#also you have no idea how tempted i was to write this entire post using the [tumblr] thing. why is that a feature

[feeder86]

Feeder 86: The Top Ten

Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?

This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time. 

Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!

So, with that being said, let us begin...

#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!

#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.

#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.

#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.

#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.

#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.

#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...

If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.

#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…

#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet. 

Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…

Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!

Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…

#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion. 

With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control. 

The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…

So, there you have it! The the complete list!

This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...

So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.  

Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.

Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.

Happy 200 stories!

Feeder86

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Intercultural Bias in the Fan Experience of QL

I've been thinking about writing this post for a while, and I think it's an appropriate time for it after reading @hallowpen's post today - which if you haven't read yet, please do so.

I'm saying this as someone who's been on a lifelong journey of learning, and is also extremely aware I still have so much that I don't know. I am from the U.S. and that comes with a truckload of bias and privilege. But this is something I have learned that I think is worth sharing.

There is a danger, for those of us who are progressive, yet grew up in countries that have been historically exploitative and oppressive to other cultures.

Because colonizer bias is insidious. And it can be very tempting to say, I'm aware, I've done the anti-racism training, I've read the books, I have my own oppressions I have to fight every day, I'm aware of my privilege, I'm an ally, etc, etc, etc. But this is just like racism - if you are not being actively anti-colonialist in your interactions with other cultures, you are likely perpetuating bias and oppression.

I grew up in a very liberal part of the U.S. and had a very progressive education starting from grade school. I got education on systemic racism in junior high, my high school had one of the first gay/straight alliances in our state. I studied science in college, but since it was a liberal arts degree, I also took classes on sociology of race, the religions of Asia, Chinese history, etc.

But despite all this I still grew up in a country with a fuckton of bias about our role in how we interact with countries around the world. And as we all do with bias that we grow up with, I internalized some of that.

It wasn't until I took some graduate coursework on Intercultural Training & Communication that I really was able to recontextualize my perspective and become aware of my unconscious bias, thank to an amazing instructor.

Other countries do not need us to come in, tell them what is wrong, and tell them how to fix it. Whatever problems there are, there are people in that culture who know, who are actively working on it, and they know better than anyone outside what needs to be done.

Honestly, it doesn't even need to extend to other countries - just look at all the nonprofits and charities in the U.S. that talk about helping the poor, but in the end just perpetuate the cycle of oppression by coming in to neighborhoods and doing zero work to center the perspectives of the people most affected.

You can absolutely support and spread awareness and send money and share expertise when asked, and do the things that the people of that culture ask you to do.

But if you come in, and try to say "this is what you all are doing wrong, and this is what you should be doing" - you are perpetuating a colonialist mindset.

And yes, this extends to media as well.

This is why I struggle with some of the takes I have read, especially those that attempt to rank the "queerness authenticity" of shows, from an entirely Western perspective, with no engagement with the idea that one's queer identity is impacted by one's culture (among other things), and that it can look and be expressed in a million different ways.

There are criticisms of queer directors, blaming them for a myriad of perceived sins, with zero understanding of what queerness might mean to them both individually and as a Thai person, and what they might also be trying to navigate socially, culturally, and politically.

There are people making broad sweeping statements about the direction that they think QL is headed in - some of which enter the realm of catastrophizing - entirely based on their own subjective opinion of what is most important for a different country and culture to care most about in a particular moment in time.

You know why I'm not worried about the direction of QL? Because I know there are millions of Thai people who care about it too. I know the Thai queer community and their allies are speaking up, and pushing for change and progress. I know that they are extremely cognizant of when representation fails, and I know they are the reason representation has already improved so much (sorry interfans, it's not about us).

And yeah, sometimes the pendulum swings the other way - those of us in the U.S. should be very aware of this. But the fight doesn't stop.

There are Thai people who are working to promote mental health and therapy, to encourage people to have strong boundaries with family who have hurt them, to provide more representation for groups who still aren't seen. And someone from a different country complaining about all the ways they think their culture is failing isn't helping a thing.

Like @hallowpen says, this is not about saying you can't critique. Most of the people I follow do a great job at making it consistently clear that their perspective is subjective, and they relate it to their own life and experience. That's great, and a place for people from different cultures to connect!

But those of us who are interfans have a responsibility as members of a global community. There are people from Thailand who read your posts. From Japan, from Korea, from China. Are you speaking up to support them? Or are you talking over them? Are you expressing understanding for what they are navigating from historical context and current political conditions? Or are you just lecturing them on how you think their world should be?

[stinglesswasp]

Hi! First of all, I think your art is gorgeous and honestly whatever words I put here, they will never be able to do your art justice. I love your visual storytelling! Now for the actual ask part. How could one start learning how to draw? I have a STEM background and I have wrestled many times before with the idea of trying to pick up drawing and every time I see content creators, such as you, posting their works, it makes me even more motivated to get some scenarios out of my head and place them on paper. Right now I do it in writing but I would love to do something graphic about it too. Problem is, it can feel overwhelming to start as there are so many resources and stuff and it can feel like a daunting task. So, how did you start drawing?

Thank you so much and I hope you will always keep your passion for this craft alive and well. Be it CoD or anything else.

Hi, thank you for your kind words! I've been drawing since I was a wee baby wasp, but anyone can start at anytime. You're absolutely right that it can feel overwhelming, but I love that you're motivated! That's honestly half the battle. I can give some general advice:

Start small, like really small… I know it's tempting to immediately jump into drawing your favourite blorbos smooching (yes, this is the entire point of being an artist) but it's like exercise, you need to build muscle bit by bit before you can attempt any ambitious goals. Draw very basic shapes like circles, squares, triangles, followed by spheres, cylinders, prisms. Try to rotate/stretch/skew/slice them in your mind's eye and draw the result. Draw some simple objects around you. You'll find that all objects, including complex organic forms, can be broken down into basic shapes. Here's an example of the types of exercises you can try: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6F5q_5HC3o

There are beginner's tutorials on every aspect of drawing, I'd recommend spending a chunk of time in each area, learning fundamentals like perspective, proportions, and lighting. There are easy rules that you can follow that will make your art look 'correct' and not 'wonky' which might happen if you try to wing it without really understanding what you're doing. This video (though more advanced) has tons of useful advice and a fantastic guideline to follow: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6T_-DiAzYBc (in fact I think this is one of the best art 'tutorials' ever 🤯)

Be patient with yourself!! Your brain literally needs time to grow new neurons because you're learning a new skill. It can be frustrating to be unable to draw what you're imagining, but go easy and build up a strong foundation first. The more solid this is, the more satisfied you'll be when you finally tackle the stuff you actually want to make.

I hope this was helpful! Just practice a lot, have fun, and be proud of your progress 🧡 (also, sit with good posture, stay hydrated and take regular breaks <3)

[froggibus]

Colder Weather - Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor

Genre: fluff headcanons

Summary: how the boys act when it’s cold + snowing outside

CW: cold weather, snow, asmo forcing you to go outside (ew), lots of cuddling, pretty mid writing on my part

okok so no Lucifer or Satan for this one cause I just had no ideas :((( like I had a few but not nearly enough for complete hcs so sorry guys

also holy fuck it’s been a while since I wrote obey me hcs lmao so im a little rusty…sorry guys

also I promise I’ll shut up but it’s gonna be almost -50 celsius here this weekend (yay, Canada!) so I will be stuck inside if you guys have any obey me (or other fandoms) ideas!!

Mammon:

Mammon and to snow DO NOT mix

biggest baby in the entire Devildom when it gets cold

he has this super tacky fur coat that he insists is real rabbit fur (it’s faux—the big softy couldn’t bear real fur)

refuses to leave the house, even if he has to work

worse than that: he refuses to let you leave the house, even if you have things to do

“hey, human. where d’ya think you’re going? it’s cold out there. you’ll get sick, or worse, dead!”

invites you to his room cause he has this ‘super awesome heater’ (read: himself)

you end up lounging on the couch with him and watching movies with excruciatingly long car chases

you start shivering despite the sweater you’re wearing, and Mammon not so begrudgingly beckons you over to come sit under the blanket with him

honestly he forgets how to breathe because you’re so close and you smell nice and you’re relying on him for warmth

at some point it gets colder and you start shivering again

goes to grab another blanket but you stop him, looking up at him with those pleading eyes

“don’t go, mams. i’ll freeze without you.”

pretends to be humble about it but inside he is screaming

not sure how it happens but you end up in his lap??

he has both arms around you, cocooning you between him and the blanket

you both fall asleep on the couch, snow storm long forgotten

Leviathan:

locks himself in his room to spend the whole day watching anime

also sorry but this man’s room is a whole terrarium

he’s got his heater, his fan, his air purifier, his humidifier

his place is always the perfect temperature and the perfect place to take refuge in a blizzard

he pretends like he’s annoyed when you come into his room, dressed in warm clothes and fuzzy socks, a blanket draped over your shoulders

but really he doesn’t mind—he actually has to hide his rosy cheeks with you because he’s so flustered at the idea that you chose him

orders an insane amount of comfort food to eat during your anime marathon

like heaps and heaps of food that the two of you couldn’t possibly finish

offers you to share his blanket with him, wrapping it around the two of you to keep warm while you munch on food

somehow it turns into you leaning your head on his shoulder, eyelids getting heavy in the warmth of his room

Levi can’t even be annoyed that you’re missing episodes of the anime—you look so cute like this

Asmo:

HATES the cold, LOVES the snow 

it’s a weird dynamic…

dresses you up in the cutest snowsuit ever, and forces you to sit outside in the cold for over an hour taking pictures 

“asmo we’re gonna catch a cold”

“demons don’t get sick from the cold, don’t be silly”

you’re not a demon????

when he’s finally done with the pictures don’t expect any attention from him after

he still has to edit, caption and post them to Devilgram 

you sit under his comforter in the corner of his bed, shivering miserably and shooting glares at him from the corner of your eyes 

Finally he puts down his DDD and looks at you, his eyes sparkling when he sees just how cute and cold you look 

uses the cold as an excuse to get as close to you as possible, cuddling you tightly 

he’s so tempted to take a selfie of the two of you in bed together but he doesn’t want to ruin the moment 

probably insists on your laying between his legs with your head on his chest for ‘maximum warmth’ 

really he just want to feel you

you end up falling asleep in his room, and who is he to wake you? 

Beel:

honestly indifferent to the cold

he’s just built differently 

he’s not the biggest fan of it, but he’s not as much of a baby as some of his older brothers 

still, he doesn’t quite like the idea of you going out in the cold (at least, not without proper protection)

offers to get anything you need, but if you insist on going out, he’ll come with you 

and of course he bundles you up first 

has you dressed in one of his sweaters with one of his old winter jackets over top

you look tiny in his big clothes 

when you get home after he’ll make you stand in front of the heater to warm up while he disappears into the kitchen 

of course he’s going into the kitchen 

but you’re pleasantly surprised when he comes back with two steaming bowls of chicken noodle soup

you guys eat and watch a movie in the living room, Beel asking you every five minutes if you’re cold 

you take another one of his sweaters just to get him to stop bothering you about it  

insists on feeding you every hour and piling snacks on the coffee table 

“don’t give me that look. you need food to stay warm, y/n.”

Belphie:

hates blizzards because they interrupt his sleep 

he can usually sleep through anything—from sunny days to volcanic eruptions

but the cold??? no way

his bed gets cold and even his thickest, softest blankets don’t help 

but…maybe a certain warm human could help his sleep 

ends up crawling into bed with you in the middle of the night, hardly making a sound 

you only wake when you feel the bitter cold on your body slowly fading away, a new warmth pressed against you 

“go back to sleep—don’t move! im comfy....”

you’re not even phased by Belphie sneaking into bed with you at this point 

and the warmth is honestly really nice 

you cuddle back into him, shoving your back as tight against his chest as it will go 

he throws an arm over your waist, holding your hip flush against his 

definitely stays with you the whole night—and the next few after that 

with the excuse he’s just ‘keeping warm’, of course 

checks on you every time he wakes up in the night, groggily reaching out to make sure you’re still warm and okay

-

Obey Me! Masterlist

[kiwiana-writes]

Fic Pride Friday

Thank you to the fabulous @rmd-writes for the tag! As always, though, with 239 fanworks on AO3, this is a beast of a task lmfao.

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

This got long (and I'm like... actively trying not to Feel Bad™️ about that), so four fandoms' worth of snippets under the cut!

Tagging: @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise

@dumbpeachjuice @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @whimsymanaged

And, of course, an open tag to whoever wants to play!

Red White & Royal Blue

What a beautiful tone aka introspective rimming:

Henry has touched Alex in a thousand different ways since he shook the hand of a beautiful boy with a yellow ipê-amarelo in his pocket and fell in love, so he doesn’t quite understand why he’s trembling as he rolls them both until Alex is on his back, hair spread out on the pillow, lips parted slightly and eyes filled with trust as Henry settles on top of him. With his arms bracketing Alex’s shoulders, Henry places a hand on Alex’s jaw and pours all the love and pride that’s been coursing through his veins since Alex delivered his speech into a deep kiss, his tongue running along Alex’s bottom lip, coaxing it further open. The noise Alex makes in response is devastating. He’s a live wire, arching up into Henry’s touch in a way that is somehow both entirely nonsexual and an unbelievable turn on. Alex moves like he’s trying to crawl inside Henry’s skin, letting out soft moans and shivering gasps that burrow their way between Henry’s fourth and fifth ribs and carve out a place for themselves there, somewhere only Alex has ever reached.

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers, the coffee shop 5+1 where Alex is so hot it very literally makes Henry stupid:

“How can I do you today?” Bollocksing, buggering fuck. Henry’s going to have to migrate to Tristan Da Cunha. Actually, while that’s the most remote place he knows of, he’s also fairly certain they’re a British Overseas Territory and therefore speak English, which isn’t particularly helpful in his current predicament. He’ll brainstorm, though he expects that the long and sordid history of global British colonisation is really not going to be his friend here. Walking Wet Dream blinks slowly—once, twice—before his face splits into a wide grin. “Tempting fucking offer, sweetheart.” A tongue peeks out to wet a pair of plump lips, which only provides Henry with some extremely vivid ideas for what else might look good between those same lips, and oh Christ, if he actually gets hard underneath this hideous apron he’ll have to lock himself in his own basement. The fact that he doesn’t have a basement is immaterial, really.

A Practical Arrangement, the arranged marriage AU -- tbh I'm proud of ALL of Alex's internal narration about Henry in chapter one but this is a particular favourite:

“I thought Windsor valued courtly manners?” Alex grins widely, tampering down a smirk at the way Henry’s ridiculously chiselled jaw twitches, obviously displeased at the way Alex is going off-script. “As your betrothed, surely you should be showering me with compliments as you greet me?” Henry raises an eyebrow, and looks at Alex in a way that makes him suddenly, viscerally aware of the four inches of height Henry has on him. It’s a height difference that has always put Alex on edge; it never used to be the case, Alex is pretty sure from the vague memories he has of them in their younger years, but between one meeting and the next, suddenly Henry was no longer at his eye level. “As soon as I find something to compliment, I assure you I shall do so.” Alex almost laughs; that was funny. Rude and untrue, but funny. It’s a shocking amount of personality for Henry to display. “Back in Texas, they extol my many virtues, Your Royal Highness,” he drawls, pointedly ignoring June’s scoff. “Do you need me to give you a list?” “I’m sure they do,” Henry says gravely, but there’s a flicker of something at the corner of his mouth that could almost be a smirk. There’s a long pause before he adds: “…in Texas.” Alex’s jaw drops before he can stop it. That absolute fucker.

Kinda think that I might be his type, the Alex and Bea fake dating fic that blew up in a way I wasn't expecting but am forever grateful for; I'm proud of this whole damn fic but this line made me get up and walk away from my computer after writing it lmao:

“Don’t worry, though.” He winks at Bea, tampering down a grin at the way she bites her lip as she realises whatever he’s about to say is at serious risk of making her laugh. “We’re not going to wait until I’m out of school to start popping out great-grandbabies for you. I wanna be papi for real, not just to my little honeypot here, if you know what I mean.” The sharp clatter of Mary’s teacup against her saucer thankfully drowns out the choked wheezing sound from Bea’s throat; Alex only risks glancing at Bea for a moment, just enough to realise she’s fighting for her life not to burst out laughing. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up before he sounds like he’s reading lines from a terribly scripted and vaguely racist porno.

Puck It, the college hockey AU with my favourite analogy I've ever written:

Alex is aware that he might be bisexual in the same way he’s aware that he might be allergic to cats; there have been a few brief interactions to make him think it’s probably true, but so far it hasn’t had any impact on his life, so he hasn’t really had a reason to look into it and find out for sure. Now, faced with Henry’s clavicle and the sudden, vivid mental image of sinking his teeth into it, he’s not sure how theoretical it is anymore.

Handprints in wet cement, the 5+1 celebration of Henry's Oxford Slut Phase that is just so important to me:

“It’s not.” Alex’s fingers flex a little, digging into Henry’s skin. “It’s— you had all these experiences, and sometimes I can’t believe you want to share them all with me. That you’ll just tell me about them, and if it’s something we’re both into, we can just… go for it. It means a lot. You know that, right?” Henry blinks at him. If he’s honest, he’s never really understood Alex’s eagerness to hear about Henry’s uni hookups; Henry himself, while not bothered by Alex’s own past, has never felt any particular need to seek out stories about it either. He’d just assumed it was another facet of Alex’s insatiable need to understand things; he hadn’t realised it was important.

I've carried this song in my mind, the Arthur-from-beyond-the-grave fic, have one of the many MANY passages that made me cry to write lmfao:

You don’t need to find Orion, Arthur wants to tell him. I’m in every constellation, in your heart, in your soul. I’m here. I’m always here. But Henry can’t hear him.

Schitt's Creek

Wander Where They Will, aka the swans fic:

It felt like only a moment later that something woke him, though the pitch-black room made it obvious it had been several hours since he dozed off. It had been so long since he was in such close proximity to other people that David didn’t realise what he was hearing, at first. The gasp that rang out in the silence made his eyes snap open and his body tense up, and there was a thump and a high-pitched, muffled moan before the realisation slammed into him. He shifted in the bed, trying to block out the sounds out of a sense of… privacy, he supposed, or decorum. That must be why his stomach was clenching, so tight he could barely breathe. Patrick, it seemed, approached lovemaking the way David has seen him approach everything else—quiet, determined, methodical. All the noises coming from their corner of the cottage seemed to be Rachel’s; only a rhythmic panting betrayed Patrick’s part in the process. Even at the end, he barely made a sound. David couldn’t help thinking, as silence filled the cottage and pulled him backwards into sleep, that it was a terrible shame; that everyone deserved the kind of pleasure that rushed through them, untamed and uncontrollable.

Femslash February 2021, where I decided one entry needed to not only be a drabble (100 words exactly) like every other day's prompt, but ALSO a sonnet:

A princess resides in a castle fair Who Stevie beholds when sneaking ashore— With aquamarine eyes and golden hair, She’s all that Stevie is so longing for. If she had legs, or the princess a tail, Perhaps Stevie could be part of her world— But fate's harsh currents their union assails, Separating them with an eddy's whirl. So Stevie lingers, and watches, and dreams About a union between sea and land, Wishing it weren't as complex as it seems For them to lie together on the sand. But unbeknownst, a princess dreams, too— Of a raven-haired mermaid, pure and true.

And all the rest's illusion, the fic where Patrick works through his feelings about the word queer and every single comment made me cry:

And that’s really the crux of the issue, because it’s not that he’s uncomfortable in his sexuality. If he was, that would be easier to explain — right from the start, David never put a label onto him. Patrick was the one who’d whispered I’m gay into the sliver of space between them that night at Stevie’s, and David had just given him the same easy smile and nod that Patrick’s sure he would have received if instead his declaration had been I’m bi or I’m pan or I don’t know right now. His discomfort is more of a nagging, deep-seated fear that he’s not entitled to queer; that because he’s never been called a slur or worried about whether or not it was safe to kiss his partner in public or even come out to his parents, the word isn’t his to reclaim.

I haven't met the new me yet, the fic where I just dragged everyone onto the Jake/Rachel train with me by force, no I don't care that they never met in canon:

Despite herself, her eyes keep finding her way back to one of the pool players. He’s tall and well-built, with a close-cropped beard; he carries himself easily, joking with his friend, the flannel shirt stretching across his back as he lines up his next shot. When he stands up after sinking the ball easily, he turns around too quickly for Rachel to pretend she was looking elsewhere and their eyes meet. The smile he gives her isn’t quite cocky, though it’s close; it’s just confident, and confidence has always done something for her. She smiles back before picking up her beer, draining the last of it and trying not to grin around the neck of the bottle when his eyes drop to her throat as she does. She’d forgotten how good it can feel, to flirt with a stranger across a… okay, this isn’t exactly a crowded room, but still. Across a room. She doesn’t make any secret of watching as the guy and his friend finish up the game, the one she’s watching sinking the black easily with several of the stripes still on the table, and he hands his cue to his friend before striding over to the bar and leaning over to get the bartender’s attention.

Meet me out at the end of my rope, aka angstapalooza. The outline @ships-to-sail gave me for the end of chapter three just read "David leaves after possibly the most tender but heart wrenching kiss they’ve ever had, that’s ever been written, ever, in the history of written kissing" and then I had to... write that???

Patrick puts the box down gently before he holds his hand out. When David places the key in his palm Patrick wraps his fingers around David’s, their palms pressed together. Despite everything, it still feels like coming home; before he quite realises what he’s doing he presses Patrick back into the doorframe, his free hand wrapping around Patrick’s neck as he pours all the emotion swirling around inside him into one final kiss. Patrick, for his part, tugs David in close, his fingers winding through David’s hair as he shakes under David’s touch. When David finally pulls away he can see Patrick’s cheeks are wet with tears, and he knows his are too. He doesn’t know if they’re his own or Patrick’s or both. Patrick stares at him, his tone helpless. “You’re the love of my life, David Rose.” David closes his eyes as his resolve almost breaks. When he opens them again, Patrick’s face is blurry and indistinct in front of him as he tries not to let more tears fall. “No one is ever going to love me the way you did.” The words are choked out, but when Patrick opens his mouth to reply David shakes his head to stop him. “But no one ever lied to me like you did, either.”

How much love will you happily take -- I apparently awakened a humiliation kink in multiple people with this one and I will never not be proud of that 🤣

“No, that’s not— it’s not for lack of trying.” David being so kind about this is making it ten times harder to spit the words out and he drops his gaze, picking at Stevie’s faded bedspread so he doesn’t have to see the look in David’s eyes. He can feel the all-too-familiar crackle of humiliation crawling up his spine, knows his embarrassment is clear on his face, and it makes his throat tighten and his stomach clench and his cock twitch and he hates it, loves it, wants to poke at it like a bruise until it consumes him. “It’s been, um, a size issue?” There’s a beat, and then David is placing a gentle finger under his chin and turning Patrick to face him. His face is warm and open and Patrick likes him so much it’s kind of terrifying; he desperately needs this night not to end up another disaster.  “That,” David says, voice soft, “is only an issue if we make it an issue. And I don’t plan on making it an issue.”

Wearing glass slippers, I got my Chucks, the Stevie/Alexis tattoo/flower shop AU my beloved:

“Did people send you flowers when your aunt passed away?” Alexis asks pointedly.  “Yeah.” She doesn’t say, It was a huge pain in the ass, actually, because I had to throw them all out when they died, but from the look Alexis is giving her at least some of that must show on her face.  “Congratulations and commiserations,” she says slowly. “That’s when everyone wants to give flowers: births, deaths, weddings, anniversaries. It’s like, human nature or whatever. There’s something…” she takes a deep breath. “It’s a sign of trust, I think. To be a tiny part of someone’s biggest moments like that. Even if just from the sidelines.” Stevie has tattooed children’s names and wedding bands, handprints and pawprints and important dates. She’s never thought about it quite like that before. “I get that,” she murmurs. 

Great Acoustics, aka the cast did a Zoom thing in-character during Covid and had a throwaway line to justify David and Patrick not being in the same room and I just entered a fugue state and wrote porn about it in like an hour:

They make it ten days before their first noise complaint, which is frankly about nine days longer than David expected. They’ve been worse than usual, to be fair, with something as simple as a lockable door apparently now an aphrodisiac to both of them. Patrick goes about twelve shades of red when the official notice is pushed under their door, and then the pillow makes a reappearance.  It’s all very fucking hot, actually, seeing buttoned-up, in-control Patrick reduced to a whimpering, begging, uncontrollable mess. Eventually, David manages to convince him that if something must go in his mouth during sex, there are several better options. No, not that. Well, obviously, sometimes that.

A focused moment made, kinkverse part one that I very much intended to be a oneshot lmfao RIP

For a few moments, the only sound is their combined harsh breathing as they recover. Almost before David realises what’s happening he’s being pulled gently to his feet, and then Patrick is framing David’s face in his hands and kissing him soundly. And David’s been kissed a lot during a scene, and a few times before one, but never once has someone kissed him in a sex club after they’ve already come. He lets out a startled but not unhappy yelp and Patrick takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue into David’s now-open mouth, chasing the taste of himself, making them both groan. Finally Patrick releases him with one last, almost chaste, kiss. He drops one hand but leaves the other on David’s cheek, gazing carefully at him, his face soft and open. “I’ve never done that before, with a guy,” Patrick confesses after a moment of silence.  David raises an eyebrow, quirks a lip. “The flogging or the blowjob?” “Uh,” Patrick scratches the back of his head as he flushes slightly. “Both? But also, um.” His eyes flicker down to David’s lips and back up, and David gives a soft little Oh of understanding.  “Baby dom and baby gay, huh?”

Your heart is keeping time with me, the 50 First Dates AU that I think has the best ending I've ever written? So, uh, spoilers-ish, I guess:

This isn’t a romantic comedy. There will be no miraculous, medically impossible recovery. Every morning for the rest of his life, David will wake up and have to be told that he has a husband he doesn’t recognise; a husband who loves him. But after he’s been told, Patrick will set out to prove it to him, with laughter and music and patient understanding. And because love is so much more than conscious memory, David will go to sleep each night in Patrick’s arms, safe and secure and content. Even though it’s not a film or a fairytale, they will still live happily ever after.

Other

We always walked a very thin line, aka the fic I furiously spite-wrote in three hours after watching Happiest Season lmfao:

When they were little, they were convinced if they practised enough they could develop some sort of psychic link; talk to each other over long distances without tying up the phone lines their dads always used for important business calls. They gave up eventually, but Riley finds herself desperately wishing for the talent now. Come on, Harper. Be braver for her than you were for me. “She’s lying!” The words burst hysterically out of Harper’s mouth, and Riley’s heart sinks.

We knew we were the fortunate ones, because obviously I watched episode 3 of The Last Of Us and immediately started writing, what do you take me for?

He knows that the last four years have been kinder to him than to almost anyone else; he also knows that he doesn’t look like those men in the magazines, the ones he used to drive thirty miles out of his way to buy, shoulders hunched and not making eye contact with the store clerk in case he found himself subjected to judgement — or worse, conversation.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Movie Nights with Bradley Bradshaw

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Headcanon in which you have popcorn movie nights once a week with your aviator friends.

CW: None, just a bit of fluff

A/N: I feel like I haven't posted Rooster content in a while so I thought I'd share this idea with y'all even though it obviously isn't fully formed. Let me know if you're interested in other half-baked ideas and headcanons 😅

Also, the season of scary movies is upon us, so I thought this might be fitting. Enjoy!

Week 1: Bradley likes you so he sits as far away from you as humanly possible. You take the centre of the couch, flanked by Phoenix and Bob. Bradley takes the floor.

Week 2: Bradley offers to grab your drink (and everybody else’s so it doesn’t appear suspicious). He sits on the same couch as you this time, but he’s in the corner. When Phoenix stands to use the bathroom and there’s a gap between you and him, he gives you a small smile and you offer him some popcorn. He takes a handful from your bowl, so you shift closer to share. When Phoenix returns, she’s wearing a smug smirk.

Week 3: You plop down onto the couch beside Bradley, completely unaware of how alarmed he is at the idea of sitting beside you throughout the entire evening. He's very still for the majority of the time, although you do end up occasionally rubbing shoulders and, by the end of the night, Bradley is both elated and extremely frustrated.

Week 4: Bradley sits down next to you, handing you your favorite drink. He gives you a sheepish grin when both Phoenix and Bob decide to join you on the same couch, squeezing you and Bradley into the corner. It’s a scary movie, so you end up gripping Bradley’s arm for the better part of the evening, hiding your face behind his shoulder a few times.

"You're missing the best part," he says with a massive grin.

"Tell me when the best part is over," you whimper.

He rubs your back with his hand, chuckling into your hair as you squeal. Anytime the film becomes too frightening and you press your body into his side is the best part in his books.

You're watching the screen with an anxious expression and the moment the music swells, you turn away frantically, burying your face into Bradley's neck.

He holds still, afraid that any movement on his part might scare you off – more even than the slasher flick. When he feels your body tense up against his at the sound of the screams coming from the television, he puts his hand over yours on your lap, squeezing it gently in his grasp. "You're okay," he mutters, his mouth right over your forehead.

You clutch his hand as his thumb sweeps lightly over your knuckles, and he weaves his fingers through yours, trying to relax your grip. You murmur something incoherent into the crook of his neck and Bradley closes his eyes, his embrace tightening around your shoulders. "Just so you know," you say in a soft voice. "You're not allowed to leave me alone tonight."

Bradley lets out a slow breath over your face. "Wouldn't dream of it," he responds.

A/N: I dunno guys, this concept has been bouncing around in my head and I wanted to get it down so I wouldn't be tempted to write a whole story around it haha Hope you liked it!

Rooster Tag List:

The rest of the list is in the comments. Sorry if I've missed you!

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

@iamabeautifulperson18

@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

@mavrellover91

@gingerbreadandpaper

@lonelywitchv2

@cashwheelersgirl89

@callsign-jupiter

@kindablackenedsuperhero

@everything-i-love-in-life

@malindacath

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@wandering-wah

@olliepig

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@footwatter

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@bcon24

@lovemesomevesey

@daydreamingalways

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@olivethenerd16

@kaitlynw011

@l-rexter45

@xoxo-lyss

@beebslebobs

@dracosluvbot

@peoniarose

@annedub

[shadowofchwe]

treacherous temptation | vernon chwe

Sneaking into your enemy's room with murderous intent doesn't exactly go as planned once you hear the name leaving his lips in his sleep.

🗡️ Pairing: prince!vernon (sovereignsin!vernon) x princess!reader

🗡️ Word Count: 4.5k

🗡️ Genre: Enemies to lovers (still emphasis on the enemies), mainly pwp, smut, royal au

🗡️ Rating: 18+

🗡️ Warnings: Explicit language, mention and presence of weapons (dagger), mention of wanting to murder, overheard sex dreams, explicit sexual content, brief somnophilia, handjob, dirty talk, rough handling, oral (m receiving), hair pulling, face fucking, praise, hard degradation (uses of bitch and whore), grinding, thigh riding, making out, possessive Vernon, spit kink makes an appearance, mutual masturbation, teasing, edging, cum play, cum eating, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (pls be safe), riding, spanking, groping, marking/biting/scratching, dagger is held against throat mid fucking (meant to be more threatening than anything), threats of violence, forcefully disarming weapon, mention of minor injury and blood being drawn, mention of conflicting feelings and fear, rough sex, restraining hands (f receiving), it's kinda soft at the end, that enemies to lovers line is getting real blurry

A/N: I'm back with more prince Silvernon! This couple is just so fun and intriguing to write and I honestly have a million ideas for them lmao. This is a follow up to sovereign sin, but I also think it can be read as a standalone too. Really wanted to post something today because it's my 1 year Vernaversary of ulting him so I hope you enjoy this if you decide to read it 🥰 As always thank you so much to everyone who reads my stuff and supports me it means more than I could ever say 💙

Masterlist

It was late. The entire castle slumbering in silence. Everyone except you, who'd been tossing and turning for hours at this point. It had become impossible to tell if you couldn't sleep because you were angry, or if you were angry because you couldn't sleep. All you knew was that right now, you were fucking furious.

It might've had something to do with the fact that that bastard, Vernon, hadn't sought you out a single time that week. The arrogant prince had barely acknowledged your existence for days. And you hated just how much his behavior had gotten under your skin. Because it had been too long since he'd been under your skin. You were aching with a desire, and a craving, that only he could satisfy. You longed to have him drag you back down into the dark with him, greedily feeding into the worst parts of each other.

You glanced at the door to your chambers, half expecting to see the silver prince slipping into your room. But the door gave nothing away, and fresh anger flared inside of you. You swung your legs out from underneath the heavy covers before planting your feet on the floor. You reached for your dagger from your bedside table, quickly strapping it against your thigh underneath your thin nightgown.

Peeking out your door revealed an empty hallway, and a dangerously tempting opportunity. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't fantasized about sneaking into the prince's room, taking your dagger, and slitting his throat while he slept. And just because it wasn't a fantasy you were planning on carrying out tonight didn't mean you couldn't still have some fun and threaten the bastard with your blade at his neck. Make sure he knew you were not one to be fucked with. The look of surprise and fear in his dark eyes…it would be enough. Enough to satisfy you for tonight.

Your knowledge of all the castle's secret passageways made it almost too easy to sneak into the prince's quarters, completely unseen and undetected. Moonlight blanketed the room, falling on the prince, peacefully asleep in his bed. You crept closer as you kept one hand against the dagger concealed under your nightgown. You stopped at the sight of Vernon's bare chest, watching it rise and fall with each deep breath.

You internally cursed him for looking so breathtaking in his sleep. You couldn't remember ever noticing how long and delicate his eyelashes were. His silver hair looked soft and slightly ruffled from his pillow. You wanted to feel it between your fingers. Tug and twist the strands to pull all those sinful sounds from him. All you had to do was reach out and- No. You shook your head in an effort to clear the lustful thoughts. Not what you were here for. Not tonight anyway.

You were standing next to his bed now, staring down at his sleeping figure as you gently lifted up your gown to expose your hidden dagger. The prince began to stir suddenly, mumbling something, and your fingers froze where you gripped the thin fabric. You held your breath, waiting to see if he was actually going to wake. Another muffled sound escaped him, and you found yourself leaning closer to try and discern what he was saying.

"Y/N."

He moaned your name sofly, and your heart began to thud violently against your rib cage.

Shit.

Now that you had heard it, it was impossible to miss the needy, breathy way your name was leaving him again and again. Your head was growing hazy again, and you could feel the arousal gathering between your thighs. Damn this prince.

Curious desire flooded your veins as you reached out to carefully pull back his covers. You hissed at the sight of his cock, hardening and straining against the fabric of his silky bottoms. Vernon said your name louder, more desperately. An entirely different type of wicked thought bloomed inside your mind. You swung yourself up onto the bed to straddle one of his thighs before you could think better of it, the prince groaning underneath you. But he still didn't wake.

Your hand hovered over the top of his pants, waiting to see if it was still you he was dreaming about.

"Fuck, Y/N." he practically growled in his sleep.

You didn't waste any more time before slipping your hand beneath the material to wrap around his length, giving him a teasing squeeze. You used your other hand to tug down his bottoms enough to expose his hard cock. The prince squirmed underneath you as you began stroking him slowly.

"Dreaming about me are we?" you taunted softly, leaning down so that he could feel your warm breath on his skin, "Naughty little prince."

You let a string of spit fall from your tongue to his tip before using your hand to coat the rest of his length, twisting the sensitive flesh. Your thumb rubbed over his slit, and Vernon suddenly jolted awake, sitting upright and trying to take in the sight before his eyes. You grinned deviously back at him as you moved your hand faster. He fisted the sheets in a death grip, "Fuck. Princess, is that really you? Am I still dreaming?"

You chuckled darkly before slowly moving your gaze up to his face, your mouth grazing the skin at the top of his thigh.

"Or maybe it's a nightmare." you whispered, trapping his flesh between your teeth.

Vernon hissed out a curse that quickly became a snarl when you licked a stripe along the underside of his cock.

"Do you want my mouth, prince?" you teased him further.

The prince's fingers were digging into your jaw a second later, and your skin burned under his touch.

"Until you're choking on me, your highness."

He used his hold on you to roughly pry your mouth open. You played along, letting the bastard think he was in control as he guided his cock past your lips.

Vernon hummed, "If only all your other suitors could see you like this, with your mouth full of me. I bet then those fools would truly know their place."

Familiar irritation stirred inside you at his smug words, and your teeth scraped against him in warning. His hand immediately left your jaw to tangle in your hair before yanking you off of him with a pop. You gasped when he gave another harsh tug to pull your head up higher to make you meet his eyes. The intensity in the prince's dark irises nearly burned a hole through you.

"Though it would seem, that you still do not know yours." Vernon growled, his nails digging into your scalp, "You vile woman. Allow me to remind you, princess."

The sadistic smirk he flashed you had you wishing you actually had bitten him. Bastard. But it was also impossible to deny the way heat flooded your core at the way he watched you like a predator stalking its prey. He had you trapped for the moment, and you both knew it.

You had just barely started to open your mouth to get in one last quip, when Vernon used his grip on your hair to shove your head down, pushing his cock all the way to the back of your throat in one go. The prince groaned in satisfaction as you gagged and spluttered around him.

"Fuck. Always let me ruin your mouth. Just like I ruin your sweet little cunt."

His hand held you down as his hips bucked against your face, reducing you to a mixture of drool and tears.

"Such an obedient little princess, shit." he grunted, and you cursed yourself for the pathetic, muffled whimper that slipped out.

Desperate for some sort of stimulation yourself, you began grinding on Vernon's thigh that you were still straddling. You nearly sobbed at the friction, and the prince hissed above you.

"Fuck. You're soaking. Rutting against my leg like a bitch in heat."

His thrusts were finally starting to lose their rhythm as you continued to choke and cough around his length. Your movements grew more frantic, your own orgasm building fast as you moaned brokenly. Vernon tugged you up by your hair once more, and his other hand stilled the motion of your hips.

Fresh tears slid down your cheeks from the loss of stimulation, and you tried to greedily suck in as much air as you could. It was pointless though because the prince gripped the back of your neck and pulled you to his mouth, his tongue diving in hungrily to taste himself on you. You groaned in response, aching for the stimulation of his thigh against your core again. His hand on your waist was unyielding though, clutching the fabric of your nightgown so tight that the material was bunched up in his fist.

His lips left your own, but you both stayed there, just panting warm air into each other's mouths.

"Remember, your highness," Vernon rasped out as his hand curved around your cheek, his thumb briefly brushing across your now swollen bottom lip, "your pleasure belongs to me."

You glared back at him fiercely, "I belong only to myself. No part of me will ever be yours. You would do well to remember that."

You hated how you sounded so much less threatening than usual since tonight's exchange had literally left you breathless. As well as burning for some sort of release. Still half dazed, you felt Vernon's fingers at your jaw again, even rougher than before. You scowled defiantly at him, refusing to back down from his challenge like always. No matter how badly you were craving the satisfaction of an orgasm.

Fire flickered in the prince's eyes, a promise to burn you alive.

"Open your mouth, whore." he snarled, using his grip to part your lips once more before angrily spitting into your mouth.

Vile bastard. Maybe you would end up killing him tonight after all. If the need trying to claw its way out of your skin didn't kill you first.

"If you want me to even think about letting you come, then I suggest you do as I say, princess. You can start by swallowing." Vernon instructed, smug grin nearly splitting his handsome face.

You seriously considered spitting back in his face just to spite him, but you simultaneously couldn't stand the thought of leaving here with nothing. So you decided to play nice, at least for now. Until the prince let his guard down again.

You made a show of swallowing, and clenched around nothing at the desire in Vernon's eyes as he watched your throat. He raised a waiting eyebrow, and it took everything in you not to lunge at the man in a violent rage.

"Show me, princess."

His condescension was grating on your last nerve, but you opened your mouth and held out your tongue to give him what he wanted.

"Good girl." he praised before unexpectedly flexing his thigh against you.

You cried out and splayed your hands over his stomach to keep yourself from toppling over. The brief rush of pleasure was gone all too soon, but the prince stalled your hips before you could chase more of that feeling. You were going to stab him.

"Now, here's what I want you to do. Take off that shift, or I can rip it off if you prefer." he teased, his fingers playing with the material.

The bastard had already ruined enough of your wardrobe, so you slipped the gown over your head before Vernon could act on his threat. His teeth dug into his lip as he drank in your moonlit figure. One hand was gripping your waist, while the other wrapped around his neglected cock as he began stroking himself. You let out a small gasp, mesmerized at the way his fist pumped his length.

"You keep fucking my leg like a dog, but you can't come before me. Think you can handle that, princess?" the prince challenged you, his tongue poking against the skin of his cheek.

"Yeah, I think I can fucking handle that." you growled in response, immediately returning to grinding against his muscular thigh.

You sighed out, your head falling back now that you were finally able to build up to a consistent rhythm, "Fuck, fuck, Vernon."

He groaned, his hand moving faster, and your hips following suit. After being denied an orgasm for so long, you knew it wouldn't take much more to push you over the edge. Vernon flexed against you again, and you almost lost it, but you forced yourself to hold back since he hadn't come yet. The prince chuckled at your efforts.

"Patience, princess." he chastised you, driving the point home when he slowed the movements of his hand around his cock.

"Fucker." you hissed before making your hips match the new pace.

Otherwise you were definitely going to lose this little game, and that just wasn't an option.

"Such colorful words for a future queen. I really do bring out the worst in you, don't I, your highness?" Vernon taunted you further, stroking himself faster again.

He was panting heavily, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He had to be getting close, just a little more. You decided to try and help him along with your words.

"Close, prince?" you queried playfully, slowly dragging yourself over his bare skin, "Imagining it's my hand instead? Or maybe my mouth? Or are you pretending you're inside me? I bet you're just dying to feel me around you. All warm and wet. Am I right?"

"Fuck!" Vernon swore loudly, his hips bucking up as he frantically fucked his fist.

Your grin of satisfaction was short lived because his muscle tensed underneath you right against your clit, and you had to bite back a scream. You matched his desperate movements, the need to come starting to overpower the need to win.

Your furious gazes bore into each other, neither one of you willing to back down now.

"Don't you dare come." the prince warned, his tone venomous.

"Fuck you." you seethed back, fingers harshly digging into the flesh of his thigh.

Just when you were about to give in and accept your loss, Vernon's hands flew to your waist, halting the movement of your hips.

"Vernon, what the fuck?" you snapped, resisting the urge to draw the dagger still sheathed at your side.

You didn't think he'd even noticed that you'd kept it on you, stupid prince. You glared down at him in contempt, squirming in his strong grip. Like hell this bastard was going to hold your pleasure captive any longer.

"Fuck." the prince hissed, "Stay still."

You were trembling in his hold, both from anger and from the repetitive denial of your orgasm that you could practically taste, "Go to hell, prince."

"Do as I say, princess, or I won't let you come. Just sit there and take what I give you, and don't you fucking move." Vernon ground out, one of his hands leaving your waist to wrap back around his cock that still looked painfully hard.

Good. The bastard deserved the pain. But on the other hand, if he didn't let you come, you were going to throw the royalest of fits. You knew Vernon would never let you live it down either. Damn him.

You stayed as still as your body would allow since you couldn't get yourself to stop shaking completely. The prince looked back at you with focused arrogance as he pumped himself harder. A shiver ran through you at the shudder that escaped him right before hot spurts of cum began coating your breasts and neck. A strip even landed across your still swollen lips and Vernon moaned at the state of you.

"Fuck, princess, you are a sight. All covered in me." he remarked, voice husky and dark.

You made sure his eyes were on you as you sensuously licked him off your lips, and the prince's eyes nearly blew out.

"Shit, Y/N. You'll be the death of me yet." Vernon groaned, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over your hip that he was still gripping.

Your heart beated erratically in your chest. Why was it that such small things fucked with your head so much? Then again, you were still feeling out of your mind from not being able to come.

"Vernon."

You said his name a single time. A question with an underlying plea. The prince smirked in understanding, "Go ahead, princess. Think you've earned your pleasure."

You were already grinding against his thigh with reckless abandon by the time the words finished leaving his mouth. This time, he helped guide you with both hands on your waist, flexing against you with each rock of your hips. The stimulation was so delicious you wanted to cry, and you could feel your release beginning to crest over you.

"Oh, fuck, Vernon." you whined as you desperately chased your pleasure.

The prince hissed, his fingers digging harder into your skin.

"Come for me now, your highness." Vernon beckoned, and you were letting out a sob as you fell to pieces a moment later.

He kept a firm grip on you to keep you upright as you rode out your high. You stared down at your hands covering Vernon's stomach, laughing slightly as you tried to catch your breath.

"Wow…that was…wow."

The prince gave you just the hint of a smile, and you felt the room spin.

"I love how articulate you are after a good orgasm, princess." Vernon teased you, and you felt yourself beginning to grow shy all of a sudden.

You reached beside you for your discarded nightgown, using it to wipe yourself clean. You would just steal some of the prince's clothes to wear to sneak back into your room. You let the garment drop to the floor, and Vernon suddenly shifted underneath you, swearing under his breath.

You thought maybe you had accidentally hurt him, but then you saw the real reason for the prince's discomfort. He was fully hard, again.

"Shit, Vernon." you whispered, and his line of sight followed your own.

"Well, can you blame me? After feeling you grind your dripping cunt all over my thigh." he voiced, his deep timbre settling in your core.

You lifted your eyes to his face, and saw the hunger still swirling in his irises. And you realized that your appetite hadn't been satiated yet either. Feeling like a woman possessed, you raised yourself from his thigh before shifting to properly straddle him with your legs on either side of his body. You held the prince's gaze as you slowly sank down onto him, both of you moaning in unison.

"Greedy bitch." Vernon hissed, one of his hands coming up to roughly palm at your breast while the other reached around you to give your ass a harsh smack.

You felt set aflame from within as you began riding him in earnest. The prince groaned and panted below you as he alternated between groping your chest and your behind.

"Think I like having you at my mercy, prince." you breathed, smirking down at him.

A growl rumbled in Vernon's throat, but whatever his reply was gonna be died on his tongue the moment you switched your focus to grinding on his cock.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck."

His eyelids fluttered as you tortuously rolled your hips, your nails scratching against the skin of the prince's chest.

"Fuck, you're gonna kill me."

"Well, you know, prince," you began softly, leaning over him to run your tongue along his infuriatingly perfect collar bones, making Vernon shiver underneath you, "that was the idea."

You marked his skin with your mouth, distracting him as you carefully slid your dagger free of its sheath. Vernon's hand twisted into your hair, pulling you up to claim your mouth. The way he practically swallowed you nearly had you dropping your blade and losing yourself.

You tightened your grip on the hilt, your fist digging into the sheets below. Your mouth disconnected from the prince's as you pushed yourself back upright, a string of saliva trailing between your lips. Irritation flashed in Vernon's eyes as his fingers pulled harder at your strands, "Get back here, princess."

You had your dagger against his throat in one quick movement, and the way his cock twitched inside of you didn't go unnoticed.

"As I said, prince, I like having you at my mercy."

"Filthy whore." he spat back at you, but his face gave away just how fucked out he was from the sudden change.

You laughed softly and gave a single roll of your hips, and the choked moan he let out betrayed the prince further.

"Careful, darling, or I might just have to cut out your tongue." you taunted, starting to feel drunk off the power you currently had over him.

Vernon had barely started to open his mouth to retaliate, when you began fucking him with renewed vigor. Each rock of your hips made your blade bite into his skin just a little bit more, but not enough to bleed. Yet, anyway.

Near animalistic snarls and growls escaped the prince, both of his hands digging into your ass hard enough to bruise as he encouraged your desperate movements.

"Now, you listen to me, prince. I am not one to be trifled with. And I will not tolerate any more of your childish games. Fuck with me again, and I'll make sure my next nightly visit to your chambers isn't quite so pleasant."

"It really, fuck, drove you that crazy to go without my attention for a few days? I think you might be growing a little sweet on me, your highness." Vernon piped up, sporting a cheeky little grin.

"Silence." you snapped, tightening your grip on your dagger, "I refuse to entertain such delusions."

In a blur of motion, Vernon's hand came up to wrap around your wrist, wrenching your arm to the side. You gasped sharply, but it wasn't in reaction to him. It was because of the red bubbling up from a cut on his neck. Your blade had barely knicked him, but distress filled you all the same.

"Drop it, princess."

The warning in his voice pulled your attention back to where he was gripping your wrist that was dangling over the side of the bed. You glanced at his neck once more before releasing your grip on your dagger and letting the weapon drop to the floor.

It was silent except for the sounds of your shared ragged breathing. The prince let go of your wrist, and your trembling fingers immediately went to the streak of crimson on his neck.

"Vernon." you whispered into the space between you.

"Please, your highness, no tears. It's only a graze." he teased you, and you just blinked down at him.

The prince chuckled softly before making you yelp as he maneuvered himself upright, bringing the two of you face to face as his strong arms encircled you.

"You act as if we haven't left worse marks on each other. Or do I need to remind you, princess?" Vernon went on, and you caught sight of his mischievous smirk just before his head dipped down, silver filling your vision.

His lips closed around your nipple, earning a sigh from you as you let your head fall back. And just like that, he had you again.

"Now that there's nothing else to distract us, I can finally fuck you properly." he murmured against your skin, his tongue flicking over your perked bud.

You rocked your hips in response, fingers threading through his hair. It suddenly scared you how intimate all of this felt, and you just hoped Vernon wouldn't be able to read it on your face. You ended up lucking out because he pulled out before handling you like a ragdoll and flipping you onto your stomach.

"What the hell do you think you're do-" you started to say, but your words were muffled when the prince grabbed you by your hair and pushed your face into the sheets.

He jerked your hips up a moment later and landed a hard slap on your ass that had you groaning underneath him. You felt him lean over you, his warm breath falling over your back, "I'm going to take you like this. And you're going to scream into those sheets. Wake up the whole fucking castle for all I care."

You bit back a curse as he buried himself inside you once again. Vernon kept one hand on your head, while the other secured your hands behind your back as he fucked you like he had something to prove. The sound of skin on skin, coupled with your quieted sobs and Vernon's stuttered breath, filled the bedroom obscenely.

He had all the control right now. All you could do was literally lay there and take it. Each bruising thrust had you feeling more and more out of your mind. Your orgasm crashed down on you without any warning, and you released a scream into the sheets before going limp underneath him. Vernon growled, using both of his hands to lift your hips back up as he continued pounding into you.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're gonna be so full of me, this little cunt of yours will be dripping for days." he grunted, the rhythm of his strokes becoming erratic.

You moaned brokenly, your body completely spent. Vernon hovered above you, pressing his chest to your back as he shuddered next to your ear. He came a moment later, and then practically collapsed on top of you.

"Is this an assassination attempt?" you asked, trying to hide your tired smile in case he could somehow see it.

Vernon laughed, and the sound vibrated against your back, warming you from the inside out.

"You did try to kill me first, remember?" the prince quipped back.

"Knowing you and what an insufferable bastard you are, I highly doubt that's the first time a woman has held a dagger to your throat. I know it certainly won't be the last."

Vernon playfully bit your shoulder, and you exclaimed before squirming out from underneath him. The two of you laid facing each other, side by side. Moonlit strands fell over his dark eyes, and you found yourself reaching out to brush them back from his face. The prince looked at you curiously, and you quickly retracted your hand, flushing furiously in the dark.

"Sorry." you mumbled as you casted your gaze towards the sheets between you.

"You know," Vernon started, and you glanced back up to meet his eyes, "if I had my way, princess, there's no way I'd ever let you leave my bed."

You were quickly brushing off his words because of how much they terrified you, "Well, with me, prince, I guarantee you'll never have your way."

You thought you saw hurt flicker across his features for a split second, but then he was sporting that signature cocky grin again.

"Good thing I love a challenge."

That may have been the case for him, but you weren't so sure that it was a challenge you were up for anymore. A different kind of flame was beginning to ignite inside of you, and it felt more threatening and more consuming than that of your blazing hate. Stronger than your furious lust. It sparked, bright and hot inside of your chest. And it promised to burn you alive.

[kylekirkwoods]

‘If you have questions the asks are open’ you know what I’m about to ask about o7, beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair. Or tbh any of your other wips I like hearing people talk about their wips :3c

(I was half tempted to just dm you but you said asks so ask it is >:))

erika, you've given me the amazing opportunity to rant about my wips/fics so i am going to utilize it. i'll tell you about the beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair first, and everything else below the cut (for context, here is that wip summary poll). :DDDDDD

beautiful woman and her man who has never combed his hair this is my wag au for the fest!!!! i have talked to many a friend (including you) about this wip, and everyone seems to be very excited which i am happy about :)) basically, it's loscar with trans girl logan as the wag. they're very sweet and in love and it is simultaneously annoying and adorable to all of their friends. the main cast also includes max fewtrell (my beloved) as oscar's teammate at mclaren, lando norris as logan's bestie and max's wag, fred vesti as the most amazing supportive friend anyone could ask for, and a few other things that i am still working out (lawnsonoda is a very real thing that may or may not be included in this fic). i plan for it to be a semi linear narrative, by having the 2023 f1 season as the main thing but with flashbacks, social media, and other things sprinkled throughout. you have seen some of my outrageous planning and this will be a behemoth when i am done. i'm so excited!!!!!

gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss, george russell <3 imagine with me: george russell was born georgiana russell. so she's like if irl george was 50 times more neurotic and worried about what people thought of her. it will also be secret relationship gax (gasp... tuser gaxpodium writing gax... crazy...) and overprotective girl dad toto.

can the ghost of enzo ferrari fix my relationship? catholicism and being italian go hand in hand, so we're translating that religious fervor into f1. teams have a patron god (usually someone important to that brand or team) and surprise surprise, enzo ferrari is the patron god of the scuderia ferrari f1 team. your fealty and worship to your patron god will greatly impact your race results. this is angst central, with deeply heavy lore, so it will take me a while. and it focuses mainly on sewis and charlos (and how they deal with the whole "ferrari chewed me up and spit me out and you're still worshiping him" thing)

first a fan, then a teammate, then things got really mushy anyone else deeply impacted by leaf's dando video edit to "love of my life" by harry styles? no, only me? but i'm serious, this is entirely based on my visceral and life-changing reaction to that video. it changed me as a person...

uptight british bitch versus kind-of-rude dutch dickhead actually the first bit of rpf i ever wrote. it started as an assignment for my fiction 1 class (crazy...) and will probably be pretty short when i actually post it (no more than 10k words probably). it's a two part canon compliant gax fic, one part from george's perspective and one from max's. there's not much to say about this one since there's very little planning for it lol

what if three guys were in love but they were all stupid about it? it's geochalex. i feel like this should be obvious for me, but the three guys who are stupid and in love? geochalex. my notes rn for this fic mainly consist of the words "geochalex miscommunication!!!!!!!" so like yeah, that's the stupid right there

there are a few other wips/ideas that i forgot about when making the poll including a chalex apocalypse au that is inspired by the last of us (and also written for my fiction 1 class)

[zappedbyzabka]

i was looking through your posts and read your fic where kreese eats johnny’s ass like it saved his life. him or someone eating johnny’s pussy the same way?🫣👀

I love that you remember the tag skskskksksk. Thank you for the ask, anon! I was happy when I woke up and saw this.

ABSOLUTELY. You know all I talk about is Johnny’s boypussy and the way he tempts people to eat it good without really trying. I mean, one look at those legs and any man would picture spreading them apart like they would the wet cunt between those satin thighs. I also like the idea of Johnny only giving Kreese a taste of the honey so he gets hooked, then ghosting him entirely and never letting him have it again for some definitely not therapist-approved revenge.

And since I’m a lady fiend; Joanie Lawrence getting lapped up by her little Cobra girls that follow their princess all around. I’ll have to go into that one of these days.

ATE ATE ATE. The way he swings his hips when he walks....he’s a damn hypnotizing pendulum.

He loves the feeling of his pussy getting split by a hot, eager tongue. He loves when they slurp it up and moan into it like it’s fucking cake or ramen. In fact, that thing could earn him a wedding cake and diamond ring (though he prefers the plain ones with writing on them. Maybe something about how he’s sweet as fruit? Maybe one of his lover’s choosing, comparing him to Gems and other special things? Gold and flowers?)

Kreese considers himself a manly man, and other than chicken and carbs, they eat pussy.

He did Betsy’s, and all those loose broads way back when—he even ate Silver’s ass—and they were good, but nothing really compares to the dripping flower that is his obsession’s.

He loves finding his doll sleeping with his leg up and bent, rested on a pillow. Sleeping like he expected someone’s mouth to worship him awake.

And he’s right to expect. The Cobras fell for it every time as well, and every sleepover was a guarantee to have them at his cunt like starving coyote’s with a single songbird. John doesn’t mind Johnny’s high expectations when he’s benefitted from them too.

Kreese’s face is always stubbly if he doesn’t have a full beard, and it scrapes against Johnny’s sensitive, glistening lips and thighs. Leaves bubblegum pink and red-hot rashes that he’s long used to. It feels so good between his plush asscheeks too, which Kreese likes to bite as if they were ripe apples.

John needs nothing more than Johnny’s spasming tummy under his large hand when he’s smothering himself in that soaked heat, and the twitch of his hips when he’s swiping his face like a credit card—he’s addicted to the taste as if it’s candy made with cocaine.

Ohhh, Johnny in anything revealing like little robes and babydolls—OM NOM NOM, he’s got someone chomping at the fucking bit for his sweet little cunt.

Now wait till Daniel gets a drink of it, and he’ll be determined to have Johnny standing in his kitchen wearing nothing but a little polka dot robe even if he starts a fire. Maybe the smell of smoke and arson gets Johnny excited and Daniel can lick up his slick while his nice house burns down.

[factorialsotherfandoms]

\o/!! 2, 10, 19 for the ask game?

game!!!

2. Anything that you'd like to write but feel like you're unable to?

Yes!

... okay so just yes is kinda cheating huh

I think the biiig thing is I really struggle with chapter fic, and this can be extremely limiting for me sometimes? I might /want/ to write an extended 50 chapter fic covering like the intricacies or complications of coming to terms with mental illness or a new disability and learning to live with yourself but... I'd never finish it, and knowing me I'd leave it hanging in the worst places, and I'd just feel guilty? So. I tend to write scattershot in series, but... Some ideas I can't do justice with just a collection of short-to-medium fics, you know?

(Yes this is about Johnny, but this is also about Pac's mental health in XCOM au, or Philza's character development in the happy end au, or tbh a lot of break-it-less-fic ideas I have for OPD)

10. Top three favourite fic tropes.

Oooooh watch me forget all fic tropes ever...

Writing: loyalty, angst with a happy ending, somebody else lives/not everybody dies

Reading: wingfic, hurt/comfort, found family*

* not in the mother and father and kids sense, in the interwoven connection of platonic but socially inappropriately intimate relationships sense

(I do like reading what I like writing and vice versa, but... my writing tends to be angstier than what I read? Except atm atm brain demands fluff. I love especially what isn't an established trope but I call "soft angst", the quite conversations where characters sit with their trauma on their laps, the holding each other after a nightmare, the teeth pulling of getting a question answered... any of that)

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

RUDE you know as well as me how many "WIPs" I've got I can't or can barely share, plus I just posted an entire long snippet xD

I guess you can have some of another thing...

I cannot in good conscience do absolutely no context though - under cut for mild OPC spoilers

“You want me to call in for you?” he decides on, a simple enough task for either of them to do. “Before someone panics - you know how they are.”

It earns him a really shaky smile.

“No, it’s alright, I should-” Arthur downs the hot chocolate, then pushes himself up. He still seems shaky, but not so badly that he might immediately call. “Can I borrow a phone?”

“Landline’s on the living room end of the dining room cupboards.”

He expects another indignant question about why they have a landline - one Johnny is all pre-prepared for, sources bookmarked on his phone and all. Instead he gets a quiet “thanks”, and Arthur slipping out of the room.

Never mind.

Johnny takes the time to cut another carrot and, thoroughly bored of that, tosses it in the pan. From the bottom of the fridge he pulls out a couple of packets of pre-cut veg. He opens them up, and tosses them in too. A random selection of spices, some soy sauce… Given how his arms are cramping, he does not turn on the heat.

It’s tempting, to go check on someone - to go see how Rubens is doing, or corner Arthur on the phone. Instead, he pushes the chopping board further onto the table, folds his arms into its place, and presses his head into him.

The physio might be upset with him later, but his spine is thanking him right now.

His arms, too, with a break from holding even themselves up.

He stays like that for a few minutes, simply breathing through the pain. In, and out, and in, and pretend your body does not feel like fire, and out.

He can take more painkillers with food - there’s bigger problems in the house than that right now.

And speaking of bigger problems, he can hear steps on the carpet nearby.

Sitting back up is not as easy as it should be, even pathetically weak as he is. His back will not just straighten, rather he has to use equally pained arms to push himself back up.

It’s fine though, it’s fine, what’s a little pain really?

[bitebitbonebare]

God fucking dammit I'm genuinely losing my fucking shit.

I wonder if he'd put up a fight. I wonder if I would have to hold him down myself, knee against his neck, to tie his hands behind his back. I wonder what curses I'd wring from him through this, if he'd gnash his teeth and threaten me with his face pressed into the concrete floor. Would I need to get his feet too? Kicking and swinging, trying to get away-- oh and what if he screams? Yelling for help, would I need to silence him? Keep him from biting? Do you muzzle someone like this? Do you keep them from saying anything-- what happens when I kick the breath out of him?

I's stand above him, my boot pressed against his cheek-- I hated the concrete floors until now and I think I how they shine with his spit as he bared his teeth.

How careful would I need to be to make sure he was the only one to know he was bested? How badly does he want to feel this days from this moment-- how badly do I want him to feel it? Better yet, I know that he would rather there not be a later to feel, I think he's imagined death like this in great detail when he found himself at my mercy.

What tools would I have at my disposal? I wonder how much a tazer costs. I wonder if I could figure out a way to hit him in such a way he briefly loses consciousness. I wonder if I could choke him until he sees those black stars.

Could I press my knee into his throat while I tried something new-- could I put out a little match on his ribs? He complained of the pain on of a rib tattoo but what if I could methodically burn a scar on the other side, or as a lovely accent? He wanted to be an unflinching and incredibly willing victim to someone's cigarette shoved into him. This should be nothing then, right? Right?

What could I use to leave creative bruises on him-- I often weild a cane, don't I? What would shards of a broken mirror look like dug into his legs? I wonder how carefully I could etch something into his skin. He's let me tattoo him before anyway, what's different about a knife then?

I wouldnt want to keep him on the floor I don't think. Would I be able to hurt him while his sits on his knees-- his bones digging into concrete, he's so proud of how small he is, nearly just bones anyway, sharp and sharp feeling in his own skin.

Oh! What if, in kicking him, it's hard enough to make him vomit? Do you think he'd do that just for me? Well I think he'd do it for anyone who hit him in that specific way, but in that moment I think I'd revel in knowing that I was the cause.

Do you think he'd need to be told that maybe it's a little pathetic to want to be hurt this way? Granted, I think it was a bit absurd for me to tell him that I wanted to beat him this way, but for him to respond in this way? I think I might have known the answer when he resisted the urge to flee. I'd have plenty of words for him if he would like them.

Oh! He also proudly announced how fast he was! Oh I'm quite happy for him. So proud. Makes me wish I could set him loose in a forest with traps-- oh a daydream for another post, maybe not for him.

He is acutely aware of how inpatient I can be. I wonder if he'd taunt me to give up how much I'd want to relish this. That I want this just as much as he does, but I want it to last. I want to take my time, I want to commit every moment to memory, I want to write something about this that he might stumble upon-- or I offer up enthusiastically and just for "critique" not as if I wanted him to remember the ache of it all, this would live on in his mind too, after all.

Oh, hah. Even better. If I'm careful, I could keep him exactly where I want him and get a recording of the entire thing. I don't care to know what he would do with footage like that.

I'm tempted by the idea to bite. I think biting would be my preferred means to draw blood. I could consider something else though. Either way I think I'd like to stain something or his as a souvenir. Wouldn't that be just so thoughtful of me?

Good fucking god the whole idea makes me dizzy. Does he know how excited I am? How caring I would be about it all-- not too caring that I'd be scared to hurt him, no-- but caring in the way that I want nothing more than to make him feel it, just how he wants. It's not just for him.

It's not just for him.

[queenimmadolla]

I know we have never met but I want to say that I’m so proud of you! Sometimes having an escape whether it be writing or for me, reading it can save lives. Having an escape is important and does help to cope sometimes. I’m so happy you’re in a better place and please don’t feel pressure to write if you don’t want too! Live your life! And I’ll be here whenever you choose to write next! ❤️

I’m smiling so hard right now, very teary but a good teary! Thank you so much. I know I complain about this place (and relish in what it used to be but I think most came see why I go back to that wonderful summer) but I really did and still do have a love for it.

It sparked a lot of things in me, I NEVER used to write this much, never even thought i could really, and it was such an outlet. If i could have provided anyone a fraction of what I got from writing, with my writing, then I am so satisfied with the time i spent here. I can’t ever give Eddie up, though. Even when i leave tumblr one day, i can’t really leave Eddie. My relationship with his character is just healthier now. Before, I would literally not eat, or eat very poorly (I have Crohn’s so I was always triggering flares), avoid going out into the world more than necessary, ruin my sleep schedule, and just generally isolate myself. All so I could have more time to write when I wasn’t working myself to death, just wanted to lose myself in him and Hawkins. Showers were taken at odd hours and not even remotely enjoyed, friends were ignored, it was just me, my google docs, and Eddie.

But it kept me alive during a very hard time in my life when I didn’t want to be, so I have zero regrets. It’s crazy how comfort characters can do that, cause he kept me going for so long and then that damn Lisa Frankenstein movie brought me back to life when it almost stopped being enough and now I live more so in the real world. And I’m taking better care of myself, making time for real world things, which sadly leaves me with a small chunk of time to write. I haven’t lost the passion entirely, just lost some time to feel all that passion because i have a fuck ton of WIPs and like maybe 2-3 (4 if I’m lucky) hours to write a day and like half of that time is spent trying to figure out what fic/idea I’m gonna work on and how to word somebody’s body movement in a paragraph or something, lol.

It’s nice to rejoin the world, just bittersweet to acknowledge I can’t drop as much as before now that I’ve reclaimed my hot girl lifestyle. That being said, i can’t wait until my next drop is ready. I’ve been so tempted to just rage post something as is and go since I’ve been getting stuck and teetering on decisions, but they have to be just freaking right for you guys, and i know you’re gonna love it. Sorry about yapping, I’m also high and feeling good about a lot of stuff.

Hope all is well in your corner of the world 🩷

[jessjustplay]

I finished playing Final Fantasy X (again)

October 22, 2023

Game: Final Fantasy X HD Remaster First Time/Replaying: Replaying Game Time: 40 hours Console: Nintendo Switch Started: December 5, 2022 Finished: October 21, 2023

I finished this game last year in February, but some time in December I got an itch to play it again. At the time of my initial replay, I didn't have a TV so I played the entire thing on my tiny Switch screen. Now that I had somewhere to dock the Switch to, I wanted to re-experience the story again on a big TV!

So yes, I started Final Fantasy X back in December 2022 and it's taken me almost a year to finish it. In my defense, I have been playing a lot of other games! FFX was sort of just a back-burner, in-between-playthroughs type of game.

However, a few days ago I picked it up and could not put it down. Once you get past a particular area (that blasts an annoying announcement on-repeat the ENTIRE time), the game is very fun and picks up speed as the story unravels. I also decided I wasn't going to "do everything" which threw out a lot of that anxiety.

I have a PS4 now, so I thought, "If I'm going to 'do everything' I might as well go for a Platinum trophy!" I'm glad the Switch doesn't have a trophy system because it lets you enjoy the games without worrying about marking tasks off a list, but with how annoying FFX's side-quests are, if you're going to put yourself through that pain, you might as well get some sort of accolade!

I have no idea when I will start my Platinum attempt, but I really would like to try one day. I've played this game SO many times sinc eI was a kid - why not? People on Instagram telling me I should go for an easier Platinum trophy not only annoys me, but also makes me want to do it even more.

SPOILERS START HERE

Anyways, the endgame of this playthrough was really exciting! I told myself I wouldn't be getting an extra aeons or any of the ultimate weapons, so it was nice just walking around, leveling up, and going into boss fight after boss fight.

Normally, I would have Yuna's ultimate weapon and her Break Damage Limit would save the day! But this time I didn't have that and I relied HEAVILY on Bahamut to save our skins.

Seymour #2 took me two attempts, the Zanarkand Guardian was one attempt, the Zanarkand Trials Glyph Monster Dude took me 3 or 4 tries, Yunalesca was one attempt (!), Seymour #3 was one attempt (!!), and Braska's Final Aeon was ALSO one attempt (!!!).

I was surprised I was able to do do the final leg of the endgame in one attempt without dying. Not to mention, whie fighting Braska's Final Aeon, he petrified Wakka and that man disappeared! I was tempted to restart the game but then I thought, "It's not like I'm getting any EXP from this fight!" So I BEAT THE GAME WITH TWO CHARACTERS ONLY. At one point, Lulu and Yuna had less than 200 HP and I was freaking out!

What saving me was summoning Bahamut once, getting LUCKY AF that he didn't die, dismissing him, then using Yuna's overdrive to summon him again. I also used Auron to zombie Jecht and that helped for awhile, and I used Tidus's talk command once and that 100% saved Lulu and Yuna from dying. *THANK GOD*

Here are my final stats:

While I was more critical of the game this time around (more on that in another post), I still enjoyed this game and it will always be special to me! It's interesting though, I used to cry a lot watching the ending of this game, but this time I didn't. It's official - I'm old lol

When you're young, losing the person you "love" seems like the end of the world, but as you get older you learn people come and go. Yuna, you are 17. You will find someone new!!!

I did, however, cry during that one scene watching Yuna's sphere of messages (after beating the Zanarkand guardian boss). IT IS SO SAD!!! 😭 I felt my throat closing up watching that (specifically the Kimahri part). KIMAHRI, YOU'RE THE BEST! I need to write a Kimahri appreciation post.

[cherry-blossom-triplets]

I’m the anon who wanted to gobble this up and boy did you feed. You’re so right and you should say it, Niki was criminally underrated (I’ll admit I ignored her until techno worked with her more, and I’ve gone back to rectify that bc she’s badass). Also, the elemental aspect for those three is so perfect, and lends itself really well to their entire arcs. Even recognizing that Techno fights fast and loose (rather than like most others who stand their ground thanks to the new combat system, Technoblade used a sword and focused on getting behind people rather than proper axe combat), he also was someone who would get stubbornly stuck in his ways/set in stone (re: the whole bit between him and Tommy and the rebuilt L’Manberg, his steady and unwavering loyalty to Phil, keeping stubbornly to his principles of you get what you give, you could even argue the sword is an extension of that). Niki could go scorched earth with people who betrayed her, sometimes literally, it even fits with Jack and Niki’s little anti-Tommy arc, since Jack fostered and directed her fire until it almost burned her completely up. Wilbur was constantly shown to be drowning: his own mind, his responsibilities, etc. and then when he became Ghostbur, suddenly that water connection became a more literal burden, it did more than just drown, it could outright destroy him (in a way, just like it did when he was alive). Anyway, yes, very good, very good.

-✨ (doing this so if I send asks in the future you can tell it’s me if that’s okay 👉👈)

Sparkle Anon, I have been obsessing over this AU to the point where I have designed house plans for Aus for them all living together. I am not alright at all, no one let me on the sims or any other house design game.

Niki was one of the few streamers I knew going into the dsmp (fun fact, at first I thought Dream was a small streamer that Wilbur and Tommy had decided to help out by joining his server, you can imagine my surprise when I learnt otherwise).

I like assign elements to characters for fun, so I have thought about many dsmp characters as elements (Philza and Kristin are both Air, and Tommy is Fire, in case you're wondering). Especially when it comes to their relationships and how the characters interact with each other. I can literally go on and on about elemental symbolism about these characters. I could assign so much symbolism to these characters, don’t tempt me.

Honestly, the more I think about SBI+ the more fun it becomes. Especially where it concerns AUs. I have so many AU ideas I want to write, but I am trying not to make too many fics at one time (I am tempted to just start posting fanfic prompts to this account though but I don’t know how many people would actually be interested in it).

The angst potential. The fluff potential. The humor potential. Niki doesn't take away from the usual SBI dynamic, she only adds and I love it.

[thorniest-rose]

babe. when i first came to you with the idea for jailbait steve i knew you would get it. at most i was hoping for maybe a bit of a smutty blurb that toed the line with age appropriateness and all that.

but you took that idea and fucking ran with it and it was so so so good! i honestly do not have that words but i’m gonna try!

i love all the weird, crazy hints to you dropped about eddie. him low-key stalking steve, him jerking off to the thought of him, just everything about him being that freak that he is made my heart so full!!

steve, the little minx, was absolutely perfect. loved that he was always finding a way to insert himself into eddie’s day and playing up the innocent act!

oh god i want more i want so much more. you’re sexy and incredible and beautiful and wonderful and maybe my favourite author in this fandom!! thank you so much for writing it! i may have to go read it again right now!

p.s. the bits with hellfire were spot on as well! i loved the subtle hints you made towards gareth being intrigued by steve! (would love to see how that plays out in this universe too because i know eddie would train steve good and share him with his best friend, he’s charitable like that!)

— jailbait!steve anon 🍭

hi there!!! oh my gosh original jailbait!steve anon, all I can say is thank you so much for giving me the idea that sparked the entire fic, I'm not sure I ever would have thought of it without you, so thank you.

It was really important to me when I was writing it not just to let it be a smutty, kinky fic, because I thought the potential for it to be so much more about yearning and forbidden desire was there. Near the start of the fic when they meet in the clearing, I also write that there's a sense of recognition between Steve and Eddie, and that was my little implication that it's canon Steve and Eddie meeting in another universe after both dying during the events of Stranger Things. And that's also why they're so inexplicably drawn to each other. I'm not sure if that really comes across because I wanted to keep it very subtle but in my head that layer was always there.

And yes, I'm so committed to a depiction of Eddie that's a little more wild than you usually see in fic. I like to hc him as having a somewhat feral childhood because his parents were never around and he grew up in poverty. I also see him a survivor of child abuse and neglect, and that's given him a thick skin. My Eddie is probably a little harder than the one in canon, but I hope he still feels like Eddie! He's the same, he just has a few more edges on him. The same with Steve. I didn't want him to be a one-dimensional sexpot, but a character who's complex and who feels like the Steve Harrington we all know and love from the show, who has the capacity to be cruel, entitled and prickly but who ultimately is vulnerable and kind, who more than anything wants to be loved.

Your words about me as a writer are incredibly lovely, and I'm honoured to be one of your favourite authors in the fandom, especially considering I haven't written much! But it's always my intention to bring a different point of view and to step away from accepted fanon where I can to explore the characters in slightly different ways, and to use them to explore themes and dynamics that interest me, which is very much what I did in this fic. I would love to write more when I can, so fingers crossed this won't be the last we see of this Steve and Eddie!

omg and DON'T tempt me re Gareth dhdhdhs I already have a little fic in progress where Gareth has had a crush on Steve for years so Eddie lets him fuck Steve. It's messy and yucky but sweet and tender and I can't wait to post it so you can read it!!!

Thank you so much again for the inspiration, I'm so, so happy the fic was all you hoped it would be and more 💖💖💖

[birlwrites]

Could you tell us a bit about Barty's mother?

YES I ABSOLUTELY CAN

so i named her harriet because i totally forgot that might be a little confusing in a series called harry potter, which just goes to show how much i think about the golden trio era

i was thinking a lot about magical art when i created her character, so she's heavily influenced by me going 'ok but they MUST have their own artistic schools and culture right????' - so harriet is an art historian by training (post-hogwarts), a former arts & culture columnist for the daily prophet (part-time), and now that she's not so busy with raising a child she's delved back into her REAL interest which is early enchanted portraiture and if you ask harriet it is CRIMINALLY understudied because IT'S LIKE NOBODY CARES HOW THEY FIGURED OUT HOW TO MAKE LIFELIKE PORTRAITS OF DEAD PEOPLE????? THAT PROCESS MUST HAVE BEEN COMPLETELY FASCINATING AND YET THERE AREN'T ENTIRE LIBRARIES DEVOTED TO CHRONICLING IT????????

she's a ravenclaw of the 'hole herself up in the library for 3 days and forget to sleep' variety, she and crouch sr Definitely met in the hogwarts library

harriet knows both her husband and her son Very well and she knows they are both incredibly stubborn and she has been telling her husband for YEARS that barty needs more breathing room but she also cannot deny that barty needs more realistic life plans than 'hang out with regulus forever' and she has no idea how to convince *him* of that because, again, stubborn, so her efforts at peacemaking mostly tend towards private conversations with each of them to try to nudge them towards a compromise

right now she spends her days diving headfirst into piles of research on renaissance paintings. someday, somehow, she is positive that a book will just magically spring fully formed out of her head. SHE'S GONNA WRITE IT. eventually. once she's done with her research. which will be never because she has infinite new rabbit holes to go down and no deadlines.

she wouldn't *kill* someone for a month of access to the portrait gallery at black manor (THEY HAVE CENTURIES OF FAMILY PORTRAITS, THEY *MUST* HAVE SOME FROM THE EARLIEST DAYS OF ENCHANTED PORTRAITS, SHE MUST INTERVIEW THEM), but she would be tempted. one of her dreams is that someday barty will be able to wrangle such an occurrence, no murder necessary

her office at home consistently looks like it was just hit by a tornado. crouch sr can only make his peace with this because he knows there actually IS an organizational system, it just depends on having absolutely everything close to hand at all times, so boxes and drawers are a no

and apparently swivel chairs were invented or at least conceived of in the early 16th century, which means magical britain definitely has them, which means harriet ABSOLUTELY has one. it has wheels on the bottom but it can also float so she can move around her office three-dimensionally. it's her favorite possession in the world