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parkerluvsu · 2 months ago

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nsfw alphabet for art donaldson.. not requested but i wanted to do it so.. enjoy it!!! <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): i think that art definitely feels the pressure of society to be the dominate person in a relationship, so he does all the classic stuff, cleaning you up, brushing your hair cuddling with you.. but as he gets more comfortable in your relationship i think that he is open about the fact that he wants to be taken care of too.. he wants aftercare to be mutual, and he wants you to clean him up and tuck him into bed just like he does for you <3

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): art definitely isn't one to toot his own horn.. but if he was being honest i think he'd say his abs! he's worked so hard for them, training everyday + he likes when you rake your fingernails down them <3 for his partner.. i think he would say their hands! i think that art just generally runs cold, so having his partner warm him up with their hands would be like... a dream. also he just loves getting shoulder massages and getting his hair played with! (and all the other good things you can do with your hands) <3

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): the one thing challengers fandom can agree on... art cums a lot and is loud. he always wants to jerk off but the cleaning after is a total buzz kill! whether he's humping his pillow or fucking his hand, the amount of cum he has to clean up is frankly.. embarrassing. he's also extremely loud.. he's just very sensitive and can't help but whine and moan and pretty much cry when he cums <3

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): when he was younger, arts dirty secret was definitely jerking off, growing up in a strict household made it seem like masturbation was taboo.. but now that he's older, he definitely keeps his kinks close to his chest, so id say his secret is that he enjoys being dominated, yet again he feels pressure to be the dominant one in a relationship but there's nothing he enjoys more than being dominated and taken care of by his partner <3

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): i think that by the time he's in college, art has had his fair share of girlfriends but has rarely had sex with them, he just feels like sex is the ultimate connection with someone.. and it makes him nervous to do it with someone he even has a bit of doubt about. art is actually naturally gifted at sex for some reason, the first time you're together, you get ready to give him a little tutorial on eating you out, but he immediately gets to work, doing exactly what he should do <3

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): any position in which he can see your face is arts favorite, he's a classic guy and he loves missionary, and he loves when you ride him too (you may be able to convince him to let you do a freaky little amazon position too) <3

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): art is totally serious, he just gets very nervous that he's gonna mess something up or embarrass himself or hurt you, that he couldn't make a joke even if he tried! <3

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): college art definitely shaves everytime he showers, he just hates the feeling of body hair on him, and he loves the way his body looks soft and shiny when he is shaved. older dilf! art definitely gets waxed, he makes regular appointments because it's easier than shaving for him, and it still makes him feel pretty <3

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): art is romantic to a fault, he absolutely puts you first in every aspect of your relationship, especially when being intimate so he tries to set the mood as best he can, being sweet and romantic (more than usual) almost like the first time you had sex, every time <3

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): art jerks off a lot. he just has a high sex drive, and it relaxes him, there's nothing more he wants to do after a long day than hump his pillow and fall asleep <3

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): i think that art only explores his kinks when he feels really comfortable in a relationship and they kind of come out one by one.. first he says he like to be dominated.. then he amps it up to say maybe he wants you to rim him.. then it's pegging and before you know it he's calling you "mommy" <3

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): in bed. seriously the only place he'll do it. once, he got a little too tipsy and you guys did it on the couch but never again. he sees sex as a private thing, and that's what a bedroom is for! <3

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): literally just looking at you.. i mean you could just be sitting doing your homework at your desk and he'd only be thinking about you sitting on his cock <3

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): many things i can think of.. but mainly he isn't into anything "gross" aka bodily fluids, or pain, the occasional love bite or hicky is okay with him, but i think he just can't really wrap his head around why you would want to hurt him during sex in the first place, after all he'd never hurt you <3

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): art could 100% go both ways, eating you out pretty much gets him off too (you can't count the number of times he's came in his pants just eating you out), but the feeling of your hot mouth on him is as close to heaven as he thinks he'll ever get <3

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): at the start, art goes slow and deep, really angling his hips to find that soft and squishy part in you that makes you scream. once he gets closer to his orgasm.. it's like he's in his own world, he doesn't even really pull out to thrust anymore, mostly just humping into you faster and faster until he does one last push of his hips to get his balls as snug as they can be against you when he cums <3

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): art doesn't like quickies, he prefers to do all the romantic parts of sex, like kissing, making out, foreplay etc. you can't really do that in a quickie, it leaves him feeling unsatisfied <3

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): in any part of his life, art likes for others to take the lead and make decisions, so you'd have to be the one to bring something up, and you'd really have to encourage him to be honest, because it's in his nature to say yes to everything in order to please you, even if he maybe doesn't want to do something <3

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): art is completely drained after one round, he just gets so overstimulated and sensitive after that it would just be painful to go again, he'll totally eat you out after sex though, if you're still not satisfied <3

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): i firmly believe that patrick got art a fleshlight for his birthday one year and.. art didn't leave his room for a week. but once he has you, he doesn't really see the need for toys for himself, and it would take a little bit for him to see your toys as partners instead of competitors <3

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): art is not a teaser at all, i mean he will get on his knees for you at any time, especially during sex, so he's never be able to tease you about something since he's just as eager as you are <3

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): like i said before, art is loud. he moans, whines, pants, every noise under the sun. "mmmf.. more.. more" "fuck 'm gonna melt you're so warm" "'s feels so good" "k-keep squeezing me like that.." "fuck 'm close.. please- please keep going" "i wanna cum.. i needa cum for you.." <3

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): as a birthday present, patrick got art a pack on flavoured condoms but art had no one to use them with so art just fast tested them by himself 😭 <3

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): i think that art is average thickness, maybe a little on the long side, like 6.5 inches, nothing too uncomfortable. a cute pink tip that drools pre and gets almost purple when he's about to cum.. and pretty round balls that slap deliciously against you and feel great to suck on <3

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): art is horny 99.999% percent of the time, he just can't help himself. but for art, horny doesn't necessarily mean he wants to have sex with you, it just means that he wants to be close to you, i mean he gets a boner every time you're around, so it's just his way of saying i love you <3

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): art gets extremely tired after sex, if he could just stay inside you after sex and go right to sleep he absolutely would. but he's responsible.. so he cleans up, forces you to go pee and then presses his face into your chest and is out like a light in approximately 5 minutes <3

#this is just me rambling sorry #parkerluvsu #parker.talks #art donaldson #challengers x reader #challengers 2024 #challengers #art donaldson x reader #challengers smut #art donaldson smut

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haeryna · 8 months ago

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i would recognize you in a million lifetimes ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru

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summary: they say that a child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth. you would've been more inclined to believe it, if you weren't the only person who got burned. but now, suguru and satoru are offering you the salve and you're not sure whether it's enough to fix the scars that they left behind.

tw: sfw! angst with a happy ending, satoru is a cocky shit, suguru spends half the time on his knees in this (BUT NONSEXUALLY), more abandonment mentions because it's crucial to the plot, mentions of homophobia. lots of misunderstandings.

notes: divider by @/saradika-graphics. sorry, this chapter is a little shorter lol but surprise!! love how i said i was gonna take a break and then one day i suddenly realized kind of what i wanted to ensuing conversation to be. ending is a little open-ended; as of right now, i have no further plot points, but obviously that could change in the future (feel free to let me know where you want it to go/what you want me to write more about set in this universe!). thank you to everyone who loved and supported me when i first started this series; it was my first time really writing anything for a fandom, or publicly sharing it for that matter <33

There always seems to be an innate misunderstanding that occurs when people encounter Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru, in that Satoru is the one who calls the shots and Suguru merely follows. Though Satoru might have seemed like the arrogant one, and Suguru the mild-mannered, you are intimately aware that the depth of Suguru’s pride almost matches his patience. It’s why he always tends to win whatever petty squabble that starts, why he always obtains the results he hopes for. Suguru always wins, you’d complained once, and his cat-like eyes had crinkled in amusement as he watched you. Not always, had been his response, but you knew it to be a lie. You had watched as he left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, his past lovers drawn in by his honey-sweet words and careful, calloused hands. You were no exception. If Satoru is a work of art, then Suguru is the painter, and you the lonely observer watching from behind the museum glass. You wonder if the same pride prevented him from finding you years ago.

It makes it seem all the more laughable as you watch Suguru kneeling before you through the water that clings to your lashes. The man that had never given in on his knees for someone who gave it all. You are suddenly horribly aware of the air that passes through your lungs in shuddering gasps. Your skin suddenly feels too tight for your body as your heart pounds to the tune of the faint ticking of the clock. “Please,” Suguru whispers at last, as his thumb runs along the back of your hand. Satoru’s arms tighten around you as if committing you to his memory, before letting go. You can say nothing as you stare down at your fingers traitorously intertwined with Suguru’s.

“What if I don’t want to listen?”

Satoru inhales sharply, and Suguru pauses, before reluctantly releasing your hand.

“Do you mean it?”

“I wasn’t aware that you two cared about how I felt about your decisions,” you retort, watching how Suguru’s expression falls. It doesn’t feel quite as satisfying as you thought it would. You push the thought down.

“Baby��” Satoru starts, and the facade you’ve built up begins to crumble.

“Don’t call me that!” you snarl, pushing yourself from the floor. His eyes are pleading, but you steel yourself as you continue. “I’m not your lover. I’m not anyone special to you, considering how quick you were to replace me.” Your voice breaks. “Mocking me like this is low, even for you.”

Satoru stiffens. “You were special to me. You still are.” Your hands curl into fists as he continues, voice twisting into something more arrogant. “Though, I’m sure Kenji couldn’t live up to me.”

“Don’t.” Your tone is raw as you frantically try to reel in the anguish you’d been storing for the past five years. “Don’t you dare try to use my letters against me.”

Satoru has the decency to at least look ashamed. The look on his face is an echo of when he would frown all day if you didn’t give him what he wanted. Satoru is selfish, you know, all heat and arrogance and childishness. You know it’s partially your fault; you were the one that spoiled him off of your love in the first place.

Suguru calls your name softly, and you turn to face him. He’s still on his knees, gazing up at you with the devotion of a worshiper and the guilt of a sinner. “Tell me what I can do to make it right,” he murmurs. “Tell me what I can do and I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

“Why didn’t you take me with you?” Your words are fragile, even to your own ears. Please tell me it was because you didn’t have enough money. Please say that it’s because you were in a rush.

“That night was chaos,” Suguru admits. “Satoru was downright unconsolable, so it was up to me to purchase the tickets, to pack everything we wanted to take into two bags, to book the hotels and make appointments to find apartments.” He hesitates for a moment, and you can feel the piercing ice forming in your veins at the expression.

“But you had enough money to afford a third.”

“Yes and no. Realistically, we maybe could have, but, to subject you to the conditions we would have been in?”

Angrily, you swipe the tears away from your face. “You still should have asked.”

Suguru’s eyes are impossibly tender. “I know you, my beautiful, stubborn girl. I knew that if I gave you that plane ticket, you would have followed us no matter what you truly wanted. I was willing to make the sacrifice. How could I have asked you to do the same?”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!”

“Call me selfish, then. Call me controlling, or foolish, or stubborn, but I will never regret ensuring your safety. I will never regret the fact that you were not subjected to the struggles we faced there, the things we had to do to survive. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” You feel nauseous, stomach twisting violently into knots. The lies taste so sweet, but the truth is something that you accepted long ago. “Subjecting me to what? Your lifestyle? What struggles do you face when you have so much money that you don’t know what to do with it?”

Satoru begins to protest, but you hold out your hand, silencing him as you watch Suguru. The betrayal of him cut deeper than you’d care to admit. Satoru might be cocky, but it is Suguru’s hand that holds the trigger, his hand that sealed your fate. “I know you,” you tell him. “I know you, and I know when you lie. Lie to me one more time and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that I never see you again.”

“There is no lie-”

“You don’t do that to the people you love!”

“I did it out of love, why can’t you see that?”

“No, shut up!” Your hands are shaking, teeth gritted as you try to stop the rush of angry tears that threaten to escape you. “You don’t get to act like I’m the person in the wrong here. You two, of all people, don’t get to treat me like this.” The sun is setting, harsh shadows casted onto Suguru’s hunched shoulders as if it is a load that is physically too much for him to bear. The words spilling from your mouth are sharp, desperate to make them bleed in the same way they’d hurt you. “You can’t tell me you love me, or that you missed me, when you left me here for five years. I was alone for five years, and for the first three, I thought something had happened to you two. Do you know how scared I was?”

Satoru reaches for you, but you shove his hands away. “I had to find out from a fucking television broadcast. I had to find out about Satoru’s debut through a television broadcast, and I had to hear your voice coming from the radio instead of through the phone. For three years, you let me fear the worst, and now you’re acting as if I’m crazy? You’re upset to find me bitter when you’ve treated me like a toy you can return to, and throw away when you’re bored? You made me this way!”

Suguru closes his eyes. “I will never stop regretting how I’ve hurt you, my love. I knew how badly you wanted to get out of this town, to go to college and make your mark on the world. We didn’t know that…”

We didn’t know that you’d still be here.

“Maybe if you’d bothered to find me, you would’ve known.”

“Please don’t blame Suguru for it.” Satoru’s voice is tired, as he runs his hands down his face. “Suguru might have been the one who handled our move, but I was the coward in the end.”

Impressively, your heart manages to shatter into even smaller pieces. You can only gaze blankly at him as he continues. “I’m sure you’ve suspected it by now, but when we left, Suguru and I were dating. We still are. You know how it is where we’re from, where we are.” He curls in on himself imperceptibly, a star ready to implode. “I knew my parents were bad, but I didn’t know they were that bad. The thought of you looking at me, at Suguru, the same way they looked at us– I couldn’t.”

You can’t help the almost hysterical laughter that tears through you. “Are you serious? That was your reason?”

Satoru stares at you as you cover your face with a hand. You’re afraid that if you don’t keep going, you’ll start screaming instead. “Of course I knew,” you choke out, half-laughing and half-sobbing. “Suguru’s neck would be all marked up every time you two hung out without me, and Satoru suddenly stopped flirting with every girl that wanted to sleep with him. Just because everyone else was stupid and in denial, doesn’t mean that I was.”

“You never said anything.” Suguru gazes up at you, eyes horrified.

“I figured if you wanted me to know, you would just tell me.”

“You always looked so uncomfortable.”

“Because I was jealous!” Your words hang in the air, and in this moment, for better or for worse, you know that there is no going back. “I thought I was losing my mind. I was jealous of both of you for having the other, and I hated myself for it. What kind of sick friend was I, to be selfish enough to not only desire one of you, but both of you at the same time?” You shake your head, wishing that it could be enough to remove the feelings from your heart that you had been clinging onto for so long. “When you left, I missed you. I thought it would go away. I hoped it would go away. Who else would be stupid enough to love the people who abandoned them?”

The words pour from your mouth, acidic with your pain and despair. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you two? Why was it so easy for you to move on, while I was stuck here wasting away? Was it really that hard for me to be loved by you? I was there too!”

“Darling,” Suguru says, stumbling over the syllables of his words. “You loved us?”

You have to fight the visceral urge to slap him across his painfully beautiful face. “That’s what you took away from this?”

“I dreamed of this for so long,” Satoru tells you roughly, delicate fingers tilting up your chin. An interviewer had once said that Satoru’s eyes seemed so cold and distant. You feel like he was trying to burn you alive as he examines you. “I can’t believe this is real.”

“Are both of you out of your mind?” you snap, rearing back. Satoru’s resulting chuckle floods your face with heat as he gives you a lazy, predatory smile. “Only for you, sweetheart.”

“What Satoru is trying to say,” Suguru interjects, dazed, “is that we didn’t think you felt the same way.” Same way? You feel lightheaded, as if you’re not quite there. Same way?

He continues on as Satoru leans against the wall, content to watch your reactions. “I, we, just assumed that you…I don’t know. We…”

“How could I not?” you ask, voice breaking. “How could I not love both of you?”

Before you can even react, Satoru is surging towards you, arms pressing you closer into his body as he holds you tightly. “You mean it?” he asks, voice uncharacteristically desperate. Needy for you, as he greedily savors the feeling of you in his arms. You can only nod, one hand twisting into the back of his sweater as you bury yourself into the slight hollow where his collarbone meets his shoulder.

“Please,” Suguru breathes, taking your hand into his, rough fingers curling around the back of your hand as he strokes your palm with his thumb. “I know things aren’t going to be the same. We’re okay with that, we just…” He swallows, thickly, before pushing forward. “We just want to make things right, take things slow, and maybe then you can learn to love us again.”

Gently, you pull yourself away from Satoru’s grasp. “It’ll be hard,” you admit, tugging Suguru up off the floor and towards you. “But, we’ll make it through.” A slight smile tugs on your lips, the sincerity bleeding through into the softness of your eyes. “Besides, I don’t need to learn how to love you two again.”

“Especially because I never stopped.”

Later, you’ll realize the depth of the Gojo’s betrayal to their son. Later, there will be just as many kisses as there are tears, plans to be made, and boxes to be packed. But for now, all you can feel is the overwhelming warmth in your heart as you finally allow yourself to be hugged by two of the people you adored most in the world.

Welcome home. I love you.

#haerinwrites #idol!satoru gojo #rockstar!suguru geto #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x geto x reader #suguru x reader x satoru #satosugu x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst

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physalian · 9 months ago

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In Defense of Fanfiction (Or the perfect starting point for your original novel)

Fanfic gets a bad rap pretty much everywhere except Tumblr. It’s misunderstood and misrepresented by its average works, seen as juvenile and cringey, or a banal point of contention between a famous person or piece of media and its fans.

Outside of fanfic that writes about real people, especially smut fics of real people, I support the art wholeheartedly. Fictional characters are one thing, but personally, caricaturing a celebrity’s life for public consumption and writing or drawing them in compromising content without their consent is a little weird. You do you. Don’t like, don’t read, as they say.

Fanfic is the perfect starting point for a few reasons:

It places you in a creative box and forces you to work within those constraints

It does all the worldbuilding and character concepts for you

It lets you write way outside your comfort zone

When published and receiving feedback, it boosts your self-confidence

It's incredibly flexible

It’s practice. All practice is good practice

—

Behold your creative box

When I was little I had no idea the majority of fanfic was shipping fics. I always pictured and looked for canon-divergent alternate universes. Like, what if X happened in this episode instead of Y? What if this character never died?

Fanfic demands you work within someone else’s canon, whether it’s an OC in the canonical world, or the canonical characters in an AU. These are like little bowling bumpers saving you from the gutter, but also keeping you on a straight-ish path toward the pins.

The indecisiveness of too many choices can be too intimidating when you’re first starting out. You want to be a writer but you have no idea where to begin, what genre to pick, what characters you want to chronicle, what themes you want to explore.

Even if it sits on your computer never to see the light of day, you still got those creative juices flowing.

Pre-packaged worldbuilding

Sometimes all we want is to get to the good stuff. Maybe I want to write a story about elemental magicians but Last Airbender already exists and I just want to play in a pre-existing sandbox. So I write some OCs into that world and have a free-for-all.

I don’t have to come up with my own lore, world history, magic system rules and mechanics, politics, geography—any of it. I get to just focus on the characters.

Even if you’re writing an AU, like say a coffee shop AU, you don’t have to think about brand new characters, you can just think “What would M do?” and go from there. The trade-off is your readers will expect canonical characters to behave in-character, but I think it’s worth it.

Stretch beyond your comfort zone!

Do you hate writing action scenes? Go practice with a shonen anime fic. Need work on dialogue? Write some high-fantasy fic, or a courtroom drama. Practice a fistfight by watching fistfights and writing what you see, and do it over and over again until what you read makes you feel like you're watching what’s on screen.

But beyond that—practice genres that you aren’t super familiar with. If you’re new to fantasy, write fantasy fic. Or a mystery novel/show, thriller, comedy, satire, adventure, what have you. The nature of fanfic still gives you those “guardrails” and you can get some brutally honest feedback on how you’re doing.

And, of course, the realm of M-rated romance and smut fics. I haven’t because I think I would die of embarrassment if I tried and I never intend to include sex scenes in my works anyway, but if you do want to, use the internet as your test audience. Post it on a throwaway account if you’re nervous.

Build that self-confidence!

The fandoms I used to write for are super dead, so it’s insane how I still get email notifications that so-and-so liked my fic to this day. Comments are as elusive as ever, but random strangers on the internet telling me they liked my work is a magical reassurance that my writing isn’t actually awful.

Random strangers on the internet are, as we all know, beholden to no moral obligation to be kind to your little avatar face, or be kind to be polite. So a rando taking the time to like my work or even leave a positive comment can feel more honest than one of my friends telling me what they think I want to hear.

I tend to avoid the more present aspects of fandom like online communities, forums, social media, what have you, so I get a delayed and diluted aspect of any given fandom through completed works. Which means, in general, I get to avoid the worst and most toxic aspects of fandom and get to sift through positive feedback and critique.

Even if your fanfic isn’t written with stellar prose, it’s fanfic. We don’t expect Pulitzer-prize winning content. And if your work isn’t up to snuff, people are more likely to just ignore it than put you on blast (at least in my experience, I never got a bad comment or a “flame” in the old FFN days).

Fanfic doesn’t care about the rules of published literature

On the one hand, try not to practice bad habits, but with this point I mean that your layout, punctuation, formatting, paragraph styles, chapter length–all of it is beholden to no rules. I get as annoyed as the next reader with giant blocks of paragraphs, or the double-spacing between pages of single-sentence paragraphs, but if the story’s good enough I might ignore it.

There’s more than just straight narrative fics, though. People write “chat” fics, or long streams of text and group chat conversations. The scene breaks can come super rapidly–I’ve seen fics with a single sentence in between line breaks to show the passage of time. And without the polish of a traditionally published novel, I’ve never seen a purer distillation of author voice in any medium more than fanfic.

All practice is good practice

Even if it’s crack fiction, or a one-off one-shot, or something meant to be lighthearted and straightforward and free from complex worldbuilding and intricate plots. It really helps break writer’s block when you can shift gears and headspaces entirely and you can get relatively instant feedback to keep you motivated.

Beyond that, the “guardrails” help you stay consistent as far as character growth and personality if you struggle with designing rich characters.

The most recent fanfic I wrote was just a couple years ago, for a dead fandom I didn’t think would get any traffic whatsoever. It wasn’t my original works, but the feedback on that fic gave me the kick in the butt I needed to get back into writing more seriously.

—

In short, I support fanfic. I may not be proud of my earliest fics' prose now, but I am proud that they walked so I can now run.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #fanfic #fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 #ffn

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bluegiragi · 2 years ago

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hello! i'm gira, i go by she/her, and i've been making fanart for the cod fandom for about four months now :) the majority of that time's been spent on the soapbox saga, which is sort of just what i call the very plot-ridden porn comic featuring ghost, soap and konig. and recently i've been working on the monster 141 au!

i'm here to address the reasoning behind how i assigned certain monsters to certain characters, particularly the POC characters as well as accusations of racism regarding me neglecting gaz in all my art :) whoever you are, if you're reading this in good faith, i thank you! i earnestly never intended to make anyone feel uncomfortable from my work.

The Monster AU

i won't post the blog who brought this issue up mainly because, (realistically speaking) i think people might go after them and spam them with hate so I'm paraphrasing here. but basically..."how come all the POC in the Monster AU are assigned animal-associated monsters? Comparisons to animals can be incredibly demeaning when it comes to minorities".

I completely agree! But earnestly, I think my desire to assign every character a 'monster' that was relevant to their culture overshadowed the part of my brain that would've raised red flags about this sort of thing. There's the argument here that I could've assigned these characters cooler monsters such as Price who is a dragon, and Ghost who is a wraith, but I wanted to be respectful of all the minorities in the COD cast by giving them creatures that reflected their culture and personality.

ALEJANDRO - NAGUAL

In the Monster AU, Alejandro is a nagual, which is considered a guardian spirit in Mesoamerican culture. Typically, it's said that the nagual is the shapeshifted form that powerful men can transform into in order to do evil (although that doesn't apply in this case, Ale's a heroic lad), and can come in the forms of a jaguar, deer, dog or bird. I chose a jaguar, since it seemed to be the most common form of nagual depiction in the resources I was looking at. The 'panther mode' isn't pre-established as part of nagual mythology, but since most panthers are just black jaguars, i thought the association wouldn't be unreasonable.

I chose Alejandro to be a nagual because it's so in character for him to be protective of his home. The idea of him being a literal guardian spirit for all he considers his just made sense to me :)

RODOLFO (RUDY) - CADEJOS

In this AU, Rudy is the vessel for two cadejos, which are legendary dog spirits popular in the mythology of Central America, parts of South America and Mexico. Historically, they've been known as psychopomps (guides to help humans into the afterlife following their death) but modern interpretation has shifted to depict them as the good guardian dog and the evil attacking dog respectively.

A lot of the minute information about the cadejos tends to differ depending on the source. Like whether they're actually two separate dogs, or they're the same dog just in different 'modes', or how big they are. My personal depiction of them has them sized as normal dogs (although their spirit nature means they can move into small spaces pretty easily by just becoming immaterial temporarily) and as separate spirits that have been passed down through Rudy's family generationally.

I chose the cadejo for Rudy because although I wanted to include him in the Monster AU, i still liked keeping him as a character who was a bit more 'human' than Alejandro. I think Ale needs Rudy to hold him back sometimes, and having the two cadejo definitely helps with that. Sort of like how cheetahs in zoos have therapy dogs growing up because they're so anxious all the time! I think it also does a good job of showing Rudy's two sides as well, like he's a softie who just wants to protect those he loves, but he's capable of a lot of violence too.

VALERIA - GORGON

Valeria is a gorgon which, admittedly, is not part of Mexican mythology. However, I was put in a bit of a bind here, since my research didn't really reveal to me a monster in Mexican culture that I thought would suit Valeria's vibe (manipulative, elulsive) and I just felt like a gorgon would be perfect for her. Medusa's myth has her being continuously demeaned by the men in her life and is a symbol of female empowerment, which I thought was a great reflection of the implied reason that Valeria left the army was due to internal sexism. There's also the perfect parallel of how anyone who sees El Sin Nombre's face dies, and Medusa's whole 'turn you to stone' thing.

I thought i could compromise by making Valeria a gorgon but her hair would be Mexican black kingsnakes but...turns out they're actually not that dangerous. Some people even keep them as pets! So I decided to keep the visual, but make her a pit viper, a subfamily of vipers found in the Americas as well as Eurasia.

HORANGI - HAETAE

Horangi is a haetae (해태) which is a beast in Korean mythology that typically comes in the form of a horned lion or dog. It's prevalent in a lot of cultures in East Asia actually, although it goes under different names depending on the region - kaichi for Japan, xiezhi for China. I made Horangi a tiger variant on the creature because...well...'horangi' means 'tiger' in korean. It just made sense to me to put that little twist on it.

Typically, haetae are seen as spirits of judgement, that decide on innocent and guilty parties in disputes and punish the latter. It's also considered a guardian against fire (hence the fire immunity and cloud manipulation powers I gave him).

GAZ - HARPY

Gaz is a harpy which, I won't lie, was purely inspired by the fact that he seems to keep falling out of helicopters. But it's also because...yeah, I did neglect Gaz in the soapbox saga. But I think I neglected...everyone in the soapbox saga who weren't directly involved in the main ship. I sort of just tunnel visioned on the main three, so my exclusion of characters isn't just limited to Gaz, it was included Price, Laswell, Alejandro, Rudy, Graves etc.

I just want to make clear that my treatment of Gaz in particular isn't reflective of any inner preference against him. And to make good on that, me assigning Gaz wings of all things was to help me spend more time on him in the Monster AU! I think the contrast between Gaz being an upstart harpy, and Price being a one-winged dragon has a lot of potential as a mentor/protege relationship (and perhaps even something more) and it's why I assigned this monster to him. I really wanted to establish a connection upfront, but just making Gaz another dragon felt cheap - the harpy thing felt a little more in turn with his character :)

I really hope this cleared up any remaining frustrations with my designs for the Monster AU. I hope you can see that I never meant anything demeaning by assigning these monsters to their respective characters - in fact, I earnestly tried to go out of my way and be respectful to their backgrounds.

In any case, if you have any more questions I'd be happy to answer them - I'd just ask you to please ask politely :)

#gira speaks #monster 141 au

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ellecdc · 9 months ago

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Hellooo, so I see you opened your requests 🥸 I am a new member of the The Marauders fandom and you have been my go to and all time favorite writer. First want to thank you for all the effort you must put in for us goblins. I am also very new to even really interacting on tumblr outside of the anonymous option. So hellooo! Any way onto the request if you ever feel like it, I get horrible migraines and to deal I tend to look really goofy with a compression cap and ice face mask on and during my recent episode I couldn’t help but think about how any of your lovey boys would react to their partner looking crazy with all that gear on 🙃. This is weirdly specific so ignore if it doesn’t sing for you. But thanks again for the art you share!❣️🌿

hi sweets! first of all: WELCOME TO THE MARAUDERS FANDOM!?!? please help yourself to any seat and don't hesitate to ask any questions you may have (there's a lot of complicated shipnames, canon vs. fanon theories to learn). second of all: OMG are you kidding me!? well thank you, that's quite an honour, but feel free to check out these authors I mentioned previously. thirdly: I love you little goblins 😭😭😭😭

also, since you didn't specify which marauders boy - I opted to give you all of the ones (that I write for) as headcanons 🫶

How various Marauders era boys would react to your migraine get-up

James Potter:

he'd open the door to the bedroom to find you laying there, prone in your pain

immediately "oh angel!!!!" causing you to wince in pain and shush him

he'd acquiesce but he'd whimper quietly as if your pain was causing him pain

he'd start flitting around the room: pulling the blackout curtains shut tightly, placing a glass of water and some pain meds beside you

you'd finally have to banish him from the room, though, on account of his various noises (poor dude couldn't manage silence if his life depended on it)

when you started to feel better, however, you'd take the sleep mask off but not the cap and head out to the living space to find James had closed every curtain in the whole flat, he had turned on a humidifier just on the off chance it helps relax you, and started a pot of tea for you

"I've got the hot pack here if you'd like me to warm it up for you?" he'd offer quietly, still looking particularly pained at your sorry state

"Can I just have a hug?" you'd ask pathetically and he'd coo (quietly) and embrace you gently as if you were about to break

"I'm sorry your partner looks so silly when you come home to them." you laughed, thinking about the ice/compression cap you were still wearing

"you've never looked more beautiful"

Sirius Black:

I believe he'd get very nervous to see someone in pain whether it be physically or mentally - but particularly a pain that was mental or internal (like a migraine vs a cut etc) because he wouldn't know how to fix it and he'd feel useless

He would whisper a cautious "hey baby" as he entered and move so slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible "what happened?"

he knows nothing happened, just that you're hurting: but again, he doesn't know how to fix this and he hates it

"What do you need?" he'd ask as he'd lie down cautiously beside you, itching to reach out but not knowing if it would be okay.

"Nothing." you'd mutter, and immediately feel bad for being short with him. "nothing, I'm sorry. just some time." you'd correct, reaching your hand tentatively across the space to touch his hand, which he'd quickly albeit gently take in his own

"okay." he'd say simply

you waited for the bed to move to signal his departure, but he never left.

he just laid there with your hand in his, watching you quietly

you wouldn't notice this in your state, but he was taking dramatic breaths for your benefit: deep breaths in, holding, and deep breaths out, silently encouraging you to align your breathing with his, which you did subconsciously

you'd wake up later in much the same way - him still on his side watching you (or perhaps he fell asleep too) and your hand still in his

he'd apologize to you as if your pain was somehow his fault, but it was because he felt helpless when you needed him

you'd thank him for his help and he'd relax immediately

Remus Lupin:

Remus is no friggen stranger to chronic pain and flare ups

he wouldn't even say anything, he'd just adjust his footing so he made as little noise as possible

he'd gently press a kiss to your shoulder, to make sure you knew he was here (though he knew with your head the way it was, you would have likely heard his keys all the way down the hall of the apartment building

he'd make himself busy in the flat - soup ready for when you woke up, tea ready to be brewed should you want some, lights off, curtains closed

he'd come by in a bit and quietly tell you to sit up, helping you replace your no longer cold ice mask and cap with new ones

you'd pathetically ask him if he would stay and he'd breathe out in relief because really - that's what he's wanted from the beginning

Regulus Black:

"what's this? what happened?" he'd ask urgently, thinking you'd been hurt or something

"sh! I have a migraine" you'd moan back.

he'd make a pitying tsk sound and make for you

totally babying behaviour "what do you need? do you want food? do you want more blankets? less blankets? a new watch? I'm going to order you a new watch"

you'd banish him from the room for the coddling and when you return to the living area later - he will be surrounded by bags because he had gone shopping and returned with the most ridiculous things: clothes, food, jewellery, blankets, pillows

"I didn't know what you might need." He'd say, slightly shy

"I needed a nap, Regulus." you'd laugh.

"well...you deserve all of this anyway."

and then he'd spend the rest of the evening doing low-impact stuff for your head. reading you a book quietly, gentle conversation, maybe run you a bath

bonus! Barty Crouch Jr:

"who did this?" he'd bark as he saw you in the fetal position with your gear on

"christ, Barty. please be quiet"

"what happened?" he'd demand, quieter but no less intense.

"I just have a migraine."

a switch would flip. he'd ready the room for you (curtains, quiet, water, pills, he'd set up a fan pointed at you.)

then he'd sit outside of the door to your flat and violently threaten anyone walking in the hallway if they make so much as a whisper of noise in this flats direction.

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antimony-medusa · 2 years ago

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Okay so, the thing about Boundaries, and why people keep bringing them up over and over again to creators, is I think there's a bit of a desire for what people are doing here to not be weird. Cause like, the creator signed off on it, so like, I'm fine and you can't make fun of me or get mad at me.

And like, I understand the desire to not be made fun of or have people get mad at you, believe me, I know, but I think we have all just gotta accept that what we're doing is— it's a little weird, bro.

Like by definition what fandom is is getting a little too much into your thing. Fan comes from Fanatic. We all saw some block men and we went way too hard with it. And I think that sufficiently viewed from the outside, there is just no way to do any kind of transformational creation and it not be weird to the wrong people.

Like, taking a character and making them miserable? One of the honourable fandom traditions, whether you're whumping them or if you go hard into comfort at the end. For someone entirely outside of fandom, that's just like why are you DOING that, bro, and when you add in the fact that we're using people's real names (well, gamer tags), there's no way for that not to be odd. "The creator said it was okay" is not going to make people go ??? any less. (Let me emphasize that this is fine, it's just like, also, you bring that up on the bus and peope go ????)

Let's look at fluff. You want to write about your characters in a coffee shop au? You want to write about your characters in a cuddly family dynamic, taking care of each other? You want to age down characters and write kid fic where they learn to face the challenges of the world and it's just so cute and you love them so much even if nothing really bad happens? I promise you that my non-fandom parents are gonna be like "why are you spending your time on that" and again, if you throw in the "is this real people" (it isn't, but that is a delicate thing to explain), you're looking at people staring at you in discomprehension and backing away.

Shippy stuff. Again, one of the honourable fandom traditions. You just love your guys and you want to write about how much they love each other (or maybe make it tragic about how only one person can make it out of the cactus ring). You spent all this time thinking about their feelings writing it out. You write out a kiss scene. It makes you flail happily. Most people don't do that! Absolutely fun to do? Yes! Something you can bring up as an ice breaker at the company potluck? Probably not! We are too much into the characters, and that's fine, but it's still gonna look a bit odd from the outside!

Plotty gen. You're writing an entire new story, but you're taking existing characters for it? Like it's original fiction, but you're using existing characters? Why not just write original fiction <I have had this conversation. Oh, you're writing a story about minecraft characters, and they— they get tortured? Like it starts with them being tortured? <also a fun conversation to be in.

I'm mostly thinking about this from the fanfiction side, but art, meta— we are just getting into things way too much. We're spending hours on this stuff. We drew the creators minecraft sonas in maid dresses. There are millions of words of fiction on the archive about every conceivable universe of good/bad things happeing to the characters. It is a primary hobby, where I could be learning piano or paying attention to sports. And I'm not, and like, that's fine.

I am here to tell you that people absolutely might find what we're doing weird, and also it's entirely fine. I just ran a poll about the sexiest minecraft character that got 68k votes on the most voted poll. And then I had to explain that to my doctor to explain why I didn't really have a normal baseline for the past week to compare to. (Doctor visibly thought it was weird but he was also like "you go" because he's a good doctor, but I had to start with explaining minecraft because he knew NOTHING about what I was talking about.) You just gotta accept that fandom is for a small segment of the population, we are all having fun with ourselves, and it's for us, it's not for the general population, and stop trying to make it palatable to people who don't care to understand. People on this site keep saying "racist white boys" and then they don't have the intellectual curiosity to pursue further as to why maybe that's not true, having a boundaries post is not going to make them nicer. It's fine. They're being jerks, we're just having fun.

And like, stop trying to get the creator to sign off on it. Accept that sometimes we're being weird and they can look at it if they want to see the weird fanatics going too hard with the characters. They will tell us if we're doing something they want to stop associating with their name, and up until that point, just accept that what we're doing is weird, and have fun with it.

We're weird.

Be more weird 2k23.

Have fun with it.

I wrote a time travel AU in DMs with a friend last night about a bird man and a minecraft piglin. Not normal. It's FINE.

#discourse #mcyt #medusas banger posts #fandom meta

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olderthannetfic · 6 months ago

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A common argument I see against constructive or negative opinions (even in For Readers spaces now apparently 🙄) is that they crush people's dreams of being a writer.

And like. I have diagnosed issues with rejection sensitivity, so sharing my work publicly was extremely difficult for me at first. But it was just something I had to get through if I wanted to be a writer. When I was in a university level creative writing class, I was stunned that they wasted a seminar teaching us stuff like you're/your and there/their/they're until I noticed that my classmates found it really useful. I realised 00s fandom taught me better grammar than the actual official school system, say nothing of charactisation, voice, pacing, etc. There were a LOT of resources to help new writers understand writing 101 and avoid annoying mistakes/cliché plots, which you don't really see anymore. I honestly feel like I got an expensive years long creative writing course for free.

And even as a melodramatic and oversensitive tween, I always had the attitude that I wanted my writing to be good, so if people pointed out typos or grammar mistakes I'd just thank them, fix it and remember for next time??? I never once felt "bullied" by legitimate criticism: as someone who actually was bullied a lot IRL, 00s fandom was actually one of the few spaces where I felt comfortable and safe. Whereas tbh I don't always feel comfortable with this modern culture where fanfic writers demand comments in return for creating "content" "for free" but setting strict demands for what kind of comments they want to receive. (And ofc it's for free! It's not their intellectual property!)

Which is all to say, if someone telling you "hey, maybe consider adding paragraph breaks" makes you want to quit writing forever then maybe you didn't actually want to be a writer all that much.

I think people mix a whole bunch of dissimilar things.

If you go to art/film/etc. school, you'll need to get used to group critique. It's partly about advice, but a lot of it is about toughening you up for future situations where your audience is not going to care about why a work isn't up to their standards. I think some of these practices actually can be pretty damaging. It really depends on the professor to make them constructive.

A key element is that people who are going through that are usually supposed to already have some experience and be pretty committed, so they aren't going to shrivel up and quit.

When I was a little baby writer, I was indeed pretty sensitive. Even while trying to finish the first draft of a novel, I need cheerleading or maybe goading to put my ass in a chair. The hard part is getting the words out, not making them good. So a lot of negative shit, even if well meant and useful, would just be discouraging.

But...

There's a big difference between having no interest in back seat driving from AO3 comments and opposing all review-ish conversation anywhere, whether it's bookmarks or discord servers or other archives that have more of a culture of reviews than of comments for the author.

I think you can want to improve but not want to do it via AO3 comments. You should still leave readers to do their thing outside of your comments though. Analyzing or reviewing can be a big part of someone's own fannish activity—a positive and fun hobby for them, not just an excuse to yell at the writer.

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polutrope · 5 days ago

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End of Year Recs

Inspired by @sallysavestheday's 8+8+8+8 Fic Recs, but with my own twist.

Below the cut, you will find 8 Fics by My Mainstays, 8 Fics by Authors New to Me, and 8 Works of Art.

As with any rec list, it's always hard to narrow it down -- but I also think rec lists are an important part of the fandom ecosystem and I've found many great fics I never would have clicked through them. Please look at my Bookmarks for more fics I loved, and please know you're all amazing for creating and sharing in this incredibly talented fandom 😚.

Many M- and E-rated fanworks below the cut because lbr, that's my jam.

8 Fics by My Mainstays

Some of my favourites by authors who have been consistently putting out writing I love well past the last year, many of whom I am fortunate to call friends.

Sing Thy Memories, Take My Hand by @melestasflight (E, 5.8k). Fingon/Maglor.

‘You have returned to Middle-earth for Maglor Fëanorion, you said?’ Elrond asks. ‘Yes, I am to beckon him come back to Valinor at last,’ Fingon answers hopefully. Few others had been willing to return to Middle-earth, and Fingon had already saved a Fëanorian cousin before. That made him more qualified for this task than most.

Melesta my dear, you put out some truly exceptional writing this year but holy damn did this blow me out of the water. You brought all of your powers to bear on this fic and it shows. Beautiful landscapes, complicated emotions, and sensuous smut.

i've been so worried (you've been so still) by @welcomingdisaster (E, 9.5k). Maglor/OFC.

A maiden of Estë does not explain. A maiden of Estë does not hold anger. A maiden of Estë does not tell what she has seen. A maiden of Estë does not follow kinslayers across the sea, nor does she sleep with the high regent of the Noldor.

Lena, you reached into my brain and pulled out the perfect fic for me. Ellind is a compelling OC, the Feanorian dynamics are so crunchy, the worldbuilding is fascinating and -- crucially -- Maglor is so sexy.

Filature by @sallysavestheday (G, 0.8k). Fingon.

After Thangorodrim, Fingon tries to come to terms with the urgency of Beleriand.

I am just screaming about the way sally uses her powers of economically florid (yes, it's a thing) language to delve into themes that are so core to Tolkien's writings through this character study of Fingon.

Strange Currencies by @jouissants (E, 67.2k, WiP). Maedhros/Maglor.

When Maedhros and Maglor fall together, they don't expect it to matter. Ages later, Maedhros is reembodied in Valinor to find himself married to a ghost. He and Maglor must face the repercussions of their history in Beleriand to move forward together, whether they want to or not.

How could I pick just one! I love everything you write, you know this. But it had to be this one. This fic just radiates love -- between the characters, and by the author for the characters. It's richly emotional, atmospheric, sometimes funny, and deeply engaged with canon in unexpected ways. Even if you don't care for the pairing or the tropes, please read it for the flashbacks. And don't say I didn't warn you if you're drawn in for the rest.

join my barren soil by @meadowlarkx (E, 11.1k). Maedhros/Maglor.

A familiar sound: the door Maglor had hung, parting in a rustle of leaves and cloth. Maedhros closed his eyes. “He wasn’t alone,” someone called out with grim satisfaction. “Brought a bedwarmer for the road.”

This gripped my heart with pain and then released it tenderly. Such an intricate and thoughtful fic. If the warnings make you wary but you're up to giving it a try, DO IT. Lark will never let you down with the tough themes.

An Incarnation by @i-am-a-lonely-visitor (M, 63.1k). Elrond & Family.

Haunted by a lifetime of grief even in the bliss of Aman, Elrond finds himself in a strange predicament — as the rest of his family learns how to survive the Fourth Age on two sides of the Sea.

Again, how do I pick but one fic by visitor? Of course, in the end, it had to be this final installment of his sprawling Elrondverse that I have been consuming like a fine dark chocolate these past few years. Another fic that just radiates affection for the characters and their world. Come for the delectable prose, spicy smut, and juicy conflict; stay for the eldritch identity fuckery and eggpreg.

To Evil End by @zealouswerewolfcollector (E, 2.9k). Fingon/Maedhros.

Decades after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, Fingon comes back to Maedhros.

Every time this author posts something with a complicated premise (which is almost always), I'm like /grabby hands/ gimme gimme gimme. This story gave me many chills. Hewer is a master of succinct and punchy dialogue. I can't believe it's less than 3k, for the impact it's had on my imagination.

it does not disturb your flesh by @crownlessliestheking (E, 50.7k). Celebrimbor/Earendil/Elwing.

There is a Fëanorian in the Havens of Sirion, and Elwing Dior’s daughter is allowing it.

I had no idea what to expect with this throuple and I was blown away by the characterisations, conflicts, and fascinating worldbuilding.

8 Fics by Authors New To Me

Some of my favourite fics by authors I read for the first time this year, and who made my fandom experience richer.

Succour by @misst1ff (E, 3.5k). Hunleth/Mablung.

Hunleth of the Haladin copes with loss and injury after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, and finds healing with Mablung of Doriath.

mouse's writing is crisp, clever, and funny and I'm so glad they're putting those powers to use on some less-explored characters. This fic is proof that straightforward PIV smut can be hot as hell. I love the use of cultural difference. Don't miss the follow-up threesome, either.

the darkness got a hold on me by @luthnethril (E, 7.3k). Daeron/Maglor, Maedhros/Maglor.

Daeron wants to throttle him. He wants to grab him by the collar of his lace robes and slam him against the wall—he wants to wipe that arrogant smirk off his face. "You can have a taste," Maedhros tells him, pushing him slightly forward towards Maglor's open legs. "Given that we are all here to promote relations with our respective peoples, I have decided to be generous."

I went into this skeptical of this triangulation but the author totally convinced me. I also really liked this Daeron and the way they did a Daeron-son-of-Elu that fit into Silm canon, for me.

make me come alive by @queerofthedagger (E, 6k) Maedhros/Maglor.

Maglor struggles to give up control. Maedhros makes sure that he learns.

I love this darker take on the uses of osanwe and on Maemag. It's also incredibly hot. I hope qotd sticks around the fandom for a bit, I'm loving the characterisations and voices they are bringing to some of my faves.

Threnody for the Dispossessed by kenaz. (T, 11.3k). Daeron/Maglor.

When the Valar recall Maglor to Valinor to plead for clemency, it falls to a reluctant rival to find him.

I couldn't believe I'd never read this Daemags before. It was so richly described and I love the characterisations of both, but especially Daeron's first-person POV.

spinning circles in your warm blood by @aredhels (M, 0.6k). Daeron/Luthien.

”Oh, brother,” she sighs as she kisses Daeron’s jaw, ”no one knows me like thee.”

It's the incestuous twist on "Daeron is Luthien's brother" that you never knew you needed. The codependence is so good, the prose beautiful.

rules of betrayal by @tobermoriansass (E, 42.5k). Curufin/Curufin's Wife ... and whole bunch of others.

Finrod attempts an experiment in the name of scientific, Noldorin curiosity about sex, the elf and spiritual enlightenment. It does not go as planned.

I can't belieeeeve clovis is a new author to me this year because they've been such a core part of my 2024 fic reading experience. I have never turned around and re-read a fic as quickly as I did rules of betrayal. A true testament to the way sex-in-art can open up avenues of character and psychology that nothing else can.

Spear-fishing for Ghosts by birrdieEdwards (T, 3.4k). Indis.

Then, her hide jerkin had been proof against tooth and claw and her stone spearpoint had been dipped in the blood of dark hunters and fell beasts. Now, her steel armament was shining and new and had never seen battle.

An entirely unexpected fill for a 2-year-old silmkinkmeme prompt of mine asking for Vanya POV on the War of Wrath. Everything about this fic is unique and I am in awe of this complex, intricate Indis characterisation. The rest of the fics in the series are just as good.

The Thorn is Exceedingly Sharp by @littlewhitemouseagain (E, 16.2k). Curufin/Eol.

After bellowing with laughter at the thought of such a contest, Telchar gathered the two elves up and proposed it to them at once: “A challenge of weapon-craft; the better-made weapon wins. Easy as that.” “What weapon?” asked Eol. “Swords?” asked Curufin, one ring-bedecked hand curled under his chin. Eol glanced at him, but Curufin kept his gaze on Telchar. “I can make no lesser of a blade than you.” “Ah,” Curufin mock-realized, rolling his eyes up at the cavern ceiling (an elven habit, as they often appealed to stars in their rhetoric), “I was being rude in suggesting a contest that would favor my skills. Perhaps, instead—” “And how does it favor you?” asked Eol, cold and biting.

I can't believe I've only been reading Littlewhitemouse for less than a year, either. Everything of theirs is so unique, so clever, so profound yet irreverent at once. I had trouble choosing just one of their fics, but ended up on this most recent Silmfic because it's a testament to how they manage to make a story about awful people so good and so compelling. And the sexual tension is hot as hell.

8 Works of Art

Some of the fanart that left an impression on me this year.

Maglor by @myceliumelium. I just love my guy looking wretched and beautiful with a spattering of blood.

Dior and Celegorm by @aamuusva. Dior the Fair, INDEED. I love his beauty and fierceness, I love Celegorm's unrepentant look.

Maglor by @exercise-of-trust. I don't know how to say it but he's just the ideal Maglor to me. And I love this artist's style.

Fingolfin by @ylieke. The DEFIANCE and GRIEF in this elf's eyes just pierces me right in the heart.

Amrod threatens Elrond and Elros by @runawaymun. An illustration for my fic! The artist went all-in on the horror of this moment and it's breathtaking.

Maedhros/Maglor by @tari-cua. I love everything tari-cua creates. The art is so lush and sensuous and their Maedhros and Maglor are so distinctly characterised. The fic @danmeiljie wrote inspired by this is a perfect accompaniment.

Reunion on the Beach by @arlenianchronicles. The beautiful, emotional art of Maglor and Elrond that I spent all summer staring at for TRSB.

Maglor's penance by @magicinavalon. Last but certainly not least, the strong, naked, tied-up Maglor we all deserve. Please also read the fic it illustrates by @queerofthedagger, you will NOT be disappointed.

#end of year recs #fic recs #maglor #daeron #maemags #daemags #ocsasionally some other characters lol

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monstrous-fusion · 8 months ago

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Legend of Zelda AU Gift Exchange Interest Check

Hullo everyone! We have a huge announcement we're like to make: We're hosting a Legend of Zelda AU Gift Exchange.

What is the Legend of Zelda AU Gift Exchange? It's a gift exchange meant to celebrate the vast amount of AUs within the Legend of Zelda fandom, hosted by the Monstrous Fusion AU discord server! All AUs are welcome; whether those are a general LoZ AU or a Links Meet! The only catch is that these AUs must be server appropriate, which means they do not contain explicit NSFW content.

This project is for people of every skill level, both in art and writing! Once you send in your registration, you're in!

Proposed Timeline;

Sign-Ups Open: May 11th Sign-Ups Close: May 23rd Gift Assignments Release: May 27-28th Gift Creation Begins: May 28th Dropout Deadline: June 7th First Check-Ins: June 7th Second Check-in: June 17th Third Check-in: June 27th Gift Drop Off Days: June 29-30th

( Note; this is a tentative timeline. This means it isn't final! It can change, but this is the general consensus for the timeline.)

If there's enough interest in the project, we would love to make this an annual thing! There's a treasure trove of brilliant ideas and creative talent behind the Legend of Zelda fandom, and this gift exchange hopes to bring that community together and brighten someone's day! If you don't have your own AU, never fear! You can still join! You can request General LOZ content, or content from your favourite LoZ AU!

You do not have to be in the discord server to participate, but the event is connected to the server. All Updates will be on the temporary server! But we encourage most of the chatting to be done on the main server. You can find the invite here! (I'll go on a personal whim to say that the server is very lovely and it's a nice small community <3 We would love to see you there)

Feel free to reblog to get to more people!

We hope to see you all there! <3

#creator content #monstrous fusion #legend of zelda #legend of zelda au #Gift Exchange

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acourtofthought · 8 months ago

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My husband finally put into words for me something that has been the main problem with this whole Anti Gwynriel because of Gwyn's past narrative.

According to Anti's, it's not ok to ship Gwyn with Az because she's not healed enough and hasn't shown that she's ready for a relationship.

According to Anti's, fanart of Gwynriel in provocative positions are not appropriate because it's disrespectful to Gwyn due to her SA, that she needs to first give verbal consent before we're allowed to imagine what a HEA for Gwynriel might look like.

And at first, it almost feels like a gotcha for them because you question whether you're disrespecting real survivors by saying, "she doesn't need to give consent for us to ship them since it's a book." This statement is true, I don't think readers should be forced to abide by real world morals when it comes to possible paths a characters arc might take, however it makes you pause for a moment to question whether what you're saying is disrespectful to those who have been victims.

But he actually flipped that entire thing on it's head when he said, "if the issue is about consent, then why is only being applied to a SA victim? Shouldn't consent be applied to everyone?"

It was kind of a lightbulb moment for me because those Anti's never vocalize how it's wrong for people to ship Eris & Az, Mor & Emerie, Vassa & Lucien (SA victim), Lucien, Jurian & Vassa, the LoA & Helion (because at this point they are not a consenting pair), Nesta & Eris. There are a bunch of non canon, non consent ships in this series and nobody has an issue with those. Nobody takes up the crusade arguing that it's wrong for people in the fandom to imagine those pairings together or drawing fanart of them in NSFW positions. Most of the time they're celebrated but has Emerie consented to having a sexual relationship with Mor? All she did was call her beautiful and Feyre had done the same in ACOMAF. Why do they never call out fanart of that pairing? Or Neris after Nesta harshly rejected him? Where Eris is currently suffering torture at the hands of Beron and we've got no clue as to his sexual preference. Also, Elain only consented to a fully clothed kiss in the bonus (remember, she grew up with human morals which she still holds fast too, she didn't jump right into bed with Graysen), we have no evidence she wanted more yet there's plenty of NSFW E/riel artwork out there and I'm betting some existed before SF, before she even consented to a kiss.

The only time I've ever heard anyone argue for consent or argue against NSFW art is in relation to Az and Gwyn and the message they're sending is that only female characters who have been SA need to give consent before fans should be shipping them.

That's when the shipping agenda makes itself known because if no other non-canon / non-consenting pairing disturbs them to the point they need to create post after post surrounding how wrong people are for shipping them, then it's clear to see that it's only Gwyn being shipped with Az that they take issue with and when only E/riels make these arguments, it seems highly suspect.

Gwyn's SA is irrelevant in terms of consent because EVERYONE should have consent before engaging in physical acts with others no matter their past. However, Gwyn's SA should not be the weight dragging her character down, the scarlet letter on her chest that means the fandom isn't allowed to give her the same treatment that all other characters receive. Where we're free to imagine and create fanart / fanfiction / headcanons (even the NSFW variety) for any pairing that we desire, regardless of their past or preference, even those who have never expressed romantic interest towards one another, except for Gwyn.

Consent in the actual book will be important but consent having already been given in our imaginations so we can imagine possibilities beyond what is currently written is the right of any reader.

#gwynriel #anti e/riel #gwyneth berdara #pro gwyneth berdara

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miasbby · 2 years ago

Text

indefinitely ours.

(teacher!reader x teacher!Ellie x Abby)

summary : You're not willing to date nor looking for anyone, but Ellie Williams, the art teacher working in the school that hired you a year ago, is making you seriously doubt that decision. With her flirting, praises and constant touches, you're all but ready to give up and ask her out. That is, until you meet her girlfriend, Abby, who to your greatest shock seems very… curious about you.

word count : 7.2k (sorry)

note : this is my first fic in the tlou fandom ever, so it'll hopefully be good and i hope the characterization is okay! i wrote this to practice writing shorter fics and failed.... it probably won't get a part 2 but who knows!

warnings : smut with a bit of plot, female anatomy reader, occasionally mean!ellie and mean!abby but they love you<3, light objectification, degradation and exhibitionism, mention of anal, alcohol use and light intoxication, sub!reader, consent is respected but there’s a few bold moments, bit of a housewife kink, crying from overstimulation, threesome.

●○●○●○●○●○●

An ordinary life is not what most aim for, but you have to be honest in that regard: there’s nothing you’ve craved to achieve more than the simple peace of life, a peace often found in modesty yet sought in extravagance.

The primary school you joined last year has fulfilled that goal in more ways than one, allowing you the safety of a job you spent years dreaming of, a kind group of colleagues that have befriended you ever since you first arrived, and a class made up of the most adorable group of pupils, all eager to learn and earn the good graces of their favorite teacher judging by how the blue of your classroom’s walls are now entirely hidden by drawings. It’s on the outskirts of the city, in a cute area where prices had not soared just yet when you first bought a house, and the neighborhood couldn’t be more welcoming.

Your time is well-spent: between preparing lessons, finding original ideas to keep a hyperactive group of six years old entertained, taking care of the renovations your new house still requires, and caring for a vegetable garden you did not expect to grow so well, it’s safe to say that you don’t have much time left for anything else, and that includes a relationship. You haven’t been looking, really, happy to settle down on your own until life picks up a slower rhythm and to make friends rather than losing yourself in back and forths. Your previous relationships were never particularly fulfilling and often ended up being on and off until you got tired of the uncertainty. You’re done with all of that.

The only person that could make you doubt the choice of celibacy, however, currently has her back turned to you, rummaging through a tiny box of chalk sticks on her desk. The kids are out at lunch and you know she tends to eat on her own in here instead of the break room where all of the teachers often meet up. Of course, you only chose to come get her because she’s been a good friend, not because of any ulterior motive…

“Planning to stay hidden in there for long or are you going to come out and eat?”

Ellie doesn’t even appear startled and you wonder if she could somehow sense your presence by the door. She throws the tiny, useless pieces in the trash, reminding you to filter through your own box of it, and turns to face you with that eternally smug smile, leaning back against the side of her desk. It’s a mess, but that’s not surprising coming from Ellie. Whether it’s because she’s the art teacher in charge in the school or because that’s simply in her nature, you’re not sure, but you know to no longer be shocked by the sight of paper and paintbrushes thrown randomly on her desk.

“Planning on distracting me for much longer or is that gonna stop at some point?” she answers back. “You can’t come in here looking like this and seriously expect me to think of lunch.”

And that is exactly why Ellie is making you reconsider your opinion on dating.

If it weren’t for the constant light flirting you still don’t know how to read into, you think that handsomely sweet face would have convinced you anyway. It’s not that Ellie is your style, it’s that you’re convinced no one on this planet could be more attractive to you. Today’s look isn’t helping either: that opened cargo shirt barely hides the simple white tank top she must own in four identical copies and doesn’t do much to conceal the tight, sculpted lines of her arms, blues veins running down to paint-stained fingers.

Oh, if only you could stop thinking about how they’d feel dipping into the heat spreading from your clit down to your entrance, filling an emptiness that rings between your legs as much as it does in your heart. Unfortunately, such luck cannot be granted to you. Not yet, and perhaps not ever.

“You’re not flattering yourself out of coming with me.” You slide your hand down to the doorknob and motion for Ellie to follow you out, but she shakes her head, grabbing her phone in the back pocket of her jeans.

“Sorry,” she says, smile dropping with hesitation before she continues. “The girlfriend forgot her lunch at home and I’ve gotta go get it for her. But I’ll see you tonight, we’re still grabbing drinks with the team, right?”

You blink, cheeks straining from the efforts required to keep your smile up even as it turns dishonest, and try to make sense of the word she just uttered, any heat in your belly extinguished by an ice storm. Did she say girl friend or… girlfriend? Why would anyway refer to their friend that way, though… Stop lying to yourself, you got the meaning right on the first try.

Your heart does not break per se, but it skips a few beats you’re incapable of missing. In the few months you got to know each other, Ellie never mentioned a girlfriend nor did she introduce anyone to you.

Well, there goes your only temptation for a relationship. Celibacy it will have to be.

“Of course. See you tonight.”

If Ellie notices the light dim in your eyes, she doesn’t show.

—

That evening, you hesitate until the very last second about going home and finding a new show worth obsessing about or going out as promised. Ellie doesn’t give you much of a choice, however, when she shows up in your classroom right after the last student filters out with his father and pulls you out of your seat, refusing to take no for an answer.

(If it’s the request that convinces you or the strong hold she has on your wrist, you’re not sure. But you still let her tug you to your car anyway.)

The ‘team’ as referred to earlier consists of five other teachers whose classrooms are all sharing a hallway with yours and with whom you spend your Friday evenings in a local beer bar next door, a place Ellie first dragged you all into when you were still relative strangers, to celebrate your arrival. Your usual table is free when you arrive, Mel and Ellie right behind you, and you suppose a beer might be the best way to forget about your stupid little crush and the shame eating at your insides for having taken friendly banter as flirting for months now.

Overall, the night is fun, and after a few well-placed jokes at your expense, you finally manage to leave what happened earlier behind and enjoy yourself. Unfortunately, whatever superior being out there who’s decided you should, after a year of knowing each other, finally get to know all about Ellie’s girlfriend, is not on your side today.

“Oh, hey Abs!” Mel waves behind where you and Ellie sit, still somehow pressed up against each other, and your friend immediately brightens up, turning around to face someone. “Have you finally decided to join us? I thought you’d never leave that work of yours for even one night a week.”

“Maybe next week if she forces me to come.” The woman comes into view and immediately rests a hand on Ellie’s shoulder, smirking down at her before her eyes travel to you and stay locked onto your own for one second too long for it not to feel somehow… knowing. “But nah, I only got here to take Ellie home. I bet she drank too much to drive and that none of you would have been able to convince her not to take her car.”

Mel laughs, joined by the others, and even you have to agree on that. Ellie is particularly stubborn on the average day, but she gets even worse after three beers and a few shots.

“I’m fine, come on… I could drive on my own, a few beers have never killed me.”

The problem is, she says that while stretching an arm over the booth seat, enveloping your shoulders and tugging you closer to her side, and the only explanation for doing that in front of that literal goddess-looking muscle-paradise girlfriend of hers has to be the alcohol. ‘Abs’ raises a curious eyebrow but her smile never dies, and you look away to focus on the bottle clutched in your hand, guts turning into a mix of nervousness and shame that does not blend well with alcohol.

Abby stays around for a bit. The whole time, her eyes remain on you, taking in the features of your face, sweeping over your figure and translating what you would interpret as unabashed attraction if it came from anyone else. It’s like she’s trying to memorize your face, your body, your soul. Like she means to lay an invisible mark on your heart you’ll feel with every beat, right next to the one Ellie has unconsciously placed there long ago.

The arm only leaves its place on your shoulders when who you now know as Abby urges Ellie to go, and you leave soon after, sitting in the dark of your car for five minutes before your head clears enough for you to drive.

That was… definitely something. But you could unfortunately not explain what in any way.

The next time you see Abby does not offer any sort of clearer explanation as to why the mood always seems odd around you and Ellie, and particularly so when she’s there with you.

She comes around for drinks for the first time in months the following week and turns your offer to change seats down, seemingly fine with sitting next to you, her girlfriend on your other side. Her presence warms the hearts of everyone around the table but yours, stressing you out beyond sanity. You know you didn’t do anything wrong and that it’s probably a good thing that you learned of Ellie’s seemingly very joyful and fulfilling relationship now rather than after an attempted kiss or a date proposal. Yet, you cannot help but feel unsure around her - like she knows, like she can read through your heart and flick through its pages until its secrets have been bared.

Abby never talks to you nor mentions you in her conversations, yet, she’s always got an eye trailed on your figure, always silently insists on you being aware that you’re taking all of her attention.

And Ellie, well… Ellie has not changed, and that’s probably where the actual problem lies.

She still smiles at you with that signature smugness you know is only reserved for her girlfriend. She still flirts and teases and touches, still makes comments about how prettily you blush and how well that shirt fits you and you never know what to answer to any of those things. This time again, one of her arms is spread over your shoulders, her fingers fiddling with the fabric of Abby’s shirt on your other side, and if anyone were to look, they’d probably think you’re dating either of them - if not both.

Your thoughts are interrupted by her voice, and you almost let go of the glass of water you requested earlier when its now familiar murmur tickles your ear. “I like this skirt. Is it me you got it for? I’m sure Abby would like it just as much.”

Poorly disguised shock shines in your eyes but Ellie appears unphased, not even bothering with a glance at where her girlfriend listens to Mel vent about a fight between two of her students. You clear your throat, avoiding the heaviness of her stare, and shake your head timidly, scared to voice out your thoughts or to be heard. The fabric isn’t anything short per se, but it rode up your thighs through the night, and you’re suddenly far too aware of where Abby’s glances might have led to earlier. Ellie’s only response is a chuckle.

You think that’s the end of it but that’s without counting on the end of the night - when everyone leaves but Ellie insists you stay around some more, and Abby doesn’t show any interest in moving away, her thighs spread and pressing you further into Ellie. The arm behind your back moves and this time, you can’t control the way your body jumps when she places a hand just above your knee, stroking the tight fabric of your skirt.

“So,” you begin, trying to break the silence. “How long have you two been together?”

Abby takes a swing of her beer and your eyes follow the bulging muscle of her biceps until Ellie reminds you of her presence by patting your thigh affectionately. “Three years now. We met when Abby came around the school to renovate the gym with her crew and ended up moving in two months later. She’s a carpenter.”

“Oh,” you exclaim, interested but also still very much nervous. “That’s definitely helpful to have around at home. How long have you been doing this for?”

It’s the first time you address her directly and the kindness you’re met with feels almost surprising. You don’t think you would be kind to someone your girlfriend is two inches away from touching inappropriately right under your nose, but you suppose you should be glad that’s the case here.

“Ever since I was a kid, really. Being a carpenter didn’t exactly fit my father’s plans but he always encouraged me anyway when I saw how much fun I had fixing things and building my own. What about you? What got you to into teaching?”

Tension leaves your back altogether when her answer reflects the smile perched on her lips and the mirth shining in her eyes. “Children, really. It started with babysitting and then all I could think about was teaching.”

Abby’s eyes dip down to your lips. “That’s cute.”

“I told you she’s adorable,” Ellie interrupts. “And beautiful too, isn’t she? I knew she’d be your type.”

Your lips part to speak but before a protest can slip past them, Abby nods, smile turning almost predatory. “I’d say she’s your own just as much. You’ve always liked your girls a bit innocent.”

“I’m not-”

“Can you blame me, though?”

Abby pretends to think for a second and gets that knowing look again, reading through the blush spreading up to your ears and the fast ups and downs of your chest in ways you fail to understand yourself. Everything’s going too fast, like a ball bouncing from one side of the court to the other, and it suddenly feels like they’re discussing you, praising you, without even including you in the conversation anymore.

“No. I think I understand.”

Ellie chuckles, inching her hand higher up on your lap, and she allows the silence to persist for a moment longer before standing up to order another round for you. Abby never looks away. You’re still trying to comprehend what just happened, still failing to make sense of why your friend’s partner is staring at you like she’s considering the interest of throwing you over the table dirty with food crumbs and alcohol spills and flexing those fingers inside of your cunt instead of playing with the tip of her bottle.

“Oh, you’ve got some crumbs here,” Abby says, eyes flicking down to wear your shirt wraps tightly around your chest. You follow her line of sight, wondering how that could be when you didn’t eat any of the fries they ordered earlier, and find nothing. “Here, I’ll get them off for you.”

Before a word of gratefulness can echo between the two of you, your lips part in shock, a hand positioning itself right above your breast and arching a curious eyebrow, staring into the depths of your eyes. There’s no hesitation in the action, but rather a sort of anticipation you find yourself trapped into. “Is this alright?” she asks, the “Yes,” out by your lips before you can even make sense of what she means.

Deep down, you know what it means. Deep down, you’ve got a feeling Abby might have been familiar with you far before your recent introduction.

Once your agreement has been voiced, Abby startles you, immediately aiming for your right breast and gripping it with the whole length of her palm. A thumb rubs at soft skin only hidden by the light fabric of your shirt, almost transparent, not thick enough to act as a proper barrier, and you can feel it all - the heat of her hand, its roughness, how it’s thick enough, big enough to effortlessly envelop all of one breast.

It’s the first time her eyes have moved away from the trance they had yours stuck into, her stare dipping down to where she pretends to rub at your shirt, only reminding you of the absence of a bra to truly cover you. Your nipple hardens under her palm and that seems to be the goal because her hand changes sides, repeating the process, teasing and rubbing, the cotton fabric too rough for the sensitive little bud. Your thighs rub against each other, failing to get any sort of release from the pressure burning your cunt, hips almost bucking in a silent plea to be filled up by those very same fingers.

Abby smiles, still kind, still honest, and shifts her hand only to roll it between two fingers, pulling a wet moan from your lips you fear the people behind you might catch. “See, that’s better now, isn’t it?” And just like that, she pulls away, hand settling back around her beer, leaving you to deal with the wetness soaking your underwear and the blush heating your face, shining like a broken christmas light.

“Y-yeah.” It’s odd that you even manage to speak when flames circle hardened nipples, driving you into unknown depths of desire, but you’re proud to say you at least manage a coherent sound. “Thank you.”

When Ellie comes back, conversation follows a course far more normal, and if it weren’t for the hooded eyes, the pulsing heat, and the hand claiming its spot back on your lap, you’d think you hallucinated all of the tension.

The state of your underwear when you strip down before a shower later that night, however, is all the proof you need. Yet, you fail to truly comprehend what happened. The innocence that almost shone in Abby’s eyes as she touched you is impossible to make sense of, and the next morning, you’re no longer sure of what her intentions truly were.

Did she mean to tease you like Ellie has been doing - as a friend, a friend who has a pretty interesting definition of the word platonic but a friend nonetheless? Or was this more?

You’re not sure, but if anything, you won’t be the one to bring up the question just yet.

Ellie and Abby are coming over to your house to help with the endless renovations you’ve been making. And no, it wasn’t your idea.

You’ve been avoiding thinking about Abby and how she’s just as illegally fine as who you already considered to be the hottest woman alive, and although ignoring Ellie is impossible, you at least made some progress this past week with accepting the flirting as some meaningless fun. When you complained about the difficulties you’ve been having with painting the ceilings of two rooms and fixing the guest room bed, however, Ellie suggested that they come over to help and, well, how could you turn down such a nice proposal?

That’s how you end up watching them by the kitchen’s window as they relax around a glass of iced tea in the garden, cheeks stained with light grey paint and arms bared, water running in the sink and acting as the background noise to your current fantasies.

The mind owns a power the heart only dreams of having, capable of eternal wanderings uncontrolled by even the strongest wills.

Yours has not resisted purposeless dreams. Dreams that once involved Ellie, a sweet craving for what could perhaps come to exist in the realm of reality - a craving for late-night guitar sessions and paintings in bold colors, for rough palms to sculpt your heart into submission and teasing smirks wiped away by kisses. Dreams that now involve someone else, a person you have yet to truly understand but who seems to perfectly fit a puzzle from which you did not believe a piece lost. Her body rings with a rigidity that’s a lot more pronounced, yet her heart appears softer, willing to lead you further into the depths of a euphoric swamp.

A blurry motion startles you out of your thoughts and you blink to find the water is still running, the time still passing. Ellie is waving at you and Abby is staring with a raised eyebrow of curiosity.

You smile, waving back, and turn off the tap.

Fantasies are just that, unfortunately. You’ll have to make do with your imagination because it seems Abby isn’t intending on repeating what you’re getting more and more convinced was meaningless teasing anytime soon.

They spend the next weekend at your house too, fixing broken cupboards and a tall wardrobe you couldn’t figure out how to close fully, helping with the garden and any heavy objects you need to move around.

It comes to a point where you decide that if you can’t have either of them, then dreaming is fine. The only problem is that you end up doing that a lot, and getting caught is inevitable.

“Could I borrow your shower?” asks Ellie once the day reaches its end, the sun freefalling on the horizon. “I don’t want to dirty your couch.” Abby has fetched a chair for the same reason but you know how much Ellie like to sit beside you. Her girlfriend’s presence has not stopped the oncoming stream of cuddles she requires from you, and you’re more than happy to be held, touch-starved since the end of your last relationship.

“Sure. I’ll get the food ready.”

You stand from the couch to head for the kitchen but before you can disappear, Ellie grips the hem of her shirt and pulls it up, revealing a glistening, tight stomach in what feels like a slow motion to you but is surely a very normal pace for anyone else. The fabric slides off her shoulders and gets thrown straight to Abby’s face but your brain is in no way capable to register anything but newly revealed skin and soft curves hidden under a white sports bra.

“Feel free to join me,” she adds, teasingly, and you know it has to be directed at Abby who, it seems, is just as affected as you are judging by the darkened gaze she keeps directed at Ellie, but if that’s the case, then you cannot explain why Ellie is staring right at you as she says it before turning around and leaving for the bathroom.

It’s that gaze you see once they’re gone that night, writhing on top of your bed, covers thrown to the floor and pillow wet with your spit. It’s that gaze encouraging a second, then a third finger to fit into your cunt, the pressure too much yet so far from what you wish for, from how well you know they would both fill you, breaching past undesired tightness and taking all that you’re willing to give.

And it’s their voices, blended in as one, whispering praise into your ear and urging you to let go when you finally fall over the edge, tears pooling in your eyes and teeth aching from the marks they’ve left in that poor pillow.

“You know,” you begin, words not slurring but speech clearly affected by physical exhaustion and beer. “I thought you were flirting with me before you suddenly mentioned your girlfriend.”

A chuckle greets you, but you can’t tell if it comes from Abby or Ellie, both of them cuddling on the couch in front of you as you lay on the fluffy chair you bought for decoration purposes but that’s actually pretty amazing to use when sleepy. The night has fallen and you spent a lot of time in the garden today while Abby watched over you and Ellie finished with painting touch-ups, explaining the tiredness numbing your arms and the effects of the alcohol.

Your eyes remain closed and you shift around when air tickles the bottom of your stomach, your shirt having ridden up to reveal skin.

“What if I was?” and this time, you know it’s Ellie - sure, because it sounds like her, but also because she’s the one who likes teasing you the most.

You huff, internally rolling your eyes. “With a girlfriend like Abby, trust me, you were not. You’d be dumb to flirt with anyone else or want to kiss anyone else,” you say, voice barely above a murmur. That second beer should not have been handed in your hand, but Ellie has always been a bad influence and Abby drinks them with little effort. Slowly, you half-whisper, “Bet her lips are so soft.”

Abby laughs this time, reminding you of her presence, but you’re too far gone to care. “I think yours would put up a great fight in a contest,” she says, the smile evident in her voice. “Maybe even win, who knows. I know I wouldn’t mind trying you out.”

“Hey!” Ellie interrupts, “I get to try her out first. I found her. You would want me first, wouldn’t you?”

It takes a while for you to register the question and understand you’re being spoken to. “I think I want the both of you�� together.”

Someone’s breath hitches, but you fall asleep before you can find out whose.

All you remember the next morning is strong arms holding onto the back of your thighs and your back carrying you up the stairs, a pair of sweet lips leaving a kiss on your forehead, and the throbbing traces of a hand on the naked skin of your stomach.

That must have been a fairly nice dream.

You’re in the kitchen when things truly take a turn you did not expect to happen in reality, breaching the realm of fantasies and fully stepping into your life - your peaceful and joyful life that, as you will soon come to realize, was actually missing two precious souls to reach the desperate form of completion you sought.

Abby is drying the dishes you’re washing and Ellie is… well, she’s simply being herself, avoiding any sort of chore and whistling in the living room as she chooses what movie you’ll all be watching tonight. The mood has been particularly tense today and this time, you’re glad to say it’s not your fault. Abby has been especially attentive to you, asking about your day, your past, and the shape you imagine your future to take, casually exchanging indecipherable looks with Ellie. They’re more than familiar with your house now yet they’ve never acted more like strangers scared of trespassing.

If you didn’t know better, you would think of them as almost… afraid.

Fortunately, the tension left as soon as night fell and you all settled back into soothing habits. At least, that’s what you think, until a shadow looms over your back, blocking the naked lightbulb from shining light on the last plate in your hand, and you realize that Ellie isn’t as busy as she made it out to be.

“Dinner was great, thanks for preparing all of it again,” she says, supporting her weight with one hand on the countertop and the left one innocently resting on your hip. Her touch is welcomed and familiar, her palm cupping the curve to perfection. “Anyone ever told you you’d make the perfect little wife?”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes although you know she won’t be able to see it. “If that’s truly the case, there’d be a lot more people pilling up at my door, or at least one person. I think you two are just terrible cooks in desperate need of a chef.”

Abby shakes her head, nudging you with her elbow as she wipes water from a pack of forks. “You’re not wrong in thinking we’d wife you up in an instant if you wanted, but not because you’d be a great chef.”

“Yeah,” Ellie agrees, flexing her fingers where they rest on your hip. “I can think of a few other reasons. You’d be an amazing mother, for one, and you’re far more patient than either of us deserve.”

“And you’re ready to put up with her stubbornness, so a perfect match, really.” Abby’s comment makes you laugh but Ellie speaks again before you can tease her about her own issues with never doing as told.

“All of that, and I even bet you’d be such a pretty little thing to fuck.” Your hands freeze on where you’ve just put the plate away, tension seizing unready muscles. You blink, staring by the window, the night turning it into a mirror and reflecting the shock wild in your eyes. For a second, you’re convinced to have misheard. But the silence that follows tells the opposite story. Ellie’s close, suddenly, closer than she was before, and Abby’s hands have stilled as well, her body tight with stress. “I feel like we didn’t thank you properly for all the meals you’ve prepared for us. What do you think, Abby?”

At the edge of your vision, you can sense that Abby has given in and glances at you from the corner of an eye, the sound of her breathing audible, loud. “I think she very much likes politeness, and… it would be rude not to give back after taking so much, wouldn’t it?”

“Right. And what about you, um?” The hand on your hip slowly slides closer to your front before drawing back, again and again, in what feels like a maddening caress. “Do you think we should thank you? Together, I mean.”

Later, you’ll have more than enough time to consider just how stupid it was for you, at that precise moment, to doubt the true meaning behind Ellie’s suggestion. There’s a part of you that yearns for this to be real, for it to feel real, but that part cannot be allowed to exist because it is directly connected to a risk of disappointment you’re not sure you would survive. So, when you reply a breathy little, “Yes,” you don’t actually expect what follows.

“Good girl.”

A whine spills past your lips but the reason behind its existence is blurry - is it the praise, vibrating through your lungs and soaking your cunt, or is it the hand that fully slides against your front, rubbing at the seam of your jeans frustratingly right above your heat, the other suddenly palming the curve of your ass and roughly kneading skin? You think you’ll never know for the first moan, but the next one is inevitably due to the second pair of hands finding a place to have some fun of their own.

“I can feel how soaked you are already,” Ellie says, tone teasing, taunting and forcing past your defenses. “Are you sure you didn’t expect this to happen? How often did you fuck yourself wishing it was us, hmm, pretty girl?”

You think that question should not require an answer, mostly because you’re incapable of giving any, incapable of getting that brain of yours to think and function properly. But Abby doesn’t seem happy with your silence, and she finally decides to remind you of her presence.

“We asked you a question, sweetheart.” Her voice startles you and your head turns to face her, your heart soothed by the admiration and the awe and the desire reflected in usually tight features. She’s smiling, not that usually kind expression but one that’s almost amused, and you realize you’re in serious, serious trouble with these two. Two fingers seize you by the chin, pushing it upward, and a thumb rubs at your bottom lip. “How empty did you feel thinking about how good we could take care of you?”

“I- I didn’t-” Ellie’s nails sink into the flesh of your ass, reprimanding, and Abby tuts, shaking her head disappointedly.

“It’s alright,” she adds. “You can be honest with us. There’s not a single time we fucked since you started working here that we didn’t think about you, about how complete you’d make us.” And you’re going to process that at some point, but now will not be that time. Not when she continues to speak, stealing any hope for coherency from under your feet. “We’ll take care of you now, though. Come on, Ellie, don’t be a tease.”

Ellie hesitates, hands still, fingers flexing. They stare at each other with blazing heat in what you think could be a fight for dominance you’re not sure to make sense of when they could just take out all of that on you.

“You better beg for it.”

When the gearwheels begin to roll again, you lose all sense of reality.

It’s like they both observed you for months, like they figured out what button to push and with how much strength, what you love and what you’re too ashamed to admit you need. Chills of shame erupt on your arms at the idea, worsened by how smoothly Ellie works your body.

“Let’s get these off you,” she mutters, lips hovering right next to your nape, inches away from a kiss. “You won’t be needing them around us anymore.”

There’s possessiveness in her words and there’s possessiveness in how fast she slips the button of your jeans off and tugs on the material, slowly, as if to admire what is finally hers to worship and use as she deems fit. Abby growls, watching with a well-trained eye as the tight fabric slides over your ass, and her hand moves down to press against your throat, keeping your back shamefully arched, ass raised for their eyes to feast onto. Your pants end halfway down your thighs, and you have to say there’s nothing surprising about Ellie’s eagerness to get to the source of her desires, hot between your thighs.

“Abby told me I’d love your ass. Guess she wasn’t wrong.” You expect your underwear to follow next but she decides not to bother with that. “Ever gotten fucked there before, or are you keeping that tight little hole for when we decide to use it?”

“N-never, I- I don’t-”

Abby sighs, shaking her head warningly. “Ellie… focus.”

“Right, sorry. We’ll keep that in mind for another time, you’re ours now anyway, aren’t you? Our pretty little toy.”

You’re all but ready to cry when fingers slides into the front of your underwear, familiar roughness perceptible in the actions, immediately drenched in your desires. Your cunt aches, your core throbs, and your nipples harden. A cocktail of needs that can only be sated by much more than what you’re given. Efficient fingers part your folds before expertly reaching that little bud of sensitiveness at the top of your mound, circling it, pinching it, driving you crazy with it.

But that’s not what truly seals the first release of the night. That only comes when Abby decides to fully join in on the fun.

Fingers unbutton your shirt until it parts to reveal the pale pink bra that matches the current dark pink of your panties, only abandoning your neck until the offending lace has been pushed right under your breasts and returning to its hold. You think Abby’s going to kiss you, for a moment, but she’s only reveling in the hot puffs of air slipping past your lips and trying to swallow down the guttural moan that vibrates in your throat when Ellie decides she wants to take the next step.

The hand that had for now been palming your ass travels closer to your center and tugs flimsy fabric out of the way carelessly. You’re not given a warning when the first finger breaches past your entrance, only the sound of Ellie spitting on her fingers for unnecessary lube and that feeling of needing frustratingly more. A whine lodges itself at the back of your throat, and they both laugh, only turning your frustration worse.

You want to move and fight back, tell them you’re more than capable of taking charge yourself. But there’s something about being treated as a toy meant to receive pleasure, about being admired and taken and praised, about that second finger joining the first and filling the tightness of your cunt, that forces you into a soothing form of submission, allowing every touch and taking them willingly.

Abby palms at one breast, rolling a nipple under the strong surface in a touch that translates all of her strength. “Is that blush for us, pretty thing? You’re gonna come all over her hand like a good slut already, aren’t you?”

And, it’s cruel, but of course you do.

Ellie flexes her fingers, increasing the speed of her arm. You can’t see it, but you know veins must shy prettily all over her forearm and biceps must be bulging from the tightness required to fuck you like she does now - like she wants to pull orgasm after orgasm from your core until you no longer understand what it means not to feel the maddening pulse of a release coursing through your body like liquid fire. Abby turns meaner, rougher, pinching a nipple between two fingers and pressing the hand further into your neck, forcing you to follow its direction and standing further on your toes.

Four hands - teasing, fucking, taking.

Two souls tauntingly attracting your own into their orbit, sealing an invisible lock around your heart, your body, your being itself.

And sweet, sweet praise, whispered right under your ear, sending you into a release you’re helpless to control.

“Ellie, Abby… I-” The moan that travels from your chest and spills past your lips is rough, guttural, connected to the inhuman waves of pleasures rocking through your body. Your cunt clenches around the fingers still thrusting in and out of your center, clinging onto the digits until they’re forced to stop, Ellie breathing heavily in your ear. Abby kisses down the curve of your throat, teeth nibbling at sensitive skin and laying a mark you refuse to ever cover.

Your moan ends, broken off in tense breathing, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, and that’s when you catch the groan vibrating Ellie’s throat. It, too, falls into silence.

Abby swears against your skin, a deep, rough “Fuck,” that sends shivers down your spine.

“Told you she’d be the cutest little thing to corrupt,” Ellie teases, slowly sliding out of you, fighting against the tightness of your walls and your eagerness to be fucked into a stupid mess. “She’s all proper and shit but I could tell she’d love it.”

“I never doubted you.” Abby says, kissing the lone tear sliding down your cheek with all of the tenderness she can conjure. “Come on, let’s get her on a proper surface.”

Heat blooms on your cheeks when Ellie steps away to allow Abby to take you into her arms, the ground suddenly disappearing from under your feet. The way they talk about you like you’re not even there, like you’re too fucked out to understand a single word, would be shameful under any other circumstance. You know it’s only a game when Ellie takes advantage of finally facing you by planting a soft kiss on your forehead, pushing away a lazy strand of hair.

They begin to walk toward your bedroom like they perfectly know the way, and your vision turns dark right as they push the door open.

“Can you hold her open for me or have you been slacking at the gym?”

Your eyes remain closed, but your brain kickstarts itself into working properly again. You can feel the familiar linen of your sheets under your ass and soft naked breasts pressed against your back, another weight shifting in front of you on the bed.

The body behind yours shakes in rhythm with a chuckle and you recognize Ellie. “Can you still eat pussy or should we trade so I can show you? Sorry we didn’t plan for your strap, I thought she might have a cock lying around but… we’ll have to take care of that next time.”

“Fuck you,” says Abby half-heartedly, the sound followed by more shifting.

You’re fully aware again when Ellie grabs the back of your thighs and tugs them, spreading your legs and allowing air to tickle the slick still running from your center, drenched folds bared for anyone to use as they please.

“Come on, get to it. I know you’re hungry.”

Another pair of hands holds you by the ass and your eyes flutter open, hoping to catch sight of what you once dreamed about. Abby barely spares you a glance before she all but leaps to feast on your cunt, igniting a fire not yet extinguished.

“Abby… Abby…” You repeat her name like a plea, like a prayer. Your hips buck and trash around, your heart pauses and starts again, your releases come and come again right after each other until you exist no more, a broken toy a kid cannot help but continue to play with.

Lips circle your clit and suck, pull and deliver rough kisses. An expert tongue gathers slicks at your entrance and spreads it all over already drenched folds, eating rather than licking, a starved woman relishing in her first and last mean. It’s all too much, too soon, too sensitive, and you’re in no way capable of pulling away, four hands keeping you all tight and secure in their hold, a prisoner to your own pleasure.

“Keep them coming, pretty thing. I want your cunt red by the time we’re done with you tonight,” Ellie murmurs in your ear before resuming the path of tenderness her mouth trailing on down your neck.

You only find the strength left in yourself to follow that order.

An unwelcomed warmth burns your closed eyelids and you shift, attempting to escape its path. To your great despair, it doesn’t budge. A tired groan echoes in the room and you blink sleep back into your body, limbs stretching and encountering a soreness that did not exist before.

Oh. Right. Last night happened and… it was not a dream this time.

Fear seizes your heart for a moment and you quickly look around, scared to find the bed empty save for your body. A happy sigh of relief marks the moment you see them - Abby clinging to Ellie’s back, still sound asleep and temptingly naked, and Ellie holding onto your waist, staring up at you with a smug look and a kind smile.

“Morning,” she says, voice broken from sleep. “You didn’t think we’d abandon you, did ya?”

“N-no I… I’m just happy to see you.” You cannot control the dumb smile that widens on your lips, and Ellie’s smirk only widens, her hold pulling you back into the eternal depths of the sheets.

“We’re not going anywhere, try to get some more sleep.”

It’s a simple sentence, meaningless on the surface.

Yet, you know it’s more than that.

It’s a promise.

A promise for more, meant to suppress the doubts blossoming in your chest. A promise that they’ll be there when you awake again, and again, and again.

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