#I wrote two very short paragraphs

[likecanyoujustnot]

Writers after an exhausting day of doing anything but writing

[borrelia]

i really like the stuff i wrote before in this ficlet so i wanna share just this bit bc i remember being insistent on including this imagery but idk why. i like it tho. anyway. from a fleet fic. this bit's when he's staying with madge and arthur.

The first day he’d spent here—black and blurry in his memory, though it hadn’t yet been a week—she’d offered to draw him a bath after dinner. It had been so nice to settle in the warm water and soak, though he was unsure of what he was allowed and supposed to use to clean himself besides that. But the next night he couldn’t figure out how to keep the water from draining out of the tub and it felt like too much of an imposition to bother her to do it for him again. So he just settled for running the faucet for a while and splashing and scrubbing himself with the running water.

In the mornings he sat himself in the tub and scrubbed the burning water over his hands and face and quills, washing away the sweat and the fear that pursued him every night. He’d stare at his face in the mirror—holding himself up on the edge of the bathroom counter to be tall enough—and try to find something familiar in his own face. He’d stare at his strange bloodshot eyes and his crooked, jagged teeth and his bright golden quills and he’d wonder if anyone was looking for him. Wonder if stared hard enough if he could remember their name. Remember his own name.

[berriwritertingz]

follow me | e. landry

content: filthy smut, oral (fem receiving), kinda obsessive and dark ethan

pairing: ethan landry x afab!reader

summary: after everyone fell asleep, you and ethan ventured off to have your own fun

note: i literally wrote one paragraph of this and then dropped it but my ethan obsession is back after months

it was chad’s idea to have a big sleepover after finals. everyone’s worries and stress draining away with some drinking, music, and movies. the night started out strong with everyone in pajamas playing drinking games and having awful dance battles. but as the third movie dragged on, the talking stopped with the movie plot slowly growing uninteresting. the absence of conversation hinted at the reason, everyone had fell asleep. bodies scattered across the living room with chad's thunderous snores filling it. but as you looked over ethan's eyes met yours, wide awake and fixed upon you.

“i guess we’re the only ones awake” you smiled softly, standing up off the loveseat you two were sharing.

you two weren’t close at all. only speaking to each other when the group hung out and shared glances in shared classes. but you couldn’t lie when you said you had a small crush on ethan. his tall frame towering over you whenever he asked for a favor. soft whiny voice that made your face get warm whenever you heard it. pretty brown eyes that were always focused on yours when you talked. the same ones that were now so innocently trained on you.

“uh…yeah”

he was distracted to say the least. your nipples straining against your white tank top and tiny pink shorts riding up your squishy thighs. you stretched spreading your arms wide causing the shirt to hike up your soft belly. ethan couldn’t help but shift in his seat at the sight, a boner growing in his loose sweatpants. imagining what it was like to bury his head between them. he tried to look away but frankly he didn’t want to. he loved how squishy and smooth your thighs looked in the dim room light.

“do you want to come to my room? i have the new spider-man.” you suggest. hands placed on your hip and thumb pointing to your bedroom in the shared apartment. ethan didn’t hesitate, nodding eagerly and stood up slightly stumbling over the bodies littered around the room, following closely behind you.

-

ethan’s focus was completely on the game eyebrow’s furrowed and tongue slipping out the corner of his mouth. you stared at him in awe practically squealing at how cute he looked. both of you practically cuddling on your bed watching the tv screen as he expertly clicked buttons on the controller. you were sitting on the bed beside him leg perched over his while you watched him play the game. everyone knew you were a touchy person so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to casually have limbs wrapped around your friends. plus even if it was a problem ethan didn’t say anything about it.

“can you help me?” he asked peering over at you, noticing you staring. his cheeks a blaring red.

“yes, of course!” he had a problem with one of the missions not understanding the combos. you placed your hand on top of his showing him exactly what the controls were. ethan couldn’t focus on a word you were saying as your tits were pressed tightly on his arm. his mind wondered to how cushiony and moldable they would be in his hands. imagining leaving pretty marks on them that you would have to cover up.

you smelled a lot like sweet vanilla and it was addicting. he was obsessed. but he didn’t want to seem like a weirdo and sniff you. even though that’s all he wanted to do at this very moment. the boner in his pants grew again even though it never fully went down. but he couldn’t escape this time. as grabbing a pillow or shifting around would bring too much unwanted attention.

“you got it?” you ask softly sending shivers down his spine. he couldn’t do anything but nod as he feared he would unintentionally moan.

his hair tickled your face as he nodded causing you to notice how close you really were. they looked so enticing to touch and before you could think you reached your hand out. but decided against it, not knowing if he’d be comfortable with it or not.

“you can…touch me” he answered eyes still on the tv.

you grinned in excitement as you reached up to touch his hair. once the fluffy locks hit your hand you were in awe. they were soft and surprisingly smelt like strawberries. you reached your hand deeper into his hair massaging his scalp. ethan leaned into your touch groaning softly at the contact.

“mmh does that feel good sweetheart?”

ethan moaned in response pausing and setting down the controller. he loved the feeling of your acrylics running through his hair and scratching his scalp. he always has had a crush on you. he was quite literally obsessed with you. in ways he refused to admit. but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t stolen a few of your panties when you weren’t home. or purposely sat beside you during hangouts so he could learn your password to see private photos.

he relished in the feeling for a moment but he felt as if he was going to burst through his boxers. he turned and peered down at you, doe eyes hooded with lust. you were already looking at him feeling the tension rising. afraid that this could go too far and he wouldn’t feel the same way you did. you pulled your hand back but before you could get too far he swiftly caught it with his. eyes flickering from your rosy lips to your sultry eyes.

“ethan-“

before you could finish he had your lips in a deep kiss throwing the controller to the other side of the bed. his lips were soft and worked eagerly against yours. he then pushed you flush under him quickly moving in between your legs pressing his hard on to your core. wanting the kiss to be deeper you slipped your tongue in his mouth. he didn’t catch on right away but soon his tongue worked skillfully against yours. you whined gently as one of his hands was placed behind your head pulling you closer and the other trailing up your shirt.

your hands moved from around his neck to the hem of his shirt pulling it up eagerly. he obliged tossing it not really caring about where it went. when he looked back down at you he almost groaned at the sight. your lips pouty and swollen from kissing him, nipples now fully hard and on display to him through the thin fabric. legs wrapped across his waist practically rutting against him.

“oh fuck me…” he groaned practically ripping your shirt from your body.

you giggled softly at his eagerness but that was quickly replaced by soft moans as ethan kneaded your breast between his hand. placing small open mouth kisses on your neck sucking and biting the skin. he wanted to leave an obvious mark on you knowing a few classmates had a crush on you. he soon kissed his way down to your soft mounds suckling on your nipples harshly. your hands flew to his hair tugging it causing ethan to shudder under your touch. soft whimpers sending vibrations through your spine.

he stopped for a bit sliding his hand into your shorts. eyes mischievous and lustful with his hair wild from you playing in it.

“can i taste you y/n” you nodded shyly. the brown haired boy causing fires to ignite from the bottom of your stomach and thighs slick with arousal.

“please”

with this ethan pulled your shorts down with ease leaving you completely naked as he still had pants on. his hands roamed across your sides to your thighs dragging them teasingly. it made you feel exposed, your head shifting away from his avoiding eye contact.

“you’re so pretty” he complimented getting situated between your legs. he held you close with his hands on your thighs pulling you eagerly towards his mouth salivating at the site. you shuffled uncomfortably at his staring getting slightly embarrassed. but that washed away as he licked a long stride up your slit. it was unexpected and caused you to let out a loud moan.

you quickly covered your mouth remembering everyone was still only a hallway away. ethan chuckled slightly followed by him attaching himself back to your core. sucking your sensitive bud harshly. whining as your back arched into his mouth.

“ethan i can’t be quiet, we should-“ he cut you off again by kitty licking your core. you bit your lip hard, eyes screwed shut and your hands flew to his hair. his eyes rolled to the back of his hand causing a soft moan to escape from him.

“let them hear you.” he ordered, eyes looking up at you through hooded eyelashes. you sat up a bit meeting his eyes. the way he looked so innocent yet filthy made the fire in your stomach grow.

you tried your best to keep your moans soft but the feeling of his finger entering your heat caused your moans to go up an octave. you unsuccessfully pleading for ethan to slow down his movements on your sensitive bud. but he didn’t, noticing your movements against his tongue. fingers gripping his curls harder than before. he was in love with the way you tasted not wanting to break away. the feeling of inside of you making his head go hazy imagining what it would feel like to be his shaft instead.

you couldn’t hold back anymore. using a pillow to stuff your face in as ethan thrusted into you with an ungodly pace. telling you how good you taste and sound. you whined and whimpered repeatedly as he refused to let you go. tongue working eagerly to make you come.

“e- i’m gonna mmh i can’t”

before you could say anything else your orgasm washed over you. thighs shaking around his head. eyes forced to the back of your head and loud moans muffled by the pillow.

ethan finally slowed down letting you ride your orgasm out on his tongue. he kissed your abused clit gently earning a soft whine from you before connecting his lips to yours. tongue moving inside your mouth so you could taste yourself. you could feel his hard on through his sweatpants as your hands scratched his back.

he began to slide them off but was interrupted by loud knocking on the door.

“can you guys shut up? it’s 3 am!” mindy yelled from behind the door.

pt.2?

[vamphrrr]

Hi!! i loved your tough love fanfic of clarisse! so i decided to ask if you can make a clarisse la rue , (aphrodite child) reader, but she’s not some normal teenager… she’s a princess if you get what im saying??? lets say that aphrodite dated a princess and had a child with him before she left, and so that’s where reader grew up, no one knew that the reader was a princess u til she told clarisse, she was really worried clarisse was gonna hate her but clarisse is like “Woah me mad at you? no way” and clarisse supports her! (Including some kissing, flirting, it would be super nice if the reader was shorter the clarisse probably up to her chest like in the tough love fanfic!)

notes ; omgggg this is so cute!! i’m so glad u liked my last fic i was nervous about posting 😭. also i’ll be making clarisse call reader princess too now knowing SHE IS ONE! they’re already dating in this. i used the same banner bc i’m too lazy to create new ones based on plot LMAO. i wrote this so soon but sometimes if anyone requests it might take me a couple of days bc of school and stuff! think i went a little overboard with this one. i should probably start counting how much i write lol.

%% are you mad?

in which your super attractive girlfriend finds out the secret you’ve been hiding from her for so long. also, she accidentally meets your dad.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; reader has doubts, tall & buff clarisse / short reader (again), flirty!clarisse flirty!clarisse, a little angst?, kissing, two swear words, flustered reader (oh how the turned tables), ooc clarisse? (i’m never sure if i write her right), one suggestive thought in the first paragraph (nothing happened tho!). a little too much background i think… too much father, did my daddy issues come out? made reader’s dad a king bc plot reasons, maybe more emotional than requested srry😭

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Sneaking off from your girlfriend’s warm bed in the middle of the night. For a minute, you wondered how’d that look to anyone watching. A girl hastily running from a cabin that she very obviously did not belong in, a long shirt —it was Clarisse’s— accompanied by small shorts, (which were not visible might you add). Oh and how could you forget, you were barefoot. Who’s bright idea was that? Oh, yeah, yours. Why?

Gods were you cold. Should’ve brought a jacket, you thought.

The bottom of your feet hurt, stepping on rocks and sticks and who knows what else would do that to you. Next time, you would definitely bring hiking boots or something. And a jacket. In the forest, you were far away from anybody that might disturb you. Pulling Clarisse’s shirt up until your shorts were visible, you dug your hand inside the pocket, meeting with a drachma. You approached the round well, splashing water mist being met with sunlight from below, creating a rainbow.

How? It was the middle of the night. Why was the sun inside? You decided not to think about it.

This well was old, dirty from not being used much. See, not many people knew about it. Apparently, it was for those that needed to talk to somebody reallyyyy privately, that’s why it was hidden in the forest, only appearing at night. You weren’t sure how that worked, but you stumbled upon it a couple of years back when you were being chased by wood nymphs for being out at night. They found you, obviously. Punishment was not escapable and you ended up having to clean the stables the day after you got your nails done. Yuck.

Now here you were again, this being the only place where you could speak to your father without anyone finding you. It’s not that you were embarrassed of him per say, it was that you really didn’t want anyone to know that you were a royal. I mean, how ironic was that? A daughter of Aphrodite, a Princess? Forget it. You’d get made fun of for the rest of your life. You especially didn’t want Clarisse to know. She was your girlfriend yes, and this was something very important that you needed to tell her about, but you weren’t sure how’d she react. You knew she wouldn’t make fun of you like others would, but you didn’t know if dating a literal Princess was too much of a deal breaker for her.

Being with a royal was too stressful, there was so much that they’d get criticized for and so little people that they’d be accepted by. Your dad was a King with many past lovers, Aphrodite included. The people loved her, I mean, who wouldn’t? But then she was gone, disappearing the same night she gave birth to you. Your dad knew of her, of this. He knew she’d be gone by the time the sun rose. Yet, he did nothing. Who was he, than just a mortal man? He could not stop a goddess from leaving.

He got with others after that, your dad had a lot of love to give. Maybe that was something that attracted your mother to him. Public lovers were not taken well, the people respected the King, sure, they just didn’t respect his partners. Constant judging, constant eyes following their every move, constant hatred being thrown, constant stress on their shoulders. In the end, they could never take it. Running away or completely disappearing seemed to be something they all had in common. Your father had to give up on love, small secret romances blossomed for a while, but never enough for it to go public.

That is why you were so scared to tell Clarisse of your status. She was smart, she’d realize being with you would not be worth the hassle. She’d leave you just like everyone else left your father. Clarisse was the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be able to handle it if she left.

You threw the drachma in, calling for the rainbow goddess to let you see your father.

“Dad,” you said, once the back of his head was visible.

He jumped, turning around. “Oh! My dearest daughter, you scared me.” He laughed a bit, looking at you with such soft eyes it almost made you cry. “Why are you Iris messaging me at this hour? Isn’t it time for you to be resting?”

You swallowed, a sudden knot appearing in your throat. “I just needed someone to talk to.” Playing with the ring around your finger that Clarisse gave you for your one year anniversary, you choked out. “I have this amazing girlfriend, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me here at camp and—” You stopped talking, taking a small breath, not noticing the familiar figure of Clarisse standing a couple of feet behind you. “—and I’m scared to tell her that I’m not who she thinks I am. That I’m not this girl that just so happens to be a daughter of Aphrodite. I love her so much and I want to tell her about you. I want to bring her to you in person because I want the two people I love the most to meet. But how do I do that when I haven’t even told her I’m a Princess and that the only way you two could meet is if I took her to our royal palace?”

Your father widened his eyes, not expecting his little girl to burst out her feelings just like that. He sighed, glancing behind your shoulder. “If this girl you love so much really loves you like you do her, she wouldn’t care about your status.” Staring at who he assumed was your girlfriend behind you, he continued. “She wouldn’t care that you hid this from her. Instead, she’d try to see it from your point of view.” Moving his eyes away from Clarisse, he looked at you, eyes squinting in light mischief. “You should tell her, she’ll understand. I love you.” Is all he said, before he was gone.

You’re left staring at a rainbow, your dad nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a branch broke from behind you. Turning around quickly, heart beating rapidly, you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. You immediately let out a gasp, not knowing she was there.

Clarisse speaks up. “You’re a Princess?”

You felt your mouth dry up. With wide eyes, you respond. “Please don’t hate me! I didn’t know how to tell you!” Walking closer to her, you reached your hands out, grabbing one of her own with both of yours. “Please, you have to understand. I didn’t want this to ruin us.”

She stayed silent.

Silence was haunting, especially coming from Clarisse, someone who was always provoking people and boasting loudly everywhere. You gulped, with lips shaking you asked, “A-are you mad?”

She lets out a huff. Was something funny? Was she annoyed? Angry? Did she not care at all? Those were the questions running through your mind. You’d find out the answers soon enough.

“Woah,” she shook her head, letting you see the slight amused smile on her face. “Me? Mad at you? No fucking way.” She reached her free hand towards your face, moving away the strand of hair that fell slightly over your eye. “It just… surprised me s’ all.”

You let out a breath, relaxing and putting your head against her chest. “Thank the gods, I thought you were going to break up with me or something.”

Reaching out again, she placed her forefinger below your chin, raising your head to meet her eyes. “How could I ever break up with someone so beautiful?” She leaned down, your lips grazing against each other’s. “Why would I leave when I can now be your knight in shining armor?” Closing the distance, your eyes fluttered shut. Butterflies were in your stomach just like the first time you two ever kissed. Without your lips separating, she put one arm around your waist, the other grabbing below your thighs, hoisting you up.

“Ah!” you screamed, separating your lips, not expecting it.

Clarisse smirked, seeing you get flustered. “You don’t have any shoes on.” You pouted, putting your arms around her neck so you wouldn’t fall while she walked back (not that she would let you fall off in the first place). “Didn’t think I’d notice, did you, princess?” Teasingly, she used the pet name, now knowing how much truth was behind it.

You whined, pressing your face against her neck. “You’re so unfair. I’m supposed to be the one flustering you.”

“Awe, the princess is mad,” she cooed, letting her lips touch the tip of your ear. “You want me to get on one knee and apologize?”

Clarisse laughed when you let out a loud groan, hitting her lightly on the chest. Smiling, she knew the only way she’d ever leave you was if she was six feet under. And even then, she’d find a way to get back to the land of the living just to be by your side.

The only things heard in the dead of night were the grasshoppers, chirping their little melodies into the darkness. That was until you muttered sleepily, letting out a yawn. “I love you.”

Clarisse repeated after you. “I love you.” Feeling your eyes fluttered close, she followed it with an almost silent “goodnight.”

Now that you were asleep, she felt panic slowly rise, steps quickening to reach the Ares cabin faster. She could only think about two things now.

Holy shit, she’s a Princess. Oh my gods, I met her dad.

[toast-the-unknowing]

on fanfic plagiarism

Almost five years ago, in January of 2019, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "Word on the Street," had been plagiarized.

I remember that the stolen fic was posted in k-pop fandom, though not what specific band it related to -- I'm not into k-pop, or really into pop music at all.

I remember that the person who messaged me told me that they had found my fic because the plagiarist had a reputation for stealing fic, so when they'd posted a new story, this person had known to do some digging.

I don't remember what the plagiarist's username was. I remember scanning the stolen story, trying both to read every detail and to avoiding taking any of it in, because looking at that right-but-wrong, not-quite-there, uncanny-valley-ness of it made me queasy.

I remember being darkly amused that the plagiarist had cut out the reference to the main character suffering physical abuse at the hands of his father -- I guess it didn't make sense in the context of the new character. It's almost like the story wasn't written for him. It's almost like someone wrote the story about Adam Parrish, instead.

I filed an AO3 complaint, on the grounds that this was a blatant and unarguable violation of their plagiarism policy. Within twenty-four hours, they got back to me, and the story was removed.

It was a weird, uncomfortable, gross feeling, knowing someone had taken words I'd written and passed them off as their own.

But at the same time -- "Word on the Street" was a silly thing I dashed off pretty quickly, during a period of my life when I was doing a lot of writing. It hurt to have it stolen. It was a violation. But…I had other words, that were more important to me. Maybe that was a buffer.

-

Last month, about six weeks ago, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "there's talk going 'round this town," had been plagiarized.

I was, bizarrely, amused.

I was less bizarrely furious. I was understandably, relatably, I would say rationally, furious. But in a way (and as always, when I say in a way, I am calling back to the scholars of overthinkingit.com for whom in a way is meant as the thing I have just said or am about to say is false) -- in a way, I was amused.

The plagiarist clearly did a 'find and replace' on the character names, to replace Adam and Ronan's names with those of k-pop characters. They did a bad job of it, since the name "Ronan" still appears in one paragraph and the name "Parrish" still appears in two paragraphs. The fic is here, in case anyone doesn't believe me, under the name "i do(n't remember)". At first when I complained about the fic on tumblr, I didn't mention the name, or which fic they'd stolen, because I was worried about anyone…I don't know, making a scene. I've stopped caring. AO3 user springguk is bad at find and replace and they should feel bad. About their computer skills, and also about their blatant plagiarism.

springguk also did some more edits to my fic, I have to give them credit for that. I wrote "there's talk going 'round this town" within a relatively short time span, for me. I tend to either finish things within one week, or else take several months. I believe this one took about five or six weeks completely to write -- I was very inspired.

(I was inspired, specifically, by the press coverage of Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves 'discovering' they might be 'accidentally' married. I mention that in my author's notes. springguk doesn't mention what 'inspired' them in their author's notes. I wonder how they talk about it with friends. They do, in their author's notes, include a link to their ko-fi, and a request that people buy them a coffee.)

If I'd taken longer with this fic, I might have made some edits. Even at the time, I knew I was being self-indulgent in letting the scene with my teenage female OC talk at such length with Ronan about what his non-canonical film career had meant to her, a person the audience didn't care about. But I had fun. I liked Fox. I didn't want to cut her, and what the hell, it was fanfic. I decided to self-indulge.

I was darkly amused to find that springguk did cut out the scene with Fox from their plagiarized version. Maybe springguk is a more disciplined editor than I am. Maybe springguk just didn't have a good k-pop character to map Fox onto. Maybe springguk didn't even realize that Fox was an OC. Do you know anything about the fandom you steal fics from, springguk? I can't help but wonder. Have you read The Raven Cycle? Do you care about teenage OCs who steal cars because of fake films that are clearly meant to be stand-ins for The Fast and the Furious franchise?

Maybe springguk just didn't give a fuck, because none of their heart and soul was poured into this fic. I cared too much about Fox. springguk doesn't care about a single word in the fic they published. Why would they? They didn't write it.

I'm being a little mean in naming them so many times. But I'm able to, this time, because although I filed a plagiarism complaint with AO3 six weeks ago, springguk's stolen fic "i do(n't remember)," is still available to read on AO3 to this very day. I don't have to wrack my brains to remember what their username was, or which k-pop band they recast my work with. I can just look at their fic with its 24 comments and 151 kudos. Hell, maybe that fic is even better than mine, if you don't mind that by cutting the sequence with Fox they've sacrificed a fairly substantial development in the romantic relationship, and also if you don't care that at one point the characters names switch from Jeongguk and Taehyung to Ronan and Parrish, because seriously, for fuck's sake, if you're going to steal a fic at least do a goddamn ctrl+f at the end.

I was mad. I was amused. I made a complaint that the AO3, six weeks later, has still not acted on. I mostly moved on.

-

Tonight, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now," had been plagiarized.

I wanted to vomit.

I was supposed to be playing Dungeons and Dragons online with friends tonight; I spent the entire call unable to focus on anything anyone was saying. I had to keep reminding myself that I was on camera and my face wasn't supposed to look like that.

"while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now" is the first of a series of, currently, twelve fics. skytoseungmin, the person who stole it to pass it off as their own work, knew this. Their stolen version was published as part one of a series, though they hadn't published any of the sequels. Presumably, they wanted to wait long enough to make it plausible they'd gone and written the follow ups, instead of just finding them.

skytoseungmin likely didn't know that this fic and this series are intensely personal. They didn't know that the apartment that Adam -- Seungmin, in their ill-gotten version -- lives in, that was based in part off of the apartment I lived in for a year in Pico-Robertson with talldecafcappuccino. They didn't know that the 7-Eleven Adam buys coffee at is the same one I used to tease talldecafcappuccino for buying coffee at. They didn't know that the strip club where Adam and Ronan have their humorously ill-timed romantic revelation outside of, that was the strip club I used to use as a landmark when giving people directions for how to navigate the confusing as fuck freeway exit I lived near, which once caused me to accidentally tell my highly Catholic parents "just go past the strip club and you're good!"

skytoseungmin didn't know that the apartment Adam -- sorry, Seungmin, thoroughly, they were better with find and replace than springguk -- lived in, was also based off of my ex's apartment in Palms, where I as the mere visiting girlfriend was never allowed to park in the parking lot. Where I would sometimes have to spend twenty or thirty minutes circling the neighborhood before I could find parking, often a walk of several minutes away. skytoseungmin doesn't know that when Ronan's car get towed from a McDonald's parking lot, that that was a specific McDonald's on Venice Boulevards, the same one my ex's asshole roommate used to just roll his eyes and say that I should park at. skytoseungmin doesn't know that I once wished passionately that I had just parked in that McDonald's parking lot and risked getting towed, on the occasion that a man followed me several unlit blocks from my car. skytoseungmin doesn't know that when I talk about how helping someone park is the truest love language there is in Los Angeles, that that was what I meant. Has skytoseungmin ever had to circle to half an hour to find parking in Los Angeles? Has skytoseungmin ever loved someone enough to do that, instead of saying, fuck it, they can come to me or we're breaking up? Has skytoseungmin ever loved someone in Los Angeles enough, to do as my ex did, and come running as fast as humanly possibly when their girlfriend called them whispering and crying on the phone, someone's following me, please, I'm scared, I wish I just parked at the McDonald's?

"while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now" is a very personal fic.

It isn't half as personal as some of the fics that come after.

skytoseungmin marked their plagiarized version of the fic as part one of a series. Were they planning on stealing part two, where I, through an alternate universe characterization of Ronan Lynch, dig into my experience of grief and trauma surrounding my grandmother's dementia? Were they planning on stealing any of the explicit fics, where I play with kink and desire in ways I haven't even exposed to my actual sexual partners, but where I felt able to through the guise of fandom? What else was skytoseungmin planning on stealing, with charming little author's notes apologizing for how they missed the fandom-relevant date they were shooting for, because they were so busy with exams, tee-hee! Why the excuses, skytoseungmin? how long does it take you to ctrl+f, even if you are more thorough about it than springguk?

If I seem too accusatory and mean-spirited toward skytoseungmin, well, the LA verse is a very personal fic.

And it's also, it turns out, only one of eight different fics that they stole from me.

I didn't even notice at first, to be honest. I was too stunned. But my friend Jessie, my Lady Galahad, went to my defense and clicked through to the author's page, while I was still reeling at the horrible possibilities of part one of a series. It turned out, of eight fics on skytoseungmin's author's page…I had written every single one of them.

Some were short and pretty lighthearted, things I hadn't had to invest too much of myself into -- like I said, sometimes, I can write a fic in under a week.

Other things…

They stole the space western AU.

I don't think I can articulate to any human being how much that hurt me, to look at it, to see.

I wrote that as a thank you gift for someone who donated to Fandom Trumps Hate.

I spent nearly two years of my life on it -- two years during which, because of mental health issues and life situation changes, my words per year dropped precipitously. I still haven't recovered. I still think of what a failure I am for not writing more, currently, actively, and I remember how the space western AU was both a symptom of that and a defiance of it: yes, writing has become fucking hard, fucking NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE, but I'm still doing it, goddamn it, you can't stop me, even if all I produce is the tiniest trickle of words a month. it can still add up, somehow, if we just keep TRYING.

To see the space western AU, casually nestled amongst a half dozen other fics that were all apparently casually dashed off in the same month…I know it was theft, I know it was a lie, but it still felt like a slap in the face, why can't you write this fast?

Jessie, my Lady Galahad, went on a campaign of commenting on all of skytoseungmin's (my) fics, and I am so thankful. The k-pop fans who heard Jessie have been reaching out, to her, to me, to each other on Twitter, and I am so thankful for them too. skytoseungmin has deleted all of their (my) fics on AO3, and their entire AO3 account, and their entire twitter, apparently. Maybe they were hoping to get enough clicks to parlay them into some kind of book deal, and they'd now rather give up what was a low investment effort on their part than be associated with accusation of plagiarism.

I suppose they can always start over with a new user name and someone else's fics if they really want to.

I suppose they can always start over with a new username and my fics, if they really want to.

And after all, AO3 has still not reached out to me about springguk, and "i do(n't remember)" is still sitting there. Maybe springguk is also going for a book deal. Who knows?

Why complain about any of it?

In a way* (and remember what "in a way" means), isn't it a compliment, if someone loves the words I wrote, even if they don't know it was me that wrote them? toast-the-unknowing and shinealightonme, if they're the same name (and they are), then why not springguk or skytoseungmin, too?

Am I making too big of a deal out of this? Does everyone just have their work stolen from them, all of the time? Is that simply the cost of doing business in an era and an ecosystem where we all can copy and paste twenty-four thousand words with greater ease than our ancestors could transcribe a single phrase? Are more prolific, more famous, more successful fan authors looking at my piteous cries and thinking, bitch, you've only been ripped off by k-pop fans ten times, come back when you have real problems?

And yet in a month, a year, a whole life phase of not being able to write as much as I would like to, because of my health, because of my work, to have someone else just casually pass off the words I have managed to eke out, as though they have no value, as though it were no more than photo copying a shitty flier to stick under a windshield wiper…

I can't imagine springguk or skytoseungmin give a shit how I feel about any of this. At best, they roll their eyes; at worst they laugh to know they hurt me -- and what's the difference between the two? I'll never know either way.

I know that some of the people they duped do care, and are also upset. That helps. And also, it doesn't help.

I just fucking hate all of this, and if all I have are words, and if my words are valuable enough for someone to steal, then here, here are enough of them to choke on. I know I did.

[iaeriy]

blue birthday (pedri x reader)

warnings- alcohol, smut, cursing, jealousy, spanish translated sentences, degrading kink and lastly smut.

a/n- got a little too out of hand, i wrote a lot so if theres any mistakes am sorry i was too tired last night but enjoy :”)

“can’t believe my baby is finally turning 20..” pedri said as he wrapped his arms around you, standing behind you pecking ur neck as you were fixing your hair.

you just turned 20 and a few of your friends including your boyfriends wanted to go out to a club to celebrate your birthday.

you hummed as you felt your boyfriend kissing on your neck, you turned around to look up at him as you got on your tippy toes. cupping his cheeks you kissed him passionately, as he put his massive hand on the side of your ass, kissing you back.

you giggled in between the kiss as he started to play with your ass before you pulled away, “go get dressed.. they want us there at 7, & we slept in 5:55..” you said whispering as he rolled his eyes, slapping your ass before he walked out.

you blushed heavily as you continued to straighten your hair, last night was one of your best nights.. since you and pedri had sex, just a few hours before it turned midnight as he fucked you on the very beginning day of your birthday.

you weren’t as sore, good thing was you could still walk and not stumble around. you finished doing your hair as you replied to messages from your friends including your family sending you ‘happy birthday!’ messages and lots & lots of paragraphs.

you walked to the closet as you grabbed your sleeveless dress, you got out of your pjs and put the dress on. it was tight but not as tight on you, the good part was it looked amazing on you. the bad part was well.. you decided not to wear a bra.

you put your white heels on, it’s been awhile since you’ve worn heels, suddenly the door swung open as you saw pedri, his eyes widened as he saw you in the short dress.

“dios mío.. te ves muy hermosa..” (my god, you look so gorgeous.) you heard him mumble in spanish as you blushed, you were currently bending down tieing your strappy heels.

suddenly a smack went to your ass, you flinched and bit down on your lip.

“what was that for..” you said tying on your heels as he chuckled, “nothing princesa.. your ass is so big.” he said as he was rubbing your butt, you stood up and smacked his hand off.

“nice try.. we already did it last night.. you can be patient, righttt?” you said giggling as you kissed his cheek, going to the mirror to start doing your makeup.

you saw a pouty pedri sitting on the edge of the tub, he was wearing a pair of black jeans with a white shirt and a jacket. you finished and you got your white chanel bag.

“okay, lets go now.” pedri held your hand as the two of you went downstairs, you two walked to his vehicle as you sat on the passenger seat.

throughout the car drive pedri was being touchy with you, his hand was in your dress rubbing your inner thigh. the two of you talked and talked.

“why is the club fucking 30 minutes away from here, they’re crazy thinking it’s going to be worth it.” pedri said shaking his head as he rolled his eyes.

you giggled as you placed your hand on his clothed crotch, “it will, least you’ll have gavi and there with you.” he nodded his head, eyes widened as you moved your hand away giggling.

“you’re a tease. you know that y/n.” he said squeezing your inner thigh, you shuddered at the sudden move as you giggled.

“deal with it, you started it first since the moment you saw me in the dress.” you said as you put his hand on your boob squeezing it lightly as you moaned, you giggled before moving his hand away.

pedri was being all touchy with you but you avoided his hand away from your body, you saw him already getting frustated just by his frown, you snickered as he turned to look at you.

“what?” you said looking at him as he rolled his eyes focusing back on the drive-way, you giggled as you held his hand.

“i promise i’ll let you do it again later on baby.. you just have to be patient..” you cooed as he looked at you, his dark brown eyes drove you crazy. he pouted as you kissed his pout giggling.

he parked the car into the parking lot as he got out the car and went to your side opening the door, he held ur hand as the two of you held hands walking in.

you saw your friends already with your gifts and already waiting for you, you saw gavi with his sister valeria.

you and valeria knew each other way back in highschool, from there you knew gavi and that’s how you met pedri.

you saw pedri and gavi go to the table and you and your friends were at the bar, the 4 of you were drinking on lemon lime shots.

your friend carla then hugged you tightly, she was already knocked out on the tequila she had, “happy birthday y/nnn, you’re still the baby of the friend group!” she said as you bursted out laughing watching gavi frown.

you saw your two other friends go to the dance floor, now it was just you and valeria. the two of you were sitting next to each other sipping on your margaritas, you were already feeling tipsy since the alcohol had hit you.

“has your brother asked carla out yet??” you said as the two of you were laughing, carla shook her head, “no he hasn’t at all! he talks a lot about her tho.” she said sipping on her drink, “i’d say we go get carla to dance with him, should we??” that’s when valerias eyes shot up and nodded her head, you two kept drinking your drinks.

it tasted good but the alcohol started hitting you, “i’ll go get her. i’ll be backkkk” you were all tipsy and you stumbled to the dance floor, “come on, i have somebody to introduce you!” you held carlas hand as the two of you stumbled to the table were gavi and pedri were sitting at, “carla, you’ve met gavi before rightttt..” you said giggling as pedri was glaring at you, carla sat next to gavi and well.

gavi was enjoying this day for sure, but on the other hand there was a furious pedri, you took your other friend stephanie to go dance and you stumbled with her to the dance floor.

“valeria how many drinks did y/n have?” pedri said putting his phone down as he put it in his girlfriends purse, “what did you say i can’t hear you because of the music?” the girl shouted as he spoke again “how many drinks did y/n have..” he said looking at you through the dance floor, “puta madre..” he whispered as he saw you grinding on some random ass boy and on your friend, stephanie.

“i’m not sure how much she had, she drank about 5 drinks… but now would be the best time to go get her before she gets even crazy..” valeria said sipping on the water that her brother brought her, that’s when pedri stood up and walked over to you.

you felt so hot and uncomfortable from all the people around you when suddenly you felt a grip on your waist, “hey! what the fuck!” you shouted and you turned to look at pedri as he pushed you away from the dance floor, “we’re going home right this moment.” you shook your head slapping his arm, “you’re not the boss of me! let of me!” you said whinning as he glared at you.

you swallowed nervously as you saw his gaze, knowing you fucked up, knowing what god knows he’s going to do to you once the two of you get back home, you stumbled back to the table as you held onto the table grabbing ur purse, “thank you for the gifts, i’ll see you guys soon!” you said hugging valeria and gavi.

—

you were glad that you had this happen, all thanks to valeria and gavi. they both thought of this and you agreed with it. you were pissed because of how pedri didn’t let you have as much fun.

the drive back home was very quiet, no music, no nothing. “thanks for ruining my fun.” you mumbled looking out the window as he turned to look at you, “fun? you were grinding on a man, you were all out after the alcohol you drank.” he spoke as you saw his grip on the steering wheel, you swallowed again as you rubbed your thighs together, sure sometimes it was disappointing to have ur day almost ruined but when it comes to an angry pedri. it turned you on.

“whatever you say short cock..” you mumbled as he quickly turned his head to look at you, “we’ll see about that then..” he said as he spanked your inner thigh as a whimper escaped from your mouth.

you looked out the window as you were 50/50, you werent but were tipsy.

pedri parked his vehicle in front of his house as you got out the car, you opened the door stumbling into the house quickly, you tried running upstairs but that was until pedri closed the door as silent he could before yanking you towards him by your arm.

“where do you think you’re going? we’re just getting started hermosa..” he said whispering into your eyes sending shivers down your spine, he grabbed you by the arm again as he spun you around.

you were facing him now as you yelped feeling him grab you by your legs throwing you on his back, you were squirming and kicking your legs around begging to be put down. “put me down! i wanna walk!” you shouted slapping his back many times.

as you kept slapping his back he pulled your dress up to your panties as he spanked your ass, “don’t you dare.” he said as he got to the room and threw you on the bed.

you giggled as he pulled you closer to him, he kissed you deeply as you kissed back cupping his cheeks, he pinned your hands above your head, as you whined into his mouth.

you were now fully naked under him after a bunch of smacks to your breasts and hickeys all covered on your chest and neck. he flipped you over, as you were currently on your stomach, “is this what you wanted to come home to? your boyfriend punishing you for dancing with other boys.” a smack landed on your ass as you flinched and whimpered, “n-no..” you whispered as he spanked you harder on the same spot, “can’t hear you.” he said squeezing your ass cheek as you moaned “n-no! i-i’m sorry!” you said whinning as you felt your wetness leak to your inner thighs, “look at you hermosa.. already wet just for me..” he said whispering as he pulled you up.

you were now on doggy style with your ass up in the air as you felt him grind himself against you, you moaned as you whined, “p-please! i-i want you so bad..” you said grinding your ass against his clothed dick.

“so pathetic, such a little whore begging for my cock to be all in you.” he whispered in your ear as he slid his index and middle finger inside of you, you moaned softly as he lifted you, your back against his chest.

he pumped his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, you were moaning at the feeling consuming you. you shut your eyes closed as you leaned your head back, moaning uncontrollably.

“you’re so tight around my fingers.. already enjoying yourself and we’re just getting started.” he said as you tried speaking but got shut by him slamming his fingers in you again, pumping in and out of you quicker as you moaned louder grinding yourself against his fingers. your vision going blurry, you saw stars within every thrust he did.

“i n-need you so b-bad! please..” you said in between your moans clawing onto his thighs, you felt your climax near, “i-im im gonna..” he removed his fingers pushing you down, “f-fuck you..” you said into the bedsheets as he spanked you hearing your muffled words.

smack after smack after smack he kept spanking you as you enjoyed it and your ass getting redder & sensitive at each smack. he turned you around to face him as he chuckled, “look at you, all desperate and needy for my cock.” he said as he pulled his boxers down, you stared at his veiny, heavy, red dick. you swallowed as you crawled to him you went on your stomach as he nodded his head letting you suck him off.

you grabbed his dick as you stroke him slowly before he grabbed a fistful of your hair, “better make me proud, slut.” he said as he spanked your ass harshly before he shoved his dick into your mouth, you choked a bit.

you began to bobble your head slowly as you looked up at pedri, his head all leaned back as he held onto your hair, you swirled your tongue around his dick while stroking him as you heard him groan at your movements.

you were getting wetter at his sounds, you tried to touch yourself before he looked down at you slapping your hands off, “sluts like you shouldn’t touch themselves, keep thinking of all the dirty things you want.” he said chuckling as he reached to spank you playing with your ass, as his dick hit the back of your throat.

pedri groaned loudly as you sped up with your head movements, fondling with his heavy balls, you were tearing up due to how heavy he was to take in. that was until he grabbed a fistful of your hair thrusting into your mouth.

your eyes were filled with tears as you were so desperate for him to already be in you, you clawed onto his hips as you dug your nails into his thighs. “such a whore for me, look at you already tearing up when i haven’t even put my dick in you. bet your cunt is crying for me to be deep inside of you.. thinking dirty thoughts like the slut you are.” he said as he spanked you one more time before pulling his dick out your mouth, as a string of saliva seperated from your mouth.

pedri laid you down as you looked at him and his dick, his v line, his messy hair, his red cheeks, his dark brown eyes all that drove you crazy. he chuckled as he saw your face messed up from the mascara you had and your hair all messy. that was until he slammed himself into you without a warning, “f-fuck pedri!” you moaned loudly as you gripped onto his arm, “you’re not calling me by my name tonight at all. you’re going to obey and think about who you only belong to mí vída.” your hands were then pinned pinned above your head as he slapped your breast, you squirmed around before pedri leaned into your ear whispering, “te prometo que después de esta puta noche no olvidarás a quién perteneces y quién te folla tan bien.” (i promise you after this fucking night you won’t forget who you belong to and who fucks you this good.)

—

that all happened about 30 minutes ago or an hour so. you couldn’t remember anything that had happened after since your brain was in another state of mind.

you were now in doggy style as he kept ramming himself in and out of you. after 3 positions had gone by. “Joder.. te sientes tan bien después de 3 rondas, eres una chica tan buena tomando mi polla tan jodidamente dentro de tí..”(fuck.. you feel so good after 3 rounds, you are such a good girl taking my dick so fucking deep inside you.) he said whispering into your ears while groaning, you on the other hand were gripping onto the duvet crying from all the pleasure, you tried speaking throughout each thrust but you’d only recieve a thrust harder than his usual ones.

his hands were grasped around your hips, fucking you deep from behind, your ass all red & sensitive from the spanking, one of his leg up to reach deep into you as he continues to pound into you, you were both panting and sweating.

skin slapping, juices from his cum being stuffed inside of you and your pussy wet, moans and groans were filling the room, even the sounds of the bed ramming against the wall.

your face was all burried into the bed, you were clawing onto the sheets as he held onto your ass, not until he began pounding into you quicker. you were moaning loudly and breathlessly, you loved it but didn’t at the same time. “pe-papi.. i c-cant.. i-it’s too m-much..” you moaned out as you struggled but you earned a smack on your ass, you cried out a moan tearing up, your clit all sensitive after you weren’t allowed to cum.

he kept pounding faster inside of you as you felt him twitch, you decided to move against him as you did the work. you closed your eyes enjoying the pleasure, “m-mmmh! don’t s-stop!..” you said as he pushed you up, your back hit his sweaty chest as he gripped onto your hips tightly, chuckling into your ear, “you were just complaining.. look at you now..” he said playing with your breasts as you rolled your eyes to the back of your head feeling his tip hit your cervix, you screamed out.

“c-cum again.. please! i w-want more..” you said as he rubbed your clit gently, “yeah, you love this? taking my cock as the whore you are.” he said into your ear as you nodded your head quickly, you earned a harsh smack on your ass, “use your mouth, baby.”

pedri said as he his thrusts got sloppy, which drove you crazy, the wet sounds hitting against your ass, his balls slapping your drained pussy. “i-i love it! i love it! i want m-more! fuck!” you said as he rubbed your clit faster, he was already cumming inside of you for the 3rd time and you were already leaking from the inside.

his grip released you as you fell onto the bed, breathing heavily and shaking from the intense pleasure. “mi amor.. tovia no acabamos.” (my love, we’re not done yet.) he cooed into your ear as you widened your eyes, as he laid down on the bed and you sat up looking at his dick.

“look at you.. all weak after back talking.. come here hermosa.” he said patting his thighs as you wiped the drool from your mouth.

you crawled to him as you hovered above him, lining yourself ontop of his cock as you slid yourself in. you moaned at the feeling as you began to rock your hips back and forth against his dick. you rested your hands on his chest as he held onto your breast.

he was groaning at the way you moved and grinded against him, he held onto your hips as he started to move you quicker, you began moaning uncontrollably as you held onto your breasts, leaning your head back enjoying the warmth inside of you. “s-slow down.. you don’t have to r-rush anything..” you moaned out as he smirked slapping your ass.

you moaned at the slap as you looked down at him before you pushed his hands off you, resting your hands on his chest as you began to bounce quickly up and down against his dick. “¡joder! te sientes tan jodidamente bien..” (fuck, you feel so fucking good.) pedri said as he sat up looking at the way your tits bounced, you held onto his shoulders as you moaned loudly non-stop not caring who heard and saw from the window with the curtains opened.

you were starting to see stars as you continued while your eyes were rolled back, you were mumbling and babblering nonsense dirty things, you couldnt even form a sentence due to how sensitive your insides were but you wanted more and more. pedri chuckled as he looked at you, “so fucking gorgeous..” he said as you rested your head on his shoulder not moving anymore, your brain was all fussy and you felt full, you were drooling on his shoulder, you were all red and sweaty. your hair was a mess from the tugging and pulling.

“bebé.. we’re not done.. you still have to cum and so do i..” he cooed as you lifted your head up, you looked at him as he kissed you grabbing onto your hips moving you quicker than you were. you moaned into his mouth struggling to kiss back, you wrapped your arms around his neck scratching his back as your nails digged into his back. “l-lay me down.. do whatever y-you want n-now.. please daddy..” you said as he pushed you down.

you were currently laying on your back against the pillows, you saw pedri line himself as he inserted himself in starting to thrust quickly into you. you let out a loud moan as he picked your legs up resting them on your shoulders, he held onto your hips as you were a moaning mess underneath him.

pedri looked down at you, messy hair, red face, your blowned out eyes and red lips made him thrust even quicker into you, “shit.. such a good girl i’d fuck you everyday if i could..” he whispers as you moaned uncontrollably, your eyes rolled back as you wanted more, “papi.. please.. i-i want more!” you whined slapping his arm, he nodded his head as he smirked at you, “only for you birthday girl..” he said before grabbing onto your hips tighter as he slammed himself roughly into you thrusting into you.

you began moaning loudly as crazy, you gripped the sheets as you leaned your head back while your back was arched, “p-pedri! right th-there!” you screamed out not caring if he got taunted at you saying his name after you got told not to.

he found your g-spot you started tearing up at the pleasure as the knot in your stomach began to form, you shut your legs as you whimpered loudly enjoying the warmth.

pedri began twitching as you knew he was near, “h-harder!” you said in between your moans as you felt him ram himself harder, gripping even tighter as you moaned out even louder. the bed hit the wall harder as he straddled onto your body, his balls hitting your soaked clit as you started seeing stars, he began rubbing your clit as you cried out “mmm! d-don’t stop!” you were shaking like crazy underneath him.

after his thrusts were getting sloppier you were close, you were in heaven from all this pleasure as you kept moaning uncontrollably. “cum for me baby.” pedri said as you did so as you felt his warmness fill up in you, he dropped himself on your chest as the two of you were panting.

a few minutes went by and you were still shaking and trying to catch your breath, tho the boy had already calmed down until you decided to speak.

“pedri.. i-i’m sorry for earlier.” you said as you cupped his cheeks looking into his eyes as he chuckled kissing your cheek, “it’s okay hermosa..” he said pecking your forehead as you smiled. “thank you for this unforgettable night too..” you said resting your head on his chest as you were starting to doze off.

“hope you enjoyed your both presents from me.. goodnight birthday girl..” he said whispering as he kissed your cheek falling asleep while hugging you.

[rabbitblackx]

Hello, can i request a headcanon with Slenderman, Eyeless Jack, Toby, and Jeff The Killer reacting to a reader who is a famous horror writer that's writting books based off of them? And how they interact with them?

Reader writes novels based off Creepypastas

Includes: Slender Man, Toby Rogers, Eyeless Jack and Jeff The Killer

Slender Man💖

The more people knew about Slender Man, the more he could feed off their fear. He was a sickness that infected anyone that got two close. It affected Tim, Toby, Brian,,, you. When he found out you were writing a novel based off him, it was nothing more than a delight, really. Poor little you. You had no idea what you were doing. It also reminded Slender why he kept you alive for so long. You were his little messenger. He loved you because you were to spread the word. You were to unknowingly spread his sickness across the whole world.

Toby Rogers💖

Toby felt honoured that you were writing a novel based off him. He gained somewhat of a schoolboy crush on you after you told him. He sat on your bed as you typed away, randomly blurting out things about himself. Toby peered over your shoulder, his messy hair tickling your cheek as he babbled on. He soon came to the idea of making your story into a graphic novel. You humoured this idea and suggested he be the artist. Toby pulled himself away from you and dashed out of the room, coming back with his own notebook and various pencils. He laid on his belly on your floor, sketching away panels and scenes about himself. He was quite fond of you, and changed the script a little to include your pretty self in his comic too.

Eyeless Jack💖

Jack entered your room to check up on you, only to find you absent. He was about to look for you elsewhere within the large manor, but something caught his eyeless gaze. Your computer was still lit up, with some of your writing displayed on the screen. Jack enjoyed your writing, and couldn’t help but have a peek at the draft. He didn’t believe it when he realised you were writing a novel based off him. Jack kept reading your work, invested in the way you so beautifully wrote him. He sometimes forgot he even had one, but his heart seriously skipped a beat. His tender moment was cut short though, when you noisily bursted through the door. You gasped, squealing in embarrassment when you realised he was reading your story about him. Jack told you he loved it, and couldn’t wait to read the final product. You were relieved he was cool with it, and wrapped your arms around him while telling him how beautiful he was.

Jeff The Killer💖

Oh, you were writing a novel based off him? Well, duh! Of course you were! Expect a lot of constructive criticism. Jeff was in your room annoying you all hours of the night, reading your writing over your shoulder. He told you what he should do next, and what he should say. Most of the time his lines were very corny or silly, making you giggle. He laid on your bed next to you as you typed away on your laptop. Jeff could tell you were focused so he made meaningless smalltalk, fiddling with his knife. He poked the side of your thigh with it a few times, trying to get a reaction out of you. You passively told him to stop, shoving your laptop towards him to read your most recent paragraph on him. Jeff surprisingly really liked it. He thought your writing was so badass.

[lennadanvers]

oh my gosh, your writing is so great -- thank you for sharing! if you're taking requests, would you consider something featuring simon and a christian reader? (honestly, i'm really glad that there's a longfic writer in the fandom who doesn't focus on nsfw scenarios. the 'delirium' section in your masterlist is a really cute addition that i personally haven't seen before, and i'm older than you are. haha sorry for rambling, thanks again! <3)

Hi! I’m glad you enjoy my work!

I'm gonna be honest; I wrote a whole paragraph about nsfw-centered fics and what I think about them, and ended up deleting it bc it wasn't the point at all. It's too easy for me to start rambling sometimes. In short, I'm not in the mood to read nsfw sometimes, and I wish there were more sfw fanfics, so that's what I usually write.

Let me warn you, I’m not an expert in any religion, so there can be mistakes here (and this is kinda (very) nonspecific). I did my best though. Also, sorry it took me so fucking long. Hope you like it!

Mercy

Ghost doesn’t believe in your God.

Maybe Simon once did. He’s not sure. How could he, after everything he’s gone through? If he had any faith inside him, it should have survived. If a God like that existed, they should have helped him.

But there’s no faith left in him, and he hasn’t been helped by any God.

He knows only one pair of hands that are holy. Only one forgiveness he’d spend this life- and any other- seeking. Only one name he mutters before falling asleep. There is only one place he goes to every Sunday, and one face he wants to see when he dies.

Yours.

Maybe he does believe in god -he believes in you, after all.

He’s seen you pray. You close your eyes, sometimes move your mouth without talking, the words taking possession of your lips. It’s the same when he mouths “I love you” under the mask, in the shadows. He thinks your God hears you the same way you hear him: you don’t, but you know.

He's noticed how you pat the cross hanging around your chest when you need support. When Ghost is about to jump into a storm of bullets, when Johnny is messing with a suspicious wire, when he’s only got one magazine left… He pats his chest: the heart beating inside is yours.

He’s gone with you to church. You keep quiet when you’re there, reverential for the sacred atmosphere. When Simon is at your house, he doesn’t talk much either. He bows at the pictures on your walls, though, a savior depicted in all your glory.

He knows when you’re scared, you ask your God for protection. When he was injured in battle, the only thing he thought about was you. The only one at the hospital, the only one tending to his wounds for months, the only one.

Ghost doesn’t believe in God. He does, however, worship you. That’s why he’s standing at the altar, looking at you in your white dress. He is a religious man, after all. A devotee. One to whom you’ve granted entry to Heaven, now that you’re saying yes. One that is loved, even with blood under his nails and gunpowder deep in his pores.

Ghost is a sinner that’s been forgiven before even asking. A coarse attempt at being like you; so pure, good and loving. You let him kneel before you once, a ring in his trembling hand; you took him. You put one on his finger, a gift he’ll never be able to repay, but that he’s infinitely thankful for. He’s not perfect, he’ll never be; and he knows. But he’s doing his best, and you know that. So you kiss him as if he were.

When you leave church -hand in his, husband and wife- he speaks to your God for the first and only time. Says only two words.

Thank you.

[icarusbetide]

washington and his vent letter to hamilton that ends with "but hey i'm not going to vent, hope you're doing well."

on july 10th, 1787, washington wrote hamilton a really interesting letter from philadelphia. at this point, hamilton had rage quit the constitutional convention due to being cockblocked every single time by the two other new york delegates, yates and lansing, and washington is holding fort. this letter's the one with the famous closing, where he very candidly, especially for washington, says:

"I am sorry you went away—I wish you were back."

on one hand, it's kind of cute and says a lot about the mending of their relationship after The Staircase Incident. clearly there's trust and understanding of each other for washington to speak so plainly.

but what gets me every time is what follows that revealing line:

"I am sorry you went away—I wish you were back. The crisis is equally important and alarming, and no opposition under such circumstances should discourage exertions till the signature is fixed. I will not, at this time trouble you with more than my best wishes and sincere regards. I am Dear Sir Yr obedt Servt"

bitch please. this letter is a short three paragraphs and it's washington venting and going "alert alert things aren't going well things aren't going well." he uses the phrase "i almost despair of seeing a favourable issue...and do therefore repent having had any agency in the business". in my modern interpretation that translates to "fuck this i should've minded my own business".

and this man has the audacity to end that letter with "but nah i'm not going to bother you now with this shit. hope you're doing well!"

sir - you can't just say "i will not trouble you with more than my best wishes and sincere regards" RIGHT AFTER troubling someone. maybe he meant it like "okay at this time, as in after i burdened you with bad news, i will not burden you any longer. i will only burden you now with good vibes!" which makes more sense but is still so funny to me.

on one hand it's probably the political savviness? slyness? that historians seem more comfortable acknowledging about washington now. obviously washington knew that him saying all this is definitely going to trouble hamilton, and he does come back - i think this letter played some part in that.

but i like to think that part of it was just due to washington being petty and dramatic. tell me this doesn't sound like every teen conversation where a long rant ends with "but maybe that's just me. i'm just being dramatic lol ignore me".

[damianbugs]

You need to tell us what you think of your favorite Bruce ships. Pls

i should preface by saying i usually prefer bruce (in my own works and others, including comics) to not be in a relationship at all because i can't think of a time he's like ever emotionally stable enough for that. like ever. THAT BEING SAID isn't that all the more reason to throw him into a ship? doomed tragic romance you will always be famous to me

and because i am insane, here are some comic recs to go with my fav bruce ships!!

>batcat

a classic favourite, batcat!!! i will admit i am not the biggest fan of their rebirth stories, and the whole wedding fiasco and most of what tom king wrote about them (and in general) was. not enjoyable. but pre crisis/golden age batcat? MY PARENTS. just. silver and bronze age batcat too. what a refreshing and entertaining couple. the thing that really makes them compelling is at the end of the day they have the same goal; protect the people of gotham. the ways they go about it can be different, and selina especially faces some serious mischaracterisation in order to make bruce look like the "hero" in the relationship, but at their core and simplest expression of love, they share the same dream, and they both know that. it's this selflessness that connects them deeply.

> "The Autobiography of Bruce Wayne" (Batman the Brave and the Bold #197) is, in my opinion, essential batcat reading. a very bittersweet story!

> for a more modern read, "Only Takes a Night" (Catwoman #32) is a delightful read about how hopelessly in love they are. bruce is such a devoted loser.

> ghostbat

every character needs that one irreparably damaging young adult tragic romance that changed their life forever and that is what ghostbat is. khoa is the perfect foil to bruce, in that ultimately, they are two ends of the same spectrum. fiercely stubborn and confident in their own moral code but in the opposite way. this ship is particularly fascinating because even now, the respect and love they have for each other years later is so deeply consuming that it is prevalent in how they interact now. i don't think bruce would have been the person he is without his relationship with khoa pre-batman, in both a good and bad ways. i also really love the hc that khoa is bruce's first heartbreak (refer to: the Snow and Gun incident).

> "Batman The Knight" is like ghostbat religious text. this is all you need. let it destroy you.

> batlantern

no long paragraph about this one because its my silly guilty pleasure. sometimes u need a ship in which they just don't get along except for the times they do. hal brings out such an irritating (said fondly) side to bruce and its even funnier because it works mutually. i think another really wonderful thing about this pairing is that they are really not so different from each other (nothing says romance than being consumed by your guilt and stubbornness), but they both think otherwise, so they knock heads while also begrudgingly respecting about one another in a colleague-friend-crush way. they want to make out so bad it makes them look stupid.

> "Batman: Universe" is a great and short silly story that shows their dynamic really well. amused me greatly. not ship focused though hal is there for like. a single issue unfortunately. but fun!!

> i usually never recommend any new 52 books to get INTO a character, but if you're interested in this pairing and its most 'popular' fanon interation, then "Jutice League (2011)" is the best place to start. you can get to their better stuff afterwards! (there's also an animated movie about it!)

> brutalia

AND BEST TILL LAST. THE BRUCE SHIP OF ALL TIME. ruined my life. CHANGED my life. i wish i could explain how insanely important this relationship is in words. i love my pairings tragic and there is quite literally no other ship quiet as dramatic or poetic than brutalia. talia is often seen as bruce's "one true love" with great reason, and him hers, and despite that they will probably never actually get back together. in a wider lense, the al ghuls and bruce have an insanely complicated dynamic, and this inherent conflict about missions bigger than themselves makes brutalia's forbidden love drama all the more compelling. talia brings out the best in bruce, and bruce respects and loves talia in a way i don't think he does anyone else in his life.

to complain for a moment, it's no wonder that because their relationship (since it's very first introduction) was so irrevocably pure and consensual (they were both so ridiculously obsessed with each other), that Certain Writers had to pull out the most out of character and disgusting stories to make it clear the tone of batman was changing. talia is always a victim to racism, misogyny and just unbelievable ooc writing — most evidently in her stories with bruce, unfortunately.

AND YET. recent comics have realised how truly ridiculous it is to write her as anything but kind and strong, and bruce being anything but hopelessly infatuated. i think my favourite thing about brutalia is that bruce and talia is a relationship that has been separated for actual Decades and so both their characters have been developed to have their own tragic stories and growth. then when we get small moments that bring them back together and letting that past show through the cracks in their carefully constructed walls, it's all the more romantic.

beautiful heartbreaking ship. the kind of relationship historians would cry over. would have the romantic period publishing fifteen books over.

> "Batman: Son of the Demon" is ESSENTIAL brutalia reading. also, if you are insane and delusional enough, it can be the true origin of damian.

> the comic moment that inspired all romance the moment of forever the blueprint even is in the famous "Batman (1940) #244"

> for a more modern take, very recently in fact, is her appearances in Ram V's run of detective comics, starting from #1062. its not brutalia focused, but a great take on how natural and yearning their relationship is now.

[asliceofzosan]

So I have a bunch of ideas for long fics because my goal this year is to deliver longer quality fics over short speedy drabbles and one-shots. I have three options that I very much want to make long fics (like ,, 20k - 40k words). I will put the summaries below to help! Two of these are inspired by movies I watched over the holidays where I went "this is so zosan coded."

Eventually I will post all of these but whichever one gets the most votes will be my priority. Reblogs would be nice as well to get more people to vote ! Love yall mwah happy new year 🎊

Fic 1: Three Pirates and a Princess

A baby was mysteriously placed on the doorstep of Ace, Zoro, and Luffy's shared home five years ago. The little girl, who was a result of a one night stand between Ace and Sanji, is now happily being raised by all 4 of them. Throughout the years, Sanji started to fall for Zoro and vice versa but neither have had the courage to face their feelings head-on. When an opportunity arrives for Sanji to further his career in a different country, he is now faced with a conflict between his growing feelings for Zoro and what is truly best for his daughter.

Fic 2: Mr. Prince Diaries

In order to win the hearts of the people in the Kingdom of Kuraigana, Roronoa Zoro must marry a local noble in order to cement his claim to Dracule Mihawk's throne. However, the Vinsmoke family claimed to have the perfect heir to their throne — the third son Sanji. Zoro must juggle between his responsibilities to the people of Kuraigana and his adoptive father and his rapidly growing distaste (and perhaps fondness) for the blonde bastard who wants to take his crown.

Fic 3: Letters to Baratie

Zeff doesn't hear from Sanji often after he left the Baratie to study abroad in Japan. Zeff hasn't ever gotten the hang of cellphones or computers, so his son sends him letters, detailing everything he's done since the last time he wrote. No letter is the same — except for the increasingly growing paragraphs about a certain green-haired swordsman who seemingly drives Sanji up the wall. Until he doesn't.

[bettsfic]

Hi!

I was wondering how do you elevate or better flesh out a very vague premise (e.g. A man falls in love with his boss). But there are many ways to take vague ideas like this and it’s hard to make it more.

there are really only two paths: the easy, long road; and the hard, fast road. on extremely rare occasion you may hit the jackpot and find an easy, fast road, but in my experience that is like winning the lottery.

the easy, long road:

you write the idea down somewhere. you let it incubate for a really long time. you have faith in the universe that all the pieces will begin to click into place until you go, "i've got it," and start writing.

i call that moment "ignition." when your vague "what am i even trying to write" idea clicks into "wait wait wait, i'm onto something here" and your brain starts churning out ideas for scenes and plot points.

there can be a lot of false starts, where you try to shoehorn your vague idea into another vague idea and see if they make a less vague idea, but sometimes that doesn't work. you may also start working on something else and realize you're unconsciously writing that vague idea you had 3 years ago. but overall it's a passive process. you have to wait for specificity to find you.

the hard, short road:

you write the idea down somewhere. you stare at it until you get a headache, and then you take some ibuprofen and stare at it some more. using the "ignition" metaphor, this is like your car not starting so you just keep turning the engine until it either starts or you flood it.

if you brute force your vague idea, you can potentially ruin it for yourself, but if you're motivated to take this path, i think your first step is to get out a notebook and start brainstorming. if the premise is "a man falls in love with his boss," write a list of industries where they might work. then circle a few of them and start researching those industries to see if you can find a nugget of information that clicks with your idea until you get some kind of conflict churning.

if you can't find anything, you make more lists. list out potential endings, plot points, inciting incidences. character traits and arcs. countries, cities. for every item of every list, make a list of possibilities. if this, then this and this. if that, then that and that. and you go on and on and on until you maybe have enough to get some words down.

an example:

my sister, a copywriter, started doing social media for a welding school. she told me she was learning a lot about welding and that i should write a story about a welding teacher. this school specifically is one of the best in the country, and my sister said something to the effect of, "people come from all over the country to live in this shithole town for six months. that seems like an interesting story."

in my A4 rhodia, on december 19, 2023, i wrote,

story of welding teacher at best welding school in the country

lonely ISTP casey affleck kinda guy (that was my sister's idea; she meant it in a derogatory way)

being taken care of by his grandmother?

all i had was "welder" kind of in the back of my head. fast forward to earlier this month, watching season 3 of the Bad Batch and having a lot of feelings about Crosshair's shakey hands (i've also developed a tremor in my hands).

and then i thought, a welder whose hands begin shaking. that's a conflict, that's an inciting incident. his whole career might be in jeopardy.

i wrote this paragraph:

He'd never admitted to his wife that he wanted kids. They didn’t have any, though, for the same reason he never became a farmer—he didn’t want to raise something just to see it slaughtered. Who knew what kind of war the country would cook up in eighteen years? Turn of the century, sending kids out to god knows where, just the right number of years from Vietnam that everyone would’ve forgotten it, the way that by Vietnam they’d forgotten Korea.

i managed to weave this general idea into the bigger plot of a novel i started a long time ago, and it reignited my interest in that project, and now i'm feeling really good that this 200k monstrosity i thought i would just throw away now might have some potential, more importantly some focus, all because of a vague idea i wrote down months ago.

[fallenhero-rebirth]

Got asked for some writing advice

How did you improve your writing specifically beyond 'just writing more'?

The first thing is to read different things from different genres. Read an old book, and see how that is written. Read a genre you normally don't read. Read some poetry. Go to the library and walk to a random book, open it in the middle and read. Read on paper, and out loud. And then read some more. And when you read, try to think about why you don't like or likes something. Is it boring? Why? Is it hard to understand? Why? What is it in the words you like? Does it feel good to read out loud? If it doesn't, why not?

A tip is to take a book you think is interesting. Take a paragraph from the middle at random, and write it down in a word document. Pay attention to how it feels to write. How are the sentences? Do they feel different from your own? Close the book and continue to write a few paragraphs. Does your style change? What is the difference between your paragraphs and the one above? Sentence length? Comma use? Does it make it better or worse

Another tip is to write down a bit of dialogue from a tv show or movie you like. There might be transcripts online even. Take that dialogue and write a scene with it. Especially if you find dialogue hard to sound natural this might be freeing. Or, you might even find that what sounded good on the screen looks terrible on paper when it's not said by a charismatic actor.

A third is to write fanfiction and try to make it as good as you can. Try to make it real, as if it might have been from the original source. Think about what it was you liked about it, and then try to imitate that and make your own story. Fanfiction gets a bad rep, but it is a great way to experiment with writing without having to come up with characters and a world. That way you can just focus on the language.

Would you have any tips regarding writing interesting characters? Mine are always very flat and bland OR 'mary sues'

First of all, there is nothing wrong with a "mary sue". The way this is used these days, it might as well mean "protagonist". If Batman or James Bond can get away with their shit, your protagonist certainly can too. And your characters will be flat at the start because a story consists of so many parts. You have your language, your plot, your world, your story rhythm. And when you are starting out, there's simply too many things to focus on. You won't get depth in all of them, and the characters are what you spot being flat first, because that's usually what attracts us to a story in the first place.

My characters were terribly flat when I started out, but I wrote short story horror so it didn't matter. Nobody read that for the characters.

A trick I have to try to get my characters to feel alive is to write arguments. Take two characters you have trouble with and let them talk. Argue about something. Be stuck in an awkward situation together. Don't bother writing anything but dialogue, never mind the actual scene. Just write them talking, and after a while you might get a feel for how they feel different from one another. Maybe they start talking about things about them that you didn't even know. Explore. Have fun. Have them say something weird. Something hurtful. Write reactions. Don't bother thinking if it's usable or not. I've written pages of dialogue just to get a feel for how people talk.

I usually build characters by combining archetypes. I start with one people will know immediately, then add another, and a third. They will be uncovered one at a time, adding depth. Let's take Ricardo Ortega for example. The first archetype is "the sexy leading man/hero". Then, we get to know what I fondly call "the himbo". And finally, we discover "the clever, sneaky asshole". I didn't need to bring in all those things at once, as long as I got writing the first archetype, people would be interested and intrigued when they learned about the new facets.

Would you have any tips on writing humor/banter? You're pretty dang good at it but I could never figure out how to be funny lmao all the jokes I write are Extremely Cringe.

Oh I wish. I honestly have no idea. I was terrible writing characters and dialogue. I think something clicked when I wrote massive amounts of DA2 fanfic, because that was a game which consisted of nothing but banter, so I tried to mimic it the best I could. I have never liked comedies or really understood humor, so I never try to be funny. It's the one part of my writing I truly does not understand, some of my characters are just like that.

What's your plot planning process like, if you have a consistent one? I can only figure out the very generic broad strokes but it falls apart as soon as I try to come up with details.

All plots are generic broad strokes. Rebirth is basically just emo protagonist monologues a lot, meets up with some old friends and proceeds to beat them up. That's it. All plots will look flat and boring in your head, because what makes a plot cool and interesting is that you don't know what's going to happen. You do. You're the author. So of course it will look flat and uninteresting in your head. The hardest thing is trying to ignore this.

My workaround to this is only knowing the barest of broad strokes. I know where I want to go, who the opposition is, some basic scenes that needs to be there (not in detail) and then I write and discover things as I go along. That is the only way for me to remain interested in the plot, if I had planned it in detail I'd get bored. And oh, sure, there's a lot of foreshadowing and hidden things in my writing, but that's only because I know some big things that's going to happen. It's not like I have sat down and detail planned every chapter, what things I need to plant there, and so on. A lot of the times I forget things, and have to go back and add them, and so on. I would say focus on the characters before the plot. If you manage to figure out how to write fun characters first, nobody will care if the plot is bland.

[karuvapatta]

so hey, remember when I said I wasn't going to write any more Jonelias? but then things happened, we started chatting about a fantasy AU on the Jonelias discord server, and, uh. I wrote a short ficlet set in said AU...?

***

Jon knocked on the door, once, twice; his hands shook slightly, so the rhythm of it was unpleasantly erratic. Should he knock again? He didn’t want to appear rude or impatient, but he also didn’t want to risk being too quiet. If the man didn’t hear him, if he thought Jon was running late—

“Come in.”

He took in a steadying breath and pushed the door open. Immediately he stepped into a patch of sunlight, streaming directly from the huge, ornate window on the opposite wall. He blinked, narrowed his eyes; the desk was silhouetted against the bright sky, and it took him a moment to adjust.

“Mr Sims, I presume?”

“I—yes. Jonathan Sims. Er.” Jon cleared his throat. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me, Master Bouchard. It’s an. An honour.”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” Master Bouchard said smoothly. “Please, take a seat.”

He gestured at a chair in front of his desk. Jon took a few careful steps in its direction, and then sat down on the edge of the seat, taking care not to slouch. The bag he forgot to take off his shoulder dangled awkwardly. He had to shuffle around to remove it, and first placed it on his lap, before setting it down on the floor next to the chair. His hands were sweaty; he wiped them off on his trousers before he could think better of it, and then attempted to smooth the resultant creases in the fabric. His left cuff rode up an inch, so he tugged it down, and made sure it laid snug and secure around his wrist. Only then did he manage to look up.

Master Bouchard was watching him, the corner of his mouth twitching momentarily before settling into a polite smile. His steel-grey eyes flickered down to Jon’s hands, no doubt noting all the nervous gestures. His gaze felt—weighty. Not unsympathetic, just—

Jon swallowed.

“Shall we begin, then?” Bouchard asked. “Your resume is quite impressive for one so young, Mr Sims. Five publications across two journals…”

“Three,” Jon said. “I mean—I wrote three articles. For the other two, I was a co-author… mostly editorial input…” Again, he tried to clear his throat. He shouldn’t have interrupted a Master; he should have kept his mouth shut. Damn.

But Bouchard didn’t seem frazzled by the blatant disrespect. He opened a file on his desk – Jon’s file. Jon’s resume, his letter of recommendation, a printout of the articles, his diploma… Bouchard skimmed the contents. Had he read them before? He must have had. Or maybe he didn’t have time in his busy schedule to review every single applicant. But, then again – why invite Jon for a meeting?

“Why do you want to study Divination, Mr Sims?” Bouchard asked.

This question, Jon knew to expect. He managed to recite his well-rehearsed answer with no incriminating pauses or unnecessary repetitions. Finally.

“What about practical spellwork?” Bouchard asked.

Jon paused for a second. “I don’t—I’m not really well-versed in that area. I prefer theory to practice.”

“Did you take any of the relevant courses?”

Damn. Damn.

“I, uh,” Jon stammered. “I took one semester of the introductory module. It was—well—it wasn’t a subject I wanted to pursue.”

Let that be it, Jon thought. Obviously it came up; it had to come up. Very few people enrolled at the Institute to study theory.

“Can you show me what you have learned?”

“I didn’t learn anything,” Jon said sharply. He flinched, then, at the tone of his voice, and at the implications – that he was too lazy or too stupid to learn. It made him look exceedingly unprofessional. “I meant—I don’t see how this is relevant to the position I’m applying for,” he amended. Then, hastily: “Master.”

“A peculiar question,” Bouchard said. “You yourself wrote several paragraphs on the potential interference of errant magic on pre-existing enchantments.”

“I do not use magic,” Jon said. “I won’t be causing any interferences.”

“Even so. Accidents happen.”

“They won’t.” Jon grabbed his sleeve and shoved it upwards, exposing his wrist, and the thin, silver bracelet encircling it, with its webbing of faintly pulsating strands. “Whatever magic I might accidentally use will be fully suppressed. It’s not going to be a problem.”

Bouchard was watching him attentively, gaze flickering between the bracelet and Jon’s face. He didn’t seem surprised; was it written down somewhere in Jon’s file, then? Or did he have some other means of detecting such objects? Some mages were reportedly able to sense the subtle alterations in a person’s aura, the miniscule difference between absent and suppressed magic, even without the relevant spells or implements. But Jon could hardly believe those reports. They seemed rather far-fetched.

“May I?” Bouchard asked. His meaning became clear when he leaned forward and extended his hand, palm up, inviting. Jon examined it, warily. Was he expected to remove the bracelet? Bouchard wasn’t expecting him to do something that foolish, did he?

It seemed rude to keep him waiting, though. And Jon was on thin enough ground as it was. So, slowly, he placed his hand on the desk, within range of Bouchard’s touch.

He couldn’t help flinching in his seat when the man’s long, slender fingers brushed his bare skin. Bouchard’s hand was warm, textured with callouses, scars and imperfections; its movements were clever and purposeful, as he examined the bracelet. He wasn’t using magic, as far as Jon could tell. Or maybe he was, and it was too subtle for Jon to notice.

“Remarkable,” Bouchard said under his breath.

Jon slipped his hand from the man’s hold and drew back, tugging the sleeve down, nearly to the level of his knuckles, to make sure the thing was completely covered. He didn’t want to meet Bouchard’s gaze. Mostly, he just wanted to go home.

[bubblessunshinehoney]

Day 7- Cockwarming with Steve Rogers

291 words

18 + only! NO MINOR INTERACTIONS

Kinktober masterlist

A/N: hey guys, i have to repost all of my 18 days of Kinktober for now. Because my account got suspended last night. Many of you might have read them already, and maybe many more of you might read it for the first time. I'm not someone who asks for reblogs, likes are find by me. But for this one time...i would be very grateful if you could reblog it. To help me go back in the game. I'm sad that i lost all my works. But so grateful i wrote them on Word... Or i would have lost literally months of prepration.

So yeah, Hi again, i'm back, hopping to get back my first account.

Enjoy,

Cloudy

Don't be shy to comment, reblog or like! :)

TW: Dom/sub (dom steve), cockwarming, rough sex, p in v, pwp.

not beta read, english is not my first language, all mistakes are my own

It was your thing. He comes back for a mission, long or short and he had to be inside you…just to feel you around him. Any hour, any moment of the day, it was the deal.

But how can you focus on your text when he’s so deep inside you? You hated and loved to cockwarming on your desk chair. You love it because, he’s hugging you most of the time and leaving kisses on your shoulders and neck. You hate it because you feel every ridge of his cock, every pulsation in your core and of his shaft.

“Stop squirming”, he warns, holding your hips tighter and pushing your chair more against the desk. “Stevie, it’s too much…”. He chuckles and grabs your breasts. “You can and you will take it, sunshine. Like you always do, I need to be inside you, you know I need it as much as you do.” You can only nod your agreement, holding back a moan, he just moved slightly pushing against your most sensitive spot.

“Good, now finish this text so I can bend you over this desk, it’s been almost two hours now and you don’t seem to have really… write that much.” That’s because he makes you unable to think more than three seconds for two hours. You take a deep breath and focus hard on your last paragraph. You know you will have to reread everything tomorrow but the biggest is still done.

You push the dot key. The last one final point of your text and you just have the time to save it, before he gets up and bends you over your desk, lifting your skirt and slaps your ass. “My fucking good girl, now you get reward.”

taglist :

@navybrat817 @christywantspizza @buckyalpine @iloveprettyboysblog @ethreal-love @nailedbymandy

@captainsimagines @buckybarnesandmarvel @rogersandlightwood @sparkledfirecracker @barneswinterraven @hansensgirl @blades-and-heartbreak @runa-falls @chrisdrysdale

[howtofightwrite]

How much detail should go into a fight scene to make it vivid but not oversaturated with information? If the battle is between two trained fighters then should the descriptions be more quick and to the point since the fight would likely be quick? Or would it be better to focus on quick thoughts and strategies leading to the action? How does change with sparring practice or novice attackers?

The best way to think about fight scenes is that they are a cathartic end to prebuilt tension. That tension can be created in a few paragraphs, a couple of pages, possibly even a few chapters, but the fight itself (no matter how tense it is) translates to catharsis for your audience. You build to the scene, have the fight, release the tension, and then new tension seeps back in as a result of the characters dealing with the consequences.

Regardless of how you stylistically choose to approach fight scenes on a sentence by sentence level, it’s important to understand how the scene itself behaves in broad strokes so you’re not accidentally releasing your narrative’s tension out of order.

As for how to write fight scenes, there’s no right way to do it except practicing to find the tempo that works best for you and for your individual characters. Personally, I find that clear images and short visual descriptions work best for both experienced characters and for novices. One of the main differences isn’t just the speed at which the fight is ended, but the level of comfort and confidence a character expresses in their narration. (Knowledge of advanced strategy and tactics on the part of the author also helps, but, remember, what you don’t know can be learned.)

Here’s a short snippet I wrote for two characters in a practice duel. Aysun, a well-trained young woman but inexperienced and has never fought a live battle, versus Leah, an experienced swordswoman who grew up in a rough environment fighting for her life.

Blade lit, Aysun hurled herself across the chasm between pillars.

Leah grinned.

They met in the center.

Aysun rushed forward.

Leah sensed the rising arm, the flaming blade pointed straight into a thrust; Aysun ready to let forward momentum carry her strike to victory. She slowed as Aysun landed, pivoted onto a diagonal as the blazing sabre seared past into empty air. Blade up, she struck.

The sensor on Aysun’s chest glowed red.

A horn blared.

“Out!”

So, what does Aysun do wrong? In her overconfidence against an unknown opponent, Aysun rushes in. Rushing is a common tactic you’ll see in martial artists who’ve only ever fought in safe environments because they don’t worry about getting hurt. This is a novice mistake, but also one you’ll see from people who should know better. When I set out to write Aysun, I decided she’d fight via tournament rules. That’s what she knows.

Meanwhile, Leah, being experienced, takes advantage of Aysun’s mistake. She starts by running and looks to Aysun like she’s also rushing, but this is just to lure Aysun in. As they get closer, Leah incrementally slows her pace to allow herself more control over her own momentum. The problem with rushing is that if you close the distance too fast, you can’t stop in time and you run into your opponent. Leah doesn’t bother to block or parry Aysun, as it’d put her at risk of being on the receiving end of Aysun’s momentum. Instead, Leah steps out of line, allows Asyun to go past, and utilizes Aysun’s overextension to claim victory.

(We are, of course, missing the entire setup where Leah baited Aysun into this bout.)

One of the major differences you see between experts, intermediates, and novices isn’t the usage of advanced techniques, but adept use of very basic ones. They don’t game out a fight on the fly because that takes time, instead acting on prebuilt strategies and relying on trained reflexes. With advanced fighters who regularly see combat, they’re more miserly when it comes to showing the audience what they can really do. They’re aware of the exterior consequences that persist outside of the fight.

Some common personality traits of advanced characters versus novices:

Advanced:

Decisive - what it says on the tin. They’re unlikely to hesitate when given openings and go straight for the kill.

Explosive - they shift from resting into violence quickly and without hesitation when they decide the situation calls for it.

Selective - probably saw this fight and that one coming and will move early to avoid as necessary. Injuries mean you can’t fight when it matters.

Confident - confidence comes from experience. They know what they do, and they know they’re good at it. Can be mistaken for overconfidence until seen in action. More likely to talk shit pre-game. They know the value of psychological warfare. Some variants may get a kick out using this confidence to piss off their opponents so they fight angry.

Practical - experience leads to realistic expectations. Experienced characters don’t need to prove themselves and know to save themselves for when it matters, so baiting is harder. Most of the usual shit talk will wash off. Also, more likely to punch someone in the shoulder because punching with a now swelling bruise hurts and slows them down.

Brutality - not guaranteed, but not uncommon either. Here again, we have psychological warfare.

Fatality - unless you’re looking at a situation where killing is not allowed, they’ll lean into this if circumstances require it.

Sophisticated Bodily Knowledge - they know where all the major arteries, important nerve clusters, and internal organs are. (Yes, this includes knowing that stabbing someone in the armpit or groin can cause them to bleed out.) Also what hitting them does and what hitting them feels like. They’re going to be more pointed and technical with their strikes depending on what they want. More likely to break the human body down into joints and ligaments. Understands small damage leads to big results.

Sophisticated Psychological Knowledge - less experienced characters are not likely to surprise them because they’ve seen the same tactics before. Humans aren’t that unique. A clever idea to a novice is an old song for the experienced fighter, and one they’ve probably tried before. Fighting is more than technical, its pattern recognition, and being good at it requires understanding people on a behavioral level to predict them.

Room to Play - this is simultaneously a do and don’t which depends on how strict the character is. May play with a less experienced character or character with no experience if they believe they can get away with it. They know their limits. Not advised, but nobody’s perfect.

Spends Time Practicing - the more skilled a character is, the more rigorously they practice and the more time they devote to developing their skills. While some characters are inclined to rest on their laurels, truly advanced characters know their edge falls off without training and understand the ceiling is without limit. They’re dedicated to their skills.

Chains Techniques - unless you have a character fighting with a bladed weapon, and even when they do, they’re unlikely to be one and done. Blocks create openings for counters. One strike opens the door to another three and so on. (Lots of writers mistakenly try to ping pong fight scenes to draw them out. Combat isn’t turn based. If an opponent isn’t providing suitable resistance to slow them down, they won’t.)

Considers Long Term Consequences - familiarity with techniques means understanding what those techniques do, what the long term consequences are, and how long it takes to recover from them (if they can be recovered from at all.) The same goes for battle. Violence is escalation. Characters who solve problems with violence should face escalating problems further down the road as a result of their actions.

You might be thinking male characters, but this list is gender agnostic. It’s important as a writer not to buy into a skilled character’s bullshit. They’re working very hard to convince the world they’re invulnerable, but that doesn’t mean it’s true.

Novices:

Optimistic - trends for a more romantic, rosier view of martial combat. Experience with the human condition hasn’t knocked it out of them yet.

Indecisive - for most people, it’s not easy to hurt another human being. To see their pain and suffering and to know you caused it. Novices are more likely to hesitate, more likely to ignore openings given if they don’t like the potential outcome, more likely to extend fights to their own detriment, and take hits they don’t have to. Less likely to seize the initiative and, if they do, not great at holding onto it against experienced opponents. They haven’t fully realized they can’t afford to be nice outside of safe, training settings.

More Tells - everyone has tells, but the less experienced a character is then the more obvious their tells are and the more they have. This can be everything between the way they stand to their techniques generally being larger in motion, more obvious in the early movements of the musculature, less energy efficient, and, comparatively, much slower than their experienced counterparts.

More Likely to Flinch - combat hurts coming and going. It hurts to receive hits, but it also hurts to hit someone. The closer you are to bone, the more it’s going to hurt. The harder you hit, the more return vibrations you receive. Beyond movement, these vibrations are what wears out your muscles in prolonged combat. (It only gets worse with weapons.) Proper technique diminishes some of these damaging returns, but not totally. Inexperienced characters will stop to go, “ow, that hurts.” You’ve probably seen characters on television shaking out their hand after hitting another character, that’s what this is. Pain. Inexperienced characters and novice characters are both less capable of pushing past the pain because their training hasn’t covered it or they don’t know to expect it.

Plays Around - there’s a point between novice and intermediate where someone’s learned enough to be dangerous (mostly to themselves)but not yet realized how little they actually know. This leads to overconfidence and overconfidence leads to playing around.

Less Advanced Body Knowledge - more likely to demonstrate less sophisticated knowledge of the human body, unlikely to break the body into pieces, and focus only on the major points like stomach, heart, head. Less focus on exterior limbs and joints, not a lot of thought given to pressure points outside the groin, less common arteries, or damaging musculature to debilitate. Might realize preemptive opening blow to the throat is good, but probably not thinking in those terms yet.

Less Advanced Psychological Knowledge - they don’t have the experience to pick up on the more subtle psychological games and are more likely to be baited. (If you’ve got an MC like this, it’s important to let them make their mistakes. Mistakes build experience and audience street cred.)

One and Done - most martial schools will train blocks and counters early, along with technique sets, but for true beginners chaining unfamiliar techniques won’t feel natural and there’s more likely to be gaps in their combat flow.

Easily Overwhelmed - much more likely to not understand what is going on or for the pacing of combat to fly out of their control.

Few Considerations For Long Term Consequences - novices have the luxury to be hot headed. They haven’t learned about the debilitations of long term injuries or even just the damages caused by small ones. They’re easier to write because they’re more likely to jump in with wild abandon, are met with more surprises, and have an easier growth trajectory for their character arc.

As a writer with no combat or limited martial experience, you’re more likely to start out thinking like a novice when structuring your scenes. While humans are very impressive creatures, it’s easy to overestimate what the body can fight through in comparison to damage received, especially against skilled opponents.

Ultimately, clarity and specificity in how you deliver the visual image combined with the sensation of the character’s combat can provide an entertaining fight scene. This is dependent on your writing, if you focus too much on technical details like sentence structure and not enough on the content and building up character’s decision making then the scene itself might fall completely flat.

Fight scenes are an extension of a greater whole. They’re the frosting on the cake, but the cake’s got to be tasty to begin with. Like martial combat in the real world, there’s no shortcuts, just a lot of hard work. Try, fail, reassess, try again. With practice, you’ll find your rhythm.

Michi

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