#(...on top of... all of my other writing projects)

[swordoffrivolousthings]

Rick Riordan has no scale for what it means to give characters positions of power or influence

I have seen a trend recently while thinking about the positions of power in PJO and HOO and who occupy them. A post that I can't find again also has breached this topic on a much smaller scale, so credit to them. (I'll try to find them and tag them.)

What I mean by positions of power and/or influence is this: positions from where a demigod has the ability to control organisations (i.e. the Hunters of Artemis and Camp Jupiter) or influence how and why things are done in a certain way (i.e. Annabeth's redesigning of Olympus and Jason's designing some of the other gods' cabins).

The first example is THALIA and how, upon becoming a hunter for Artemis, she is instantly catapulted to the top of the chain. Artemis bestows upon her the role of Lieutenant of Artemis. She is Artemis's second in command if the goddess herself isn't present.

But what does Thalia know of the inner workings of the Hunt? Next to nothing, because until a few days before, she hated them and what they stood for. She gets over her hate, which is part of her development, but it doesn't make her any less informed. One can't speculate that at some point she and Zoë have talked about the Hunt, because we have no hint of that happening in the books. One can headcanon that they'd had such a conversation, but we are speaking about canon. So she is blind. That would be fine, because she is a newbie, and has time to learn.

But no. Riordan gives her the most important place a hunter can occupy in the hierarchy. Why? The way I see it is Riordan decided that now that Thalia's completed her arc, she needs a physical reward. But going by book logic, I would also assume that Artemis was displaying some major nepotism. Because look, that is her sister, and she is in a meeting with daddy and she'd already crossed a line when interacting with her father. (I mean that she wants to reward the heroes while Zeus, most probably, just sees what they did as their duty and not something to be rewarded.) So Artemis boosts her sister up in the hierarchy so she wouldn't slight Zeus again.

Also, we've been ignoring the fact that there are far more experienced and reliable huntresses in the Hunt. Some of them have been with Artemis for many, many years bordering on millennia.

Next up is ANNABETH, about who I've already vented my frustrations, but let me say it again: Annabeth, while inspired by architecture and wanting to be an architect, is not trained and has no experience with it besides a few books and what I can assume is trying her hand at drawing potential projects. She isn't fit to redesign Olympus and certainly not able to think about all the facets of what it would entail, because she doesn't have the practical knowledge and the studies.

Yet Riordan writes it so that the gods offer her the opportunity to redesign their city state (is Olympus considered a city state??? Because it's what I've been thinking of it as). Why so? Because she has survived the war? (not like he was going to kill her, and I didn't think he would do it at any point in TLO.) And therefore she should get what she wanted besides all the PTSD and other disorders that most survivors get?

Because this is what I see.

We already know that the structure within Camp Jupiter is hinging on the child soldiers they train. The Senate is made out of centurions and ghosts and older citizens of New Rome, and we weren't shown that there had ever been adult Praetors. This is what Riordan intended, because this is what he wrote.

But it begs the question, why have REYNA and JASON specifically done to be awarded the position of Praetor that early in their lives? We are told that they went on at least a quest together, so they must have been pretty close before being made partners, and they seem to have worked well together.

We know that Reyna is a highly capable leader and managed to lead Camp Jupiter on her own for roughly 6 months. Jason was raised as a leader, so it is natural to assume that he knew how things worked. But that doesn't show why they were specifically chosen, especially after such a big conflict.

Just because Jason defeated a Titan single-handedly, it doesn't mean that there weren't any more capable hands for the duty to fall on. Also, has Reyna's POV ever revealed why she was chosen? Because I can't remember.

What I mean to say is that there were other, adult, people for the reasonability to fall back on. Because there had been said to be adults in the Senate. But Riordan, like before, has decided that the duty should fall on hormonal teenagers that have dumb ideas (not referring to Jason and Reyna, but more like stereotyping) instead of the adults. The excuse that demigods older than late teens and early twenties doesn't exist in New Rome. And don't tell me that not one of those people would take the duty, because there is shown to be influence and political power associated with being Praetor.

Alongside this, lets go to PERCY. Riordan decided that the Romans would raise Percy as Praetor because they'd seen him fight and the fact that he kind of saved their asses. Cool, I could understand this reasoning if the Romans had more time to get to know him. Because Percy's great! but he still is a child of Neptune, who they don't trust, and they don't trust him, because he was there for only a few hours a few days ago.

There is no basis on which to raise him straight from probation to praetorian-ship.

But Percy saved them! So Riordan decided, against all common sense, that he should get a position of power somewhere he knows next to nothing about, because of plot reasons and drama. Why couldn't Percy have just been seen as a great help and on that the Romans would build their trust upon him? To start to value his opinion?

But the plot of HOO moves so fast is was no room to take a breath and let things unfold naturally. So Riordan gives political and military powers to characters willy-nilly because it will help the story along.

Again to JASON, the cabin design things is the same as Annabeth's, so there is nothing to really say again. Other then the fact that they parallel each other in this way, and not in the good way when talking about writing.

Riordan has no scale of what it means when he gives his characters power and authority where they hadn't achieved it. He gives them upgrades in authority as a way to pay them for their good behaviour and character development, or simply because he hadn't thought all the way through what their positions would entail, and their ramifications.

I hope that I made a great job at explaining what I wanted. If you didn't understand what I said at some point, please do reach out. I can talk about this for a while.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.

(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)

[amethystina]

I just wanted to say that it was thanks to you that I watched Black Knight, and boy was it worth it! It's such a good drama and your fanfic is so good to read. I love how useless 5-8 is while pining meanwhile Sa Wol is working so hard. It's hilarious. 5-8 doesn't really think about much else and it's so funny.

I'm so glad to hear that! :D I agree — Black Knight is such a good drama! It probably won't change your life, but it's a nice and solid post-apocalyptic story that knows what it wants to do and does it well. So while it didn't do anything groundbreaking, it was still very satisfying to watch. And I just love the world and all the concepts they introduce! It's so interesting!

Yeah, 5-8 truly is such a mess when he pines x'D I mean, I can understand why, though? Some of it is definitely restlessness brought on by PTSD and the fact that his life's mission is suddenly over. Like, he doesn't really know what to do now? Because, tragically, he didn't seem to have much else in his life outside of the rebellion? And so his mind latches on to Sa Wol — in more ways than one — and that ends up being the only thing 5-8 can think about.

Also, I can't deny that I have a fondness for the big and strong tols being so in love with their chosen smols that it makes them actively lose brain cells. And 5-8 fits so very nicely into that trope. 5-8 may not seem to have all that many weaknesses at first glance, but Sa Wol is definitely one of them at this point.

Sa Wol, by comparison, is really doing the most right now, yes. That boy knows exactly what he wants and he's going to pursue it with the stubbornness and fortitude we all know and love. Godspeed, tiny chaos goblin — I'm sure you'll get 5-8 to admit he's in love with you sooner rather than later.

Thank you so much for sending this ask! I admit that I feel very frustrated with how long it has been since I last updated that fic :/ I know it's not my fault (because I certainly didn't ask for the whole burnout thing) but I'm just so eager to keep telling that story. There are so many scenes I look forward to writing! So I'm hoping to be able to write at least one chapter for it after I've finished editing my current project (Marvel this time, because people have been waiting literally six years for this fic). So let's keep our fingers crossed?

Anyway! Thank you so much for telling me! That fandom is so incredibly small and it brings me so much joy to hear that people are reading and enjoying my fic! Thank you 💜

[radiation]

(Some people will kill me for this) I watched Neon Genesis Eva back in 2021-ish and the more I think about the show the worse the show gets, I think its a very pretty show, Especially with the strain the animators were put under. But the character writing is pretty awful regarding all of the women in the show, and even disregarding misogyny as a element (Which it IS) The show builds so much momentum just to do nothing with it, This show has a lot of potential it throws away to focus on asuka or whoever shoving her ass in the camera. The themes of human connection are surface level at the best and misguided especially for a audience of 14 year olds at the worst.

Its such a mixed bag I enjoy talking about mostly cause I can find no one who agrees with me, half of the people I encounter just enjoy the cool art anyway and I can get behind that, I just find it impossible to ignore the many many issues with the writing.

.

[compacflt]

I am sad for your 'the end of the top gun era' that will come. Is there any possibility that even when you finish with all your ideas, someday you will still write icemav? Or are you done shipping icemav after everything is said?

i will never stop shipping or caring about icemav, they are my homeboys & my bffs

i just have other real world writing obligations i need to focus on once i post my extras (soon) 😞 have to start dedicating myself to my creative writing thesis & journalism work fully

Yeah if i have other ideas/motivation to finish old ideas i will definitely do that! It’s not goodbye forever

[demodoggonetired]

Steve walks into their shared apartment to a scene of Eddie face down on their surprisingly plush, thrifted sofa. Various campaign notebooks, sketches, and dnd guides left to spill out his bag onto the floor. 

"I'm home!" 

The only response is a tepid "hHh." as Eddie further burrows his face between the cushions and backrest of the couch. 

Setting aside his bag and keys, Steve strides over to his boyfriend. 

"What's that all about?"

The huddled form emits another "hn." 

"Is that so?" 

"mm."

He takes a seat beside Eddie’s head. Runs a soothing hand along the other’s shoulders, fingers splayed wide. Applies pressure with the heel of his palm. 

Eddie melts further, this time with a minor release of tension. The presence of the other already a balm in itself. 

“Does that mean game day ended badly?” 

Still mostly curled ridged and with as little motion as possible, Eddie shakes his head negative. 

“No?” Steve asks, incredulous. “So then your 9-hour ‘Super, Ultimat-‘ uh… shit… ‘Super. Ultra. Perfect-‘“

“sumpoe.” Eddie corrects punitively into the cushion.

“Sorry, so then your 9-hour ‘Super, Ultra, Mega, Perfect, One-Shot Extravaganza’ went off exactly as you wanted. And then instead of napping in our comfortable bed--that you’d insisted on slathering in pillows because you, and I quote, ‘Wanted to feel like you were being smothered by geese and also just like the jumbles of texture’--you chose to stay out on the couch? Do I have that right?”

“mhm. too bright. couldn’t make it.”

Steve glances at the bay window adorning their living room-kitchen area. Thankfully, enough time seems to have passed since Eddie returned home. The sun now set, the room awashed in its final red hues. 

Even still, as Steve manages to coax him to turn over onto his back, Eddie’s face remains tense. With a sneaking suspicion, Steve smooths out the wrinkle in Eddie’s brow and prompts further, “Yeah? Anything else?”

“head hurts. stomach. nauseous.”

Yea, exactly as he figured. 

“Babe, did you eat anything today? During the 9 hours y’all were at the table?”

…

“was distracted.”

Steve sighs then gives a reprimanding pinch to Eddie’s cheek. Not hard. He has some mercy for his ailing boyfriend.

Said boyfriend retaliates with a half-hearted, protesting squawk and grabs the offending hand, cuddling into it and biting Steve’s pinky finger. 

Steve lets it happen. 

Instead he choses to stare into the kitchen, subconsciously rubbing small circles into Eddie’s temple even as he’s nibbled. Thinks over what supplies and lighter foods they currently have. 

Half to himself, he comments “I think we still have some saltines left from Robin’s Soup Experiments last week. That should help soak up the stomach acid and get something in your stomach.” He looks back at Eddie laid across the cushions. “You can take some pain meds after that if you want.”

“mkay.”

Steve goes to stand, except-

“Eds, you’ll have to stop biting my hand if you want me to go get the crackers.”

“nope. mine now.” Another, harder bite is given to the digit. 

“Hey- Ow, ow, Eddie, Eds, stop.” A responding, equally harder pinch but this time to Eddie’s nose, lifting up and extricating his finger as he does so. 

“haaa- cheater. appreciate my love bites.”  

With a snort, Steve walks towards the kitchen and begins to collect his well-used, headache-relieving arsenal.

- - -

Later, after saltines and buttered pasta have been eaten and hot towels have cooled, the two lay cuddled in their indeed comfortable and pillow laden bed. Strong, dexterous fingers card through the other’s curls. Gentle nails along the scalp to chase away any lingering pain. 

“Thanks, Stevie. You’re a true lifesaver.” He snuggles into Steve’s chest just that little bit further. “My brain and stomach would have exploded without your care.”

“Well we can’t have that, you need those.”

“Then I’d never be able to DM another Sumpoe day for the group again.” Eddie untucks his head just enough to look at Steve imploringly. “Then you’d have to inherit the job of Dungeon Master as my next of kin and they’d Eat. You. Alive, Stevie!”

“Damn. Guess I better get to studying then, just in case.” The sarcasm drips off in waves.

Not one to be deterred, Eddie sits up and over Steve in a flash. Eyes sparkling with mischief and new ideas as his hands come up on either side of Steve’s face and grab into his jawbone. The hand that was running through Eddie’s hair now dislodged to his shoulder.

“Steve, Stevie-love, Bunny-bear, you’re so, so right. You need to be my DM assistant for our next one shot.” 

Matching his level of dramatics, Steve presses back into his designated pillow and drapes a hand across his forehead.

“Noooo. Don’t make me do it, I’ll be the one to pass away. I can’t keep up with all your funny little lizard voices.”

“But Stevieeee,” Eddie whines. He leans down so he’s level with Steve’s ear, feels the other shiver as he breathes out before adopting one of his ‘funny little lizard voices’ “I wants it!!”

Caught off-guard, Steve breaks, laughing as he flips them. “You’re such a nerd.”

Maintaining his kobold voice and batting his lashes, “But Stevie, I’m your little lizard nerd.”

“Hmm and damned if that doesn’t make me the lucky one.”

And should the next time Eddie hosts another Sumpoe, he happens to find a perfectly packed lunch with tidbits of all his favorite snacks, well then Steve’s just not ready to accept that inheritance yet.

[lincolnlogsnfrogs]

more character design stuff for that project i'm working on :333

[chibishortdeath]

Hmmm I kinda want to make a side blog for RPG Maker game development related things to be able to talk to more experienced people in that community, but at the same time I both don’t really think I’d get much attention and don’t want to accidentally spoil my own game (^^ ; ).

I have a rough story, concept doodles, a tileset, some character sprites, an enemy that walks around but can’t initiate battle yet (if I even decide to have a battle system), a couple rooms with some events, and a functioning run button, but I’m still lost on how to do much else at the moment. Especially since this program has the ability for scripting, meaning I’ll probably have to learn and actually retain another coding language.

So, I’m not very far at all lol. Idk how well that’d go over on the established fandom website, but eh.

[sorenlionheart]

don't get me wrong, sonic is like my lifelong special interest and everything but my god writing fanfiction about it is so difficult i don't get how people do it???

[quatregats]

Current Situation would actually probably be solved if I stopped looking to Projects for all my satisfaction in life

[ukulelegodparent]

Apparently I'm feeling very strongly about language once again atm. Like just. I have to eat it. I have to let it wash over me and through me. I need to read good opinions on like. The connection between the heart and the soul and the language they are expressed and the language they developed and grew up in. Like. it is so intricate and so complicated and so personal and yet so simple and such a universal experience.

[arcaneyouth]

GO TO SLEEP KNUCKLEHEAD!!!!!! I didn't wanna spam the lovecore inbox BUT GO TO SLEEEEP!!!! You're cool and a swag and you deserve to sleep good ok??? Don't even WORRY about it dude ok? Fuhgettaboutit (said in the joking mobster voice)

Also CHUG THAT SHIT!!! You fucking LOVE the wawa! ANOTHER side note, if you have any cool crafts or creations you'd like to share please feel free to show me! Having time to yourself is always important, but I know sometimes people get this feeling of like ohhh but if I'm not SHOWING someone then it's useless (which it's not!) But I'm more than happy to look at them👍

Have a good day and REST. TAKE A REST!!!! you don't need to be perfect and push your limits just because you can gosh dang it!

I can't sleep yet it's only 8 pm!!! i don't go to sleep until like 3 am!!! Hell!!! I might go lay down tho I'm so fuckin tired LIUSHDAUSLdh

I haaave been debating promoting my comic on the lovecore blog. I've been working on this shit for 5 years and y'know if I can't make the polls the least I could do is provide SOME kind of content right? ...But the tumblr blog is kind of a mess and needs to be almost entirely reorganized if I want the comic to be even vaguely readable on here, and as you can probably guess, I don't have time for that rn IAUDHLUIh so I've just been staring at it hoping it'll organize itself.

But hey if you want to know the reason I can't make polls from like Wednesday to Saturday every week, it's cause I spend 70% of my free time those days working on pages for my comic. I am handing my life's work to you if you are interested. It's a fantasy webcomic about a high school in a world of wizards that's under the threat of a demon. I'm not good at pitching my story you just have to trust me when I say it's really fuckin good and the characters have a lot of depth and it's more complicated than it appears. The most convenient way to get up to speed is to read it on toyhouse. The most convenient way to stay up to date with it is to follow the tumblr @the-deathspeaker . I don't give a shit if you don't actually read it but you are the one who asked so I am providing <3

[sluttyten]

🥶

[mejomonster]

September 10, Aegis's birthday, and I finished my story's first draft!!!!!!!!!!!

The first original long story I managed to stick to and finish. Took a little over a year. WOOH

It ended at 103,965 words. Which was 20,000 more than I'd aimed for but thankfully way shorter than I was fearing the word count would climb.

I am collapsing now that this long term project's in a place where I can take a break, I'm going to do non project hobbies for a while like reading and games. I am so hype that I finished this draft. Past mejo would be so fucking over the moon I managed to write the story down, finallyyyyy

[yourbestdream]

yknow although my life HAS been going pretty well lately overall i am also possibly the most stressed i have ever been in my entire fucking life rn due to the sheer amount of Things i have to do

[seouljazzbar]

GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest. 

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to  buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry. 

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly  you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats. 

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. 

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…” 

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff  noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?” 

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.” 

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?” 

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”  

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet. 

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in. 

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.”  He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you. 

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded  pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing  into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains. 

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.” 

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed. 

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”