#i wrote this fic now if you want to read it

[ao3commentoftheday]

Hi, sorry if this has been asked before, but I'm in a bit of a pickle? I've always enjoyed reading multiple stories with the same kind of premise or exploring the same au in a different way. And quite often I'll come across a concept in another story that I like or inspires me, but want to write it in a different way. But in recent years I've had fandom friends that find people doing that to be basically 'copying' or even bordering on art theft? And now I'm almost petrified to write any of these stories because I'm concerned the author of a similiar story might come and claim I'm copying them. I love the 'yay two cakes!' idea, but some other writers are (understandably) protective of their ideas and aus and I don't want to push anyone's buttons. Is there a strict etiquette to these things?

So here's the thing, anon. I'm gonna be straight* with you. I do not understand fanfiction authors who have a problem with people writing a similar premise to theirs. The whole point of fanfic is to take someone's idea and then do your own twist on it.

To me, copying a fic is taking the exact same story and switching the names or something similarly egregious. I once wrote a story at the same time as another author that included all of these elements in common: College AU, Sex Because Science, Friends to Lovers, researching orgasms, measuring arousal with a watch-like device, classmates being too nosey, pranks, and probably other things that I'm not remembering because this was like 10 years ago. Neither one of us was copying the other. We just had a really similar idea that we both happened to write.

It was that kinda ship, what can I say?

Authors who have that reaction have probably had poor experiences in the past and are being overly vigilant (or even aggressive) as a result. Either that, or they are in a social group with an author who is acting like that, and they've been influenced by them to feel the same way.

At least some of the time, the protective instinct is based on comparing the two stories and seeing who has more comments and kudos and hits. Or believing that the fact that there are 2 similar stories means that fewer people will end up reading both of them. That's a common type of insecurity and/or anxiety amongst creators as a whole, and it's just manifest in this case around inspired by works.

We're all playing with dolls here, but if that doll belongs to a fellow fan (like an OC or an entirely new world, for example) then you really should ask if you can borrow it first.

When it comes to plots and headcanons, though, the polite thing to do is to reach out to the author if you're worried your idea is too similar to theirs, or just use the "inspired by" link if you feel like your story stands on its own. And remember, you can shout people out in the author's notes and even link to a tumblr post if that's where your idea came from.

I'm 10000% in favour of crediting where an idea came from. I'm more wary of claiming sole ownership. That's kind of an Anne Rice move.

[b14augrana]

‘Kiss of Strife’

Football has always been your safe haven, but your home life gradually starts to manifest in different ways away from home, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your captain

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

pt. 2 masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of family issues associated with emotional unavailability and forms of abuse. please tap out if this content makes you uncomfortable and read at your own discretion

A/N: an alexia x teen!reader angst fic was requested so here it is!! i decided this will be multiple parts as well so i hope you enjoy this chapter and the rest of this little series

(i wrote this pretty late at night and it isnt proofread so please excuse any mistakes regarding the tense, grammar etcetc)

Everything is perfect.

You’re scoring goals for your club and bagging assists. Your name is no longer a strange string of consonants and vowels but a recognisable word within the community of Cataluña, and it is only because of an ambition you dedicated the rest of your life to pursuing.

That’s just in the face of football though.

At home, there is a drought. The four walls of a family house are meant to behave like a dam which stores love and affection in the place of water, but your house is devoid of that.

Your house fosters a bitterness that doesn’t go hand in hand with anything along the lines of love and affection. The drawings on the fridge, created by a 5-year-old you, have faded over time, the ink being nothing more than splotches in some areas — a testament to the lack of care and attention your efforts received.

Relationships are barely surviving on simple greetings and empty ‘I love yous’. You crave something that is dangerous to want, but in your heart burns a desire to get the hell out.

Your lullaby is the faint yelling from the living room as you shut your eyes and focus on the gradually increasing volume of both voices, contradicting each other and trying to stab each other with no blade.

Your little sister crawls into your bed, her body flush against yours, another little arm wrapped around hers. Beneath your covers, there is warmth. Beneath your grip, there is safety.

During the school holidays, a child is supposed to savour every waking moment they spend at home and appreciate every day of it. You find yourself asking God why that isn’t the case, as you walk to practise with your sister’s hand in yours.

She sits on the sidelines picking grass as you train with your teammates, dreading the inevitable passing of minutes as you practise skill after skill. When you retreat to the bench for a quick water break, she runs up to you, bunches of chamomiles clutched in her hands that she begs to insert between the weaving of your braid.

From the day of your first training with the team, Alexia was drawn to you. She blamed it on her captain instincts, seeing as you’re the youngest on the team and therefore has the most potential, but now it’s gone beyond her captaincy. She’s known you for months, almost a full year now. She isn’t just your captain anymore.

She isn’t aware of the reality of your home life beyond the telltale signs such as the slightly sunken skin below your eyes or the bruises that taint your skin and are allegedly caused by your ‘clumsiness’. She knows there is something more to the extra effort you constantly put into training and games — she doesn’t know yet that it’s the pent up anger, sadness and fear manifesting in more productive forms.

You pour your heart and soul into the movement of the ball, in hopes that you can pursue your dreams of running away from what is restricting you from pursuing even greater dreams, an actual dream.

School starts back up for your sister. Things have been looking up for you, a huge burden off your shoulders. The house hasn’t shaken with another argument for a while and for once you get to know what silence is while you sleep, really sleep.

With every passing day, you find your memories with your father to resemble a garden; you can’t have a garden without flowers, just like how you can’t have memories of him without doing anything with him. When you were young, your garden was comparable to a rainforest, a new species in every corner, a kaleidoscope of beauty..

Until there was no more new species to plant and nurture, and the ones that already existed were getting neglected because all that you receive when you look at them are sour memories of what once was — the gardener you used to be, how rich the soil was, how steadily the flowers grew and how proud you were of your garden.

Your garden is dead now. It has gotten to the point where he doesn’t care about planting new flowers or watering the plants that already exist, leaving them to die of thirst. He’s absent and his emotional unavailability killed your flowers.

The little girl in you that wanted nothing else but love from her parents, loved that garden with her whole heart. She would’ve done anything she could to plant one more flower, she would’ve used the last drop of water in a drought to water her plants.

Alexia noticed something different about you today. The way you bounced around rather than the usual trudge… you had actual, sleep-induced energy.

Your sister also isn't with you. Alexia later asks you about it while you two are getting water and she learns that your sister is at school, and there is a smile on your face that she didn’t even realise had been absent for days until she saw it again.

Alexia has always been nice to you. The others treat you like a teammate, but she treats you like a friend. It feels like a special privilege, knowing ‘La Reina’ personally. She’s obviously a pillar in women’s football but to you, she’s much more.

She harbours a soft spot for you in her heart that becomes evident when she asks you if you need a ride home, and who are you to turn down such an offer when the ache in your legs is close to becoming unbearable?

“You’re talented, chica,” the woman says as you slink into the passenger seat of her car. “I haven’t had the chance to say it, but there hasn’t been a player like you for quite a bit.”

Her praise is so much more than just a couple of words from your captain. Though you smile and say a shy thank you, your heart races because you’ve just been called talented by one of the best players in the world, and there is no feeling greater than that. It gives you a tiny sliver of hope for a brighter future than what you’re already living, and for a moment, escaping your four walls seems possible.

The joy you experienced during the whole car ride is short lived once her car pulls into your driveway. Perhaps she can see the way your expression drops and your demeanour falls, because her hand finds your shoulder and squeezes it in a way that comforts you. “Do you want me to walk you to the door?” she asks, and though you really wish she could, you shake your head for the better.

There’s a slight frown on her face before she nods and drops her hand. You think about the possibility of her knowing that there’s something going on behind the closed doors of your home, and a big part of you hopes so, but no words besides a ‘gracías’ and ‘adios’ manage to find their way out of your mouth despite the pleas for help and support bubbling in your throat as you shut the door of her car.

When you reach the patio, the door opens to bombard you with the raucous of an argument happening around the corner of the hallway.

Your limbs are barely functioning and your eyes are struggling to stay open which is an obvious sign of the exhaustion soaring through your body, hence why you skip right past seeing your parents and beeline towards your sister’s room.

For as long as you can remember, arguments have been a consistent part of evenings spent in your household. Sometimes violence finds itself becoming the last resort, leaving you stuck to bear the brunt of a heavy hand. It’s what happens when two sides of the same coin try to work out — two negatives can’t make a positive, it’s impossible for them to get along and there is never a last word. That’s the unfortunate reality of your parents’ relationship.

You sink into the soft mattress of your sister’s bed and beckon her from the desk to lay beside you. She flips her paper over and abandons the seat to run over to you, her little body falling into your embrace. When she asks you what they’re talking about this time, you tell your sister that they’re just having a little disagreement, and if she sleeps it off, it’ll go away. It’s a promise, you say, before you proceed to tell her all about your training and your teammates. It’s her favourite thing, and she says it’s better than a bedtime story.

In no time, little exhales slip past her mouth as her eyes flutter shut, and you roll her off your body, tucking her into the butterfly printed duvet. With tentative steps across the hardwood, you find yourself at her desk and your fingers ghost over the piece of paper as you squint to read it in the dimness of her nightlight.

‘Mi papá hermana guapa

My sister is strong. She plays fútbol and she is good at it. My sister takes care of me and takes me to her pracktise, I like going with my sister. She helps me sleep and when I am with my sister, I am not scared. I am proud of m–…’

And the rest trails off. The body remains incomplete, but there’s one last sentence at the bottom of the page.

‘Amo a mi hermana.’

You place it back on her desk as you fail to combat the tears flooding your waterline. ‘She must’ve been instructed to write a poem by her teacher… for Father’s Day’, you think to yourself. Turning away so you don’t ruin her writing with your tears, you wiped them with the back of your Barça jacket sleeve and flipped the page around before making a dead silent exit. The house was completely still beside the low noise of talking from the TV and light snoring.

Your tears are not because of happiness. No, they stream down your face because it’s then that you realise something, and it opens up a whole new portal of questions.

As the streak of silence is broken and you’re forced to fall asleep to the low humming noise from the living room and a restless mind, you wonder what twisted realm of anger and bitterness your father lives in that forbids him from showing the smallest signs of love to his kids.

But, you already know the answer to that question, deep down. Instead, you wonder if you’ll see Alexia tomorrow, stretching in her usual spot, and you wonder if she’ll look up and smile at you again and invite you over.

You hope that’s what will happen. You pray for it.

[homestylehughes]

my beautiful girl

pairing(s): luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke cheering up his pregnant girlfriend after feeling down about how she looks.

warning(s): pure fluff, little suggestive towards the end.

wc: 571

an: hi loves!!! i wrote this fic in like 20 minutes, i want to give a B I G shout out to my queen @lee-laurent for the inspiration!!! i loved this SOOOOO much. i love writing luke, as a little softie and i've never wrote a pregnant reader story before, and i kinda love it!!! I hope you guys enjoy, like and reblog if you do!!! as always much love <3

happy reading <3

“Luke i look so fat in this” yn sighs out, as she dramatically flops her arms down against her body. 

Luke trails his eyes down his very pregnant girlfriend's bikini-covered body in awe, his eyes taking in every stretch mark, every small detail about her as she stands in front of him, with a pouting look on her face. 

“Baby you look beautiful, what are you talking about?” he asks looking at her

“Luke, just look at me” she cries out

“I am looking at you baby, and you look beautiful” he says, now holding his hands out in front of him for her to grab. 

Quickly grabbing his hands, yn pulls herself to now stand in between his legs, Luke's arms now wrapping around her middle as she stands silently in front of him. Just as Luke is about to speak, he hears a sniffle come from yn as she's looking at her feet.

“Baby, why are you crying?” he asks quickly, his hands meeting her face, taking her face in between his hands, bringing it up so he can get a better look at her.

“I feel so ugly luke” she sniffles, “i feel so fat and ugly in this swimsuit, i love my bump. I love our baby but I feel so ugly.” she finishes 

“Baby” Luke sighs, his rubbing under her eyes whipping away the tears that have fallen. 

“I promise you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Your body is amazing.” he says to her, looking in her eyes. Rubbing his hands down her sides, tracing over her bum. Bringing his hands over her growing breasts, over her thighs and back up to her waist. 

“You're so stunning, I wish you could see what I see” he says, looking up at her. “I love the changes in your body, you’re growing our baby, and I couldn't be more proud of you.” he finishes with a smile on his face. 

“I love you” she whispers out 

“I love you more, my beautiful girl” he says, bringing his hands back to her face, pulling her down slightly, connecting their lips together in a sweet kiss. 

“Thank you” she says, as she pulls away from the kiss.

“You're welcome, pretty girl,” Luke says, his hands rubbing the soft skin of her thigh.

“Now” he says, bringing his hand up to look at her, “we can either go on the boat like we’d planned or we can stay in here, and cuddle for the rest of the day” 

“Can we stay in here” yn asks timidly 

“Of course, baby” 

“One condition though” she says 

“And what is that baby” he asks looking at her

Yn licks her lips before speaking “maybe you could show me how beautiful i am, without any clothes on?” 

A wide smirk spreads across lukes face, as he slips his hands under her thighs, pulling yn into his lap. 

“Luke!” she laughs 

“What baby, i'm just getting a head start” he says before connecting their lips together. Spreading the rest of the afternoon showing his girl how beautiful she is. 

[imnotjaesblog]

Espresso

"Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so,"

Starring: Starring Jaehyun

GUYS I have been obsessed with this song. Sabrina got me obsessed just like the rest of the world. So of course I wrote a short fic loosely inspired by the song and music video.

Warnings: Smut. Jaehyun is an ass guy. Cursing. Y/n bites Jaehyun's lip and neck. Jaehyun is down bad for Y/n. Y/n is more of a dom but Jaehyun isn't shy.

Words: 5k

MINORS DO NOT READ!!!!!!

Enjoy;)

Breaks up were hard. But not when you’re on a beach in Italy with your friends. The fresh ocean breeze hit your cheeks as you walked along the beach searching for a spot to relax. The waves crashed in the distance. You could see from where you were standing the clear waters. Wrapped in a bathing suit cover-up and towel in hand you had found the perfect place to sit. You dug a small hole for your butt to fit comfortably for when you laid down.

You through the blanket laying it flat on the hot sand. Your friend came to your side. Eyes shielded with sunglasses, the same as yours. She placed the smaller cooler at the end of the blanket holding it down. Another one of your girlfriends appeared placing down two chairs and setting them up. Once she got comfortable beside you that’s when the rest of your friends showed up.

The remaining three guy friends walk towards you guys holding onto more chairs, an even bigger cooler, a speaker, and an umbrella. Doyoung, Jaehyun, and Jungwoo all come to where you lay.

You picked up your sunglasses a bit to get a better look at the boys. Especially the one in the middle. Jung Jaehyun dressed in black swimming trunks and a white tank top. Hair pushed back and eyes framed with black sunglasses. The girls knew you were interested in him. The way you always perked up when he was around. Listening to his stories and laughing at his terrible jokes. You wanted him. But not in a romantic way. If it came to that, that was fine. But you craved him in such a bad way that felt so good.

And you were going to get him.

Jaehyun walked over to where you sat in the beach chair. He smiled at you just after letting Doyoung struggle to set up the beach umbrella. It shadowed over you. You took off your black shades placing them in your beach bag that Jaehyun so kindly carried for you.

“Jae,” you called. He turned to you. “Yea?” He asked. You were about to speak but the other boys started to shout.

“Let’s go!!!!” Jungwoo shouted as he ran to the water. Seulgi placed the speaker at the end of the blanket to keep it from flying. She watched Jungwoo run off. She smiled laughing as he flopped into the water. She briefly turned back to her phone pressing play on a playlist. Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter. She looked over at you and Jaehyun.

"You guys coming?" she asked. You nodded, "In a minute," she nodded Wendy ran up to her side. Linking their arms together and turning away. The two girls that lay on the blanket stood up. They laughed following behind Jungwoo. Doyoung who was just finishing up putting sunscreen over every inch of his body placed the sunscreen down. He ran behind Jungwoo a huge excited smile on his lips.

The two of you watched them run off. You weren’t ready just yet to head to the water. Still taking in the sun and the beautiful man who sat beside you. You leaned back. Jaehyun followed after watching his friends jump into the cool water.

“Y/n,” he called. “Yea?” You asked eyes still focused on the water. He leaned up a bit. “Can I get something to drink?” He asked. You nodded touching his hand a bit. “A Coke for now is fine,” you said. He nodded leaning over to the cooler. He opened it taking out the can. He opened the can for you placing it in your cup holder.

“Jaehyun do you mind doing me a favor?” You asked. He nodded brows raised a bit in interest. You smiled pulling out the sunscreen from your bag. “Can you put this on me? I can’t reach my back,” you said slightly pouting your lips. He nodded taking the cream from your hands. He popped open the cap.

You sat forward standing up to remove the cover-up. You smirked as you undid the tie. Letting it drop and exposing your glowy body to Jaehyun. Body hugged in a brown two-piece bathing suit. Small ruffles at the end create a mini skirt. Your ass still popped out from the bottom but in such a cute way. Your top matches the skirt but could be removed to show more skin.

Jaehyun licked his lips. Eyeing your skin and all he could see was your back. You turned to him waving for him to follow. Moving to the spot you made on the blanket. Laying down arching your back a bit so your butt would perk out as you laid your stomach down. Jaehyun squirted some sunscreen on his palm. Rubbing the white cream together he brought his hands to your soft skin.

He started with your back. Following the curve of your spine. Rubbing into your skin. You closed your eyes a bit. Soft sounds leave your lips. Some were on accident because Jaehyun was doing so well and some were on purpose just to see his reactions. He cleared his throat a bit but continued. Bringing his hands down to your waist. Holding onto your skin. Hesitantly hovering over your plush skin. He looked over at you. You looked so relaxed. He smirked bringing his hands down to your thighs.

Jaehyun wasn’t stupid. He knew what you were doing. For the last week, you have throwing hints at him. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested. Every small touch and hug. Even the small pecks you placed on his cheek when you wanted to say thank you or goodbye. Jaehyun had taken each detail piecing them together. He liked the effort you were putting in, in your way. He tried to keep his cool around you but it was getting harder. Every peck he wanted to turn his cheek and kiss you.

When you stayed at his apartment and put on one of his shirts because “yours was dirty” and walked into the kitchen. Lifting yourself to reach something you didn’t even need. A glass cup when he had some placed on the table. No, you wanted the one high up. The one that caused you to stretch and have his shirt lifted. Watching as your black panties exposed themselves to him. It took everything in his power to hold back. He wanted nothing more than to lift you down. Push you up against the counter and take you from behind. Feeling the plush curve of your ass in his palm.

But instead, he grabbed the cup for you. Leaning his front against your back and handed it to you. He could see the slight defeat on your face. He chuckled a bit. He’d eventually have his way with you once you were ready and he was sure you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

So he rubbed the sunscreen into your thighs. Hands roaming a bit inching closer between the skin. You could feel the shadow of his hand inch closer to the heat between your legs. Jaehyun flicked between watching you and his hand. He wondered what would happen if let his intrusive thoughts win. Spread you apart, yank your bottoms off, and devour you on the beach. He had to hold back. His friends weren’t too far off. He looked up seeing them all still in the water. Both girls are on top of the boy's backs.

You looked back down at you. “Jaehyun,” you said softly. He hummed in response. He found himself relaxing while touching you. “You can touch me if you want,” you said back. He opened his eyes stopping his moments for a second. He continued quickly not wanting to worry you. “Touch you?” He asked. You nodded turning your head a bit. You held back your smirk.

“You seem hesitant,” you spoke words laced with lust. “Don’t be,” you said back. You turned back letting your chin fall in your hands. “I don’t mind if you touch me,” you said. Jaehyun couldn’t help the groan that left his lips. You finally let your smirk show. Biting back a few giggles. Jaehyun glided his hands up from your thighs and to your ass. He let out a low groan unable to rid of his lustful thoughts. His hands mold your skin and take in every detail. The curve of your ass. The soft plush skin molded so well in his hands. How the sweat formed from the sun. If he smacked your face the droplets would probably hit his skin.

He had to stop. He could feel his dick harden in his trunks. He quickly let go of you. He says back in his heels.

“All done?” You asked tone changing. Sounding very much like he wasn’t feeling you up. That’s the one thing he could never understand about this interaction. How every time you managed to act as if everything was normal. Like his hands on you was nothing out of the ordinary.

He nodded in response gulping. He leaned over picking up your coke can. He brought it to his lips. Drinking most of it. The coke slipped down the corner of his lips. Jaehyun stood up walking away from you but you called him back.

“Jaehyun,” you called teasing tone returning. He sighed wanting to leave before someone called him a pervert. He kept his back to you. Only turning slightly. You picked up the bottle. “You didn’t put any on,” you said back dangling the bottle in your hands. Jaehyun gritted his teeth. His feet dug into the hot sand. He wanted nothing more than to let your hands roam free on his body. But he couldn’t. Not with his friends right there who will probably question the tent in his pants.

He shook his head. He waved it off. “I’m okay. I’ll use the spray Jungwoo has,” he responded. You went to say something but he walked off. He went to Jungwoo’s bag quickly removing his tank and spraying himself. Rubbing the sunscreen into his skin he ran off to the water. He had to clear his mind.

You sat there watching as he ran off. You didn’t care that you couldn’t touch him. You had just enough of what you needed with him touching you. And with the small sounds and curses he was making the entire time you knew you had him. You smiled to yourself as you popped open the bottle to finish yourself off.

———

You had eventually made your way to the water. You removed your slippers leaving them by the blanket. You walked quickly over to the water. The hot sand burning your feet. You sighed in relief when your feet met the wet sand and soon the small waves came in. You could see your friends slashing water at each other. It made you smile as he walked further into the water.

Jaehyun noticed you come in closer. His smile fell a bit as he watched you. Hands floating on the surface of the water. The air in his lungs was trapped. You made eye contact with him. Small smile on your lips. He sent you a half smile before he turned back to splashing Wendy. You scoffed turning to attack Jungwoo.

Jungwoo innocently lifted you. You screamed as he lifted you in the air. Your laughter is caught by Jaehyun. You held onto your nose as Jungwoo through you into the water. You quickly came back up for air. Pushing the front of your soaked hair back and rubbing your eyes. You pushed Jungwoo causing him to fall over. Seulgi laughed at Jungwoo holding onto her stomach. Doyoung chuckled as well before he came back to shore.

You all followed feeling a bit hungry.

You all sat around eating the well-made sandwiches. Wrapped in warm towels and taking in the sun. The sun was just on the horizon when Jaehyun sat beside you. He smiled at you. Small drops of water fell from his hair.

“Towel?” You asked him. Trying to hand him yours. He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll dry off,” he said leaning back a bit. He squinted his eyes from the sun that appeared closer. Everyone watched as the sun began to set. You hummed feeling calm as the sky shifted from orange. When the sky was golden Jaehyun looked over at you.

Your skin glowing in the sunlight. The golden hour did you no justice. You looked so beautiful. No amount of light from the sun or moon could capture your beauty. When the sky shifted pink you turned to Jaehyun. Catching him staring at you. You smiled, “You're staring,” you comment. He didn’t even bother to pretend like he wasn’t.

“I couldn’t help it. You’re beautiful,” he said feeling a bit corny. But he couldn’t bite his tongue. He needed you to know how breathtaking you were to him. Your cheeks became a bit warm. You could feel the heart spread throughout your whole body. The towel becoming useless. You slid it off your shoulders. Jaehyun watched as you did.

When the sky shifted to light blue Doyoung stood up to take photos. He walked over to you and Jaehyun asking you to pose. The two of you did and the flash of the Polaroid camera caught you both by surprise.

“Can I take another?” He asked. The two of you nodded. Jaehyun coming even closer to you. Shifting his weight to sit right beside you. Thighs pressing against yours and strong arm wrapping around your shoulder. He pulled you in causing your head to lean a bit to him. You both smiled as the camera flashed. Doyoung handed the two of you the photos.

When the sky became dark blue Jungwoo laid back. Wendy followed and you laid your head on Jaehyun’a shoulder. An innocent act in a search for comfort and warmth. Jaehyun could feel the slight chills on both his skin and yours from the night breeze. He pulled you close as the two of you watched the waves crash.

When the sky turned completely dark you all decided to go back to the hotel. It had been a fun and exhausting day.

You walked into your room closing the door behind you. You made your way to the bathroom quickly undressing and getting into the shower. Once you had freshly showered you stepped out applying the creams and lotions you had left in the bathroom earlier in the day. Once you finished applying every cream to your face and body you stepped out the bathroom towel wrapped around your frame.

You walked over to your dresser pulling out your pajamas. A slip dress that fell just about your thighs. If you stretched upwards almost all your ass would be exposed. You made your way back to the front shutting off the light. Walking back to your bed you pulled back the covers. The sheets feel smooth against your shaved legs. You hummed relaxing a bit before you grabbed your phone. Opening it you noticed a notification from Jaehyun.

Jaehyun- What are you doing?

You- Just got into bed. Why?

Jaehyun- Just wanted to text you.

You smiled biting into your lip. You switched legs underneath the blanket. You let your mind wander. Feeling the ghost of his hands moving around your skin. Mixing with that feeling of waves throughout your body just after leaving the beach. The same waves flow down between your legs. The warmth of his hands so close to where you craved him.

Jaehyun- Are you asleep?

Y/n- No. I was just distracted

Jaehyun- With?

You decided this was another opportunity for you to play.

Y/n- You

…

Jaehyun- Oh really?

Y/n- Yes

Jaehyun- What are you thinking about?

Jaehyun knew what he was thinking about. All the times this whole week you’ve rubbed your ass against him when you passed him by. The blood rushed from his brain to his cock when he palmed your ass on the beach. The image of you lifting yourself on the counter to reach the stupid mug. He could feel himself start to sweat. The same returned and rose throughout his body.

Y/n- What it would have felt like if you touched me as I asked you to?

Now he felt the entire air in the room rise. His breath caught in his lungs. Eyes glued to your texts. Lips parted only licking them to try and regain focus. Failing to do so he couldn’t help but think how you would have felt. Would you have felt soft? Warm? Would you be wet? Would you let him taste you?

Jaehyun- Would you let me touch you if I asked?

Y/n- Would you hesitate?

Jaehyun- Never again.

His change in boldness had gone straight to your heat. Jaehyun had always rejected your touches in the kindest ways. Like he didn’t want to. You assumed that was the case because of the look on his face. His lip caught between his teeth and his eyes shut. Was that how he looked when he fucked? The heat went straight to your legs. You couldn’t wait any longer. You had to go see him.

You stood up walking over to your door. Slipping down in your slippers and robe. You closed your door and let it shut behind you. You walked down the hallway to the door diagonal from yours. You knocked on his door. You could hear some rustling from inside. The door opened exposing you to a desperate Jaehyun. He pulled you inside shutting the door behind you.

Pulling you close to his body and inches his lips to yours. Towering over your frame. You could feel his faint breaths on your lips. You held onto his biceps looking up into his eyes. His hands molding onto your waist. “No worries about our friendship?” You teased feeling him get closer to you. He shook his head.

“I’m not gonna hesitate,” he said lowly placing his lips on yours. Lips connecting and moving together. Soft and passionate his tongue slipped between your lips. Wandering hands moving from your waist to the curve of your ass. Molding the plush skin in his palms. He groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your front pressed against him. He pulled away turning you around. Bringing his veiny hands to your shoulders. Slipping the silly robe off your shoulders. Letting it pool at your feet.

“I can touch you right?” He asked lowly. Whispering in your ear. You nodded just wanting him to continue.

He leaned his lips to your exposed neck. Placing small pecks on your skin. The back of his hand grazed your shoulder. Nails dragging down your skin. Goosebumps rise with the hairs on the back of your neck. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this,” he confessed growl leaving his lips. You smirked hand reaching up to play with the back of his dark hair. “Then why now?” You asked teasingly. “Because I can’t control myself anymore,” he kissed your jaw bringing his lips to your neck.

Bringing his hand further down lifting your dress up and over your head. He removed his shirt letting it fall to the ground. His hands quickly move back to your hot skin. Passing over your breast and to your heat. His tongue sucking on the skin of your neck just below your ear.

He could feel your exposed ass press against his cock. The feeling of your bottom half pantie-less and free. Spreading your legs with his hand. Hands moving to spread your folds. Taking your wetness coating his fingers. Unable to help himself from bringing his fingers to his lips. He sucked onto his digits humming at the sweet taste. How could you taste so good? You moaned at the feeling of his hardness against you. Wanting nothing more than to pull his cock out and have him fuck you in every inch of this hotel room.

He turned your back around. Feeling tortured enough without having you. He wouldn’t make it worse without being able to see you. He took in the sight of you. Pulling you close and lifting you. Wrapping your legs around his waist he walked the two of you to his bed. Laying you flat he kissed his way down. From your lips to your neck. Past the valley of your breast and the skin of your stomach. Sitting on his heels and dipping his head further down. Letting his legs fall straight. Using his hand to hold you down and the other to spread you apart. Spitting on your clit before diving in.

You moaned loudly hands reaching down to grab onto his hair. Gripped his locks and watched as he fucked himself into the mattress. His tongue moved fast against your clit. Moving his head back and forth underneath you. His nose rubbed against your clit when his tongue moved closer to your tight hole.

“Fuck,” you moaned bringing your other hand up to your breast. Toying with your breast. Jaehyun looked up mouth still sucking you dry. Reaching his free hand up to flick your nipple. Squeezing onto the skin. Your hips rutted against his face. He shut his eyes for a bit just taking in your taste and scent. Listening to the soft sounds that escaped your lips. Your back arched once he quickened his pace.

“That’s right baby. You’re doing so well for me,” he praised continuing his assaults on your pussy. Your head fell back. Thighs shaking between his face. You tasted too good for him to stop. Looking up at you and watching you fall apart. You looked too good to stop. He didn’t even notice his hips fucking the mattress underneath him. So lost in the feeling of bringing you to your high he lazily chased his own.

“Jaehyun I’m gonna cum,” you groaned feeling him slip his finger inside you. You could feel the knot in your stomach form. Back arching off the bed. Your hands tugged into Jaehyun’s locks screaming praises and curses.

“Jaehyun,” you moaned again. Your sound’s going straight to his head causing him to speed up. He continued to suck and lick quick circles on your clit. Eyes looking up seeing your entire body squirm under his touch. He smirked against you. “That’s right take it, baby,” he hushed a growl leaving his lips, returning to your pussy.

“Jaehyun I’m coming,” you screamed. Jaehyun picked up his pace bringing you closer to your high. Your entire body shuddered. Your stomach deflating as you released into his mouth. Jaehyun sucked up all of your juice even making sure to lick his fingers once he pulled them out.

Your body laid flat on his bed. Chest rising and falling. He chuckled taking in your sight again. “I’m doing that again,” he said happy smirk on his lips. You sat up pulling him into a soft kiss. You shook your head.

“Not after you fuck me first,” you said placing a hand on his chest from going any further. You pushed him back causing his back to hit the mattress. Grabbing onto the waist of his shorts. He lifted his ass making it easier for you to slide them down. Pealing his boxers back exposing his hard dick. The tip is red from rubbing it against the fabric. Peak cum leaking from the top falling on the trail of his stomach. You licked your lips zoning in on his cock.

Jaehyun watched your chest quickly rise up and down. Waiting for you to do something, anything. You bent down crawling forward and onto his lap. Throwing your leg over and straddling his waist. Since you got rid of that useless boyfriend you had all you could think about was riding Jaehyun’s cock. Even before you wasted your time on that boy you thought about. But something about Jaehyun being there for you was just so hot.

You grabbed onto his jaw having him face you as you aligned his dick at your entrance. His mouth fell open at just the feeling of hai tip ghost under your folds. You leaned down placing a passionate kiss on his pink lips. He kissed you back deepening the kiss. Placing a hand on your waist and pulling you close. You pulled back his bottom lip caught between your teeth. You let his plumped lip fall back into place. He groaned already feeling himself give more and more of himself to you.

Then you pushed his cock into you. The tip passes through your tight hole. His shaft slipped further and further inside you. You were so wet it drizzled down your leg. He could feel some of it getting onto his dick and it drove him crazy. He was tempted to reach down. Pick up the juice and lick it but instead groaned even louder when you bottomed out. You both let out sighs of relief. Jaehyun felt so right inside of you. Your bodies molded together as you tried to find a rhythm that worked for both of you.

Once you did you slowly moved your hips forward. Bouncing on his angry cock. Feeling so full with him underneath you. Getting lost in your own Euphoria Jaehyun reached up pulling you down. Causing you to open your eyes. “Focus here baby,” he said placing a kiss on your lips. You kissed him back until he pulled away. Teasing smirk and a dark look in his eyes.

“Fuck baby you're doing so well,” you praised. His brows furrowed and teeth sunk into his bottom lip. You moaned out loud head falling back. If you knew he would have felt this could you would have fucked him sooner. “Feel so full,” you moaned mouth falling open. Jaehyun groaned even more hearing you moan so loud for him. You smirked reaching down to run your fingers against his chest. Soon finding his neck. Jaehyun wasn’t going to let you choke him. So he grabbed onto you flipping you around.

He needed to be deeper inside you. Spreading your legs further apart. Aligning his wet cock at your entrance and ramming inside you hard. You moaned loudly head falling back onto the pillow. Gripping into the sheets. Mouth falling open unable to speak. Jaehyun’s head fell back. You were squeezing so good around him. Losing his mind inside your tight hole. This would not be the end for him.

You felt just as cold as he imagined. So wet and tight. His dick is warm inside your velvet walls. You continued to squeeze around his cock. He was big and long. Curving inside you and brushing past your sweet spot. You moaned loud eyes widened open and lips formed an o. He smirked enjoying making you fall apart underneath him. All the teasing and longing touches reaching up to now. Now he could finally have his way with you.

But you were in charge. You picked yourself up wrapping your hand around his neck. Fingings lacking with his dark black hair. Pulling onto his hair craning his neck back. He kept his hands on your waist. Fucking deep into your pussy. Leaning down and sucking on his neck. Jaehyun let out a moan. A moan he had been trying to hide.

Sweating pouring down your bodies. The heat picking up between the two of you. Both your shared moans echo inside the room. The bed shaking against the headboard. Both of you are lost in the euphoric feeling.

“You do so good baby,” Jaehyun praised through pants. He couldn’t hold on much longer. He felt himself coming closer and closer to his high. You moaned teeth sinking into his neck. He growled at the feeling of laying you back down. This time not wasting a second. Slamming his dick into hot and heavy. Bringing his finger to his mouth sucking on his digits before he brought them to your clit.

He could feel your juice soaking his dick as you came around him. Squeezing onto him tightly he bit onto his lip. His neck and ears turning bright red as he chased his high.

“Where can I ?” He asked groaning as you squeezed him again unable to control it. You looked up into his eyes. Your eyes glowing with mischief and love. You smirked, “Inside,” you said. Jaehyun could explode. You were so hot. He fucked into you harder. He let out an earthy groan as he spilled himself inside you. His thrust turned slow before he pulled out. Watching as your pussy oozed mixing your come with his.

He licked his lips as he pulled out. Watching your pussy glistening in his dim room. He wanted to ask to take a picture but decided not to. Keeping the memory in his mind.

You laid their fingers grazing over your sensitive skin. Jaehyun stood up walking off into the bathroom. Laying there looking at the ceiling you wore a dazed smile on your eyes with heavy eyes to match. When he returned he held a small towel in his hand. He came to your side unable to hide his smile. His cute dimples are on display. You chuckled a bit as he brought the towel closer cleaning you up.

Once he finished he threw the small towel in the trash. He came to your side pulling you close to him. He nuzzled his face in your neck. After sex, Jaehyun was so clingy you noted.

“It’s shocking to see you this way,” you commented looking a bit down at him. He looked up hand sliding across your exposed waist. He raised a brow cheek mushed against your stomach now. “What is?” He asked small pout. Your hand reached down to go through his hair. He hummed closing his eyes a bit.

“You’re usually glued to your phone. Antisocial,” you joked. He chuckled along with you. He shrugged, “I can’t do that around you. Especially now, I feel like I need to hold onto you so you don’t go,” he teased. You shook your head. Smile on your glossy lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said back more as a promise. You leaned up causing him to sit up. You touched his biceps. Eyeing him up and down before you looked back into his eyes.

He groaned, “You're gonna be the death of me,” he said. Causing a dark giggle to leave your chest before he made his way to you.

And like always. You kept him up all night.

End ;)

Thank you for reading this. I wrote this because of the Prada Show where Jaehyun looks absolutely delicious lol.

Thank you for reading!

[fraugwinska]

DoubleTrouble No. 2 - Missionary Impossible

Yes, we did Team up again - the wonderful @macabr3-barbi3 and my humble self wrote another DoubleTrouble fic, based of a hilarious FranticFanfic game result (If you are a writer and have some friends who also indulge in fanfiction, check the game out: www.franaticfanfic.com - Your throat will hate you but the laughter makes it worth it!)

This time we give all of you Vox Lovers a real Treat! Mine is the Readers POV, while Barbie provided Vox's POV - get the TV's dirty version right here.

And now, without further ado:

Explicit Sexual content - Minors DNI - 18+ - 6.5k words

You had to admit: Breaking into Lucifer’s personal vault was your boldest and most impressive job yet. You had your concerns - normally you didn’t take jobs that seemed too shady or downright wrong to you - but you didn’t steal anything powerful, just a bottle of his vanished wife’s perfume. You shake your head at the memory. Most certainly one of her many, still very active superfans, kind of icky to be honest. But money talks, and boy did that client talk.

The only downside had been that for the first time, the 666 Evening News had a picture of you.

Granted, blurry, obstructed and absolutely not usable at all - but it still irked you to no end. They didn’t call you the ‘Traceless Thief’ for nothing.

But even though no one was more the wiser about your identity, even though Lucifer begrudgingly stopped looking for witnesses, even though the gossip on the streets about speculations who the Traceless Thief could’ve been died down - ever since that night, you felt like you were being watched.

The next jobs you take go without news coverage and media attention, and yet, you grow more and more paranoid. Hell has many eyes - figuratively and literally - and you feel them all on you. But there is work to be done and a living to be earned - and the tiny alibi antique bookshop you keep definitely doesn’t provide. No one sane wants old shit in hell - and the rare specimens that do and visit the dingy little space under your apartment come and go, disappointed in the stock you barely keep.

Which is fine by you - you only really need it for one thing. The PO Box.

The wonderfully boring, uninteresting PO Box of the ‘Dusty Pages’ bookshop was your portal to the real money. Hell had become a lot better the day you mastered the powers the underworld granted you: No physical barrier could contain you. Being intangible granted you freedom, and to return to the profession you were best in: Stealing Shit.

Of course, noble causes like overturning corrupt governments by breaking into officials homes and publishing their many crimes was still stealing, if you ask heaven that is, and it landed you in hell. You gave up being salty about it, and made the best out of the situation.

“Hey Frankie. How’s the wife?” The post office clerk, a grumpy looking crocodile in an ill-fitting checkered suit huffs.

“Still fucking annoying, as always. Each day I’m getting closer to bribing an exterminator to kill the bitch just to shut her up for good.”

You chuckled, leaning on the counter and tapping your fingers on the scratched wood.

“Aw, did you burn the meatloaf again? You know Alice hates that.” Frankie gives you an exasperated look, which you meet with a mocking grin.

“You want something? Except for getting on my nerves?”

You shrug, twirling a tiny key on a string around your finger. Frankie, and by proxy Alice too, were parts of your harmless, boring, inconspicuous appearance. Just a normal young sinner, just a normal errand to run, keeping normal small talk with the clerks.

“Just checking my PO Box. I’m waiting on a few rare books I ordered to restock.”

“Uh-huh. Tell someone who gives a shit.”

The crocodile turns away, adjusting his small, round reading glasses and eager to ignore you. Perfect.

“Always nice to chat with you, Frankie.” you say and saunter over to the little door with the number 13. The quiet click always sounds satisfyingly like a little exclamation of joy and like cashflow, and under the ‘Old Crap & Thingamajigs’ catalog you found what you were hoping for. A thick envelope and a letter - new jetstream-bathtub, here you come.

God, why were the VoxTech maintenance uniforms so fucking skimpy?

You grumble silently, cursing yourself that you haven’t grabbed the male one. But that would’ve been suspicious, and you couldn’t afford to be suspicious today. Not if you want to get the job done and live to tell the tale. 

The Vee Tower is full of cameras, hundreds of tiny, red blinking lights next to crystal clear lenses, and dead spots were hard to find and a rare occasion. So, when you couldn’t shift through the walls, you had to look like you belonged. And apparently, a fucking laced, black mini-skirt and a top with puffy sleeves that looked more like a fetish bralette was what it took to ‘belong’. The whole point was blending in, not being remembered - and all the female employees from cleanup and maintenance looked the exact same as you. So, unless one was walking around with a bag full of personnel files on hand, you looked like anyone else on this floor.

You stepped into the elevator, the keycard your client had sent you along with the money and initial job offer in hand. Wherever that person got those precious credentials, you were grateful for them because it gave you an easy way to bypass all the layers of security that VoxTech imposed. All that hassle for an incriminating photo.

You sighed when you pressed the button to floor 66, where the CEO of VoxTech enterprises had his private apartment. Vox.

The name was even more intimidating than Lucifer's to you. While the king of hell was aloof, inactive, disinterested in the ongoings of hell, Vox was the absolute opposite. He knew every little secret. VoxTech had millions of eyes and ears. It was a well known fact that he kept his all-seeing spycams on the whole pentagram and his pliant audience in his steely grasp. Always on top of the times, on top of the news, on top of the sales and on top of any business, shady or not, in hell. In the eyes of the citizens of the Pride Ring, Vox and his partners Valentino and Vevette owned practically everything. He had the largest audience in the history of hell, the sharpest wit and the keenest, calculating eye on the prize - a charming manipulator that was considered very much dangerous and not to be underestimated. Which is why you had to plan your gig for a time you were certain he wasn't around.

A shame really - you couldn’t deny, despite his ruthlessness and questionable business practices with which he had built his empire, you kind of admired the self-made TV-demon that rose to overlord status and made quite a big name for himself in stellar time. That, and he was nice to look at too, even with a flatscreen for a head. Oh well.

The ding of the elevator brought you back to the job at hand, and with confident steps, you glanced up and down the corridor. There were a few cameras pointed to the apartment door, but you found a dead spot not far off, and with a content smile, you walked over as if to inspect the carpet, just to shift as you were out of the camera's angle, your body transpiring through the wall, and with a quiet thud, you were inside.

That was the moment the lights went out.

A power outage was the last thing you had expected - in the Vee Tower of all places. The one place in hell that burst with electricity, and you would laugh at the irony if you weren't so tense. The timing is suspicious,and with a beating heart you shuffle forward, trying to phase through the nearest wall.

What the fuck?

You furrow your brows and huff, irritated. The wall is - well, a wall, and while that was a normal state for others, for you? Unimaginable. Your hands are resting against the concrete and steel, normally easy peasy to walk through. But you feel the hardness under your fingertips, much more intense than it should and almost stinging.

Conventional route it is, then, you think begrudgingly and slowly make your way through the corridor, listening into the stillness of the apartment. The corridor led into a spacious living room - flat, modern couches that screamed money and luxury arranged in a half circle, surrounded by various screens, all turned off. In the middle you see the outlines of a metallic, lavish coffee table, empty and clean like in a catalog. It was the kind of space that wasn’t really meant to be lived in, but to show just how much you had that you didn’t really need. A show.

You scanned the room. There was an open arch leading into a kitchen - also polished and top notch empty, not the cluttered mess you had in your apartment - and a closed, narrow door, likely a storage room. But at the opposite end of it, you see a faint, blue stripe of light, teal blue, luring you towards it. A night light maybe, or some indirect mood lighting shit that was all the rage since LED’s hit the Pentagram a few years ago, shining through a cracked door. Intentionally inconspicuous, your brain whispers, but anything was better than the dim darkness you were stumbling in now. 

When you reach the glowing gap and peek cautiously into the adjacent room, one hand almost on the handle, a groan makes you freeze before you could register what you are looking at.

Oh satan.

Vox.

A LOT of Vox.

The overlord was fucking home, and not just that. In his bedroom - your target location - naked, an impressive and glowing cock in hand, working himself in a way he would definitely not appreciate anyone seeing him in. You felt your neck and cheeks flush with heat - another thing you did not expect nor calculate for. But you can’t look away - as surreal and absolutely dangerous this situation is - his deliciously large hands and the sheer sight of his luminous length glistening with precum as he strokes himself cuts your breath short with highly inappropriate lust. The screen in front of him was bright, and for a moment, you were so enraptured with him that you didn’t recognize the silhouette he was pumping himself to.

You.

It’s you.

In this ridiculous maid costume that was unconsciously riding up your ass, sneaking through the corridor, not even half a minute ago. With growing horror you watch yourself taking tentative steps through the living room, the you on the screen hesitating before deciding to move to the left, one arm reaching out to a cracked open door.

“Fuck, yes.”

The words were barely said when your brain kickstarts.

Fuck, no.

He knew. He knew you were here.

In a flight of panic, you bolted for the corridor, back to the door, back to the safety of not-fucking-here, but you couldn’t even make four steps before your wrists were bound by cables shooting out of the walls surrounding you. You ready yourself to slip through them, but again, your powers leave you high and dry again. Helpless, you back away into the nearest wall, and the door opens fully, with the TV demon standing in the frame. Tall, intimidating even butt-fucking-naked, and a cocky smile on his HD face.

“Hello, my dear,” he almost coos and takes a few steps towards you as you writhe in the restrictions, desperately trying to slip out and get the fuck away. “I’m so glad you got my invitation!”

“Invitation?” That makes you still against the cables, your eyes darting over his face, confused. What the hell does that mean? You weren’t invited, you had a job to... Oh. Oh shit.

“You’re the client?”

His face was answer enough, and you would have slapped yourself for your stupidity if he hadn't had you in an iron grip. A loud game-show ding startles you back into the here and now, he was so much closer than before…

“Sure thing, doll! How else was I supposed to catch a slippery little thing like you without scaring you off?”

He traces his fingers down your cheek, his tips sparking with static electricity. How fucked up are you that this turns you on? Not being able to suppress the need to glance at his still shining and ripped cock again, you swallow hard. Where is your sense of self-preservation? Apparently left outside of this apartment, along with your usual foresight and dignity.

Cables wrap around your thighs and with a yelp you feel yourself getting lifted, legs parted by the wires. You almost topple over but are caught by his hands on your arms and faced with a smirk when you press your back into the wall, stabilizing yourself with a reddened face.

“Those didn’t come with the uniform,” He has the audacity to wink at you, nudging to the black lace panties you wear - excuse a girl for not wearing granny panties in the workplace - and you want to retort something snarky to him, when he looks at you that way. 

Within a moment, you realize two things.

Firstly, with the way he was roaming your body, his eyes lingering not only on your face, but your tits and the flimsy underwear concealing your very obvious wet arousal - you were fucked one way or the other. Which should’ve terrified you. Emphasis on ‘should’.

Because the other thing was, that even though he had bound you, even though you were at the mercy of this powerful sinner who tricked and trapped you here, rendering your power useless with whatever-the-fuck… he didn’t seem malicious, but rather… curious? Fascinated? Playful? You can’t really pinpoint it, but something tells you that - if you play your cards right - you might get more out of this make-pretend job than a jetstream-bathtub and hopefully all your limbs intact. And most importantly - you have nothing to lose.

“They're from my personal collection - lucky coincidence that they match the overall vibe of your staff's... uniform." It takes a lot to steady your voice as you talk, with the way his clawed hands run along the insides of your legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He cocks his brow, as if he's pleasantly surprised, and licks his lips before he answers, his voice sultry and dripping of sexual tension.

"Mh... Luck favors the prepared, I always say. Oh, and speaking of slippery and prepared, sweetheart..."

You gasp as you feel the soft fabric being pushed aside and long fingers running lightly through your drenched folds. Fuck, you can already tell just how skilled those fingers must be. How great they'd feel deep inside you. Involuntarily, you buck your hips to guide them to where you wanted them most - onto your clit and burrowed to his knuckles - the desperation just dripping from you as he chuckles and lets his thumb glide over the throbbing pearl teasingly teasingly as he pushes one of his digits in. Your head rolls against the wall behind you with a needy moan escaping your lips and you have to bite them to stay focussed for what you were about to do.

"What a sight. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, doll, seeing you all desperate and fucking..."

The rest of his sentence died in his throat, replaced by a low, long and stuttering moan. Half shocked, half aroused, he looked down to his throbbing cock, then his head snapped up to you, grinning down on him. You moved your hips again, grinding down on his unmoving fingers, frozen in place at his confusion, confirming your suspicion that he didn't know about your other power. Not as strong as your intangibility, sure, but strong enough for him to feel - and see - the ghostly hand you envisioned around his dick, continuing what he started, pumping him in leisurely, slow strokes. 

"Didn't know about that move, doll." His hand comes alive again, and even though his voice glitches a bit he adds another one, much more tenderly and almost softly, properly prepping you. And judging by the circumference of the cock you feel through your spectral hand, it was more than precaution, but nothing less than a mercy. Mercy you were ready to beg for, given his thumb would continue the delicious circles it drew, just the right pressure, just the right pace to push you near the edge without tipping you over it.

"You're just a whole mystery, huh?"

Now fairly certain your head wouldn't roll at the end of this encounter, you let your last reservations slide. It has been too long since you were in the hands of a skilled lover, one that didn't disappoint, that didn't come too soon or drilled amateurishly into you in search for the g-spot they never found. This one knew what he was doing, finally, and by satan you wouldn't waste this opportunity. Make it a night to remember, and who knows? If you fuck his brains out, maybe he'd be knocked out long enough after for you to make a quick and easy exit. You imagined the spectre hand to twist, its thumb mapping the soft ridges around the crown. That seems to do the trick for Vox, and the look he shoots you deeply satisfies. "Fuck me, that's good."

Playing into this sentiment, you didn’t stifle the moans his damn fingers stroke out of you, the way they glide in and out, pressure on all the right marks without fail is too good to hold back. Your skin felt on fire, even without him touching anything but your pussy, and you felt no energy left to care that your clothes - if you would call them that - seemed to fall apart on your body, skirt pushed up to your waist, top loose around your shoulders and almost down enough to let your boobs fall out. You must look a mess, but then again the overlord didn’t seem to mind - quite the contrary. He looked outright hungry, eyes glitching occasionally with a particular squeeze of your hand or a poignant lustful moan from your lips.

“Do you have to concentrate to do that?”

“A little.”

His fingers hitting that one sweet spot inside you, cutting any other, more elaborate explanation short. Fucking hell, that you had to get tricked and trapped by an overlord to find a man that doesn’t think ‘foreplay’ is the interview before a soccer game was a fucking travesty. Grateful for that fact you withdraw from your own pleasure and decided to reward him, regaining your concentration enough to imagine a second hand to pay attention to the firm, very plump balls of his, rolling them in its palm and giving them a gentle, tentative squeeze.

“Cool party trick though, isn’t it?”

As if you challenged him, there’s a subtle change in his demeanor - his eyes more inquisitive, his fingers more eager and fervent, and a third one joined the others, stretching you oh-so-deliciously. For a moment you think you’d lose control, the ghost hands flickering before you got a grip on them again, determined to not tip the scales so soon. But you had to admit - it was tempting, to give into this implied command: Submit, let me take care of you, let me fuck you dumb.  

Little did he know, you were all about equality - or nothing at all. And if he was allowed to plow you with three fingers, surely he couldn’t protest against a third hand.

You weren’t sure how you’d manage it… the power was new, still waiting to be mastered, but you willed a third hand into reality, joining the one on his balls, softly working their way down and massaging his perineum. It strained you to no end, operating the conjured hands while Vox was adamant to make you cum on his fingers alone, but with how the cables shook and loosened around you, you were fairly certain it was enough to show him you meant business, your message clear: If anything, baby, we will fuck each other dumb. 

You watch with almost painful arousal how his screen flashes from the three-way-stimulation, his teeth slightly baring from the sensation but without losing his cocky smirk, as if to show his resilience.

"You'd be the life of any party I know, sugar, if you can pull shit like this out your sleeve."

With a wince from you, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you gaping, empty and fucking whining at the loss, eyes sharp and with a dangerous glint in them. "But you're not the only one with a few secret talents."

He kneels down then, opens his mouth, and you can't believe your eyes as a thick, long, very analog blue tongue unfolds and licks his lips hungrily and almost impatiently. A hand around each thigh spreading you almost impossibly wide, the hot breath feels chilling against your slick opening, and a brush of the tip of his tongue on your swollen clit makes your toes curl and your muscles tense with expectation. Your gaze, locked with his, breaks only when your head throws back and you moan out his name as he truly begins to eat you out. 

No teasing or games, no building up the tension - it's unmerciful, frenetic, his tongue alternately flickering on your clit with its pointed tip and pushing deep into your core with an almost unbearable thickness until there was no space left to be filled, tasting every little centimeter inside. Instinctively, your real hands twitch in their restraints, wanting to reach out, grab his head, the frame of his screen, fucking anything really just to have something of him to hold onto and push. Your hips can't hold still, but he made sure not to lose an inch as his hands gripped your ass down and into him as if he heard your thoughts, drawing you deeper into his maw as he devours you. Your spirit hands fade in and out, your mind unable to keep them steadily corporeal - he was too good, his tongue was too good, not once did his rhythm falter nor the damn thing slow down, giving you no chance to collect yourself.

Finally - oh god finally - his cables loosened enough for you to dart your hands towards him, finding a saving anchor on his arms. You literally felt like you were drowning - wet and out of breath, senses fogged by that wonderfully violent tongue swiping and licking and prodding and fucking pulsing. When he hummed into your cunt, all dams broke, and you could only stutter “fuck, cumming - oh my God-” before you snapped and you fell into the depths of your orgasm.

Whatever prick, mouth or fingers you had on and in you before - this erased them all. Never before felt your head so light, your cunt so heavy and hell so divine.

His relentless licks make you mewl with every stroke as he rides you through your high, but he just doesn’t stop. Greedy, rawing your abused cunt to a point where moans turn into almost pained whimpers and your body twitches and squirms, begging for him to relent.

Mercifully he understands, and when he stands up, you only passingly realize with a pang of bad conscience that your spectre limbs have dissipated somewhere along the line, leaving him high and dry - only metaphorically, because his cock was soaked in leaking cum.

He hooks your legs over his arm, his other snaking around your waist to lift you from the wall, and you made no motion to resist it, being that the prospect of his soft sheets on his bed were much more preferable than color-coated concrete on your back. The short walk over feels like the eye of the storm - a short illusion of a safe space, and you use it to assess the damage.

For one - the ‘clothes’ you wore were useless now, they did nothing clothes were supposed to do - The sleeves were half-ripped from the bralette, hanging by a thread, and the top itself so far down your tits were fully out, nipples dark and flushed, while the skirt was nothing more than a drape at this point, hiding the mess on your thighs and reddened, puffed lips.

Then you look up through your lashes, up to the best lay you ever had, down below as well as up above. You should plan your escape, should use the time you had now to calculate what to do to get the fuck out while you could - Instead your horny little fucked-up brain was busy imagining how you could draw this out, make him so pussydrunk he’d send another decoy job weekly, just so you could return to that magic tongue again and again.

You were right. The sheets felt soft and obscenely expensive. You spread your fingers, the only real motion you were still able to make for now, taking his roaming gaze and the appreciative expression on his screen as a badge of honor. Your senses tingled, and you blinked one, two times, listening into your powers. The walls of his apartment were prepped by him to prevent you from leaving - electricity most likely, something intangible itself - but the ceiling and floors weren’t.

“Got another round in you, baby?”

You look up to him as he wraps your legs around his waist,lining himself up to you, tip ready and loaded. But he doesn’t push in. He waits, and you could cry as he does so.

Fucking hell, the ruthless media overlord half of hell fears to the point they piss themselves is waiting for your consent.

It’s this unexpected, contradictory duality that draws your lips into a smile. Trapping you in his territory, able to kill you with his goddamn pinkie, and yet the only thing he does is make you cum on his mouth and wait for a ‘yes’ to fuck you mindless - how could you not fall for that? Even more, how could you not test your luck with that?

With regained strength you reach for his dick, fingers wrapping firmly around his girthy base. His body follows your gentle guidance, and he lets himself glide into your ready heat with a groan that sends a shiver down your spine - such an earnest sound it makes you want to return the favor tenfold. And you just knew the way you could.

“You don’t need to worry about my stamina,” Voice like honey, you refocus your mind, visualizing the wicked idea that had entered your mind.

A soft hand. Long, flexible fingers, slick and smooth and ready. It formed as you thought it, stroking the cleft of his ass, halting at the tight ring of muscle it found, testing his reaction with a teasing, light press against his opening.

The reaction was priceless. Face glitching, hips jerking violently forward into you as its fingers pass his entrance and slide into him, coming to a halt at that one, very sensitive spot. His breath is ragged and eyes fucking wild, but the way he bends down, gripping your hands to entangle them with yours and pressing as much midnight-blue skin against yours tells you that he doesn’t exactly hate it.

“Worry about your own,” you whisper against the skin of his chest, grinning at the way he shudders at the sultry tone of your voice and the challenging eyes of yours, hilted in your pussy still, taking the ghostly fingers like a good boy.

“Whatever you did to your apartment, you only did it to the walls - the floor is fair game - ah fuck-”

He found some of his senses back, his thrust surprising your nerves with a sudden jolt of electricity - added by him or imagined by you, you can’t tell. He fills you so perfectly, as if molded just for you, big and hard and absolutely sublime, and when he brings his knees up more and bends you at the waist he manages to push in even deeper, pounding almost at your cervix with increasingly feverish, tough thrusts. Again, he wanted to break your concentration, but this time, you were prepared. You let your body do what you trained it to do - it goes hazy, misty, almost translucent in a blue-ish hue, revealing the vision of his buried prick deep inside you, teal glow in navy mist, before you solidify again and find the strength to grin up at him.

“If you cum before I do, I’m out of here.”

There was a wicked glint on that screen of his, and he upped the pace of his snapping hips, pressing you deeper into the mattress.

"Guess you'll have to move in then, baby." His voice sounds almost distorted, his body starts to spark with fizzing bolts of electric energy, and when he grips the headboard with one hand to gain more momentum to fuck even faster and stronger into you, you almost want to take him up on that quip, convinced his apartment was equipped with more than just a boring jetstream hot tub.

Your spirit fingers stroke in a come-hither motion over his prostate, over and over, varying in pressure, intensity and speed, and each swipe makes him moan a little louder, driving his dick a little deeper into you. It's becoming a race towards a finish line none of you wanted to get to in the first place, a fight of wills and bodies, pushing you to your limits judging by the way your oversensitive pussy clenches, begging for release once more. But by Satan himself you did not intend to lose without a good fight, your fingers raking over his lithe back and the sharp edges of his body, lingering, scraping, writing wordless praises into his skin in red streaks.

“In fact, sweetheart,” he says as he pounds you and your pants become out even louder, “I’ll make you cum so hard you don’t want to leave - you’ll scream my name so loud they’ll hear you down in Wrath, know exactly where you’ll be living from now on.”

Vox, too, is close, you can see it, hear it, most importantly feel it. One hand remaining on the headboard, the other scoops you up by your neck, pulling you onto his face in a kiss so breathtaking and fierce you almost pass out. It's sloppy and lustful, it's lips against lips and tongue on tongue, and your ability to use either becomes redundant when you and him both simultaneously cry out, orgasms overlap and intertwine, you cunt clenching tightly around his pulsating length, sending spurt after spurt of hot cum into you as your own release drips onto the soaked sheets below. Your eyes roll back, the fingers buried inside his tightened ass vanish and your muscles relax. With his hand still on your neck, claws digging into your skin, he slowly brings you back onto the mattress to let you fall together with him.

Silence settles for a second. A brief moment of stillness and clarity, sweat cooling your skin, hearts slowing down and breathing returning to normalcy. You feel the aftermath of his touches everywhere. His marks litter you from top to bottom: Your wrists and thighs are covered in red streaks from the tightness of his cable bondage. Your whole skin tingles from the waves of his inherent electric current. But most telling of all was the pooling mess inside of you, already leaking.

You let yourself feel the weight of his body on yours - it's an intoxicating feeling, the heat radiating off his dark blue skin, and the subtle charge beneath, a hidden hum underneath your fingertips, telling of the immense power of an Overlord you just let fuck you senseless. Now would be the time to run - his screen was completely blue, turned off while he recovered his breath - if you wanted, you could disappear, and he wouldn't be able to stop you or track you down. But when you searched the depths of your mind and body for regret and the sense of danger it brought - there was none. Only satiated warmth, an afterglow you could bathe in, like a warm, healing balm, easing your aching bones and bruised skin.

And just in that moment of resolve, Vox’s screen returned to show his face, and he lifted his head slightly to look at you with eyes as bright and vivid as the neon signs lighting up the streets of the entertainment district outside his windows.

One Month Later

“Thanks babes, I was about to lose my shit when Velma and Kelly fucking quit on me. Bunch of pussies, those two, seriously.”

You shoot Velvette a smile over your shoulder, adjusting the last couple of details on six of her girls, ghostly blue hands hovering around them - clipping a collar here, buckling a shoe there. You pity the two foolish girls - the runway show had Velvette occupied tonight, but tomorrow - well, you were sure Vel was about to annihilate their sorry stylist asses for blowing her off last minute… and not just with a snarky post on Sinstagram.

“No problem, Vel, that’s what I’m here for.”

The small woman laughs sarcastically, but not in the usual mean way, but a playful one, a friendly one. That was one of the things you could pride yourself on - That Velvette, social media queen and judge of what’s hot and not, fell in love with you almost as fast and hard as Vox did.

“Darling, we both know that no one really knows what exactly Vox hired you for. What was the job description he pulled out of his flat ass again?” she raises a cocky brow, sipping obnoxiously on her iced coffee to go in her hands, holding out another, identical one for you. “Ah, yes, ‘ASS’.”

You take the drink from her, smiling mischievously back at her. When Vox came up with that title, he didn’t even notice the ambiguity of its abbreviation, and you let him stew over it for almost a day before you told him, silently convinced your fingers left a memorable impression. “It’s ‘Administrative Services Specialist', and what can I say? My resumee was very convincing.”

Velvette snorts into her vanilla foam. “Funny name for your cunt love, but you do you. Now shoo. Didn’t you and flatface have a date tonight?”

You wave her a quick goodbye, sipping up the cold drink in one gulp and throwing it into the trash as you bypass it, hurrying down the hall and plucking the private keycard from your back pocket. You scan it at the elevators, noticing the other employees backing away from you, and you couldn’t hide the grin that flashed your face. No one dared to ride in that elevator with you, a very badly kept secret that it sent you one way straight to Vox’s apartment, and every one of them would rather chew glass than be caught by whatever awaited the opening elevator doors.

And Vel was right - you had a date with Vox, a special one at that.

Barely three weeks ago you actually did move in - call it a whim of insanity, call it fate - and since that, your days were filled with a job in the Vee Tower that you actually liked (no one shed a tear at the ‘Dusty Pages’ closure notice) and the nights were spent naked, sweaty and blissfully explicit under, on top and any other possible way with Vox in his bed. You learned something new about yourself - with the right partner, you were almost insatiable. Another thing you learned was that Vox seemed to feel just the same. Lucky coincidences indeed.

But date night was something special. Giving up the alibi bookshop was easy enough - but you were adamant that you still wanted to do your other jobs.

Not because of the money - Vox provided generously, and wouldn’t take a cent from you (although you managed to convince him to let you buy him at least snacks and small gifts, an exception you abused to the absolute limit). No, you actually liked to sneak through the night, liked the thrill of moving in the shadows and shifting through secured buildings. Liked the excited arousal you felt after a completed heist.

To preserve your secret, you and Vox decided that you wouldn’t reveal your main power to the others at Vee Tower, the only other people who knew were Velvette and Valentino.

The latter wasn’t your biggest fan, and who could blame him, giving that you were living with  and fucking his ex-lover, but he had his own flings and things to take care of, and after a few occasions where you stepped in to help him out at shoots and with his scripts, he at least became cordial towards you.

But date night was where you went out to do a job, secured through Vox for one of his many business partners, and the pool of people the TV demon had on hands that needed or wanted something of value was a bottomless pit from which you could choose the ones you liked the best. And your digital lover not only organized your gigs - he became your eyes and ears, your literal partner in crime.

The doors open, and Vox stands waiting, leaning, in the doorway, arms crossed and a grin on his face.

“You’re late, doll.”

“I know I know, but Vel needed some helping hands - you know I can’t leave her hanging.”

“Oh, I saw.”, he chuckles, his screen switching from his face to images of you from the security cameras on Velvettes floor, close ups of your face, your tits and ass sprinkled in between. ”You know I can never see enough of you, gotta keep those cameras on.”

You scoffed, but did so with a smile before you kissed him and ran off into the closet, undressing quickly while he followed you, letting himself fall down on his bed and watching you intensely as you peeled your clothes from your body and slipped into your signature skintight suit. By the time you were changed his cock was hard, straining his pants which you acknowledged with an appreciative smile.

You both exchange longing looks, but time is ticking. You put the newest addition to your equipment in your ear - a tiny, wireless headset, directly connected to Vox, bend over the bed, your tongue running over the warm line of his lower lip and sigh as he groans with want.

“I know it’s usually payment upfront, baby, but we’re already behind schedule.”

You can’t seem to tear yourself from him with those big hands on your ass squeezing tightly and that goddamn tongue in your mouth, your mind half decided to tell your client to fuck off and fuck the demon in front of you senseless. But he gently pulls away, his eyes burning not only with need, but also with pride. A look you loved to see on him.

“And besides, you are so much more voracious after a job well done.”

He slaps your ass as you pass him, and you shift through the wall, now almost as eager to steal that stupid looking red duck from some dingy, rundown hotel as you were to return to his waiting cock to cash in your salary.

[marksbear2]

Holy moly, mate! Your Steven Grant fanfiction was so DELICIOUS! Also, can I request another Steven Grant x male reader? Bottom Steven for the soul! When you have time of course!

I saw your reblog of that fic I wrote it made me laugh. Your flattering me and I have no problem with doing you a favor.

warnings ⚠️Stressed out reader, dirty talk, smut, fingering, riding, lingerie Steven, kinky and romantic.⚠️

SUB STEVEN GRANT X TOP MALE READER

Laying on the living room couch reading his book waiting for his husband to come home since he has an surprise waiting for him. Steven's head pops up from his book once he hears the front door click open and the sound of getting shut.

Steven takes the right corner on the top of the page and bends it so he can remember his page and closes the book before rushing out of his desk to greet his husband.

"Y/n! Welcome back home." Steven greets with a smile standing close to Y/n. "Hey baby, I missed you." Y/n says before putting down his suit case and wraps his arms around Steven. Steven could feel how tense and see how tired Y/n was. "How was work?" Steven asks softly cupping Y/n's face with his hands. 

"Just stressful and tiring. But it's nothing you should worry about my love." Y/n says trying to reassure him at the end, 

"Love the robe by the way Steven." Y/n says complimenting him with a sweet kiss on the lips. Steven returns the kiss before taking Y/n's arm and leads him to the bedroom.  

Steven drags Y/n to the bed before sitting him down on the edge bed. Steven spreads Y/n's legs open and stands between them already blushing like a mad man. Steven slowly begins to undo the robe.

Steven lets the robe slowly roll off his shoulders showing off the beautiful see through white top of the lingerie. Steven's body squirms feeling Y/n's eyes stare at his chest and nipples. Finally the robe falls onto the floor behind Steven. The panties of the lingerie have the initials of Y/n name, but Y/n wasn't paying attention to it though only looking at Steven's hard cock inside of it. 

"God Steven...What is this all bout? You're making me feel like our wedding night again." Y/n teases with a wink causing Steven to let out a small giggle. 

"I'm doing this because it's my duty as a husband. I'm supposed to take care of you and help you when you feel tired and overworked. I'll do anything you'd like." Steven says with a warm smile. "Really? Anything?" Y/n says with a mischief smirk. Steven nods his head yes. 

"Alright...I want to see your ass Steven. Show me your ass." Y/n commands Steven turns his body around and bends down showing his ass. "So fucking beautiful Steven." Y/n praises running his fingers against the fabric of the lingerie. Y/n hooks the lingerie with his fingers moving the lingerie to the side getting a good look of Steven's hole. 

"You even prepped yourself. Such a good boy for me." Y/n seeing some of the lube leaks. "Cmon spread yourself open, so I can get a better look." Steven does what he's told using his fingers to spread open his hole. "Now would you lay on the bed for me?" Steven quickly moves to the bed laying down on the bed. 

"God Steven. I can't just get over how beautiful you look. I'm such a lucky man to be married to a man like you baby~" Y/n praises using his hands to rub circles on Steven's hips. 

"I-its for you to enjoy." Steven stutters out feeling his whole body get warm and fuzzy. Y/n taps on Steven's inner thigh signaling him to open them. Steven spreads open his legs before looking down at Y/n.

Y/n begins to kiss and bite Steven's thighs marking them as his. He leaves hickeys and other bite marks on them. After has enough parking him he goes up to Steven's chest. Y/n begins to grope Steven's chest through the lingerie. Y/n uses his free hand to pull down the bra then moves his hand around his nipples pulling them and twisting them. 

Steven squirms and moans softly as Y/n teases him.

Y/n watches with curiosity looking down at Steven's aching cock. It twitches rapidly inside the lingerie desperately trying to be let out. "You've been edging yourself huh baby?" Y/n asks moving his left hand down guiding it down touching Steven's chest and stomach until he reaches his crotch. "Yes sir! F-for hours." Steven weakly moans out. 

"Really? For hours baby you waited for me to tell you to cum?" Y/n asks rubbing his hands against Steven's hard dick. Steven ignores the question as he grinds down into Y/n's hand. 

Y/n pulls his hand away with a slight evil laugh before kissing Steven's exposed stomach. Y/n begins to trail up leaving every single spot that's not covered by the lingerie leaving a sweet kiss. Once Y/n is done with that spot he begins to kiss Steven's shoulders and neck. 

After Y/n kisses Steven all over he pulls a back looking down at Steven taking everything in. Y/n pulls down the bottom part of the lingerie letting Steven's cock fly free.

"Cum. Cum for me Steven." Y/n commands. Steven lets out a few whimpers before throwing his head back. "Can y-you please touch me." Steven whimpers. "No baby. I told you to cum now do it." 

Steven lets out a loud moan before cumming hard. Steven's cock shoots long white streaks of cum. "Gah!~ oh fuck oh fuck! aHhhH" 

To Steven it feels never ending. His legs tremble as he rides out his orgasm. Steven felt his whole body become weak from his intense orgasm. Steven's upper body was covered in his own cum. 

Steven's cock was still hard twitching making it more sensitive. To see is he actually sensitive Y/n tugs on Steven's cock watching Steven arch his back and let out a moan. 

As Steven tries to calm down from his own high Y/n begins to strip out of his clothes while Steven is in pure bliss. Once Y/n was fully naked he spit into his hand jerking off his cock making it wet enough for Steven. 

Once Y/n thought it was enough he lined up his cock to Steven's entrance. Y/n slowly moves the tip in and out trying to be as gentle as he can. 

Soon enough Y/n moves deeper into Steven at a slow pace. Y/n leans his body forward so he's close to Steven close enough to kiss him and hear him. 

"How are we doing Steven." Y/n whispers into his ear slowly thrusting inside him. "G-good. You feel so good sir." Steven moans out in pure bliss. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity for Steven. Y/n wasn't the most gentle and sweet man during sex, but when he is it's great and beautiful for the both of them.

"You feel so good for me Steven. You're such a great husband for this Steven." Y/n praises moving his cock even deeper inside Steven. 

Steven wraps his arms around Y/n's shoulders holding him tight. 

Y/n rocks his hips back and forth trying to be as gentle as he can. Y/n moves his face to the crook of Steven's neck kissing it softly. "Fuck. F-fuck." Y/n groans out as Steven feels his cock twitch inside him. 

Y/n begins to pick up his pace, but not too fast or rough. Y/n's thrust was at a perfect speed for him to reach his peak. 

"Steven~ ohh~ fuck Steven. I'm close." Y/n says with a moan moving his hands onto either sides of the bed holding onto the sheets tightly as he fucks deep, but gentle inside Steven. 

"Stevey!~ fuck baby! I'm about to cum!" Y/n warns feeling Steven scratching and holding onto his back. Steven could feel his own cock about to cum as well. With a few more thrust Y/n cums deep inside Steven burying his seed deep inside him. Steven wanted to cum right there and then, but he stopped himself. He wanted to be a good husband for Y/n and cum on his command. 

"Y/n! can I cum? please let me cum!~ I wanna cum so bad." Steven mewls out. "Yes baby. Fuck- you can cum." Y/n tells him. Steven doesn't need to get told twice by cumming hard. 

Y/n helps him out by using his free hand to jerk him off. Steven bolts his hips into Y/n's hand cumming all over his hand and himself. 

"Y-Y/n! I love you! I love you so much." Steven cries out throwing his head back. 

"I love you to Steven."

THE END

[overtrred28]

Stargirl | matildas x original character fic [part nineteen]

Words; 3.2k

Pairings; matildas team x astrid taylor (OC)

Warnings; mentions of death (parental), mentions of car accident, mention of drink driving, mention of panic attack, swearing

A/N; I wrote the idea for the second half of the chapter like 6 months ago and this is the timing I planned before writing the first half, so I' m sorry for the emotional whiplash this chapter is about to cause you. Please read with caution if you think any part of this may trigger you and be safe. Enjoy my loves 🫶

masterlist

Astrid had gotten into bed approximately two hours ago after finishing their team dinner, deciding to call it and all head up to bed. When she entered the room she was exhausted from the game and celebrating their win, but dragged herself into the bathroom for her night routine before finally flopping into bed.

But as soon as her head hit the pillow her eyes were wide open. She was so tired physically, but her mind was up and busy. No matter how hard she tried, after the first thirty minutes she gave in and decided to let it run. Thoughts began racing through her about tonight's game, seeing her family again, how she felt when Kyra hugged her after her goal and eventually she ended up back at New Years Eve.

Astrid might have been quite drunk that night, but there wasn’t a single second she couldn’t recall, especially their kiss. That kiss played in the back of her mind every time she looked at Kyra, no matter how hard she tried to push it back. Often lying awake at night after club training because of how many times they had caught one another staring before looking away as if they hadn’t been. 

She still wondered if Kyra remembered the kiss or not, never daring to ask her in the case of embarrassing herself because Kyra had no clue or didn’t want to remember it. Her feelings towards Kyra were so confusing for her brain; she was her best friend, just like Charli or Courtney. But she couldn’t deny the way her fingers tingle when Kyra laces them with her own, or the blush that begins to spread across her cheeks when Kyra compliments her. 

The thoughts continued to spiral as she laid there in the darkness. She couldn’t go on like this. So with a frustrated groan, she sat up and grabbed her phone, turning on the bedside lamp and opening Kyra’s messages. 

Starry ⭐

are you awake?

Ky ky 🪁

no 

Starry ⭐

fuck off

Ky Ky 🪁

whats up? u ok?

Starry ⭐

…

Astrid kept writing something but deleting it, unsure of what to actually say now that she had gotten Kyra’s attention. 

Kyra sat in her room a couple doors down, a similar positioning to Astrid but nervously watching as the dreaded three dots kept appearing then disappearing. So without hesitation she threw the covers off, slid on her shoes and quietly slipped from her room, making her way down the hall. 

Tap tap tap

Astrid’s head whipped up at the noise, not expecting someone to be at her door at 1:34am, dropping her phone with another half finished text and scurrying to the door. Two seconds of looking through the peephole and her door was swinging open and she had her grip on Kyra’s arm instantly. 

“The hell are you doing?” Astrid sighed as she dragged Kyra in, checking the empty hallway before shutting her door quietly. 

“Can’t sleep either?” Kyra asks as she sits down on the edge of the bed, Astrid now standing in front of her, walking softly back and forth.

“No. Thinking too much.” Astrid mumbles the end, avoiding eye contact with Kyra as she paces. 

“About what?” Kyra’s been thinking about that night just as much, wondering what it means or could mean. Astrid slows her pacing, stopping silently in front of Kyra, looking to the floor as she thinks of how to word it.

“Do you remember?” Asks timidly, looking up at the midfielder, trying to read her expression.

“Remember what?” Kyra tries to hide her smirk as she teases Astrid. 

“Don’t fuck with me okay.” Astrid is clearly stressed out of this, the biting of her nails increasing over the past two months, especially right now. Kyra is quiet for a moment.

“Every day.” It’s quick and quiet, Astrid barely hears the two words, eyes widening as she processes it. Kyra looks up with a small smile.

“Every day?” Astrid looks at Kyra with hope in her eyes, heart racing with anticipation.  

“I’ve thought about it every second since.” Kyra now mumbles, standing up to meet Astrid, stepping close to her. 

“Good.” Astrid smirked as she held Kyra’s hands in hers, both meeting each other's eyes. 

Time almost stopped as they stood there, almost slow motion as their heads moved closer together. Kyra finally took the reins and closed the gap, moving her hands to Astrid’s waist and pulling her closer. Astrid melted into the kiss, hands travelling up to hold Kyra’s face and keep the kiss going. 

It lasted longer than their first, but it was more meaningful as they stood in Astrid’s hotel room, holding onto each other as if they were afraid to let go. They broke apart when they needed air, pushing their foreheads together as they took time to breathe. It wasn’t long before Astrid’s brain began running again. 

“Kyra…” She paused, lifting her head to look at her. “What does this mean?” Worried about losing their friendship as if that could ever happen.

“I don’t know. Whatever we want?” Kyra suggests, causing them both to giggle. 

“Go back to your room idiot.” Astrid gently pushed Kyra’s shoulder with a smile. “I might actually be able to sleep now.” She laughed and Kyra raised a brow. 

“Was it that boring huh?” Kyra snickered, folding her arms over her chest. 

“I mean… it wasn’t the worst kiss I’ve had.” Astrid smirked, stepping closer. “I guess you might just have to try again, see if it’s any better.” She cocked her head to the side, expecting Kyra to come closer again. 

“Sorry,” Kyra stepped back to the door, fake yawning with a stretch. “Too tired.” She blew Astrid a kiss as she shut the door quietly, leaving Astrid shaking her head with smile and a blush on her cheeks. Safe to say she had no trouble falling asleep when her head hit the pillow this time. 

Over the next few days at camp, Astrid and Kyra seemed back to how they were before the new years kiss, practically attached at the hip and annoying their other teammates. But even with all their playing around, their minds were focused on preparing for the Spain game that was now tomorrow.  

The bus pulled up to the CommBank Stadium for their final day of training and it was like Astrid had an instant mood change, switching into focus mode as she remembered the last time up against the Spanish side. 

Astrid was determined to not let what happened last time happen again, especially now they had their full team and she personally had more experience in the Matildas squad. 

All the other girls noticed her mood change that always appeared at their final training session before a match, minimising her laughter and childlike actions and replacing them with quiet, focused actions and determination. Even separating herself from Kyra, Charli or Courtney to pair up with a new partner, today that being Clare Hunt. 

Astrid was still quiet when working with Clare for those few minutes, focusing more on her footwork being precise rather than the topics of conversation floating around them. Clare tried a few times to loosen her up, but nothing could get through to her. Her mind was set on improving any more than she could and preventing what happened last year in Spain. 

It was in the practice matches that her determination and focus was evident to everyone watching, her feet were fast, her passes clean as ever and even slotted 5 goals past Macca from various positions.

“Nice work today, Chicken.” Steph had run up behind Astrid who was the last to leave the pitch, pulling an arm around her shoulder and walking in step with her. “Clearly ready to smash Spain huh?” Steph chuckled, rubbing her hand over Astrid’s arm.

“Thanks. Don’t want a repeat of last year.” Astrid mumbled the end and Steph could sense she was still in her head. 

“Well I think that’s out of the question considering how we looked today, as a team.” Steph emphasised the word team, knowing Astrid sometimes needed a reminder that not everything was up to her. 

“Yeah. Thanks Stephy.” Astrid pulled an arm around the older girl's waist as they continued walking back to the changeroom, letting go once she spotted Kyra, sitting next to her while untying her boots. 

“Sit with me on the bus?” Kyra asked as she bumped Astrid’s shoulder, causing her to look up from her boots. 

“Of course.” Astrid smiled back, Kyra nodded and continued to pack everything up, waiting for Astrid to finish up and walk out together. They were the last on the bus meaning the seats up the front but they didn’t mind. Normally they would be singing out and dancing in their seats, bothering everyone else. But today they sat in silence, sitting next to each other with separate playlists and enjoying one another's company. 

After a few minutes Astrid kept her gaze away, slowly moving her hand, inching it closer to the gap between them and where Kyra’s hand rested, the brunette distractedly looking out the window. Her attention was called back when she felt that familiar tingle as Astrid’s fingers began to slowly intertwine with her own. 

She felt blush rise to her freckled cheeks as their fingers meddled, discreetly readjusting to comfortably lock their hands together, all while keeping her gaze out the window and upon the landscape outside. 

After returning to the hotel, the girls took to their individual rooms and showered before preparing for their pre match ritual pasta night, changing into comfy clothes before heading down to the dining room. 

Astrid was finishing up her dinner when her phone rang. She didn’t recognise the number appearing on the screen, preparing to ignore it but a part of her knew to answer it. She quickly excused herself from the dining room, stepping into an empty hallway, Steph watching her closely as she left. 

“Hello?” She spoke as she answered it. 

“Is this Astrid Taylor?” The woman’s voice sounded serious in tone. 

“Yes it is. Who is this?” Astrid leant partially on the wall, awaiting her answer.  

“My name is Kate Smith from the New South Wales police force.” Kate spoke and Astrid immediately froze, standing up straighter from the wall. “I am calling to inform you that your parents, Mark and Joanna Taylor were involved in an accident.” Astrid's heart dropped to her stomach. 

“What?” Her voice was small and shaky. 

“A drunk driver collided with their car whilst driving tonight.” Kate paused. “They both sustained serious injuries in the collision and the paramedics were unable to save them by the time they reached the scene. I am very sorry for your loss-” 

The voice grew quiet as the phone fell from Astrid’s hand, Kate still talking but all noises faded into the background as Astrid froze. In a matter of seconds her life stopped. 

She was in shock, unable to move as a tear fell silently down her face. She stood in the empty hallway as the voice filtered through her phone but Astrid couldn’t hear a single thing. Eventually Kate hung up after not hearing any response from Astrid and she was left in the silence.

Steph began to grow worried at her younger teammates' disappearance, getting up from the table and walking out to where Astrid had gone minutes ago. Her brows furrowed as she couldn’t hear her speaking to someone on a phone. Her head went around the corner first, spotting Astrid very still, staring blankly down the hallway, tears falling down her face and phone flat on the floor. She immediately rushed over and as the older girl came closer, Astrid fell back into consciousness. 

“Hey, hey. What happened?!” Steph held Astrid’s face in her hands, searching her eyes with a worried look on her own face. Astrid took a shuddered breath in as she stared at Steph, more tears falling rapidly now. 

“M-my parents-” She whispered once she found her voice, pausing to let more air into her lungs.  

“What?” Steph softly urged for her to continue, worry and panic beginning to set in.

“There was an accident.” Her lip quivered as she spoke. “They’re gone.” Astrid finally spat it out, a loud sob escaping her chest as her knees buckled and she fell to the floor, Steph going down with her. Steph didn’t know what to say, only being able to bring Astrid closely into her chest as she finally broke down. Her chest heaved as she sobbed into Steph’s chest, gripping her shirt tightly. 

“Shhhh, shhhhh. I got you, I got you.” Steph smooths Astrid’s hair, holding her tightly as her own heart broke, silent tears falling down her face as she attempts to sooth the young girl. She just let her cry and cry and cry, staying silent as she held Astrid. 

She felt so much in the span of such little time. She was sad, heartbroken, angry and lost. Astrid didn’t know what to do, her parents were gone. She was with them celebrating at her home stadium just three days ago and now they were gone. She couldn’t even think, her mind was blank as she sat there in Steph’s arms.

Her breathing went back to normal and sobs subsided, easing her grip on Steph but staying pressed to her chest and listening to her heartbeat to calm her. 

“I’m so sorry.” Steph whispered, pressing a kiss to Astrid’s head who screwed her eyes shut and fresh tears fell down her face. “Come with me puddin’.” Steph spoke after another moment of silence, wanting to get them both to a quiet place away from the team next door. Astrid nodded once and let go of the older girl’s hoodie, slowly getting up from the floor with Steph’s help, still holding onto her close. 

“Kyra.” Astrid mumbled softly while sniffling, Steph leaning closer to hear her.

“Hey, chicken?” Steph asked softly, brushing the stray hairs from Astrid’s face. 

“Kyra, please.” She whispered again as she wiped her tears. 

“I’ll text her to come up okay?” Steph picked up Astrid’s forgotten phone from the ground and placed it in her pocket with her own, guiding Astrid towards the lifts and pressing the button for their team floor. Steph quickly shot Kyra a text, telling her to get up to Astrid’s room now. 

Steph walked them inside the room and sat against the headboard of Astrid’s bed, guiding the lost girl to lay her head across her lap. Astrid held onto Steph’s legs, the older girl ran her fingers softly through her loose hair as they waited for Kyra. 

A soft knock sounded, Steph slowly moving Astrid off her lap so she could open the door. Astrid laid frozen on the bed, falling back into shock as it began to process in her mind.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kyra panicked when she saw Steph’s tearful eyes, panting slightly from running to the room. The older girl didn’t speak before stepping out of the room, taking herself and Kyra into the hallway.

“Her parents were in an accident. Drunk driver.” The words left Steph’s lips and Kyra’s heart sunk.

“Are they okay? Did they get hurt?” Kyra hurriedly asked but as soon as she took in Steph’s expression she knew. “No.” Her voice was barely above whisper at the realisation. 

“She needs you.” Steph looked her in the eyes, Kyra nodding in understanding. She walked through the door and her heart broke even more seeing Astrid curled up on the bed facing away from her. Kyra silently slipped off her shoes before walking over to the bed, slowly laying down beside Astrid. 

Astrid felt the bed dip and a body behind her, arms wrapping around her and she could tell who it was, letting her body naturally fall back into the other. 

“I got you.” Kyra whispered, bringing her hand up to Astrid hair and running her fingers through it. Those three words brought all the feelings back to Astrid and she allowed herself to break down again, Kyra holding her tightly as she cried in her arms. 

Steph stood in the doorway watching the pair, noting how easily they slipped into the comfort of one another and how quickly Astrid could be calmed by the sounds of Kyra’s soft voice. In all honesty, Steph had never seen the pair so quiet when with one another; despite the current situation. 

They eventually rolled over and Astrid laid her head against Kyra’s chest, falling asleep to the sound of her heartbeat. Steph had left the room when Astrid was finally asleep, going to find Tony and let him know. Safe to say the man was heartbroken for his youngest player, but ready to support her however he could. 

Astrid woke up a bit later, still laying against Kyra’s chest as the soft strokes to her hair brought her back to reality. The room was silent bar their soft breaths. For the first few seconds she didn’t remember what had happened but it all quickly came rushing back.

“I should tell the girls.” Her words were soft and slightly startled Kyra who thought Astrid was still asleep. 

“You don’t have to do anything.” Kyra continued to brush her fingers through her hair, looking down at her best friend who was now staring blankly at the wall next to them.

“I want to. They’re as much my family as…” She trailed off, her eyes glossing over once again, finally looking up at Kyra. Kyra moved her hands to hold Astrid’s face, thumb swiping gently over the tears that began to fall. 

“I’m so sorry Star.” Kyra bit her lip as she met Astrid’s teary eyes, trying not to break in front of her. “What can I do for you?” Astrid shook her head. 

“I don’t even know what to do.” Astrid turned to look out the window, taking a breath in, closing her eyes and letting the breath go. Without another word Astrid got up off her bed, Kyra moving seconds behind her. 

No one expected to see Astrid after hearing news that something personal had happened, but neither Tony or Steph explained what, all thinking she would go home and have time with her family. So when they saw her walk into the common room with a blank expression on her red, tear stained face, it’s safe to say they were all shocked.

Astrid stood in the middle of the room, a large hoodie placed over her body despite the warm weather outside, holding the sleeves over her hands that played nervously with one another. Kyra stood behind her but slightly further back, giving her some space. 

“My parents… we’re in an accident.” She spoke softly into the quiet room, a few small gasps were heard, some girls were ready to ask questions but Astrid spoke again. “They couldn’t save them.” She let out a shaky breath and another tear fell as her heart shattered again by saying the words. 

They didn’t know whether to hug her or whether she needed time and space. But when they saw her eyes searching their faces, they knew. It was Cortnee who stood up first, walking over slowly in case that wasn’t what she wanted. But locking eyes with Cortnee and seeing more tears rising to her eyes again, they knew what she needed. 

One by one, the girls stood and found her in the middle of the room, piling in on top of one another and holding onto her, giving her all the love a family could provide in this time, because that’s what they were; family. 

to be continued...

[topsyturvy-turtely]

turtely's OTP challenge

brand new ficlet!!! now on ao3!

(okay tbh that was a lie... i wrote 90% of this 2-3 years ago... but i never finished it nor published it... so HERE WE GOOOO)

read day 18 here - was too tired to make a post yesterday. prompt: one of them is sick

i wanted to gift this fic to @justanobsessedpan because you requested it about 3 years ago 💀 but ao3 didn't let me (apparently you don't accept gifts?! or do you use a different username?)

summary: Sherlock got COVID and has to isolate himself from his family. So, what happens to a genius locked in? You guessed it right, he promptly saves the entire earth.

M, 2.776 words, Fluff. Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Parentlock, Sherlock is a Good Parent

tag list under the cut!

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful @kabubsmagga @booksoversleep

[jazzii-writes]

flower crowns - osamu dazai

paring: dazai x fem!reader

cw: established relationship, reader wears a dress, dazai calls reader "bella" as in bella-donna, really just pure fluff

a/n: first fic... i hope whoever reads this likes it, please let me know if i made any mistakes! enjoy :) also i wrote this some time ago, for one of my mutual's writing event, but they deactivated their account so i'm posting this anyways. happy birthday to the silly!!

word count: 849

-‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿🌼‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿-

Your breath hitches for a moment, using your nails to make a thin slit in the stem. Carefully, you slide another stem through the slit one, and repeat for a few more. There you have it, fully made of white flowers. Now, you just have to wait for your dearest to come to arrive so that the real fun can start.

For some context, you’ve noticed your lover has been really stressed lately, and wanted to do something nice for him. But you know he’d never tell you, he would just go on about his day until he can think alone at night. Thus, you left early in the morning and left a note on your bedside table, reading;

“Good morning, my love. Want to know where I am? Check my location. Also, remember to wear something light coloured, if you want to match! :)”

Now, you’re in the middle of a field of daisies and dandelions, wearing a light yellow frilly-sleeved dress that falls down to just above your ankles. Much like your surroundings, it has little white flowers peppered all over the skirt of it. The bodice of the dress fits your waist, and has a thin white belt with a white flower on it, to match. It shouldn’t be too long until he finds you, knowing he would get curious quickly.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, as you wonder what has him so stressed. Not a moment goes by, even if you’re not actively thinking, that you can’t wait to see him. And as if the universe had heard you, a car pulls up to the far side of the flower field, on the road of the highway. Well, not really a highway, more like a road that’s not in the city and it’s rarely crowded.

And that car is Dazai’s. He locks the car, then jumps over the flimsy fence. 

“Bellaaaa, how could you leave meeeee~” he whines, running closer to you as you walk towards him.

The moment he gets close enough, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. You can’t muffle your giggles as he kisses all over your face and neck, smiling against your neck when he stops.

“So, what is all this?” he asks, pulling his lips away from your neck, but keeping his arms around your waist.

“Well, you could call it a date,” you trail off when you notice his shirt. A soft smile forms on your lips as you realise his shirt matched the exact colour of your dress. The shirt is plain, with a slightly darker coloured collar and end of the short sleeves. You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the slightly mocking voice of your lover.

“Love, you’re staring.” he teases, getting an eye roll from you.

“Oh, sorry, I was just confused as to how you knew what shirt to wear. Y’know, the one we bought that specifically matched this dress.” 

A soft smile forms on his lips as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. He always knew how to divert the conversation, as he does in this one.

“Lets just say I checked your closet and the dress you’re wearing now was missing so I guessed you were wearing it and wore this one, in hopes to match.” he chuckles, watching your expression change to a slightly shocked one. He really did go out of his way to make sure you two match, just like you asked. Your shock doesn’t last for long, it becomes a giggle.

“Hm? What’s so funny, bella-donna?” he asks, keeping one arm wrapped around your waist as he uses his other hand to fix your hair. He watches as you keep giggling, the way your eyes close and a faint pink hue dusts your cheeks. One word he would use to describe you was most definitely beautiful. For the other, a word anyone else could use to describe him could be smitten, or even mesmerised. 

“Eh, nothing. Enough of that, I have something to show you!” you pull away from his hug, taking his hand as you lead him to where you were making little flower creations. He slightly tilts his head, watching you lean down to grab something, then stand back up. You gesture for him to lean down a bit, he does as you instruct. You carefully place the flowers on his head, then let him stand back up.

“What is it?” he asks, adjusting it on the crown of his head. You smile in response, taking another one and placing it on your own head.

“A flower crown! I made a few earlier, so we can match!” 

If you ask him, your eyes were almost sparkling. In such admiration, no words are exchanged, just a gesture. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips. It catches you by surprise, but who would resist a kiss from him? Your star-eyed boyfriend. And if you look closely, his eyes only glimmer when you’re around. You kiss him back, a smile unable to keep itself off your lips.

-‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿🌼‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿-

taglist: @jomamaofficial , @xansposts

-‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿🌼‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿-

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

© jazzi-writes 2024

[yinyuedijun]

You can answer this when you're off hiatus or... Not since I feel this is a bit uncomfortable to ask for, but may I ask how to write characters who had undergone csa? And how to write how they recover from it. Again I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable you can just delete this if this brings up an uncomfortable feelings I didn't know who else to approach w this question but you as your nightflower fic is wonderfully written and I want to write a character who went through something similair

But I'm afraid of coming off as insensitive and cruel or possibly even worse someone who's writing this as simple shock value or something along those lines as I have (thankfully and luckily) never experienced something like that which makes me afraid that I might write or put something very harmful in my work

I'm sorry if this is too much to ask ^^;;;; I hope this isn't a burden....

Hi anon, thanks for the question! This is a topic that is quite important to me (as I'm sure you've noticed lol), so I'm happy to answer your question. Please forgive me for the length of my answer though because I accidentally wrote a fucking thesis 😰

So, in my opinion, the first and most important thing to remember when you're writing about people who have experienced sexual abuse (underage or otherwise) is that no two survivors are the same. Even if there are many commonalities between the stories of different survivors, ultimately the experiences and recovery process (or lack thereof) is going to be unique for everyone. As such, I can't really give you a "how-to" guide on ways to shape your story, and in fact if I tried to provide you with one then you'd probably accidentally write a caricature of an SA survivor.

However, I do highly recommend that you read stories/anecdotes from real-life survivors in order to get a realistic grasp on the experience and psychological impacts of SA. If you don't have firsthand experience with this type of trauma, I think this is the single most important thing you can do in order to create a story or character that feels authentic and nuanced, rather than coming up with a caricature of a victim/predator or accidentally writing a pointless shock value narrative. An equally helpful thing you can do is read fictional stories relating to SA that were written by actual survivors, or fictional stories that resonated with actual survivors. This will give you insight into how this type of trauma, or survivors carrying this type of trauma, can be depicted in interesting or thoughtful ways - which is not something that intuitively translates from having real life knowledge on the subject.

Now, the second point I'm going to make is somewhat controversial, and you don't need to agree with it by any means. It relates to your fear of writing something "insensitive" or "cruel". While it's amazing that you want to write your story carefully and with intention, you should also keep in mind that "insensitive" and "cruel" are very subjective terms, and different audiences will have different thresholds for them. For instance, there are some people who feel like any meaningful representation of sexual abuse (especially child sexual abuse) is inappropriate to depict. There are many others who feel that your story must exist within certain boundaries to be considered an "acceptable" narrative about sexual abuse. If these people are your intended target audience, then obviously I would try to minimize any kind of discussion of the abuse - and certainly do not write any onscreen depictions of it lol.

However, if your goal is to create a story that feels authentic and nuanced, and you want it to be enjoyed by audiences who are interested in authentic and nuanced narratives, then I can tell you that paying attention to the above group of people is literally the worst thing you can do for yourself. Sexual abuse of any kind is an inherently insensitive and cruel act, and thus detailed narratives about it will always feel insensitive and cruel in some capacity. So, when you consider the execution of your story (the events depicted, the dialogue, the level of detail, etc.), I would advise you not to think about it only with the mindset of "how can I avoid writing something insensitive/shocking/fetishizing" etc. Instead, think about it in terms of the events and thoughts you must depict in order to bring to life the feelings of your characters, and in order to make their struggles and recovery feel real. You may end up with something wildly controversial. You may also still end up with a story that shows nothing onscreen, and does not go into any detailed discussion, and is nevertheless very powerful. Wherever you land though, you'll have landed there because it's the way the story needs to be told - and not because it's how someone else dictated it should be told.

This is what I do, and unsurprisingly a lot of my stories are offensive to people lol. But ironically, many actual SA/DV survivors tell me that my characters are relatable for them, and the stories make them feel seen. While I don't write my fics for SA/DV survivors in general, I do write them for me, and I generally prefer to read SA narratives that feel authentic and nuanced, rather than ones that are gutless or sanitized. That's why I prefer this approach, and I think this is also why my approach tends to produce stories that resonate with other SA survivors. But if you think your target audience will have very different tastes from mine, then this advice may not apply. It really depends on your intent!

All that being said - whatever you may write, or however you approach it, it is already a lot that you are thinking seriously about ways to write your story thoughtfully. This is already more than what most people do when they write about characters who have gone through SA, especially CSA, and I'm sure it'll come through in your work. I know I gave you a shitton of advice just now, but honestly, don't be afraid to just give it a shot and see what comes out of it LOL. You may come up with something that is exactly what you were aiming for. And if it isn't, then you'll at least have a better sense of how to execute it in the future!

I hope this helps!!!! Sending you love 🫶

[xxavengingangelxx]

Graves Defragged 2/?

Part two, y'all! Prepare to have your mind blown. Mine was. That is all :) Also keep in mind that this is how I see Graves based on my psych and criminology degree. You all might see and likely see him differently and that's okay! I'm guessing here. I'm not sure if what I'm speculating about Graves is correct.

Here we go! Not proofread :( I'm really, really tired tonight. Triggers for mentions of non-con and torture.

Item 11: Promiscuous sexual behavior = 1

C’mon, Graves is full of himself and narcissistic. He can have anyone he wants. I am hesitant to even give this a 1 given we have no idea what his sex life is like but I’m familiar with men who have similar personalities and they definitely bed whoever they want. Now, I happen to write Graves as heterosexual because that’s just how my mind created him (a lot of the story in Long Way from Home and Somewhere Only We Know were taken from some old stories I wrote where Warren Kole played a sheriff who was also a serial killer). But I sure as hell love reading him in all types of relationships!! 😉

Look at that man and tell me he and his men don’t get around they can’t get who they want. Sexy af.

Image credit: Call of Duty Wiki

There is a good (but dark) fic written on Ao3 that involves Graves non-conning a female citizen who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Given the picture I have of Graves in my mind (he’s a monster!) I wouldn’t put it past him. But that's my point of view. Remember my version of Graves is dark, hence the warnings on my darker fics!

And KEEP…IN…MIND…his Shadows or most of his Shadows have no issues with war crimes. There’s NO TELLING what his Shadows did to female citizens in the homes they invaded. ☹ They’re nameless and faceless which is part of what makes them so terrifying (they’re also huge, okay? Maybe in more ways than one).

Item 12: Early behavior problems = 1

This is another tough one. We don’t really know anything about his childhood. But based on what we have seen with Graves I wouldn’t doubt he at least had issues managing his anger when he was a child/teen. His lack of morality might suggest that it’s something he’s had his whole life. A lack of fear, common in psychopaths, can also lead to early behavior problems because a psychopath’s limbic system is malfunctioning. It’s not built right. This in turn causes a lot of psychopaths to have no fear. No fear or acknowledgement of danger and certainly no fear of punishments.

This is similar to what we talked about above in the sections about lack of remorse and empathy. It’s NOT that Graves feels fear and ignores it. He cannot feel fear. His brain is not wired for it.

So let’s say you’re captive with Graves. Swinging at him doesn’t work, threatening doesn’t work, and actually hitting him only gets him to hit you back hard enough for you to at least lose partial consiousness or balance. If Graves is not afraid of you, not afraid of the repercusions of taking you, what the hell can you do to at least somewhat control his behavior so he at least shows more stable mood and hurts you less?

Positive reinforcement. Rewards. Psychopaths respond to rewards. Positive reinforcement means adding a desired stimulus. OC figured this out in one of my longer fics (although subconsciously) and gave  in to sleeping with Graves. As OC became more and more compliant, Graves’s behavior became less unpredictable and less violent. If she were to act out again in the future, however, he wouldn't hesitate to at least smack OC maybe even in front of their son.

Positive reinforcement, guys and gals! Give Graves little tidbits of obedience and information. You’ll be playing him and he won’t even know it. But Graves is hella good at figuring out hidden agendas/intentions. So when he does (no, not if, when) find out, he’s gonna hurt you.

Negative reinforcement is the removal of an undesirable stimulus. This works with psychopaths but not in the way positive reinforcement does. So you can stop hitting him and calling him names but it won’t work as good as you providing Graves with positive reinforcement.

Remember Graves responds to money! That is a positive reinforcer.

Item 13: Lack of realistic, long-term goals = 0

Here we have another one that does not apply to Graves. Graves shed his Marine skin with a goal in mind. It might have sounded unrealistic but Graves pulled it off. He’s a billionaire with a PMC staffed with some of the most dangerous men on Earth.

Item 14: Impulsivity = 0

We touched in this earlier when we talked about behavior controls. Graves is meticulous, thorough, detailed, and precise. The big decisions are made with painstaking order/detail. We have talked about (and we can see) that Graves might have issues controlling his actions when he is angry. Piss him off enough and he’ll smack you (Whether you are male or female! Remember he was almost giddy when he was about to torture Valeria, a woman), I can almost guarantee it. At the very least. Piss him off enough enough and he’ll put you on the floor. Piss him off beyond that, you might have to spend a few nights in a hospital.

But Graves is certainly not impulsive when it comes to big decisions. He didn’t get to be a billionaire in charge of his own PMC with contracts left and right by making a habit of being impulsive with important decisions.

Item 15: Irresponsbility = 0

At least in my eyes! You don’t get to be where Graves is, as successful as he is being irresponsible. A business as successful as his is not one built on impulsivity nor irresponsibility.

In relation to this, I’m willing to be a whole paycheck of mine that Graves vets his men better than the FBI.

Image credit: Call of Duty Wiki

These men are so loyal they died for Graves without so much as a second thought while in Las Almas. Remember that I also touched on the fact that their loyalty for Graves goes past humanity and morality. I tried to illustrate this in a fic where Graves’s men have no issue torturing a female POW.

Look at that they did in Las Almas! They murdered citizens to include women and children. And like I mentioned before, there’s no telling what those men did when they invaded those homes before they killed their victims.

Graves didn’t like the limitations of the Marines. So why would he pick men with those moral limitations? Answer is he wouldn’t. He’d pick men who would do whatever he ordered them to do to whomever he wanted it done to. The only way I could see Graves maybe having some men with some morality is for SAR or search and rescue missions. He certainly does not want his ethically untoward men rescuing someone only to victmize said rescue subject on the ride back to the US.

Yikes.

Item 16: Failure to accept responsibility for own actions = 2

Graves is a pro at this, ain’t he? Remember the missle crisis he was indirectly responsible for? Instead of admitting it a whole clusterfuck of consequences cascaded because Graves and Shepherd tried to cover up what they’d done wrong.

Remember Congress? When Graves said he did not put 141 in danger? But you did, Graves (don’t tell him that…he might try to swing at you)! Your men shot first. Now, yes, Alejandro lunged at Graves. But nonlethal force should be met with nonlethal force. Graves’s men are loyal to a fault. When someone so much as steps too close to their commander, they shoot to kill.

And of course Las Almas! Those were hardcore war crimes being committed. And like I’ve mentioned before, I wouldn’t doubt that Graves’s men took a few liberties with individuals they found attractive in the homes they invaded. Not everyone might see it like that but remember the actions in Las Almas were meant to intimidate.

Image credit: Dan Allen Gaming on YouTube

And in some of the fics I’ve written where Graves victimizes OC, Graves blames OC for the torture she suffered, telling her that if she had just given him what he wanted to begin with (homing beacon codes to find 141) she wouldn’t have suffered at all. That’d she’d have no scars on her body and no mental trauma from what was done to her. He ordered his men to carry all that out and he watched it happen but OC, the victim, is responsible. According to Graves.

I think a lot of people really underestimate how dangerous and cruel Graves’s men can be. And yet, we Graves/Shadow Company fans have a certain affection for them 😉 Because to be honest, with all the shady stuff they do, who knows how many times they’ve saved the world. All without getting thanked for it.

Image credit: Shadow Siege Limited on Blizzard Entertainment

Item 17: Many short-term marital relationships = 0

We have no proof Graves has ever been married. It would be somewhat reasonable to conclude that Graves could be involved with quite a few sexual partners. But for marriage…we have absolutely no idea!

Item 18: Juvenile delinquency = 0

And let me tell you why. Graves was in the Marines and some positions in the Marines require a top secret security clearance. Graves’s involvement in military contracts certainly requires a top secret clearance and perhaps maybe a SCIF clearance. You cannot have any significant juvenile delinquency and be trusted with one of these.

Item 19: Revocation of conditional release = 0

None. He hasn’t been arrested (see above for my reasoning for no juvenile arrests). And if he was, I’d be willing to bet some highups in the military, CIA, and NSA would make his charges disappear.

Item 20: Criminal versitality = 2

Oh boy, if there was one item that described Graves it would be this one! This refers to the variety of criminal activity Graves is involved in. Well, we know he’s involved in some shady contracts that involve taking lives. He’s a mercenary after all. Technically, what Graves is doing, killing people for money, is illegal. Essentially invading another country and wiping a town off the map is highly illegal. Shooting to kill at 141/SAS is illegal! So not only is he involved in several types of crime but he is involved in crimes across countries, across the world.

With the money he makes, he hires nameless, faceless men with no moral compass who will then do whatever twisted deeds he tells them to and more. He also buys weapons intended to take lives for money, which is, of course, illegal.

Phew! So what does Graves score on the Psychopath Checklist?

A mere 20! The requirement for psychopathy in the US is 30 and in the UK 25.

According to Canadian psychologist Robert Hare’s research (and he’s done a lot) Graves does not quite rise to the level of psychopath. However, remember that we have very limited information. We essentially have no information about Graves’s childhood or early adulthood other than he enlisted in the Marines. With more information, his score could have gone up, remained the same, but it would not have gone down.

You’re probably like: ummmm…WTF?

And I’m with you! :D I fully expected for him to at least meet the cutoff! These posts I make are discoveries I’m making with you. I had no idea he would score so low!

Is Graves a questionable human being? You bet! Would you jump for joy if he showed interest in you (we all would haha)? But for real, he’s dangerous, he’s callous, and he can be really cruel. Just because he does not rise to the level of psychopathy does not mean he lacks remorse or lacks empathy. Those are still very real things that are part of who Graves is. This applies also to his lack of fear and his responsiveness to positive reinforcement.

Graves’s brain might look a little something like this:

Image credit: Quora (functional MRI or fMRI that takes images as the brain is working and seeing what lights up)

There is a lack of activity in the prefrontal cortex but that activity is not totally absent. Graves might let his emotions get the better of him when he’s one-on-one but overall he’s not impulsive. I'd expect to see a little more activity in his PFC actually. You’ll also see a lack of activity in a part of the brain called the amygdala. That is part of the limbic system, a more primal part of the brain. The amygdala processes negative emotions, which explains while men like Graves do not fear punishment or danger. He will, however, respond to positive reinforcement which increase endorphins, dopamine, and other feel-good neurotransmitters.

You can also see it below! There is high activity in the frontal lobe of the control as well as reasonably high activity in the limbic system. Jim's brain shows a lack of PFC activity as well as a lack of activity deeper in the brain in the limbic system.

Image credit: Rice University, Inside the Brains of Psychopaths

ONE FINAL BUT VERY IMPORTANT NOTE:

Psychopathy DOES NOT equal psychotic. They don’t mean close to the same thing. Psychopathy is mainly dictated by a lack of remorse, empathy, and fear. Psychotic means someone who is out of touch with reality. Think hallucinations, delusions, and so on. Psychotic people do not make good criminals. They’re sloppy and tend to get caught fairly quickly. A psychopath is super in touch with reality! The pick up on details and cues we do not. They do not feel fear and don’t care who they hurt, allowing them to move on with their lives. So if someone says: Graves is psychotic! You can say: ah-ah! Psychopathic :D

Y'all I'm very tired lol I hope you enjoyed. I FUCKIN LOVE talking about this stuff and I can talk about it forever! I can post soooo much more on Graves if y'all are interested :)

[ao3commentoftheday]

(Sorry if this has been asked before) I was curious if you knew the etiquette for posting a collection of oneshots in one fic? (Every chapter is a oneshot rather than all of them being posted seperately.) Is it better to mark it completed even if I'm still adding to it? Or is it better to mark it unfinished since I don't know if it will ever be finished?

You don't know it anon, but you've got two separate potential pitfalls here in the exact same question.

I'll start with the one you're aware of: do you mark a fic as complete when you might or might not continue it.

If you're actively planning to add more chapters, I'd recommend against marking the work complete. People who filter for complete works only will be annoyed with you. People who filter for works in progress won't find your stuff.

If you're unsure whether or not you're going to continue a fic, but you think that you probably won't, then you can mark it as complete, BUT because as I mentioned above, there are people who want to read complete works only, I recommend adding a word/phrase like ABANDONED or even ON HIATUS to the summary so that those folks know not to dive into your fic and get annoyed.

Now, as for the potential pitfall you don't know you might be running into: a lot of people have strong negative feelings about posting a series of one shots as if they're a single fic. Reasons for that differ, but a few of the highlights are:

I love oneshots and I filter for works with 1 chapter so that I can find them. If you put all of them into a multi-chaptered fic, I'll never find them.

I love multichaps and your work looks like a multichap, but when I start reading it, it's just a bunch of oneshots.

I filter for X word count because that's my preferred length of story. By posting those works together, the word counts are all combined, so I either can't find your short stories or think that they're long stories and either way, it's not what I want.

You have so many tags to cover the characters, ships, and scenarios of each story and I don't know which chapter is related to which tags.

You have so many tags and it takes forever for me to scroll past your work in my search results.

You wrote five stories, but I can only kudos once!

I want to reread [this particular story] but I don't know which chapter of your work it is and now it's impossible for me to find it again.

While there are people who either don't mind or prefer seeing a group of oneshots all gathered together in a single fic, it's more common (anecdotally, based on years of reading replies on this blog) to prefer for those oneshots to be gathered together in a series.

Readers can subscribe to a series, just like they can to a fic, but each oneshot will have its own particular set of tags and each oneshot can get its own kudos.

It's definitely more work for the author, and I know some creators feel weird about having that many works on their profile, but the internet is a vast expanse with no physical borders to it, so you can take up all the room you want.

I know this ask was supposed to be about whether to mark your work as complete or not, but I figured I should give you a heads up about that as well. I don't know that I'd use the term "etiquette" for either situation, though. It's not rude to do one thing or the other, it's just potentially annoying to some of your fellow fans. You're still the author, and you should do what makes you comfortable.

[eustasskiddsprosthetic]

it's finally here

Hi! Remember my merman au for ASL and Law? Well, I'm finally working on it, and here's some wips to prove it! I hope you like it. More context of the fic's progress below the cut!

Feel free to read the original brainrot here (x) if you haven't seen this AU of mine before!

In order: Acelaw, Sabolaw and Lulaw!

In its most infant stage now, the fic is 11k words—I'm always impressed with how much I yap in my fics. I wrote notes on how I characterise them before but I want to add more headcannons here.

Ace calls Law boss as a pet name.

Sabo tried to kill Law twice. (talk about tsundere!)

Luffy likes showing Law fish.

If we're still on numbers, then this fic would have 3 larger chapters—an introduction part, a middle part where Ace and Sabo get it on with Law before ending on a lulaw-centric turn.

I have yet to figure out how the third part will end, but I've written the conclusion and I'm excited to share more wips with you!

[peachesofteal]

Twenty questions for fic writers

Thank you @kneelingshadowsalome for the tag! Tagging @391780 @moondirti and @cordeliawhohung or anyone else who wants to do this

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

36

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

446,469

3. What fandoms do you write for?

COD, TLOU, Sandman, but I'm only active in COD right now.

4. Top five by kudos.

Simple Math, Dead Disco, Light On, Black Sun, Heartbeat

5. Do you respond to comments?

I used to but then I got so behind and I have some anxiety so... no. I read everything and cherish it but I struggle to respond to everyone.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The sweet series for TLOU, or fragile ones for Sandman.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Sassy probably has the happiest ending so far.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

on AO3 almost never. On Tumblr I get lunatics in my inbox but it kind of comes with the territory.

9. Do you write smut?

Yes

10. Craziest crossover.

None they are weird to me

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I wouldn't know but I'd be pretty upset tbh

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I gave my permission for Simple Math to be translated but not sure if anything ever came from it

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No

14. All time favorite ship?

Galadriel/Halbrand... Klaroline.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Duality. I don't think it will ever see the light of day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

ummm

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Stage direction. You're writing a story, not a screenplay: except not me. Apparently I care more about physical actions than anything else. Also prose, abuse and misuse of flowery language where it doesn't belong, sentence structure.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

It's fine

19. First fandom you wrote in?

Marvel, actually. But those are long gone.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Probably Dead Disco.

[ceilidho]

Twenty questions for fic writers

thanks @kneelingshadowsalome !!!! @ohbo-ohno @charliemwrites if u guys wanna do this go ahead. or anyone else that feels like it

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

47 LMAO

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

a staggering 583,382

3. What fandoms do you write for?

call of duty basically exclusively now, but i used to also write for star wars, shadow & bone, spiderverse, rings of power, and the last of us (may write more for tlou in the future)

4. Top five by kudos.

dead ringer, take me home country road, red dawn, ghost prompts, and landscape with honey.

5. Do you respond to comments?

god i used to all the time ages ago, but now i don't. i truly just get so overwhelmed and it exhausts me. i will respond to the odd comment now and again though, and i read them all obsessively.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

"the terrible nature of ghosts" for sure

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i guess "landscape with honey" ended on a sweet note. or "birdsongs". i like writing fics that have endings that feel neither happy nor sad; i'd like to think that most of my fics end on a note that make you feel mildly uneasy but overall good.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i have blocked an UNTOLD amount of people, so not anymore. but every now and then i'll get the stray "you're evil and the shit you write is fucked up" comment. people tend not to do that when you moderate comments though.

9. Do you write smut?

well now, that's my bread and butter

10. Craziest crossover.

i'm with salome on this one - i'm a purist. not interested in crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

ages ago when i was younger sure. not since then thankfully.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

maybe?? i know some people have asked and i've given them permission but then they've never come back to tell me whether they did it or not.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes!!! i wrote "dead ringer" with a friend and it's my most popular fic lmao. i love love love co-writing with people, but i rarely do it because your style kind of has to match the other person's in order for it to work.

14. All time favorite ship?

god reylo was really it for me for the longest time. i'm not sure any non x reader thing will ever top that. i do LOVE abby/ellie from the last of us, but there's hardly anything for them.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

any reylo incomplete fic, im so sorry. it's just not gonna happen.

16. What are your writing strengths?

detailed descriptions. introspection and character analysis.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

DIALOGUE. i don't know how the fuck people talk sometimes. also longer plots. and i'm not amazing with visualizing how houses and places look for some reason so i really need to get better at that (i'll be honest, i still don't FULLY know what the town in "country roads" looks like so i try to describe it very vaguely).

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i really only enjoy it when it's used effectively - when the audience is supposed to be aligned with the main character in not understanding what's being said.

19. First fandom you wrote in?

teen wolf!

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

"saltwater" my beloved. or "auribus teneo lupum" from my reylo days.

[nerdieforpedro]

20 Questions of Writers 📑

I was tagged by @frenchiereading @avastrasposts and @maggiemayhemnj (Bless the three of you. You know a dissertation is coming 🤣🤣🤣) 💜

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 81 works on AO3. There are some that are there and not on Tumblr yet. As to why, some of them are other series I haven’t finished or I’m not sure if I should post them here.

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

As of today: 351,908 words (updated for a new chapter of one of my works)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently: Pedro Pascal, Oscar Issac, Garrett Hedlund and might dabble in Call of Duty (maybe)

No longer writing: Marvel

4. Top Five fics by kudos: (some of these were written long ago, when Nerdie was a wee one in fandom)

Sard’ika Sessions (the most in kudos and hits- it tells me ya’ll like Din being a soft dom and using several different tools, maybe at the same time?)

Our Journey Across the Star Ocean (people enjoy the way I write Din maybe?)

The Viper Longs for Foliage (the one fic I have about Oberyn Martell - I don’t feel I write him well but people feel differently I suppose 🤔)

The Best and the Worst Day (AO3 only - Chris Evans fix it was a phase 🫣)

I want him to see me (AO3 only - I had to look up what this was lol Sebastian Stan fic)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I make sure to go through my inbox to reply to anyone who was nice enough to leave me one. ☺️

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Bold of you to assume I finish fics regularly 👀

Scarlet Stains and their Echoes Such angst with a Backstreet Boys joke thrown in. 😆

7. What is the fic you wrote that has the happiest ending?

This is a three way tie (cheating because Nerdie is not above it) between Sard’ika Sessions, The Lake Between Us and Parts of you Mr. Morales. Each fic has a different Pedro character - Din, Ezra (I had to give him something happy 😭) and Frankie.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not that I’ve seen. I totally thought I would and that’s why something stay on AO3 or in the WIP folder but so far I have not. It’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

9. Do you write smut?

I used to. I used to write a lot and enjoyed it. I find now that when I write smut it’s awkward and takes me at least a month to finish a smut scene because despite watching and reading reference materials (porn and other awesome smut fanfic here and on AO3) I don’t have the same mojo when writing it any more. I feel a bit sad about it, but there’s nothing that’s worked. It’s not like I don’t have thots. I just can’t get them in a fic. 😭😭

10. Craziest Crossover?

I haven’t really done many. One m/m fic where Din and Poe crossed blasters (pun fully intended), one sandwich with a female reader, Lucian Flores and Benny Miller, My Tim Rockford series where Dieter is his brother and that’s about it I think 🧐

11. Have you ever have a fic stolen? Not that I know of. So happy I’m in my small weird little box 📦

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic? Nope I would be open to it but I dunno how the process would work.

14. All time favorite ship? The Razor Crest, it has room for passengers. 😆

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Such heart ache 😣 My first series that I started was with Dave York (he was done so dirty dammit!) and it was pretty smut filled. Felt with him and the OFC’s messed up dynamic as well but because of all the smut and how I can’t seem to write smut to save my neck now, it will likely go unfinished. 😭

16. What are your writing strengths?

Honestly, I’m not sure. Maybe just the weird plot ideas I can make and dialogue. That’s about it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing a fic, SMUT, weak comedy (I can’t resist it though), fixating on small details that don’t matter and everything that wasn’t listed as a strength. What is writing really? Can I make the words go together? 😨

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Pretty cool, just make sure you ask a native speaker in that language to look over things before posting. I have found that some of my Spanish is too literal and no native Spanish speaker is actually going to say that. Plus each language always has little nuances you need to take into account.

19. First Fandom you wrote in? Marvel 👀 Look it was a phase dammit! 🫣 Leave me alone. 😭

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Nerdie will cheat again, because this is her post! 😆 I enjoy all my fics. Otherwise, why would I write them? But one stands above the rest. It gives me all the feels, giggles, some funny banter, smut that took a damn month to write and inspired @soft-persephone to tag me in a meme that @boliv-jenta made, Weddings 101 with Dieter.

If there’s one fic that I feel has the majority of my writing (all styles and facets) in it, Weddings 101 would be it. My humor, agnst, attempt at making a villain and sub-plots, slow burn romance with a goat as Dieter’s ride or die. 🤗 That trash panda gave me a lot so I wrote him a wild ass series. 😋

NPT: @tinytinymenace @megamindsecretlair @perotovar @pedroshotwifey @lady-bess

@djarinmuse @alltheglitterandtheroar @inept-the-magnificent @lotusbxtch

@jeewrites @rosecentaur1916 @westside-rot @jessthebaker @trulybetty

@rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @saturn-rings-writes @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @magpiepills

@secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @goodwithcheese