#i'll get to actually writing this fic fully I swear

[anqelbean]

SHIZUN LBH AND DISCIPLE SY??? PLEASE TELL US MORE I'M FERAL

I, too, am feral over these two nonnie, so I shall continue cause you asked so nicely <3

So, the PIDW of this universe follows the immortal lord Luo Binghe, Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak, Demon Emperor on the side (shhhhh, that part's a secret).

Binghe is (seemingly) righteous and noble, but in truth he's always 1 step away from destroying Cang Qiong Mountain. His thread of hope for humanity is about to snap, which is not at all helped by Xin Mo, who has almost taken his mind over completely.

Enter Shen Yuan, transmigrator extraordinaire, disciple of Qing Jing Peak. The person that's supposed to expose Luo Binghe's demonic heritage to the world and kickstart the conquering of the Human Realm by the Demon Emperor, leading to Shen Yuan's eventually becoming a human stick.

Well, he doesn't want to die like that! Who would! So thigh hugging it is!

Thankfully the System in this world isn't as strict as in canon, so he does have one way of saving himself: if Shen Jiu had become Head Disciple, he would not have wanted to expose Luo Binghe.

He tries his darned best to get close to Luo Binghe, although clumsily. He always ends up walking into things when he's around 'cause he was gawking at him. Which, he reasons, is a perfectly normal thing for a disciple to do! To admire his Shizun! Especially since his Shizun was THE protagonist!

Luo Binghe doesn't know what to think of him at first. Clumsy, starry-eyed, always with his nose in the books like he's trying to memorise all the characters, not just its contents, talented enough, but lacking in experience, perfect recipe for disaster. He needs to keep an eye on him if he doesn't want to deal with a dead disciple.

But. It's strange. No one's ever looked at him like that. He knows his disciples admire him, but all of them are so terrified of him they don't dare to get close, lest they end up doing more chores as punishment. But, this Shen Yuan. It's like. Like he's not scared? Like Luo Binghe is...someone worthy of hero-worship. He can't even admit it to himself, but he cannot help but preen under his clumsy disciple's adoring gaze.

Then, a candle accidentally falls in Shen Yuan's dorm, and there's no room for him left. All his roommates went to their friends' rooms, but Shen Yuan didn't have any close friends on the peak! Where should he go???

Luo Binghe…feels he needs to play the good Shizun. It's just an act, of course. He doesn't actually care for the boy. He needs to play the cool, distant immortal, kind enough to take in a stray. He has Shen Yuan move into his side room, BUT only temporarily.

And so it begins.

Luo Binghe finds himself enjoying having someone to cook for again. He himself doesn't need to eat, so he only really does it when trying to woo a demoness into his bed. But with Shen Yuan, it's different. He hasn't cooked for someone just for them to satiate their hunger since his mother. It almost feels…intimate. Seeing Shen Yuan not eat his food so much as inhale it, hearing the sincere praise from the child's mouth… It's all too much.

It doesn't help that the boy is actually quite shameless. Taking off all his layers except one the moment he's home, even his pants! He is just prancing around with all his skin for the world to see! It makes him want to scold him, to take his layers and dress him back up himself just so he doesn't have the image of those long, long legs of Shen Yuan's stuck in his mind. So he does, “Disciple Shen should be more mindful of his appearance,” he says, desperately trying to ignore Shen Yuan's pretty red face as he stammers 'shizun' while Luo Binghe ties his robes, “Anyone could walk in, it's indecent.” And incredibly distracting, he doesn't say.

Few months pass, Luo Binghe realises one thing: this boy is the only person worthy of respect on his entire peak. If something were to happen to him, he would raze the entire mountain to the ground, himself included.

He tries everything just to touch the boy. He fixes his robes, put his hands on his shoulders, picks him up during nighthunts when things get intense, and if he touches him a little more than necessary while correcting his sword forms, well, no one notices.

For once, something has moved his cold, dead heart and Luo Binghe is a hungry soul, bleeding for more, unwilling to let go of this new tiny light he's found, wishing to devour and devour, till no one else can steal it from him, like everything else good in his miserable, lonely life.

Visual representation of this au

[cuntinies]

ellie hates feet. it sucks bc when youre cold, you like to sneak you toes under her to warm you up. sometimes you would sneak them up her shirt.

"babe i swear to fucking god" feeling your cold ass feet sneaking in on her stomach as you both layed out on the couch.

you cant help but laugh bc she gets so mad that she moves a feet or two away from you, huffing like a lil kid.

"you know i dont like feet babe. stop being a lil shit"

"ellie i would literally kiss your feet"

"umm.. dont????"

a/n: i remember sending this in someones asks as an anon lol this was a draft in my notes before i actually started writing. sorry for the lack of fics, once im fully done with school i'll get on it 🙂‍↕️

[cherriegyuu]

red | csc

pairing: seungcheol x f!readergenre: smutword count: 1.6kwarnings: minors do not interact, kissing, a little bit of dirty talking, swearing, oral (male), masturbation (female), unprotected sex (please wrap it up kids), sort ot public sex, car sexa/n: not entirely sure how this one happened but here we are i guess. this was not how the story was supposed to go, i had different plans and maybe i'll write them later. if you filled the form to be tagged in my fics but was not tagged for this one, it means that you are either a minor or i didn't find your age anywhere in your blog.

this is part of my series, seventeen as songs from red (ts)

Seungcheol ➝ Red Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly↳ the sight of seungcheol driving had always been your favorite but when both of you were trying to escape while being chased down by the police, you couldn't help but make things a little more… interesting

“Baby, no, you can’t be serious” Seungcheol complained, his voice a weird mixture of moan and groan as he looked between the road and your hand that was dangerously close to the waist of his jeans. 

He looked at you again, but your eyes were focused on the rear windscreen, a small smile playing on your lips as the cops struggled to follow along. Clearly, the police academy should provide driving lessons, because there was no way those men were actually that bad at driving. 

“It’s going to be fun” you whispered against his skin. 

You pressed your lips over his jawline, right where it connected with his ear, going down his neck, lightly biting into his skin. Your kisses trailed down his neck until his collarbone, where you pressed them over his sweet spot, sucking his skin hard enough to leave a mark. 

You enjoyed knowing that his skin was marked by you.  It was only fair that he too carried marks after leaving a few of them himself all over your body. It had been hard to explain to your sister, ever so naive, how you had gotten those bruises. She saw you as sincere enough, pure enough, to believe that some of it had been due to your clumsy nature. Good thing she never saw the ones right above your panties and the two on your inner thighs. 

“We're going to get caught” 

Seungcheol had always been the first one to throw any sort of caution out the window and he was never one to tell you no. If you wanted something, it was yours. If he didn't have what you wanted, he was sure to get it for you. So when you undid the button of his jeans and slid your hand in, pushing his underwear and pants down just enough to set his semi-hard cock free, Seungcheol didn't complain. 

His words of caution had been a lot more for you than for him. You had been his quiet and shy girl, who sometimes got scared when the cars were too loud. He wasn't certain when that new version of you had come out, but he knew he liked it a lot.

Truth be told, it wasn't really a new version of you, but a you that was only his to see and know about.

“Do you really want Kyle back there to see me choke on your dick?” you pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth “Imagine the view he's going to get… my ass in this tiny skirt in the air, you dick in my mouth, my eyes filled with tears because you're too big to fit into my mouth but I want to take you all way”

God, he loved it when your mouth got a little dirty. 

Seungcheol grabbed your hair, pushing your head down into his cock. You smiled, finally happy that he had given it. You loved that he was willing to pull back but also loved that he didn't hesitate to say yes to you sucking him off.

You licked him, from the base to tip. Your hand pumped him once, twice, three times. A fourth one just for good measure, to be certain that he was almost fully hard before you took him into your mouth.

The moan that left Seungcheol's lips caused a wave of tingles to dance through your body, all the way to your core and you couldn’t help but moan too. 

The sounds he made while you sucked him had always turned you on. So to have him driving — probably your favorite thing about him — and moaning for you, while his hand was tangled in your hair, forcing your head down until his dick touched the back of your throat turned you on in ways that you didn't think were possible.

You had never been one for public sex. Not just public, but anywhere near someone else, or where someone else could hear the faintest sound. But with Seungcheol all of your inhibitions had been left behind and he was all that you could see and feel and want.

He went from the hot driver who helped you escape an illegal race, to the hot driver/boyfriend you were sucking off while being chased down by the cops. 

“Balls too” you managed to pull back long enough to say.

You pushed Seuncheol's jeans a little further down, glad he was willing to help by raising him hips just enough. Once all of him was out for you, you leaned over him again. Your hand was on his cock while your mouth was busy a little more down.

He let out a grunt when you grazed him with your teeth, moaning again when you took him again. His hand was back in your hair, maybe it had never even left, guiding you up and down, at the pace he liked the most. As if you didn't know it already, as if you hadn't memorized it.

“I love your mouth, so much,” he said, holding your head down “You take me so well, baby” 

Tears started to form in the corner of your eyes, spit Dripping out and coating all of him. You snaked your free hand into your soaked panties, needing some sort of pressure too. You moaned when the tip of your middle finger grazed your clit, the tiniest bit of stimulation enough to make your head almost spin.

“Are you touching yourself, baby?” whichever incoherent sound left your mouth was enough of confirmation to Seungcheol “I bet you're pulsing around nothing, begging to be filled.  Ready for me”

You moaned again, rubbing your clit a little more desperately than before. If you were going to get Seungcheol to his release, it was only fair that you got some sort of your own too.

Seungcheol looked at the rearview mirror for a second, when he reached the exit he was looking for, opting to get away from the main road. Those cops weren't aware of the alternative road, so you were almost out of any danger — if such a thing had even existed, for a moment at least.

He pulled you up, his hand on your jaw. He loved to turn you into a mess, with tear-stained cheeks and spit all over you. Your hand never left your pussy when he pulled you to him. He kissed you for a second, doing his best to keep the car moving, still on the road.

“Come ride me” he whispered against your lips.

Your eyes gleamed and you moved, pulling your skirt up and shoving your panties to the side. Seungcheol pushed his seat back, as far as he could go, to make room for you.

The position was a little awkward but it didn't matter as you angled his tip with your entrance, slowly coming down on him.

A long moan left your lips, until he was all the way inside you. You loved the burning sensation he always gave you, almost as if he was too much, like he wasn't going to fit in you. But he always did.

“How are you even tighter?” he moaned, his mind going blank for a second at the overwhelming feeling of taking you in public, of you riding him, of how your pussy sucked him in in desperation, of taking you bare.

Slowly, like torture, to started to move up and down, as much as you could. You moved your hips up, until he almost completely out and then let yourself fall into him. 

“Cheol” you begged, for what it was uncertain.

You wanted, needed, all of him, all over you.

“Take it, baby, it's yours”

Your moves became frantic, a mixture of bouncing on him, while grinding on him, searching for as much friction as you possibly could. 

Seuncheol moved your hand from his neck to your pussy, pressing your own fingers to open yourself up even further, giving you more room for friction.

“Cheol…” you moaned again, your voice louder as you moved over him “You're so so deep like this”

He no longer could take it. He pulled the car to the side of the road. The police had long been left behind and he had gotten to the point of not caring anymore. You were over him, almost on breaking point. He cared about getting you off, about seeing your eyes roll as your orgasm took over. 

“I got you, baby,” he said while kissing you “I've got you”

Seungcheol held your hips and started to pound into you at a relentless pace. He wanted to chase his high while giving you yours.

You moaned into his shoulder when he pressed a hand to your groin at the same time you started to rub your clit again, matching his pace.

“Cum with me, baby”

His words sent your body into a frenzy, your orgasm taking over as your entire body shook. Seungcheol swallowed all of your incoherent moans and words, his high following yours. He only stopped moving when all that was left was the small spams on your legs.

You leaned your head back when Seunchheol tugged at your hair. He loved that expression on you, when you were completely fucked out and pleased. He liked knowing that he had made it happen.

“Hi” he whispered

You laughed a little, your eyes still closed.

“So sex while the cops chase us turns you on, huh?” he said kissing your neck, enjoying the small goosebumps erupting on your skin “Fully noted”

taglist: @wonwooz1, @mirtaspace, @feat-sun, @belladaises, @immabecreepin, @miriamxsworld, @aaniag, @byunparklimchoi, @k-drama-adict, @maiamorrrrrrrrrrrr, @roguesthetic, @sofix-hc7, @moonlightgrleric, @mixling-blog, @haowonbins, @valgracia, @slut4donghyuck

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[mushyposts]

This is the first time i've posted art in like. Two years, maybe more, and its only like. The second/third time I have EVER posted art to tumblr... Hi my names Vee im actually studying visual arts NOT writing HAHHGD This is Zuko, designed specifically for the AU im writing over on ao3 called No thing defines a man like love WHICH HAS A NEW CHAPTER OUT WOWIE WHAT!?>!??!! (I just went to link it and then I realised that the chapter isnt out yet bc I need to post this so I can put it in the chapter oh god I swear I'll update this with the links hjdhjfjhds) ( I just realised i should just put the normnal link for the fic in not. The most recent chapter. Um. here https://archiveofourown.org/works/55992616/chapters/142200913 ) So!! yes! Zuko! Um. I put a lot of thought into this design, but now im actually here I have. No clue what to say! The blue spirit mask is slightly altered, little additions such as a second set of protruding canines on the bottom and water tribe style carvings along the horns + teeth! This is a nod to Zukos mum, I like the idea of her performing and then local performances of shows having different interpretations of the Blue Spirit! hers had the teeth, I also have in the fic a few other details I imagine were more unique to Zukos design. The carving is done by a crew member, Kovak, as a way of tying Zuko in more with the Water Tribe. Theres also some dangly leather bc I think its cute and its my Zuko design. So. The details of his canon timeline design will become fully explained within the next few chapters!! U will get to see the changes develop : D Um. Oh god I had so much more to say about it but now im blanking i get so nervous posting my art... if u have any questions i suppose pls ask... I am very proud of this. Uh. YEAH! Also pls dont repost this work anywhere I'll be very upset if u do....

[heeliopheelia]

"keep kissing me like that and i'll marry you" (heeseung x reader)

genre: fluff word count: 0.5k requested by @venividibitchin ♡

warnings: swearing, kissing

a/n: i'm writing way too many kissing hee fics lately, is it just me or are they getting repetitive 😭 but whatever, it's actually my favorite dribble i've written so far!! since we can't have hee getting too many fluffy drabbles, tonight imma probably drop an angsty one for a change!! hope you like this one guys too <3

You've always thought that sleepy Heeseung was the most adorable being on the entire planet earth.

The way that his eyes blink heavily, his dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks softly. The slow rising of his chest and the occasional snores that slip out whenever he catches himself drifting away despite his will. The way his head lulls to the side and lands on your shoulder when he finally gives up and allows himself to fall asleep.

In conclusion, you love every single fucking thing about sleepy Heeseung.

That's exactly why you can't resist yourself from assaulting your boyfriend's face as he rests peacefully in the crook of your shoulder, warm breath tickling your neck. Slightly pulling away from him, you start with a small smooch to his cheek, following with a trail of pecks down to his chin. As a soft grunt leaves his throat, you take that as a permission to go all in and start peppering his entire face with kisses.

Now, more awake than not, Heeseung lazily pulls you on his lap and leans his head back, wholeheartedly enjoying being on the receiving side of your affection. You don't stop moving your lips across his drowsy features, lips grazing all the way from the tip of his ear to his sharp jawline.

After teasing him by only kissing the corners of his mouth, you finally press your lips to his fully, relishing in the muffled sigh he lets out. You slowly drag the kiss out, moving sloppily as your fingers play with the hair on the back of his head.

Heeseung hums lowly. "Keep kissing me like that and I'll marry you," he blurts out into your lips, hands kneading your thighs absentmindedly.

Feeling your heart halting in your chest, you pull away slowly, not sure whether you should actually take his words into consideration or it's just the tiredness speaking through him right now. You look into his eyes, only to find his unwavering gaze already set on you.

"Wait, are you serious?" You ask, hands moving to brace on his shoulders.

He only chuckles softly, nuzzling your cheek before finding your lips again. "Yeah, dead serious. Would you want that too?"

You feel the hot rush of adoration for your boyfriend running through your veins and before you can even process the situation soberly, you're nodding your head happily. "Yeah. Very much."

A wide smile stretches Heeseung's lips. "Then it's settled. We're getting married tomorrow."

You snort, pinching his ear gently. "Where? In a fucking Elvis chapel?"

"For all I care, it could even be this godawful Chinese restaurant we went to last week. Now that you agreed, I just wanna wife you up already."

You can't help but giggle out of the buzzing giddiness inside of you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you bury your face in his chest. "Alright, yeah. Okay," you stumble out.

"Okay?" He repeats after you, making sure he's not lovesick enough for his delusional mind to just imagine you saying that.

But when your hands squeeze his t-shirt tightly, he knows he wasn't just dreaming it all and you're right here actually accepting his bizarre proposal.

"Okay."

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @venividibitchin

[junekissed]

happy ending

member — husband!junhui x f reader genre — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort word count — 6.6k synopsis — a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time. warnings — female reader, planned pregnancy, there's a big argument but i tried to not make it too toxic (jun and reader have a happy & healthy relationship i promise), swearing, there is a happy ending lots of fluff !! notes — requested by anon — this has been sitting in my drafts for months bc every time i look at it i get shy and wanna change my mind but i'm proud of how this turned out so i'm posting it finally! i know pregnancy fics aren't everyone's favorite but this was honestly very comforting to write so i hope anyone who chooses to read can find comfort in it as well <3 also the last time i proofread this was like april and if i try to proofread it rn i'll get shy again and chicken out so if there's any mistakes pls ignore! i hope you enjoy :)

you sat on the bathroom floor, trying to comprehend the weight of the news you held in your hand. you couldn’t believe it. you could? you couldn’t. 

after many months of trying to start a family with your husband, you had finally succeeded. the slim plastic stick with two tiny pink lines was the last piece of evidence you needed. it had been months of carefully tracked cycles, fertility doctors, and new positions that seemed too weird to actually do anything. but now, everything was finally falling into place.

you don’t know exactly how much time you spend sitting on the floor and staring at the pregnancy test; thinking, planning, and thinking some more. but when you finally stand up and place the positive test on the counter with shaking hands, it still hasn’t fully sunk in yet what’s happening. something you’d wanted for so long, and finally it was all right in front of you.

what do you do now? no— you know exactly what you need to do, and it’s a long list of things. the real question is, where do you begin?

you thought back to all the videos you’d watched over the last few weeks. somehow every social media algorithm knew exactly what you wanted to see, and it had given it to you in abundance; baby showers, gender reveals, those “get ready with me - new mom edition” videos. all getting your hopes up before you could confirm whether or not it had finally happened.

with your hopes high and expectations even higher, you were already beginning to plan how you would break the news to junhui. as your husband and your soon-to-be baby’s father, of course you wanted him to be the very first person to know, so you couldn’t wait too long to tell him. you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

maybe you’d get a little gift box and give the test to him before dinner. but, then again, it was literally a piece of plastic you’d peed on. surely you could give him… something a little nicer than that.

maybe you could buy a baby outfit and wrap it up for him. but you remembered he’d mentioned so many times about how excited he would be to pick out clothes once you got pregnant. you would want him to have the honor of picking out the very first one, going to the store together and looking through the whole section before finally settling on the perfect one.

what else was there you could do? bake a cake? make a crossword puzzle? buy him a t-shirt that says “dad-to-be”? so many ways you could do it, but none of them seemed perfectly right.

from the other room you hear the door opening, and hurriedly you stuff the test into a drawer, not wanting to tell him just yet. you need a plan first; waiting another day or two couldn’t hurt, so you’ll just have to figure out how to tell him later.

you flip off the bathroom light and stride into the hallway, barely able to contain the grin on your face. you’ve always been terrible at keeping secrets, and with news as big and exciting as this you have no idea how you’re going to be able to hide it from him for more than a minute.

but luckily you don’t have to wonder about it for long, because as soon as you see jun you can already tell he’s in a sour mood. 

you know it’s usually best to let him have some time alone when he’s upset, but not for too long because he starts getting frustrated with himself and won’t stop working until he’s exhausted.

but you’re still on a high after everything today, so you decide on being a little bit sweeter to him in the hopes that your happiness will be contagious and that it’ll lift his spirits, despite what was probably a really awful day at work.

you find him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, long fingers pressed against his eyes trying to block out the light.

“hey, junnie,” you call out, sitting down in a chair next to him. “bad day?”

“yeah,” he answers shortly.

“i’m sorry, baby,” you hum, putting your hand on his shoulder, but he flinches and your hand falls away in surprise. he’s never done that before. weird. you try something else. “um, any requests for dinner?”

“not hungry.”

“alright. well, i guess i can cook up some veggies and leave them out, you can heat them up whenever you get hungry.”

he moves his hands away from his face and onto the table, sighing as he leans back in his chair. “can you just— leave me alone for a while? i’m sorry.”

you nod and stand up. “no, it’s fine. i get it. i’ll bring you some tea later then, maybe. text me when you’re feeling better.” you reach out and gently touch his hand before walking away, leaving him alone at the table.

it’s definitely one of his worser days, you note, so you retreat to your bedroom to watch more videos on your phone, trying to bring back your excitement from earlier. hopefully later he’ll be more open and you can sit down and eat something, and maybe by then you’ll have come up with a good way to tell him the news.

an hour passes and you come out of your bedroom to look for jun, having a question from one of your friends about the dinner you’d arranged to have together next week. but he’s no longer in the kitchen, so you peek your head into his office room and find him exactly where you expect him to be, trying to work himself to death.

you clear your throat before you enter, not wanting to startle him again. “hey, junnie, i know you’re in a bad mood, and i’m sorry to interrupt, but—”

“what do you want?” he snaps, never turning around from his desk. just from the way he’s hunched over his computer, he looks like the most stressed you’ve ever seen him, and your chest tightens with worry before your brain registers what he’s just said to you.

“i— excuse me?”

“i said, what do you want?” he repeats, still facing away from you.

you resist the urge to glare at him, knowing he’s probably under a lot of pressure, and you aren’t trying to add to it. “you don’t have to be rude, jun. i just came in here to double check about next weekend, minghao’s texting me.”

he finally lifts his head, slamming his hand down on the desk. “i’m really trying not to snap at you, but— jesus, you make it so fucking hard sometimes.”

you raise your eyebrows in disbelief, your voice lifting in tone. “well, i’m so very sorry to inconvenience you then, but i really don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, jun.”

“and i don’t appreciate you talking to me like i’m a child! when will you get it through your head?”

his comment stings, but you brush it off. “well, maybe if you’d just talk to me like an adult instead of throwing a fit and hiding in your office then i wouldn’t have to treat you like one!” you’re starting to get tired of how he retreats in on himself every time bad shit happens. all you want to do is let him know he doesn’t have to do it alone, and he’s just… exploding at you for no reason, so you don’t try to hide the snarkiness behind your words.

he scoffs angrily and stands up, towering over you at his full height. “oh, grow up! you’re so moody all the time and you expect me to just put up with it! as if i don’t have enough other shit to worry about, i have to worry about what you think of this and that and everything all the damn time!”

you’ve never seen him get so angry like this, and it’s almost scary how completely different this jun is from the jun you know and love. “okay, jun, fine, i’ll just—”

“no, don’t fucking “jun, fine” me. it’s like you’re doing it on purpose at this point, you act like everything is just so perfect and then when it’s not you act like it’s your job to fix everything! you can’t fix everything!”

“i said fine! just forget it, i’ll leave you the hell alone like you always want!”

he pushes past you and crosses the room in two strides, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door, his hand already on the doorknob. “i need to get some air. i’ll be back later.”

you fold your arms over your chest, trying to look unphased but inside your heart is breaking. “you’re really gonna walk out like that? you’re just gonna run away from this? real mature, junhui.”

he spins around, and the look in his eyes is cold. “if i don’t get out of this house right now i’m gonna say something i actually regret.”

and in a flash the door is slammed shut and jun is gone. you can hear his car starting up in the driveway, and seconds later everything is dead silent.

you stand frozen in front of the door, unable to move. you can’t believe it. you can’t. what just happened?

jun has never just… walked out like that.

his words ring in your ears; though your argument wasn’t very long, a lot was said in a very short time and you can’t even begin to think about how to process it as it starts to hit you all at once.

say something he actually regrets? what the hell does that mean? so he’s saying he doesn’t regret everything else, the cursing and the anger and the pointed words that were clearly meant to hurt you?

minute after long minute passes and you realize he’s not coming back anytime soon. finally you drag yourself away from the door, dropping down on the couch in a daze.

there’s never been a time where you and jun haven’t made up immediately after an argument. sure, maybe you take a little bit to cool down in your own space, but neither of you like letting the tension sit unresolved for very long. so what was it this time that made him leave without even a goodbye?

so many reasons, so many excuses, so many words you could’ve said instead. you shouldn’t have reacted like that, you shouldn’t have kept it going, you should’ve just left him alone. would that have made him stay? if you’d backed down sooner and just let him work through it on his own?

despite all the what-ifs and the doubts in your mind, your conscience won’t allow you to let him worry about everything by himself without at least offering your help. you’re a team, husband and wife, and you’ll be damned if you let him forget that. maybe you trying to help actually made things worse in the end, but at least you know you tried… right?

it’s not until you check your phone and realize that jun’s been gone more than half an hour that you finally let yourself cry. you’d been so focused on worrying about where jun was and whether he was okay that you’d barely even thought about what might happen after this.

will he just… come back and pretend nothing happened? will he come back and still be angry at you? it would almost be worse if he was calm and acted like everything was normal. would he even apologize? would you even apologize? of course you would. both of you said things that were fucked up, and you’ll be the first to admit it if it means this whole thing can be over. right now all you want is to have junhui back.

the tears keep falling but you don’t even feel yourself crying, your face rigid as the tears continue to stain your cheeks.

after an hour you force yourself to get up off the couch and move somewhere, anywhere around the house to try and get your mind off things. but you can’t erase his voice from your head, the look in his eyes as he walked out the door and the way his shoulders hunched from anger mixed with exhaustion.

you find yourself back in your bedroom and you fall onto his side of the bed, wishing you would wake up to find that this has all just been a very bad dream.

it’s after 10pm when you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand and you sit up in a panic, scrambling to see if it’s something from jun. your eyes sting from crying so much, and you blink away the remaining tears as you unlock your phone with shaking hands. your heart drops even further when you realize it is, in fact, from jun, but not the news you want to hear.

you let your phone slip out of your grasp, tumbling to the carpet with a thud. when he’d said he’d be back later you had assumed that meant he’d be coming back tonight. clearly you thought wrong.

tomorrow seemed so far away; too much time to spend alone in a house that was supposed to be filled with happy memories, but now all you felt was pain. you felt it in your chest and in your stomach and in your head and everywhere. the whole room was suffocating, heavy weight crushing down on you from every angle.

you slide to the floor and pick up your phone. you don’t text junhui back. you’re not sure anymore if he’d even read your message. 

instead you type in your friend seokmin’s phone number, listening to the line ring as you wipe the back of your hand across your eyes.

as soon as he picks up, he can hear the anguish in your voice and he’s begging you to tell him what’s wrong, but all you can muster up is a soft, “can i stay with you tonight?” because you can’t bear to be in this house another second without junhui. 

and of course he says yes, and of course he’s immediately on his way over to pick you up. and of course he stops at mcdonald’s on the way back to his house to buy you something to eat, because you haven’t eaten and even though you don’t particularly have much of an appetite right now, seokmin would rather die than let you skip a meal, especially on a night like tonight when you could really use something to keep you going.

you throw your overnight bag on the floor of seokmin’s living room with a small sigh. in a haze you’d tossed in whatever items you thought you might need; a toothbrush, pajamas, something to wash your face with. 

he gives you space for a while as he pulls out the folding bed part of the couch and brings out blankets and pillows for you to sleep with. you don’t say it, but you really appreciate his help. he’s been one of your best friends for so long, and you don’t know what you’d do without him. 

you hadn’t thought about it while you were packing, but as you stand in seokmin’s bathroom you think about the cleanser you’d grabbed; your favorite one, the one jun had gotten you for your birthday last year and you’d never switched to another brand since. 

every single thing reminds you of him, and you push down a fresh wave of emotion as you scrub the foam into your skin, trying to wash away all your tears.

when you’re done getting ready for bed you find seokmin in the living room with a pot of tea. he was just trying to help, but unluckily for him, he’d made green tea. it was your favorite… but it also happened to be jun’s favorite.

and this time you can’t hold back your tears, and seokmin is sitting wide eyed and bewildered, wondering why you’re crying over tea, but he doesn’t ask. he just reaches out to let you hug him, and you squeeze him so tightly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t say anything, just lets you hug him as hard as you can and lets your tears stain his t-shirt.

it takes another half hour for you to calm down enough to talk. you’d spent the time watching whatever was on tv, not really paying attention and instead playing everything back in your mind. seokmin had just sat next to you, quietly keeping you company until you were ready.

“jun and i… had a fight,” you say finally, interrupting the commercial playing on the screen.

“i figured,” he says, offering you a comforting smile as he mutes the tv. “do you wanna talk about it?”

“i don’t know. there’s not much to talk about.” you take a shaky breath, remembering it all one more time. “we both said some awful things that we didn’t mean. at least, i know i didn’t mean them. then he just… left, and he texted that he’d come home tomorrow. that’s it.”

you don’t tell him about the pregnancy test. you’ve mentioned once or twice that you and jun had been interested in starting a family, but you’d never gone into detail about it and you weren’t going to now. you still wanted jun to be the first person to know, even though you didn’t know when that might be anymore.

you tell him about other things instead, about your day at work and your plans for the weekend. eventually you finish your tea, and seokmin retreats to his own room and shuts the door with a quiet click, leaving you alone in the quiet of his living room.

it takes you a long time to fall asleep, but soon your exhaustion catches up with you and you let yourself rest, physically and emotionally drained. at least the silence here isn’t as bad as the silence at your house.

across town in his friend seungcheol’s guest bedroom, jun can’t stop tossing and turning. he’s fucked up, he knows he fucked up, big time.

why did he leave? he shouldn’t have left. you had been absolutely right, he was running away from everything and it was stupid and dumb and immature. but in that moment all he could think about was what the next awful thing he might say to you was, and he knew if he had stayed for any longer he wouldn’t have been able to stop what came out of his mouth. he was out of control, and immediately he knew it.

not even the worst day in the world could make you deserving of all the things he said to you. you were the only thing that wasn’t bad in his life; even on shitty days like today, all you did was care about him. and all he did was hurt you.

jun barely sleeps that night, finally forcing himself out of the extra bed at dawn. he’d been too anxious to sleep, too frustrated with himself to do anything other than think about everything he did and wonder if you were okay without him.

he’d already gotten an earful from his friend last night, and he knew he was still in big trouble. the things he said wouldn’t just go away overnight. in fact, they’d probably gotten worse by leaving them to build up overnight, and again he’s kicking himself for ever leaving in the first place.

he packs up his things as quickly as he can, eager to get home and see you again. on his way out the door, he thanks seungcheol for letting him stay the night and he apologizes for bothering him so late.

“i’m not the one you need to apologize to. you better figure out how to fix this, jun.”

with a straight face he nods, bowing his head as he closes the door.

in his car, jun takes the long way home, trying to find an open grocery store. he knows it won’t make up for how he acted, but the very least he can do it buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

he walks through the aisles, basket in hand, trying to think of something else for you. maybe he’ll get the ingredients he needs to make your favorite dinner tonight; he hadn’t eaten last night, though you had offered to cook for him and he’d shot you down.

he feels another pang of guilt at the thought, remembering yet another kind gesture you’d tried to give him that he’d brushed off like it meant nothing. it meant everything to him, and in the middle of the frozen vegetables aisle he swore he wouldn’t ever do it again. 

he’d taken you for granted, and he was so lucky that things hadn’t ended worse than they did. he could’ve said something truly unforgivable, or he could’ve even lost your relationship altogether. but he was still yours, and you were still his, and he would just have to work extra hard to make sure you knew how sincere he was.

he’d been a little worried that you hadn’t texted him back last night, seeing that you’d read his message but never responded. you were probably still hurt, and he didn’t blame you; still, he’d hoped you would say something back.

with grocery bags loaded full of ingredients for dinner and the special things he’d bought for you, the drive back home feels a little more hopeful.

he plans out everything he’ll do in the car. he’ll bring the groceries in and put them away quickly; it’s still fairly early in the morning, so hopefully you won’t be awake yet. he’ll arrange your flowers all nice in a pretty vase, and he’ll come in and wake you up with the best apology of his life and hopefully a really big hug. after the last 24 hours he really could use a hug, and he’s sure you could too. and then he’ll explain how sorry he is and how he didn’t mean any of it and then everything will be better again. yes, everything will be okay.

the first part of his plan goes perfectly. he sneaks into the house and when he’s met with silence he continues putting everything away, quietly so he won’t wake you up in the other room. then, he puts the flowers in a vase and with everything in place, he walks down the hallway to finally face you.

but when he twists the bedroom door handle, the bed is made and the room is empty. you aren’t there.

he frowns, leaving the room and poking his head into the bathroom, then his office. he calls your name loudly, hoping you’re just in a corner of the house and you’ll come out once you hear him. but no reply.

he goes back into the living room and sets the vase down on the coffee table, trying to think. you aren’t usually up this early, but maybe you hadn’t been able to sleep and you’d gone out for a walk, or maybe you’d gone to the store to get more cereal? 

a sinking feeling rises in his chest, and he walks back into the bedroom to confirm something, sliding open the closet door to check. your overnight duffel bag is gone.

he ducks back into the bathroom to check something else. your toothbrush isn’t sitting in the jar like it usually is. he slides open the bathroom drawer to check one more thing, and—

his hand freezes on the knob, staring at something in the drawer that wasn’t there before. he’s not sure it is what he thinks it is, but either way there it is, clear as day in front of him: a little white piece of plastic, sticking out from underneath a tissue. 

gingerly he pulls it out, holding it up to the light to see it better. when he sees the two pink lines he nearly drops it in shock, but he stops himself, setting it gently on the counter instead.

this is something special, something precious, and he knew he had to take care of it. you’d saved it for a reason; you could’ve easily just thrown it away once you knew the results, but you had kept it instead. were you going to give it to him?

he covers his mouth with his hand, still staring at the stick sitting on the edge of the sink. it was just a cheap piece of plastic, but to him it was the most important thing in the entire world.

he deflates when he realizes you’d probably been planning on telling him last night, before he’d blown up at you. if he’d been paying attention to anyone other than himself, he would’ve noticed your mood was happier than usual, your face glowing with contained excitement. he should’ve been paying attention.

there’s a sense of urgency in his stride as he dashes around the house, looking for any other sign of you, but it’s clear you weren’t there. there were so many places you could be, he can’t even begin to think of where to look. your parents, friends, family; hell, you could even have stayed in a hotel, alone and upset. he should’ve been there. none of this should’ve ever happened.

immediately he presses the speed dial for your phone, but of course– no answer. he calls again, and again you don’t pick up. he curses, resisting the urge to slam his phone down on the table in frustration. no, he has to stay calm. that’s what got him into this whole fucking mess in the first place.

he remembers that your parents are out of town on vacation, so you probably wouldn’t have gone there. you wouldn’t have gone to a hotel because you always lecture him about the importance of saving money “just in case”, so you wouldn’t have paid to stay somewhere. your sister is still in college and shares an apartment with three other people, so probably not the best idea either. 

that narrows it down to one of your friends’ houses; seokmin, who lives a couple blocks away, or joshua, who lives on the other side of town.

he figures seokmin is his best bet, so jun takes a deep breath and finds the contact in his phone.

“what do you want?” seokmin’s usually cheery voice has an edge to it today, and jun knows he’s picked right.

“is she there?” he asks anxiously.

“she is,” he confirms, and jun exhales, letting out the breath he had been holding in. “but she’s asleep still. i’ll let her know you called.”

“wait,” jun adds quickly.

the line is silent for a moment, and he’s afraid seokmin’s already hung up, but finally he gets a response. “what is it?”

"can i–are you sure? please," jun pleads. if he could just talk to you, just explain what happened and that he's so fucking sorry—

“hold on,” seokmin says, and the phone goes quiet again.

jun’s heart is in his throat as he waits for a response, and he stops when he finally hears your voice. “hello?”

he breathes a sigh of relief. “sweetheart. i’m so sorry.”

you don’t reply, so he continues.

“i’m glad you’re okay,” he starts, trying to put the right words together. “i shouldn’t have said any of that last night, and i shouldn’t have left. i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry.”

“thanks” is all you say, and he hates how small and sad your voice sounds. it’s his fault you sound like that.

“i found your test,” he bursts out, unable to hide his excitement any longer.

“oh." you pause, swallowing. "so… you know.”

“yes, i do know, baby. i’m so sorry, if i had known before—”

you cut him off, your tone suddenly rising with anger. “‘if you had known?’ so you won’t yell at me if i’m pregnant, but you’re just fine with yelling at me when you think i’m not? is that the only reason why you’re even apologizing to me right now?"

“no— fuck, no, of course not. i shouldn’t yell at you, period. and i’m not going to ever again.” jun pauses for a second, rubbing his hand over his eyes. he’s done nothing so far but make everything worse. “i really messed up, honey, and i’m sorry. i can’t say it enough. but— please, come home. i don’t want to talk over the phone.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away the tears that threaten to fall again. you don’t want to cry about this anymore. “okay,” you say finally. “i’ll be home in a little while.”

“thank you,” jun says, and the way his voice breaks makes your heart sink. you can tell he feels awful about everything, and you do really, really miss him.

“…i love you," you add, changing your mind at the last second.

“i love you, too!” he says immediately. “i love you, too, honey. text me when you’re on your way.”

“i will.”

he says “i love you” twice more before you end the call. you sit in silence for a second, processing everything before you stand up off the couch and head to seokmin’s room to give him back his phone.

"can you take me home now, please?" you tell him softly, and immediately seokmin stands up and hugs you, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"of course. let me know when you're ready."

half an hour later you find yourself in the front seat of seokmin’s car once again, this time sitting nervously in his driveway as he puts your bag in the trunk for you. you're still not sure if you're ready to face jun yet, but you know you have to.

reluctantly you unlock your phone and open your text messages with jun, your eyes landing on the text he'd sent last night that had gone unreplied. with shaky fingers you type out that you're leaving seokmin’s house, and jun replies almost instantly with a long string of heart emojis.

seokmin gets into the car and starts it, and you exhale and set your phone in the cupholder.

"are you okay?" he asks, turning to look at you. "because you can always let me know if you need anything. anytime, day or night."

"i'm alright," you say, taking a deep breath. "i'm fine. but thank you, seok. i really appreciate everything."

he smiles, shifting the car into reverse. "of course. it's no problem at all."

the second he hears the car pull up outside the house, jun jumps up off the couch, smoothing his shirt down anxiously. through the window he watches seokmin hand you your bag and close the trunk, giving you one last hug before he gets back in the car. he doesn't drive away until you're at the front porch, and with a deep breath jun swings open the door, before you can even knock.

you both stand there in silence for a second before he blurts out another apology. "i'm sorry," he rushes to say. "i'm really sorry."

you give him a weak smile. "can i maybe… get in the house, first?" you ask quietly, motioning with your free hand at the doorway.

"yeah, i— yeah, shit, of course," jun says as he practically jumps out of your way, holding the door open for you to walk inside.

you set your bag on the floor by the couch as he closes the door behind you. the sound of the lock clicking seems too loud in the uncomfortable silence that settles over the room.

"can… can i give you a hug? please?" he asks, and you stay quiet but nod. 

he closes the distance between you in one stride and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you so tightly and holding you close to his chest. "i'm so sorry, honey. i didn't mean any of it. i promise."

"i believe you," you finally manage, your voice a little muffled from how he's pressing you against him.

he doesn't say anything more, just holds you and holds you, and it feels so good to be home where you belong. there's a lot that needs to be said, but for right now you don't need any more words. you're just glad to be back together again.

after a while you pull your head away from him so you speak. "i'm sorry."

"why are you apologizing? you didn't do anything wrong, baby. i'm the one that needs to be apologizing."

you shake your head. "no. i said some things last night, too. granted, not as bad as you, but…"

jun breaks out into a grin at your joke, and you feel your mood start to lighten. "…which is true. and i'm sorry."

"jun, you can stop apologizing now. i get it, you're sorry. you don't have to tell me a million times," you say, trying to laugh a little.

now it's his turn to shake his head. "well, i'm going to anyway. because i am sorry." you look away from him, feeling embarrassment start to boil up, but he continues talking. "i'm serious. i'll say it as many times as it takes to make it right."

you turn your head back to him, struggling to keep a straight face. "why did you leave, jun?" you ask softly.

he takes a deep breath, and still trapped in his arms you can feel his chest expand with the breath. 

"it was stupid," he says finally. "i left because i didn't want to stay and risk hurting you more. but i realize i did that anyway, by leaving. i was just… i needed some air. but i shouldn't have stayed away, and i'm not gonna do that again. i won't do it, ever again."

"i just don't want you to leave me," you manage, trying and failing to hide the crack in your voice as you feel your eyes start to well up with tears.

he hugs you tighter and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, gently smoothing your hair with his thumb. "i know, baby, i'm sorry. i'm not going to, i promise."

you don't respond, but you know he's telling the truth. the last 24 hours have been hell for the both of you, and you don't doubt he means every single "i'm sorry" he's said.

"so…" jun starts, and you tilt your head up at him.

"so?" you know what he's going to say next, and despite the excitement you had yesterday you feel yourself dreading this part of the conversation.

"you're pregnant?"

you sigh, looking down and avoiding his eyes. "yeah."

he hums. "but you don't sound excited?" he asks.

"well, i was, last night."

"i'm sorry," he winces. "do you wanna tell me now and i'll pretend this didn't happen and i don't know about it?"

you shake your head. "no, it's fine. the moment's kinda… ruined, already."

he sighs. "yeah, i know. i'm sorry i ruined it."

"i said it's fine, jun."

"no, it's not fine," he says firmly. "it's one hundred percent my fault. this is important to you, and to us, and we should be celebrating right now. last night should never have happened."

"jun, it's in the past. it was messed up, but i forgive you," you say, lifting you head to look at him once more. "it's not a big deal. we're okay now."

"i just want you to be happy about it," he says with a sniff. "we've been trying for so long, and finally…" he trails off, staring at you with watery eyes. 

you smile at him. "i am happy about it, junnie. i'm so happy, you can't even believe."

"did you tell seokmin?" he asks, and his brows furrow when you shake your head no.

"no, i didn't. i wanted you to be the first i told," you say shyly. "i knew you would want to be the first to know."

"i love you so much," he says, still hugging you. he's never going to let you go, never again. "do you know how far along?"

"no, i didn't go to the doctor. probably like two or three weeks, though, if i've been counting it right."

"wow," he sighs, a smile on his face as he stares off into the distance behind you. "i can't wait."

you watch his eyes, practically able to see the thoughts running through his head. 

after a while he loosens his grip around you, moving to swipe at his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "well—anyway," he starts, giving you an awkward chuckle. "i bought stuff for breakfast. if you haven't had any, yet. and i'm making dinner tonight, too."

before you can even respond his eyes widen, like he's just now remembering all the things he had planned, and he lets go of you, bounding into the kitchen. he returns seconds later with a huge glass vase full of flowers, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to hand them to you. "and i got these for you, too. sorry they're not the best, it's all the store had this morning."

"junnie, if this is the best the store had, then i don't think i wanna see their best," you laugh, holding the flowers up and admiring the dozens of bright blooms. "this is gorgeous, but you really didn't need to get me anything."

"but i wanted to," he counters, still running around the room to grab the gift bag sitting by the couch. "consider it an 'i'm very sorry' slash 'congrats you're having a baby' gift."

you set the vase down on the table next to you and take the bag from him, pulling out the tissue paper and crumpling it into a ball.

"i didn't have a whole lot of time to look this morning, but i found these," he says nervously, waiting for your reaction.

from the bag you pull out a miniature plastic hanger holding a set of tiny pajamas covered in little kitties, attached to a matching set of striped orange socks.

"i wanted to be the first person to get you baby clothes," he explains as he fidgets with his hands. 

"i knew you would," you smile at him, setting the empty bag and the clothes on the table along with the bouquet of flowers. "and they're perfect. they're so… you."

you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another hug. "i love all of it. thank you, jun."

he grins, rocking you back and forth in his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheek. "i love you too, baby. i missed you so much. i won't ever do that again."

"i know," you smile. "now… you promised me breakfast, isn't that right? because i'm starving. crying is exhausting."

he laughs. "no crying anymore. and i did promise you that, so tell me: do you want blueberry waffles, or strawberry?"

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[bredstick]

I love Gojo x male reader. There should be more :( I’m tired of all those gn reader fics that turn out to be female reader…

Gojo Satoru x male reader

SO TRUE!! I keep seeing them and it always dissapoints me so so much:(. Anyway, here's a little something for my male reader gojo lovers out there ;)

Gojo realises you're overworked

There's always been some work for you to do in your minimum wage job, but recently it became too much to handle. Paper work, people making fun of you and bringing even more work to your desk... it was all too much, really.

Gojo hasn't been home in a while because of a trip with his students for some kind of "training trip" or whatever he was blabbering about... it made you curious though. Why go so far away for a simple training week?

Opening your eyes, you realize you dozed off at your desk at work, mumbling curses under your breath- today Gojo was coming home-- or well,, came home already. He must be worried about you. Reaching out for your phone next to all the paperwork, you quickly check it in panic. No phonecalls whatsoever. It was almost midnight.

You worry even more- did you upset him?? Or did his travel back to you get delayed?? You were confused. Checking the texts he sent and confirming that today was the day he'd get home, you take your things and quickly hurry home, almost jogging your way down the streets.

Fumbling your keys, you try to open the door, but you realize it's already open- this made you susspicious, since you always double check if your door is locked. Silently stepping inside the house and making a mini weapon with your keys and forming a fist, you look around.. nothing out of the ord-

""HELLOOOO HANDSOME!! YOUR DEAR HUSBAND IS BACCKK- OUGHMHMHDK""

You punch his gut from the surprise, regretting it instantly,, "OH SHIT I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS YOU WHY DID YOU LEAVE IT OPEN YOU DUMB PIECE OF SHIT" complaining loudly with the embarrassment visible on your face, Gojo laughs at you. Laughs straight in your face, as he isn't phased about the punch at all.

"Do I need to remind you that I have infinity on?" he says, smug look on his face. He pranked you.

I swear I'll wipe that little smug of your face someday when I catch you offguard punk!! You say in your mind, while you croutch down with your face beetroot red, ready to die in a hole. "I'll save you the embarrassment and move on. How are you? How was your day? What did you do?" He smiles, finally looking fully at your face. Your eyebags were so so visible, your hair wasn't kept neat like he remembered, and you just looked,, unhappy. He didn't like it one bit.

"You know what... let's not talk about our days right now. You look exhausted dear.. let's get my boy to bed, okay?" he says, his voice softer and more tender. You look up at him, shocked on how well he read your desires you didn't even have time to tell. You stood up and just nodded, not saying a word-there's no words neccesary anyway.

He hugs you- genuinely and tightly, warmth embracing your body. You forgot how it felt really.

You noticed you shed a tear, one singular tear, forgetting how you actually missed his touch, his soft spoken words. Work has surrounded you in a tight grip, making you focus on just that, nothing more.

You smiled in content, and he picked you up by your thighs, slowly walking to the bedroom you two share.

He helped you dress up in your bed clothes, and helped you with your hygene routine- he kept yapping about "not taking care of yourself" and "you need to be good to myself or he'll ground me". You weren't even listening, the only thing in your mind was how you can't wait to have someone by your side again.

Your husband, your one and only, Gojo Satoru.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Thank you for reading this!!! If you want more, please specify what to write about with the certain character(s) :))) if anyone has any recommendations, please tell me! I'm new to this after all.

[oddballwriter]

Last Warning

Summary: Steven wasn't usually a brat when it came to sex. But sometimes he really acted like one. So sometimes you need to put him back in his place. 

Warnings: Sub!Steven with Dom!Reader. Brat taming and brat behavior. Implied pegging (via strap-on) at the end, the reader's gender is never actually said and there is no mention of their pronouns either so you can apply whatever gender you want or as you identify as. Oral and deep throating (reader receiving). Hair pulling. Manhandling. Steven lowkey being slutted out. This is Steven-centric but the rest of the system gets mentioned and the reader and all three are already in a relationship.

Author’s Snip: I was going to write a whole smut that involved pegging but I lost my momentum and could find it. this fic has been sitting in my head and drafts for a while too and I thought it was so great even without the full idea, so I'm posting it now. The end might be a bit wonky so forgive me for that. Listen I worked hard on this lol. I still put my guy pussy in this and I'll be damned if I don't write it.

Note: I didn't fully proof read this. I just kind of brushed through it once so please do your best to ignore any typos or weird grammar.

If I find underage blogs interacting if this blog then I will not hesitate to instantly block with no buts. I do check. So this is your one and ONLY warning

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request!

"What's taking so long?" Steven complained from the bed, almost completely naked say for his pair of briefs that you told him to keep on. He propped himself on his elbows and looked towards the bed post where you stood.

"I'm fixing the strap." you answer chuckling at his impatience. "Why'd you even take it apart in the first place?" Steven asked, still having the same dissatisfied tone. "I wanted to clean the dildo, sweetheart. You can't be mad at me for practicing good sex toy hygiene." you answer again with a slightly more stern tone, "Just be a good boy for me and wait." you promise.

You already knew that the boys had different things that they were into after a while of being together. As it turns out, Steven, although he did enjoy being submissive and doing whatever you wanted, can be quite the brat, if he's antsy enough. Which he was right now. He had made it not so subtle that he wanted you to fuck him, and you were perfectly fine with giving it to him. But you found it a bit funny that he was acting like he was the one in charge with his little complaints. Usually you were able to talk in a stern tone to up him back in his place.

Usually.

"Well it seems like with how long this is taking, I'll have to be railed up again once you're done fixing it all back in place." Steven grumbled under his breath.

Oh?

So he does want to actually play that game now, does he?

"Steven," you say looking directly at him and creating an even sterner voice, "This is your last warning. If you keep being a brat then you're going to get treated like one." you threaten.

Steven heeds the warning and lays back down completely again as he waits. You could still sense that he wanted his desire to be satisfied now but didn't do anything other than wait for you to give it to him since your dynamic was that he needed to ask and have you satisfy him rather than doing it himself or take whatever you gave him to do such. You were glad that Steven wasn't willing to be a big enough brat to start touching himself without asking.

"There!" you announce, finally having gotten the whole strap on fixed on properly. You were about to give Steven exactly what he wanted until you heard him mumble "About time.", most likely talking to himself and only meaning for it to be heard by himself, but you still managed to hear it. You said it was his last warning.

Steven seemed to notice that you heard him and his face immediately became flushed. "I didn't mean it, love. I swear. I'll behave now." he stammered out as you made your way to where he was on the bed. He tried to scoot away from the edge of the bed where you stood yourself, but you manage to catch his ankle and pull him back towards you.

"Off the bed and on your knees." is all you said to him as you brought him to the edge of the bed with you, "I'll remind you exactly why I clean the parts of my straps." you say as you guide Steven into the position you ordered. Steven lets you manhandle him but continues to talk, "No, please. I wasn't that bad that I have to you use my saliva as lub-" Steven begs. "You'll get your lube." you tell him.

"I just want to put that pretty little mouth to better use since all you want to do with it is give me attitude like you weren't begging me to fuck you ten minutes ago." you explain before firmly grabbing his jaw, putting enough pressure on a specific spot to have you be able to manipulate it's movements, "Now open up." you demand as you guide his face towards your groan by pushing the back of his head. Steven does as he's told and timidly opens his mouth and darting out his tongue like he usually does when you have him give oral to your strap.

Steven wraps his lips around the tip of the dildo with the occasional licks. He gives you little glances up, clearly giving you puppy eyes. But it's not working on you tonight. "Quit being shy with it. We both know you can do better than that. I said use your mouth." you instruct as you push his head closer to you, making more of the dildo attached to the strap go farther into Steven's mouth. Steven lets out a whine before, again, doing as told.

You might not be able to actually feel the sensation of Steven, or any of other boys's mouth, around the dildo but you did get something out of watching them doing it. Like the attempt to do it right and keep a pace, or handle the pace you were making them go at via you grabbing their hair and making them move. Steven was cute, in a way. Sure, making him blow your strap would lead to him making that sort of nasty gawking sound and have drool run down his face and maybe drip. But he made these whining noises that just did something to you on top of the fact that he'd keep his hands both to himself, and off himself, and put them on his lap instead.

After a while of letting Steven go at it you push him away saying "Alright, that's enough.". Upon Steven and the dildo separating, a string of drool sticks to the edge of it and Steven's lips which curl into a little smile as he looks back up at you.

You know he thinks that the punishment and lesson learning is over, which really is a poor sense of judgment since he should also know better on that and that it's usually not that easy. So you decide to be a bit evil by not saying anything other than a simple "get on the bed for me." and nothing else.

Steven gets back on his spot laid out on your shared bed, on his back. But you quickly flip him over onto his stomach and grab a handful of his curly hair to make him lean backwards, keeping him from putting anything other than his hands and knees on the bed.

Steven lets out another whiny moan trying to voice his displeasure without getting himself into more trouble with you. "None of that." you say in a stern voice again but this time with a smile on your face. "I told you you were going to be treated like a brat. You thought that I was just going to give you what you originally wanted after just making you use your mouth?" you ask. You shake your head, "No. You're not getting the pillow prince treatment. If you had just behaved then you would have but not anymore." you scold as you let go of his hair to pull off down his briefs. You move away for a bit with a bottle of lube, "You're lucky I'm giving you this." you say as you come back. "If it were Jake then the spit is all you would be getting." you claim as you lather the dildo part of the strap-on. "But I guess you were good enough taking a strap down your throat. So be thankful for that." you say as you draw near to let the fun really begin.

[moonshynecybin]

Can't decide on a specific scene but i'll take anything you have to say about i'll meet judgement by the hounds bc at this point i have re-read it so many times ...

the thing about ill meet judgement by the hounds is that literally no concrete planning went into writing that thing. i was up against a deadline for a grad school assignment i was procrastinating like NOBODY'S BUSINESS had two panic attacks that week (unrelated to school!!) and then flew to bath with my roommate spur of the moment. posted that ch2 late at night zooted on my anxiety meds and and woke up to some LOVELY messages that i read on a bus when i was pulling away from the airport. insane experience. i didnt even want to give it a chapter two right away i was like IM BUSY. and then i wrote it immediately.

BUT to actually talk about the fic. like you asked <3. i actually had this idea that i wanted to follow marc's pov (at that point i had only written vale) and get inside his insane headspace leading up to his arm surgery and then be like. wouldnt it be crazy if vale was there and wanted to reconcile a bit but he was also kind of avoiding SAYING THAT. wouldnt that make marc feel EVEN CRAZIER. marc marquez saw trap simulator. inside you there are two wounds one is valentino rossi and the other is your fucked up arm. anddddd 2022 seemed like the ideal place for a rosquez reunion to me! like. dramaturgically. marc is on the brink. vale has just retired (easy to get a reason for him to have an epiphany regarding marc, made even easier bc marc pov means i never have to explain it in depth !)

and the thing about this fic is that it was supposed to be. A LOT longer. go race by race until his surgery and have them talk a lot more. change a little more gradually. but uh. ive already said my life was insane at that time and i got excited and fucking SENT that badboy. (again. i was lightly tranquilized.) which i think MOSTLY makes it better but the pacing is still little wacky. anyways i do think of the scene i cut where marc talks to alex all the time but i think i also fully deleted it! dont write fic under the influence! i also cut a BIG scene of them at the french GP where vale brings marc a sandwich and makes him eat it. it should also be noted that i was doing SO much journalism research about this period and i found a bunch of WILD quotes from marc that i compiled into a small insane vision board of them to ground my fic in his crazy way of conceptualizing his life. that i apparently also deleted while zen-ed out. so

more stupid behind the scenes under the cut

actual plot summary (my "outline") that i wrote out at the top of my google doc complete with typo:

Thinking about how absolutely distressing it would be for Marc pre surgery or right after if Vale tried to reconcile. Early 2022 before surgery decision and post Vale retirement

Scenes of Vale like. earnestl y talking to him. Marc represses a panic attack every time. race by race?

and here's what i had written for aragon, which is full of lines i just thought of with NO context or structure like this part would NOT take off the ground. you might notice some of them get repurposed later in the fic:

III. French GP, 2022. P6.

Marc’s still not out of the habit of reaching for him, apparently. He looks— God. Marc’s head hurts just looking at him. He could swear he has defenses from this, from how Marc can feel where he is in every room they’re in together. He guesses somewhere in the last few weeks he’s lost them, again. Just another thing he used to be good at.

despite everything, Marc can feel himself relax, with Vale here. The warm heat of him sharing space. He used to feel like this all the time. Vale to his left. His arm, casual and pain free, on his right. Now he's scarred all the way down both sides.

He remembers when he was a kid and he met Vale. How he had winked at Marc and said, I'll look out for you, cradling the toy car that Marc had brought specifically to give to him in his hands. How Marc had turned it over in his brain for years. I'll look out for you.

Marc bargains with himself

Marc does stupid, stupid things when Vale is in his life. He knows this. Going to the ranch is a bad idea. the press alone, if anyone finds out, would feed the paddock journos for years. It would be stupid— risky

Someone needs to tell him not to race. calm him down. Usually, it’s Álex. 

MORE OUTLINE: Vale brings him a sandwich and Marc wants to cry, terrible race. They watch a movie its very Valentino voice lemme take care of you !!! but no talking about their past lmao. maybe arm

Genuinely terrible race. That one stat about alwasy finishing top 5 or crashing. Vale like actually gets him to talk about his arm which gets no where fast (guest alex?) and riding misery begins to reach a tipping point

[sleepingjayy]

"Here we go again" Information Post

(Read the fic here)

《¤》

Calling all creepypasta fans!

Do you like Eyeless Jack? Do you like gore, violence, and thrilling horror? Do you like homey vibes too?

I have just the thing for you! This fic (somehow) has all of this! From tags like hurt/comfort, to found family.

This fic is about Jack, who has hit his one year mark of working for The Tall One. Provided with a cabin, electricity, and protection, he is tasked with fixing up anyone who comes along. It's not in the job description to become familiar with them, but Jack can't help but hear their stories.

With reoccurring characters such as:

Toby Rodgers, Helen (The Bloody Painter) Otis, Tim Wright ("Masky"), Brian Thomas ("Hoodie"), Kate Hayes-Milens ("Kate the Chaser"), Cody (X-Virus) Unknown, and many more iconic characters.

And with lesser known characters (/OCs) like:

Pippa Darling, Leo ("Cross-X") Fincher, Reed Carter, "Something", "Smokey", and more!

《¤》

(For those of you who have read it already, hi welcome to under the cut, the ad is over lol. I wanted to explain some stuff since Act 1 has ended.)

Act 1

Starting with Toby Rodgers, and ending with Kate Hayes-Milens, Act 1 is a calm, homey handful of chapters with intertwined hurt/comfort along with sting of horror.

Although Jack has only been in his cabin for a year now, he definitely has a handle on things.

Along with the end of Act 1, comes the start of a secondary fic called "I want to die with all my scars (and if they don't like the way we are then fuck them)" I know I do a lot of songs as titles, but they do actually have significance, I swear.

This fic, will have a lot of additional material from outside of Jacks cabin. At the end of Act 1 (spoiler for those who haven't made it there yet.) Kate visits and gives Jack a walkie talkie to communicate with the others outside of his small circle. This secondary fic is for things mentioned in the first one but not fully touched on.

For example, it's mentioned by Liu that Ben said the Hornets boys (Tim, Brian, and Toby) were on a road trip. That is one such things that will be talked about in this fic.

Silly little adventures with other characters that may change the dynamic between each other that wouldn't otherwise be I the central plot of the first fic.

This includes OCs! Pippa Darling, a character from a fic on ao3, will be popping up occasionally, and my own character Reed Carter.

You can even submit your own character to be in the two series. Just leave a comment with a link leading to their story, or a social media so I can contact you!

(If they're heavily leaning on or shipped with a popular ("canon" in heavy quotation) character, then I probably won't use it due to not wanting any shipping or big relationships in the story. Unless you happen to have a set of OCs.)

FAQ

1. "Can I make fanart/fanfiction of HWGA?"

Yes! I encourage it! Just tag me so I can see it!

2. "Will [insert character] be in it?"

Most likely. If there's any requests, then I'll probably write for them too!

3. "What does Jack look like?"

Jack in this fic is more of a metaphor than a person. I'll let you choose what that means to you, but this also means that Jack can look like whatever you wish him to. Any "official art" I make for the series won't even have a consistent design for Jack because that's not the point. See Jack however you'd like, because he's supposed to be a source of comfort in anyway you, and his patients, see fit. You'll notice that that's why I've never outright described what he looks like. Be creative. :)

4. "Where/when does this take place?"

That's sort of a spoiler as of now. It's connected to "The Path of Black Leaves" which was made/coined by the slenderblogs here on tumblr, which is a a mode of transportation. But for a simple answer, kind of in New England.

As for when, it's taming place sometime in the mid 2000's

《¤》

That's all for now! This post will update as things get posted and the plot moves along. If you have any questions, OC submissions, or just want to say hi, do so in the comments! :) I love to see it!!!

[that-sarcastic-optimist]

what is henious bitch of a wip and can we get a sneak peak

i know from experience if a wip is causing such suffering it's usually because it's one rollercoaster of a fic 👀

Heinous Bitch Of A Wip (capitalized!) is just so, so, so

exhausting

I really want to finish it, it's just so damn hard. I swear, I take a break from studying and I open my laptop and the file, and I just sit and stare at it like a moron wondering what to write and what's going to happen while fully knowing what's going to happen because I am the one who is writing it.

I've been writing bits and pieces of it for years, and I've passed the 12k limit without actually publishing any of it, which sucks. Like I said, it's a HP au, with KC through the years. However, I am nearing the end of the bits and pieces stage (I think) so I'm going to start doing the middle parts now. I'm not going to be optimistic and set a schedule for myself, because there's no way I'll actually end up following it. *cackling*

HOWEVER, I will share an excerpt of a conversation between Enzo, Bonnie, and Caroline a few weeks ago. It's incomplete, but it's one of my favourite pieces that I loved writing.

“He’s a dick.”

Bonnie looks up, startled, while Enzo doesn't look up at all, furiously scribbling his charms essay instead. “Indeed.”

“What?” Bonnie hisses.

“He’s a dick,” Enzo says monotonously, not taking his eyes off his parchment, his eyes spitting fury at his quill.

“Who is?” Bonnie asks, completely lost.

“Just agree and move on so she’ll leave us alone and you can help me,” Enzo hisses, holding his quill between his teeth and scrambling for a new one.

Bonnie frowns. “She’s our friend.”

“We’ll be down a friend if Flitwick gives me detention because I will kill her, love, so don’t say anything to her, and tell me the wrist movement for brackium emendo, quick.”

“Who’s a dick, Care?” Bonnie asks Caroline loudly, shooting a dirty look at her boyfriend, who groans and collapses onto the common room floor. “Do you need me to hex him?”

“Did you have to?” Enzo whines, yelping when Caroline kicks his shin. Bonnie glares at him and turns back to Caroline.

“What happened? Who’s a dick?”

“Him,” Caroline growls out menacingly.

“Yes, I understand it’s a him,” Bonnie says patiently. “Who is him?”

Enzo sets down his quill and lets out a snarl. “Girlfriend and best friend as you both may be, I’d like to take this moment to remind the both of you that I am very well versed at the Langlock charm and I won't hesitate to use it on the pair of you if you don’t shut up.”

“Klaus Mikaelson,” Caroline growls out, something akin to danger in her eyes.

“Should’ve kept my mouth shut,” Bonnie mutters forlornly.

“Is that right?” Enzo snarls.

“I cannot believe that freaking asshat—” Caroline rants, completely ignoring Enzo as he curses and flips open his charms textbook.

“That pile of dragon dung—”

“Oh, bloody hell,” Enzo says irritably, letting out a curse when he can't locate his quill. “Bonnie, love, quick, give me a new quill.”

“He’s a disgusting, pompous, entitled asshole—”

“Care, what did he do?”

“BONNIE! QUILL!”

“It’s not what he did, it’s what he’s been doing for the past year,” Caroline complains.

“I NEED A BLOODY QUILL!”

“SHUT UP!”

Caroline swears and rummages in her bag and throws him a quill, which Enzo lunges for and dives for his parchment, resuming his furious scribbling.

“You're being such a bad best friend right now! You're supposed to make supportive noises and nod sympathetically while I rant, you ass.”

“Gorgeous, as much as I would absolutely love to listen to you prattle on about blokes, I have a charms essay to redo and a detention I hope to avoid. For fuck’s sake, please, either help me or talk to Bonnie.”

“You know, he asked me out two weeks ago,” Caroline huffs. “For the third time. And he made all these grand declarations of love and everything, that he fancied me and stuff—”

“Well,” Bonnie says unhelpfully, “he does.”

“I told him that if he wanted to date me, he was going to have to be more mature, and show me that he was worth it, and he said yes, and today, I find him hanging Jeremy Gilbert upside down by his socks because he stole Kol’s green scarf and turned it red today at breakfast. Him and his cronies, giggling while Klaus drawls at Jeremy—and when he saw me, he went all pale and stopped the spell and ran after me. Like he actually cares about me. As if, Klaus Mikaelson, screw you, with your I fancy yous and your stupid dimples. You can just give them all to your stupid girlfriend with the pretty red hair and her perfect skin and the annoying voice and the way she calls you baby—honestly, if you can't handle monogamy don’t promise it, you don’t have to lie—”

“How do you spell densuago?”

“Shut up, Enzo. Care, I know it was stupid of him but he’s always been a prick, right? Why are you so surprised—oh.”

“What?” Caroline snaps.

“Yes, what?” Enzo asks, now suddenly interested.

“You're not upset because of Jeremy,” Bonnie says slowly. “You're upset because he’s hanging out with Aurora De Martel. You're jealous.”

“I am not,” Caroline snarls, “jealous.”

“Well,” Enzo smirks. “This just got a whole lot more interesting.”

“Don’t you have a charms essay to finish?” Caroline snaps.

“Don’t you have Mikaelson’s dimples to moon about?” Enzo taunts, quickly casting a shield charm to block Caroline’s hex.

“Stop it,” Bonnie says hastily, casting a pitying look towards Caroline. “Care, I get it. It's not like I can't see the appeal. He’s smart, and he plays Quidditch, and he’s hot—”

“He is not hot.”

“I'm attracted to girls and taken and even I can see it,” Enzo says lazily, cackling when Caroline's second hex is blocked by the shield charm.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of because I don’t like him! He’s a smug jerk—”

“Who fancies you,” Enzo pipes up, unable to stop himself from butting into the conversation he’d wanted to avoid.

Caroline shoots him a filthy look. “I hope Flitwick makes you clean the bed pans in the hospital wing for your detention, fuckwad.”

“I hope Mikaelson snogs every girl within a five kilometre radius, Gorgeous,” Enzo retorts.

Bonnie sighs, rubs her temples.

.

.

.

[philosophika]

Nine People You Want To Get To Know Better

Hi everyone, I'm back from an unplanned semi-hiatus (turns out moving countries can really do a number on you) and am looking forward to interacting again. On that note, thank you very much to my new mutual, @lordfenric-writes for tagging me! If you don't already know Fenric (can I call you Fenric?), go check out their Content Links Post for access to their 2023 NaNoWriMo project and more! Soft tagging: @tate-lin @lucianinsanity @songsofsomnia @moonscribbler @words-after-midnight @blind-the-winds @sarah-sandwich @mydeadpony @inkovert @sender-paulson @athenswrites @wordsacrossemptypages, @winterandwords and anyone else who'd like to participate! If you want me to remove you from the tags, just send me a message and I'll get right on it <3

Current Book I'm Reading: OK, so the first thing you need to know about me is that I'm a fully institutionalized academic, and although I've (THANKFULLY) left that world behind, I. CAN'T FOR. THE. LIFE. OF. ME. stop reading like an academic. I haven't been able to read fiction in over a year. The only genre outside of non-fiction that I still seem to be able to connect with is horror. And not like ghosts in your attic horror. Obscure, weird-as-fuck horror. Between Two Fires by Christopher Buehlman & Monstrilio by Gerardo Sámano Córdova horror (which are both excellent books, by the way). But that wasn't the question, was it? The question was: what am I reading now. Well, (oh god) I've been digging into The Last Man Takes LSD: Foucault and the End of Revolution by Mitchell Dean & Daniel Zamora, which sounds a whole lot more trippy than it actually is. Mainly, I'm interested because the authors point out that Foucault's late philosophy, his so-called 'ethical turn' towards an 'aesthetics of existence', was inspired by a trip he took to California (and the upper reaches of the universe). Since I wrote my MA dissertation on this exact topic (the ethical turn, not the LSD), I thought it might come in handy for future articles...

Last Song I Listened To: Bastille & Hans Zimmer's new cover of Bastille's Pompeii, Pompeii MMXXIII (recommended by a friend). Before that, I was listening to a 'British Folk/Weird Folk/Horror Folk' playlist on Spotify which was pretty interesting... Actually, it reminded me of being a child in the English countryside, stuffing my face with berries by the side of the road and then going to the new-age shop in the village to listen to whale-song CDs, touch magic gemstones, and smell incense sticks. Very hippie.

Currently Watching: The Servant on Apple TV (is the baby real or not!? It's driving me crazy); Foundation on Apple TV (and I swear it's not because Jared Harris is in it or Lee Pace wears chainmail crop-tops. I swear!); and... The News? Does the news count? I watch a lot of 'the news' now. Actually, I can't stop watching... It's been quite sad and terrible lately...

Current Fic I'm Reading: Sorry, I don't read fics! I know it's blasphemy. Believe me, no one is more disgusted with me than I am. But yeah, there you go... Never been my thing, really. Nothing against it.

Next On My Watch List: the upcoming Napoleon movie featuring Joaquin Phoenix; Killers of the Flower Moon; anything A23 produces anytime; Priscilla by Sofia Coppola (which is A23 also so, you know, naturally); and I'll probably re-watch The Green Knight for Christmas (it is a Christmas movie, after all).

Current Obsession: My WIP, The Sorcerer's Apprentice, which you can check out on my writeblr side-blog (@thesorcerersapprentice) has been my main obsession for the past -what?- four years? More or less? I really feel like until I've written this thing, gotten it out of me, I won't be able to write anything else. It just won't leave me alone. I can't think around it; I always end up coming back. It's a story I fundamentally, deep down in my bones, need to write. So it's my obsession: today, tomorrow, and always, right up until the day it's done.

[kandisheek]

Hey friend!! I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to let you know how much I adore your works, and how your presence in fandom has always been a delight. I love your year in fan recs—it’s so wonderful to see so many names I haven’t heard of before, giving folks a chance to read something new and giving less well known authors a chance to shine!!

How about some fun asks now?

If you were suddenly a billionaire and could quit your job and fully engage with fandom for the rest of your life, would you?

What’s a fic you’ve been dying to write but just haven’t gotten to yet?

Why do you love Tony Stark?

Oh my god, you're the absolute sweetest, thank you so much <3 I can only return the sentiment, your fics are a constant source of joy for me <3 And I'm so happy that you found some new authors through my recs! As for your questions:

If I were suddenly a billionaire I'd probably try to take over the world Tony Stark style and (most likely fail to) fix all the agregious wrongs, so I might actually end up not having time for fandom stuff anymore whoops 😂 But in all seriousness, if I could live off fandom writing and arting, I absolutely would. Although I'm fortunate enough to love my real life job as well.

I've been planning to write this fic for ages, in which Tony is with Ty and due to their relationship troubles (which are solely Tony's fault, of course, at least according to Ty) Ty signs them up for a couples retreat. Turns out its a tantric fix-your-sex-life thing, which Ty knew but Tony didn't, so that's great. And guess who Tony runs into on the first day? His ex that got away, Steve Rogers, and his lovely fiance Sharon. Seems like Steve's gay crisis after his stint with Tony led him right back to the straight life, which is just the cherry on top of Tony's shitty sundae. However, it turns out that Steve and Sharon's relationship is far from perfect, just like Tony's. And Tony does remember how happy he used to be with Steve. He highly doubts that Steve thinks the same though. Right? -- I swear I will write this eventually, but the outline alone is like 4000 words long and I just know this fic will be the longest thing I've written yet, and I'm just... yeah. Eventually, I'll get there :)

And I love Tony Stark because to me, he's the human embodiment of mind over matter. Even when all odds are against him, he finds a way to come out on top, despite his multitude of issues. He always pushes for the perfect solution, reinventing himself time and time again. He has flaws, but he wears them like armor. He has trust issues but is fiercely loyal to his inner circle. He's charming and hilarious in the best possible way. And of course, it doesn't hurt that he's hot as hell.

So yeah, Tony is incredible, and I love him. And I love YOU for asking me these questions, thank you so much <3 I consider myself incredibly lucky to count you among my friends <3

[hostilecandle]

🍏 and 🍈 for the writer asks pls!

God I'm so sorry for this ramble 🙏😅

🍏 Is there something you overuse, whether it’s a certain phrase, trope, or piece of punctuation-

Religious Imagery 😅 lmaoooo. I overuse that shit SOOO much. It's in every single fic I've ever written. Doesn't matter fluff or smut or what fandom, I always find a way to work it into the main themes. Literally writing a long af Price x Reader and its title is taken from Psalms 😅😅 I grew up a gay man in a Catholic military family in the Midwest of the United States. Gotta funnel that experience somewhere, so fics it is :D

🍈 Who’s your blorbo and what are some of your favorite headcanons/ideas about them that repeatedly show up in your fics-

Okay this said free pass to ramble about blorbo so I will be taking that opportunity here lol, so my apologies i have many thoughts about this man. I'll use CoD bc it's the fandom I'm in rn so I gotta say John Price (Both the og and reboot though I'm just gonna refer to the reboot Price for this). This man does things to my brain that need to be studied under a microscope I swear 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I have a whole ass character study of him written that's several pages long and I'm still not done.

Headcannons for him (some I've written, some just vibes):

-This man SCREAMS a good ol future midwestern dad type in the making to me. He loves to hunt and fish. He loves the solitude and quiet of both activities, even if he doesn't get anything. Its just peaceful. There is always a beer in the fridge for when the game is on. When he's got a family/partner/retired (whatever you'd prefer), he's a yard guy (yall know the type). I just feel like he cannot sit still when he's home. He's gotta be doing something with himself after years of keeping busy. He's got all the fun toys like a riding mower that is so unnecessary for the yard size but makes him happy. He's always outside in the spring/summer doing something to the yard and god forbid the grass get too tall. He's also not big on socializing with neighbors, a very much a keep to himself and/or his family kinda guy, but he's always SO polite and the ladies in his neighborhood love him.

-From my own homelife experience but it just feels so Price, when he's home he's AWFUL about just leaving his firearm on the counter or coffee table or bed side. Just wherever he remembered to take it off and set down and it's just another thing to forget where he set it like his phone and wallet. Speaking of, he's terrible about losing his phone/keys/wallet/etc. He has a little dish by the entry that he swears he puts it all into but they're never there when he goes to leave and he has to scramble to find them every time

-He's a coffee drinker (black with just a little sugar) and unironically loves to read the paper whenever he gets the chance. He's a small talker and enjoys it, he talks about the weather, gas prices, taxes, and match scores. He gets bored easily when just waiting around and will chat with just about anyone

-He has horrific night terrors and carries a lot of guilt for things he's done in his job. He firmly believes it was all necessary and worth it for the greater good but he wrestles with himself a lot. I personally like to think when Gaz pushes him on it after the interrogation in MW, it actually rattled him a bit. Not because he felt any guilt necessarily for what had just happened (I don't think he felt any in that instance), but because that's one of the first times someone else has pressed him on his moral convictions. "You draw the line where you need it" is not a belief that comes from nowhere or from a man who hasn't wrestled with himself and asked himself the very same questions Gaz was throwing at him. He meant every word he said though and while I feel guilt will catch up to him in the late hours of the night some nights after years of living like this, he fully believes he's justified in everything he does and it's integral to his character and who John Price is as a person

-He's a staunch atheist. Baptized but never believed in a God really anyways but after the things he's seen, he can't find it in himself to even entertain the thought. That being said, in the bottom of his desk is one of those old fashioned crosses that's hollow that holds holy water and one's last will and testament. Obviously being in the military there's already the records of his will but keeps that in his desk regardless because on the off chance he's wrong about there not being a God, it doesn't hurt to be safe.

He's SUCH a Girl Dad™ in the making. He would THRIVE with having a daughter. I'm talking the tea parties, tiaras, letting her put makeup on him, his nails, all of it. He'd support her in any endeavors growing up and would do his damndest to be in the crowd any chance he can get. He'd be her biggest fan. Pictures of her on his desk, in his wallet. Always bragging about his daughter when he gets the chance because he'd be so proud of her

He's a salt of the earth kinda guy. Just has very classic masculinity. Like he's a Man™ and takes pride in it. But its in the, "I'm gonna take care of everything because this is how I care for what's important to me" way. He enjoys being the handyman around the house and who people come to because they respect him. He has a Project Car in the garage that he swears he'll get to and the back is littered with power tools and lumber

(Okay this parts not headcannon because he not old, he's only 37!!) He's actually very tech savvy and likes things to be as up to date as he can get so everything runs smooth.

He feels personally responsible for the wellbeing of the other main 3 of 141 but not in a fatherly way like people think, but these men are his brothers and he hand picked them, he has so much faith in their abilities. (However he unwittingly becomes a mentor figure to Soap very much against his knowledge and will lol)

He had to shave once for an Op and the boys ragged him so hard he refuses to ever shave again. Genuinely fucked him up a bit lol

He has a temper. He's got a good lid on it 99% of the time but its always simmering underneath

Has a wicked sense of humor. Most people don't know or recognize it but he's actually the funniest person in the 141. He's always cracking jokes to break the tension but he says it with such a straight face before breaking into smile to let you know he's joking.

[desceros]

I just gotta say- I usually don't like established relationship fics (Even if it's just like friends) because it always feels like you're... missing something. There's a detachment for me, usually, because I don't get to see how this relationship is formed. Not really. I miss those first glances, the awkward meetings, just all that fluff and yearning as the relationship develops that I guess my heart craves?

But you write in a way that includes that, like the scene in your latest piece where reader is laying on the couch, thinking of all the happy memories and such that have happened in that space. It's a very fine line between telling and showing that you dance immaculately, so it doesn't feel like exposition... because it really isn't? It fills that craving for seeing how the relationship is forming even without the events unfolding directly in front of my eyes. I don't know how else to explain it, just... it's good. It's really, really good. You did the same thing in Euclidean Line, if I remember correctly (God I'm really feeling the urge to reread that one), where there was... sort of a montage, for lack of a better word? When Donnie and reader (don't know what else to call them) were getting closer outside of their meet-ups. Usually I hate time-skips or the author explaining something that I'd really rather just read, but you do it in a way that makes it feel like you're not missing too much, there's still just a bit left to the imagination. I'm sure it's for time's sake/not wanting the fic to drag, something like that? But it's hard to come across an author that does it so well and I appreciate it so much. I swear, I need to start taking notes on the little subtleties of your writing because just. Ugh. I really want to be able to explain myself better it's just good!!

Can't wait to read literally whatever you put out next!! You're one of few authors where it doesn't matter what you're writing, I'll read it anyways. I really wasn't a huge fan of bayverse until I saw you writing the turtles (Among a few others) now I uh. Might have to go back and watch those movies again.

But eat food, drink water, and I hope your wrists are nice to you!! Mine have been sensitive lately so it's more on the forefront of my mind, I haven't seen you mention it so I've just been hoping things have been better on that side for you. I hope you can get some good sleep too, even when you're able to write through it I still kinda worry!! Like I know you're a fully capable adult but. So am I and insomnia is ass, so... yeah I just hope things go well for you!!

it's funny you should say that, as for the longest time, i Hated putting time skips in my writing. abhorred it. would do it as little as possible. because there's so much characterization you can squeeze out of the smallest details, right? like, when they wake up. what do they do? do they drink coffee? tea? how do they take their coffee? do they get dressed before or after breakfast?

but there's an amount of characterization that becomes... excessive. like, sure, the character feels more like an actual person because of this. but does it serve the fic? i balk at the traditional writing advice that "every sentence must progress the plot," because i love basking in seemingly unimportant moments; but i do think there's truth to a modified version of that thought. "every detail must serve the fic."

take symphony, for example. in the first chapter, i go into detail on what viola-chan includes in her apology bags for her neighbors. at first glance, it could seem like a small list of that doesn't really add anything to the character. it certainly doesn't add anything to the plot. and yet, you learn a lot of what she values, what things she sees as important. she has a hobby (two homemade cookies), she doesn't like pain (ibuprofen), she's comfortable financially (the gift card for coffee), she Will practice even though it's annoying to hear (the ear plugs), but she's also kind enough to bend those rules for extenuating circumstances (her phone number, so you can call and ask her to take a break "if you have a baby or something"). it's an efficient way to get across a lot of character development, even though it feels like an unnecessary detail.

learning to balance how much you can skip and how much you should include for your desired amount of characterization is something that comes with experience, and it's something that comes down to taste. as you noted, i like to include things from skips that make them seem Less like a skip, and more like things you didn't see but still know about. this works for established relationships, too. how did they get together? well, maybe that's not so important. but a little hint of it is enough to show that it's real, that it's an event that happened, even if you the reader don't explicitly see it. there are many people who would find my writing excessively detailed, which is fine, as i would find theirs excessively barren. as with most things in art, it's largely subjective.

anyway, too-long answer aside, so glad you're enjoying and thank you so much for your thoughtful message :D

[scyllas-revenge]

when I saw all your wips i was paralysed by indecision because they all look sooo good but I will say Christmus in Connecticut or if someone's already said that the matchmaker fic!

I've already been asked about the matchmaker fic, but the Christmas in Connecticut one is one of my favorites! (even though I haven't actually made progress on it in at least a year, lol)

Since you asked about it, I'll assume you're familiar with the movie, but for anyone who hasn't it's this beautiful film here:

which is THE fake dating story. It's got so many levels of fake dating XD In fact once I realized how much fanfic potential it had I knew I needed to write a LOTR Christmas In Connecticut AU.

It's a Farawyn fic, with such a convoluted premise that I'll just paste in the fic summary here:

After the War of the Ring, Faramir is injured and exhausted in both body and spirit. Knowing that he’s never had a happy home life, Boromir sends his little brother on a much-needed holiday in Rohan for Yuletide. After all, there’s no better place in Middle Earth to experience a peaceful, cozy, nurturing household. Everyone in Gondor has heard about the elegant, refined Lady Eowyn, who famously oversees the Golden Hall’s sumptuous kitchens, tenderly cares for the refugee children of Edoras, and maintains a stable, thriving home in Meduseld alongside her loving husband. The problem? Eowyn might have lied about a few things. And under no circumstance can Faramir find out.

I swear I'm going to write this thing someday! Every Christmas when I watch the movie I get newly motivated XD Anyway here's a slightly longer snippet of the first chapter:

“I step away from my loom and take in the enchanting view from windows of the Golden Hall. There is nothing like the Riddermark for sheer, wild beauty. I have never seen the ocean, but I have heard tell that our rolling hills are much like the rolling blue waves of the sea. “As I look out over our golden sunset, a cool, gentle breeze wafts through my window, and I smell the elaborate Yuletide feast our kitchen is preparing—" “A cool, gentle breeze?” Merry exclaimed. With an enormous shove, he forced the shutters closed against the howling winter wind, his chest heaving with the effort. “They’ll never buy this in Gondor, you know.” “They will if I can help it.” Eowyn adjusted the parchment in her hands, her fingers smudged with ink. She had learned to write several years ago, but she had never exactly been good at it. Certainly her writing was not very tidy, like the snippets of script she’d seen from Gondor. But it didn’t matter—her letters would be rewritten time and again by more elegant hands in Minas Tirith, shared among the highest circles of noblewomen in the White City. Copies of Tales of the Golden Hall were being spread all along the coast of Gondor, last she’d heard. The thought made her heart flutter with pride. “Well, go on then,” Merry urged. “Alright: I make my way to the kitchens, where our servants are hard at work crafting the rich courses I planned. Freshwater fish and eel will serve for our first course, braised to perfection. Flashing in the firelight as though they still live, they rest on a bed of hearty winter vegetables, which are perfectly sliced to resemble the gleaming stones of a riverbed. Next comes a flock of whole-roasted pheasants, stuffed with apples and cloves. As bewitching as these dishes are, however, our third course blows them all away: a boar so large I half-fear the table shall buckle under its weight. Its skin crackles pleasantly as—" “A boar?” Merry interrupted again, snorting. “A whole flock of pheasants?” Eowyn shrugged. “These letters are meant to show off the Riddermark’s strength. Its resilience. Gondor need not know we’ve been half-starving since the war ended. They cannot, if we wish to increase trade with them.” “If you were half-starving last winter, you must be fully starving now.” “We’ll get by.” She studied her writing nervously. “Does it ring false? I can rewrite it.” “At the pace you write?” Merry laughed. “We’d be sitting here until spring comes.” He yelped and dodged the empty inkwell Eowyn threw at him.