, lord knows he wouldn’t like you on his tail when he’s using the restroom. Respect his privacy and he’ll respect yours

•Simon who’s not grumpy and mean all the time. He’ll crack jokes, you just have to really understand and get behind his dark and dry humor. If anything, tell a really good joke and he’ll laugh. He’s just like every other man. He’ll loosen up but not enough to make a fool of himself

•Simon who has manners, he knows the military doesn’t care if you say thank you or your welcome. If you do as told and stay quiet, then you’re alright. But he knows civy life is different, if you cook, make or bake, he’s saying his thank you’s and telling you it’s good. What he won’t do, is pull you into his lap and make you sit there while he eats. He finds it awkward and a little uncomfortable. He eats fast, so if you’re expecting him to take his time and actually talk to you. You’re wrong, you can ask and he’ll take it into suggestion. But there’s no guarantees. When he eats, he eats, and again, it’s the norm for him

•Simon who won’t hand you his card and tell you to go ham, instead, you can ask for money. If you’re married that’s a different story, he’ll ask what it is and if you really need it. He’ll let you slide off the hook a few times but nothing too crazy or over the top. Now the marriage part, i think it would be pretty impossible to marry him considering how he’s self aware and tries to help you keep your self esteem high and your self worth even higher. He tells you that he’s not going to make a good husband- he’s not going to come home all the time when he’s at base. He won’t make an effort and go all out just to show you he loves you. Instead, he’ll try and get you to leave him. But easier said than done

•Simon who will sleep with you, if you want. My guess is he’d rather sleep his needs off than act on it if he has the time. If not, he’ll rub one out. If you fully offer yourself to him, don’t get upset that he goes somewhere private to alleviate his stress rather than come to you. He’s still getting use to staying with you. Either that, or he just forgot. If you do however manage to get him to sleep with you. He’s just going with the flow, doesn’t really want anything rough, if you ask him to go harder than he will…. Just not anything animalistic. He’s quiet rather than degrading, he doesn’t choke you, doesn’t spank you. He’d rather have plain vanilla sex without anything too crazy

•Simon who would still love you, maybe a little more than when he first started talking to you. But that’s what “falling in love with you more and more everyday” means to him. He shows you his love in his own way. Always lets you know he appreciates whatever it is that you do for him even though he can do things himself. He’ll take you out for dinner, nothing fancy to where he’ll dress in a suit or tie but nothing where he’ll wear his pajamas. Just a nice casual dinner.

———

sleeping on the floor is S tier btw

[2truehearts]

✦ — BUT DARLING, YOU ARE THE ONLY EXCEPTION.

✦ CHARACTER/S︰ijekiel alpheus & lucas from wmmap (who made me a princess).

✦ SYNOPSIS︰love can bloom and burn in any heart at the first sunlit-brindled brief—whether it be bounded by duty, ice, or disbelief; as long as that epitome of affection is you, they suppose they can make an exception and make some space—or in which they fall in-love with you first glance and sight.

✦ CONTENT WARNING/S︰nothing other than one swear word (fuck), & the general fluff and infatuation (from the character/s) + everything is proofread with the wc 200 - 300 each.

✦ A/N︰making my debut as a manhwa writer on main is not the ideal move but idk where to post it okay (side eyes the 2367838 sideblogs under this one/silly (also the title is inspired by "the only exception" by paramore <3 it's bleeping awesome go and give it a listen!!))

IJEKIEL IS NOT ONE TO FALL IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT, to have his world still for a few seconds while his heart overrides and blood races to the forefront of his cheeks—but dear heavens, were you the only exception to that rule bound by duty and a planned future in his chest. you surely weren’t the epitome of grace or as enchanting as the gods, but to him you were enough—more, than enough, truly.

he first met you in an arrangement of his father and your parents from your vague childhood—but oh, how he remembers every second of that first meeting. when the doors opened to you bowing in front of him with a barely-hidden smile of excitement curving the tips of your mouth to look at him with big, bright eyes of wonder staring directly at the copy of the sun—not once backing down to blink or burn away from awe and fluster. so ijekiel does that instead.  his skin flares with the color of blooming carnations, sunlight-prickled hues wide from childish panic at the sudden increased beating of his heart.  was something wrong with him? he felt light-headed and dizzy, stomach twisting, tossing and turning as if he was about to faint from merely seeing you presented before him like the finest muse of a pristine piece of art, incomparable to anything else other than itself. what should he do? should he compliment you? should he act indifferent and use a practiced smile? his mind is trying to adjust to the drastic changes of his swayed heart, but the boy just can’t seem to do just that when he’s faced with a fairytale protagonist right in front of him—and he blinks, catching something from the corner of his eye—and is brought back down to earth when he sees his father’s questioning gaze. then, bows with a smile, greeting you further in to sit down and perhaps enjoy a cup of tea with him?  you said yes out of common courtesy, but that only made his smile grow wider.

LUCAS FIRMLY DOES NOT BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT, like come on—who believes in love like that these days? naive little kids? newly adolescent noble ladies? men of high and poor status? it’s simply too . . . unlikely to actually happen in his eyes. the butterflies when you meet “the love of your life’s” eyes? could be the early signs of constipation. the flush in your cheeks when there’s too much prolonged eye contact with them and the dizziness of your heart and mind? could be an oncoming migraine, headache, or a sign you're being possessed by some evil spirit, y’know? anyways, enough joking aside—the point is, he finds the subject some far-fetched fairytale that is highly impossible even with the magic he has—that is, until, you waltz into his life. the things he feels when he's around you is something that could be described as a contradiction. the first gazing into your eyes turns the world upside and back again, the first brush against your fingertips suck all the air out of his chest, the first chuckle that he manages to rouse from deep within your giddy joy paints him a shade darker than his eyes from head to toe—holy fuck were there a lot of firsts that made him experience everything and anything all at once; with most he can't even explain properly without sounding so . . lovesick. god do you make him sick to the last bone with whatever sorcery you possess. in short; when in love, lucas is everything that correlates to being stupidly infatuated and is constantly reeling himself in by a hair’s breadth back to the surface when you smile, laugh, or simply exist next to him—like, can you imagine how utterly moronic it is to see how degenerate he’s become from before you?! . . . but, if it makes you happy, he’ll gladly be idiotic for the rest of his life (though, that depends if you're gonna annoy him or not).

✦ — @khasmies 2023.

[rodolfoparras]

Lowkey feel like your feticizing FTM. I've read a lot of your writing and I've seen mostly ftm characters, mainly smut, and I don't know if I looked hard enough but like no actual ftm problems. I've only seen it being sexualised. And your pretty much only using masculine pronouns, you write the characters as if they were women, only masc pronouns. I understand if it is the reader who is ftm, like cool. Or maybe your not and I'm reading to far into it, cause this is basically what every writer does.

Sugar I don’t really think I understand what you’re saying.

1. I’ve never counted the amount of ftm pieces I’ve done but Im 100% sure they’re not the majority of my work. I looked through my writing tag and the most recent ftm piece i did was my price piece. Edit I just checked, for the month of February I wrote one single ftm price piece, and in the month of January I wrote 2 ftm Price pieces.

2. This is a smut account. I do not depict issues and struggles in what’s supposed to be a smut piece. I have nothing else to say to this. I apologize.

3. I don’t really understand the “you write the characters as if they’re women” part because I do not feel that I do so nor has anyone told me this before and I’ve written for a year now. So I don’t really know how to respond to this part 😭 Edit: do you mayhaps mean when I discuss 141 getting pregnant specifically price? I get that’s not everyone’s cup of tea and I can always put a tag so you can filter out those asks/ pieces of writing

4. I also don’t understand “if the reader is ftm cool”. Do you mean it’d be okay if I wrote trans reader but not trans characters? To that i say, I see nothing wrong with writing trans characters. I think there are more trans characters pieces out here than trans reader pieces.

5. Lastly, if it can bring you some comfort I am a trans dude, my intentions with my writing is not to cause harm and I’m really sorry you got the wrong impression of my account

[thewriterg]

𝐂𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭

pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x afab!reader, john ‘soap’ mactavish x afab!reader, task force 141 x afab!reader

summary; You and Ghost weren’t the least bit pleased when you both were roped into Soaps shenanigans for a costume contest but deep down you’d do anything to see the smile on his face —flufftober day;1—

word count; 1.3k+

warnings(s); readers call sign is “coma”, soap having two of the most deadliest soldiers worldwide wrapped around his finger, and language

A/n:—GIFs; @silenthqll & @une-femme-de-lettres— OCTOBER IS HERE WRITERS‼️

“C’mon Hen it’s just dress up for one night” Soap pouted following behind you as you made your way to the cafeteria as you denied him for the seventh time in a day over the same thing he was prominent as hell over dressing up in matching costumes for Halloween and of course reasonably you declined

“Johnny, darling. You’re gonna drive me mad go sit down with Simon I’ll be there in a few” With a small huff the Scot was storming away with the attitude of a toddler as you stood in line for you alls lunch

Ghost perked up from his cup of tea in the furthest table in the cafeteria his chair against the wall as he watched the Scot approach him muttering things to himself with his arms crossed over his chest before sitting in his usual chair with a huff and before Simon could even humor himself in asking him what was wrong the Scot was already rambling of his troubles to the Brit

“You think it’s reasonable aye?” He spoke with a roll of his eyes while Ghost huffed mirroring his actions before grumbling under his breath his voice gruff and deep

“Sure MacTavish”

Soon you were walking towards the booth two trays of food in your hand setting them down gently in front of the men and taking your own seat nothing but a cup of coffee in your grasp as you had sparing right after and preferred to not vomit on your to save yourselves the trouble settling in your chair with a grunt as moments of silence passed you all Ghosts mask lifted below the tip of his nose so he could eat

“You know Ghost thinks it’s a good idea if we dress up” Soap stated suddenly causing the war criminal to clear his throat trying not to choke on the food in his mouth as you peered over you cup of coffee looking the Scot in the eye you gaze sharp like a siren as you hummed

“Is that so?” Your gaze adverted to the Brit who looked at you with blown pupils you had to learn how to read Simon since he pledged his face being covered like the plague but the main starter note you could give to anyone in need?

That man had more expressive eyes than a mime

“Come on love, you know the mutt it putting us against each other” It took everything in you not to chuckle or at least crack a smirk at the look he’d given Soap as if he wanted his head on a chopping block which he looked like he didn’t have an ounce of regret for the interrogation he caused and running out of options he pulled his last stunt

was is it petty? maybe

would it get his point across? absolutely

“It was jus’ a thought don’t worry too much ‘bout it” The Scott mumbled standing from his seat before taking his tray of half eaten food and walking away from the table with a drag of his feet causing you and Ghost to glance at each other little did you know that was just the beginning

💌💌💌💌

For the rest of the day the Scott was unusually quiet and only spoke when spoken to you picked up on the behavior quick and you weren’t stupid you knew that he was trying to manipulate you but you were sick of watching him sulk like a kicked puppy so when Soap had got up to leave the meeting room you threw a glance to Simon who stealthily followed in your footsteps as you went to go corner the Scott in the comfort of your shared chambers that had took too much paper work and a white lie with the help of Price about being married for you all to get to share a room and become each others next of kin

With non faltering steps and long strides you had made it to your room in a mere minute slipping through the door with no regard to see Soap standing putting on what looked to be his loungewear switching from the army print cargo pants, long sleeve compression shirt, and steel toe boots to grey sweatpants, a white wife beater, and thick socks

“Ye need somethin’ Bonnie?” The Scott mumbled looking to you with a tinge of mock sadness in the back of his throat that had Ghost rolling his eyes at the sight from towering behind you

“Stop mopin’ Johnny I’ll wear the damn costume” The words slipped pass the cloth of his balaclava into the air of your room accent prominent, voice gruff, and eyes annoyed and the Scott was as bright as ever again before his eyes adverted to you staring at him with a deadpan expression and before he could even start with his puppy dog expressions you were already nodding your head with the roll of your eyes

To say the Soap was ecstatic was an understatement and you began to regret your decision fairly quickly when he went on an hour long rant about what he wanted to dress up as and a even longer rant when you and Simon had no idea what ‘Mr and Mrs Smith’ was

So you had spent majority of your night watching the film with hushed giggles and laughter whenever Ghost would complain about the quality of the fight scenes which was fairly advanced for the time in the early 2000s But lt didn’t fail to amuse you when the blonde scoffed before muttering something like

“Amateurs”

“Yeah draw even slower you bloody daft”

But you had fortunately got through the movie in one piece before coming to the realization that

youd need two suits and a dress

💌💌💌💌

“Here comes the life of the party yea!?” Gaz announced as You, Ghost, and Soap walked towards the table everyone in the pub dressed up as a different range of characters you rolled your eyes at him a hint of playfulness in the mix of your eyes and before you could speak Gaz was gasping

“You didn’t!” The smirk on Johnny’s face was prominent as he wiped non existent dust off the shoulder of his black suit jacket identical to Simon’s who meekly huffed at the brunette as you smirked a fitted black dress against your body heels standing strong against the sticky bar floor and topping the look in the visible slit of your dress was a thigh holster that held a pistol that may or may not have been real identical to the ones in the belt of your partners

“You’ve done it” Gaz cheered along side Soap probably a few drink in dressed in slacks with a white button down that had blood staining the collar prosthetic fangs creating a small lisp when he spoke while Price shook his head at the sight of his two youngest recruits on their way to get a round for the first table the Captain himself dressed in jeans, a flannel, brown boots and a matching cowboy hat to match it was a sight for sure

You and Simon had took a seat in the booth making sure it was room for Johnny when he’d returned as you listened to Ghost tease your captain on his costume choice which caused a mock roasting session amongst them both as you held back the laughter in your throat

“Dinnae tell me party’s already started” The strong accent evaded your ears as a round of shots were placed in front of all of you

“As if anyone you forgot about you” Your voice carried sarcasm and the Scott just grinned in response before taking a Drink and toast it up which you were all soon to follow before downing it in one go

As you and Simon looked at each other you knew you were ruined

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[zyonsay]

hi z!!

could you please do a lando request??

the reader is afab and they’re pronouns are they/he and maybe he (the reader) is just having a bad day because, first of all they just woke up in a crappy mood because they’re feeling dysphoric (and i know i get cranky like hell when this happens) and then they see hate comments like purposely misgendering the reader in lando’s comment section!!

and then lando both kinda goes off on twitter about it, while comforting reader just talking about how he’s the best boyfriend/partner

(that’s all i have take it from here😭😭)

btw you’re one of the few writers that i know off that do male!readers

OH and i saw how it said to say if the afab/amab is a big thing, so YES him being a afab is a big deal to the story!!

LOVE YOU POOKIE💗💗

Love you, no matter what LN4

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: Dysphoria sucks ass

Warnings: Queerphobia, Slurs: Tr@nny/f@g

Now playing: 'Blonde Chaya sped up' by Amaru & Gringo Bamba

AN: Hey there pookie! Thank you so much for this request!! I also get cranky asf when im dysphoric. ok well admittedly, im always cranky . But anyways! I made some teeny tiny changes and i hope that's alright! Love you!

Fun Fact of the day: My biology teacher is a skinwalker

(i'll rage if there isn't a brit shaped present under the tree by the 24th)

A loud, irritated groan left your figure as you fought with nothing in particular. That was a lie. You fought with yourself right now.

The t shirt clung to your figure because of the cold sweat you woke up in and your hair was an absolute mess. The spot next to you on the bed was empty, you knew that your most loved one was probably on a stream.

Scrambling from the bed you passed the long mirror on the bedroom wall; another irritated huff left you. That feeling of being trapped in the wrong body snaked up your leg and pierced you right in your heart. Maybe a cup of hot tea or coffee will cheer you up.

You passed the office, hearing a loud groan from withing, followed by your boyfriend’s voice, explaining how unfair it was for him to get shot ten seconds after joining the game.

The water boiler hummed loudly as you sat on the barstool by the kitchen island, slumped over like a sad little bag of potatoes. You also felt like one. Yet another groan erupted from the office, making you think of something. Quickly fetching your phone from the pockets of your shorts, you opened Whatsapp and sent Lando a quick text. It was almost comical how you could hear him talk to his audience about you.

“My lovely boyfriend just asked if I wanted some tea!”, he giggled like a giddy child. Brits and their tea. He sent you a text back, telling you he’ll be in the kitchen in a few minutes, he just wanted to wrap the stream up.

Then his eyes landed on a username consisting of various numbers and letters. ‘Ew bro, you still dating that f@g? Thought u moved on lolz’ The blood in his veins froze and he felt the anger boiling in the pit of his stomach. Another one popped up, this time from a different viewer. ‘OMG WAIT is it that Tr@nny he once showed lmao, Lan you can do better smh’ And with that a stream of vile words erupted as the strangers on the other side of the screen began vomiting senseless hate. ‘No fucking way. I bet y’all a million bucks that I’d be a less embarrassing wag lol’

What he had missed in this mess of hate comments was that ‘y/n.02’ had joined the stream and saw the hateful words through teary eyes. You clutched your phone with a desperate grip as you sobbed.

“Y’all need to fucking grow up and accept it. I love my boyfriend.” was all he said before swiftly clicking ‘end stream’ and rushing out of the office. He found you with glistening tears streaming down your face and a red, sniffling nose. Immediately, Lando threw his arms around you, pulling you up from the barstool and into a tight hug. “Don’t listen to them darling”, his voice was sweet and almost as quiet as the breath you let out after that. His T shirt was soaked with your tears, but he couldn’t care less. “I love you so fucking much. And nothing can change that. You’re the best damn thing that happened to me.”, his big, gentle hands rubbed your back and traced patterns over your t shirt.

Lando pulled away and looked you intently in the eyes. He closed the distance between you two and embraced you in a sweet, loving kiss.

“Let’s drink some tea baby.”, Brits and their fucking tea.

[annomalysstuff]

What are some of your favorite character relationships/dynamics in TMNT, and why? Is there anything that you particularly like seeing explored with them in fan works (art, writing, comics, etc)?

I really like Leo and Mikey's dynamic, specially because it isn't as popular as the dynamic with the rest of the brothers

I really like the fact that Mikey really looks up to Leo and is the one that doubts him the least. Like in 2012 (spoilers for S4 2012) after splinter died I really liked seeing Leo behaving like a parent and Mikey just rolling with it (like that scene of Leo telling Mikey to stop playing a videogame)

Another dynamic I wish was more explored is rottmnt Donnie and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. mainly because the writers forgot (or didn't have time to *cough cough ) to show Donnie's reaction to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. being destroyed, like, the impact it had on Donnie afterwards. And also we didn't see almost any interaction with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. and his uncle's and aunt >:( (For example I think he would really get along with Leo because he's less serious than Donnie)

And in terms on relationships, I'm not really a fan of shipping (nothing wrong with it, just not my cup of tea), but it would have been cool to see Raph and Mona Lisa more in 2012

Also, not really a dynamic but in idw (spoilers from idw) I would have LOVED to see more of the mutant city, like in that mini comic with Jennika

[lovelykhaleesiii]

RANT because I have to get this off my chest…

I doubt anyone will see this, because I don’t think my posts show on people’s pages but whatever.

and whether you agree with me or not, I don’t really give a fuck but this needs to be said, because this is my personal experience.

as someone that’s been on Tumblr for a few years now & in quite a lot of fandoms, I’ve never really experienced what I have since joining the HOTD fandom. and no it shouldn’t be reasoned with because I joined later AFTER the show aired, nor should it be because I’m a “small” blog. these bullshit excuses should not be the reason for being so fucking uninviting, period. why must I reiterate this…

most of the reason why I get turned off easily within the HOTD fandom is because of how often I see pages forming little cliques and being selective in their inclusivity. “oh but they’re my mutuals” okay great!!!

there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, in fact I have met my own amazing people through this fandom that I would die for, and I encourage you to meet friends (side note - be careful online) but that doesn’t mean you have to strike out or ignore anyone that tries to initiate a conversation or shows support for your blog/work and for it to be not be reciprocated. you guys are so quick to talk about how difficult it is to be a fic writer and to appease people, and yet how exactly are you helping? like cmon I thought I left this shit in high school man, it’s just embarrassing now…

the mutuals I first met in this fandom, as lovely as they were I don’t talk to anymore. why? because I showed my genuine support, put the effort in although it wasn’t being reciprocated, it felt very one sided. and that’s okay, life happens I completely understand that and don’t hold that against you for being inactive. but seeing them later constantly interact with other “big” blogs, all very back and forth between the pages, and be pushed to the side is a very shitty feeling. don’t be an asshole, it’s really not that fucking hard…

and I still support works that aren’t necessarily my cup of tea, and no I’m not bragging but it’s what I fucking do. and the fact I wasn’t receiving the same fucking hurts.

and yes it’s easy to shrug and say “write for yourself, you should be writing for yourself.” which yes I have been, and the whole reason why I began writing in the first place was for myself, cause these ideas that I write and indulge in are mostly for my own “personal” entertainment LOL. but don’t sit there and tell me you don’t get a rush of excitement when someone reblogs/comments on your work, that genuine, incredible feeling when you can bond with other people over your work or when people commemorate your efforts. it’s easier to say “write for yourself” when you haven’t experienced poor or no engagement, and see others receiving constant appraisal and instinctively compare. it’s a natural, normal human response, people will and can’t help themselves to compare.

so stop with this whole clique shit, I’m so fucking over it.

and to the newcomers I’ve met so far, you’ve all been so incredible and your work sensational, continue doing you. it’s THEIR losses, not yours. for the people that can relate to me, I’m sorry you have to go through this but just know you’ll have my full support always.

and I mean… if you want I can be a bitch too, but you’re not going to like it. that’s for fucking sure…

[the-fiction-witch]

Study

Media - Nanny Mcphee Character - Simon Brown (Age Up) Couple - Simon X Reader Reader - Y/n (Wife) Rating - 12 Word Count - 1073 Requested- You have to do more Simon Brown x reader stuff🙏 Love your stories, keep it up! <3

The house sat perfectly peaceful, the sound of the rain muffling the world beyond the stained glass windows. The gentle pottering and pattering of the raindrops falling onto the various surfaces, a gentle tickle of the windchime still playing its tune in this storm. Within the house the log burner crackled and popped as the damp would burn on the hot flames, the lights out as the power never worked in the rain and storms leaving the room lit only by the log burner's flames and the candles that littered the room. The only sound to break through it all was the clicking and clacking of typewriter keys being elegantly danced over, with the familiar sound of the spool being pushed back at the end of each line.

Simon Brown sat at the desk, typewriter under his hands. He worked diligently and speedily, copying down from the previous draft that sat on the desk beside him the typer writer key marks littered with pencil notes to implement. Mostly misspellings, punctuation and formatting elements. His small wooden bin beside his desk overflowing with crumpled pages.

He wore brown trousers, and a light cream button down his sleeves rolled to his elbows so as to not risk catching the cuffs in the typewriter's often vicious keys, a blue waistcoat embroidered softly with birds only noticeable in the lights shimmer. All his clothes fit him comfortably with signs of alteration in the seams showing their wear. His blonde locks were messy as he often ran his hand through them absentmindedly when he was thinking, his tongue between his teeth as he worked, with his favoured pencil behind his ear.

A gentle creaking grows louder in the halls of the house and soon enough the study door opens to reveal Simon’s wife, Y/n Brown.

She dressed in her sky blue and cream dress with a square neckline and cap sleeves, a lobster tail crinoline, and a large blue bow at the small of her back, the dress hemmed just perfectly so she could still see her little house slippers when she walked. Her hair pinned up in an intricate milkmaid braid, and her baby bump notably poking itself out as she swells larger. She carries with her a small tray with a teacup, saucer, sugar, milk, a plate of three small muffins and a teapot with a knitted cosy on top.

When he hears her come in he flips his draft page over hiding the contents and immediately stops typing resting his elbows on the desk, his hands clasped together and he set his chin on his hands.

“I’m not disturbing am I?” She asked softly,

“No. No. you’re alright.” he answered,

“I come baring tea,” She cooed as she set the tray down on his desk far from any of his important papers, and she poured him the first cup, “It’s elderflower and rose today,”

“No more Lemon and tea tree?”

“Unfortunately not, you have the last for bed.”

“Fu-” He began but his eyes met her as she gave him a very threatening look, “Fudge.” He corrected,

“Umm,” she hummed,

“I said fudge! Nothing wrong with some delicious fudge,” he said taking his tea and having a small sip,

“Yes, but it’s what you were going to say,” she warned,

“No idea’ what you're talking about, I was going to say fudge.”

“Course you were Simon,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes as she tied around his office, “That damn clock has stopped again.” She sighed tapping the old mantle clock hoping it would begin to tick again,

“It has?”

“Hadn’t you noticed it hasn’t moved in three hours?”

“... I’ll be honest, I kinda just thought I was being really productive today.” He sighed, “I was wondering why you were bringing me tea so early,”

“You need a new one, don’t need to give you an excuse to be locked in here all day any more than you already have.”

“I know, It’s just sentimental Y/n,” He sighed, “I’ll pop it somewhere else and head to the market next Sunday to see if we can find one,”

She nodded and went to his small bin gathering any fallen papers, “May I?”

“You may,” He nodded re-reading his writing,

“Are you sure?” She asked picking it up,

“I’m very sure,” he nodded,

“Final answer,” she warned as she opened the log burner door,

“You may throw it away Y/n I promise.”

“Alright then,” she nodded starting to toss the crumpled papers on the fire,

He sighed seeing his hours of work be burnt but he knew it was all scrap anyway,

She returned the empty bin to beside his desk and had a peak over his shoulder to read what he’d written but he put a hand over her eyes, “Hey!”

“It’s not done.” He glared, “Keep those adorable little eyes off Mrs.”

“Just a little snippet?”

“Nope.” He chuckled, “Go on, scamper.”

“Fine,” she pouted,

“Ohh before you go have you seen my pencil anywhere?” He asked,

She chuckled softly and pulled it from behind his ear as always,

“Ah! Thank you Y/n,” he smiled, he took the pencil and then her hand giving her knuckles a tender kiss just beside her wedding ring, he then took her bump in his hands softly stroking her dress as he cradled her belly giving the baby within a big kiss, “Hello little boy, you cosy in mummy’s belly? Yeah? You stay nice and warm in there then till your all ready to come for cuddles,” he cooed,

“He likes it when you talk to him,”

“He does?”

“Of course, he always stops wiggling when you talk to him,”

“Doesn’t that mean he doesn’t like me?”

“No, he’s happy, he’s listening and enjoying daddies cuddles,”

“Awww my sweet little boy,” he cooed kissing her bump one more time, “I’ll see you later for dinner?”

“Of course, I’ll come and get you,” She smiled,

“Can I get a kiss from my lovely wife before she goes?”

“You may,” she nodded leaning down to give his lips a small peck,

“Love you,” he cooed rubbing his nose on hers,

“Love you too Simon,” she smiled before she left his study going to do various other chores around the house,

Simon tried to hide the blush that still rose to his cheeks even after so long being married to her, he still got all blushy and giddy when she kissed him or told him she loved him. He took another sip of tea before turning his page back over and continuing on with his work, now with a wide and cheery smile. 

[lagncx]

ugly?!

( hi…so you know I’m not a good writer please don’t go back and look if you're new but I came back and here I am with fruits for you people. I think you should know I’m not fully educated in the world of AOT. This is supposed to be post-war Levi so apologies if everything is wrong or something. The reader is kinda something I came up with a long time ago cause I’m such a creative person…it’s stupid but you're a titan shifter in a way however yours is a wolf form..please don’t ask it just fits in with your character in this but u are a female my readers tend to be confident and dorky especially when I do one for Levi. You're taller. And yea please enjoy)

You sighed and cut your hair in the bathroom of your shared room. It was late and you tried to keep it quiet for Levi so he could rest but your dumbass made the cup Levi kept for his daily pills fall “ah shit.” You put the cup back on the counter and your eyes saw that pale face in the mirror peaking in the doorway “your home late.” You heard Levi softly say his face emotionless, his good eye looked at you and you could see a little red. “Levi..have you been crying-“Before you could finish Levi’s eyes gazed upon you looking into your eyes that showed nothing but concern, his eyes glossy, that milky white eye shining like a Pearl. “Do you…think I’m ugly?” You almost thought he was joking but those eyes spoke millions of words in just one moment. “Of course not my love. Why would you ask such a thing?” Levi winced in pain, his body was sore “You pushed yourself hard at recovery therapy again?” Levi shook his head as he rubbed the back of his neck groaning his eyes closed tight. “No…I was observing the new one's training and I-…” he looked down “went to go workout to see if I could even stay fit and guess I just hurt myself in the middle of kickboxing.” You crossed your arms “Levi you can’t put pressure on your body! You still have a long way off-“ “Of what?!” He snapped his eyes snapped to you piercing you and making you close your mouth like a force “That ‘therapy’ makes me feel like a fucking vegetable I feel shitty always standing to the side trying to instruct inexperienced fighters to fight without fucking being able to show them how by doing it” he cursed as he grabbed his hair in his fist’s breathing heavy panicking and you felt your heart sting your poor baby you couldn’t even imagine how it must feel you gently but firmly grabbed both of his wrists “breathe baby…let go. It’s okay to be upset but don’t hurt yourself okay? Easy…” your voice was gentle barely a whisper Levi had these attacks a lot now you could only form that they came cause of his fears of not being able to live like normal people or do things but Levi was just naturally anxious his grip on his hair stayed but your fingers slithered their way on top of his hands from his wrists which from the cold of your hands made his grip loosen “come on baby.” Levi let go of his hair pulling away from you almost as if he was embarrassed. “Come on…let’s-…go to the mess hall kitchen. I know they're a cup of tea that’ll love to accompany your belly~” you said in a sweet tone. Levi stayed silent, his face was his resting bitch face and he just made way for you to leave the bathroom with “your hair.” You heard Levi say behind you his fingers reaching to graze the undone section “Oh-…hm who knows maybe I’ll leave it just trimmed on one side. Kinda sexy.” You chuckled as you stepped out the room door Levi was close behind but silence ‘Not even gonna make insults to my stupidity…that bad huh?’ You thought as you and Levi walked through the dark halls lit by the moon “About the…ugly thing why ask me about that?” You looked down as you walked, him to your side, his hands resting at his sides, making his steps almost hauntingly silent compared to your combat boots leaving your heavy impression on the wood panel floors. It was super crazy to you how you and Levi got together. You two were the opposite. “I…was eavesdropping on a conversation during training. So maybe I shouldn’t have taken it to heart knowing it was my bad and they were new so I-“ “Levi.” Your voice called out to him your arm holding open the door to the mess hall for him, Levi walked in “Thank you. But they-…”

——Earlier——

Levi sighed in relief as one of the recruits finally got the takedown almost flawlessly “Good. We can work more on your confidence later. Till then- Chores!” Levi yelled to the other groups some nodded and some groaned and complained and Levi just blew a laugh through his nose as he headed to the horse stables almost turning into the doors till he heard a familiar name…yours “I mean…she’s amazing and so strong. But…Levi, he’s the total opposite” Two girls were cleaning the pens for both Levi and your horse so he sees why the topic of conversation could turn to you two but Levi didn’t care much he could give two shits about what the gossip was in your relationship cause it was yours and not anybody else’s he was gonna step in to interrupt their conversation with a smart remark but then “I mean it's sad she has to wake up to that sight” Levi’s feet halted, his eyes went from an unbothered look to a look of terror ‘The hell?! The fuck do they mean’ Levi struggled in his head debating whether to confront or listen “I mean…those scars, his hand…or that eye…it’s almost like a dying cow” said the girl wiping her forehead “he’s hideous and just how can he satisfy her needs or we'll give her a family” Levi swallowed the spit hoping to push the lump in his throat he took a step back disappearing.

——now And I don't know…it's just been lingering in my mind.” The world was silent except for the piping and creaky wooden structures of the building. Levi looked up through his hair seeing you glare at the tea kettle, your jaw was clenched and your breathing uneven but not loud almost like you wanted blood. “ Y/n…they were girls just gossip I shouldn't get so worked up” Levi walked up to you, his hand sliding up your arm now you needed to be comforted…no, You needed to be calmed. “love?” he whispered now fully in front of you looking up at you his hand caressing your face you simply leaned into his hand sighing softly Levi jumped from the feeling of your hand caressing his back then his… other hands the one Levi was worried about when it came to you but you gently took it putting it on your chest giving Levi a look before bringing it up for a kiss it was a conversation without words the sound of your lips on his skin the sensation communicated Love. “I'm sorry they said those things. They'll regret it.” Levi sighed “No need to do that my love let us just head to bed after the tea is done” he pleaded hoping you'd come to your senses but your eyes were dark staring into nothing like you were looking through him.

Levi smiled as the tea soothed and warmed him. You made it exactly how he liked it…you remembered, holding it gently as you both made it up to your room that was until you stopped “What is it?” Levi could read you like a book feeling your suspicious aura as he looked in your direction hearing faint giggling and whispers “Shhh be quiet they might hear us sneaking a drink!” Levi's eyes went wide and looked at you as the two girls turned the corner “That's them..” You shared a look with him before putting on a smile and stepping forward purposefully loudly crossing your arms and making the girls jump “Hello new gals! It's inappropriate to be out this hour. Sure do hope you both have a good explanation” The girls straightened up “Y/N! Captain Levi! We were just uh-..” the girl trailed off and her friend who you knew as Ava stepped forward “Some night food we got hungry." Ava said as she smiled at you “Hm…I see. Be on your way” You stepped to the side pulling Levi along though he was ready to confront the girls, lecturing him there was something in your grip that told him quietly as they walked in front of you both your voice was a cold stern tone “Wait a second.” The girls jumped and stopped turning to face you. Levi looked at you and your eyes were closed “I'm hoping you know me and Levi are together don't you?” you asked, “Yes of course!” Said Ava with a smile “So you know he means a lot to me if not the whole world? Yes?” the girls nodded sharing glances you opened your eyes your face pushing intimidation and rage

“So how do you think I should handle those with the balls to ever? Disrespect him after he has done so much for us?”

Levi looked at the girls who looked at Levi in terror “S-sir. Were so-” you stepped in front of Levi “You did not. Answer my question, but I know how you both can make it up to Levi” you walked between the girls as you placed a hand on their shoulders and whispered “kneel.” They shook and hesitated only a moment and kneeled “Good, now Bow your heads and apologize” You sneered at the girls and they apologized to Levi. You looked up at him “Satisfied? Or do they need a bit more of a push?” You raised a brow to Levi who shook his head “Enough. Both of you return to your rooms. y/n…stop it.” You sighed standing straight pulling the girls up by their shirts and smiling “See you gals at breakfast bye bye!!” You laughed pushing them off as they hurried on their own back around the corner. You smiled at Levi who glared at you and scoffed, his voice insulting your “childish behavior.” He turned and headed up the stairs towards your shared room struggling slightly but didn’t accept your help and you pouted. Levi stopped catching his breath, you sighed pushing yourself up behind him, arms wrapping around his stomach “I’m sorry babe, It wasn’t my place.” You massaged his hip making him hiss but relax in some sort of relief “I’m upset that you had to defend me…when I’m a grown man.” Levi played with your fingers, sighing tiredly “I should’ve called them out…instead, I asked if you thought I was ugly when I knew you’d say no'' You inhaled Levi's scent “When we get up there can we…” Levi whispered and avoided finishing the sentence but “Oh my Levi don't tell me my touch has got you excited~” you giggled before feeling the stinging pain of levis nail pinching a vein in your hand which your laughs turned into screams “Asshole you know what I meant!” Levi snarled you whimpered looking at the bruise on your hand as you both continued up the stairs “for a vegetable you're still like you…cruel.” you rubbed your booboo “but I know what you meant…we can finish that book. But I don’t know why you like me reading it.” You shrugged and you both made it to the door “Your voice…soothes me.” Levi said looking at his hand on the knob “helps me sleep…you know how little I get. Even worse when I feel sore…” he opened the door and you both walked in “But if you don’t want to read to me…that’s okay.” He rubbed his shoulders it was always chilly in your guy's room. Seeing Levi’s clothes tighten around him as he held himself made your face hot “did you know you have a banging hot bod?” You said Levi turned to you and glared “The hell?! Can you stop being such a shitty-ass therapist!!” You laughed as Levi threw the book at you and you caught it. You looked at Levi who had a small smile. Levi was always conscious about you and him and space when he wanted you to touch him, where, how, why. But since being together he’s been more open not having to ask and right now you were so close “You’re so beautiful my Pearl…” you said looking down into Levi’s eyes your empty hand on his hips pulling him gently into you earning a rewarding sigh of approval from him “your not getting any tonight you know?” Levi said smiling at you “Awe dang well guess I’ll throw in the towel” you joked sharing a kiss with him “I love you” you said to him and he replied with an “Me too.” Which meant a lot Never have you seen a more beautiful painting of a man than the one in front of you

[imjulia-andilikecats]

Why I Ship Mareven and Yes, I'm Aware that They're Toxic

I've noticed a couple of posts questioning how some readers ship Mareven given how toxic it was and proceed to list off all the terrible things that they did to each other through out the series.

Before I start my rant. Warning, this is long and I might just ramble at the end. Also please be reminded that these are MY reasons, as to why I enjoy this ship. I don't represent the whole Mareven shipping team. I made this post based on MY observation and the desire to absolve myself from the feeling of shame for liking Mareven.

We can't deny it. Anyone who read the series, even just the first book could easily tell that Mareven is toxic.

Which leads to the most common question for this ship. Why is Mare and Maven still being shipped even after Maven's betrayal and even past Glass Sword?

Simple, it's their unique and complex dynamic. They are both deeply flawed characters that have frightening similarities. Which could have lead to a wonderful friendship or a romantic one.

However, due to their social status and political beliefs. Mare joining the Scarlet Guard to free the Reds and Newbloods from Silver rule. Maven wanting to be king of Norta and was willing to do ANYTHING to keep his crown . They are of opposition to each other's goals, which lead them being sworn enemies. Causing severe pain and suffering to the other, when given the opportunity.

Yet, there would be moments between the cruel actions and harsh words. Where one of them would show affection in hopes of rekindling what they had and the other mourning the person that they thought they knew.

Even viewing them through the lense of a non-shipper. They have a fascinating exchange of dialogue and the uncomfortable amount of tension whenever they are near each other, even the mere mention of the other's name would momentarily push them off balance. There was simply no dull moment between these two.

The REAL question should be: "Is Mareven being a toxic ship REALLY the reason some readers dislike the ship OR is there something else at play?

Before I continue: It's understandable not to like a ship, if a toxic relationships between fictional characters aren't your cup of tea.

However! I don't think "being toxic" should be the daming reason to fully drop a ship and EXPECT everyone else to do so. Because I feel that those Mareven Ship "Dislikers" don't seem to detect the MAIN cause of their dislike for this ship.

I think the dislike of the ship could be attributed from some Mareven fanfics and shippers. Maybe they dislike how they treated Mare and Maven when paired together.

For example: Mare being seen as an object or tool in fixing Maven and making him happy. Void of any emotion or flaws, as she is simply an extension to the desires and fantasies of the writer. Other cases, some Mareven shippers openly trash Mare for not reciprocating Maven's affections, as they see him as a unloved child that needs a hug. Seeming to forget that Maven is completely capable of committing atocities against the people he "loves" and other characters that were unfortunate enough to encounter him and his mother.

The simplification and misinterpretation of both complex characters once they are viewed as a couple is frustrating.

Which is why I think the EXTERNAL FACTORS, such as SOME Mareven fanfics and shippers surrounding the Mareven ship, are MOSTLY the cause that ignited the dislike for the ship not just Mareven being toxic.

To put it simply, there is nothing wrong or shameful for liking a toxic ship like Mareven. It does not AUTOMATICALLY mean you have a twisted perception of what a functioning relationship should be nor have poor reading comprehension.

I also noticed that some of those post that dislike Mareven are also Maven fans, claiming that Maven is their favorite character and are also aware of his flaws (and crimes).

So, I can even throw the same argument to them.

What's the difference between liking Maven Calore, one of the main antagonist of the series that caused harm to a number of characters, and liking Mareven that is a toxic ship where both characters were toxic towards each other?

Note: Since it's a veey messy essay. I am more than open for a discussion.

[hotchfiles]

Lari, I apologize in advance, but I really want to add to the discussion of writers supporting writers, because it makes my blood boil sometimes, lol, and I'm sorry if this gets long, and if i sound like a bitch but....

Okay, first off, interaction is important, period! Doesn't matter if you have no followers, if you are a writer with a few followers, or a writer with a lot of followers interaction is important, in every sense! And writers with a lot of followers should be VERY aware of that, because once upon a time, they were a smaller blog too, wishing for people to interact with their works.

Writers especially feed on the interaction, and especially seeing people's thoughts and opinions on their works, and that's where the comments and reblogs come into play!

One thing, that apparently, some big blogs seem to either forget, or not give a sh*t about anymore, because they are just too big now. People are interacting with their works, so they've made it, right? Wrong, because once again, your readers, and their interaction with your works made you big! So, instead of being high and mighty, return the favor by boosting the works you liked reading, written by smaller blogs! (Side note, I'm not hating on anyone, calling anyone out specifically, or etc. But I was a writer in another fandom once, and it was much the same, and it grated on my nerves then, and it's grating on my nerves now)

I was a writer that only used to like, when I was running my old blog, but on this one, reblog, reblog, reblog. Doesn't matter that I don't have a huge number of followers that can benefit from recs, I'm supporting the writer, and to me, that's the most important.

On the mutuals matter, I think you said it right. My works might not be my mutuals cup of tea, or theirs might not be mine. One thing i wanna add here, even if I have mutuals, who's works I don't read because x, y, z, every once in a while I'd reblog a work of theirs and be like "check out this person's works, they write great (character) fics". To me that's just a way to boost your moots, and who knows, maybe someone that follows you actually likes their works.

On indirectly being asked to read their stuff, I think there's nothing wrong with that, BUT! Like you said, if I'm going to support you, I'd expect you to support me too. It's not hard. I myself have asked others to read my works (on my old blog), but I've made sure to interact with them via asks, read and interact with their works, before and after asking! And not because I want to be transactional or anything, but because I genuinely enjoy their works, and asking them to read mine, yes, it might boost me up, but i just want to hear what some of my favorite writers think about something I've written. Later, those same people became my mutuals and I loved that we lifted each other up!

Finally, if some people aren't comfortable interacting, that's completely and totally fine!  What I wrote is for the writers, that honestly should know how tumblr and the community works, well enough to know that boosting people and interacting with people makes for a greater overall experience!

And to the anon that started this whole thing (if they are even reading this, lol), continue being supportive and interesting with the blogs you love, and the works you enjoy! If you still want to read the works of the writers you talked about, be a silent reader, lol. Like you said, they're doing fine! Devote your time and energy and interact with the people that will support you back, and are sweet and kind to you! And, be the person you are now, supportive, because it seems some writers tend to lose sight of where they came from when they grow, and to the ones that don't, you rock!

Again, I'm so sorry for this being so long, lol🥴 (also, if I'm being too bitchy, feel free to ignore and delete this, lol)

i dont even have anything to add you said it perfectly

i love that you mentioned the transaction part because YEAH its not about being a transaction or anything of the sort, its about being reciprocal, and treating others works like you want yours to be treated

i genuinely love reading and helping so i dont mind at all when people ask for me to do that, i just feel like that if you enjoy either my fics enough for that, i should be seeing you reblogging or commenting my fics and the people (really, people, it happens quite frequently) i mentioned just never ever ever reblogged or commented on any of it 😭

i honestly thought i was exaggerating it but it seems its been happening to a lot of writers so

please, writers (especially if you complain about comments and reblogs)

be reciprocal