#anyways. i'm done that's it this is the last time i'm rewriting this fic

[sisterdivinium]

.

[neverinadream]

Six Months Apart - Part One

Summary: Y/n Maddison has a deadline to meet and six months in Paris might just help her, but it might just jeopardise her relationship with he brother's best friend.

Pairing: Ben Chilwell x Fem!Reader (Fem!Maddison Reader)

Requested: Nope (Originals Here & Here)

Song Inspo: You're Gonna Go Far - Noah Kahan

Warnings: smau, 18+, minors dni, nsfw, angst, pre-established 'relationship', the reader is james maddison's younger sister, sneaking around, dom!ben x sub!reader, rough!ben, dirty talk, pet names (baby, princess, good girl...), praise, degradation, the reader is called a slut and refers to themselves as a fucktoy, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), mentions of spit, not edited...

Notes: so this is a rewrite/fusion of two old fics (both are already linked above), i've been wanting to rewrite some of my old ben fics so here it is. part two is already planned and i will start writing that once i've finished something else that i've got planned. anyway....did you like it?? feedback is always appreciated!!

y/n_maddison

liked by harper_xo, benchilwell, madders & 45,388 others

y/n_maddison: just found out i'm moving to paris...

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madders: uh what?!

madders: sorry?!

madders: this is how i find out?!

> y/n_maddison: surprise...

> benchilwell: bro this is how we're all finding out

user578: y/n's writing the sequel in paris???

> y/n_maddison: can neither confirm nor deny this 🤐

harper_xo: i can't believe you're leaving me for six months 🥲

> y/n_maddison: the longest we'll have been apart for 💔

> harper_xo: what will i do without you?! 😭

> y/n_maddison: water my plants??? 👀

> madders: SIX MONTHS?!

user245: why paris?

> y/n_maddison: it's a secret 🤐

> user288: research for the new book, right??? damon promised he would take her to paris one day...

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y/n_maddison's story captioned 'last one for a bit @.madders 🫶🏻'

seen by madders, benchilwell, user468 and 38,899 others

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"Get on your knees."

"Excuse me?"

He brushes his thumb along the seam of your mouth; your lips, soft under the calloused pad of his thumb, parting for him.

"You heard me," he murmurs, two blue orbs fixated on how far back he could push his thumb before you would start to gag. His cock twitches, feeling the first bit of resistance, his thumb covered in spit as you splutter and gag. "What are you waiting for? A please?" He withdraws, wipes it around your mouth, smudging the lipstick you had picked out for today's game. "Get on your fucking knees!"

"But what if someone catches us?"

You feign your concern, sliding your hands down his thighs as you drop to the ground. The family box floor was cold against your knees but it didn't bother you. You had done this in an alleyway beside a nightclub when it had been raining all day and the ground was still damp. The risk of getting caught appealed to you, turning you on more than you would like to admit. It was going to be something you would miss.

You tip your head, meeting his eyes. "Wouldn't be good for either of us."

He hooked his knuckle under your chin, showing you a smug grin. "Really need me to say it?"

Sliding one hand down the front of his shorts, he palmed himself through his briefs. You were beautiful like this, sitting on your knees, large eyes gazing back at him, waiting willingly for his next move. How many times had he had you like this? Too many for him to count. But every time you looked the same. Perfect.

Ben grins as you lick your lips. "Look at you," he hums, stroking your face with his free hand, "just waiting for it, aren't you? Like a good, obedient pup."

"Please, Ben!" You were itching to touch him, to hold his steely length in your hand and wrap you lips around him.

He fists his hand into your hair, wrapping your ponytail around it, and forces you to look at him. "Come on, princess," he tightens his grip making you whimper, "you can do that better than that."

Bending over, he touches his lips against your temple and kisses you. In one breath, he breathes in the scent of your shampoo, a concoction of coconut and vanilla, and squeezes his cock tighter. Six months without that scent was going to be hard.

Against you, he whispers, "Be a good, desperate, little slut and tell me how much you want this hard cock in your mouth."

Without permission, you curl your fingers around the waistband of his shorts and pull them down with one sharp tug, bringing his briefs down with them. His cock springs free, standing to attention, the tip leaking a pearly bead of precum. You lick your lips and moan like you could already taste him.

"Ah," he tuts, shaking his head, "touching me without permission, baby? I'll have to punish you for that later." He knocks your hands away, wrapping his own around his shaft, jerking it a few times to ease some of the ache. Your wild eyes follow his movements, a desperation in them that makes him snicker. "You want it?" He trails it over your lips, teasing you. You flick your tongue out and he shudders. "So beg for it, tell me how much you want it."

"Please, Benji," you whine, opening your mouth, a soft sigh leaving as he sits the crown of his cock against your flattened tongue.

He pushes forward, guiding himself deeper into your mouth, letting your warmth engulf him as you wrap your lips around him. Your tongue swirls around the tip, licking up his precum, and you suck on him with a loud, slightly over dramatic, moan.

"Fuckin' perfect," he grunts, pulling out with a sharp pop, a string of spit still connected between you, "but I'm not satisfied; tell me what you want. Want me to fuck your throat baby?" You nod your head, inching closer on your knees. "So fucking say it!" His tone is harsher, sending a shiver running down your spine. "Tell me you want me to use your throat for the hole that is, to have me slide in and out of that slutty fucking mouth!"

Licking your lips, you break the string of spit, wiping it off your chin. "Use me," you whisper, nuzzling your face against him, your sultry smile pressing into him as he lets out a groan, "fuck my throat right here in my brother's family box - treat me like I'm nothing more than a fucktoy."

"There you go," he grins, gushing praise as he pumps himself a few more times, squeezing his fingers tighter around the tip on every upstroke, "tere's my good, little slut. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You shake your head. "Can I have it now?"

"Poor, poor Madders," he murmurs, tapping his cock against your cheek, revelling in how you smiled up at him, "doesn't even know how much of a slut his baby sister is - wanting to get her throat fucked in his family box, where anyone could come back and catch us. Are you that desperate that you can't even wait until we're home?"

Your head shakes and your cheeks twitch. "Been thinking about it all day." A glob of spit lands on his cock, your hand jerking it up and down his shaft, adding it to the rest of the mess, before your mouth dips and slurps on his tip. "How are you going to live without this for six months?" You break away and suck on his balls, listening to the guttural groan that rips through him.

"The same thing I used to do," he answers, pulling on your hair, making you look up at him, "just pretend my hand is you." His response makes you smile. "Now, no more playing around," the softness of the moment was gone, "open your mouth and take it like a good girl."

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y/n_maddison

liked by benchilwell, kennedyalexa, harper_xo & 50,289 others

y/n_maddison: alexa play little black dress by one direction

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harper_xo: mommy 🥵

> y/n_maddison: 😏

> harper_xo: i can't believe paris is gonna get all of this for six months 😭

> y/n_maddison: pfft the hot french boys are nothing compared to you 😉

madders: you're wearing the wrong size, right?

> y/n_maddison: no

> madders: then you're at least wearing a coat, right?

> y/n_maddison: no

> madders: i'll bring you a coat

benchilwell: 🥵

>comment deleted<

user357: you're not sneaky, chilly 🤭

> user179: you saw his comment too?

> user539: what comment?

> user357: he commented 🥵 but then quickly deleted it

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Alone outside the restaurant, Ben stepped behind you, wrapping both arms around your waist. "I don't want you to leave," he whispers, too scared to say it any louder.

He buries his face into your neck, drifting his warm lips across your cold skin, the tension releasing from his shoulders as you relax back into his chest. You weren't safe out in the open like this, your brother and the rest of your friends were still in the restaurant, any one of them could come looking for you, but for once you didn't care. Both of you needed this.

"Change your plans," he attempts to persuade you, drifting his mouth higher up your neck, kissing the soft spot behind your ear, "stay here with me."

"I can't-"

"Yes, you can," he mumbles, cutting you off.

"No, Ben, I can't."

Turning to face him, you brush his hair away from his eyes, distracting yourself from the tears that threatened to fall. Of course, you wanted to stay, just thinking about being separated from your friends and family for six months made you want to cry. But you had a deadline to meet, a generous advancement, and a promise that you'd try anything to rid yourself of your writer's block to keep. Even if that meant moving to the location of your next book.

"I'm getting nowhere with my book, they think a change of scenery might do me some good-"

"But fucking Paris?" You wince as he raises his voice and he quickly apologises under his breath. "They couldn't have suggested Cornwall, maybe? Or Manchester?" He rattles off, his voice cracking as his own emotions get the better of him. You watch him tip his head back like it could send his tears back to where they came from. "Why does it have to be another country?"

You brush your thumb lovingly over his beard, your tummy filled with nervous butterflies feeling him leaning into your touch. "It's just France, Benji," you move to cradle his face as he presses his forehead against yours, "not the other side of the world; you can always come visit me."

He gives you a watery smile. "Promise you won't fall for some hot French guy who makes smoking look cool?"

You giggle and wipe his cheeks. "Who needs a hot French guy when I've got myself a sexy English lad with questionable tattoos?"

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Football Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @brasiliangp @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @hischierswhore @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @kathb59 @emcv1427 @gagaslonina @afterpills @pulisicsgirl @ricciardhoe3 @sunflower-tia

[ktaerssoi]

hii could you do a jealous kate fic PLEASEEE

jealously is my middle name

summary: blowing off a project for your girlfriend and her jealously.

(678)

kate martin x reader

Being a business major meant being paired up with others often, and by the middle of freshman year, most people had a go-to partner. Your go-to partner was Violet, she was pretty and super funny.

By senior year, you and she had worked on countless projects together. You guys had recently been assigned a project that would be part of your final grade, wanting to finish it early, you guys had planned to meet up the following day to get a basic layout.

there was one problem though, your girlfriend. Kate had been making up excuses for you to stay home all day, whether it was her pretending to be sick, saying that you had all semester, or just saying she would miss you so much that she would "die an agonizing death."

needless to say, she didn't want you to go. "Kate, I need to go, seriously now." you separated yourself from her, knowing that the physical contact would make you fold.

"I don't know where your problem with me hanging out with Violet is coming from, but we need to get this work done." You and Kate were standing by the front door of your guys' shared apartment, she was leaning against the wall, still trying to bargain with you.

"It's not that I had something against her, I just don't understand why you guys have to meet up so often. I mean seriously, it's like every other day." She had pushed herself off the wall, her hands finding your waist as she now stands in front of you.

you squirm at her touch, the simple action causing your cheeks to flush. "because it's our final kate, it's not like it's optional." you looked up at her, she was 6'0, so it got hard to focus sometimes when you guys were standing so close together.

she nodded, a disappointed look on her face, but you quickly saw her eyes change as a thought popped into her head. She stared down at your lips for a second, and then quickly pulled you into a kiss.

you kiss back quickly, melting into it, a pout on your face as she pulls away. "kate, you can't just do that." she gives you a confused look, but you don't miss the smirk on her face.

"do what? I can't give my girlfriend a goodbye kiss as she leaves to go hang out with another girl?" you shake your head, realizing what Kate's big problem is with Violet all of a sudden.

"you're jealous." you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she tries to pull you closer (if it was even possible)

"I- what?" the look on her face makes you laugh, her being unable to defend herself, giving you all the proof you need. "I am not jealous."

She narrows her eyes, the tips of her ears reddening at your accusations. "you see y/n, if I was jealous, then I would be trying to get you to stay home. I'm not doing that. Leave for all I care, te ll Violet I say hi or whatever." she bites the inside of her cheek, her hands falling to her sides and off your waist, trying to act nonchalant.

"mhm, okay then, see you later k." you smile, kissing her goodbye as you go to reach for the door you don't get far and you feel her hands grab your waist once again pulling you toward her. "okay but seriously babe do you really have to start it today? wait until tomorrow at least," the end of her sentence is muffled as she barries her head into your neck, her front pressed up against your back as your hand is still on the doorknob.

"not jealous my ass."

-

you had texted Violet that something had come up, and you were unable to meet her that day, you and kate had spent the rest of the night watching movies. (along with other things)

it wouldn't be the last time you had to blow someone off for kate.

okay chat, i like dont absolutely hate this but it def isnt my fav, so ill prob rewrite it.. i was also thinking of rewriting the other kate fic bc i just don't like how i left it. also how do we feel about me writing for women's hockey?? lord kk harvey is so fine. anyway chat im actually dying sos - kate

[unrequitedloveletter]

Cal, my love, how are you???

If heard your call for Kaz x Reader requests. If LOVE to see what you come up with for Kaz x Grisha!Reader (I'm feeling inferno, squaller, or Durant, but obviously it's up to you!) where the reader gets sicker and sicker from not using their small science! It's such a fascinating concept to me and hardly ever explored!

Back To Normal- K.B x gn! Squaller! Reader

Okay, hi! It's been nearly two weeks since you sent this in and I did write it! Editing it just took me longer than I expected and I woke up after a nap last night to discover that I have a bit of a cold developing so I couldn't edit the remainder of it and post it like I'd hoped, but I got it done today so yay, I hope you like this one!

This concept is one I've never seen a fic for but one I've debated writing a fic around in the past because the concept in and of itself is a really intriguing idea to me, and this gives me an excuse to write it and also an excuse to write a squaller! reader, which I've thought about doing but have never actually done, so I was really excited when I saw this in my inbox! Thank you so much for sending this in, and if it's not exactly what you had in mind, feel free to reach out and let me know, I'll totally rewrite if you'd like lol.

Fic type- hurt/comfort with moments of angst

Warnings- mentions of sickness, frailness, feelings of weakness, heart palpitations, loss of appetite, and there's reference to the second chapter of Six of Crows so slight spoiler warning too for people haven't read the books

As a Grisha, once your abilities to summon the small science were discovered, there were consequences for not summoning. You grew sick, your body grew weak, your bones fragile and you felt frail, even the smallest actions leaving you winded.

It was the universes way of punishing you for not using the gift you'd been given, another show of like calls to like. Refraining from summoning calls to sickness, and summoning calls to health.

You'd read Grisha theory, both in your time at the Little Palace before you left in the last few months before the war and in the time since, in the times wherein you needed something to read and happened upon a book containing Grisha theory and figured it would be good to pass the time.

You knew that you wouldn't last if you didn't summon, but you eventually stopped finding reason to. Nobody in the Dregs knew you were a squaller, and what good did wind do, anyway, unless it was summer and grossly humid as Ketterdam always got when the weather warmed up? You saw no point in using your small science, so eventually, you just stopped.

For a while, the differences weren't really noticeable. You didn't notice them, nobody in the Dregs noticed them, none of the crows did. You hadn't relied on your abilities as a Squaller since you'd lived in Ravka, and before you'd decided to stop, you mostly used them in summer or when Kaz needed a distraction in the middle of a negotiation in the rarer times they'd taken place outdoors, something to put the opposition a little on edge.

But then, they became noticeable. You stopped sleeping quite as comfortably as you used to, spending hours trying to get comfortable, trying to will your mind to quiet. You woke up and took to coffee to keep you awake, often running on between two and four hours to boot.

Because of your tiredness, dark circles developed under your eyes. Your appetite lessened and you grew to be tired all the time, even on a rarer night where your body rested for seven or eight hours. You still relied on the coffee even then, and Nina was beginning to take notice of the fact that you hardly ate.

Kaz had long taken notice of the exhaustion you exhibited even after jobs that you'd always considered pretty easy, ones that didn't require as much effort, as much physical strain, as the bigger heists always tended to.

Jesper had long taken notice of how much coffee you drank, the fact that you always seemed to have jurda on you even in the middle of the day, and Inej noticed it when your pace began to slow, afraid to walk at the pace you normally did because you didn't want to risk heart palpitations.

Wylan was beginning to notice when those heart palpitations kicked in, was the one to grab your hand and look at you, brown eyes silently trying to ask if something was wrong only to receive nothing in response.

One by one, each of the crows noticed something, and still, none of them said a word. They could've been wrong, they knew. All of them acknowledged that they could've been dramatizing things, making things out to be worse than they actually were.

The only one who was sure of the things they'd noticed was Kaz. You were someone who mattered to him. Of course he was going to notice if you were out of sorts. Observance was his pedigree.

So, one day, Kaz showed up at your door. "What's wrong?" He'd asked. "What is wrong with you, Y/N?"

You'd laughed, a lame, tired laugh. You'd barely slept three hours, and the long-term exhaustion was starting to finally have an impact. Kaz's tone was humorless, blunt like the edge of a knife gone too long without being run across a sharpening block.

It was normally gravel, normally coffee grounds being poured into a coffee press, but it was not that, not that day. It was the unsharpened edge of a knife, the voice that did not belong to the man you loved but rather to one they called Dirtyhands.

"What's wrong with me?" You asked. "Nothing, Kaz. Nothing is wrong with me."

"Exhaustion," Kaz said. "You drink coffee and chew jurda near constantly. You sleep hours after jobs that aren't even tiring. You are constantly tired because you can't sleep unless you are at the point wherein your body will die without resting. You get two hours most nights, four, six, on luckier ones. Nina has also noticed that you eat less lately. Wylan says you've been having heart palpitations and Matthias has noticed you zoning out. Why?"

"Why do I feel like that's a rhetorical question?"

"It's not. Stop trying to flirt."

"I'm not trying to flirt," you laughed again, a shallow, hollowed out version of the laugh Kaz recognized. "If I were trying to flirt, you'd know. I would know it was working because your cheeks would be tinged pink, which, of course, is something you'd deny."

Kaz laughed humorlessly once more. "What, are you sick?"

You paused. Some part of you had known he'd guess at that. With that realization came the one that he already knew why you were sick. Inej must've known, must've snooped for Kaz when the trust you shared was still developing. He was Kaz Brekker, and he had to know somehow, didn't he?

"You're a Squaller," he said, the words falling from his lips like they were something he'd forgotten, like the fact that you could summon the wind was something he'd merely heard and disregarded after having deemed it unimportant. "You're a Squaller, and you're one who hasn't summoned for at least six months. Why not?"

"I saw no point," you said. "Let me guess, though, you've known since I came in, since I joined up?"

"I've known since the night we confronted Bolliger about double dealing," Kaz said. "Geels, the negotiations. It was the day before--"

"The day before you came to me with the Ice Court proposition," you said with a nod. "I remember. What tipped you off?"

"The breeze," Kaz said. "It was late winter, and breezes like that are commonplace, sure, but after a bout of rain? Wind like that doesn't just happen. Especially not considering the fact that it nearly tipped Geels over, and Geels was nearly seven feet tall. It gave me something to use in the moment, and I just kind of noticed whenever you'd do it while I was falling short from then on. Nobody else knows."

"Well you'll need to grant me some leniency, Brekker. I stopped summoning because I didn't see a point."

"if the point of summoning is to keep you alive and healthy, I have to say, I see no sensible reason that one would stop," Kaz said. "You're deteriorating. I know you think it can't get any worse, but it can, and it will."

"I know," you said. "Relax. Let me find the proper time, when it doesn't feel like it'll be an inconvenience, and I'll give it a go."

Kaz looked at you solemnly for a minute before he nodded.

"Right, then," he said. "Work needs doing." He turned to go, and you watched him leave, not saying a word as he left, only closing your eyes and hoping for even another few moments of rest.

-

The next time you summoned, it was June and you hadn't summoned in a year. You were sitting in Kaz's office, the window open as you discussed heist plans with him, Jesper, Inej, and the rest of the crows.

The heat was growing unbearable, so you willed a strong breeze to flow gently through the room, making the area feel a bit colder, much to everyones delight. Kaz shot you a look because Ketterdam in the summer was not prone to breezes on humid days like that one, and you felt some of the energy that was long gone move back into your system, a spark of joy and pride at your small science lighting up in your chest.

You allowed yourself a small smile as you leaned back in the chair you'd occupied.

You were still sick, still frail and tired and coffee-reliant, but you were getting back to normal. You decided, in the moment, that that was what mattered.

[teenandbeyond]

could i request a part 3 of your yautja x reader series ! its such a good read ive been catching myself going back and rereading it all over again !

Yautja x Fem. Reader Pt.3

Decided to kill two birds with one stone for the last of the three shots.

I wanted to sate your thirst, dark fic readers since y'all been asking for a while (even though I'm not the best with this style, nor is it my usual type).

Edit: Low-key had to rewrite this before it turned into some 50 Shades of Grey shit...I got...invested (which says a lot considering I'm not deep into the Predator fandom.) Then I got sleepy, so I didn't double word check :) Edit 2: If y'all ever want to request the prince again, I can do it outside of the series...probably, it depends.

Want more from me? Masterlist 1 Masterlist 2

Part 1

Part 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Little Princess (Predator)

Warning(s): Smut content, breeding, jealous Yautja, squirting, size difference, long asf (Might be the longest I've done for Yautja?), fingering, noncon details, possible triggers, exhibition (being watched), whipped Yautja (couldn't help but add a pinch of fluff for the last one)

The prince Ta'yto seems to have taken quite the liking to you, you've become his little Princess to breed...

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You briskly walked through the halls of the palace, not wanting to be late.

Ta’yto didn’t appreciate when you were late, last time you were punished for it, forced to sit on his lap throughout an entire meeting, how embarrassing.

The thing was, this place was a labyrinth and with the language barrier, you wouldn’t have been able to ask for directions. You had to solely depend on your memory.

Peeking down one way, your gaze flicked over the long walkway, “Here? No there isn’t a candelabra there…”

Which only left the walk way to your left a few feet ahead, you stalked ahead.

Just as you made the turn, you bumped into a solid chest, the firmness making you collapse to the ground, all the jewelry you wore ringing in the hall.

“Owww…” you rub at your forehead, squinting your eyes and craning your head up to see who you bumped into.

It was a Yautja male, not the prince you belonged to, Ta’yto had longer hair and he was wider, this one was slim.

“Sorry—Um…You don’t speak English, right, that’s pointless, [Name],” you muttered to yourself.

You stumble to stand up and straighten yourself due to the slim fit and flowiness of your dress.

A few clicks was all you got in response.

You gave a polite smile, “I should get going—”

He titled your chin up with a finger, seeming to observe you, arm pausing in its movement as he took sight of your blooded symbol.

“Ah…I should get going…”

As you moved to leave he grabbed your arm, easily stopping you, he began to trail his other hand from your chin to your hip.

“Let me go. This isn’t a good idea—”

You were cut off by a growl that felt like it shook the palace.

The predator touching you turned around to kneel to who was in front of him, which meant one thing…

The prince was here to collect you.

His footsteps must have been light before, they were heavy like thunder now.

He stopped in front of him, gesturing for him to stand and when he did stand…

You actually realized how tall Ta’yto was compared to someone other than you, he was at least a whole head taller than the predator in front of him. Having to lean down to be face-to-face—since at the moment his mask-thingy was off (you didn’t know what it was called).

There were a few exchanges of clicks, before Ta’yto decided to toss him away at the wall that connected to the entry of the other hallway.

You had to blink a few times to process that he tossed a fully-grown predator—you assumed anyway—with ease.

Then his head slowly turned to you.

You raised your hands in surrender, “I didn’t—ah! Put me down!”

He had simply tossed you over his shoulder, resting his hand comfortably on your ass as he turned to leave to his quarters like he usually did.

You see, after the fifth time with you, he decided you would officially be his mate. You were his favorite, so you had the privilege of sharing his quarters with him. He--despite kidnapping you and everything-- gave you luxury you didn’t expect, elegant dresses and jewelry from distant planets—learning you regularly needed food and water, made sure you were provided with some, and anything else you could need.

The only things that irked him, was one, despite all these things you still fought—admittedly at times he enjoyed it—it was still no less irking. Then, the fact that you never used the power you had as his top mate to decline the young and impulsive predators who tried to sneak and use you for themselves, knowing that you were taken. He had marked you with his clan mark—damn it, his name for goodness sakes.

Ta’yto found it quite adorable when you muttered angrily in English, thinking he didn’t understand a single word. Sometimes you had a colorful array of names to call him, both in irritation and in pleasure.

“The throne room?” you wondered as you noticed the familiar doors close.

After the short trek up steps, he set you down, only long enough to plop into the sturdy throne and set you on his lap. He sighed, gripping your thigh through the dress.

“I…he didn’t do anything really…” you tried to assure.

At this point, you didn’t necessarily hate him anymore, but you didn’t like him much either.

It was kind of hard to when one minute you’re fighting to the death together only for you to get betrayed and get brutally handled by him.

But he did, he touched what didn’t belong to him.

All he had to say was that ‘She was so tempting. I’m sorry, Prince Ta’yto. I won’t do it again…’

Ta’yto spread his legs, yours following along, before you could even react his rough hand slid under your dress.

“What are you—” your breath hitched as his nails gently grazed against your inner thigh, so close to the warmth between them.

It had been a while since he hand his hand there, after the first time, he’d just preferred to get straight to it.

You whimpered as playful fingers trailed up, his finger moving over the bare, pink, flesh with calculated strokes.

You clenched your thighs to stop it, “Not—Not—”

He simply grunted and spread them open again with his free hand that had been on the armrest.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to contain the thin amount of dignity you still had, you wouldn’t let him win that easily.

Trying to ignore how much more sensitive your body had become each time he had his way with you.

But you couldn’t stop the drawn-out gasp that left your lips when he finally slid in two of his fingers, providing you with a little relief after the immediate tension he created inside you.

But what you hated, was that your body was excited, because you knew two wouldn’t be enough to prepare for him, he’d have to give you more.

You stiffened when the door opened, the advisor or whatever he was had walked in, but after taking in the situation, he gave a few clicks and turned to leave.

But Ta’yto’s voice stopped him, he said something you didn’t understand, which they nodded to before leaving.

You didn’t have time to wonder what that was about because then he was moving again.

Your brows scrunched as you tried to focus, his guard is lowered, you could possibly attack him. He may be stronger than you, but move quick enough, you could immobilize him.

Your eyes flicked over to the sharpened spike on one of the sides of his foot rest. Thinking of all possible scenarios for a few minutes. But you would have to bend and reach for it, that would be too much time.

“I—can you stop for a second…I…I’m too sensitive…” you attempted.

Not that it worked, of course.

Then the door opened again, it was the Predator from before in chains.

You could feel Ta’yto chuckle behind you, before speaking to the Predator in their language.

“You know. The thing about tempting things, they aren’t attainable to scum like you…The reason I brought you here, is to remind you what’s mine and that you can’t have her. You aren’t permitted to speak or leave until I tell you. Think about this the next time you decide to touch what doesn’t belong to you.”

He turned his attention back to you who had turned your head in embarrassment and closed your legs, even though the scum couldn’t see underneath the dress.

He spread your legs again, giving his hand access to move, “This is mine. Only I can touch it like this, you could only ever dream…”

He quickly switched from a tame pace to a rough rhythmic one, making you gasp and let your head fall into his chest.

“Didn’t you touch her here?” he gripped your chin that had been touched before, forcing you to look at the chained Predator, as he added another finger, “Well, I’m reclaiming it.”

This should’ve still been embarrassing to you, but it so, so, erotic, so…so strangely powerful all you could do was tighten around his fingers.

You gripped his arm tight, “Please, it’s too much, not—not yet—hah…”

You found your hips moving to meet his fingers, desperate for the soon coming release.

“And every other place your slimy hands touched her... She doesn’t smell like me as strongly anymore…that needs to change.”

Your nails dug into his bicep, not that he felt it much.

He likes that his research on female humans and what brings pleasure was put to good use with you.

Speaking of…should he try that new thing he learned about yesterday? Well, since he has an audience, he might as well give a show.

In the same motion he tore off your dress, your places were switched, your bare body sitting on the throne while he stood, towering over you, before kneeling down.

Which confused you, considering he was the royal one and you were not.

But you were totally clueless to the fact that this Yautja was so addicted he had no problem doing so at any time.

With another quick move, he gripped your legs and tugged you forward, it was so sudden, you had to grab the armrests to steady yourself.

“What…what are you..?”

His face was way too close to your nether regions, you could feel his breath, which made you twitch each time.

What was he going to—your eyes widened as you felt a wet muscle brush against you.

What was going on? Was he—? Where did he learn this?

You yelped as the few cautious licks of a forked tongue became ravenous, he gripped your thighs hard as his tongue teased you.

“Ohhhh,” you sighed out, biting your lip to keep quiet.

But that’s not what he wanted, so he slid in the hard muscle.

You gripped the armrests for your life, barely able to hold eye contact with him as he devoured you like a starved man. And the mandibles brushing against your skin made it worse.

You tossed your head back, a desperate moan leaping from your throat, the feeling too good, tears bubble up to your waterline, “Please don’t—Not that—Not there—Please!”

But he doesn’t pause, he just gets impossibly more aggressive.

He wants the tears to fall, that’s what always happens before you break. He wants you to break.

He adds his fingers into the equation again, the minute he does, you’re gripping his head like a lifeline.

The closer you get, the louder you get, which he likes. He likes when that composure you try so hard to keep disappears. Shatters before his very eyes. He keeps his eyes on you, wanting to see the moment when it happens.

And it does, but not in the way he was expecting, your chest hiccups as the tears finally fall and you shake your head, almost like you want to refuse the feeling, but you don’t, not really, he knows that.

“No, no, no, I can’t…no…”

And your hips jerk, you’re no longer able to control them and a water-like substance escapes from you. He quickly gets over the surprise and happily excepts it. This is new and you show no signs of being in pain, more than the usual anyway, so he succeeded, right?

Then your crying is of embarrassment, you hadn’t done that before.

But he doesn’t allow you to wallow in it for long.

Your breath is ragged as your legs shake, but you know he never shows mercy on you.

Definitely not today since he’s showing off how beautiful you are and how well you take him, that he’s got something no one but him can have. No one.

The second thing different about today, he rubs a thumb against your thigh, as if saying good job or good girl.

He doesn’t stay there too long, ready to cleanse his mate of the scum that dared touch her completely.

You whine as he finally sheds off his loincloth, you’re way too sensitive to take him now.

And he knows you’re sensitive. He knows you’re sensitive as he lifts you by your shaky legs to place you on his lap again as he sits on his throne. He knows you’re sensitive as he rubs you against his erection as you face away from him. He knows your sensitive as he moves one hand to the hip that was touched.

But he knows you can handle it, his little pet always handles it.

“Ahhm! Fuck!”

He growls as you suck him in, your body molded into the form his wanted. Now your body so greedily accepts him as compared to before. He fits so perfect, like your body conformed to his shape. You really are just for him.

“She fits me perfectly. So, you see—ngh—you could never satisfy her anyway, you peasant.”

You barely have time to settle before he’s pounding away.

“Sense—sensetiv—!”

Haven’t you learned by now that he doesn’t really care?

You’re just his little pet—

Well, Ta’yto supposed that wasn’t true anymore.

You were more than a pet—although you were still a pet, his little pet—

You were more than that…his true mate—no…his princess.

Maybe he should marry you.

Would that be strange? He might be looked at weirdly since it wasn’t a thing for his race.

But if he got to pound into this every day, this hot, tight, warm—

Anyway, you were the best mate he’s had…you were fit for royalty both figuratively and literally you fit him into you like he was meant to fill you whenever.

Speaking of filling, you’d look absolutely ravishing with a little bump, at this point he genuinely wanted it.

He’d have to do his best to be gentle no matter how arousing the sight would be. He wouldn’t be able to not fuck you, so at the very least he’d just be gentle and still be able to feel you around him like a vice as you held his child.

The thought of impregnating you gave him a whole new burst of energy.

His little princess having his little baby.

Maybe more than one, how many babies could a human have without dying?

He wanted that many.

“Too much—Too-too much! Please, I—I can’t” you sobbed turning your head into his side.

Little princess, don’t you know your tears only spur him on? He likes when you cry.

He grips the inside of your knee a little more, ramming into you. Wanting to unsure he fills you with strong seed, strong enough to give him children.

You spasm around him as you release again, the feeling so intense it’s hard to stay conscious as you settle.

But his pace barely slows, despite the tightness, and only speeds up again once you finish.

You beg, “Please…I'm done...I...”

Your head collapses onto his chest as darkness takes over you.

And he doesn’t stop, no, not until he spills every drop into you.

"The thing is princess, I decide when you're done."

And a month later he got what he wanted, a cute little bump, his little princess.

And oh, how he wished he could ravish you how he wanted…but he’d have to wait for that.

[quackquackcey]

Writing Patterns

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 11 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I was tagged by the amazing @renmackree! 💛 I'm kinda curious about my pattern; I have a feeling it's dialogue.... LOL (I won't include drabbles 🌝)

Lava Cakes & Molten Chocolates

E | Sterek | 6k | post-canon, love potion mishap, fluff & smut, mating bite

"Stiles."

Derek's Kumquat

E | Sterek | 45k | post-canon, friends w/ benefits to lovers, smutty, humor

“I’m like this kumquat, sweet on the outside and tart on the inside.”

Hottest Thing Since Stuffed Crust

E | Sterek | 4k | canon div, college student!Stiles, getting together, car sex

"Uh, hey."

Stiles the Furry Little Disaster Waiting to Happen

T | Sterek | 5k wip | summer between seasons 2 & 3, spell gone wrong, hamster!Stiles feat. Derek's big boobies lol

Stiles loved animals.

“Me too”

E | Sterek | 10k | canon div, college student!Stiles, costume party, baking, smut, massage...

Stiles had a weird habit.

Blooms in the Darkness

E | Sterek | 18k | season 3B rewrite, void!Stiles, anchors, spark awakening, smut, hurt/comfort

It first began as nothing more than a speck.

Meat, Ducks, & Cigarettes

E | Lawlu | 8k | high school AU, hungry days-inspired, delinquents, fighting, smut

“Hey, Torao, can I—”

More Than Obsessed

E | Sterek | 43k | AU, serpentine!Stiles x killer!Derek, action, smut, mates, you can't spell manslaughter without laughter

The first time Stiles saw him, he thought, ‘Does this guy even know what he’s doing with that fishing pole?’

Rumpled sheets, smoke-tinged kisses, and sea salted lightning

E | Sterek | 14k | modern AU, a/b/o, case!fic, alpha mafia boss!Derek x omega FBI agent!Stiles, spark awakening

The canteen quieted from carefree chatter to hushed whispers, as it did everytime Stiles and Derek walked in.

Like Clockwork

E | Sterek | 6k | modern AU, a/b/o, alpha CEO!Derek x omega secretary!Stiles, pwp, animal hybrids

Stiles had never believed in love at first sight.

More Than Enough

E | Sterek | 8k | season 2 rewrite, get together after pool scene, 5 + 1 things, hurt/comfort, smut

“The only way to prove yourself is through blood. Fear. Remember that.”

Kind of a pattern w/ dialogue as I thought, although less dialogue than I thought... lmao 👁👁 I did 11 bc I have a huge soft spot for More Than Enough, don't mind me lol 🌝

Idk who's done this but I'll low-pressure tag @chenziee, @katia-anyway, @sugareey-makes-stuff, @basicallyahedgehog, @betsib - anyone feel free to join!

[optiwashere]

What are your thoughts on comment etiquette? I never know if the writers going to take what I write the wrong way, so I'm always scared of commenting...

Oh, anon.

I'm sorry that some fandom experience has made you feel this way. I'm sure there are some folks out there that would react negatively to a comment that's otherwise benign, which I can only assume that's what you mean, but I promise you that the majority of writers are just ecstatic when someone engages with their art.

My thoughts on comment etiquette are mixed since I grew up in a culture of much more critical reviews. I will say that you should probably know what "constructive criticism" actually entails before leaving that kind of comment on a fic. Also, be prepared for someone to not really engage with your critique in fandom spaces. In writing circles, it's quite common to find people that want to "help" you with your writing, but really what they want to do is force you to rewrite something to fit their tastes.

Basically, engage with the fic as it is. I've done multiple writing workshops and I'm well-acquainted with how to offer useful constructive criticism, but I often don't say anything even if I notice something in a fic.

Why?

Well, for one, I'm nobody's editor. More importantly, most people are out here fighting to have their ideas seen by other people. To have their voices heard. These are amateur writers who most likely won't go on to try to become professional writers. Not everyone is here to "step up their game" so to speak. And that's OK. I don't get off on making people feel bad without their consent, so in the few times that I've offered constructive feedback it's been when someone tags/notes that they're open to it, and even then I'll double-check in a comment before I say anything to that effect. So I typically advise against this even if I'm personally a fan of constructive criticism, though my definition of that kind of criticism is a bit more rigorous than the typical reader's.

If you just want to share how you feel about someone's writing, I reblogged a post not that long ago which gives you a cutesy framework for structuring comments.

There are other valid comment styles, for if there's a language barrier or anxiety issues, etc.

I know folks sometimes think they must put colossal effort into their comments, but when I see, "I love this!" or "💜💜💜" or "kjadfhsdkjfhsdf" as a comment do you know what I do? I smile. I think that I gave someone a lil joy for the day, week, however long it lasts. I appreciate long, thoughtful comments that really delve into the thematic elements of what I write as much as I appreciate the short, sweet comments that remind me that I wrote something that somebody enjoyed.

I'm sure that most people who write and post their lil stories feel the same way. The people that get up in arms about the "quality" of your comments tend to be the people you don't want to talk to anyways.

Thanks for the lovely question 💜

[layuhsblog]

lucas x male reader?

story: m/n gets kidnapped by a mafia group, and their leader, yukhei, wants the money that the former's family owes him - it doesn't come, as they don't care about m/n.

this makes yukhei have a change of heart.

(lucas is not really a jerk, he's just trying to do his job)

Hii, I made it into a chaebol m!reader x mafia leader! lucas fic,

hope you don't mind. I've never written mafia au. So this is pure shit I'm really sorry. I'll rewrite it and make it better once I have more experience.

Thankyou for requesting and reading it. ALSO- this was an amazing request. Renegade is such a bop and he LOOKS SO FUCKING HOT I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. Thankgod there are still Lucas stans on Tumblr.

Anyway hope you tolerate this fic T-T

REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN BTW!!

dk the word limit prolly 1k words

warnings: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome???, soft boy mafia lucas, angst, fluff?, small mention of religious trauma, family's a bitch, drugging, panic attack, hyperventilating, thoughts about death, mentions murder, daddy issues?, death, swearing, badly written threats, winwin is a dick but he loves you :), Lucas being HOTTIE MAFIA LEADER OOF, kissing.

To myself- Lucas x M!reader

-

Coming out to your orthodox religious family was not easy. On the surface the media thinks you're this wholesome rich family but the truth was much deeper and darker than it appeared.

You were sitting in a bar drinking away your problems when you were approached by a cute gentleman.

"Hi, rough day? May I buy you a drink?" he smiled at you

you tiredly sighed,

"If you're trying to get me into your bed, not happening."

He chuckled,

"Let me just buy you a drink, I'll walk away if you're not interested." You scanned his face, not so discreetly.

He looked cute and shy..you didn't see anything shady about him. You cautiously eyed his again and nodded. He showed a toothy grin at that.

"I'm Winwin by the way!"

"___" you replied and for the first time that night showed a slight smile.

_

A few hours had passed and Winwin started to grow on you, a couple of drinks more and your eyes started getting droopy.

Before you could call your driver to pick you; you passed out.

-

When you woke up, you had no idea where you where. Immediately you sat up and met with a throbbing headache. When you tried to get up, you realised your hands were tied. Panicked you screamed and screamed for someone to help you. You screamed till you lost your voice, and burst out crying. You had no idea what happened to you, what they'll do to you or if you'll even get out of here alive. All those thoughts became too mouth and you felt a bitter metallic taste in your mouth as your throat ran dry. You couldn't breathe. The worst of all, the room was empty except for a clock in it, it had been a long time since you were here and you were almost sure no one was looking for you.

"Ya done screaming or should I give you more of a reason to cry about?" You did not realise someone else was in the room with you. It was Winwin. Your heart sank.

"Y-you! What have you done to me!? Let me out! P-please." The last word came out as a weak plea and he laughed at your pathetic state,

"Can't, boss' orders. Yknow if he hadn't told me to bring you to him, I'd might as well taken you out on that little date." He winked at you and you were filled with disgust as fresh tears threatened to spill out from your eyes.

Your chest, throat, stomach everything hurt. You felt like you could throw up any minute.

It took you 15 minutes to calm yourself down all the while Winwin was looking at you with an amused look on his face, watching your every move like a hawk.

You were just blankly staring at a wall. The worst that can happen is they'll kill you. Who cares if you die?

-

Five hours had passed since then and you were doing nothing, feeling nothing so you closed your eyes and tried to sleep on the dirty floor. Winwin stepped out of the room to call someone, he did not realise the door is not soundproof. It sounded like he was threatening someone, probably your family you presumed.

-

"We have your son motherfucker. If you don't fucking pay us back you'll find his body in your front gate. Have fun when the headlines say 'L/n Family's Youngest son found dead on their door. It'll be fun seeing police raid your family seeing all the black money you have." he laughed

"Do what you want with him. You can't hurt my business. You're a nobody." and he heard the beeping of the phone.

-

The door, half broken and rusty slowly creaked opened and the fear you felt when you first came here returned. Winwin stood up straight and greeted the man. He had long black hair, his gaze cold, almost predatory.

"Did you hear back from those bastards?" he spat out, glaring at Winwin.

There was an awkward silence from his side and he eyed him and looked back at you. Immediately understanding what it meant, you weakly laughed.

The whole situation was so funny to you when it finally clicked.

You came from a famous family full of businessmen. People so influential that every move you made had to be absolutely perfect- however to them, you were far from it. The first shock came to your father when you were fifteen years old and told him you wanted to be an artist, that you had no interest in the business. Second and the final straw was 2 days ago when you came out to him and he disowned you.

To think such educated men could have such shallow ideals.

You remembered your mother, how loving she was. If she were here she'd definitely accepted you. You remembered how she told you crying how all this success was a lie and she wanted you to stay as far away from it as possible, afterall you weren't like your father and brothers. You remembered how you saw her that night for the last time. You remembered how you heard them fight in the other room, your brothers had left the country to pursue their studies. You remembered how you heard her scream but your door was locked from the outside. You remembered vaguely seeing a blood stain in the carpet which magically disappeared the next day. You remembered the police labelling the case as a suicide, how there was literally no evidence found- how each and every corner of the house was checked except the locker your father held the keys to.

The realisation made your blood run cold.

Your father had borrowed a large sum of money from someone years ago to start his business. He always assured your mother he'd paid them back. The situation in front of you made it clear that your father has always been a selfish bastard.

The thoughts, the questions, the suspicions hit you like a train wreck and you started laughing loudly. Both men looked at you puzzled.

"I cannot, that fucker- no one's coming for me, he killed her and he'll kill me too. I'm gonna die here anyway. That's so funny. Its always been fucking money. It's more important to him than fucking accepting his son and supporting his wife." You said between your laughs as tears spilled through your eyes

The man knelt down, his eyes softened a bit, voice comforting yet distanced, he motioned Winwin to get out of the room and spoke,

"Hey, calm down. You're not gonna die here. I'll take care of him. I'm sorry I involved you into this. I'll let you go. Just an advice, don't go back there. Get your own place, you have a chance to disappear from his life. Take it. I'm Yukhei by the way, you can call me Lucas." he smiled a bit.

You blinked in confusion, looking for any signs of humour in his words but there were none. He sounded genuine. It puzzled you how he could switch up so quickly. It made you curious to know more about him. Lord have you gone insane.

"What if I don't wanna leave. What if I want to help you get rid of him?"

And he only smiled.

"I'm not alien to murderer, rich heartless fathers." he joked,

"And I thought I was unique." he laughed at your comment. He has a nice laugh. You thought. You wanted to hear it more. Its funny to you how you feel safer with a literal mafia leader than you've ever felt with your father.

You talked some more, growing fonder of him each passing second. You realised he's not as cold as he appears. He was just doing his job and truthfully your father was just a huge dick. He has such a bright smile. His eyes had this spark when he was talking about the people he works with. He was making your heart beat faster.

He took you to his room, gave you clean clothes to change into and made you eat.

"You know, Winwin likes you- he felt bad about whatever he did." you nodded as he continued, the room suddenly felt hotter than it was as he leaned closer,

"Too bad, I want to keep you to myself" He whispered in your ear before he held your chin and connected your lips together.

-

[itsevanffs]

hit 800k total in digital writing earlier this week! on ao3 i've got just shy of 400k published, so that just goes to show how much you guys don't see XD

but i'm still going strong! last year at this time i had 200k less (615k) which is absolutely buckwild to me. completely bonkers. 200k written just this year! that's over 15k a month, consistently! almost 4k a week! that's absolutely mind-boggling. where did these words come from.

i know i haven't been posting a lot this year (a lot of stressful things keep happening, like stairs) but i have been absolutely grinding at it behind the scenes, as this demonstrates.

anyways, a few announcements while i'm here:

new year, new me: i plan to change every single one my pfps to something i have demonstrable permission to use, by the new year at the latest. i'm still deciding on what; i do want to stick with it once i choose, because being quickly recognisable is important to me.

anabiosis is really close to being finished. like ridiculously close. i want it to be absolutely perfect so it'll be a little while off yet but i just wanted to let you know that it's almost done! woo!

i've finished the initial planning stage for itd in its entirety and am slowly working on rewriting each chapter. it'll be a while before i'm caught up with the published material right now; i won't actually publish any of it over the old stuff before i've reached that point, so rest easy for now. if you want to download the old version for safekeeping, feel free to do so! i will be keeping a personal copy of the old version permanently as well.

there is a chance, albeit not a very large one, that stepbro fic will be finished somewhere before valentine's day. no hard promises, but keep an eye out just in case!

that's all i wanted to say! thanks so much for reading my fics and being kind to me and each other above all!

[triumphantfury]

Hi!!! Just dropping by because I was missing your fics so I reread them and now I have to tell you how much I love you. I love you a lot, by the way. Like literally every time I read a chapter of yours I love you more because GAH the writing is so damn good. Ahem anyways thank you so much for the update on Wrapped in Red and I still have to fan myself every time I look at Upside, but I've been thinking the most about "To Suffer a Witch." I don't mean to put any pressure on you or anything but may I inquire on the next chapter's status? Or perhaps just request a snippet? Also when you asked the readers whether or not they'd like an eventual lemon I'd like to vote yes to the lemon. Please. Possibly-Demon Hiccup is hot as hell and I'm greedy. 😅

Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful writing with us and I hope you have a wonderful day, week, and at least a virtual cabin in the woods where you can relax, read, and at least think on writing!

Oh boy….

It’s taken me forever to get around to answering this ask, but as the new chapter update is almost complete (after way, WAY too many rewrites), I feel like I can finally post this reply with some measure of confidence. Sorry it’s taken so long. I wish I had a good excuse, but my brain sometimes just shuts me out.

Anyway, after much anticipation, and likely a little cursing, here’s an excerpt from the soon to be posted next chapter of TSaW:

*The next couple days seemed to drag by for Astrid. She felt trapped between a longing to see Hiccup again just to prove she wasn’t mad, and a strong urge to just write it all off as a delusion. Perhaps one brought on by some bad grain or curdled milk. Countless times she’d been sure she heard hoofbeats outside, only to have them grow into a roll of thunder the next second. Or she’d catch a glimpse of a dark shadow approaching on the road, only to have it melt from her sight a moment later as if swept away by the driving rain.

Some small part of her was starting to worry she was actually going mad. Her mood darkening as she channeled her other feelings into straight anger so as to help herself deal with it better. It wasn’t as if she could really speak of it to anyone, anyway. She was still too confused about it herself.

Resigned to bear this burden alone, Astrid had kept to herself as much as possible while trapped inside. Waiting impatiently for a break in the weather when she could distract herself with repairs outside instead. The Lord knows there was always plenty of work to keep her busy. That, and manual labour was better than wasting time dwelling on… Whatever it was that had occurred here the other night.

Fortunately - or maybe unfortunately - she’d soon discovered that the storm hadn’t done anywhere near as much damage as she’d expected given its ferocity. The house, shed, and barn had all weathered fair enough at least. An old tree had toppled near the back of the pasture though. She’d gone out to repair the section of broken fencing yesterday. Her brothers helping her as much as she would allow them to - which mostly meant keeping the opportunistic goats from escaping through the hole while she worked.

It had been while she was winding the last of the rope around the newly set post that Ruffnut had approached her from across the field. Somehow always keyed in to the local to-dos, Tuffnut had heard from one of their other neighbours that some people had started to fall ill in town. The worst of which was little Argh — Mr. and Mrs. Ack’s youngest son, who was not yet a full year into this world.

“Gunnar thinks it’s because of those witches that Trader Johan was talking about the other day,” Ruff stage-whispered over the fence. Her thumb gesturing towards the home on the far side of Mildew’s plot as she glanced around, as if to make sure no one else was within earshot.

“I’d be rather foolish to agree,” Astrid huffed. “It’s likely just been brought on by the rain. We all know that a chill in the air today sets a chill in the bones tomorrow.” Looking away from her gossipy neighbour, she dressed the knot as her father had taught her before pulling it good and tight. Then she stood and gave her work a proud once over. Nodding, as if to show her approval to the craftsman.

“Maybe…” Ruffnut’s hesitant reply trailed off thoughtfully, and she was chewing on her lip when Astrid at last looked her way again. It was almost as if she had something she wanted to say, but wasn’t sure if she should speak it aloud.

“Go on,” Astrid grumbled. “Whatever it is, spit it out.”

“Well, Gunnar told Tuff that Trader Johan said the evil, or what ever it is, would arrive first in the form of a black shadow on horse back…”

“Trader Johan has always enjoyed adding plenty of dramatic nonsense about ghosties, ghoulies, and other such things to his tales,” Astrid felt the need to point out. “He seems to think it makes the stories more exciting.”

“I know,” Ruff agreed. “Thing is, Tuffnut swears he saw a stranger dressed in all black when he was out in the woods yesterday. A stranger riding atop a huge black horse. When he tried to get a better look, man and horse were already gone. Maybe the horse was just really fast, but… Tuff said it gave him the creeps.” Her eyes were shifting all around again as she leaned closer over the fence, and she looked unexpectedly nervous.

“Oh, that was probably just…” Astrid’s words died on the way to her mouth as she thought better of it.

Astrid knew how Tuff felt. The unease of not being sure exactly what you had just born witness too. This did not mean that she should necessarily encourage him to repeat his tale. Especially when she didn’t yet know what to think of the whole thing.

Would it truly be wise to mention it to someone else? The twins had never been known for their discretion, and Astrid’s words would simply confirm Tuff’s suspicions — which he would then feel required to share with every person he came across. At best, it could cause a slight scandal that a young man had spent the night in their home. At worst, the superstitious townsfolk may think the Hofferson clan had entertained something entirely inhuman, instead.

No, it was best to keep what she knew of Hiccup Haddock to herself for now. Surely the others would learn of him soon enough. “Just… because Tuff was busy snacking on unknown mushrooms in the forest again.” Astrid finished awkwardly. Covering her near slip-up with an eye roll, just to be safe, and hoping Ruffnut wouldn’t notice.*

If anyone wants to read it, here’s a link to the rest of the story. Or at least the beginning…lol

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 3.5.2024

So, Polynya, did you finish the fanfic? Well...sort of? No. No, I guess the answer is actually no.

Last week, I said I had two and a half scenes left, one of which was the epilogue, and one scene I wanted to rewrite. I wrote the scene and a half that were not the epilogue, and then I tried to do that scene re-write. It came out better than it was, but I still didn't love it. I figured I would just go ahead and write the epilogue and then maybe come back and try again. 3/4 of the epilogue went great, and then I just couldn't manage to end it, and got stuck for three days. I went back and tried to re-write that scene I didn't like *again*, and barely got into before realizing that the way I was hoping to make it better did not, in fact. Yesterday, after Much Struggle, I managed to pull together an end to epilogue with is...okay...but I don't love it. So the current state of things is: 107,408 words, and it is strictly speaking, A Whole-ass Fanfic, but with two half-scenes that I hate.

It's really frustrating, because I had a bunch of productive weeks in a row, and my brain has just utterly collapsed on me in the eleventh hour. I've been trying so hard to push it over the finish line, but it's one of those things where I can't just brute force it, I need to somehow have a good idea. I am also so so tired this week. I know, logically, that probably I just need to relax and rest up for a few days and this will be easy to fix when I am feeling better, but it's hard to relax when I have this stupid almost-but-not-quite-done fanfic hanging over my head.

Here are some other stupid facts:

The scenes in question are important and I want them to be good, but they aren't exactly load-bearing, in the sense that nothing else depends on them

I don't even *need* the epilogue, and in fact, after I realized that I end all my Heart is a Muscle fics with people drinking (not on purpose, I'm just unoriginal), it made me want to drop the whole thing on principle (except that I also don't because it's sort of a thematic lead-in to the next story in the series and also Ukitake is there)

The two problem scenes are way at the end of the fanfic. When I do start posting this thing, I plan to post one chapter per week like I often do, meaning that I have literal months to fix these

Chapter 1 is beta'd and ready to go and literally nothing is stopping me from posting it this very second

BUT I don't want to post Chapter 1 until my beta has seen the whole fic because what if she notices something in Chapter 12 that needs to be fixed back in Chapter 1

AND literally nothing is stopping me from just sending my beta the last few chapters with a little note on the scenes I'm not happy with. It's highly possible she might have some ideas! Or just be like "you are insane these are fine"!

EXCEPT I don't want her to see my bad writing that I am embarrassed about

And so, here we are. I am probably going to give it another day or two, and if I can't manage to fix those two scenes, I'll just suck it up and send the rest to her.

I guess I also should re-do the banner, except I don't feel like re-doing the banner. It's....okay. I don't know. I just kind of slapped it together based on a thing we were doing at Art Club. Maybe I don't even want a banner.

Speaking of Art Club, it's March now, which meant there was a new theme at Art Club (nature) and I decided to try to get back into my daily drawing. I think this is possibly what killed my momentum on my fanfic. I am just literally only capable of having one priority at a time, even if it's a little tiny one, otherwise my brain just plays tug of war with my priorities and it's hard to manage either of them.

Anyway, I've been in kinda rough shape for the last few days, but I am sure it will pass. It's got some good bits, but I think I just never really managed to fall in love with this one, and I'm really worried about it getting a cooler reception than I'm used to, since the fandom seems to have quieted down significantly since the last time I posted one of these. On the other hand, I've worked too hard on this to not post it. Also, it's got some stuff in it that had to happen for the series to progress. And maybe other people will like it! Who knows! Not me!!

I had hoped to be able to start posting it this week, but that's not looking likely at this point, so I guess you can have another preview.

--- from Ch 3

"You really didn't have to go to all this trouble," Rukia pointed out, as she methodically piled her bowl with a heaping serving of everything on offer.

Renji grabbed a big pinch of the shirasu before passing it over to her. "It's fine. I'm not sure when I'll be up for cooking again, so I'm trying to clean out my fridge."

"Oh, so I'm helping?"

Renji grinned. "Sure."

"I love helping! If you need me to take this pickled ginger with me, I could take it off your hands."

"I think the pickles will probably keep for a bit."

"Hmmph," Rukia replied skeptically, and scooped some more into her bowl.

It was always difficult not to just sit and watch Rukia eat, in part because she truly did have an extraordinary talent for shoveling food into her mouth, but mostly because it reminded Renji of why they had come to the Seireitei in the first place, of how lucky he was these days. You have to go to work, too, this morning, he reminded himself, and dug in.

"You know, speaking of helping…" Rukia said a few minutes later, once she'd managed to eat enough to shave the edge of her morning ravenousness. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

The pleasant feelings in Renji's chest abruptly turned cold and gloppy. He frowned, and raised one eyebrow skeptically. “Yeah?”

Rukia looked up at him with her big, stupidly blue eyes. “Do you remember when we talked about how important it was for you to have a comfortable and peaceful recovery from your surgery?”

“I do. I distinctly remember asking you to drop it and not bring it up, again, actually.”

“Right, well, I never actually agreed to that. I think that you should come stay at my house.”

Renji gave her an incredulous look. “Your house? Kuchiki Manor, you mean? Your house that is actually my captain’s house?”

“It’s very nice there, as you know. The food really is very good and we have a million servants with nothing better to do--”

“I am sure they have better things to do, Rukia.”

“--and you can sit in a sunny spot in the garden and I’ll read you books and it will be so much nicer than staying in the Coordinated Relief Station!”

Renji heaved a huge, exasperated sigh. “It’s a nice idea, Rukia, but think about the look on Captain’s face if you even--”

“He said it was okay.”

Renji felt all the blood run out of his face, possibly out of his body entirely. “You asked him?”

“I know you’re only getting it done because he ordered you to. He obviously wants you to do your best to heal up well. He cares about you, too, you know, in his own way.” 

Renji stiffened, his fingers tightening on his chopsticks. “You probably told him the whole story, then? How I broke my arm in the first place?” His voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere far away.

“Not the whole thing!" Rukia shook her head vehemently. "He knows you broke it saving me, that's the only important part.”

Renji drew in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. All he could focus on was the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears. “Why do you always have to do this?” he finally managed through gritted teeth. “I asked you to just leave it, but you never can.”

Rukia shoved out her lower lip. “Maybe if you took care of yourself half as well as you take care of everyone else, I would!” she protested. “Just let me spoil you for a few days, would it be so terrible?”

“Yes.”

[autisticblueteam]

Appears from the ether again, after months of only being present enough to fill my queue up, with some WIP snippets from the gen:LOCK re-write I mentioned before...

And also finally adressing these tags lmao, sorry @thesouppond I realise these are like 3 months old.

#FUCK IM JUST SEEING THIS NOW???#FUCK YEAH 2024 SEASON OF EVERYONE GETS TO REWRITE GENLOCK CAUSE FUCK S2#Ahem anyway hi genlock moot :)))#I love your writing btw! Ive read your existing GL fics theyre great!#at this point if someone can give me a GL fic i havent already met I will forever be indebted to you i am DYING for GL content

We're really out here trying our best to do better by GL than HBO did huh!! I've been loving Reloaded, it was so nice to see someone else pop up in the gL tag after it was comparatively dead for so long. I've been working on my re-write since just after s2 came out and it was lonely in there for a while there lmao.

So I'm glad you enjoyed the couple of fics I've already done! I'm re-using parts of one of them for the actual re-write since I'm going for the 'keep the basic bones of s2 but aim to fix the execution into something less shit/re-work the worst bits' and I didn't want to write that first nemesis fight over again from total scratch lmao...

I want to finish writing all of the re-write before I post it in full, but that does mean it's taking forever whoops.

I'm still not past the introduction of Sinclair as his portion is so involved and I keep getting distracted by other projects/hobbies, but I did finally get to a point where my take on Sinclair is actually fun to write! I'm keeping his boyfriend because I did at least like that Sinclair was made canonically queer and they're actually cute when I'm just doing my own thing.

So since I feel like posting some WIP bits, here's my favourite Chris/Sinclair stuff I've done so far.

“YEAH! Take that you fucked up tin can!” Sinclair winced. The shout was like an ice pick being driven into his skull, but it was also what finally drove him to lift his head. There ahead of him, wielding a large piece of debris in one hand, was a heavyset Asian man dressed in torn clothes and covered in grime. He reared back, and for a split second Sinclair thought that projectile was for him, until he heard an impact, and the last of the humming died. The man brushed off his hands, pride written on every feature, and in that moment he was the most beautiful thing Sinclair had ever seen. “Coast’s clear!” the stranger called behind him. There was movement, but Sinclair didn’t care to look, his attention caught by the man’s approach. “And we’ve got a live one.” Sinclair’s throat was so dry he broke down coughing twice, in the time it took the stranger to kneel in front of him. “I-I’m not Union. I-I know— with the uniform, and the—” Another violent burst of coughing cut him off. The stranger handed him a canteen and a crooked smile. “Yeah, no shit. You’ve got way too much emotion on your face to be even a defector,” he said, and if Sinclair wasn’t so busy chugging the offered water, he might have mustered a laugh. “That, plus, the lack of helmet, the collapsing, and the drone getting ready to turn you into a novelty cheese grater kinda gave it away.” “Christ, I could kiss you right now,” Sinclair blurted and then regretted in quick succession. Fuck. He’d been in near solitary too long, his filter had worn away to nothing and he was making a damn fool of himself in front of the first sane people he’d seen in weeks. Except the stranger just… laughed, good-naturedly. “Close, the name’s Chris, not Christ. And I’d say buy me dinner first, but it’s a bit hard out here.”

AND then a little later...

“What about the refugee railroads?” Chris lowered his beer bottle and wiped his mouth. “Too far.” “Vanguard safe crossings?” “Too far.” “The— fucking Canadian border?” Chris laughed, “Too far. Further than either of the other things. Jesus, dude. You sure you haven’t got a concussion?” “Mostly,” Sinclair said, rubbing his face with his intact hand. “I just— you’re going to die if you stay here. A drone only has to get lucky once.” “And if we go deeper in, we’ll only die faster,” Chris said with a simple shrug. “We already have to pack up and move every few weeks when the line moves. And every time, the Polity border gets a little bit further away. Believe me, man, I want nothing more than to get outta here, but it’s just not happening.” “What if I helped?” The offer fell out before he’d consciously decided to make it, but Sinclair stood by it. Even when Chris looked at him dubiously. “No offence, dude, but you’re just one guy. And two days ago you could barely stand.” “And now I’m fine,” Sinclair insisted. “I’m a soldier. I was decorated for valour after I got my squad out of a run-in with the Union that should’ve killed us all. I was the only one who could even still hold a gun. I swear, I could get you somewhere safe. Are you really telling me you’d rather keep sitting around waiting to die than take a risk?” Chris’s brow furrowed, and he didn’t answer immediately, taking another swig from his scratched up bottle of beer. Sinclair sighed. “Look. I need to get to a Vanguard base one way or another. I don’t want to leave you guys behind if I don’t have to. I owe you my life. And maybe dinner.” Chris almost choked on his drink. “Wow,” he laughed, clearing his throat, “you sure pick your moments, huh?” Sinclair shrugged. “Figure if you’re not actually into it I’ll just blame the concussion.” “That you don’t have.” “Exactly.” Chris rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Smooth. Smooth operator. Alright, alright, fine, we’ll talk to the others in the morning. It might be a tougher sell when they’re not the ones getting dinner with a hot soldier out of it, but hey, guess we’ll see.” “Are you looking past the just-got-done-being-tortured chic, here, or is that part of the charm?” “Are you kidding? There’s a whole genre focused on how hot soldier guys look after they’ve been through hell.” “Not sure that’s the intended takeaway of action movies.” “Well,” Chris shrugged, starting to pick at a can of food, “it was definitely my takeaway.” Sinclair laughed. Honest-to-god laughed, in a way he was surprised he was even capable of after the last few weeks. The normality of the moment was like a balm on all the aching parts of him, mental and physical alike. For a moment he could almost forget that the reason he looked like shit was because he’d just escaped the worst experience of his life. For a moment it felt like the fight was over.

Now I just have to actually get through the remainder of my Sinclair set-up and then I'll be only one chapter away from finishing the first half of the fic... so close and yet so far lmao.

[bomberqueen17]

aw poop

Last night as I was lying on the couch trying to get the energy to go to bed I remembered that it was Saturday and Friday comes before Saturday and I'd been trying to post fic updates on Fridays. so that's how long it took me to notice the passage of linear time.

Update schedules are for the birds. I think I proofread the chapter? I was doing it one at a time so I'd have time to go back in and make my decisions about the final chapter and write that, and I have in all these weeks made about ten words of progress on that. I've thought about it a lot! But I've written thousands of words on other projects instead, lollll. That's how this goes; the words will come when I have thought of them enough, and also when other stuff stops being shiny for a moment.

The one where Ciri goes to Vergen and Does Not Meet Saskia is nearly complete except that I got to the climax and halfassed it in the interests of getting it done, which is great but now I have to like. You know. Rewrite it to be good. It's structurally there! I just basically have placeholder paragraphs. Little wooden blobs of sentences that approximately convey the action beats and have zero actual description or immediacy or poignancy of any kind. They exist! The story is technically complete! But they are terrible. Fortunately @bittylildragon has annotated them and i just have to muster my strength to figure out how to work those annotations plus my lumpy rough clay into some kind of finished polished thing worthy of all the goddamned setup I did.

(This is largely how pantsing works, btw, of the plotting-vs-pantsing procedural divide. I could not have outlined that, I had to write it. It might be easier for you to expand an outline than revise a terrible draft, but that is not the case for me, and I have learned this through a great deal of experimentation. You can plot all you want, I am apparently contractually obligated to pants or the words no worky.)

So anyway I have a day crammed chock-full of All Of My Weekend so I'm not sure when I'll get to the update but I will! It exists and is ready probably!! It just always takes me like half an hour at least of concentrated effort to put up even a well-proofread final version of a chapter because it involves switching between multiple tabs and even in a perfect scenario that's pretty high-stakes for my rabid ferret of an attention span, and this course of Ditzifying Antibiotics has multiplied those risk factors by like a million. (I am so dumb y'all.)

Anyway at some point there will be a torrent of words posted but idk when. Probably tomorrow there will be a tidy 6k or so words posted, about the one with the dogs.

[sleptwithinthesun]

y'all're way too nice. i genuinely forced out the last fic i posted and might just end up rewriting it later, but i'm trying to write the au chronologically so there aren't continuity errors, and that one needed to be finished before i could work on the next few.

anyway.

here's ~1.2K detailing the first time s/teve and n/ancy try inducing j/onathan :) hope you like it because THIS is where the fun starts

"Is this okay?"

Jonathan shrugs, his knees tucked up to his chest and parted slightly for Steve and Nancy to access his face. His back is against the headboard of their bed, and he's twisting his fingers together nervously. "I think so," he says, managing to prevent his voice from curling upward at the end and turning into a question.

Nancy smiles at him, and Steve reassures, "Don't be nervous, Jon. Whatever happens is fine. Don't feel pressured because of us."

He nods, but the anxiety building in his chest is too much for him to speak around. It's taken a while for him to come around to the idea of letting them induce him, despite how willing he initially was to put it on the table, and now, he might be regretting it.

"Hey," Nancy says, putting a hand on his knee. "Be honest, Jonathan. Do you not want to do this?"

Jonathan swallows. His throat is too dry. "I want to," he says. "I do."

"Are you sure?"

He nods. "Yes." His voice comes out a little steadier that time, and Nancy and Steve relax a bit.

"Alright," Steve says, picking up one of the pillows and examining it for a long moment before plucking out a feather. "We're going to start small, okay? Tell us if you're uncomfortable at any time, and we'll stop as soon as you say so. We've both done this before, so if anything gets to be too much, we know how to dial it back. Okay?"

"Okay," Jonathan whispers.

It's... kind of awkward. Likely because Jonathan feels awkward sitting there and letting Nancy slide a feather into his nostrils, but also, just because the situation itself is fairly unorthodox. He's never been into anything specific, in regard to sex, and has no experience with this particular kink.

"Does it tickle?" Nancy asks quietly, using her fingertips to slowly twist the feather around. She's hitting all the soft walls of his nostril, getting the barbs to brush right up against the mucus membranes.

Jonathan hums in affirmation, then pulls away a second later to bring his shirt up over his face and sneeze quietly, suppressing it the way he always does. "Sorry," he says the second he pulls his shirt down, and Steve only smirks at him.

"Don't apologize. That's kind of the point, though, it would be nice if you lost the shirt so that you couldn't hide your face," he says, and Jonathan flushes. "Stick to your boundaries, though."

He takes the feather from Nancy, inserting it into the other nostril and wiggling it around. They have different methods, he realizes; while Nancy prefers to take it slow, teasing him, Steve goes quickly, almost rushing, and it's a matter of about thirty seconds before Jonathan pulls away to sneeze again. "Oh," he says, blinking.

"What's going on?" Steve asks.

Jonathan sniffles. "That one felt, like, uh... more than the first one. Does that make sense?"

Nancy nods. "Yeah. Harsher?"

"I... think so."

"It looked like it, too," she comments. "You backed up more urgently."

And that is definitely not a normal thing to notice.

Something must show on his expression, because Nancy's eyes suddenly go wide. "Oh, shit. Was that too weird?"

"It's weird, but good-weird," he says. "Because it's you-weird, and Steve-weird, and I love both of you."

"You're so fucking sappy," Steve says, and kisses him. "Are you ready for more?"

"Yeah," he says, actually feeling confident this time. "Keep going."

"If you say so," Nancy sing-songs, then slides the feather back in. "This time, try not to sneeze for as long as you can, okay?"

Jonathan nods, wincing when the position of the feather changes. Nancy's careful to adjust it, spinning it slowly as the itch and irritation builds up slowly. He scrunches up his nose a couple times in an attempt to alleviate the feeling, and Steve laughs a bit.

"You look like a little bunny rabbit when you do that," he teases, and Jonathan bites his lip to keep from either talking back to Steve or sneezing.

He scrunches his nose up again.

Nancy giggles. "You're right," she says to Steve. "He does look like a bunny rabbit. Very cute, Jonathan, thank you for that."

Jonathan laughs a bit, then does his best to clamp down on the rising urge to sneeze, the feeling blossoming quickly in the very back of his sinuses and buzzing in his face. His breath hitches once, twice, before he takes back control of it, forcing himself to breathe steadily.

"You getting close to needing to sneeze, Jon?" she asks, pushing the feather in just a tiny bit further and twisting it again.

"Y-yeah," he mumbles, sniffling again.

"Keep it back," she demands, a second before she lefts the feather brush against the very back of his nose, right where he assumes the olfactory nerves must be, and he gasps before throwing a hurried string of four into his elbow. He manages to stifle all but the last one, and it slips out in a tiny "hgk'sh!"

"Bless you," Steve murmurs, his eyes practically glinting with lust. "That was good, Jon."

He ducks his head. "I still have to sneeze," he confesses.

"You need help?" Nancy asks, offering up the feather. She waits for Jonathan to nod shyly before tracing around the edges of his nose in a figure eight pattern, and Jonathan shakes his head slightly at the sudden irritation.

Nancy's face breaks into a grin at that, and she beckons Steve over. "Do the thing," she says, still working at him, and Jonathan is given no time to even wonder what that means before Steve's finger is tracing lightly down the bridge of his nose.

"Nancy, that reahh! Really tickles," he murmurs.

"It's supposed to," she teases, and finally moves the feather back into his nostrils, attacking the areas just below Steve's finger. Jonathan's breath stutters, but he doesn't sneeze, not yet. Nancy's being careful not to let him, and he feels tears of irritation prick at his eyelashes. He's not even allergic to feathers, and yet.

"You almost there, Jon?" Steve asks, and he nods, closing his eyes. "Alright, we'll wrap it up."

The feather suddenly twists, changing direction, and brushes up against something that's really sensitive, because he's sneezing down into his lap with absolutely no warning and no ability to stifle them. "hk'sHhu!"

"Bless you."

"ESH'uh!"

"Bless you." From Nancy, that time.

"h'esHh'uh!"

"Bless you."

"Nance, he's gonna—"

"hk'shh!"

"Bless you," Nancy emphasizes, running a hand through his hair. "Shit, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he replies, blinking shyly up at her and Steve. "Was, um... was that okay?"

Steve grins. "That was perfect, Jon."

He smiles back at them, a bit sheepish. "You want to do any more of that tonight, or wait?"

"If you're up to it, then I'd definitely want to do more," Nancy says, and Steve nods in agreement. "Jonathan?"

"I'm good," he says. "That was... good, I guess."

Nancy snorts and Steve laughs a bit. "Baby's first time," he teases, and Nancy only laughs harder. "Alright, Jon, round two."

He nods, and it begins.

[the-era-of-shadow]

Woah, I made an animatic!

It's been a while since I've done that, eh?

Please do enjoy! And after watching it, if you want some general AU updates, click past the cut below!

So uh, first things first - there's your explanation for where TDTMD Act 2 Chapter 3 is. It'll come out some time in January unless some big autism moment like this happens again, sorry for the wait y'all!

Honestly, like I said in the video's description, I didn't plan for this to take all month - it was originally meant to be for Eclipse's birthday but. Delays happened.

But enough about the month gone past - or even the year gone past! I just KNOW you all wanna know what we have in store for 2024!

Firstly - TDTMD Act 2 Case 01 will still be coming out as it has been! Right now I have 5 planned chapters for Case 01 - and we're like, halfway there! Crazy, huh? But... What do I mean by "Case 01" anyway? Well, you see, TDTMD Act 2 is actually an anthology of sorts! A collection of stories that are all connected by the theme of the Black Arms' effect on PetalBloom - three stories to be exact! Each case is to have 5 chapters each, resulting in Act 2 as a whole having 15 chapters! Quite a lot! But worry not, those who are looking forward to things other than TDTMD, for I am not going to be writing all three cases back to back, no no!

After Case 01 is finished - I've scheduled myself to write a new side story - the FINAL side story for Arc 1! "But Ash, you finished Arc 1 like 2 years ago! Why are you still writing side stories attached to it?", well, mainly because my brain gets on my case about how the writing isn't as good as my newer stuff and how "unbalanced" Arc 1 and Arc 2 are in terms of content - so I'm doing this to make it shush. But also I saw potential still to be found within Arc 1's events, so, yeah! After this post goes up I'm gonna add the name of that side story to the pinned post for hype and all that :]

After THAT - I'm finally gonna go a bit into the catalogue of documented but not written Origins stories listed on the pinned post with The Englishman With The Devil's Eyes. I've been wanting to get to this one for a while now but stuff kept getting in between me and it. But no longer! For after the last Arc 1 side story, Devil's Eyes will finally have it's moment - no matter what! But... I know what you wanna hear...

New Main Stories?? - Yes yes, I hear you. Enough with the Origins and the side stories - when are we getting back to Arc 2 proper? Well aren't you in luck! Being preceded by a short side story oneshot, Mission: FOX FRENZY - the third main installment of Arc 2, will indeed be the next in line after Devil's Eyes! Not to spoil too much, but this one goes out to all you Garrick fans~! 🤭

Beyond That - I have a whole schedule planned that carries to the end of Arc 2 - both officially with the LONG awaited rewrite of Something to Bond Over, and spiritually with TDTMD Act 3 and more importantly, it's corresponding Moonlight Interlude. (what do I mean by that? You'll see~), but if I were to explain the whole of it now, why, this post would be like the new color of the sky! So I'll do it in increments~ All you need to know rn is that I plan to finish Arc 2 this year.

Lastly - The non fic stuff! The most important, I think, is the whole deal with CoC and it's cancellation. I won't go into the why of CoC being cancelled here - but rather, how it effects TEoS going forward. If you were unfamiliar, CoC was to be a webcomic that was a spinoff/crossover with TEoS. It was vaguely referenced in Innate Affiliation - meaning that it needs a replacement. That replacement is... kind of in the works as we speak - I plan to truly start remaking it into the role in February. All I'll say for now is that it's going to be another Sonic AU this time rather than an AU from another franchise. Other than that - I have a special YT video in mind to come out after the Arc 1 side story, won't say what it is yet but, I really hope you'll enjoy it - it's... gonna cost me a pretty penny. Also, this animatic (you forgot that this was the original point of the post, didn't you?) was made completely in Ibis - but after this I'm completely switching over to Clip Studio Paint! I've already been messing around with it since Xmas though - I'm very much willing to show what I've made with it so far! In fact, I think I'll do that on the main art blog later tonight!

I think that's all I have to say! Happy New Years Eve everyone! (Or just New Years if you're one of those time traveling Aussies /silly) Here's to a prosperous 2024!

[a-force-dyad-in-space]

A Fanfic Update

Hey guys, I thought I should give you an update about what's going on Ongoing-WIPs-wise just in case you've had some worries.

The short of it is that the writing juices haven't flowed well for a while now and I'm trying to get them back but it is a struggle. I've worked a bit on this fic or other but haven't made significant progress in a few months. I absolutely hope that will change soon but I unfortunately can't force it. It doesn't help that I'm going through some stuff IRL right now that I have to take care of (I am unfortunately an adult who has to do adulting and pay bills and shit 🥲). I try not to be too stressed out about it, but the more time passes the more the anxiety sets in. Wish me luck. 💪🏻

Anyway, here's a fic-by-fic overview, split up by fandom.

THE UNTAMED

The Angsty SongXue Fic — I'll be honest, I've written a little bit since I last updated you guys but I still haven't finished the buffer chapter (at this point I'm thinking about posting chapter 51 even though 52 isn't done yet), so nothing really new here. I really want to get back into a writing flow but so far it hasn't really worked. I am still working on it, though, so don't worry, I'm not going to drop it.

The It Follows AU — I'm ashamed to say I didn't even realize I posted that fic almost two years ago and I still haven't written the second half. I'm so sorry it's taking so long! I definitely still want to finish it! I might rewatch the It Follows movie before I do that, though.

The Observer Series — Oh yeah, remember that smutfic series I started a few years ago of which I've only posted part 1 so far? Yeah, I still need to work on that. I did write chapter 1 of part 2 a while ago, so it's not like it's forgotten, I just need to get my ass up and write the rest of part 2 before I can post it. 🙈

The Color Rush AU — Okay, technically I haven't posted that one yet but I did share a snippet along with a gifset a few years ago, so you guys know it exists. I haven't worked on it in a long time, though, and I don't know yet when I will find the spoons to continue writing it but I'm still intrigued by the premise and want to give it a go. Thank you for your patience!

The Somewhat Sweet, Somewhat Angsty XuanXian Fic — Again, haven't posted that one yet but I've been posting about it, so you guys know it exists. Nothing new on this front. I did want to rewrite the whole thing because I wasn't really happy with the way I wrote it thus far, so I'll probably go back to it at some point and do that, I just don't know when yet.

WORD OF HONOR

The Xie'er Deserves the World Fic — Listen, guys, I love this fic so much, I just haven't worked on it in a while. I'll probably re-read what I've written so far and go on from there, I've just been struggling with the latest chapter ever since I started writing it years ago. It's not dropped, though, I will get back to it! Pinky swear!

SAILOR MOON

I've mentioned here and there that I'm working on part 1 of an epic that is based on a doujinshi I started when I was 13 or 14. Unlike my other WIPs, this one really is 100% self-indulgent to the point where I don't even care whether people will read/like it once I post it when it's completely done. I'll just put it out there to make my teenage self happy because this story has been simmering in my head for over 20 years, and so that my IRL friends can read it if they want to. So, this one will be a long way out, but it exists. I'm only really mentioning it because I've mentioned it a couple of times before and because it's the fic that's been on my mind the most lately.

STAR WARS

You didn't think I forgot about TROBS, did you????? I did work on several beginnings of a draft during NaNoWriMo last year and I'm getting more and more of a clear picture of how I want it to go. For those unfamiliar, TROBS (or The Rise of Ben Skywalker, though I already changed the name of the fic again) is my attempt at an Episode IX fix-it fic that essentially replaces TROS. This one has been simmering in my head since early 2020 and I really want to get it out of there and onto the page for catharsis. I've even held off on reading any other TROS fix-its because of it, even though I've heard there are some really amazing ones out there (and I can't wait to read them once I've gotten my own out of my damn head). I really need to finally finish that beast. Wish me luck. 🥲

UNPOSTED WIPs

I still have so many notes for other fics (mostly for The Untamed) that I want to write at some point. Will I be able to get them all on the page? I honestly don't know, but I'll see where they take.

Anyway, that's all!